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ynscrazylife · 3 years

Note

i’m a simple gal...... i like seeing natasha being overprotective and a little homicidal SO could i please request some cute mentor!almost itherlynat x reader? maybe reader gets badly hurt during training or someone on the team hurts her feelings? mamabear stabs? 🥺

More Than A Mentor | n.r fluff fic

Summary: After an accident, Y/N realizes her and Natasha’s relationship goes beyond mentor and mentee.

Authors Note: Thank you for requesting! I’ve missed writing Marvel/Natasha.

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Request to be on a Taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/marvelocks

Natasha was not an easy mentor, and Y/N learned that quickly. She was understanding and patient, yes, but she also knew when to push Y/N and went to be a little stricter.

The thing was, Y/N was never completely sure what side she’d get of her mentor at what time - though she found herself not having to worry about it after . . . The Accident.

That disastrous day would go down in the team’s history, yet no one liked to talk about it. It was a day Y/N would never forget: it changed . . . everything.

It was one of the rare days that Y/N wasn’t training with Natasha. She had a meeting with Fury so Steve filled in for her. Y/N was not accustomed to training with a super soldier, and had to quickly adjust (it didn’t make it any easier that he had his shield, too).

She was doing well - at least, she wanted to think that she was - and so far had deflected almost every punch from Steve, managing to get one or two punches against him herself.

Nonetheless, the air was knocked out of her when Steve slammed her against the mat. She grunted, angry only fueling the pain when she saw that stupid smirk on his face, and used that to her advantage; he wouldn’t expect her to recover so quickly (and in truth, neither did she) but she did it anyway, throwing all her weight against the Captain. She secured he legs around his waist like Natasha taught her and, using the strength in her legs and pushing his broad shoulders, just about managed to get herself out from being pinned on the mat. Now, though, they were both sorta sitting on the mat, so Y/N kneed him in the chest, pushing him down.

“You’re good,” he whispered, just slightly out of breath, before he - seemingly without using any strength at all - threw her to the side where she rolled.

Y/N cursed under her breath, getting her feet. It was impossible to win against a super-soldier! Think, Y/N, think, what did Natasha teach you? Cmon!

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve grabbing his shield, and got in a stance to either catch it or evade it - she hadn't decided yet - when yells distracted her. In her hyped up, adrenaline-pumped state, the first thing that came to Y/N’s mind was that someone was hurt. She was about to call of the training when a large, solid force smacked into her stomach, sending her flying into the air where she hit the wall, losing consciousness.

Steve's eyes widened, not thinking it’d actually hit her, and jumped into action. “Who the hell screamed?” The blonde yelled as he ran to his fallen teammate. He carefully turned her on her back and looked her over for injuries, seeing bruises and bleeding starting to form on her stomach and ankle and her head bleeding.

Bucky and Sam practically crashed inside the room, trying to beat each other.

“He threatened me!” Sam exclaimed.

“He tried to steal my metal arm!” Bucky defended.

Both men came to a screeching halt when they digested the scene, though. Steve rolled his eyes at his idiotic friends and tried to put pressure on Y/N’s head wound. “Sam, get Bruce, please. Tell him to prepare med - and Bucky, get Natasha. She’ll want to be here,” he ordered, and the men nodded, guilty.

Steve carefully picked Y/N up in his arms and hoisted her into the air, carrying her to med where Bruce and Helen were, Sam explaining the situation to them. Instantly, Helen jumped into action. She instructed Steve to lay Y/N down on one of the med’s beds and then ushered the men out of the room, where she then began grabbing various medical things and assessing Y/N’s injuries, instructing Bruce to hook her up to an IV.

Steve and Sam stood outside, not saying a word to each other, both pacing back and forth. They did not have to be silent for long, though, because pounding footsteps soon approached and the men looked up to see a very furious Natasha with Bucky trailing behind her.

The redhead’s eyes fell onto the closed med doors and huffed, turning back to Steve. “I leave her with you for training one day and she gets hurt?!” She demanded, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

Steve swallowed. “Nat, I-” He began to say, but was cut off.

“What happened?” Natasha asked.

Steve glanced up at her, first irritated when she asked him a question and then interrupted him whilst he was answering, but backed off when he saw the urgency, the nervousness in her eyes; she was scared. Scared that Y/N was really hurt and guilty.

“We were training. I threw my shield at her, expecting her to catch it or duck . . . But Sam and Buck distracted her and it hit her,” he said, not wanting to throw his friends under the bus but also knowing he had to be truthful.

Natasha stood in place, processing the information. She took a breath, and had almost completely calmed down when Bucky decided to open his mouth.

“Y’know, if anything we tested her. What if someone yelled during a mission? Is she gonna get distracted then?” He mumbled, not really meaning it but wanting to spare him and Sam Natasha’s wrath.

Karma’s a bitch, though, because it did the exact opposite.

If you blinked you’d miss it: Natasha swiftly turned and pushed Bucky against the wall, pinning him there with his hands above his hand.

“Don’t you dare start blaming this on Y/N, you hear me?” She said in a low tone, glaring.

Bucky quickly nodded and Natasha released him. When she did, the door opened and Helen appeared.

“She’ll be okay—” Helen began, and Natasha let out a breath of relief, “—but she does need to be off training for at least a month. She has a concussion, broken ankle, and . . . the shield sort of stabbed her in her stomach.”

It took a couple moments for all four to digest this. Steve paled and Natasha’s crossed arms for tighter as she bit her lip. “Can I see her?” She asked.

“She’s still unconscious, but yes,” Helen answered, nodding.

Natasha almost failed to contain the gasp lurching to leave her throat when she saw Y/N, all bandaged up. The spy gulped and sat down beside her, not knowing what else to do other than sit there, and had no clue what she’d say when Y/N woke up because she sure as hell wasn’t leaving her. Thankfully, Natasha had some time to think it out.

Almost a day later and Natasha hadn’t left — Clint had convinced her to go sleep and eat for a couple hours, but that was it — and now, Y/N woke up.

“Ms. Romanoff?” Y/N murmured in a haze of confusion, squinting her eyes to see her mentor curled up in a chair, reading a big book.

Natasha snapped her head up and immediately sat forward, a smile covering her face. “Y/N! You’re awake? How are you feeling? And how many times have I told you to call me ‘Natasha’?”

Y/N blushed but nodded. “I’m fine, probably the painkillers’ doing though . . . How long was I out?” She said.

“Around a day,” Natasha answered.

“Did you . . . Did you stay here?” Y/N asked again, a little smaller this time, playing with her blanket.

“Most of it, yeah,” Natasha murmured, relaxing into the chair.

“Really? You’re-you’re not mad?” Y/N said, eyes wide and jaw dropped in surprised.

Natasha scrunched her face up. “What? No — of course I’m not mad! You’re like my daughter! How could I be—?”

Natasha was cut off by Y/N’s loud, yet thankful gasp. The teenager sat up and wrapped her arms around Natasha and, after a moment, Natasha smiled and wrapped her arms around her too.

Y/N truly was like her daughter, and mothers were always protective over their children.

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commander-krios · 3 years

Text

Here is my gift for the @masseffectholidaycheer!

Gifted to: @acrylicsalts-inspo

Title: Strong Connections

Characters: Female Shepard, Thane Krios, Kasumi Goto, Zaeed Massani, Samara, Jeff “Joker” Moreau, Jack | Subject Zero, Garrus Vakarian

Rated: T for language

Summary: It's always the connections you make with people along the way that make a difference in your life.

aka snippets of Maeve Shepard's time with her friends during shore leave.

Story:

Kasumi Goto

“Now, Shep, don’t get mad.”

Kasumi’s voice filled the comm link between them and Shepard frowned, knowing that she wasn’t going to like what the thief said next.

“What did you do?”

The comm was silent briefly, almost as if Kasumi was debating whether to tell the truth or not. Ever since they’d taken down Donovan Hock, the two of them had formed an unlikely friendship, getting into more trouble than Shepard was used to. But in a way, it reminded her a lot of Jenkins and those old days on the first Normandy. The days when Kaidan was the voice of reason and the rest of the crew got up to no good. Days that she sorely missed and weren’t the same since Cerberus brought her back.

“Um…”

With a sigh, Shepard blew a piece of auburn hair out of her face. “Kasumi?”

“Remember when I told you I needed to take some shore leave?” Another pause. “That was a lie.”

“Despite what you think, Kasumi, I didn’t for one moment believe you were actually taking shore leave.” Shepard pulled her N7 hoodie on, zipping it up as she made her way out of her apartment and onto the bustling walkways of the Citadel. “What’s going on?”

“You’re the best, Shep. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Mostly just you.” She quipped. “Now where are you?”

“The casino.”

“Why are you- nope. Never mind. Don’t tell me. It’s probably better if I don’t know.” Maeve continued the walk down the street, keeping an eye out for C-Sec, only in case they overheard her conversation. “What do I need to do?”

“I’m stuck near the entrance. I need you to distract the guy with me so I can make my escape. I’ll disappear like I was never here in the first place.” Kasumi sounded so sure of her abilities. Shepard hoped she made good on that promise.

“You better.”

“You know me. I’m the best for a reason.”

Their link went silent. Shepard was glad for it as she glanced up at the bright lights of the casino. A handful of steps and she was in the main foyer of the lavish building. A doorman greeted her, doing a double take when he realized who she was. She ignored the astonished look as she continued her way up the much longer staircase and to where the bulk of the gambling machines were. With a quick glance around, Shepard easily found Kasumi.

The thief was standing near one of the quasar machines, but she wasn’t in her usual attire. No, she was dressed in a hooded gown that perfectly accentuated her figure. She was chatting with a well dressed man in his thirties. He was moderately attractive and Shepard didn’t realize what she was interrupting at first.

“Shepard!” Kasumi called out, waving energetically at her. “What are you doing here?”

The man beside Kasumi glanced up, his eyes widening at the sight of Shepard standing there in an N7 hoodie and sweatpants. “Commander S-Shepard?”

Shit. She was interrupting a date. Dammit, Kasumi.

Shepard put her hands in her jacket, trying to hide the fact that she was definitely underdressed and out of her comfort zone. “Hey… you. I was in the neighborhood and uh, stopped in?”

“Oh that’s great. Ron was just telling me about his latest business deal. He’s such a dear.” Kasumi smirked in Shepard’s direction and she immediately knew she was going to regret doing this favor. “Lucky me that you stopped in. He’s a huge fan of yours.”

Maeve had to stop from groaning in mortification. With a flash of her eyes in the thief’s direction, she made it clear in that look that Kasumi would pay for this later. “Uh, hi Ron. It’s nice to meet you.”

The man stared at her, dumbfounded and at a complete loss for words. With a small wave, Kasumi sneaked off, disappearing down the stairs and most likely out of the casino.

Leaving Shepard with her stunned date.

“Commander Shepard- can I ask you some questions?” He asked suddenly, taking a step closer and Shepard tried to smile at him, but the only thing she could think about was how much she was going to kill Kasumi.

Zaeed Massani

“Bloody hell, this is some awful shit.” Zaeed wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, slamming his glass on the table in front of him. The force from the movement almost toppled the table. Shepard quickly saved her drink, but the rest of the table’s items fell over. “Goddamn it.”

“Maybe if you used that mouth to drink instead of complaining, you would’ve kept up with me.” Shepard smirked, swirling the rest of the liquid left in her glass.

“If you served something better than this swill-”

Maeve held a finger up to stop his rant, taking the moment to polish off the rest of her alcohol. With a satisfied ‘ah’, she turned the empty glass over and put it down on the table. “You were saying?”

Zaeed shook his head, leaned back in his chair, and laughed. “I know when I’m beat. Where the hell did you find that shit?”

“It’s from my own personal stash. Got it on my last trip to Earth.”

“No way anyone on Earth distilled that.” Zaeed rubbed his forehead as if he was getting a headache. From the strength of the alcohol they’d just drank, he probably was.

“I didn’t say it was done legally.”

He laughed deeper this time, a full belly laugh. “You never stop surprising me, kid.”

She liked keeping him on his toes. He might play the grumpy old man, but underneath that rough exterior was a heart gentler than he wanted people to believe. “Want a chance to earn your reputation back, old man?”

“Do I hear a plan brewing in that head of yours?”

Shepard flashed him a grin. “I always have a plan when it comes to giving you a beating.”

Zaeed pushed his chair back and stood. “Well, why aren’t we leaving this damned place yet?”

Maeve bit her lip to keep from laughing at him as she followed the mercenary from the bar. The pair took a skycar to the closest shooting range. Shepard knew that there was a chance that Zaeed could win, but after all of the shots they’d taken, she knew it was unlikely.

“I get to choose the stakes.” Zaeed muttered, checking his rifle that he so affectionately called “Jessie”. “If I hit all of the targets, I get to pick the alcohol during the next night out.”

“And if I win?” She held back the eye roll that threatened to accompany the question.

“Pfft, sure, if you win, you can force me to drink more of that foul shit you call vodka.”

“Whatever will make you feel better about losing.”

Zaeed said nothing, but the look in his eyes was enough to know that her comment had the intended effect. He was fired up and that’s how she wanted him. He nudged past her to where the targets waited. He quickly took aim, neatly hitting four of the five at dead center. He missed the center of the fifth, but it was only an inch off. With a satisfied grunt, the mercenary glanced at Shepard, the gun at his side.

“Do better than that.”

Maeve smiled as she lifted her own rifle. It took her a few minutes to get her sights the way she wanted, but she took her shots, a bullseye on each target. She hesitated as she came to the last. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Zaeed’s face had paled. She would’ve enjoyed his worry at being beaten, again, but she figured she had messed with him enough for that day.

Taking a deep breath, Shepard turned to the last target, aimed and fired.

The barrel hadn’t even finished smoking when Zaeed let out a whoop of joy. “Hah! Yes. In your face, Shepard.”

Maeve rolled her eyes, but let him have his victory.

No way was she going to ever tell him that she lost on purpose.

Samara

“Do you know what I miss?”

Shepard glanced up from the book she’d been reading, surprised to see that Samara had finished her mediation and was now watching her with curiosity.

“I couldn’t even begin to guess.”

The asari stood, walking to where the large windows separated them from the bustle of the Silversun Strip. She pressed a hand against the cool glass, closing her eyes briefly. “Dancing.”

Confused, Shepard sat, placing her book beside her on the couch. “Dancing?”

Samara let a small laugh escape her lips. “Yes. I was quite wild in my youth. But out of all of the things I’ve done, dancing is the one that I still wish I did.”

“Why don’t you?”

Samara opened her eyes, looking confused by the question. “I’m a Justicar, Shepard. There isn’t really much time for fruitless pursuits.”

Shepard didn’t know much about life as a Justicar, but hunting criminals across the galaxy was exhausting. She had only chased Saren for a few months and took a much needed rest after. Samara never seemed to slow down.

She made the decision before her mind could catch up with her and convince her to leave it be. Samara was deeply important to Shepard and it was time that the Justicar knew that while her job was important, it didn’t have to be the only thing that defined her.

Samara protested during the entire trip to Flux. Well, ‘protested’ was too weak a term. Shepard was sure that if the asari didn’t respect her, she might’ve used a singularity to get revenge for dragging her out of the apartment.

Flux was nearly at capacity when they arrived, but with Shepard’s name, the pair easily got into the club. Getting Samara onto the dance floor was an entirely different situation.

“There is a war going on, Shepard.” Samara reminded her, crossing her arms over her chest. “Our thoughts should remain there.”

Maeve held out a hand, hoping that her friend would take it willingly. “The war will still be there when we get back, Samara. For now, we could use this moment for a break. We don’t want to burn ourselves out. That won’t do us any good.”

Samara considered her words seriously. “That is a valid point.”

Maeve couldn’t help but smile. “So does that mean…?”

Samara sighed, but she had a smile on her face as well. “Fine. You win, Shepard.”

Trying to keep her excitement in check, she grabbed her friend’s hand and they walked out onto the dance floor together. A new song was already starting so Shepard began to sway her hips, enjoying the way the bass thrummed through her body. Samara watched her momentarily as multi-colored lights flashed with the beat of the music, creating a mesmerizing display against Shepard’s pale skin.

And then Samara joined her.

At first, the asari moved her hips slowly, getting used to the music and it’s rhythm. Before Shepard realized what was happening, Samara had moved closer, their bodies nearly touching as they danced beside each other.

Aliens might have many differences from humans, but one thing was certain, music was something they could all enjoy.

When the music changed into something softer, Samara turned to face Shepard, a smile curling her lips. “Thank you, Shepard. I… needed this.”

“The night is still young.” Maeve responded, smiling in return.

With a nod, Samara slipped an arm around Shepard’s waist, dipping her. Maeve’s hair nearly brushed the floor as she hung upside down. “That it is, Shepard.”

Jeff “Joker” Moreau

Maeve stared at the mech that stood in front of her, not entirely sure what Joker was asking. “Come again?”

The pilot motioned at the machine, a sheepish grin on his face. He almost looked embarrassed. “I wanted to try one of the mechs. For, uh, science?”

She pursed her lips, trying not to laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck. “And you invited me here to do what, exactly?”

“Be my backup, Shepard!”

“I think EDI would be better suited for something like that, Joker.” She glanced up at the imposing figure of the machine again. “Especially with this.”

Jeff slanted his eyes at her, clearly not amused with her line of thinking. “If I wanted to ask EDI, I would’ve.”

Maeve crossed her arms over her chest. “EDI said no, didn’t she?”

Jeff refused to answer the question, but the truth was easy to read on his face. She was sure that EDI had not only refused, but had given him a list of reasons as to why the idea was terrible and dangerous.

“Fine. I’ll help, but only on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“If you break anything, you don’t tell EDI I helped you do this.”

“Deal. Now- can you help me get into this damn thing?”

Shepard laughed, unable to help herself. He was just so damned frustrated. It would be cute if she was anyone else but his commanding officer. “Of course, Flight Lieutenant.”

Joker scowled at her, but didn’t say anything in response. Shepard helped him into the mech suit as carefully as she could, taking note of the exoskeleton he had put on in preparation for this. At least he would be able to move more comfortably without fear of breaking a leg. Once he was strapped into the contraption, the pilot gave Shepard a shit eating grin.

“Ready?” She asked, knowing what his answer was before he spoke.

“Hell yeah. I’ve never been more ready for something in my life.”

She took a step back, leaving Joker to his fun. With a gleeful expression, he aimed the mech’s rocket launcher at the targets set up some distance away. Then he fired.

The resulting explosion made Joker laugh, the excited sound bringing a smile to Shepard’s face. It’d been a long time since she saw her friend with some happiness on his face. She wasn’t the only person who clearly needed shore leave.

“Shepard? Watch this!” He didn’t even wait before using both of the mech’s arms to fire at another target. The rocket and minigun combination obliterated the target within seconds. “Holy shit! Is this how you feel when you fight?”

“That’s called adrenaline, Joker. You can’t tell me that you don’t feel like that when piloting.”

“That’s totally different!”

“How?” She asked, curious but also not believing that flying the Normandy wasn’t some sort of adrenaline rush. “You fly a huge death machine that has guns.”

“Ok, fair comparison, but at least the likelihood that I’ll get hurt in the Normandy is slim.”

“Unless it explodes. Like it did before.”

“Ok, fun killer.” Joker snapped, though it was clearly in jest. He had a smile on his face. “Another twenty minutes and we’ll call it quits. Before EDI realizes what I’m doing.”

Maeve laughed. “Ok, adrenaline junkie. Get it out of your system before we get back to the ship. I don’t need you taking shots at everything in space.”

Joker rolled his eyes. “I’m a professional, Shepard. I only shoot when I’m shot at first.”

She crossed her arms, waiting for him to line up his next shot. “Mhm.”

Time passed quickly, but as each minute ticked by, Maeve ignored the clock, giving Joker as much time as he needed to get his fill of the mech suit. EDI would probably be upset, but it made him happy. It was the only thing she could give him at the moment with the war waiting for them.

Jack

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Maeve asked as she lay face down on a massage table, her entire upper body naked and exposed to the biotic who stood beside her.

“No, but you trust me. Right?”

Lifting her head so that she could look at her friend, Shepard raised an eyebrow. “Why does that not fill me with confidence?”

Jack shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. “Fuck if I know. Now sit still.”

Biting her lip, Maeve did as she was told, waiting for Jack to finish getting her supplies together for the tattoo. “Aye, aye.”

Jack nudged her with an elbow and Shepard responded with an exaggerated ‘ow.’ “Stop moving or I’ll give you something to cry about.”

The room was quiet except for the buzz of the tattoo gun. Shepard gritted her teeth against the sudden sharp pains as Jack began to outline whatever it was that she was drawing. Maeve was tempted to ask about the design, but she figured Jack wouldn’t say a word about it until it was finished. Instead, she decided to ask the other question in her mind.

“Why are you doing this?”

Jack was silent for a moment, concentrating on her work. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. Much quieter than was normal for her. “Because you’ve done a lot for me and I… I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Jack. We’re friends.”

“Ugh, I hate this touchy feely shit.” She didn’t sound like she hated it. In fact, if Shepard pressed her, Jack would probably admit that she considers them the best of friends as well. But if she wanted to pretend otherwise, Shepard could play along.

“So what am I to you? Just someone to poke needles into?” She knew that the smile on her face was obvious in her tone of voice, but she couldn’t help it.

She could practically hear Jack’s eyes roll. “Are you trying to provoke me?”

“Why? Is it working?”

“You’re the worst, Shepard.” Jack said, a laugh slipping past her lips. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be that pissed off kid on Purgatory. I didn’t know what I was missing until I met you… until we became friends.”

“I’ll always be your friend, Jack. I promise.”

Maeve didn’t make promises lightly, but this was one she knew she could keep.

“Thanks.” Jack moved away, turning the tattoo gun off and setting it down on the table beside her. “You’re finished. Did you want to see?”

“Hell yeah. What kind of question is that?” Maeve practically jumped off of the table, covering her chest with her shirt. Glancing over her shoulder, she let her eyes take in the sight in the mirror that Jack held up. Her breath caught, a simple rose sitting upon her shoulder blade, shaded with a bit of yellow. “Why the yellow?”

“For friendship. It’s like symbolism or something.”

“Or something.” Shepard repeated, awed by the sight. “I love it, Jack. Thank you for doing this.”

“Like you said, Shepard. You’re my friend. This is just a way to show that I’m not giving that up easily.”

Garrus Vakarian

With her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth, Maeve twisted a few wires before removing her hand from the console. It’d been too long since she had worked with tech and even though she probably shouldn’t have been messing with the Normandy’s systems, she was bored. Her auburn hair was piled atop of her head, pieces falling down her neck, tickling her skin. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she squinted her eyes, the lack of light making it difficult for her to see what she was doing.

A cough broke her concentration. Her finger brushed an exposed wire and she yelped when it shocked her. Grumbling, her gaze found the intruder. “What do you want, Vakarian?”

Garrus Vakarian was leaning against the opposite wall, his eyes watching her with amusement. “What compelled you to come down here and mess with my calibrations?”

She ignored his question. “I have no idea what I’m doing at the moment, but I know I’m doing it wrong.”

Garrus chuckled, leaving his perch against the wall to join her on the floor. He had difficulty folding his long legs enough to sit and it brought a smirk to Maeve’s lips. He was the biggest dork she’d ever met. “Let’s see what you’ve broken now.”

Pursing her lips, she gave him a frown. “I don’t always break everything I touch.”

Garrus’ mandibles twitched when he laughed again, his concentration mostly on the wires she’d ruined. “Ok well you break most of the things you touch.”

Maeve smiled, grateful for his presence despite the teasing. She never expected it to happen, but he’d become one of her closest friends. Her best friend, even. Going to war with him at her side was the greatest honor of her life.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she glanced at the console beside her, feeling guilty at ruining all of his hard work. When she met his gaze, her expression was pleading. “Could we not… mention this to anyone?”

“You mean the destruction of the Thanix Cannon?”

Maeve nodded, biting her lip. She was sure that Joker would be furious.

“He’ll never even realize.” He promised, pulling her to stand up with him. “What do you say we get out of here before you break anything else?”

Maeve rolled her eyes, but a smile was permanently affixed to her face. Garrus had that effect on people and by people, she really meant herself.

Thane Krios

“Siha.”

With a yawn, Maeve stretched her body out, her feet brushing against the leather couch. When she opened her eyes, she had to blink a few times to really appreciate the image before her. Thane. He was sitting on the couch, her head in his lap as she’d slept. A peaceful dreamless sleep… something that hadn’t happened in so long.

“Thane.” She said, almost breathless as she stared at him, his beauty still mesmerizing even after all of this time.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, his lips warm against her skin. At the touch, Maeve felt like a giddy teenager, her heart pounding at the closeness of the man she loved. To think that she nearly lost him only a few weeks ago…

Banishing the thought from her mind, Shepard sat up, turning so she could lean into Thane gently. He was still healing from the fight with Kai Leng. But he was here with her. She would forever thank whatever forces allowed that to be true.

Thane brushed his hand over her hair, humming a tune low in his throat. Maeve closed her eyes again, resting her head on his shoulder, feeling the vibrations from his chest. There was so much coming on the horizon: the war, the Reapers, the battle for Earth… and if they survived it all, rebuilding.

And she was aware of all of that and more.

But for once, Shepard wanted to be selfish. For once, she wanted to take care of her needs and desires. And those included a quiet night in her new apartment with Thane by her side.

“Thane…” She began, but stopped, not sure how to continue.

When she didn’t speak again, Thane shifted so that he could meet her gaze. “What is it, Siha?”

Chewing her lip, she tried to figure out how to explain her thoughts. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Take a breath, concentrate, and speak from the heart. I will listen.”

Nodding, she closed her eyes and did as he instructed. After a moment, she knew what it was she needed to tell him. “If anything happens to me during this war, I want you to know that you were the best thing that ever happened to me. If it hadn’t been for you, for your love, for your patience and support, I’m not sure I would’ve made it this far.”

Thane was silent, waiting for her to finish.

“Almost losing you nearly killed me. I can’t imagine what might’ve become of me if I had.” Maeve glanced away from his perceptive eyes, unable to handle the emotion crushing her.

Thane took her hand between his own. “May I speak, Siha?”

“Of course. You never have to ask.”

Thane smiled, leaning forward to put a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze once more. “We both know those words are lies. You would’ve continued on, you would’ve fought the war, defeated the Reapers because that’s who you are, Siha. You are a warrior. You are strong. You don’t need me.”

“Thane-”

“It’s the truth. You are more than you think you are. And even without me by your side, I am with you. Always.”

Blinking back tears, Maeve leaned forward, meeting his lips with her own, feeling her fears disappear as fast as they’d come on. He was right: she would keep fighting because there were people that needed her. The galaxy had to be protected. That’s who she was.

Thane hadn’t made her into that person, but he made her stronger. Because of him, she believed that they could win. That they would win. In the end, it was Thane’s confidence in her abilities, her leadership that made it so. And she would continue to fight.

Until her very last breath. Because she was a hero and that’s what heroes did.

They fought.

#mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #my writing #acrylicsalts-inspo #masseffectholidaycheer #holiday harbinger #female shepard #femshep #kasumi goto #zaeed massani #samara #jeff joker moreau #jack #garrus vakarian #thane krios #femshep x thane #shrios

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reawritesthings · 3 years

Note

"Don't go on that date." "Why?" "You know why." "Say it." / "I saw you looking at it last time we were in the store together, so I got it for you." / "Go with me?" "Only if you hold my hand." whichever gives you the most inspo, free range babeye ily

i did the first one with college!roommate!tom!

enjoy <3

You weren't sure if it was a date or just two friends who kissed once, or maybe twice sorta hang out. Truth be told, you were nervous, scared that things might not go the way you wanted it to be.

You met Colin at a college party, not ideal but you were forced to go by your roommate, Tom. He was much more popular than you and without him showing up there would be no party.

Tom was very good at persuading you to come wether you wanted to or not, it was that look in his whisken eyes that you just couldn't say no too. So, you both decided to go and that's how you met Colin.

After three weeks, you both decided to go on a date something that Tom wasn't too pleased about. You were confused to say the least why Tom was so against you going, after all it was him that technically set you both up.

You thought he would be happy for you. You were always supportive when he went out on dates? Why can't he?

"Tom. I'm about to go." You called from the kitchen, opening and closing the cabinets to search for some gum.

No answer.

"Tom? Hello?" You whined, checking the clock. You were already late and Tom being a ghost wasn't helping. "Okay, fine. I'm leaving now. Food is on the hob and don't wait up for me."

As you made it to the door, Tom creaked his door open and lightly called your name. You signed, turning around to see him in his sweats with no shirt on.

"Don't go on that date." He whispered, walking closer to you.

"Why?" You frowned, as you moved yourself back. You completely forgot about how close you were to the door, and felt your body hit.

"You know why?" Tom mumbled, placing his hands either side of you.

"Say it." You murmured, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat. You have never seen Tom so focused, the way his eyes looked deeper into yours, and the sudden shiver that rode down your spine when Tom traced your cheek with his thumb.

"He isn't right for you, Y/N. I know boys like Colin, he wants only one thing from you."

You scoffed, "Isn't that what you do with girls when you take them on dates? I don't even see them again."

"Because they aren't you. You know how hard it is to fake a smile or a laugh with these girls. I have no interest in them, they are just distractions."

"Distractions from what?"

"You." He chuckled. "You Y/N are the person I want to be with all the time. I was just trying to get you out of my head because I know you wouldn't go for a guy like me, but, seeing you with a guy whose name is Colin, doesn't seem right."

"I didn't know you felt like this, Tommy." You said, slightly ducking under him to take your coat off. "I wish you just told me sooner. I wouldn't have wasted money on make-up."

"You don't need make up." He laughed. "You are naturally beautiful."

"God, Tommy. What am I suppose to do about Colin?"

"Tell him that you much rather stay in and watch New Girl with your dashingly handsome roommate."

"Fine. I'll be back in a minute." You said, and go straight into your room, feeling a slight blush hit your cheeks at the sound of Tom's confession.

#tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tomhollandblurb #tom holland smut #college!tom #roommate!tom

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noyaism · 4 years

Text

A Night Off

Being the Erwin simp I am, he had to be my first AoT fic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Pairing: Erwin SmithxFem!Reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: choking, creampie, super soft ending, little bit of angst at the beginning (tw: death), praising, little bit of size kink (lmk if I missed any warnings !!)

Song Inspo: A Night Off - Drake

Life within the walls was as mundane as life could get. It might've been peaceful, yes. Hell, it was the only life you could be having, but still, you yearned to know more of the world you lived in, as you felt as if there had to be more. The walls and the titans beyond it couldn't be all there was. That just seemed so limited to you, in a world that just had to be vast. Maybe this was simply your thinking because you were a child. Of course the world had to be bigger than what you knew, it's not like you knew much of it anyway. Or maybe there really was more base to what you thought, maybe your fantasies were a reality.

Because you were as fascinated with the world as you were, history was your favorite subject growing up. You sat up a little straighter, clutched your pencil a little harder, listened just a bit more intently whenever the lesson started. A decent amount of the things you were taught made sense to you. However, something about the prospect of the walls being all that was left of humanity, that there was simply nothing but thousands, maybe even millions of titans outside just waiting to devour you and nothing else, just didn't sit right. It seemed so oddly far fetched, and you couldn't put your finger on why it felt that way. Apparently you weren't the only one who was feeling unsettled by this.

A small boy raised his hand, you recognized him as the teacher's kid; Erwin Smith. There was a look of pure curiosity in his eyes as he questioned his father, you could tell he was having the same feelings you were.

“If we lost all records of what the outside world was like, how do we know we’re the only ones left?”

It was odd for you, hearing someone else have the same question you did, something that came to plague your young mind. You wondered what the boy might've been thinking about what was outside.

The teacher, his father, dismissed the question, going on about the lesson. Erwin looked defeated as he sat back down, continuing to take his notes as if nothing happened. His eyes told a different story, though. There was a lot going on in his mind, and at your lunch break you decided to pick his brain.

“So what do you think is outside?” You asked the boy as you went to sit next to him in the schoolyard. Your backs were to the wall, and you both carefully ate your sandwiches as you surveyed all of the other children running about freely. The two of you weren't like them, that was plain enough to see.

“I’m not sure really, but the story my father told just doesn't entirely make sense. Almost as if we’re being led to believe something that isn't true at all. Do you get what I mean?” You nodded your head at the boy’s question, letting out a small sigh.

“My parents have told me that same thing, and it just doesn't really sit right with me. But then again it's what everyone knows, right? So maybe we’re crazy or something.” Erwin laughed lightly at your words, nodding along.

“Yeah, maybe we are. At least I know someone as crazy as me now.”

And from that moment on, you and Erwin became the best of friends. The next day Erwin told you he had something important to tell you during lunch. The two of you sat in the same place you had the day prior, and he divulged to you everything his father had told him. You sat in utter amazement, slowly chewing on your food as the theory was explained.

“So the history that we know is all a lie? The king just wanted to make people easier to control?” Erwin nodded his head intently, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, so he changed the memory of all his subjects, and altered any historical records to follow suit. That's why we don't know anything about the world beyond the walls, the knowledge has been stolen from us, and it's been so long since then that it's doubtful anyone truly remembers.”

This all made an insurmountable amount of sense to you, and when Erwin decided he wanted to tell your fellow classmates, you agreed to help him spread the information around. That night when you told your family they simply laughed, thinking it was some crazy theory you and Erwin had made up. They thought it was cute and completely dismissed it, but advised against telling too many people about it, just in case it might have caused you any sort of trouble. You thought they were crazy for not believing, but realized you couldn't force them to. You also didn't understand what they meant by getting in trouble through telling people of this theory. That was until the Military Police questioned you and Erwin. You kept your calm and the two of you thoroughly explained what Mr.Smith had told Erwin, and were let on your way. Unfortunately, Mr. Smith didn't come home that night, leaving Erwin orphaned.

You held Erwin’s hand at his father’s funeral, offering all the emotional support you could. Death is usually hard for children to grasp, but the two of you knew that his death wasn't an accident, and that the Military Police berid of him because of his theories on the history of your society and the world beyond it. While Erwin held onto hope that there was justification in his father’s murder, you rightly knew there couldn't be any motive that would make it right.

As you both continued to grow up you and Erwin always had each other’s backs. Where one of you went the other wasn't far behind, and the both of you intended for it to always be that way. You seemed to be the only two people that had any inkling of the truth, and so it was best you two stuck together. You both decided to join the Survey Corps, as it was your best shot at ever being able to find the truth, and get some sort of vengeance for Mr. Smith. It meant a lot to you to be able to go into the outside and find what you knew had to be true, and it meant just as much to Erwin, probably even more.

When Shiganshina district fell and Commander Shadis stepped away from his position, Erwin was appointed his successor. Before he was officially sworn in you got him alone, wanting to know how he was feeling about it all. There was nobody in the world who you were closer to than Erwin, and you knew this was going to be a lot for him to handle.

“So, am I going to have to start calling you Commander now? I am technically older than you, addressing you as my superior will be kind of weird.”

“For you and me both, but if this is the task I’m giving then I'm going to do it, and do it proudly. If they think I’m fit enough to lead the Scouts it's an honor, and it's one I can't give up. Especially if that means I can get closer to the truth. You know I have to do this y/n.” You let out a small sigh, nodding your head. You pulled up a chair beside him, putting an arm around him.

“I know you do, but just know I’m always here. I've been your right hand since we were kids, and you've been mine. That isn't ever changing. We’re gonna find the truth, no matter how many expeditions it takes. I couldn't possibly think of a better person to take orders from than you.”

Since his father had died Erwin didn’t smile much, but in that moment he flashed a big one at you, and it was almost like the two of you were kids again.

The Survey Corps wasn't an easy job in the slightest. A lot of the time you had to watch your comrades die in front of you, while you yourself were just narrowly escaping the jaws of death. Add onto that a growing dislike by the public, and it took quite the thick skin to proudly call yourself a scout. You did so without second thought, especially now that your best friend was the commander. You did get moments of escape, though, and you did get to become really close to the people you worked with. From the day you met Moblit Berner you found him to be quite the endearing person. He seemed almost too soft to be a scout initially, but softness wasn't really an option for him as he was tasked with keeping Section Commander Hange in check.

You and Moblit had developed a bit of a romance within a fairly short period of time. You were attracted to his kindness, how gentle and loyal he was behind the panicky exterior. You had a lot of love for him in your heart, but part of you couldn't lay a finger on why you didn't see longevity with him. It was in no way his fault, at the very least you were sure of that, but you couldn't quite give a clear explanation as to why it was you felt that way. The question plagued you, and it became obvious Moblit was starting to catch on.

“Y/n?” He asked, shaking your arm lightly and breaking you out of your trance. The two of you were in his chambers, just talking as you normally did. Nothing was out of the ordinary, despite you being so uncharacteristically distracted.

“Sorry, sorry I was just really lost in thought. There's a lot going on right now, it's all really overwhelming.”

“Yeah, it is. But I don't think work is why you're feeling so overwhelmed, at least not the whole reason why.” You sighed at Moblit’s words, running a hand through your hair. You weren't exactly sure what to say, it's not like you could explain what you were feeling at all.

“I get it, though. I've been feeling really overwhelmed too, and not just because of work. I don’t really know how else to say this, so I’m just going to come clean. Y/n, I care for you a lot, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t, or that I've been lying to you or anything. It’s just that I’ve come to realize that I actually have really strong feelings for Nifa, and-”

“You...you’re saying that you have feelings for someone else?” You quickly cut him off. You avoided eye contact with him, trying to decipher what you were feeling to the best of your ability.

“I am, and I’m really sorry that’s the case, but I have to be honest with you and with myself.”

The both of you sat in silence for a while, the quiet thick in the air. You still couldn't tell what you were feeling, and you weren't sure you were going to be able to figure it out yourself, either.

“It's okay, Moblit. I’m just glad you were honest with me, I guess. I wish you the best, and I hope Nifa returns your sentiments. You're a really good guy, and she's a really good girl. I hope it all goes well for you two.”

Before Moblit could even reply you left the room, heading straight to Erwin’s without once looking back. Moblit didn't bother to chase you, knowing well that it was better to leave you be to work out your feelings. You didn't waste time knocking on Erwin’s door, simply opening it up and leaning against it as you closed it. He was sat at the small table in the room, writing in a journal by the firelight. He looked up at you in confusion, not at all mad you simply came busting in, though. It was something you did since you were kids, he was completely used to it by that point.

“Moblit just broke up with me.” You said, finally peeling yourself off the door. Erwin stood and walked over to hug you, his much bigger frame engulfing yours as he did his best to comfort you.

“I’m really sorry about that, Y/n. What happened?” He asked as he pulled away, going back to sit and you joining him in the seat opposite his.

“He told me he has feelings for Nifa. I can’t really say I'm surprised, she’s a beautiful girl, has a great personality.”

“It’s not like you don't, you know. Don't sell yourself short.”

“I’m not, I’m not. I guess if I were him I would have feelings for her, too. Especially with how I’ve been lately. I wasn't ever really present with him. Something always just felt off to me, and I couldn't put my finger on what exactly it was.”

Erwin took a moment to think before he responded, closing the journal and putting it aside.

“Were you simply just losing interest in him?” He questioned.

“I dunno, I kinda feel like I wasn't ever really interested in him at all.” You started, letting out a sigh before continuing.

“I feel like...I feel like what I felt for Moblit was almost like I was just...deflecting what I was actually feeling.”

“And what was it that you were actually feeling?” Erwin replied, looking a bit confused as to what you meant.

You looked into his eyes, the same eyes you had gazed upon for countless years now, and in that moment, something clicked in your head. Every moment the two of you had spent together, every time one of you saved the other, every laugh, every smile, every word of support, it all flooded you in an instant. It felt as if the whole world shifted, like nothing ever really made any sort of sense until that very moment. The two of you had been by each other’s side for so long, and you had watched him grow from a bright eyed child to a strong willed man, and in every moment you could think of you had been falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

“That I love you, Erwin. And I guess I kind of always have.”

Your words were simple, concise. Erwin’s gaze turned soft as you spoke, and he moved his chair over to sit in front of you. He took your hand in his, gently running his thumb over your knuckles. Both of your hands were callused and hardened from years of training and fighting, and yet in that moment there was a softness in how he held your hand that you didn't know either of you could even possess at this juncture.

“I’ve been waiting a really long time to hear you say that, Y/n.” Your head, which was down so you could watch how he held your hand, immediately perked up as you heard him speak words you couldn't even believe were real. This time it was you that looked at him in confusion, which melted away as he leaned in and kissed you. You gathered from his words that Erwin had been feeling this same way for a considerable amount of time, yet wasn't sure if he should act on it or not. While part of you wish he would've, you were glad he didn't. This moment was utterly perfect, and even the slightest of differences wouldn't have made it the same.

Erwin pulled you into his lap, kissing you harder now that the gap between your bodies had been bridged. His arms stayed wrapped around your waist, and your hands snaked up into his hair, tangling themselves in his golden strands. For a moment you thought about how this might affect your friendship, but you realized your friendship had always been so much more than just that. This was just the culmination of years of pent up emotion.

Erwin placed kiss after kiss on your jaw, bringing them down to your neck as he softly bit your skin. In an instant you remembered how you complained about how Moblit was too soft with you to Erwin, and it seemed he had learned from the other man’s mistakes. A soft moan escaped your lips as Erwin continued to mark his territory, each kiss and bite making you fall weaker and weaker in his grasp. You began to grind your hips into his, enjoying the friction between the two of you. Erwin stood, moving his arm under your thighs to hold you up, walking over to the bed and carefully laying you down. He loomed over you, illuminated by the moonlight bleeding in from the window on your left, and the candlelight on the right. He looked utterly godly above you, it made you crave even more of him.

He started to quickly unbutton his shirt, and you did the same, needing to lessen the number of layers between your skin. This wasn't the first time you had seen Erwin shirtless, although it wasn't necessarily a common occurrence, and this time it made your cheeks heat up. You simply couldn't believe how beautiful he was. A small smirk pulled up the corner of his lips as he leaned down closer to you, his lips just barley ghosting over yours.

“Like what you see, gorgeous?” He teased, kissing you needily. You chuckled lightly, nodding your head a bit. Erwin was never like this, the playfulness in his tone so different than his usual stoicism. Seeing him like that was enough of a turn on, but the fact his affections were focused on you made it even more attractive.

“More than you’ll ever know.” You replied before kissing him again. He trailed kisses down your neck and onto your chest, once again starting to mark you up. He showed no restraint in how he touched you, and you allowed him free reign over your body. He swiftly removed your bra and left a mess of small hickeys and bruises all over your torso. He took time to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly on the nub as he rolled the opposite one between his fingers. Your fingers scratched at his back, your legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close. Even just this felt euphoric, and it only made you want more, whatever “more” could be.

“May I?” Erwin asked as he tugged lightly on the waistband of your pants. You nodded quickly, and with a smile he undressed you further. Shoes, pants and underwear were discarded onto the floor, and there you were, completely bare in front of him. Erwin took a moment to admire you. Even if you were a soldier, a warrior, in this moment you were as delicate as a flower to him, the most precious rose. You were so small in comparison to him he almost mistook you for fragile, but he knew better than anyone just how strong you actually were, and how much you could take. In a more literal, fighting sense at least. He wanted to make you melt, though, and was certain he knew well how to.

He left kiss after kiss on your inner thighs, making you squirm in anticipation. He held your hips down, halting all movement he didn't approve of. The mere sight of him between your thighs made you so excited, your pussy already dripping without having been touched even once. It was almost embarrassing for you, but it only made Erwin want to devour you even more. He moved your legs to drape over his shoulders, and his hands held onto your thighs as he finally made contact with your core. The lightest touch of his tongue felt like the sweetest sensation, had you been any more deprived of pleasure than you were just that would've been enough to bring you close to the edge, but you were intent on holding out for him.

His lips closed around your clit, sucking lightly as he brought a hand down to your folds, fingers teasing your entrance. With how wet you were they were easily permitted entry, two of Erwin’s digits pushing into you with ease. Your hips circled on his mouth and your hands moved to his hair to push his head closer to you, anything to feel more, anything to bring yourself to the edge of glory and then some. His fingers curled up to brush up on the most sensitive parts of you, the feeling making your back arch and an elongated moan to fall from your lips. You didn’t want to get too loud, as it was getting late and you knew your comrades were probably trying to get some sleep, but you truly couldn’t help yourself, nothing had ever felt as good as this, and you were just getting started.

It didn’t take much more for you to rocket into your first orgasm, your juices coating his fingers. He slowed them down, their pace having been fairly rapid, until you reached the end of your orgasm. He pulled them out slowly, agonizingly so, and licked them clean, taking in your flavor. A smirk curled the side of his mouth, and without a word he was right back between your thighs, lapping up every last drop of you.

“E-Erwin…” You breathlessly pleaded, chest heaving as overstimulation started to poke at your senses. You didn’t even know what you were pleading for. You surely didn’t want him to stop pleasing you, frankly if you could do this for hours on end you would’ve, but you simply couldn’t articulate what it was you wanted. Erwin came up from between your legs, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips as his body once again engulfed yours.

As he pulled away you looked into his eyes, the little skies you came to know so well, and you saw something there you’d never seen before. A mixture of love and lust that darkened their color just a bit. Even the look in his eyes made it quite clear what his intentions with you were, and you had no intention of objecting to whatever was to come.

“Quiet down, baby. Just trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

Erwin quickly undressed himself completely, not wanting to waste any more time. He wanted to be inside you just as badly as you wanted him, maybe even more. If there was anything he needed, it was a night off. A night to indulge himself in pleasures he usually denied, too wrapped up in military life to give anything of that nature a second thought. If there was anyone who was going to get him like this, it was you, the woman he was madly in love with.

For a lot of people, all work and no play made them dull. For Erwin, however, it made him all the more ready to give you absolutely everything.

With a quick thrust he entered you, making your back arch hard as your hands grabbed onto his arms for support. The man was very naturally endowed, and taking only about half of him as you were was still a lot, and he was well aware of that. He wanted to push you, see how much you could actually take. Once you seemed to settle he gave you the rest at a much more manageable pace, a smirk on his lips as he bottomed out.

“Look at that, so you can handle it. Good girl.” He praised, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead before he started to move. His strokes were slow, but they hit so deep, you felt so full. Just as he had said, he certainly knew what he was doing.

He took you like this for a while, admiring how utterly gorgeous you looked like this. How you squirmed with his every move, how your mouth laid open lazily as you moaned, how your eyes started to glaze over as you gave yourself over to undying pleasure. It was a thing of beauty, slowly ruining you as he was. He brought a hand to wrap around your neck, squeezing softly before picking up the pace of his thrusts. He didn't question if you could take it, he knew you would.

The slight asphyxiation turned the feeling of pleasure up to ten, making your walls clench tighter around Erwin’s length. As he picked up his speed your hands moved to his back, your nails lightly marking up his skin. Your body jolted upward with how he pounded into you, it was utterly relentless. You moved one of your hands to rub your clit, another orgasm ready to take you over. You quickly hooked your legs around his waist, letting him in even deeper, and a couple thrusts as this new angle sent you into your second orgasm.

You were getting pretty loud, and as much as Erwin loved all the pretty little noises you were making, he knew it was probably better to quiet you down some. He let go of your throat and pulled out, flipping you onto your stomach. Your cheek came clad to the pillow below you, and you felt your hips being pushed up into the air. Erwin had to stop for a second to admire this display, the way your pussy gleamed with your essence, it was intoxicating.

“Keep it quiet. Don't give me a reason to punish you, angel.” His words were both orders and a warning, and you were in your right mind to obey. You nodded your head just as he pushed into you once again, and you let a long moan out into the pillow beneath you.

His hands gripped hard onto your hips, and once again he moved at a pace that let you know his lust was borderline insatiable. You moved your hips in time with his, the sound of skin to skin contact filling the room. Erwin let out low grunts from between his lips, and in harmony with your muffled moans a symphony of the utmost carnal desires was being played. Every instrument, your bodies, perfectly in tune.

As strong as you were, you felt so weak, your legs about ready to give out with how bad they were shaking. If it weren’t for Erwin holding you up you certainly would’ve toppled to the bed by now, but you were trying your hardest to hold your own. You wanted, nay, needed to take him. To take everything he gave you, and more if possible.

Moan after moan spilled helplessly onto the pillow as you felt him begin to lightly twitch inside you. Your walls tightened around his length for the last couple thrusts, and he soon emptied a fairly large load of his seed inside of you.

The both of you breathed heavily, exhaustion starting to set into your bodies. He pulled out of you slowly, sitting back and watching his cum start to drip out of you. Just as your legs completely gave out he scooped you up and laid you on your back. He moved to lay beside you, and you placed your head on his chest, just listening to his heartbeat as you both caught your breath. You almost couldn’t believe what had just transpired, had it not been for the exhaustion you felt, and you now joining hands with Erwin.

“Do you think things will ever end? And maybe our lives can be somewhat normal?” You asked, eyes fixed on you and Erwin’s hands. He rubbed your back with his free hand, tracing small shapes into your skin.

“I’m not sure, honestly. One could only hope, I guess.”

“Well I do. When things are finally safe and all, I think we should buy a nice house, have a couple kids, and just live a quiet life.” You replied, looking up at him with a small smile. Despite how much you loved being in the Survey Corps, and how important it was to you to be here and to fight for your freedom, part of you wished things were different. You wished you and Erwin could just go off and be together, but both of you were so deeply loyal to your cause, it just wasn’t a possibility.

“Yeah, I think that’d be nice. When we finally make it out, I promise you we can.” You smiled even brighter at his words, placing a soft kiss on his lips before nuzzling back into his chest.

“Until then, we’re keeping each other safe. Just like we always have. That means I’m going to need you to gamble with your life just a little bit less.” Erwin laughed lightly, nodding his head in reply.

“Well to be fair, up until a little while ago, I had nothing to lose. Now I do.”

#attack on titan #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyojin #commander erwin #erwin #aot erwin #erwin smith #erwin smut

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

Text

2. Birthday Kisses

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 8.1k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: thank you for all the love on this story so far!!!! i’m so happy that so many of you are loving Y/N and Harry as much as me. shoot me messages about your thoughts and feelings - i want to hear them!!! xoxo

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

Harry had spent days trying to figure out where to take Y/N for their date. She said he would get one date, and so he was going to make sure it counted. After speaking to his mum and Gemma, as well as James Corden because it’s always good to have a grown man’s opinion, and the entirety of his band. On James’s recommendation, he found a drive-in movie theater on the outskirts of LA. Perfect because it was simple, would allow them to talk, and most of all, it was private. He would drive his own car with the tinted windows and he wouldn’t even really have to talk to anyone. Y/N had made it perfectly obvious that she wasn’t interested in dating a musician, so Harry wanted to keep their date as low key as possible as a result—he wanted her to forget what his job was and just get to know him as a person.

Deciding what to wear for their date was possibly harder, though. Did he just wear jeans and t-shirt? A button down? It was January, so did he go for a sweater? He had Harry Lambert on FaceTime for two hours going through outfits before Lambert told him to just pick something comfortable and that he had to go to bed. So Harry settled on a black button down and black jeans—simple, but he felt good in it. Confident. And he thought he looked good too—he had been working out, partially for Dunkirk filming back in the 2016, but also just generally. Since the band had broken up he had had more time to actually dedicate to himself, and he enjoyed it. Before, exercise had always been something squeezed into the day on the road, him half exhausted and barely alive enough to focus, and now he had energy and the motivation. It was a completely different experience. (It also helped that the other guys weren’t distracting him the whole time.)

At five thirty, he drove over to Y/N’s place—she’d moved out of her dad’s house after the renovation a few days ago. She had told him over text and he had to admit, he felt honored that she had shared facts of her life over text with him after how hesitant she was to go on the date with him.

I’m here, he texted her when he pulled up outside her building. It was an older style but in a nice neighborhood, a light brown brick exterior and not too modern. Can I come up?

Sure, she answered, Just finishing getting ready. Apt. 3C

He pulled on sunglasses, his lame attempt at a disguise, and headed inside, entering the gate code she sent over. He bounded up the stairs, thankful for the exercise to keep his brain busy. If he had taken the elevator he would’ve just stood there panicking. A welcome mat sat outside her door saying Welcome Home! and he smiled at it before knocking softly on her door.

She opened it a few beats later, shoeless and only one earring in. “Hi,” her voice breathless. “Sorry I’m a mess still, come on in.”

“No problem,” he answered, stepping inside. “Shoes on or…?”

“On is fine,” she replied. “I’m not as anal about it as my Dad is.”

Harry nodded, leaving his shoes on, and glanced around her place. There were some things still in disarray, probably from the recent renovation, but all in all it looked perfectly lived in and homey. He missed London and his house, the feeling of having a home base and someplace that felt like his own. He liked the house he was renting for the time being, but it wasn’t his, the bed wasn’t as comfortable as his one in Hampstead, and he desperately missed his expensive blender for morning smoothies. “I like your place.”

Y/N glanced around the space before back at him. “Thank you. Um, make yourself at home? I’ll be just a few.” With that, she was gone into a bedroom, Harry left in the kitchen. He wandered into the living room and explored her bookcase. She had a great selection of stuff, everything from classics like Zora Neale Hurston to The Hunger Games, which Harry had secretly adored and read three times. The walls were laden with picture frames of her and friends from what seemed like her time in college—kegs and Halloween costumes featured prominently, as well as some with her friends at the beach. He tried not to think about her in a bikini for too long. There was also a framed sheet of paper and when he looked closer he realized it was the lyrics to her father’s most famous song, one which he realized was definitely about becoming a father to Y/N. He had listened to all of her father’s music in preparation for their songwriting session and this one was one of his favorites, the raw emotion in it breathtaking.

“Okay,” she aid, entering the doorway of her room. “I’m ready.” She had a different top, the soft purple chiffon falling in vents, swishing as she moved. A pair of loose but flattering denim jeans on her legs, black booties giving her a few more inches in height. A pale red lip and light eyeliner that made her brown eyes pop, the same kind that had been done on my own eyes for many a photoshoot. She looked perfect, gorgeous, like words he didn’t even have.

“You look…incredible,” he said, struggling to speak.

Y/N glanced down at her clothes and then back at him. “Uh, thank you. You too.”

Harry smiled at her and then nodded to the door. “C’mon, we don’t want to be late.”

“You have’t even told me where we’re going!”

“It’s a secret.”

“I don’t want it to be a secret,” she said when they got in the elevator. Harry didn’t want to make her climb down stairs in her boots.

“Well, you’ll have to live,” Harry replied. He hoped she liked the date. If not, he was truly fucked.

When he pulled into the drive-in, Y/N laughed and the sound made Harry’s heart soar. It wasn’t too packed, it being a Wednesday night and all, so they were able to get a spot without too many cars around. He pulled the popcorn bags and bars of chocolate he had brought out from the backseat and handed her a bottle of water.

“You thought of everything, didn’t you?” She said, accepting the bottle with a smile. “What’s the film?”

“The Birds,” he replied, “hope that’s okay. I love Hitchcock and assumed everyone does, but if it’s not your cup of tea we can go—“

She shook her head at him, fingers coming to grip his thigh in a way that set his skin on fire. “It’s perfect. Love this film—Dad and I watched it together years ago and I’ve been meaning to re-watch.”

Harry smiled at her, settling back into his seat. “Candy or popcorn?”

“Popcorn definitely,” she answered, taking the back he handed her. “What about you? Sweet or salty?”

“Depends on the sweet.” He raised the chocolate bar. “This, for instance, is an always. But something like Dum Dums? No thank you.”

“Who even eats Dum Dums?”

Harry chuckled. “Not me.”

Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and Harry went to fiddle with the radio, turning the channel to match the one for the film. “I’m glad you persuaded me to come,” she said softly, voice barely audible above the sound from the radio as the previews started. “Been a while since I went on a date.”

Harry looked at her in surprise. “I’m happy you came,” he replied. Clearing his throat, he continued, “truth be told, I wanted to ask you out the moment I saw you. Mainly just to get to know you better. I also, honestly, loved how comfortable you were in the music scene—a lot of girls I’ve dated in the past aren’t and it becomes an issue.”

“I get that,” she said. “It’s not the easiest for outsiders.” Before Harry could respond, the film started, and their attention was redirected to the massive screen in front of them.

Even though he was supposed to be watching the screen, his eyes kept flittering back to Y/N. Her side profile entranced him, the curl of her hair perfectly coiled—he wondered what products she used, maybe he should try them? Lou had been telling him to actually get a grip on his hair care routine, but most days lately he couldn’t be bothered. It’s not like he was doing press anyways. When Y/N gasped, hand reaching from the popcorn back to grip his thigh, he tensed and not from panic, but from desire. He wanted to kiss her lips, her lips with faded red lipstick from eating popcorn, her lips that curved up when she smiled and looked soft and utterly delicious.

When he saw she was fidgeting, not able to figure out where to place her legs, he snatched her ankles and dragged them over to his lap. It was a reflex and one that earned him a “What are you doing?” but when he started rubbing her calves in circles, a soft murmur left her mouth and she looked back to the film. Harry loved her feet in his lap, allowing him the ability to notice the daisy chain tattooed around her left ankle. A gasp tumbled into the car when he ran his finger along the skin, her eyes meeting his and suddenly the air in the car changed completely.

It was an hour into the film and other than brief conversation about the film, Y/N saying how much more fucked up it was than she remembered, it had been mostly silent. Harry wondered if she was as preoccupied with how much she wanted him as he was with how much he wanted her.

Then suddenly, her kicked off her boots so she was just in her socks, and with her eyes still on the screen, she rubbed her foot down on his dick. Harry let out a hiss, unable to process what was happening or the shiver that went up his back at the pressure. “Y/N,” he said in a warning. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” she said, innocent as hell except for the smirk on her lips.

“You little minx.” He tossed her boots into the backseat and tickled the bottom of her feet, the squeak that left her mouth allowing him to feel like he’d gotten some form of revenge. “Bored or something?”

Y/N giggled and the sound made Harry’s heart soar. “No, just interested in something else.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

Harry trailed his fingers up her leg slowly, basking in the soft moan that filled the car. “Y/N, I really want to kiss you,” he said, not even fearing her response to the words. She’d started it. He wanted to finish it.

Y/N looked back at him, eyes finally leaving the screen. “Then kiss me,” she said bluntly and Harry didn’t waste another second. He leaned over the center console and tugged Y/N to him with his fingers at the back of her neck and when their lips met Harry kicked himself for not doing this earlier. Her lips were soft, just like he’d thought, and salty from the popcorn, a butter sheen making them delectable. Her fingers wound through his hair, tugging gently, a hiss falling from his mouth and into hers. He ignored the crink in his neck from the position and instead focused on the way Y/N pressed soft kisses to the corners of his mouth. Her hand slid down his front, tucking her fingers between the buttons of his shirt, goosebumps raising on his skin.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, her name a plea and a question all in one. He didn’t want to overstep her boundaries, the memory of her rule—No musicians—echoing loudly in his brain. But he also wanted to kiss her until the end of time.

“Can you move your seat back?” She asked, brushing her thumb along his jaw. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, but he did as she asked. And then she swung her legs over the console, one knee on either side of his waist, and he understood. And he was not mad in the slightest.

Their lips reconnected as a scream came from the radio, but neither of them paid it any mind. The movie was a forgotten memory, their entire focus on where their lips met, nipped at one another, and battled for dominance. Y/N’s hands scrambled all over his body, curling into his button down and leaving wrinkles Harry didn’t give a fuck about. The way her fingernails dug into his skin through the fabric made him buck into her and he loved the gasp that left her mouth, the way her thighs tightened around his hips. He wanted to hear her sounds on an endless loop, noise cancelling headphones on and the world drowned out around him. All he wanted to hear, to see, to smell, was Y/N. The subtle, clean perfume she had put on, her lavender shampoo he could smell when he nestled his nose below her ear to lick her lobe, the faint scent of marijuana and Harry couldn’t help but wonder if she’d smoke with him sometime.

Harry squeezed her hips, ruching her shirt up so he could brush his fingers across her skin. A whine escaped her lips and he chased it with his lips, wanting to hear more. He licked into her mouth, their tongues meeting. Y/N sucked hesitantly on his tongue and he groaned, Y/N giggling against his lips at the sound. “You menace,” he said, kissing a line down the column of her neck. “Driving me mad.” He nipped at the skin at the base of her neck and Y/N’s fingers curled into his hair, holding him there as she bucked her hips against him.

Kissing Y/N was everything Harry had been dreaming about since he met her. He had had actual dreams of kissing her, of knowing what it felt like to touch her skin, of her running her fingers down his arms like she was doing right in that second. He had woken up wondering if her lips would taste as good as they did in his dreams. In reality, she tasted better than he could’ve ever imagined. Sweeter, like a dewy English morning.

“Harry,” Y/N said, pulling away slightly from him. He tried to chase her lips but she just giggled and shook her head.

“What? Miss your lips.” He pressed a litter of kisses across her cheeks and her jaw, earning him gasps until Y/N tugged his head back from her.

“The seat buckle,” her words breathless, “it’s digging into my knee.”

Harry looked down and found that it was, indeed, digging into her kneecap in a way that was most definitely not comfortable. “We, uh, could go in the backseat?” Her face was unreadable and panic seized him—had he crossed a line? “Or we can stop—either is fine with me, I just want to be around you, we don’t have to do anything more and we can stop what we’re doing, I don’t—“

She shushed him with a finger to his lips. “Can we just stop for right now? I…I don’t want to rush into anything.”

Harry nodded quickly, running his hand up her back, desperately wish he could touch her bare skin under her shirt. “Of course. Wanna sit in your seat?”

Y/N looked at her seat and then at him. “Um, not really.”

His eyebrows quirked in response.

“Can I sit with you?” Her voice was small, hesitant. This Y/N was so unlike the one he had met, the strong and fierce girl who told him no. Here, Y/N was cautious in a different way, wanting to make sure what she did was okay with him too, and it warmed his heart that she cared about making him comfortable in the same way he did.

“ Of course, love,” the pet name slipping from his lips without a second thought. “C’mere.” With some difficulty, they adjust so that he was holding her, reclining his chair back slightly. Her body curled up, head resting on his shoulder, legs hooked over his in the small space between his seat and the door. Harry held her knees so they didn’t slip with one hand, the other trailing up and down her back. Y/N’s fingers traced circles on his abdomen and Harry tried to restrain from moaning, but he could feel the singe of her touch through his shirt and it destroyed him. “That better?”

“Mhmm,” she answered, eyes on the movie. “You’re comfortable.”

Harry chuckled, loving the way her mouth curled upwards at her little joke. He loved the feeling of her body against him, her weight pressed into him. A calm washed over him that he hadn’t felt since he was in London. With lips pressed to her hair, he settled in to watch the rest of the film, deciding he wouldn’t move her unless she asked, no matter how much his thighs ached.

After the movie ended, they drove to get ice creams, Y/N running inside to grab them so they didn’t run the risk of anyone seeing Harry. He drove down I5 to get back to her apartment, the lights of the city passing by them as they drove. Y/N told Harry about her work, the recent projects she was on, her co-workers who she adored, especially Jamie, the other strategist on her level. Harry listened intently, wanting to absorb every piece of information she told him like he was going to be tested on it later.

As he pulled up to her building, Y/N leaned over and turned down the volume of the music that had been playing in the background. It was Harry’s driving playlist, a lovingly curated collection of his favorite songs, one that was always a test for him of a person’s musical likeness. Y/N bopped her head along to all of his favorites, softly singing the lyrics to The Chain, so she officially passed the test.

“I had fun tonight,” Y/N said, looking over at him.

Harry threw the car in park and met her eyes. “Me too.” He wanted to ask if he could take her out again, but he didn’t want to rush her—he’d promised to take it at her pace, and he would keep that promise.

Y/N picked at her fingernails, the blue varnish chipping at the tips. “Would you want to do this again?”

A grin crossed Harry’s face, his highest hope realized. “I’d love to. I’ll text you?” Y/N nodded, and Harry took her hand in his, raising it to his lips and pressing a delicate kiss to her knuckles. “Text me when you’re in, okay?”

Faster than he could process, Y/N leaned across the console and kissed him. A quick, albeit deep kiss to his lips that left his mind scrambling as she pulled away and opened the car door. Her top swished in the wind as she walked away from him, the light from the street-lamps illuminating her figure in the dark night. Harry watched as she walked away, fading from sight, The 1975’s Somebody Else coming on shuffle.

His phone illuminated with a text from her a beat later. Inside. Thanks for tonight! :)

I’m happy I could get a second date, he replied, trying to be funny. Can’t wait to see you again xx

She replied with a heart and Harry tried not to read too much into it as he drove away with the windows down, Matty Healy’s voice filling the night air.

It had been two weeks since Harry took Y/N to the drive in, and since then Y/N’s days had been filled with texts from Harry at all hours of the day. He would send her memes he found on Twitter or Instagram, sometimes a photo of his lunch for the day, and ask her about work. She’d send him a selfie of her work outfit when she was feeling particularly confident and he’s text back a heart eye emoji, and one night after a few glasses of wine they FaceTimed, both in their pajamas in bed. Those quiet, soft moments, were the ones that kept Y/N feeling close to Harry in between hours here and there watching films and making out on their respective couches.

Curled up on her couch, Harry holding her close, fingers threading through her hair as they watched The Good Place, Y/N couldn’t remember feeling this at ease this quickly with any other men she’d dated. But with Harry, she felt comfortable in her oversized sweatshirt and ratty sweatpants, hair tossed into a messy bun and her glasses perched on her nose, a glass of wine in her hand. There wasn’t a part of her who felt like she still had to impress him, he was just…Harry. And that was the part that scared her, because if she forgot about his job, about his popularity, did that mean she would let him get too close? She had made her rule for a reason, and this moment was a prime example of how important it was.

The episode ended, Netflix asking them if they were still watching, and Harry squeezed her shoulder. “Want some more?” He asked, nodding to her wine glass.

“Sure,” she answered, sitting up and handing it to him. “We might need to open a fresh bottle—there’s more—“

“In the pantry, I know,” he said, cutting her off with a smile. He’d spent many nights with her on this couch and at this point she didn’t need to tell him where the forks were or where here recycling bin was.

Y/N tugged the blanket around her shoulders, cold from Harry leaving, and pressed pause on the TV. “Another episode?”

“Obviously,” Harry responded from the kitchen. She rolled over so she could watch him prepare the wine glasses, the sight of him standing in her kitchen, opening the wine on her marble countertops made her stomach flutter with butterflies. Every day that passed made it harder to hold him at a distance. “Are you free on the 1st?” He asked out of nowhere, pouring the wine into their glasses.

“Not sure,” Y/N responded. “Why?”

Harry looked up at her with a devious smile, the one Y/N had grown to enjoy. “It’s my birthday. Having a party and I was hoping you’d come.”

The idea of being in a room full of Harry’s friends, most of whom she would’t know, made Y/N’s head spin. But then again, she thought to herself, it wouldn’t be much different from going to an industry function with her dad and she’d been doing that since she was in diapers. She could hold her own. And plus, it was Harry’s birthday and the prospect of seeing him drunk and happy and eating cake was worth some discomfort. “Sure.”

His face lit up, eyes sparkling under the low lights of her kitchen. “Brilliant. Can’t wait for you to meet everyone—you’ll love them.” He brought over the wine glasses, tugging her back into his chest, arms a secure safe haven. “Now press play, wanna see what Eleanor and Chidi get up to this time.”

“I just want them to get together already,” she said, pressing play and settling into him, her face on his chest.

“Mhm,” he agreed, fingers scratching her scalp in the way she loved, and she tried not to let her eyes drift shut to the sound of his heart beating and the TV going.

With a gin and tonic in her hand and a forced smile on her face, Y/N wove her way through the crowd, trying to find Harry. She didn’t want to seem desperate, but he was her safety blanket of sorts—she didn’t know any of these people. Harry seemed to run in different circles from her dad and the people she’d grown up around, and the prospect of having to be a leech to Harry all night wasn’t exactly comforting. She didn’t want to be that annoying new girl that he had to introduce to everyone.

But then she heard her name from somewhere around her and she knew immediately that it was him. “Y/N!” Her eyes swept around her surroundings until they fell on his smile. He had his hair pushed back by a pair of sunglasses—despite that it was dark out—and he was in a velvet top with a crewneck underneath it. It was impossible, she thought, not to notice how stunning he was. She also wondered how much effort it would take to get him to take that crewneck off, because after the other times he had worn an unbuttoned shirt around her she knew it was one of her favorite things for him to wear.

She decided she would ask him when she gave him his birthday present.

Cutting through the people around her, Excuse me and I’m sorrys falling from her lips as she made her way over to the birthday boy, Y/N considered what he would make of her gift. She’d thought about it long and hard, called her best friend Hanna and Jamie on FaceTime to make sure she wasn’t being too presumptuous, but they’d reassured her she was fine. Overdue, even.

“Happy Birthday,” she said when she reached him, his hand immediately slipping around her waist. From the gleam in his eyes, she assumed he was a few drinks in and she wondered what silly dance moves he would whip out tonight. He’d shown her some earlier in the week after she had made them dinner and he’d had her giggling in seconds.

Harry’s hand squeezed the flesh at her hip, sending tingles up her spine, his eyes not leaving hers. “Thank you, baby.” It was the first time he’d used the nickname and Y/N tried not to think about the way it made her heart constrict with desire. “You look gorgeous.”

Jamie and Hanna had persuaded her to wear the outfit, despite her fears it was too much, but with Harry’s eyes on her and the way his hand curved into her body, she decided it was the right move. The short skirt and knee high boots she had been wanting to break out for ages, a silver top tucked loosely into the waistband to emphasize the curve of her waist. “Thanks,” she replied. “Now you going to introduce me, or will I have to do that myself?”

Harry blinked and the man and woman he was talking to chuckled. Y/N was happy she had made a good first impression—maybe making a joke or two at Harry’s expense would be her ice breaker. Not too many to where it hurt him, but enough to show people that she didn’t care about his fame, that to her he was just Harry, the idiot who did the Macarena in her living room to ABBA. “Oh, this is Mitch and Sarah,” he said, “they’re in my band. Mitch, Sarah, this is Y/N.”

“Pleasure,” the woman said, reaching out to hug Y/N. The display of affection warmed Y/N—maybe she wouldn’t have to be alone all night. This woman, Sarah, seemed lovely, and if she was in Harry’s band then she’d probably be seeing more of her at some point. “Harry mentioned you the other day. Said you have a sweet little place in Atwater?”

“Yes!” Y/N replied, her neighborhood one of her favorite topics of discussion. “I love it—moved in right after I graduated and it’s been perfect.”

“And what do you do, Y/N?” Mitch asked, taking a sip of his beer in his hand.

“Brand strategy,” Harry answered for her. “She’s utterly brilliant at it too—Y/N can you tell them about the project you were talking about at dinner on Tuesday?”

His words caused Y/N to glance at him with shock. She’d never had a guy answer for her before, but she could tell it wasn’t from a place of Harry trying to speak over her, but a place of pride—and support. “Yeah—it’s for a new ethical clothing brand out of Seattle, they’re working on size-inclusive athletic attire for women. The models for the campaign are going to be super diverse and I’m really excited to see it in the industry, since it’s been few and far between, especially in the fitness space.”

Sarah nodded along and Y/N could tell that she got it. “I’d love to know the company—could you text it to me?”

Harry gave Y/N another squeeze and she swallowed the smile that threatened to stay plastered on her face if Harry did that one more time. “Sure thing.” Sarah typed her number into Y/N’s phone, a little sunflower next to her name that reminded Y/N of Harry. It felt good to have a connection to one of Harry’s friends, especially someone as lovely as Sarah seemed.

And Sarah didn’t disappoint. She made Y/N her pet project for the evening, taking over when Harry had to talk to someone, keeping Y/N entertained and introducing her to people. By the time she had finished her second drink, she fonud herself deep in a conversation about a new art exhibit downtown that Jamie had mentioned to her. The thought of Harry’s presence hadn’t even popped into her head and it was nice to be independent in the space, to hold her own in the crowd. She realized that she fit in with his friends, despite her fears.

Harry kept on coming over though, grabbing her hand and leading her to talk to someone he worked with or was close with or he thought she’d find interesting. He refilled their glasses when she asked and kept an arm wrapped around her waist, a smile beaming down at her that filled her with joy. To be so supported by a man she’d only been seeing for a matter of weeks felt unreal, but she wasn’t mad about it. The newest conversation was with an up and coming photographer who Harry had taken a liking to, Harry explained to her.

“And this is my girlfriend Y/N,” he said, gesturing to her.

The title of girlfriend almost passed her over completely, but when she processed it, it stopped her dead in her tracks. They hadn’t talked about titles, about officially being boyfriend and girlfriend, as silly as the term sounded. Every other time he’d introduced her , it was just Y/N, although she assumed the way he held her close probably gave away their relationship to anyone who had eyes. After all, it had only been a few weeks, so they were still infatuated with touching one another. Y/N couldn’t keep her hands off of him either, fingers slipping into a belt loop absentmindedly or creeping up his back and rubbing circles there while he talked.

And maybe it was for those reasons that the word girlfriend didn’t affect her as much as she expected it to. It felt somewhat right, even, she thought. It wasn’t like she particularly wanted to be seeing anyone else, after all—Harry had swooped into her life and she’d become obsessed with spending time with him, despite her rule and her objections to the idea of him. He had shocked her with his charm and honesty and intellect, the way he listened to her and asked her questions, how he held her close and murmured his commentary to films in her ear, willing to jump up and get her ice cream anytime she asked. Even though he was the definition of the man she had always promised herself she would never date, the idea of ending things made her recoil.

So she let the term slide. She smiled and shook the man’s hand, listening intently to him describe his newest exhibition and tucked his business card into her purse when he handed it to her. Later, she told herself. She’d talk to Harry later.

She cheered when Harry blew out the birthday candles on his cake, laughing along with everyone else when James Corden tried to shove his face into the cake. When Harry kissed the top of her head chastely, lips sweet with icing, she reveled in the moment, taking a bite of her own slice. It was late and she was getting tired and she desperately wanted to give Harry his gift with the more time that passed and the more messy his curls got and the more drinks she had. And then Harry started dancing with Sarah and James and a dozen other people, and suddenly he was dragging her onto the dance floor, holding her close and shimmying his hips along to Ariana Grande with her. Her head tipped back and a laugh rang through the night and she decided there was simply no way she could break it off. Harry had proved her wrong and she was going to let him continue.

Their kisses were heavy when they stumbled into Y/N’s apartment, the door slamming shut behind them. It was after midnight and they were both quite tipsy, maybe even drunk. Harry more so than her, but not to the point where he couldn’t tell her how everything she did made him feel.

“Your lips are heaven,” he said, pressing a line down her throat with her pressed up against the door. “How are they so soft? Do you have some special scrub or somethin’?”

“It’s from fresh,” she answered. “Fuck, Harry.” His hand had wrapped around her thigh and tugged it up around his hip so that he could press himself into her center and the friction had her sweating. The combination of his weight against hers and the wetness of his tongue on her collarbones as he sucked a kiss into her skin left her squirming in his hold, hands gripping his coat tightly in her hands. “Get this off,” she said, pushing at his coat.

“Bossy,” he chuckled, shrugging it off, the material falling to the ground. “Want me out of anything else, ma’am?”

Mischief twinkled in his eyes and Y/N wanted him completely naked, but that was a bit much for the entryway to her apartment. “Shirt.”

He unbuttoned his velvet shirt, pulling it off, but Y/N caught it in her hands. He looked at her quizzically, trying to understand what she was doing.

“Want this on,” she explained, holding up the velvet top. “And that one off.” Her fingers pulled at the neck of his crewneck and Harry’s eyes trailed to her fingers and then back to her face.

“I like your brain,” he said simply. And then complied with her request, crewneck over his head and on the ground. Y/N’s fingers were on his chest immediately, drawing patterns over his tattoos that she knew were there from seeing him in tank tops and thin t-shirts, but it was another thing entirely to be able to touch the ink on his body.

When he tugged on his velvet shirt, Y/N smiled, touching the fabric. “Should’ve just worn this.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Her hands slid under the material, desperate to touch him again.

“I’ll make sure to get your approval next time.”

“Good.” Then, she pulled his lips back to hers, the touch of his mouth on hers leaving her humming. He ate it up, tongue licking into her mouth, the taste of tequila and cake filling her senses. His hand drifted up her side, squeezing the skin next to her breasts. She knew what he wanted and she didn’t want to say no to him. “Bedroom?”

Harry’s eyes widened, dropping to her lips and then back up to her eyes. “You sure?”

“Positive,” she answered. Then, she leaned in so she could whisper in his ear, “I have a present to give you.”

With that information, Harry swept her up in his arms, ignoring her pleas for him to set her down, and carried her into the bedroom. Dropping her onto the duvet, he crawled up her body like a cat, head nuzzling into her skin in a way that was so sweet Y/N didn’t know what to do with herself. “I want my present,” Harry mumbled. “What do I have to unwrap, baby?”

Y/N mewled at the last word of his sentence and he winked at her. Baby. “You said that earlier.”

He lifted his head and looked at her. “And?”

A smile wormed its way onto her face. “I like it.”

“Good,” he said, tucking his face back into her body, blowing hot air over her breasts. She could feel the sensation through the fabric of her top and it tightened her nipples, begging for more. “You like anything else I said tonight?”

“Hmm?”

“When we were talking to Eric,” he said, not meeting her eyes, instead pressing wet kisses down her tummy, rucking the hem of the fabric up slightly so he could touch her skin. “Called you something.”

Girlfriend. She knew where he was going and she couldn’t help but chuckle at his coyness. “I caught that.”

He licked into her bellybutton, a yelp escaping her mouth at the sensation. “Thoughts?”

“Can you take my shirt off already, boyfriend?” She didn’t even pause—she’d thought about it for the rest of the night, toying with the terms. The time had allowed her to process and now she knew what she wanted—she wanted him. She’d figure the rest of it out later, but first she wanted him.

Finally, Harry met her eyes. His face was illuminated by the light from her bedside table lamp, the soft glow showing the light tan to his skin, his green eyes popping up to hers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He kissed the soft skin above her belly button. “We’ll talk more about it later. But first, I want to see you.” Y/N leaned up and helped him take her shirt off, then shimmy the skirt down her hips. She kicked her boots off somewhere in the process. Lying in just her underwear for him, she tried not to squirm under his gaze as he took inventory of every inch of her exposed skin. “Beautiful,” he finally breathed out, eyes glassy and lips wet. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Your turn,” she said, tugging at his pants. “Get out of these.”

“Give me a second, Jesus woman,” he said, batting her hands away so he could get the button undone. The jeans were tight, which Y/N didn’t hesitate to make fun of him for, and Harry just rolled his eyes at her. “You love them,” he countered and he wasn’t wrong. When he hovered over her in just his boxers, Y/N decided he was positively delectable. Her hands pushed off his top that he had kept on just for her, the fabric falling somewhere on her floor.

“Roll over,” she directed, pushing at his torso so he would lay down in the space next to her.

He was compliant, completely under her spell. In just their underwear, there was far more skin to explore and Y/N planning to take advantage of her opportunity. She ran her hands over his skin, every tattoo earning a kiss from her lips, mumbling how pretty he was as she went down his body. It was like a map, and a map she wanted to know by heart. When he bucked into her core, Y/N smirked at him, Harry groaning as she ignored what he needed.

“Quite bossy, aren’t you?”

“It’s my birthday present, ain’t it?”

Y/N pressed a finger to his lips, hushing him as she had before and yet again, it worked. “Haven’t even told you what it is.” Clamoring off his body, she made her way lower, resting next to his knees. She brushed a finger over the outline of him in his boxer, a guttural moan filling the room at her touch. “That’s your birthday gift,” she told him, words falling soft in the space around them.

“Yeah?” He choked out as she gripped him harder through his boxers. “Please, Y/N, please.” His begs did something to her, his desperation pulling the same from her. She wanted to touch him, to have him in her mouth, to know how he tasted.

Her fingers pulled at his boxers, tugging them down his long legs and letting them fall to the end of her bed. His cock sprung up against his belly, hard and heavy, the tip pink from his desire. “Needy, hm?” Y/N didn’t usually do dirty talk, but with Harry it just fell from her mouth without another thought. The comfort of being with him made her usual worries about what she said collapse, her only thought his pleasure. “What do you want, baby?”

The pet name seemed to do something special to him because he bucked up into the air with a hiss. “Hands. Mouth. Anything.”

Y/N could do anything. She slid back into the spot between his legs and licked a solid stripe up the underside of him, the growl that left his mouth music to her ears. Taking the tip into her mouth she bobbed down as far as she could—she wanted to surprise him, start strong. None of this slow and steady crap. She wanted Harry to know how good she was, how good she could make him feel. She wanted to rock his fucking world.

And she did. She built a steady tempo, taking what she couldn’t fit in her mouth in her hands, rubbing him up and down, the slick of her saliva making the work easy. Harry’s hand found her hair, thumbing through it to keep it out of her face, the sweet motion making her heart sing. Every once in a while she would push down so that he hit the back of her throat and keep him there as long as she could, inhaling through her nose, the choked groan from his chest making the feeling worth it. When his hips popped up, his tip pressing deeper, she let him do it, loving the feeling of him in her mouth. She loved the moans filling the air and the way he rasped her name like the chorus to his favorite song, how he tugged on her hair and wound the strands between his fingers.

She decided that going down on him was her new favorite past time. She would make it a fucking national sport if that meant she could do it every day, because seeing him falling apart from her and her alone brought her a kind of gratification she had never felt.

“Close?” Her words pulled him from a daze, tongue darting over his lower lip.

“Yeah.”

That made Y/N double down her efforts. She wanted him to cum, she wanted it so badly she felt it in every bone of her body. “Want you to come,” she mumbled against him, the vibrations of her voice sending shocks through his body. “Come for me, H.”

He gasped, bucking into her mouth. “You—your mouth? I—“

“Come for me, baby,” her voice a beg, a plea. She wanted to taste him, to know how what he tasted like, to kiss him with the taste still lingering on her tongue.

When he came, she had to wonder if this was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The way he tossed his head back, mouth in a silent scream as he emptied into her mouth. He held her head in place lightly, just enough so there was weight but not too much where she couldn’t move, his other hand gripping the duvet cover in a tight grip. And his taste—he tasted a bit salty, but she didn’t mind. It was tangy, a taste that was him, and she loved it. She held him there on her tongue until he stopped, the ropes of his orgasm stopping finally, and she slipped him from her mouth. As he settled, his chest rose and fell quickly, regaining his breath.

She pressed her head to his thigh, out of breath too, her eyes on him. Watching him regain composure was a sight she would dream of, his hair scattered across her pillow in disarray, the flush to his cheeks, the pants from his parted lips.

“C’mere,” he finally said, voice raw. “Want a kiss.”

Y/N didn’t make him wait. She crawled up his body, legs on either side of his stomach and pressed her lips to his. The idea of him tasting himself on her tongue made her hot, her center clenching, but it was all about Harry tonight. “Happy Birthday,” she mumbled against his lips and he chuckled. “Hope it was a good one.”

“Best one yet,” he told her, smoothing her hair behind her ear. “Tired?”

She nodded, face held in his hands. “Stay?”

Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to her nose. “Course. Got an extra toothbrush?”

In the morning, she woke up in his embrace, arms curled tightly around her frame. He’d kicked some of the covers off overnight, but thankfully he was as hot as a furnace so she wasn’t cold. Without even thinking about it, she cuddled against his chest, shutting her eyes to hold onto the moment a little longer.

“I know you’re awake,” he whispered and Y/N rolled her eyes at him.

Turning over so she could see his face, she murmured, “Sleep well?”

“Perfectly,” he answered. “These sheets are cozy.”

“Target.”

“Huh. Maybe I’ll have to get some.”

She chuckled, pressing her face into his chest. “I don’t wanna get up.”

“Then don’t,” he replied, brushing her hair back. “Wanted to talk to you, though.”

“Hmm?” Her eyes were closed against his skin and it was blissful. He smelled like sweat and his cologne and the distinct smell of Harry, a scent she was quickly growing to adore.

Tucking a leg between hers, he said, “This is a busy year for me. The album’s coming out in May, then Dunkirk in July, then tour in the fall. And I know that you don’t want to date a musician and I know it’s early days, but I—I can’t imagine losing you, you know? So I want to have a plan for how we’re going to do it. Cuz it won’t be easy.”

Y/N looked up at him, the morning sunlight hitting his cheekbones perfectly. “The fact that you even want to have that conversation means so much.” Her words were honest—they showed he cared. He wanted to try, to make it work. “Let’s figure out the specifics when it comes time for that, but for now you’ll be here, yeah?” He nodded and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Let’s make a promise to each other. We talk. All the time about everything and anything. Don’t bottle it up, just share what’s going on in your head. I think that’ll make it somewhat easier. And we visit as much as we can.”

Harry’s fingers ran across the bridge of her nose and then up, a line across the tops of her eyebrows. “I like that.”

“But it’s a continuing conversation, okay?” She added, wanting to make sure this was clear. “We have to keep talking about it, even though it’s harder than it is to ignore it.” It was something she knew from watching her dad over the years and from her own relationship with him. Once she told him that he was gone too much, that she wanted him home, he made it happen. He prioritized her, she just had to remind him that she wanted him there.

“Okay.” Harry kissed her forehead, and then across her cheeks, soft kisses pressed to her skin that left her in giggles. “Now let’s eat something—I’m starved.” Y/N groaned, but let him pull her out of bed. They brushed their teeth together, him pressing toothpaste kisses to her lips, and she let him use her face wash and moisturizer. It was perfect, and for that moment, Y/N’s worries of the future fell away and she hoped she could hold them off. At least for a while.

TAGLIST

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outerspaceisbetterthannothing · 6 years

Text

Stuck with me [Ashton Irwin] Ch.1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Summary: Can a sudden meeting really change your life for the better? Or will it be just another mistake they made?

A/N: okay, so this wasn’t planned at all and I blame Aria @paqueretteash for getting me in my Ashton mood. But I really really like where this is going so far. Also the last album by The Neighbourhood was a big inspo, so you can def use “24/7”, “Scary love” and “Stuck with me” for the atmosphere. The feedback is extremely appreciated. Enjoy

Warnings: none, apart from couple of curse word probs

Chapter 1

Early spring breeze was life saving. Ashton took a deep breath of fresh air and suddenly realised that he didn’t want to get back inside that club. It was just another, quite usual night they were spending out after a studio day. He didn’t even care anymore whose idea it was to go to the club or what party they were at or what were celebrating. He stopped keeping track of that just like he stopped keeping track of time. It was definitely much easier this way. And much safer too.

His phone vibrated in his back pocket. He considered the idea of picking up, he really did. But then he just decided not to. The night was so wonderful he basically didn’t need anything more right now. Or anybody for that matter.

Ashton looked back at the club entrance. Music was blasting, a line of drunk and high people waiting for their chance to get more drunk and high. What was he even doing there?

He shook his head answering his own thoughts, crossed the road and just walked down the street. He wasn’t going to walk the whole way back to his house, just wanted to spend some time outside before calling an Uber. So he just walked, down the street and then around the corner and down another street full of other clubs and bars. He was passing some people here and there, lonely or in small groups, happy or sad, couple girls even crying. Everybody’s searching for something on the night streets of LA. And no one's caring for him. It was so peaceful like that, no friends around, no fans screaming and taking numerous photos, nothing and no one to distract him.

Ashton didn’t know, how much time he spent like that. But one moment everything somehow changed. He just felt that strange urge inside of him, he stopped and looked at the other side of the road. She was there. A young girl, she was sitting on the sidewalk not far from some bar’s entrance. Her dress was ripped at the hem, at least he thought it was ripped. Maybe it was just some strange fashion or something. But her shoulders were definitely shaking and she was wiping her cheeks, so she was obviously crying. Ashton looked both sides of the road and crossed the street.

Trying not to question his own motives, he came up to the girl and sat down next to her. He could hear her sobbing while walking towards her, but the moment she noticed him, all the sounds stopped.

She looked at him warily and tried to move away.

“Do you, maybe, need help?” Ashton asked in a soft tone, understanding with delay that he had probably scared her.

“Do I look like I need help?” she answered, her voice is still wary and her eyes not leaving his face for a moment.

Ashton laughed at that and looked at her. Suspicion was still all over her face, but behind it Ashton could see anger and… despair?

“Frankly, yes,” he admitted. “You look exactly like you need help.”

She just shrugged and looked away.

“Not like it’s any of your business.”

“True,” Ashton agreed easily. “But what if I still can help you?”

She sighed and asked in an extremely tired voice, “Seriously, dude, what do you want from me? I’m not in a mood to be picked up tonight. And so you know, in case you have anything on your mind, my friends are about to walk out of that bar and I also can scream very loudly.”

“I’ll take that into consideration if I decide to rape or kidnap you, thanks,” Ashton chuckled.

“You must think you’re so funny.”

“Actually, I know I’m funny. From time to time I can even be hilarious,” Ashton agreed, taking his phone out of his jeans pocket. “And in case you ever meet real maniac or rapist on the street so late at night, consider being a little more convincing.”

“The hell are you-”

“You’re sitting on a pavement and crying at almost two in the morning, while your friends are drinking inside?” he pointed out, all the amuse gone. “You either have the shittiest taste in friends, or there are no friends of yours in that bar,” he stated unapologetically, watching her eyes filling with tears. “And judging by your expression, the second option is closer to the truth.”

“Fuck you!”

She didn’t let him say anything in return. The next thing Ashton knew was her walking away fast and him still sitting on a pavement. He jumped up and rushed after her.

“Hey, I’m sorry, okay! Didn’t mean it wrong,” he tried to make her if not stop, then at least slow down. “Just let me help you, okay?”

But she just dropped over her shoulder, “Don’t need your help.”

Ashton sighed and hurried in an attempt to catch up with her, which wasn’t so difficult thanks to height difference.

“Okay, I got it. But let me just order you an Uber, please?”

At this she immediately stopped, eyes glued to the pavement under her feet and arms tight around her shoulders. Ashton took it as a positive sign. He switched his phone on and tapped at an Uber logo.

“Seriously, it’s going to be like the fastest way to get rid of me,” he chuckled again, looking at her and trying to read her face. “Just tell me the address. I promise I won’t follow you like some kind of lunatic.”

But she just stood there, looking at the ground and keeping silence. Ashton’s smile dropped. He basically understood nothing. What did that mean? And then he saw tears streaming down her cheeks, her shoulders started shaking again. Ashton raised a hand to her arm, but then hesitated for a moment. Could he touch her? Would she let him? What if not?

But then she started going down back on her knees, and he forgot all his questions. He grabbed her, preventing her from falling and pulled into his chest, holding her tightly and feeling her shoulders shake in silent sobs. So they stood like that, she was crying her heart out and he was just holding her, a girl he knew nothing about, not even a name.

Soon the tears ended and she pulled away, wiping her cheeks again.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. “And sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Ashton assured her, feeling wet spots from her tears on his shirt get cold from the breeze. “So, after I haven’t killed you in so long, would you let me order you a taxi?”

She looked at him with wide eyes, obviously astonished by his ability to joke at such a moment, but then to their mutual surprise she snorted. And then she shook her head and looked away.

“I’m afraid that’d be a problem,” she explained.

Ashton frowned, “Why is that?”

She took a deep breath, suppressing new wave of tears and answered, “Because I have nowhere to go.”

Ashton sighed too, mirroring her, and went back to the Uber app.

“What are you doing?” she asked, watching his manipulations, the wary expression back on her face.

“Getting an Uber,” he explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“To where?”

“To my place.” Ashton finished placing an order, switched the screen off and looked up at her.

“And you expect me to go with you?” she asked, taken aback by his bold move.

“Yes, I do. Unless spending nights on the street is some kind of hobby of yours,” Ashton snapped back suddenly feeling irritated. He just wanted to help. Was it so difficult to comprehend? Or so difficult to accept?

“I can’t go with you!” she stated stubbornly, her look at the ground again.

“And why is that?” he asked, his body started to feel tired and numb.

“I don’t even know your name!”

“It’s Ashton. And if I wanted to kill you or something, I’d already do it.”

“Oh, thank you, now I feel much safer!” she snarled.

“You also know that I’m a funny type of guy. People often know less about each other before one night stands, so if I were you, I wouldn’t be so picky.”

“But you don’t even know my name!” she exclaimed as in the last attempt to find any valid reason for it to be a bad idea.

Ashton at the same time was just standing there, looking at her and loosing in the battle of trying to hide his smile. A car stopped right behind his back. His phone clicked, signaling that was their car.

“What’s your name?” he asked, smile still on his face.

Her shoulders went down. “It’s Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Ashton chuckled, opened car’s door and waved his hand, inviting her. “Now, shall we?”

But she stood there still and kept watching him.

“I promise, in the morning you can go wherever you want and I won’t try to stop you. But now, please, get in the damn car.”

Ashton knew he probably pushed too much, hard expression on his face and ice in his tone. But he was tired from both the long day before and their ridiculous conversation. He just needed her to get into that car and go home and fall asleep. And maybe deal with it in the morning. Or maybe not. Whatever. Now he just needed her to do as he told and he didn’t give a fuck if he could scare her off. But unexpectedly, that was exactly what finally set her in motion.

She threw him another angry look and dived into the darkness of a taxi backseat without any other word. Ashton followed suit, thinking what a crazy night it happened to be and wondering what waited for them in the morning.

He looked at her face, flashes of street lamps lighting it up every couple of seconds.

What a crazy night…

***

The house was dark and empty. Nothing new.

Aston suppressed another sigh and moved toward the kitchen. He dropped his keys on a kitchen island and opened the fridge. He couldn’t hear her steps, her flats producing no sound at all, but somehow he knew, she was behind him. He could feel her eyes burn a hole in his head.

“Want anything?” he asked, grabbing a bottle of water.

He looked back when didn’t hear her answer, wondering if his feelings played tricks on him. But no, there she stood, right next to the kitchen island, looking around utterly surprised and obviously feeling like a fish out of water. Ashton followed her look and chuckled. He also asked himself sometimes why he’d need such a big house.

She looked at him slightly scared by the sound of his laugh.

“No, thanks,” she answered, shivering under his look.

Ashton shrugged, closed the fridge and motioned her to follow him, “Let’s go then.”

They crossed spacious living room, went up the stairs. One of the guest rooms was right next to the stairs, but under some impulse Ashton passed it, heading further. He opened the last door in the corridor and wanted to turn on the light, but stopped himself the last moment. As if light could ruin something. As if there was anything left to ruin in this house.

“You can stay here,” he mumbled, letting her come inside. “There’s a shower there,” he pointed to the bathroom door and looked again at her. She was looking back at him, wide-eyed like she was still surprised by his acting. She moved past him and looked around the room, feeling natural in the dark just like him. The hem of her dress, still a question for Ashton, brought an idea.

“You need something to change in, hold on a moment,” he said, leaving the room abruptly.

“Like I have a place to run to…” he heard her whisper back in the room and smiled. There was something endearing in her gloomy sarcastic remark.

He was back in no time, handing her his sweats and some band tee. And earning another exasperated look. Ashton felt his shoulders sink. He already opened his mouth to say that it was just clothes, nothing much. And that it was only natural to have a shower after sitting on a dusty pavement for God knows how long. And that she doesn’t need to be afraid of him doing something inappropriate if she steps into the shower in his house. And even that he didn’t really want her to sleep in one of his beds in a dirty dress, even if he wasn’t the one to clean the bed later. He really wanted to tell her off, but then he decided to keep it to himself. Just because she was standing there in the darkness of his guest bedroom and Aston suddenly realized how tiny she was. She was lost, all alone in the city, God knows what shit she had in her life if she had nowhere to go to in the middle of a night. And she was in the house of a guy she’s never seen before. She definitely deserved a medal for not combusting that very moment because of everything happening around her. Ashton stepped forward, trying not to come too close to her. He put his clothes on the bed and took couple steps back to the door.

“I’ll just leave it here. You can use it if you want. Or not, it’s up to you.”

She didn’t say anything in return, not a single gesture could prove that she even heard him.

“If you need anything or decide to kill me in my sleep, my room is opposite to yours,” he jokingly informed.

But no answer again. She was standing there, watching his every move, but producing no reactions.

So Ashton found nothing better than to leave without any other word.

He closed her door behind him and in one big step crossed the corridor, diving in the serenity of his own bedroom. He fell on the bed, carefully made by his housekeeper after he left in the morning, and heard the muted sound of the shower in her bedroom.

He couldn’t help his smile and finally relaxed, falling asleep faster than ever.

***

Y/N opened her eyes lazily. Her head hurt a little, no surprise after everything she’d drunk last night. Dim morning light crept up the duvet, the bed too comfortable to think of leaving it. Strange, but it was strikingly more comfortable than usual.

She sat up harshly and looked around an unknown bedroom. The memories of last night coming to her in waves, making everything so clear and so scary.

She creeped out of bed and looked at her dress in hesitation. The dress was dirty, ripped at the hem, and what was even worse, it was his favourite dress. She didn’t want to put it on at all. Y/N went to the bathroom and inspected herself in the mirror. Her flats would look really odd with that guy’s sweats. Could she just sneak out in these clothes? Not like that dude could miss them, judging by this house, he could afford a ton of such sweats and tees. But still, they weren’t hers to take. Y/N sighed heavily, washed her face and changed back in her dress. She felt awful, dirty, used and betrayed. But all of this was better than stealing. No matter what happened to her (and what was about to happen), she still had some dignity left.

She looked out of a huge window, trying to understand what time it was. She couldn’t remember, where she left her phone, and there was no clock in this bedroom. But the sky wasn’t of much help, all grey and gloomy it hid the sun from her eyes.

She folded the clothes she’d slept in neatly and left it on the cover of freshly made bed. Then she opened the door, noticing that her hands were shaking slightly and went downstairs.

Y/N couldn’t understand why she was so nervous. Half of her was praying for the owner of the house to still be asleep, so she could just go away never to remember him again. Half of her wanted to see him again. Look in his eyes in the daylight and maybe even thank him for his kindness.

First she heard the sound of something being fried. Then she saw him, with his back to her. Ashton was cooking breakfast for himself, oblivious to the fact that there was an audience. He was in a pair of sweats matching ones he'd given her and a plain black tee. She could hear him humming some melody but she didn't recognize the song. Y/N took couple more steps forward and tried to think of what to say to attract his attention, but her brain was empty. And normal phrases seemed too awkward.

“How did you sleep?” Ashton asked not looking at her. He didn't even move his head a little to catch a glimpse of her standing there. Everything about him was strange.

“How did you know I was here?” Y/N asked.

Now he looked over his shoulder, smile on his face.

“Your sight can burn holes in the walls. Kinda difficult not to notice you,” he chuckled. “So how did you sleep?”

He switched the stove off and opened a cupboard in search for a plate.

“Okay, thank you,” Y/N answered. “And thank you for letting me stay the night, but I have to go, so…”

Ashton put two plates on the counter.

“Won't stay for breakfast?”

Y/N looked at him with the same astonishment in her eyes as she did the previous night. She literally couldn't wrap her head around this man's actions.

“I've here toasts and omelette with some veggies. And there's some pretty good coffee. I'm sure you could use some after last night,” and he winked, putting a plate with food in front of her and turning on the coffee machine.

“So it's bed and breakfast?” she couldn’t help but snort.

“Don't get me wrong, I don't usually cook for girls in the morning. Just made too much for one this time.”

“That's exactly what I thought,” Y/N nodded but didn't move closer.

Ashton shrugged. “Come on, we both survived last night, which proves that no one's a maniac here. Doesn't it give us a right to enjoy some breakfast?” he waved to the chair. “Please?”

Y/N didn't want to stay. It was difficult to explain, just an odd feeling in the back of her mind. She knew the longer she stayed, the harder it was gonna be for her to leave. But she was hungry, and coffee smelled heavenly.

So she gave in and sat at the table.

“Black coffee? Or with milk?” Ashton asked, satisfied with her decision.

“With milk,”she answered, still looking shy and a little confused. “And sugar if you have it.”

Ashton chuckled on her choice and put everything on the kitchen island in front of her. Y/N hummed a thank you, fetched herself a cup of coffee and picked up a fork. She took a first bite under his stare.

“That’s very good,” she said, figuring he was waiting for her reaction.

Ashton nodded but didn’t look away from her as he didn’t touch his breakfast either.

“So, what exactly happened to you?” he asked a moment later, making it difficult for her not to groan out loud. That was so predictable, and so off the point. She should have just gone when she had a chance. Now he would ask her about all that shit, making her re-live all of it while telling him. And then he would give her some ass awful advice only a well-off person could give to somebody from absolutely different social level. And then they part. He would just go on with his day feeling totally satisfied with how he helped her and showed her the way out (which she, of course, had gladly taken). While she would just feel even shittier than before and with the same problems and no idea what to do.

“I mean, I know it’s not really my business,” Ashton admitted as there was only one way to interpreter her silence.

“It’s not,” she agreed, still looking at the plate in front of her.

“But you know, sometimes you just need to speak about it out loud to make it all a little better.”

She let a humorless laugh and looked up at him to note, that saying it all out loud won’t do her any good. But the look in his eyes stopped her the very moment. The was no patronizing in his eyes, no smug superiority. His look was calming and soft and warm. She couldn’t help but blurt, “I broke up with my boyfriend.”

He nodded, “I’m sorry.”

She looked back at her plate and took a coffee cup, starting to twist it nervously on the table surface. “That’s okay, I suppose. Not like he ended up being a good guy after all.”

“Still a shitty situation.”

She didn’t say anything in reply. Shitty didn’t even start to describe all of it.

“So you lived with him?” Ashton asked again. “That’s why you said you had nowhere to go?”

Y/N nodded again.

“Why not go crash at one of your friends’?” he frowned.

Y/N smiled and shook her head. “It’s all very complicated, Ashton,” she noted quietly and switched her attention back to her omelette. She was very hungry after all.

Ashton also picked up his fork and for several minutes it was just them eating breakfast.

“How old are you?” he asked, trying again to make this conversation work.

“Nineteen.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you go back to your parents then?”

“You’re not gonna give up that easily, aren’t you?” she asked not sure to get pissed or amused over his persistence.

“Nope, that’s just not me,” he shook his head smiling.

And suddenly, just from the look of his smile, Y/N started sobbing. She lowered her eyes, hid her face in her hands in an attempt to calm herself down. She heard the fridge door open and close the moment later, and then he put something in front of her. She moved her hands to be able to look. He put a chocolate mousse next to her plate and a spoon. She sniffed one last time and looked at him quizzically.

Ashton shrugged, “You can’t really cry while eating a chocolate mousse.”

She snorted. “Wanna bet?”

But then she took a spoon, opened mousse and dig into it.

“So, I’ve met Josh last spring. We with my two best friend were at some college party, and he was there too,” she looked up at Ashton again. He looked taken aback by her consent to speak after all. “Josh is my, well, now definitely ex-boyfriend,” she explained.

“I figured,” he nodded, finally sitting down.

“So, he was there. And it was like, I don’t know, love at first sight. I left that party with him, even though I was never that kind of girl. But I could never say no to him. Guess that’s what got me here,” she chuckled. “We didn’t even do anything that night, just drove around my neighbourhood till the sunrise. I was crazy about him. He was all I could think or speak about. Which really pissed all of my friends, they never liked him. But it was spring, we were finishing school and they found it in them to bear with me.”

She took another spoon of mousse, making a short pause in her story. She wasn’t looking at Ashton while speaking, but could feel him looking at her face intensely.

“He was all the live-free kind of man. I saw he was a definition of trouble as people like my father would say. Maybe that was exactly what tempted me so much. I was about to go to Berkeley, study law, had all this life plan my dad made up for me. But Josh though it was stupid. Education is a waste of time, especially law school,” she shrugged. “Spend years learning Latin to become a part of the system which oppresses people. We were spending nights on the beach watching stars and that was honestly the only life I wanted to have in the future. All dreams of successful career lost. So you can imagine the reaction of my Dad, when I said I wasn’t going to Berkeley. We had a huge fight at home. And we didn’t use to fight with my Dad at all,” she paused again, finishing her mousse. “I just packed some clothes and went to Josh. He said I did the right thing. Dad tried to reach me, but I was too stubborn to listen to him. And I was eighteen already, so he didn’t have any legal way to bring me back home.”

She shrugged again, turning back to what was left of her omelette.

“That’s even tastier after mousse,” Y/N said couple moments after that.

Ashton chuckled. “I should include it in the recipe.”

He watched her eat for some time more, before asking, “Why didn’t you go to one of your friends?”

She sighed with a mouthful of omelette.

“Well, they were all pretty much against me moving in with Josh and not going to college. And they expressed their opinion straight, so I kinda broke all the ties,” she shrugged. “They are all in colleges around the country now, anyway.”

Ashton rubbed his chin getting deep in his thoughts. She finished her omelette and looked at him again with a shy smile.

“What are you gonna do now?” he asked.

Y/N shrugged, drinking her coffee in silence.

“I still need to get back to Josh’s place to get my stuff. Hope he at least grabbed my purse and my phone yesterday,” she mused out loud.

“You gonna stay with him?” he asked again in the same serious tone.

She frowned. “God, no, of course no,” she shook her head. “Not after what happened yesterday.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Ashton kept pushing her.

She sighed. Looked up at him again. They both understood it at the same moment. She had not a slightest idea what to do. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“You can live here,” he offered carefully.

“Thanks, but no,” she replied even before he finished his sentence.

“Why the fuck no?” Ashton chuckled in disbelief. He was more than prepared for her reaction, knowing couple of things about her already, but it still amused him. “Not like you’ve got much of a choice!”

“Yes, thank you for reminding,” she growled back and hid her face in her hands again.

“Listen, you don’t wanna get back to your dickhead boyfriend. And you’re not ready to get back to your Dad, and have no other relatives and friends as I understood,” he listed, looking at her. “And I can definitely spare a room.”

“Since when is it a reason?” she mumbled from behind her hands.

“Since I wanna help.”

She took a deep breath, put her hands down on her lap and said, “Thank you for that, but I can’t just start living with a guy I met less than twelve hours ago.”

“I’m not asking you to live with me. I’m offering you a position of a roommate!”

Y/N raised her eyebrow. “A roommate?” she repeated skeptically. Ashton nodded, his face lit up with a hint of a smile. “Not sure if I can afford half of the rent,” she mumbled, looking around his place.

“We can call it a deal with a delayed payment,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

She shook her head in disbelief. “Okay, but i still can’t do that.”

“Why?” Ashton uttered.

“Because you’re obviously crazy!”

“I’m not crazy,” he stated in a much calmer voice. “But I have a younger sister. She’s couple years younger than you and also extremely stubborn. I wanna believe that if she’s ever ends up at a situation like this,which I hope she wouldn’t, there’ll be somebody to look after her.”

“I’m not stubborn,” she almost pouted. Ashton gave her a look, but didn’t say anything about it. They just sat there glaring at each other, she was not ready to give in, he was not ready to give up.

“Just for a while,” Ashton almost pleaded couple minutes later. “Just till you understand what to do next and get your act together again.”

But Y/N kept staring at him in her silent thinking.

“For a couple of days at least?” Ashton wasn’t ashamed of the begging tone anymore. He had to make her stay. He didn’t really understand why. She was right about everything, they were just two strangers, shouldn’t have cared for each other, and he did act like a crazy guy. But he had to make her stay. That much he knew for sure. “I won’t forgive myself if I let you go and then find out something bad happened to you.”

And with that she sank on the table. “Okay,” he heard her muted groan.

“Okay?” Ashton asked not fully ready to believe his victory.

“Okay,” Y/N repeated, moving up. “But only for couple of days. And only as a roommate,” she added rather awkwardly.

Ashton snorted, “And about that you shouldn’t be worried at all.”

Y/N made a face, while Ashton took their plates and put them into the sink. He rushed in the living room then, put on a black hoodie with a roman numeral three and picked up his car keys from a coffee table.

“So are you going or what?” he threw in her direction, heading straight to the front door.

“Going where?” Y/N asked. She was utterly at a loss with his mood swings and his hastiness.

Ashton stopped right before the doors and looked at her, bright smile on his face. “I thought you wanted to get your stuff?”

***

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mrschangrettawrites · 6 years

Text

Acquisitions

Summary: Every person has their purpose, and yours has just come up.

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

Words: 1692

Notes: FINALLY AN UPDATE AFTER SIX MONTHS FDKNGKDOFNGDKFNGOD god im so sorry it has taken this long to update but i've gotten a job since starting this fic and it's consumed much of my time, then the holidays were upon us and, well, yall know how it goes. but i got hit with inspo during my shift today so here it is! the long awaited fourth chapter! hopefully future updates wont be as delayed but who knows lmao. anyways thanks for waiting! minor tw for violence. Spoilers for season four, but it is v canon divergent so not really very many, reader is a WOC. I highly highly highly recommend installing the InteractiveFics extension from the Chrome store if you can. To add your name and last name simply install the extension, then click ‘Need to replace something other than Y/N?’ and in the value bar put Name and put your name in the Replace With bar, then click change! And be sure to tick Store this replacement so that you don’t have to do it every time.

Tagging: @kittiofdoom @justanothergal22 @sophspark @blinder-secrets @ree-duh @kamala-khaan if you would like to be tagged just lmk!

Just as the tension was getting to be almost too overwhelming, a waiter arrived with two menus, and you had never been so relieved to be served in your life.

“Thank you.” You said, smiling brightly as you took one and did your best to hide behind it under the guise of reading the dishes on offer. Thankfully there were pork free dishes on offer, which made you remember that you were going to have to educate Luca on Islam and it’s rules. Then you wondered if he would be as open and kind about there being another religion in his home as your father had been prior to his reversion. You guessed that Luca was Catholic, and while there were similarities between Catholicism and Islam, there were far more glaring differences.

“When we have our wedding,” you began hesitantly, “will it be in a church?”

“If I know my mother as well as I think I do, I doubt we’ll have a choice.” Luca joked. “Why?”

“Just checking!” You said quickly, going back to the menu. Even though there had not been a masjid in Small Heath, you had always dreamed of getting married in one. Your parents had to go all the way to London, so you figured that you would be able to do the same. Would New York have masjids? Would it have Muslims? Would it have Turkish Muslims?

“What's New York like?”

Luca paused, setting his menu down. “Well, for one, it’s a lot bigger than Small Heath.”

That made you smile. “I thought as much.”

“I don’t know, it’s just...hard to describe.” Luca drummed his fingers on the table, making your gaze flit down to his hand, and watch how elegantly it moved. “It’s full of life.” He said finally, his hand still again. “Everywhere you go there’s at least twelve dozen people around you, even at night it’s busy. Makes Small Heath look pretty sleepy in comparison.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you considered this. Your mind ran wild with images of towering spires, roads that went on for kilometers, people dressed in all manner of ways. Your life had been a sheltered one, but that was all about to change.

A waiter soon arrived, asking for your orders.

“I’ll have the chicken Alfredo.” Luca said. He and the waiter both looked over at you, waiting for your order.

You began to panic as you had become too wrapped up in your thoughts to think of an order. “Oh um, make it two!” You said, inwardly wincing at how your voice raised at the end.

But the waiter made no indication of noticing, merely made a note of the orders and said that the kitchen would get right to it.

You looked back down at your teacup, eyes traveling over the lines, both dark and faint, trying to figure out what they were trying to tell you, if anything.

“Have you had much Italian food?” Luca asked, and you were grateful for the distraction.

“Not really.” You said. “Just Turkish and English food.”

“Well I can’t speak on Turkish food, but English stuff sucks.” Luca said bluntly.

A giggle slipped from you. “It can be pretty bland.” You agreed. “I mean, the English have an empire that spans the entire globe, with colonies that have incredible spices, but they never use them in cooking for some reason.” That would never cease to bamboozle you.

Luca grinned and chuckled. “I know Matteo can’t wait to be back in New York with proper food.”

You furrowed your brow. “Which one is he?”

Luca raised a brow, but pointed at a booth just a few meters away, where you recognised two of Luca’s men. “The one of the left is Matteo, and the other is Frederico.” He explained. “Matteo can be a little hot headed, but he’s loyal. Frederico is more quiet.” His gaze went back to you. “And they will both protect you.”

While the notion of being protected and watched by gangster was far from a new one, the gangsters in question were usually men you knew well. You glanced at them nervously. “So, they’re ok with this whole marriage thing.”

“That’s irrelevant.” Luca said dismissively. “They’re soldiers, and they’ll do what they’re told.”

You knew that was meant to put you at ease, but it didn’t work. They had orders yes, but orders have been ignored before. And you couldn’t help but wonder how they really felt about their leader marrying some girl from England, who belonged to a family that not a week ago they were planning to kill. You fisted the fabric of your dress that rested on your lap.

“W-Why me?” You asked quietly. You had managed to keep the question away from the front of your mind so far, but you needed to know. “Why would you choose me? If you were going to marry anyone, Ada would’ve been the smart choice. She’s Tommy’s sister, and she already has a son, she knows how to…” You trailed off, face burning. “Well, you know.” You cleared your throat. “Why are you marrying me?”

Luca was silent, his unreadable, impassive gaze slowly going over you. It made the hairs all over your body stand up, in fact your surprised that the hair on your head hadn’t all magically sprung to life. “I wanted to repay a debt.”

You furrowed your brow. “Debt? What debt? You don’t owe me anything.”

“It isn’t my debt.” Luca clarified. “It’s my mother’s.”

“Your...mother?”

He nodded. “She hasn’t forgotten, how you got her out of Small Heath.”

Oh. You looked back down, face flushing again. “I didn’t help your mum to have her in my debt.” You said, horrified that that’s what they, the Changretta’s and their people, all thought.

“I know.” Luca sounded calm, patient. “My mother said you weren’t that type. But you still got her out of Thomas’s path, and because of you she’s alive. I’m just repaying you. Now we’re even.”

You nodded, slowly, still not sure what to make of this reason, if it was in fact the truth.

If you were completely truthful, you hadn’t been thinking at all when you had gone to help Audrey Changretta. You just knew that her husband was dead, after hours of torture, and you knew that Tommy wouldn’t have thought twice to go after her. You still remembered that day, as if it had just happened.

While the early morning fog had still clung to your ankles, you raced to her home, heart hammering. You were terrified that you were too late or that she wasn’t home, but she was there, tired and a little disheveled, but there.

“You have to leave.” You had blurted out. “I’m so sorry. Tommy’s killed your husband and you have to go I’m so sorry I really am but you need to go please, please just go!”

It had taken you a few minutes to calm down and fully explain everything, but once you had, Mrs Changretta did as you asked. You even helped her pack, and kept an eye out for any Blinders. You went with her to the train station, all the while telling her how sorry you were. You were almost hysterical, and in tears by the time her train arrived. You thought that would be the last time you ever saw a Changretta.

When Tommy heard that Mrs Changretta was gone, he was livid. You had walked in on him yelling at John and Arthur, demanding that they go out and find her, leave no stone unturned, no person unquestioned. He was going to have his pound of flesh, one way or another.

“She’s gone.” Once again your mouth had moved faster than your brain could think, and you stared, wide eyed, as the three brothers and Polly all looked at you in shock.

“She’s what.” Tommy’s tone had been dripping with venom, and it sent a chill all through you.

“I’m sorry Tommy but I-I helped her leave.” You wilted a little, hunched over, equal parts ashamed and scared. “She didn’t do anything Tommy! She-”

You were cut off by the feel of skin colliding harshly against your cheek, sending you to the ground.

In a daze you looked up, to see Tommy being restrained by Arthur and John, while Polly screamed at him.

“YOU DON’T RAISE A HAND TO FAMILY LIKE THAT THOMAS!” You had never seen your aunt so furious, and it had only made your state worse.

“DON’T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN!” Thomas roared, eyes alight with rage. “YOU BETRAY THIS FAMILY AGAIN AND YOU’RE OUT!”

You began to cry. “I-I’m sorry Tommy! I’m sorry!” You wept and begged for forgiveness, but that had only angered Tommy further.

“Should ship you to fucking Istanbul!” He snarled. He paused when a child’s cries began to echo in the house, making him look at the ceiling. “And you fucking woke up Charlie!” Tommy managed to shake off his two brothers, and he glared down at you before getting out a cigarette. “I mean it.” He said, in his low, quiet, dangerous voice. “If you ever pull that shit again, I’ll put you in a fucking crate myself.”

Even after Polly got you out of the house you were sobbing, still saying how sorry you were.

“Don’t be sorry sweetheart.” Polly had said gently. “You did a good thing.”

‘Did I?’

“How is your mother?” You asked, trying to ignore the memory of the stinging pain from Tommy’s slap.

“She’s alive, which is what matters.” Luca smiled gently. “Thank you. I mean that. My mother is all I have left now.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “I would do it again.” You said, only realizing how true it was once all the words had left your mouth.

“Two chicken Alfredos.” The waiter had reappeared, carrying the dishes on a silver platter and laying them out in front of the both of you.

“Grazie.”

“Thank you so much.”

The waiter nodded before moving onto another table.

“Still can’t believe you people don’t tip.” Luca said, sounding genuinely mistified.

“What’s a tip?”

#luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders x reader #GUESS WHO'S BACK #BACK AGAIN

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sapphicscholar · 7 years

Link

Prompt: hi hello thanks for all the fic you write i flipping love every word of it if you find the time/inspo could you write a fic where lena gets mad at kara for not tell her about being supergirl and it’s gets angsty AF but then happy ending :)

A/N: This is fairly canon compliant post-3x12, save for the James and Lena romance arc. Since I started writing it before ep. 13, I’m not dealing with the fact that Lena seems to have realized Sam’s double identity as Reign.

Chapter Text:

Lena wakes most mornings to dreams about everything that’s happened in the past couple of weeks, but one particular set of memories has haunted her sleeping hours more than any other. All too often she wakes to memories of strong arms wrapped around her and wind whipping through her hair the way it had when Supergirl caught her. She wakes to flashes of Kara’s face looking straight ahead, her eyes flickering down at Lena every so often, worry etched in her features so deep Lena fears it will never fade.

Over coffee, Lena tries to remind herself that Kara laughed at the suggestion, dismissed it as ludicrous. And she was poisoned—that much was easy enough to confirm. There’s no reason that the poison couldn’t have created illusions that seemed as true as any memory. Not that she has much reason to trust her memories, either; after all, she swore she had distinct memories of Lex’s being loving and caring and not at all the kind of person who would slaughter innocent people for a vendetta against a superhero. So she casts her dreams as just that—dreams—and discounts her own memories as nothing more than products of an overactive imagination. Kara is her best friend. Kara has told her time and time again that she trusts her and believes in her. There’s no reason Kara would keep a whole part of her life secret from Lena for this long.

As the weeks fly by in a rush of too much paperwork at both of her companies, and holding Sam’s hand after doctor’s appointments when she hears once more that no one knows what’s wrong with her, and coverage of Reign’s destruction with a new woman who calls herself Purity by her side, Lena doesn’t have too much time to dwell on the question of Kara and Supergirl’s identities. But she still finds herself making idle observations that leave her queasy with doubt, with growing certainty that Kara has been lying to her for over a year.

It starts simply. She prints out full-sized photos of Kara and Supergirl, both of them smiling and cropped down to only the face because the posture is nothing more than a distraction, Lena has realized. Lena has seen Kara with her hair down, has watched it cascade in soft waves over her shoulders before she pulls it back up into a messy bun at game night or movie night. She knows that the difference in hair in those photos is nothing more than superficial. It’s the same color, about the same length. The smile is a little different. Kara’s smile always seems to be halfway on its journey into a laugh, her mouth open a little and the crinkles by her eyes obvious. Supergirl’s smiles seem more professional, like she knows there are cameras everywhere trained on her and knows what they expect of her, what they need from her. So Lena discounts those differences as well. The eyes—Kara’s might be behind those glasses, but Lena pulls out a ruler, going so far as to compare eye size and ratios. Then there’s that little scar, often hidden behind the swoop of Supergirl’s flowing hair but present—provably present. And oh, it seems like damning evidence.

She wonders what someone would think if they saw her with the two headshots and a notebook full of observations. Would she look like Lex? Is she as bad as Lex? She tells herself no, she can’t be; she isn’t doing this to harm Supergirl, after all. She’s doing this to…well, she isn’t quite sure. But Lena knows for certain that she has to know the truth.

The next round of observations involves spending more time with Kara—something she’s never been opposed to, though now she feels a little dirty, like she’s deceiving Kara, even as she finds more and more proof that the woman’s been doing the same to her. There are the broken lunch dates or the movie nights that end early with promises to reschedule and rambled excuses about forgotten meetings or emergency calls from family. All but one time, those disappearances coincided with Supergirl’s arrival on the scene of some would-be tragedy, and Lena feels a whirl of emotions churning somewhere deep inside of her. It isn’t anger per se—she’s happy that people aren’t dying because their resident hero was there to save the day—but it’s something close, something like betrayal and frustration mixed with an excruciating, overwhelming sadness that threatens to consume her. Kara’s always apologetic when she returns, but it’s never for the right reasons, and Lena suspects Kara sees through her murmured, “It’s fine,” each time.

With every bit of proof, Lena feels herself pulling away. She tries once or twice to get Kara to trust her. She tried bringing up the dreams again about Kara whisking her away like Supergirl. She tried asking Kara about where she went, why she wasn’t at her desk during the workday or in mandatory meetings. And each time Kara babbled off some semi-incoherent lie about a lead or an emergency—“gosh, no, not a life-threatening emergency, just, um, family stuff!”—that left Lena more and more certain that Kara was indeed Supergirl and didn’t trust Lena enough to tell her.

It all comes to a head when Reign swoops in through CatCo on a Saturday. Almost no one is in the office. She’s there, of course, and James is in his office with Winn whisper-yelling at him about something from the night before and “safety first” and not having “signed up for this.” Kara had gamely offered to come in with Lena when she mentioned needing to pick up some contracts. In retrospect, she wonders if Kara knew Reign was following Lena. Reign barely even gives a speech this time—something about CatCo’s refusal to publish the truth, their siding with criminals and the evil in society—before she moves to attack.

Lena watches the flash of hesitation on Kara’s expression that lasts barely a few seconds. As Reign sends a blast of heat vision directly at Lena, Lena barely has time to register the attack or Kara’s movements before Kara is standing in front of her, glasses thrown off somewhere, heat vision from her own eyes pushing back Reign’s. She’s still in her Kara Danvers clothes, and Lena can’t help but note that as she follows Winn and James around the office, trying to find an escape route, neither of them look even a little bit shocked at the realization that Kara is Supergirl. And oh, she could have dealt with the lying had Kara been doing it to everyone, but seeing that these two know, seeing that they’d been trusted, allowed in to see a level and a side of Kara that she had not…she doesn’t know if she’ll survive that kind of betrayal.

She watches Kara fight more fiercely than Supergirl ever has. Her expression has never looked less like Kara’s than when Reign comes for Lena once more, and Kara charges at the villain, knocking her to the side and crashing through rows and rows of desks before Reign even seems to realize that her path has been forcibly altered. Eventually James gets them into a stairwell, and a team of people Lena sees in the fringes of CatCo’s Supergirl coverage swarm the building, guns blazing and barking orders. She sees Alex, and her heart sinks a little further. She’s wearing a suit that looks far too much like the one her mother wore the last time she saw her, and Lena wonders if they’ve repurposed it. She yells for someone to “get the civilians outta here” before charging into battle, no thought for her own human mortality. As Lena is shepherded down the back stairwell, she wonders if Alex would act the same were Supergirl not her sister. Then again, the woman had thrown herself in front of a loaded gun for Lena before even having met her, so perhaps she would.

Lena doesn’t see Kara leave the building, but she catches a flash of blonde hair from behind a sea of agents clad in all black and then the telltale glowing green of Alex’s suit.

A few days later, Kara texts her: “Can I come over?”

Lena tries to figure out where she wants to have this conversation. She thinks about going to Kara’s instead because she can leave if things get to be too much. But ultimately she relents, sending back, “Fine.”

A few minutes later, Kara is at her door, clutching two to-go cups from Noonan’s. She looks awkward and more than a little exhausted. She’d been out sick from CatCo both Monday and Tuesday—a fact that had left James and Winn on edge—but if the speed is any indication, she’s at least back up to normal.

“Hi.” Kara shuffles her feet and waits for Lena to step back before she dares to cross the threshold. “I got this for you.”

Lena accepts the cup with a small nod.

“I guess you probably remember Saturday, huh?”

“Would you have preferred I didn’t?” Lena asks coolly. A small part of her feels guilty for the pained expression that distorts Kara’s features, but her overwhelming impulse is still to demand answers.

“Lena,” Kara sighs, “it’s not like that.”

“Then tell me what it is like.” Lena sneers the last two words, feeling anger building at how lightly Kara seems to be treating it all. “Because from where I stand it looks like no matter how much you told me that you trusted me, no matter how many times I saved the world and abandoned my own family to do it, you wouldn’t tell me this massive thing about you.”

“That’s not fair,” Kara shoots back, her voice taking on an indignant pitch.

“No, Kara, I don’t think you quite get what that means.” And oh, Lena can hear herself getting too close to the Luthor side she always worried lurked inside of her, but she can’t quite seem to stop herself either. “You told me Kara Danvers believed in me, that Supergirl trusted me. But neither of those were true. You let me give up a family because I assumed I had people in my corner, even when you knew all along that you weren’t really all the way there, wouldn’t let me all the way in the same way I did for you.”

“You know what, I don’t have to stand here and apologize.” Kara looks angrier then, angrier than Lena’s ever seen her. “I don’t owe you—or anyone, for that matter—a confession or an explanation.”

“Don’t have to apologize for lying to me every day for over a year?”

“Do you not remember when we met for the first interview?” Kara nearly laughs incredulously. “You remember what you were pitching, yeah? A freaking alien detection device to sell to employers because they had the right to know whether their employees were ‘hiding something from them.’ Do you know how incredibly unsettling that was for me?”

“I—” Lena begins, but Kara’s not nearly done yet.

“You were standing there telling me that who I am is something that can and should be used against me if a person isn’t okay with aliens, no matter what rights the president has tried to give us.”

“I eventually pulled the device, didn’t I?”

“Your first instinct was still to make it!”

“It’s been over a year since then! In that time, when have I ever turned my back on you? Or would you rather focus on my family? Want to count up how many times I’ve been accused of being on their side? Or maybe we should talk about that time I went to prison.”

“I defended you then—as Kara and Supergirl.”

“But even after I almost died for you—again—you still wouldn’t tell me the truth.”

“Why is it so important to you that you know? Why do you think I owed that to you?”

Lena swallows the hurt, bites back the explanations that she feels utterly broken by the knowledge that Kara didn’t trust her enough to tell her; it’s safer to focus on anger and indignation—it always has been. “You told everyone else. Winn, James—they weren’t exactly surprised to see Kara Danvers going head-to-head with Reign. The only thing they seemed shocked about was that you did it in front of me.”

“I—they knew a long time ago, Lena. Before I ever met you. Hell, James knew before he even met me, and Winn found out on day one, well, two technically, because I had to tell someone, anyone!”

“So what? I’m just supposed to accept that I didn’t get the same privilege because I’m not your oldest friend? Tell me, Kara, does Maggie know?”

“That’s different.”

“How? I met you before she even met Alex.” Lena doesn’t point out that Kara also had her ups and downs with Maggie—points they had discussed in detail over ice cream while Lena felt herself falling just a little harder at how protective Kara could be over her sister.

“She figured it out on her own.”

“So did I! I asked you about it, and you convinced me I was poisoned with fake memories. And then I tried again and again to give you space for honesty, and every time you laughed and tried to make me seem crazy for even suggesting it.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara finally relents.

“For what?”

“For making you feel like you were crazy.”

“But not for not telling me.”

“I didn’t owe that to you!”

“Fine.” Lena gestures to the door, knowing if they keep going, she’ll end up doing something she regrets, like crying and confessing that she’d given her friendship, her heart, her most vulnerable moments to this woman who couldn’t trust her with her own secret.

Kara seems to be on the verge of saying something, but eventually she drops her head, her shoulders slumping slightly, and she walks out the door without a second look back.

For the next few months, Lena throws herself into work back at L-Corp, managing CatCo from a distance. She spends almost all of her waking moments working, and when she gets home, there’s always a sleeping pill or a glass of wine to help her relax just enough to crash for a few hours. She keeps up on Supergirl coverage, but she never attempt to ask about it, never wants to give the impression that she’s meddling or particularly curious.

For the first time in a while, Lena lets herself leave the office at a reasonable hour one Friday, making it home by 8. She finds Kara sitting outside her door, a bag of takeout on the ground beside her.

“We need to talk,” Kara says.

Lena wants to point out that Kara lost the right to tell her what she does and does not need to do, that there isn’t much of a “we” these days anyway. But she also finds her heart speeding up just a bit. She’s missed Kara, missed the easiness of their nights together, missed having someone she genuinely enjoyed being around, someone who didn’t just see her as a Luthor or their boss. So instead she unlocks the door and holds it open behind her.

“I brought dinner.” Kara begins pulling out different cartons and goes so far as to use her heat vision to warm them back up again.

“You could’ve saved me on some of those utility bills over the months,” Lena points out, unable to hold back the snark.

“Did the latest multi-billion dollar acquisition deplete your funds?” Kara teases, looking like she’s not entirely sure that it’s alright to do so.

“What do you want, Kara?” And the question might sound harsh, but Lena sits down at the table. She’s been angry—with both Kara and herself in turn—and sad and bitter over the past few months, but most of all, she’s been lonely.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. There were a few times when I was so close to doing it. And, yeah, at first I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how you’d react. Supergirl was the one who told you about your mother the first time, and you still had devices that seemed designed to hurt people like me, people not from this planet.” Lena nods; she doesn’t like it, but she understands more now, gets how things looked to someone who wasn’t in her head, couldn’t know all of her reasoning and her thought processes. “But then we got closer.”

“We did.”

“And I realized you were good—not just good in the way that most people are—”

“The way you believe most people are,” Lena interjects.

“Fine, sure. But you were a different level of good. And no matter how many times your family or the media came after you, you just kept proving yourself and saving the world—sometimes doing a better job of it than Supergirl—than me.”

“So then why didn’t you trust me?”

“Do you remember what you said to me on your couch one night?”

“Probably,” Lena admits

“You told me that Kara Danvers was your hero.” Lena nods; she remembers the night vividly. “Do you know how few people would say that?”

“Kara, you are a hero.”

Kara sighs and shakes her head. “There have been times when even I thought that maybe Kara wasn’t worth salvaging, that it was Supergirl who mattered. And when I had friends—close friends, best friends even—who were out there talking about how their regular personas weren’t enough, that they needed to be a hero to do good for this city, it was hard to believe that other people wouldn’t think the same. And yeah, I had people like Alex and Cat, well, Cat when she was still here, who told me that Kara Danvers mattered. But you called her a hero, Lena. You called her a hero even though you knew her when Supergirl already existed. Alex and Cat—they knew me before I was ever Supergirl. But you—you didn’t, and you still thought that about me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’re really not getting how special that makes you, are you?” Kara looked almost frustrated. “You treated Supergirl differently than you treated me—not like a villain or an alien you didn’t trust, but it…it was more distant, you know? And that’s the way people treat Supergirl. She literally isn’t one of them, and that’s probably for the best. But people also—well, some people, at least—they worship Supergirl. They’d love me for that persona, not for who I am behind the cape and boots and cool powers, because they’d never even want to get to know that person.”

“I already know that person, Kara. I already know her and like her and want to spend time with her.”

“I know! I just…I guess there was a little, selfish part of me that wanted to keep one person in my life who only knew me as Kara Danvers. I didn’t want things to change. I…well, I kind of needed this—not this, I guess, but you and me hanging out and eating food and watching silly movies without the weight of the world on my shoulders. I didn’t…I don’t want you to look at me every time a siren goes off because sometimes it’s not an emergency, but I don’t want to have to worry about looking bad or disappointing you.”

“You could never disappoint me. You’re still human—or, maybe that’s the wrong word, but you’re still another person. You need time off to be yourself and relax. And I would never want to take that from you.”

“Really?”

Lena hated how vulnerable Kara looked then, like there were too many people out there who had crushed her with the weight of their expectations or let her believe that Supergirl mattered more than Kara ever could. “I promise.”

#supergirl #identity reveal #kara x lena #kara danvers #lena luthor #angst #happy ending #supercorp undertones #post-3x12 #fix it fic #ao3feed #fanfic #prompt fill

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imaginedeux · 8 years

Text

Knight (Single Dad! Calum Hood AU) 5

A/N: I got some inspo from reading “The Perks of Being A Wallflower”, I couldn't come up with anything to write, and reading helps me write. So because school is starting on the 18th, so this might be the last one for a while. I hope you all enjoy. It’s over 3k words holy...

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4

“It’s so good to be back in Los Angeles!” Michael yelled into the warm L.A. air as everyone got off the plane. After the conversation you had with Calum, it only took you a couple more days to completely get over the bug you caught, much to Aurora and Calum’s relief. Since then you’ve been flying to the last couple of shows in the US, seeing that they were all a right after each other, it only made it easier on all of you.

“Have you ever been to Los Angeles, (Y/N)?” Aurora asked from here you held her on your hip. Since you got better, she almost never left your side, and recently neither had Calum.

“No, i’ve never been so this is going to be an adventure.” You smiled adjusting the bags you had on your other shoulder. You still only had your one suit case, but now it was second nature to carry ‘Rora’s with yours, which you didn't mind. Until she started getting more things to take home at the end of tour, which was in a week or two, and it honestly scared you how close it was.

“Here, let me help you with that!” A familiar voice sounded from behind you, before you could protest, Calum came in and took both of your bags. “Im sure James and the rest of the security have told you how bad it gets, especially here in L.A.”

“I was told yes, which is why I was going to give the bags to one of the guards so they could put it with the rest of the luggage, but thank you.” You smiled walking ahead of the guys, starting to get ‘Rora distracted.

“You know she barely takes orders from James, much less from you right? The only one she listens to is Aurora” Ashton laughed as the rest of the group entered the airport.

“Yeah...” Calum chuckled adjusting his grip on your luggage along with ‘Rora’s.

“She has you wrapped around her finger mate.” Luke teased waving one his own. Calum would never admit it but, he was, he didn't really know what it was about her, but he couldnt help but smile when she was around, or when she was with Aurora. He felt like (Y/N) was able to complete the picture that he and Aurora were able to start. The times she wasn't able to help him tuck ‘Rora in bed because she had to do security detail with the rest of the guards, ‘Rora would ask him if (Y/N) was going to stay with them forever, like the way her Uncles are. He would tell her the truth that he wasn't sure if she was going to be on tour with them forever, but that she was going to be in their lives no matter what.

“GRANDMA!?” Aurora’s voice took Calum out of the trance he was in, to see the his family, and the guys’ waiting for them. Everyone went towards their respected families as he jogged over to his own and to (Y/N).

“Mum?” He asked giving her a hug as she hugged ‘Rora.

“Didn't expect us to be here did you?” His dad asked as he got ahold of his granddaughter.

“Seeing that there was a week between this leg and the last couple of shows in Oz, we thought we would pay you a visit.” His sister, Mali-Koa said bringing him in for a hug as he let go of his mom. “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, i’m Calum’s sister, Mali-Koa, and you are...?” She asked seeing you stand off to the side awkwardly.

“Oh, um, I'm (Y/Full/N) I work as Security for the guys. Its finally nice to put some faces to the names Aurora talk about.” You said holding out your hand for a hand shake.

“Oh YOU’RE THE (Y/N), AURORA AND CALUM ARE ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT, ITS SO NICE TO FINALLY MEET YOU!” Mali gushed letting go of her brother to bring you in for a hug. You blushed at what she said, but gave her a hug nonetheless.

“Yeah! (Y/N), this is my Aunty Mali, and my Kuia, and Koroua!” Aurora said taking your hand before pointing at Mali-Koa, then Calum’s mom and dad.

“Kuia means grandmother and Koroua means grandfather in Maori.” Calum explained kneeling down to grab ‘Rora. “Since the family’s here why don't we all go out to eat? Do you like the sound of that baby?” He asked looking at his daughter, a huge smile on his face.

“YES! (Y/N), are you coming along?” She asked clapping, suddenly all eyes were on you.

“Um, I think i’ll pass love. You haven't seen your family in a long time, I don't want to get in the middle of it.” You said softly grabbing your suit case from Calum.

“But you are family...” Aurora replied just as softly, before she wiggled her way out of her father’s grasp and hung onto you, making sure you didn't leave. “Like Lilo and Stitch say, Ohana means family, and family means...”

“Nobody gets left behind or forgotten.” Calum finished taking back your suitcase.

“Come, join us for lunch, you can tell us the other side of the stories Calum and Aurora have told us. I’m Joy and this is my husband David by the way.” She introduced herself before bringing you in for a hug.

“So you served in the Army?” David asked as everyone entered the thresh hold of Calum’s house. Since Aurora was born, Calum decided to buy a house in L.A. since he knew he was going to be on this side of the world more often than not recording with the rest of the band.

“Yes Sir.” You replied, at the restaurant one of your old platoon buddies recognized you.

“Staff Sargent (Y/Last/N), how have you been Ma’m?” One of the younger guys in your platoon came up to the table you and the rest of the Hood family was at.

“Nice to see you too Private Lozano, how have you been? How’s the girlfriend?” You asked getting up from your seat giving him a quick hug.

“She’s Mrs. Lozano now, we got married a couple months back, I would have invited you but no one could find you, its like you dropped off the face of the Earth.” He laughed showing off his ring, before he realized he was interrupting something. “Oh, I’m sorry...”

“No it’s alright, this is the family for one of the guys I'm working for, they invited me out to eat. Calum’s the one i’m working for he's one of the reasons why I dropped off the face of the Earth. I started working as security for him and his band.” You gestured to him, he got up from his seat giving Private Lozano a hand shake.

“Nice to meet you mate.” Calum greeted him with a handshake.

“You have no idea how lucky you are to have her working for you sir. She always treated us like family. Believe it or not, she actually saved me during one of the missions we were on, I had gotten shot in the knee and once in the chest, so I couldn’t move. She came up from the rear and made sure I made it back to base camp, she used herself as a shield to make sure I didn't get hit more.” He explained putting his hand on your shoulder.

“You know I made an oath to you and the rest of the group that I was going to bring everyone back home no matter what.” You replied, a small smile on your face.

“ Even if it meant getting shot in the back three times. If it wasn't for her I probably wouldn't be here.”

“You never told us that story (Y/N)!” Aurora exclaimed reaching the couch in the living room.

“Because I never thought it was important love.” You replied taking a seat next to her, then quickly sat on your lap, her back leaning against your front.

“Well now we can see why she’s taken such a liking to you (Y/N).” Joy said taking the seat next to you. “You’re probably one of the strongest women I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, no, I’m not strong. I signed up for that job and I did the best I could in it.” You explained you never wanted to be a hero, you felt as if it was your duty to protect those who could not protect themselves.

“You said your armor protected you, so why did the man say you got hit in the back three times? Did they hurt? Did you almost die?” Aurora asked from your lap, looking up at you, genuinely worried.

“Oh yeah, well um, I used the armor to protect Private Lozano, so I was in more danger, but I didn’t die, so there’s nothing to worry about.” You easily lied to the little girl, not wanting to scare her. “So what movie do you want to see?” You asked looking at the movie collection she and Calum had.

“Hey (Y/N), can you come help me in the kitchen? Mum, Dad, and Mali, why don't you help Aurora pick out a movie or two we can all watch together?” Calum asked sticking his head out from the doorway to the kitchen. After Mali grabbed ‘Rora you quickly made your way to the kitchen where Calum was grabbing a couple of things to drink and started putting bags of popcorn to pop. “You alright?”

“Yeah, didn't expect for Lozano to be there and bring up that story.” You sighed leaning against one of the many counters the kitchen had.

“Is there something else to that story that he didn’t bring up?” Calum whispered, scared to see if he asked something wrong from how quickly you started breathing. “Y-You don't have to tell me, I'm sorry I over stepped my boundaries.” He apologized quickly coming to your side to comfort you, bringing you in for a hug.

“N-No, its fine. J-Just don't tell anyone what i’m about to tell you, no one outside the people who took me to the hospital, and the people who saved me know this. U-um, while I got Lozano back to base camp, I ended up getting shot 6 times, three in the back, once on each thigh, and once on my right shoulder. By the time we got back to base, I had lost almost three pints of blood and was going into shock. I was in the hospital for almost a month after that, I died on the way to the hospital but they brought me back before they took me into surgery.” You confessed, your face buried into his chest, tears streaming down your face, you hadn't told anyone what really happened that day, you told the rest of your platoon that one of the bullets hit an important blood vessel and because of that you lost a lot more blood than normal. “I-I’m sorry you have to see me like this, that was the one time I was scared I wasn't going to come back out alive.”

“You’re human (Y/N), and we all cry sometimes. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that. I won't see you any differently, but it’ll make me appreciate you more, and not take you for granted.” Calum murmured into your hair as he embraced you, you weren't much of a hug type of person, but on occasion Calum would bring you in for one after you helped Aurora with something important.

“I’ll take the floor.” You called grabbing an extra pillow and blanket from the hall way cabinet. After you calmed down from crying to Calum and watched a couple of Disney movies, the Hood family convinced you to stay there at Calum’s for the next week. You would have said no, but there was no way Aurora was going to let you go.

“No, you’re the guest, there’s no way you're taking the floor. I will.” Calum said going to the bedroom from the connected bathroom.

“You haven't been home in months, there’s no way I'm letting you take the floor in your own home. I shouldn't even be here, I should have gotten a hotel before we landed, but I didn't know any of this was happening.” You argued coming into the room with the extra blanket and pillow. “Fucking-a Calum, you could have warned me you were shirtless.” You blushed looking away from the half naked Hood.

“I always sleep shirtless.” He chuckled trying to grab the blankets and pillow from you.

“Well, I always went to sleep after all of you did and I would wake up before you all did so I never saw you.” You explained tugging them back from his grip. “I’ll take the floor.”

“No, I will.” He argued back.

“No, I will Hood.”

“No, I will (Y/Last/N).”

“JUST SHARE THE DAMN BED!” Someone yelled from the door way. The two of you turned blushing to see Mali, looking annoyed that she was forced to get out of bed. “Just share the damn bed please, I can hear the two of you argue from across the hall.”

“Sorry Mali-Koa!”

“Sorry Mal...” The two of the blushed apologizing, Mali shook her head and left back to her room.

“Fine, but fare warning, I toss and turn in my sleep.” You confessed giving the pillow and extra blanket to Calum. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Imma go change.” You said grabbing some sweats and a shirt from your suitcase. You quickly changed from your jeans and black under armor shirt to some old running shorts and an old t-shirt turned biker tee, you usually just slept in your shorts and a bra, but seeing you were sharing the bed with Calum, you opted for the shirt.

“Hope you weren't expecting too much Hood.” You said coming out of the bathroom with your clothing in hand, ready to put it away.

“I was actually expecting you in sweats and a hoodie, so this is a pleasant surprise.” He mused from his spot from his side of the bed, leaning against the headboard. “Is that why you always wear jeans and a longer sleeved shirt?” He asked so softly he wondered if you had heard him. There were scars scattered around your legs and arms, most of them were small, but there were a couple that were easy to see from a distance.

“Yeah, the bigger ones are from missions at the end of my contract, and some of the smaller ones were from bootcamp.” You explained putting your clothes away, your left hand instantly went to your right shoulder. “The lighter they are the worse they were, one of the ones from the mission with Lozano almost completely destroyed my rotator cuff.” You said moving your shirt a bit, as you went to sit down with Calum, to show him the scar. You’d never shown anyone any of the scars before, sure sometimes when it got too hot to wear a baseball tee or a long sleeve you were forced into a t-shirt and a couple of old scars from the past four years would show, but none of them were prominent enough to cause questions.

“Are the other ones just as bad?” Calum whispered scooting closer to you, this was another side of you he’d never seen before. He never knew of how much you were hiding, he had see a couple of scars that were across your arms when you wore t-shirts, but was always scared to ask you about them. He was scared that he would end up pushing you away from him.

“The ones on my thighs aren't too bad, they just look like dimples in them.”

“Luke dimples or Ashton dimples?” He chuckled seeing a bit of the scar on the outside of your thigh.

“Ashton.” You laughed.

“What about the ones on your back? Wait, no, I shouldn't have asked! You don't have to show them to me!”

“Someone might as well see them, and you’re one of the only people I trust enough to show them to...” You chuckled turning your back to him, pulling your shirt so your left shoulder was visible. “That one bounced off one of the cars I pulled Lozano behind and bypassed the armor the vest had by a couple of inches, and hit my shoulder. Since it wasn't at its full force that one wasn't as bad. After that happened, I gave the vest to Lozano so he could shield himself a bit more, a couple of blocks away from base another one...” You started before you started pulling the back of you shirt up, before Calum helped you keep it at the base of your neck. “Thanks, um the one on my right, gave me a collapsed lung.” You explained before you could feel Calum barely touch the scar, which showed from the bottom of the bra. “It doesn't hurt Cal.” You chuckled at how gentle he was being. “I’m not going to break if you touch it.”

“Still, you’ve been through so much...” He whispered finally touching the scar, he knew you wouldn't break, but he knew what was once here almost killed you, and that scared him.

“That one didn't really scare me, cause people can live with one lung, but the one thats at the base of my back is the one who gave me the run for my money.” You explained as you touched the nickel sized scar that was just above the waistband of your shorts. “A couple of inches to the right, and it could have hit my spine, and I could have been paralyzed.” You sighed remembering what the doctor said once you came too after the surgery.

“Jesus, (Y/N)...” Calum murmured gently allowing his finger to run over the scar. “I knew from the very beginning that you were one of the strongest people i’ve ever met, but this shows how brave and selfless you are.”

“It was a part of my...” You started before Calum took you off guard and hugged you from behind, his arms easily wrapping around your stomach bringing you closer to him.

“Don't say it was part of your job, its just who you are, you want to protect others, you want to make sure everyone is okay, you make people feel a part of a family. (Y/N), I want to protect you as much as I can, Aurora loves you, the rest of the guys see you as a sister, my family love you already, and you just met them not even 12 hours ago. I honestly don't want to think of you leaving ‘Rora and I after tour is over.” Calum confessed nuzzling his head into your shoulder.

“I already told you, i’ll still be in your lives no matter what.” You whispered holding onto the back of his hand, your thumbs ran over his knuckles, a gesture the two of you became accustomed too over the past couple of weeks.

“Let’s make it a bit more concrete.” He whispered before giving your shoulder butterfly kisses.

“And how would that happen?” You whispered shivering a bit, you weren't use to too much intimacy, over the past couple of months the two of you would share hugs, and a couple of cuddle sessions with Aurora, but this was a new level for you.

“Well, first I would ask you to be my girlfriend, then I would ask you if you wanted to move in with Aurora and I once the tour is over.” Calum explained bringing you to him so his chest was to your back.

“Is this your way of killing two birds with one stone?” You asked starting to lean against him a bit.

“Yeah.” He chuckled, his laugh causing his chest to vibrate against your back, making you smile a bit.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but let’s not tell anyone yet. I don't know how Aurora is going to react, I want to be able to tell her, and I want her to know that if she doesn't want me to be anything more than just (Y/N), I’ll be fine with that.”

“Okay, we’ll tell everyone when you want.” He smiled kissing the top of your head, happy to be able to call you his girlfriend.

#FINAL-FUCKING-LY #calum hood #calum hood imagine #5sos imagines #calum hood au #calum imagine #single dad!calum #5sos #5sos au #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer au #5 seconds of summer blurb

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