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husbandohunter · 4 years ago

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May I request a Childe X Reader fanfic where the reader has been pushing herself too hard lately and so Childe has to forcefully get her to rest? ty

By my side [Childe x Reader]//Genshin Impact

Synopsis: You were an artist and he was an adventurer. Two people from vast backgrounds and Childe just wants to spend some time of his busy life with you. However, things didn't really go his way...at first.

(Childe x F!reader. Its all fluff)

(A/n): Perfect request anon. I too, would like to have a Childe in my life. Been getting 5-6 hours of sleep on average 😃😁. Yeah kind tossed some extra ideas with artist s/o, its a perfect reason for anyone to be busy.

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Once recieving the permission to take a week off from his diplomatic duties, the first thing Childe thought of was none other than his lovely significant other.

The harbinger knew quite well what lays ahead of his ventures to Liyue. During his quest for the archon's gnosis, he encountered many interesting events, such as meeting the rumoured traveller hailing from afar and a broke yet courteous man who turned out to be the ultimate ruler of this very country he walks upon then there was the battle against a dead god until he revived it using the sigil of permission. All of them were great additions to his story as Ajax the hero, something he always wanted to pursue since childhood. In which, also gave him something nice to write about when preparing letters for his siblings living back home. But little did the harbinger know that he'll one day bump into the heroine. A little too soon. Through your little art shop, he met you, a sweet and audacious woman with plenty of humour. That was how it all began.

While he strides down the streets between Liyue's exquisite buildings, Childe suddenly stops in his tracks and looks up to the sky. There, was painted a scenery of an evening dusk, sun rays relfected across until red and orange hues cast a river stream that led to the ends of the world. He watched the birds follow that streak like it was a path made for them to fly towards. A new adventure. You would have loved to captured this in your pictures.

And then he wonders, what might you be painting right now?

"Hey babe, I'm home~"

In a sing-song voice he calls out to you by your nick-name. You knew that Childe was an active member of the Fatui and that his time was limited, hence he made sure to write to you as well. Of course long distant relationships only makes the waiting more anticipated. When he does pay a visit, you'd run straight into his open arms, leaping off your feet to engulf him in one enourmous embrace. Then his hands will hold against your waist as he spins your round and around in the air, stealing the laughter out of your lungs before planting you back on the floor. Sometimes Childe would consider that being far away wasn't be such a bad idea as long as he was able to experience this, the harder the battle, the sweeter the victory. However...

"That's great."

He was met by a response similar to the wintry grace of Snezhnaya.

Huh?

All the fantasies he had from earlier shatters in the background as he stands there frozen. You didn't even spare a glance to the entrance, eyes still glued to the large canvas displayed at your front, too busy to even care. Childe clicks his tongue between the awkward silence with an uncertain expression. When there was no signs of initiation on your part, he shuffled his way to where you were and observes from behind.

"Well you're particularly quiet today," he muses to himself, placing a hand over his hip, "I guess that painting of yours must be really important then."

It was obvious that he was trying to nudge you into his favour. Something that you've found endearing was how quickly your boyfriend can be when he's in a needy state. So you quickly twisted over to peck him on the cheek before going back to work.

"That's better," Childe satisfiedly grins, "So who is this project for?"

"It's a commission requested by a wealthy family serving the Qixing. They're really influential in terms of the market and can really give me a competitive edge. I have to get it done in five days."

His tone flactuates as he squints his eyes, "Five days you say," he disliked the news of your schedule taking over his own, Childe only managed to take a week off and after that, he'll be away for quite some time, "Why don't you take a break? From the looks of your progress, it seems to me that you've been working on it for hours. I've got plenty of interesting stories to tell and you know, nothing can compare to sharing a warm meal within your company," he leans down to your ear level, "How does that sound?"

Several seconds went by as he waits for some sort of reaction, "Oh. Right," you blurted out and the harbinger only smiles, "I made some food earlier this morning. You can go help yourself if you're hungry."

Today was not his day.

Childe pulls out the wooden chair and slumps into the seat, a defeated huff escaping his mouth as he stared at the crystal shrimp placed on the table. It was hastily wrapped by plastic, most likely cold for a while, just like the romantic evening he had planned in his head. Normally you'll be sitting on the otherside while listening to the many tales he went through along the way. Although painting was your passion, it was undeniable that you also enjoyed his kind of lifestyle if you ever had the choice. He was rather surprised on how someone ambitious like him would end up with such a simplistic person but quickly accepted it as life was meant to be unpredictable, just the way he likes it. As Childe entertains you with his stories, he'll listen to your giggles amidst eating the homecooked meals that you both prepared together.

"I wonder if she ate already," he mumbled to his lone self. You most likely did but Childe knows you well. Artists are obsessed and they can go as far as to neglecting their own health for the sake of their masterpieces. Hence, he made sure to remind you to eat properly through the letters he wrote to you.

The harbinger takes a quick glance around the kitchen. It was a mess. The cupboards were slightly opened, metal pots were still displayed on the stone stove and the stench coming from the sink....

Childe pushes himsel up to see what was the cause.

Not even the dishes were washed.

Running his fingers through his bangs, he sighs wearily, "Old habits die hard huh?" And above all else, when artists are obsessed they also forget how disorganized they can become. Childe begins to roll up his sleeves before taking off his gloves. At times like this he'll have to pitch in and take care of it for you, "Looks like I'll be here for a while."

Throughout three sunsets and three moonrises, Childe had no option but to observe you from afar, minus the few attempts he made to regain your attention again. How you would go to bed much later than him, waking up before he opens his eyes and the effort he put into making your food only left with too many leftovers. It wasn't that you were unappreciative, instead, your mind had become too focused that your body was considered a second priority. Like anyone else, Childe genuinely thought you possessed great talent and supports you wholeheartedly. He loved it when you painted pictures just for him as if they were scenes coming out of his hero story, reminded by his adventures, capturing every detail. However he also needed to learn how to deal with this stubborn side of yours.

"Hey babe, I just finished preparing our dinner. Don't you smell that? Such a rich aroma, you should go eat."

"I'm busy."

Your diet were just small bites, the rest being substituted by coffee. Childe could clearly tell that you weren't getting enough sleep either as there were dark circles forming underneath your eyes and slowly, he was starting to become a little irritated.

Three hours passed midnight but you were still awake in the same place doing the same thing. Childe leans against the doorframe with arms folded, already changed into his sleeping clothes. He clears his throat to break the silence, "Ahem."

Your wrist hangs in mid air by the sound of a strange visitor, it was your boyfriend. Gaze in a daze, you lazily turned your head, "What time is it?"

"Way passed the sleeping hours as you can see," he points with his thumb at the table clock in a half-hearted manner, "You should already be in bed by now and don't think you can coax yourself out of the situation this time," his eyes parted in slits as he added with a smile, "Otherwise I might just have to force you myself."

You shook your head, "Give me one more hour? There's some finishing touches I really want to add so," clasping your hands together, you beamed sweetly, "Pretty please? I'll finish up soon."

"Oh really?" Childe challenges, head tossed back like he was interrogating you instead, "I believe that was also what you told me yesterday. And the day before? Adding up all of those days that would be.....four in total?" He deliberately counts upon his fingers before facing you again, this time his expression was slightly more serious, "As much as I find your determination remarkable, there are moments when you need to consider a sufficient amount of rest and this just isn't going to cut it."

"Four days already?!" You exclaimed, "Jeez, I don't even know if I'm halfway done."

Pressing his lips together, Childe glares in an acutely deadpanned countenance, it was also his time too, "Can't you ask this commissioner to extend your due date to next week? In your case, mora shouldn't be the issue since, well...you're dating me anyways."

It's true. Childe was the main reason why you didn't have to live as a starving artist. He had all your expenses fully covered from the marketing aspect to your residence, you simply chose to work out of pure will.

"I don't want to always rely on you so much," you confessed, "This commissioner could turn my whole career around. If I'm able to gain his favour, maybe I'll get promoted to a court painter for the Qixing! Who knows when there will ever be a chance like this again," pumping your fists, you spoke purposefully, "I'll pull an all nighters if I have to!"

Childe brings his hand to his forehead, you looked as if you were nearly about to collapse and yet still considering the option of an all-nighters? The harbinger should've detained you days prior before.

"Hm? Childe, what's wrong?" He suddenly falls deadly quiet and you watched him walk closer towards you, "What are--"

Hooking an arm behind your knees and the other at your back, your boyfriend lifts you up in one full swoop as he tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Guess we'll have to do things the hard way," he remarks cheerfully.

"W-Wait," you flailed your arms and kicked your legs but to no avail. Childe was an experienced combatant indeed, "Put me down! I have work to do."

Your protests fall upon deaf ears as the harbinger carries you to your room. You were oddly lighter than the last time he carried you, the strength less vigor than before, it was obvious that your body was in need of relaxation. He suddenly thinks there was a possibility that you would maintain this habit while he was absent.

I should probably visit more often.

Using his free leg to nudge the door open, he places you upon the shared bed in a gentle manner. You winced at the impact of the soft sheets, surprised by how much it affect you.

"There we go. All done. Man, you really are a stubborn one, aren't you. Makes me a little worried since I can't spoil you all the time."

He quickly invited himself to the empty space on your bedside and wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you close and feeling you whole. Childe made sure there was no escape once putting his chin above your hairline so that you could feel his warmth as much as possible.

"This is--" you stuttered. His tactic was enough to make your limbs soften and you could almost hear him smirk into the distance, "This is cheating..."

"You think so?" He comments as if pledging innocence, "I don't know babe. Where I come from those who take the initiative are the ones who end up claiming the prize," pulling back, Childe takes the opportunity to observe your pouty face, "I don't make the rules. It's just how it goes."

You wanted to argue back but he suddenly took the bedsheets and covered both of your bodies with, completely trapping you with his presence. He snuggles into you further as if you were a bear made of linen and you felt the drowsiness taking over your mind. The way he gently pats down the back of your head was enough to instantly lull you into a deep sleep.

"Cheater," you mumbled.

He laughs softly, the rumbles emitting through his chest, "I love you too babe."

Even after you've let go of your resistance, Childe continues his actions until he was sure that you were resting. He had been longing to touch you like this since living a chaotic life only made peaceful moments much sweeter, "You're such a hard-worker you know that? I'm proud of you but you have to know when to call it a day," he whispers, "If not, how can I go on trips while knowing that you're still refusing to eat properly?"

You closed your eyes and said nothing in return. All your senses were too cloudy to come up with a reassuring response. Childe listens to the way your breath evens as you intake his scent during the process. It smelled like the soap you used in the showers, lotus leaves mixed with his own unique musk. You could only focus on him. His comforting embrace. His slightly accelerating heartbeat because you were together with him.

Letting out one final yawn, you succumbed to his spell and allowed your energy to drift away.

The corners of his lips tug upwards, "Sleep well princess."

Childe reaches over to your desk drawer and shuts off the alarm clock before turning over to face you again. He couldn't fall asleep immediately, not when he had to consider taking care of the commissioner who gave you an impossible deadline. But that will be saved for another day, for now, he observes in silent serenity.

If he were to quit his job for a year, what would his life be like?

Peaceful. Something opposite of what he was living right now. Something similar to the life he had back home. As you arrange the many paintings in your little home, he'll offer to help you among the places you couldn't reach. Without a doubt, Childe was far taller in comparison. Taking strolls into the streets and trying the new dishes the merchants came up with. Then in the evenings, you'll both go to dinner dates while listening to the storyteller revealing the rumours of the legendary Tianquan Qixing. Although Childe loved the adventurous life he led, he had to admit that your domesticity and family-bringing atmosphere was a tempting idea.

Maybe one day.

He lightly takes a strand that had fallen over your nose and tucked it smoothly behind your ear. The soft snores coming out of your parted lips caused his gaze to melt. And so he steals them with his own, placing a chaste goodnight kiss.

One day I'll be sure to bring my family here with us.

Closing his eyes, he joins you in your slumber, hoping to see all that he envisioned in his dreams.

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duuhrayliegh · 4 years ago

Text

my hero - request

request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder

pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?

a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

check out my m.list

You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.

You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.

His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.

Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.

Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.

...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.

A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.

“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.

“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.

“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.

“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.

“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.

“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.

“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.

“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.

“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.

“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.

“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.

“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.

“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.

*********************

You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.

What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”

“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”

“shailene and seb supremacy”

“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.

Your heart dropped.

There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.

“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.

“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.

“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.

“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.

It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.

You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.

“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.

“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.

The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.

“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.

“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.

Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.

“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.

“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.

“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.

“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.

“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.

“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.

“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.

“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.

“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.

“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.

“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.

This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.

“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.

“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.

“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

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randomshyperson · 4 years ago

Text

Sorry for your loss - “I will move on” #04

Read on AO3 || Serie Masterlist here

Summary: When your wife Natasha passes away in a car accident, a part of you dies with her. It takes a few months of mourning for your psychiatrist thinks the best alternative is for you to join a grief group. And there you meet Wanda Maximoff, and learn to live again.

Warnings: (+16) mentions of death, panic attacks and anxiety, grief, self sabotage, mentions of abusive family background, mutual attraction pining, explicit consent, therapeutic conversations about death, self-deprecation, healthy methods of coping with grief, possible triggers about anxiety, domestic Wanda, hurtful behaviors.

Tag list: @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia / @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5

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Chapter Four - I will move on

"And I guess that's about it." You say as you finish telling Agatha about your last few weeks. She smiles as she shakes her head.

"I have to say I am proud of you." She comments gesturing briefly with her hands. "Are you sure you don't want to add anything else?"

You shrug, unable to remember anything relevant that you haven't mentioned.

You told her about writing again, about trying to drive again. About helping Wanda to stay home without having panic attacks, and to go back to work. You had only managed to drive in the supermarket parking lot, but it was still progress, and Stephen was very happy to hear it about too. The only thing missing to get your life back to normal was your apartment. And you had already arranged with Wanda to visit later that week.

"I have two questions for you then." Agatha says when you confirm that you have nothing to add. "Don't you think it's time to try to reconnect with your friends?"

You hesitate, thoughtfully.

"I don't know." You said slightly uncomfortable. "My friends weren't just mine. They were Nat's friends too. And then she died, and I isolated myself. And well, I guess they were in their own grief too, because none of them tried to look for me anymore."

"You took your time to heal." She says. "Maybe they took theirs too. And now might be the time to reconnect."

You sigh, looking away.

"Yeah, I'll think about it." You speak. You look back at Agatha a moment later. "What was the other question?"

Agatha hides a small smile.

"A sensitive topic for patients who lose their beloved lovers." She says and you frown in confusion. "Well, dear, I need to ask if you are trying to date again?"

You gasp in surprise, feeling your face heat up.

"W-what?"

Agatha lets out a giggle.

"I know this may seem insensitive at first, and that's more because of the sexist socioeconomic construct that treats widowed women as violated property that must belong to their lover for the rest of their lives than anything else but I need you to understand that it's perfectly natural to move on." She narrates and you just stand there with a shocked expression and your heart racing. "You are a single woman now, and you have sexual and emotional human needs. I'm going to help you work through any kind of guilt, because judging your progress, you seem ready to be in a relationship again."

"I...I don't..."

"Don't worry, honey." Agatha interrupts with a giggle. "I'm not telling you to go around fornicating." She jokes. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course. But I don't think it's really your style at all."

You feel your face heat up, frowning at Agatha, but she continues to speak.

"Anyway, I'm saying that it will be good if you get back into romantic relationships with other people. Casual encounters, that sort of thing. You are allowed to love someone again, there's nothing wrong with that." She explains getting up toward her own desk, and then gives a mischievous little smile in your direction. "Not to mention that orgasms are great stress relievers."

You choke in surprise, but Agatha just smiles, turning to write the appointment report.

Your face is still very red when you leave her office.

//-//

"I'm going to make a gardener out of you yet, huh?" Monica joked as you finished composting, making you laugh lightly.

"Well, I had a good teacher." You joked back as you stood up.

You were at Wanda's flower shop again. It became routine for you to help Monica with the garden and the flowers. And as the days went by, you got used to being in the greenhouses while she was attending to customers and Wanda was working in the office. It took two weeks for Monica to start joking that you had become a staff member at the flower shop. You don't really mind helping out. Botany has turned out to be something surprisingly relaxing for you. The hours of Wanda's shift passed by quickly when you keep your hands busy with the plants and flowers, your anxiety long forgotten.

"Are you hungry?" Monica asks as soon as you return to the store's front desk, and she pulls out the " break" sign tucked under the counter.

"Sure."

"Let's take a lunch break. See if Wanda wants to join us while I attend that boy." Monica says looking forward toward the window display. There is a boy clearly unsure about whether or not to enter the store and you exchange a chuckle with her before heading towards Wanda's office.

She is on the phone when she answers the door for you, and signals with her finger in her mouth for you not to say anything as she makes room for you to enter. As she mumbles in agreement on the call, you look around. She seems to be working on the organization of some big event judging by the whiteboard in the corner filled with notes, and you figure it's a party or some wedding, because you and Monica have been growing more flowers for this kind of thing lately.

"That sounds pretty good, actually." You listen to her speak as she jots down a few things in an agenda. " Don't worry, we have enough for the engagement party and the ceremony."

The shelf on the side in front of the whiteboard catches your attention, and you walk over to the furniture next.

Wanda moves a little behind you, adding some stickers to the whiteboard. You keep looking at the bookshelf, distracted by the objects on it. There is a picture of the twins that makes you smile, some books, and other small pots of plants. You lightly caress the bonsai before looking down.

You run your fingers over the red flower on Wanda's bookshelf, trying to remember the name. Monica has taught you many things, but you don't know many as well.

"Anthurium" Wanda whispers behind you, as she turns off her cell phone and realizes that you are looking at the flower with curiosity. You murmur in understanding, turning to make comment that it is very beautiful, but your speech dies in your throat when you realize how close Wanda is. "What did you want?" She asks curiously and you are almost leaning your body against the bookshelf, trying to think clearly.

"I-I came to ask if you want to have lunch with us." You say while mentally telling yourself not to look at Wanda's lips.

Wanda murmurs in understanding, and you can barely breathe when she stands even closer, her hand outstretched to something above your head. She pulls out a small stick caught in your hair, and all you can do is stare at her with a racing heart as she bites back a smile, and tosses the stick into one of the vases on the shelf behind you.

"I'd like to join you, but I'm busy." She says and her gaze falls to your lips for a second before she turns her head away and walks off. You let out a breath, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants as Wanda walks toward the table in search of the notepad and pen she was using before hanging up her cell phone. "Can you please bring me something to eat? I'm starving. I just don't know exactly what I want..."

You smile as you see Wanda's thoughtful expression with pen and notebook in hand. You approach, putting the notebook down with your hand gently.

"Don't worry, I know what you like." You say simply, and Wanda blinks in surprise, smiling awkwardly. "I'll stop by that confectionery shop you like and also bring you a dessert, okay? You look stressed."

Wanda laughs lightly, her cheeks flushed.

"Thanks, love."

The nickname slips so naturally from her lips that it takes a moment for both of you to realize what has just been said. Your gaze falls to Wanda's mouth the same minute that her pupils dilate. You are almost breaking the distance when Monica opens the door, not noticing the closeness of the two of you because she has her gaze on a piece of paper in her own hands.

You and Wanda immediately turn away, embarrassed.

"We have a big order, girls." She announces excitedly, raising her eyes to you. Monica frowns slightly at the guilty expressions and reddened faces. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

"No." You answer in unison quickly, surprising Monica again, who acquires an expression of suspicion and humor. You clear your throat and Wanda lets out a short laugh.

"We were just talking about lunch." You say. "And well, Wanda has a big order too. I guess you guys will need my help then."

Wanda turns to you again with this statement.

"What? No, I can't make you work for me..."

You interrupt with a laugh.

"Wanda, don't even start." You say. "I love staying here. And I'm happy to help, really. Don't worry about it."

"You sure make my shifts more fun." Adds Monica with a smile, making you laugh. Wanda looks at you intently.

"Are you sure?" She asks, and you smile as you nod in agreement. "We'll talk about it later. You can't work for free, and if you're going to help you need a schedule, and breaks and chores."

You laugh, nodding.

"Yes, boss." You murmur playfully and Wanda pats your arm, making you and Monica laugh.

"Let's get our lunch now, I'm starving." Monica orders as she turns to walk out the door. You murmur in agreement, and quickly kiss Wanda on the cheek before following the other woman. Wanda has a foolish smile on her face until you return with her lunch many minutes later.

//-//

You call Carol Danvers the day before you return to your apartment.

Things go much better than you expected, but it's not surprising, because you usually expect the worst case scenario.

Carol is very happy to hear from you, and you are happy to know that she doesn't hate you for not calling before. You talk for a few minutes, but she can't talk much on the phone because her shift is about to start. You are surprised to learn that she is working in a nightclub downtown now, unlike months ago when she worked in a rock bar in Queens.

She tells you that Bruce was traveling because of his internship, but that he would be in town for the weekend, and invites you to visit her at work. You hesitate because you are not sure if you are ready to go to a club, but you accept as you think of Agatha's words about reconnecting with your friends again.

You are the one who drives to your apartment the next day, after you and Wanda leave the flower shop. Your heart is racing the whole time, but Wanda rests her hand on your thigh to calm you down, and as the minutes go by, you can no longer tell whether you are nervous about the trauma or something else.

Parking in the small condo cluster, you take a deep breath. Wanda gives your thigh one last squeeze before she pulls her hand away and gets out of the car, completely oblivious to the way your entire body trembles at her touch. Shaking your head slightly to push that kind of thought away, you step out of the car.

Your hands are shaking wildly as you take your keys out of your pockets, just as you reach the second floor, after you have politely waved to the people who recognized you on the way to your apartment.

"Hey, breathe." Wanda asks softly beside you. And you take a deep breath, and it helps. And then you turn the key, and go inside.

It is exactly the same as the last time you were here, many months ago, on the day of the accident.

Your mother cleaned it up, of course, but it is still the same. Everything is in the exact same place, even the shoes that Nat left lying in the corner of the bookshelf. And you felt your chest tighten when the flashes of memory began.

You walked around, looking at the surroundings while Wanda followed you. A few tears streamed down your face, but you said nothing.

You were in the kitchen when the first sob escaped your throat. Leaning your hands on the counter, you dropped your keys and tried to push away the memories that were clear in your head.

It was as if you could feel Nat in the room. Seeing her in the armchair, laughing at your jokes, or being a disaster in the kitchen on nights when you tried to eat something homemade. Her books mixed in with yours on the bookshelf, your wedding and graduation pictures on the mantelpiece.

You moved away from the counter quickly, however, as Wanda looked at you intently, unsure whether to approach or not. Walking down the hallway, you stopped in front of your bedroom door.

And you stood there. Long minutes staring at the wood. Unable to move.

Feeling arms around your waist, you sighed, your body relaxing considerably.

Wanda hugged you from behind, and waited. You were crying again, and you only stopped after a while. Taking a deep breath, and lightly stroking Wanda's hand to ask her to let go, you waited for her to let go of you to open the door.

Wanda waited for you outside. You just walked around the room, your face wet as you breathed with difficulty, your arms crossed as if you were afraid to touch anything.

When you came out, you took a deep breath once more. And then you said you needed to call your mother.

That's how you spent the rest of the day packing up your apartment together with Wanda, your mother, and Pietro and Monica, who came to help after Wanda said you needed more people.

You came back the other day too, until the only things left were larger pieces of furniture.

"Are you sure you're going to sell?" Your mother asked you in the parking lot as soon as you left there in the late afternoon. Wanda had just gone home with her brother and sister-in-law.

"That was her apartment, Mom." You say as you put the boxes in the trunk. "I could never live here without Natasha."

"It's a good property." She comments, making you chuckle lightly.

"I'm sure the next owners will love it."

"I don't mean to be disrespectful, dear. It's just a nice apartment, not the kind of thing you get every day and..."

"Are you wanting to keep it by any chance?" You interrupt, irritated at your mother's lack of sensitivity. She sighs, and you frown.

"No. But maybe someone else wants to."

It takes a moment for you to understand what she is implying.

"You know Nat didn't talk to her family."

Your mother looks away.

"Actually..." She begins and you close the trunk with a confused expression, "I've been seeing Melina since January."

You blink in surprise, and then let out a dry laugh.

"I am speechless." You say in shock. "You...are you serious? Wow, I...wow."

You lean back against the car, impressed and annoyed. Your mother sighs guiltily, stepping in front of you again.

"Look, I know I should have had something, but you were so..."

"Sad? Yeah mom, my wife died, I had a right to be."

"That's not what I meant."

You sighed, rolling your eyes.

"Yeah, I know." You grumble. "But it sucks that you kept it from me. What the hell does Melina want anyway?"

Your mother looks away for a moment.

"She wanted to see you actually." She says and you let out a wry laugh. "I know how ridiculous it sounds, but her daughter died and you were the only remaining connection to Natasha."

You push your fingers against your forehead lightly, thinking you are starting to get a migraine from this conversation.

"You know what, Mom?" You say. "Since you two have become such good friends lately, tell her that her chance to connect with me was lost the moment she didn't attend the funeral."

Your mother sighs, but you are already turning to get into the car. She follows you a moment later, sitting in the passenger seat.

You drive in silence back home.

//-//

Over the weekend, you almost canceled your plans with Carol.

Your mother was giving you the silent treatment for the way you refused to talk about Natasha and Melina, and you were very irritated by the whole situation.

Grumbling about how ridiculous it all was, you agreed to have coffee with the two women the following week, and your mother's mood changed considerably, the complete opposite of what happened to you.

But you forced yourself to smile, and got up from the couch to get ready.

Around seven-thirty at night, you arrived at the place, which was already very busy, neon lights peeking through the windows along with the loud music.

"My goodness, look at you!" Greeted Carol cheerfully as soon as you met her at the counter. She turned around to hug you tight, and you felt your chest swell with happiness. You had missed your friend so much.

"You got a haircut" You comment in the same excitement, smiling at her. "I missed you, Danvers."

She smiles, mumbling that she missed you too. She asked you to sit on one of the stools at the front of the bar, and you did so while she went back behind the counter.

You updated each other a bit as she served some customers, and a while later, Bruce arrived.

"Banner I can't believe you are wearing a suit in a nightclub." Carol teased as she greeted her friend, making you chuckle slightly as Bruce explained that he didn't have time to look more casual.

"It's good to see you." He said to you as he hugged you, you repeated the words, then sat at the bar.

A few drinks and laughs later, Carol's shift ended, and she sat at a table with you two.

Between telling your friends about your progress in therapy, and hearing how Carol had left her previous job after punching a slacker client in the face, and learning that Bruce was working as an aspiring scientist, and lecturing around the country, the three of you had enough beers for the direction of the conversation to make your cheeks flush.

"I swear to you, she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen!" Carol told you, making you and Bruce laugh at her excitement.

"Now you're going to say that the next second you saw the next most beautiful woman in the world?" You teased wryly, and Carol laughed as she told you to shut up. "Are you even dating this Gamora girl?"

Carol hid a smirk, taking a sip of her beer.

"Actually." She began. "We're living together."

You widened your eyes in surprise, and then laughed.

"My god, Carol Danvers in love!" You teased making her laugh as she flashed you her middle finger. "No, but seriously, that's amazing! I'm happy for you, Carol."

"Yes, yes." She says smiling, "But what about you? I know you and Nat were like, madly in love or whatever cheesy stuff you put in your books, but it's been months. It would be nice if you met someone new."

The topic is quite sensitive, and the mood at the table changes because of it. But you are far more embarrassed than upset, and you lower your gaze to your bottle before answering.

" Oh, well, i..." You begin half-heartedly. Your stomach does a flip-flop, because you are thinking of a person. "There is someone, I think. But I don't know if we're both ready to take that on yet."

Carol makes an agreeing noise with her mouth, and then has an insinuating little smile on her face.

"Do you still remember how to be with a girl, champ?" your friend teases, and you nudge her shoulder shyly as she and Bruce laugh.

"Aren't those things like riding a bike?" The other man asked timidly, getting a wry look from Carol.

"You know, Bruce, your innocence is admirable." Carol teases making you laugh.

"Don't be mean." You say poking her lightly in the ribs, but Bruce doesn't really care. It's been that way since college when he told you guys he was asexual. The whole thing was funny because Carol has always been very, very sexual. And they have been teasing each other about it for years.

"Ah but I won't be, I promise." She assures. "Actually, I'm much more interested in hearing about your new girlfriend."

You laugh shyly, drinking some of your beer.

"I don't have a girlfriend."

Carol laughed, her gaze running around the room before returning to you.

"Well, that blonde girl has been looking over here for a few moments. I have a girlfriend, and Bruce doesn't like sex. I guess you're the one who's going to have to talk to her."

You widened your eyes at your friend's words, looking forward quickly.

A blond woman was indeed staring at your table.

"I don't think that's a good idea." You mumble clumsily, and Carol gives a little laugh.

"That's too bad, because now that you've looked, she's going to come here." Your friend warns, and you choke on your beer when you see the girl actually getting up from the countertop.

"Carol, help me." You awkwardly whisper but your friend just laughs, and then the stranger catches up with you all.

"Hi." She greets sensually, looking up at you. You swallow dryly as your friend holds back a giggle. "Would you like to dance?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words." Carol teased lowly next to you, making the girl laugh at your clumsiness.

"Don't be shy, I don't bite." The girl added maliciously. " Unless you ask me to."

You feel your face heat up with embarrassment, and you spread your mouth open, not knowing what to say next. Carol murmurs impressed.

"Sorry, sweetie, she used to function better than that." Carol interrupts the interaction, taking pity on your distress. "I think she's taken. But if it's just a dance, we can all enjoy it together."

The girl bites her lips, seeming to consider. She takes one last look at you, and then accepts the invitation.

This is how you end up on a dance floor, trying to escape the hands of a stranger.

You remember how to dance, and the drink helps a lot. But there are hands running over your body before the woman turns around and starts rubbing against you in rhythm with the music. You feel your breath catch, the excitement of having so much intimate contact after so long reaching you completely.

"Are you sure you're taken?" She whispers against your ear, and you give a short laugh, feeling your head spin.

"Yes." You half-heartedly assure her, using all the rest of your drunken control to push her hands away from you.

The woman didn't mind, stealing a short kiss on your cheek before dancing away, swaying her hips.

Carol threw her arms around you next.

"Wow, you really are in love!" She enthusiastically shouts to be heard between the beats of the music. You laugh with flushed cheeks, saying you need to take some air.

Your friend continues to dance, pulling Bruce close, and the man laughs awkwardly as he puts his arms around the blonde. You chuckle at the scene before turning to go outdoors.

It is easier to breathe outside.

Your first action is to take your cell phone out of your pocket, and check your notifications. Your heart melts when you open a message from Wanda. It is a picture of her and the boys, lying together between a comforter. The caption reads "movie night, doesn't even look like they were jumping on the couch two minutes ago".

You stare at the picture for a few seconds after sending a heart emoji to Wanda. And then you gasp softly, realizing. You really are in love with her. Like in romance movies, and fairy tale books. But also like the real thing. Because you love Wanda's company, her sharp jokes, the way she talks and behaves and cares for everyone. You don't want to be in a bar, or meet another girl. You want to be wrapped in a comforter with Wanda and the kids.

Trying not to panic at this conclusion, you put your cell phone back in your pocket, deciding to go back inside to say goodbye to your friends.

//-//

You are trying to find a way to tell Wanda how you feel. The problem is that you are insecure, because you have no idea if she is ready for a relationship again. You don't even know if she likes women.

With so much suffering in the past months, you also don't want to face a broken heart. So you decide to wait and see how things will turn out.

It is something about the way your life is completely intertwined in Wanda's now, in the same way that she has wrapped herself around your heart that makes you sigh when you think about it everything.

You are distracted while you work, and Monica smiles because you have a smirk while tinkering in the gardens, which is clearly not related to the plants. She doesn't say anything, because it's the same way Wanda smiles when you bring her coffee, or when you two come back from lunch. She can only be excited to think how it will be to organize your wedding.

It is at lunch after group therapy that Wanda invites you to her father's wedding anniversary party. You hadn't met him yet, and a party was a good thing, because you wouldn't have all his attention on you, and it lessens your anxiety considerably.

The party will be at Wanda's father's country house, and you will be able to cross the "take a trip" goal off your therapy to-do list.

In the meantime, you prepare to see Natasha's mother.

It is a Thursday, and you set aside your lunch period for this, because you really don't want this meeting to last more than an hour.

Your mother and Melina are already in the restaurant when you arrive, and you nod politely to the woman when you sit down at the table, signaling that she doesn't need to get up.

"So, what did you want?" you ask snidely, earning a scolding from your mother. Melina doesn't seem to mind your aggressiveness however.

"Let's order something to eat first please." Your mother says before the other woman can respond. You roll your eyes, not disagreeing.

After the waitress takes your orders and leaves, you cross your arms impatiently.

"Look, I know it's hard for you to hear from me after all this time..." The woman begins.

"Hard for me?" You cut her off with irony. "No, Melina. I was not the daughter you abandoned. It was just hard for Nat not to have you around. I simply don't like you myself."

"Honey" Your mother warns, but you let out a dry laugh.

"No, really." You continue firmly. "What do you really want with me?"

Melina sighs, straightening herself in her chair.

"Your mother told me that you intend to sell Natasha's apartment." She says. "I don't approve of such a decision."

You stare at her for a moment, and then let out a laugh.

"I should have known you'd only show up for the money." You say feeling your stomach turn with anger. Melina rolls her eyes, but doesn't deny it. Your mother looks surprised that you are right.

"I gave that apartment to Natasha..."

" I beg your pardon?" you interrupt angrily, your loud tone attracting the attention of the next table. "You gave her the apartment? Are you listening to yourself now?"

"We don't need to get carried away." She asked with irritation in her eyes, drawing a nasal laugh of indignation from you. "You know I'm right."

"No, Melina." You retort seriously, lowering your tone. "Clarify for me how you can possibly think that putting an apartment full of debt in your daughter's name to escape the state, making her work two shifts to pay for everything, sets up like giving an apartment to someone?"

"You are manipulating the facts." She hits back and you nod in disbelief, closing your eyes momentarily. "I had financial problems, and Nat didn't object when I suggested..."

"She was 15." You cut in. "You forgot that little detail right? You also forgot about going to the guardianship board to emancipate your 15 year old daughter just so she could take on a debt of yours?" You asked angrily. "Oh, did you forget about Nat working in a diner throughout her teenage years to pay for everything?"

Melina clenched her jaw, glaring at you angrily. You really weren't in the least bit of patience for this conversation, and it was a good thing the waitress arrived with your orders, because you were about to turn the table.

"I am not hungry anymore." You grumble as soon as the waitress leaves and you look down at your food, your stomach turning. Then you look forward. "When I sell the apartment, I will talk to your lawyer and if you are entitled to anything, you can rest assured that it will come in the mail. Now do me a favor, and never look for me again."

After saying these words to Melina, you exchange a quick glance with your mother and get up, walking to the exit.

//-//

You are pretty upset about the whole Melina thing, but your mood improves almost immediately when Wanda invites you to visit her.

Actually, she needs help with the kids, because she's busy with a rich lady's wedding that required priority on the flower project, and the summer vacation started that week.

Monica was helping Wanda with the whole design, so you and Pietro would take care of the kids.

It was quite fun to do it, because you loved children. Pietro even had the bright idea of setting up a little lemonade stand outside Wanda's house, and while the other women were working, you and he took the kids outdoors.

"Don't you think a million dollars is a lot of money for a glass of lemonade, Billy?" you ask the boy as you watch him put several zeros on the price cardboard. Pietro laughs as he helps his daughter pin up her hair.

"I don't know." The kid tells you without stopping drawing. "I'm a kid, I've never paid anything."

You laugh, looking forward. You and Pietro are sitting on chairs placed on the grass while the children play around the lemonade stand.

When some of the neighbors buy the lemonade, you tell Billy that a gold coin is worth a million, and he doesn't argue.

The temperature rises considerably throughout the day, and around two in the afternoon you and Pietro decide that it would be good to take the kids swimming.

"Call the wives please." Pietro says to you as you stand in the living room after you two walk back in and put everything away, and he is helping the children put on bathing suits. You feel your face heat up at the innocent insinuation of Wanda being your wife, but you say nothing and he doesn't even seem to notice.

You knock on the door, then enter the office, and smile at the two women inside, who seemed to be concentrating on their own papers.

"Let's go for a quick swim girls?" You ask, ignoring the way your stomach gets butterflies when Wanda looks up at you.

Monica lets out an excited exclamation.

"Yes, please!" She says. "This room feels like an oven!"

You and Wanda laugh, and you make room for Monica to walk past you.

"Any chance you have a bathing suit in my size?" You ask Wanda next, and she bites back a smile, thoughtful.

"Let 's find out."

//-//

It is only upstairs that you realize that you have never been in Wanda's bedroom before.

All the times you have been here, you were reserved for the living room, the kitchen and the office. Except for the times you were in the twins' bedroom, and well, when you used the bathroom.

You stood still a bit past the entrance, not knowing exactly what to do with your hands as Wanda searched the closets for a bathing suit for you.

"You know you can look around right?" Wanda commented with playfulness in her speech, making you chuckle shyly.

Stepping forward, you twiddled your fingers together nervously as you looked around. You smiled at the decorations, and especially at the pictures on the dresser.

"Damn, I think I only have one pair." Wanda grumbled as she closed the closet, turning to you next, a swimsuit in her hands. "Do you want to wear it?"

You smiled wryly.

"Not if it's the only one you have." You say. "Don't worry, I'll keep my T-shirt on."

"Don't be silly, it's really hot outside. I'll lend you a bra."

Wanda leaves her swimsuit on the bed and walks over to the dresser behind you. You step aside to give her room to open the drawers.

You look quickly away from the underwear drawer, feeling your heart race at the intimacy of this moment. It only gets worse when Wanda hands you a black sports top, which she is glad to have found.

"Thank you, Wands." You mutter as you accept the garment.

You widen your eyes as Wanda begins to unbutton the shirt she is wearing, but before you have a heart attack, she flashes you a small smile and picks up the swimsuit from the bed, turning toward the bathroom as she uses her free hand to keep the shirt closed.

You take advantage of Wanda's exit to quickly take your shirt off, put on the top and then the T-shirt over it.

A moment later she returns, and your breath catches in your throat.

"This swimsuit has a tie in the back, can you help me with that?" Wanda asks distractedly as she tucks her hair into a bun. You swallow dryly, trying to keep your gaze off her exposed legs.

Wanda stands facing the dresser, watching you approach through the mirror. You ignore your uncompensated heartbeat as you stare back at her, and let out a shy smile as you lower your gaze when you notice her flushed cheeks as you stand right behind her.

Raising your fingers to the height of her back, you gently touch the skin exposed by the opening of her swimsuit. The contact makes every inch of the woman's skin shiver in front of you, and she sighs softly, the sound making your stomach turn.

You risk looking forward again, at your reflection, only to find Wanda's mouth ajar, her eyes dark. You risk dragging your fingers further inside the fabric, making her choke lightly.

Completely mesmerized by the way Wanda's body responds to your touch, you raise your other hand, trailing a finger up from the length of her coccyx to the opening of her swimsuit, watching Wanda close her fists as her cheeks redden.

You can hear the sounds of her uncompensated breathing, but you can also hear the muffled laughter from the distance downstairs, and that motivates you enough to ignore the trembling of your fingers as you zip up Wanda's swimsuit.

"W-we should go downstairs." You whisper in a hoarse voice, ignoring the urge to rip off Wanda's swimsuit.

The redhead swallows dryly before slowly turning toward you. Your faces are so close that you can feel her breath on your cheek.

"I..."

"Mommy why are you taking so long?" Billy's muffled scream coming from the backyard through the window makes you and Wanda jump in fright.

Pietro and Tommy repeat the same sentence next, and you clear your throat, taking a step back. Wanda can't keep her gaze on you as you both walk down to the pool outside.

You can only distract yourself from the feel of Wanda's skin on your fingers because you play in the pool with everyone, and these thoughts are pushed to the back of your mind for the rest of the afternoon.

It is only when you have to leave, after the children have had a bath, and are dressed in comfortable clothes in front of the television, and you have hugged Monica and Pietro goodbye that these thoughts come flooding back when you have to repeat the gesture with Wanda.

You disguise yourself, smiling politely at the couple standing behind the redhead as you let your arms circle her waist as you hug her. Resisting the urge to close your eyes and sink your face into Wanda's neck, who has her hands on your shoulders, you hold back a sigh as you pull away.

"See you on Monday." You murmur in a husky voice, and the redhead nods, her gaze falling quickly to your lips.

You think you'd better get in the car before you lose control of your body.

//-//

Startled slightly, you opened your eyes with difficulty. Someone was calling you, but it must have been very late, because you couldn't see anything in the room but the blinking light on your dresser.

Grumbling, you stretched your arm out to reach for your vibrating cell phone and answer the call.

"Hello?" you asked in a voice hoarse from sleep, closing your eyes again.

"Hey, sorry to wake you." It was Wanda, and her whiny voice made you open your eyes quickly, worried.

"Wanda? Did something happen?"

"Yeah." She agrees, sniffling softly. "I just... I'm so sad. The whole fucking time. Then Tony came over and started saying these things and now I'm crying and I can't stop. I'm sorry, it's not your problem, I shouldn't have called and..."

"I'm coming."

You think Wanda tried to say something to stop you, but you ended the call as you stood up.

"Where are you going?" Your mother asked as soon as you came downstairs, and you were startled to find her awake, but you didn't ask as you noticed the laptop in your lap.

"Wanda." You mumble simply, looking for your keys.

"Kitchen countertop." She informed and you muttered a thank you as you picked up the item from the mentioned spot. "You know, if you're going to start leaving the house at dawn to see her, it might be best to move in with her."

You chuckled awkwardly at the comment as you put on your shoes.

"Try to get some sleep, work will still be there in the morning." You tell her to change the subject, and your mother sighs, turning her attention back to the screen. "You don't have to wait up for me."

"Oh, I figured." She teases last making you roll your eyes in embarrassment before opening the door to leave.

//-//

You didn't have to knock on the door, because as soon as you parked the car and got out, you had a view of the outside garden porch, and you could see Wanda sitting on the rocking bench, looking at the ground.

You sighed, opening the garden gate to enter the backyard.

Making a noise with your feet so as not to startle her, you felt your heart squeeze as she wiped her tears away quickly, turning her head to the side. You sighed, taking a seat on the bench in front of her, rocking it slightly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked a moment later, and from the redhead's silence, you figured not. But she nodded next, looking down at her own feet. "Tell me what happened then."

It takes a moment, but Wanda speaks. She tells how Tony Stark showed up at her door at three in the morning, saying that he blamed himself for his brother death but that this was a good thing now because it was exactly what he needed to change his life and stop drinking, and that she punched him in the nose, saying that this was always his problem, everything was always about him. Tony promised that he would be someone decent now, that he was going to change, and Wanda just pushed him away, telling him to go change somewhere else.

"I feel like the worst person in the world right now." She grumbles as soon as she finishes narrating.

"Why?"

"Tony has been an alcoholic since he was fifteen, and he's finally getting better. I think he was in need of someone to help him."

You shook your head, letting out a short laugh.

"And why is that your problem?" you retorted, surprising her. "Wanda you are under no obligation to suppress your feelings to make others feel better. You have every right to feel angry with Tony. And to not want him in your life again."

Wanda takes a deep breath, burying her face in her hands for a moment, as if trying to believe your words.

You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding whether to speak what you wanted to.

"Wands?" You called after her, and she looked at you. "You said you were sad. Do you want to talk about that too?"

The redhead looks away from you, a weak smile on her lips.

"I don't know how to talk about it really." She starts by looking down at her feet. "I never did."

You wait, stretching your leg out and lightly tapping your feet together with her on the floor. Wanda smiles at the movement, and then bites her lips.

"I think it started when I was a kid." She counters thoughtfully, her gaze straying to the yard around her. "Ever since mama died, or maybe before. There's this sadness, stuck in my chest. And no matter what I do, it won't go away."

You listen intently, waiting for Wanda to finish.

"When I was younger, Papa worked all day and Mama took care of me and Pietro. But she got sick, and granny came to live with us to help. I was ten when she died, and Pietro's anxiety got worse." She swallows dryly, as if the memories are choking her. "Granny didn't know how to help my brother, so I took care of him myself. And when we were in high school, she got sick too. And well, Dad didn't know what to do really, so I took care of her at home while he and Pietro worked to pay for the medications." She adds, and sniffles lightly. "I just remember being tired. All the damn time. I'd go to school, and come home, and I'd eat, and play, and watch TV, but I wasn't really there. I started to think that's how everybody else felt, because I had a normal life, and I had no reason to feel sad."

You frown slightly, but bite your tongue to keep from interrupting.

"Grandma died just before I graduated, and I barely had time to miss her, busy with college applications, and taking care of the funeral at the same time." She counters with a wry laugh, as if realizing how unfair it was that she was left to take care of everything by herself. "And then I met Vis, and he was sweet and kind and he was everything anyone could want. The perfect boyfriend, perfect friend, and brother and husband. So I choked down that sadness, because it wasn't fair that I was with someone so amazing, and I wasn't satisfied." She recounts as she lets the tears flow. "When the twins came, everyone told me that my life was complete. That children were exactly what everyone wanted, and that I had the perfect life. So I kept that image."

Wanda raises her hand to wipe away a tear that ran down her cheek, but others kept falling next.

"With Vis's death, everything started to fall apart on me." She says after a pause, biting her lips slightly to hold back the crying. She lets out a nasal laugh next. "But I wasn't going to let that happen, so I gathered the pieces together. I put a smile on my face and continued to be the mother my children needed. And then I met you."

You frown in confusion, but Wanda does not look at you. She runs her hands through her hair, shaking her head slightly.

"You came into my life at its worst possible moment. And all you did was make me feel better again." Wanda declared with a sigh, and you felt your cheeks heat up, looking away to your feet. "You don't expect me to be happy, or polite, or sociable. You don't care that I get cranky and irritable, that I wanted to skip work or eat junk food." She counters, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I feel like I can breathe again, because when you look at me you don't judge me like everyone else. You just listen, and observe. And take care of me."

You sigh, impacted by the intensity of the confessions. You think that if you keep quiet long enough, Wanda can hear your heart beating fast.

The redhead takes a deep breath, twisting her fingers slightly before speaking again.

"That's why I called." She counters in a sigh. Her eyes fill with tears again, but she doesn't let them fall. "You've been the only person who makes me feel this way. And when Tony came along I felt I was drowning into those terrible thoughts again. I needed you to pull me back up."

You raise your head to Wanda, but she is looking down at the floor, her cheeks flushed. You smile, rising to sit beside her.

"I will." You whisper as you interlace your fingers, looking forward. Wanda stares at your entwined hands before leaning her head on your shoulder.

"Thank you." She murmurs a moment later.

"Don't mention it." You reply in the same tone.

You stand like this for many minutes, Wanda wiggling your fingers together. You are about to close your eyes when a childish voice startles you a little.

"Mommy?" it's Billy, dressed in adorable teddy bear pajamas, scratching his eyes sleepily. "Why are you out here?"

Wanda looks at him in surprise.

"Come here dear." Wanda asks signaling with her free hand for Billy to approach. The boy yawns, walking over to you two. You mess up his hair as Wanda releases her hand to sit her son on her own lap.

"Why are you here, Y/N?" The boy asks sleepily, making you and Wanda smile at how cute he looks.

"I am a friend of your mother's, Billy, I come whenever she needs me." You reply with a smile, trying not to be affected by the way Wanda looks at you.

"You should come more often, y/n. Mom is happy when you are around." Billy declares causing Wanda to let out a surprised exclamation, and you feel your heart race.

"Oh, really?" You tease with a little smile, and Wanda pushes her shoulder against yours lightly. "I promise I'll visit more often then."

"You can live here!" Billy exclaims excitedly next, making you laugh in surprise.

"Don't be silly, Billy." Wanda adds embarrassed. "We don't have a room."

"She can sleep with you mommy." Billy retorts as if it's obvious, "Daddy's not here anymore, and your bed is too big, because it fits Tommy and me together!"

You swallow dryly, surprised and embarrassed at the way Billy is casual above all, but mostly worried that this comparison might have hurt Wanda. But she lets out a little laugh, shaking her head.

"It's time for bed, enough of this talk" Wanda warns the boy next, getting up with him on her lap.

You accompany the two of them into the house, waiting until Wanda comes downstairs after putting Billy to bed.

Billy's words in your head were still echoing when Wanda suggested that you sleep in her bed after she came downstairs, and part of you wanted to, but you figured that night wasn't the best time. So you slept on the couch, and left after breakfast, ignoring how warm your chest felt at the image of the table with Wanda and the twins having coffee.

//-//

Your first stop after leaving Wanda's house was the cemetery.

Taking a deep breath, you stared at the memorial stone in the ground. The small photograph of Natasha carved into the stone.

"I miss you, pchelka" You whispered softly, leaving your hands in your pockets as you looked down. Your chest hurt less than the first time you came here, but the pain was still there. You imagined that it always would be. "I won't ever stop. But I want to live again. I hope you won’t be mad at me, from wherever you are, and understand that."

Part of you knew that Natasha would be happy for you. It was one of the reasons you loved her so much.

Kneeling down, you pulled out of your pocket the items you had left in the car's glove box a few days ago, planning to do this since the day of the bar.

" This belongs to you." You whispered, after digging in the grass next to the headstone, and pulling out of the small wrapping your wedding rings. You placed the metal in the dirt, along with the daffodil seeds you brought with you. Using some of the water from the bottle you had in your hands, you watered after burying the items. "Rest in peace, my love."

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x yn #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #sorry for your loss

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jiangwanyinscatmom · 4 years ago

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Jin Guangyao isn't cruel because he is nice sometimes! No... no... just no. He pretends to be a nice, sweet person to get what he wants, it is exactly why he got away with the killings and plannings for the Yin Hu Fu, YEARS AFTER JIN GUANGSHAN IS OUT OF THE PICTURE. He's the only legitimate Jin left old enough to take over the Sect, who the hell was gonna argue that when all relevant Jins were dead and Nie Mingjue was killed by the happy smiling pretty boy?

First example, he was actively friends with Xue Yang, there is no saying he was coerced into that one since he recommended him as a guest disciple and made creepy little jokes with him.

Jin GuangYao sighed, “I only turned around for a second and you stirred up so much trouble for me. I only had to pay for a bowl of dumplings in the beginning, and now I have to pay for his table, chairs, pots and pans, and even bowls.”

Xue Yang, “You’ll miss the couple of coins?”

Jin GuangYao, “No.”

Xue Yang, “Then why are you sighing?”

Jin GuangYao, “I don’t think you’ll miss the couple of coins either. Why can’t you try being a normal customer once in a while?”

Xue Yang, “Back in Kuizhou I never paid for anything I wanted. Just like this.” As he spoke, he casually plucked off a stick of sugared haws off a vendor’s pole. It might be the first time the vendor saw such a shameless person. As he stared open-mouthed, Xue Yang took a bite, “Besides, you can deal with the trouble of me wrecking a tiny stall, can’t you?”

Jin GuangYao smiled, “You little delinquent. Wreck stalls however you want. I wouldn’t even care if you burned down the entire street. Just one thing—don’t wear the Stars Amidst Snow robes and cover up your face. Don’t let anyone know who did it, or it’d be trouble for me.”

He tossed the money to the vendor

A.K.A: haha you're funny and I don't care who you fuck over but be sly and

Next example:

And so, Jin GuangShan sought after all those who imitated Wei WuXian in cultivating the ghostly path and gathered them under his rule. He spent a great amount of money and resources on these people, ordering them to study and analyze the structure of the Tiger Seal in secrecy so that they could replicate and restore it. Among them, not many achieved anything, while the one who walked the furthest was the youngest Xue Yang, recommended by Jin GuangYao alone.

Jin GuangYao was overjoyed. He accepted him as a guest cultivator and gave him high rights and freedom. The corpse training ground was an area of land Jin GuangYao specially requested for Xue Yang for him to research in secrecy, which meant for him to fool around however he wanted to.

He gave a whole torture playground for Xue Yang to use, he specifically asked for this from his own mouth, for Xue Yang to use and he would check in on progress. As for his morals:

Jin GuangYao’s tone was somewhat reproachful, “He Su gongzi is a respected cultivator, after all. How could you refer to him in such a disrespectful way?”

The cultivator laughed coldly, “I’ve already fallen in your hands. What are you keeping up the pretense for?”

Jin GuangYao responded with a kind expression, “You don’t have to look at me like that. I also had no choice. To elect a chief cultivator is an irresistible trend. What was the use of stirring up trouble and seeking arguments everywhere? I’ve already warned you again and again, yet you were determined not to listen to me. Under these circumstances, things are already beyond redemption. From the bottom of my heart, I, too, feel utmost pain and regret.”

He Su, “What was the irresistible trend? What was stirring up trouble? Jin GuangShan wanted to establish the position of chief cultivator only to imitate the QishanWen Sect in being the only one at the top. Do you think all the world is ignorant? You frame me like this only because I spoke the truth!”

Jin GuangYao smiled, saying nothing. He Su continued, “When you really succeed, all of the world of cultivation would see the true face of the LanlingJin Sect. Do you think killing me alone would put you eternally at ease? How wrong you are! We, the TingshanHe Sect, teem with talent. From now on, we’ll unite and never surrender to you Wen-dogs of another skin!”

Hearing this, Jin GuangYao squinted slightly, the corners of his lips curving up. It was the usual kind, gentle expression. Seeing this, He Su felt his heart skip a beat. At the same time, commotion sounded outside the corpse training ground, among it the cries of women and children.

He Su spun around, only to see a group of LanlingJin Sect cultivators drag inside sixty or seventy people all wearing the same uniform. There were men and women, old and young. Every one of them was a cross between shock and fear, while some were already crying. Both tied up, a girl and a boy kneeled on the ground as they wailed at He Su, “Ge!”

He Su was shocked speechless, his face instantly as white as paper, “Jin GuangYao! What are you doing?! It’s enough if you kill me—why drag my entire sect along?!”

Jin GuangYao looked down and fixed his sleeves, still grinning, “Weren’t you yourself the one who reminded me just now? Even if I killed you, I wouldn’t be put eternally at ease. The TingshanHe Sect teems with talent, and from now on, you’d unite and never surrender—I was quite frightened. After much thought, this was the only thing I could come up with.”

Among the group are children. That he did see and stare at gleefully as he lets Xue Yang decide to use all of them for corpse experiments. What does that mean??? Maybe that Jin Guangyao is also not in fact best uncle as he similarly was willing to kill Jin Ling who he "loved" as bait to try running away and is more than willing to use his "friends" for his own rise to power or to run away.

Examples of him enjoying emotionally torturing others as much as Xue Yang as a tactic:

Example 1:

“That’s not the way to go about things, is it? The TingshanHe Sect rebelled and schemed to assassinate Sect Leader Jin with all its forces before it was caught red-handed. How could that be called without a reason?”

The ones overhead cried, “Ge! He’s lying! We didn’t, we didn’t!”

He Su, “Utter nonsense! Open your eyes and fucking look! There are nine-year-old children here! Old men who can’t even walk! How could they rebel against anything?! Why would they assassinate your dad out of nowhere?!”

Jin GuangYao, “Because you made a mistake and committed murder, Young Master He Su, while they refused to accept Koi Tower’s conviction of you, of course.”

He Su finally remembered the accusation for which he was transferred to such a creepy place, “It’s all made up! I never killed a cultivator of the LanlingJin Sect! I’ve never even seen the person who died! I don’t even know if he was really a cultivator from your sect! I… I…”

He stammered for a while before eventually caving in, “I… I don’t even know what happened, I don’t even know!”

Yet, at such a place, nobody would listen to his protests.

Example 2:

Just as he was about to move, Jin GuangYao smiled, “HanGuang-Jun, it’s best if you take five steps back.”

Wei WuXian suddenly felt a small, sharp sting come from his neck. Lan XiChen lowered his voice, “Be careful. Do not move!”

Lan WangJi’s gaze landed on Wei WuXian’s neck. His face paled slightly.

An almost invisible guqin string, light and golden, was tied around Wei WuXian’s neck.

The guqin string was extremely thin. It was covered in special paint as well, making it almost invisible to the eye. Along with how disoriented Wei WuXian was, unable to pay attention to anything else, he didn’t notice it when it wrapped around his throat.

“Lan Zhan, don’t! Don’t back away!”

But Lan WangJi immediately walked five steps back without any hesitation.

Jin GuangYao, “Wonderful. Now, please sheathe Bichen.”

With a clank, Lan WangJi obeyed again. Wei WuXian raged, “Don’t ask for too much!”

Jin GuangYao quipped, “This is already asking for too much? Next, I’m even going to ask HanGuang-Jun to seal away his spiritual powers. What would that be called?”

Wei WuXian seethed, “You…”

Before he could finish, the sharp pain of flesh being lacerated came from his throat. Something dripped down his neck. Lan WangJi’s face was pale. Jin GuangYao said, “How could he not listen to me? Just think about it, Wei gongzi, his life is in my hands.”

Lan WangJi spoke one word at a time, “Do. Not. Touch. Him.”

“Then you know what to do, HanGuang-Jun.”

A moment later, Lan WangJi responded, “Yes.”

Lan XiChen sighed. Lan WangJi raised his hands. With two strong taps, he locked his own spiritual powers.

Jin GuangYao smiled, his voice soft, “This really is…”

Lan WangJi’s eyes were locked on them, “Let him go.”

Example 3:

Wei WuXian wouldn’t have had to be responsible for a life as heavy as Jin ZiXuan’s, and the things that happened later wouldn’t have had to happen.

Yet now, he finally realized even the reason behind culprit’s curse wasn’t to frame him. Even the cause didn’t have anything to do with him!

Such a fact was truly difficult to accept.

As he laughed, Wei WuXian’s eyes reddened. He mocked, whether at himself or otherwise, “I can’t believe it’s because of someone like you… because of such a ridiculous reason!”

But Jin GuangYao seemed like he knew what he thought, “Wei gongzi, you really shouldn’t think like this.”

Wei WuXian, “Oh? You know what I think?”

Jin GuangYao, “Of course. It’s quite easy. You’re definitely thinking about how unfortunate you are. In reality, you’re not. Even if Su She didn’t curse Jin ZiXun, Mr. Wei, you’d receive a siege sooner or later, because of some other reason.” He smiled, “Because that’s what kind of a person you are. At best, you’re the untamed hero; at worst, you offend people wherever you go. Unless all those whom you’ve offended lived their lives safely, as soon as something happened to them or someone did something to them, the first person they suspect would be you and the first person they seek revenge on would also you. And this is something you have no control over.”

Somehow, Wei WuXian smiled, “What should I do? For some reason, I think you make a lot of sense.”

Jin GuangYao, “And even if you didn’t lose control at the Qiongqi Path, could you guarantee you didn’t lose control sometime in the rest of your life? Thus, someone like you is destined to have a short life. You see? Doesn’t it feel a lot better if you think about it this way?”

He takes little time in using others hurt or their protective instincts against them, and is just as gleeful to see others in powerless situations in comparison to him as it still gives him a form of control to worm his way out of everything that has caught up to him.

Jin GuangYao, “Ge, every word of what I say is true.”

His tone was more than earnest. Ever since he captured Lan XiChen, he’d indeed been treating him with respect. At this point, Lan XiChen wasn’t able to turn against him yet. He could only sigh, “Sect Leader Jin, I have already said, when you went your own way to scheme such havoc at Burial Mound, that there was no longer any need to call me ‘Brother.’”

Jin GuangYao, “What happened at Burial Mound was an accident, a mistake. But, I can’t go back anymore.”

Lan XiChen, “What do you mean you cannot go back?”

Lan WangJi frowned slightly, his voice cold, “Xiongzhang, do not engage in excessive conversation with him.”

Wei WuXian reminded him as well, “Sect Leader Lan, do you remember what you said to Sect Leader Jiang? Don’t spend too long talking to him.”

Jin GuangYao, “Ge, listen to me. I don’t deny that I did those things…”

Lan XiChen, “How could you deny them? There are both witnesses and proof!”

Jin GuangYao, “And so I said I don’t deny them! But to have killed my father, my wife, my son, ge—if not because I had no other choice, why would I have done those things? Could it be that I’m really so out of my mind in your eyes?!”

"Your… wife…” As though he couldn’t say it, he immediately changed his phrasing, "Your sister, Qin Su, did you really marry her while knowing what blood relationship you had with her?”

Jin GuangYao stared blankly at him. Suddenly, tears rolled down his eyes. He answered with pain, “… Yes.” Lan XiChen took in a deep breath. His face was almost ashen. Jin GuangYao whispered, "But I really had no choice.”

With a sigh, Lan XiChen continued, “Third, do not try to avoid it and answer me—did you plan the death of Jin ZiXuan on purpose?!”

Hearing his father’s name, Jin Ling, who’d been holding Jiang Cheng, widened his eyes.

Lan WangJi raised his voice somewhat, “Xiongzhang, you believe him?”

Lan XiChen’s expression was complicated, “Of course I do not believe that Jin ZiXuan ran into the attack at Qiongqi Path by accident, but… let him speak first.”

Jin GuangYao knew he wouldn’t be believed if he denied it no matter what. He clenched his teeth, “… I indeed didn’t run into Jin ZiXuan by accident.”

Jin Ling immediately clenched his fists.

Jin GuangYao continued, “But I’ve never thought of planning everything that happened afterward either. You don’t have to think of me as so clever and faultless. Many things can’t be controlled at all. How could I have known that he’d definitely die by Wei WuXian’s hands together with Jin ZiXun? How could I have predicted that Wei WuXian would definitely lose control and the Ghost General would definitely run a riot?”

Wei WuXian’s voice was harsh, “And you said you didn’t run into him by accident? Isn’t that self-contradiction?!”

Jin GuangYao, “I don’t deny that I told him about the attack at Qiongqi Path on purpose, but I only thought that he’d encounter some difficulties if he ran into you when you were being troubled by his cousin since he’d never been on good terms with you. How could I have known that you would simply kill everyone present, Wei gongzi?”

“Why was a sect leader who spent money like water unwilling to do the smallest favor and buy my mother’s freedom? Simple—it was too much trouble. My mother waited for so many years, weaving together so many difficult circumstances when she talked to me, imagining for his sake so many hardships. And the real reason was only a single word: trouble.

“This is what he said, ‘It’s especially women who’ve read some books who think they’re a level higher than other women. They’re the most troublesome, with so many demands and unrealistic thoughts. If I bought her freedom and took her back to Lanling, who knows how much fuss she’d make. It was best that I let her stay where she was just like that. With her conditions, she’d probably be popular for a few more years. She wouldn’t have to worry about her spendings for the rest of her life.’

“‘Son? Oh, forget it.’”

Jin GuangYao’s memory was extraordinary. With such a word-by-word repetition, one could even imagine that drunk expression of Jin GuangShan’s when he said these words, “Ge, look, those three words were all that I was worth to my father, ‘Oh, forget it.’ Hahahaha…”

Pain flashed before Lan XiChen’s face, “Even if your father… you…” He still couldn’t find an appropriate comment and gave up, sighing instead, “What is the use of saying all this now?”

Jin GuangYao shrugged as he smiled, “I can’t help it. To seek pity even after doing all these terrible things—that’s the kind of person I am.”

At the word ‘pity’, he suddenly flipped his wrist. A red guqin string wrapped around Jin Ling’s neck.

Tears still hung at the corners of Jin GuangYao’s eyes as he spoke, voice low, “Don’t move!”

"I had no choice", "I couldn't predict anyone would be killed" "He mocked and forgot my mother and I". He uses all of this as a try to convince a kind Lan Xichen to let him go. However,he contradicts his own defenses as he had said Wei Wuxian was always fated to die for his actions and lack of being to keep things under control. This empathy is faked on his end while he makes excuses all while he never extended the same courtesy to those he killed, innocent or not, and underhandedly still tries to get those sympathetic under his manipulations. When they are not working he resorts again to threatening lives. He uses his mother also as a reason for revenge, however his grab for power alone after Jin Guangshan and Nie Mingjue are killed was solely based on his own obsession of status at that point. His mother was no longer a goal to accomplish anything and his continued lies dragged in more than one innocent party to get what he wanted.

He never saw Jin Ling, Lan Xichen, Lan Wangji, or Wei Wuxian as anything but pawns despite his soft words to them that are really just a mockery within Guanyin Temple at that point. He has placed none of them before himself in terms of what he cares for and never had.

TL:DR: Jin Guangyao's "kindness" was always a mask and Nie Mingjue was right that he was irredeemable, genuinely unkind and cruel as a person.

(Edit: Jin Guangyao stans don't even try, I will block you if you dare to reply to this)

#mdzs #mdzs mo dao zu shi #Jin Guangyao #I'm a little tired of him being painted as something he is not too #he would never have been kind to Wei Wuxian in turn as he used his infamy for his own benefit #he said he was fated to die anyways #that's not friend material #nor would Wei Wuxian ever willingly work with him #lol good friend and shushu Jin Guangyao #please this take is just as annoying as any of Jiang Cheng's excuses

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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years ago

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Anniversary (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,5 k

Summary: Claire and Ethan celebrate their anniversary.

Warnings: Alcohol, tiny allusion to the adult situations, the rest is so fluffy I’m gonna die.

A/N: You may ask yourself “Does Perrie have any self control when it comes to fics?”. And the answer is ‘no’. Always a ‘no’.

It was a rare sight, two doctors walking home from work at noon. Their hands were full. Literally. After leaving the hospital, they stopped by the store to get everything they’d need for the next two days and they got a little too excited on their shopping spree. Two bags of food, swinging slightly from Ethan’s right hand, and a bottle of expensive wine, held tightly in Claire’s left. Fingers of their unoccupied hands were tangled loosely, and they walked closely together, not wanting to take up too much space on the sidewalk.

“How did Naveen even pull this off?” she asked, turning her head towards him slightly.

“I think we have your friends to thank. They volunteered to take our patients, not even Bloom could argue with that.”

“They’re your friends too, you know?” Claire teased, pressing a kiss to his arm. The gesture made him smile thoughtfully.

“I… suppose can agree with that.”

The apartment was bright when they walked in, curtains pushed back to let in the sunlight. Claire left the wine on the counter, stretching her arms above her head with a broken sigh. Meanwhile Ethan, even though he still held two heavy bags, watched her with wonder. She fit right into the picture of his home, like she’s always been there. He wanted her to be there – all the time.

He set the bags down in the kitchen, then turned towards the cabinet to grab two glasses. The burgundy liquid set a shadow, tinting the white marble red. Ethan passed his girlfriend a glass, smirking at her surprised expression.

“It’s noon.” Claire argued, eyeing him suspiciously as she accepted the drink.

“It’s happy hour somewhere.” He shot back, taking a slow step towards her. “And besides, it’s our anniversary – we have to start celebrating sometime.”

They clinked their glasses, taking a sip. Claire eyed him, her finger tracing the rim of her glass, which she set down on the table, humming under her breath. Climbing onto the tips of her toes, she pressed her palms to his cheeks and kissed him gingerly.

“Happy anniversary.” She whispered against his lips, giving him a vivid smile. Ethan couldn’t fight a smile of his own if he wanted to – and he didn’t, because he was happy like he’s never been before.

Brushing his thumbs up and down the column of her neck, he whispered right back. “Happy anniversary.”

Slowly, the day progressed. Two people moved around the apartment together with the comfort of a pair that’s been doing this for years. When the time came for them to begin cooking dinner, Ethan immediately sat her down on the counter, having assumed that she’d want to watch.

She didn’t.

Almost immediately, she jumped onto the floor, scratching his forearm with her nails as she declared that she wanted to help. They divided tasks and got to work, sipping on their wine. Claire got through her tasks without a hitch, wandering over to Ethan to look into the pot. The strong aroma of spices wafted over them, filling the room with warmth and comfort.

She stood on the tips of her toes and brushed her lips against the shell of his ear. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

Wordlessly, Ethan watched her walk away from his side, a hint of a smile present in his eyes. Not for the first time, he realized that not having her in his life wasn’t an option anymore. He simply had to have her by his side, nothing less would do.

The sun illuminated her, bringing out the freckles on her face. Amplifying the highs and lows of her strands of hair that brushed the skin of her neck with every move she made. She was glowing – his very own ray of light.

As soon as their dinner was on its way to be done and could be left unsupervised for a moment, he joined her by the sink. His arms wrapped around her, their bodies fitting like two puzzle pieces. The feeling of familiarity came back with a breathtaking force, squeezing his heart.

In that moment, he felt invincible. In that moment, he felt like everything was possible. Because she made him see that everything was possible.

In that moment, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

“I love you.” he muttered into her ear, barely above a whisper – the moment too fragile to break with anything louder than that. Claire didn’t freeze in his arms, just slowly grabbed the towel to dry her hands, then turned around in his arms so she could face him.

Her eyes were shining with emotions so powerful that he felt as though she put all this force into his heart and made it beat again, faster than before. Ethan smiled – a blinding and beautiful smile that he kept hidden from all but her. He leaned down, pressing their foreheads together so he could remain in their little personal bubble, his eyes never losing hers.

“I love you.” he repeated a bit louder, voice full of certainty and faith. His hand cupped her face, thumb stroking her cheekbone so softly, it seemed as though he was scared she’d break. But she wouldn’t, he knew she wouldn’t.

“Ethan…” she whispered as her hands traveled up his back and onto his shoulder blades, her words shaky but filled to the brim with affection. It felt right, like they were finally in the right place, at the right time. Everything coming together to form a perfect picture. Her green eyes stared into his blue ones, searching for any sign of fear. She found nothing but love.

“I love you.” once more, he said it, his lips brushing against hers as he did. Now that he started saying it, he couldn’t stop. He would never stop – as long as she wanted him around, he’d always tell her just that.

“I love you too.” Claire mused, tilting her head upwards, their lips meeting in a breathtaking kiss. Their bodies were already close, so much so that they didn’t think they could get any closer. Still, his arms, looped around her waist, tightened their hold, hauling her onto him with enthusiasm she’s seen in him only a handful of times before. With a giggle, she threw her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose against his.

“Again.” he bit her lip playfully, voice deep and velvety.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I. Love. You.” she punctuated every muse of a word with a kiss, leaning back against the counter and pulling him onto her.

Ethan’s hands grabbed her hips, using them as leverage to hoist her up onto the counter. Claire shrieked in surprise, laughing at his carefree behavior. Standing between her legs, he kissed her again, taking a deep breath of relief. There was nothing that could potentially stop him from losing himself in her.

Except for the insisting sound of the pot that demanded their attention.

With a disappointed sigh, he let her go, rushing to check on their food. She observed him, amused, but didn’t dare to move a muscle. Seconds later, he returned to her arms, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Not the best time?”

“I’m afraid so. But think about it this way.” she giggled, running her fingers through his hair. “We have two days before we have to go back to work. And I already told everyone to not contact us until then.”

“They’ll all think we didn’t leave the bed for two days.” Ethan argued halfheartedly, his lips now pressing soft kisses to the juncture between her neck and shoulder. A shiver ran down her spine at the sensation.

“Will they be wrong?”

“Absolutely not.”

It was far later in the afternoon when they finished dinner and retired to the couch for some much-needed rest. For the past hour or so, the screen of the TV was occupied by some show neither knew the title of. Neither could also say what the show was about, as they very much preferred talking to each other and finishing the bottle of wine they bought.

Claire stood up and headed towards the kitchen to grab a second one from his liquor cabinet, just lightly tipsy. She returned not long after, placing both the wine and the bottle opener on the table, then turned towards her boyfriend with a smirk full of mischief.

She extended her hand wordlessly, wiggling her fingers. He eyed her palm, then her, suspicious of her sudden idea, but found nothing that stopped him from joining her in the middle of his living room.

His own movements were slightly off balanced as he himself was intoxicated, but nevertheless, his arms embraced her and pulled her closer, holding her gently as they began to sway. Claire pressed her ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“There’s no music.” He pointed out, looking down at her with a crooked grin. The light of the late afternoon enhanced the features of her face, giving her green eyes a golden hue. She hugged him tighter.

“I don’t need music.” Claire muttered, kissing his jaw and snaking her hand up towards the back of his neck.

“Then it’s perfect.” Nodding, he let her guide his head a bit lower so that their foreheads would touch. With a smile, he added. “Because I don’t need it either.”

Notes

Once again, thank you so much for being here, every single one of you. It’s a privilege to be able to create for you, I can’t stress this enough <3

Time to go back to my corner and cry some more. Or write smut, who knows. Well, I do, but that’s beside the point.

Tagging separately

#ethan ramsey #open heart #playchoices #ethan x mc

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tryingmybestpls · 4 years ago

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Do Me A Favour (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve Rogers seeks out his ex-teammate (and ex-fiancée) as he tries to gather the team in order to reverse Thanos’s actions, but she isn’t happy to see him. (Part 2, Part 3)

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Swearing, that’s about it

Steve hadn't seen her in almost four years.

Y/N had left him and the rest of the team a year after the Snap. She didn't say goodbye to any of them, just gathered all of her things and disappeared into the night. Steve didn't realize she had left until he had came back to their shared apartment and saw that all of her things were gone. During those four years, she didn't reach out to him and if she was reaching out to anyone else on the team, they weren't telling him. It was like his teammate had disappeared off the face of the earth. He couldn't be too mad at her. Steve was the reason why she left.

Months after the Snap, he had proposed to her. She had been so excited and her happiness had rubbed off of him slightly. It seemed right, it felt right. Everyone kept telling them that it was about time they finally tied the knot. Yet, as time progressed and the severity of a post-Thanos world settled in, Steve wondered if this was actually a good idea. He didn't want to voice his worries to Y/N though. He missed seeing her this happy so Steve tried to tell himself that this nervousness would soon disappear.

Then the day of the wedding rolled around and Steve couldn't bring himself to drive to the church. His phone kept ringing as various members of the team called and texted him, trying to get a hold of him. As the start of wedding neared, Steve went down to the hall where he holds grief counseling and stayed there until the day ended. When he got back to the apartment, all of her things were gone. The only thing Y/N had left behind was her engagement ring and the wedding dress she had been wearing hours earlier.

Steve pulled up in front of the address that Natasha had given him, nervousness and guilt eating away at him. He was already confused when he pulled into the residential neighborhood, but the house he was currently parked in front of didn't help. Steve double checked and triple checked to make sure that the address was correct before he got out. He walked up the little stepping stones that lead to the cookie cutter house. She had told him that she never ever wanted to live in the suburbs, living in a house that was identical to the ones surrounded them. It was the perfect place for her to hide out.

Never in a thousand years did he think that Y/N would be living in a place like this. As he looked around, eyes landing on the carefully manicured lawn and the flowers planted in flower beds surrounding the house, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut. The thought of Y/N being married or even having children made him feel ill. Steve knew that he shouldn't feel like that at all. Y/N wasn't his, never truly ever was his. He was the one that had fucked up everything so he really shouldn't feel like this over the possibly of her being married. Steve looked up at the little cream colored two story house as he walked up the porch steps. There was a swing-like bench on one end, surrounded by various potted plants. It was all very...homey.

Steve tries his best to relax as he stands in front of the door. He swallows hard before ringing the doorbell and knocking on the the red door. Would Y/N still be pissed off at him? Most likely. She wasn't the type to forgive and forget, especially with what he did. Would she be even more pissed when she finds out he's here to try to get her to come back, to try to defeat Thanos? He was probably going back to the Compound in a body bag.

The front door opening ripped him out of his thoughts.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asks, only peeking her head of the door. From what he could see of her, she looked good. Y/N always looked good, but the past four years have been good to her. In that last year after the snap, she lost her color. Sure, there would be times where she was happy, but as the wedding date neared and Steve continued to be distant, those moments of happiness were few and far between. Now, she looks happy, healthy. Well, she wasn't happy right now. Steve shifts slightly, looking around in her little neighborhood before looking at back at her. Y/N was glaring at him.

"Can I come in, Y/N? We need to talk." Steve tries and just as she opens her mouth, a child's head squeezes her way through the door and Y/N herself. Y/N's eyes widen and the color seems to drain from her face. Steve feels like he's been shot at the introduction of a child. What if she's moved on, had a family during this time? He would have no one to blame but himself.

"Mama, who's this?" The child asks, practically glaring at Steve. Like mother, like daughter. He didn't know that she had a kid. Natasha didn't tell him that there was a kid involved when she handed him the address, a sad look on the ex-Russian spy's face. Steve knew that she had wanted to go retrieve her friend, but someone had to get Clint. Now, he knew why she was so reluctant to hand over the address. Y/N never even mentioned that she'd ever want kids. She would always brush off the question when Steve would ask, immediately changing the subject. But then again, four years is a long time and people can change. The rest of their team surely did. Y/N muttered a curse under her breath, weighing her options in her mind. Steve is surprised when she opens the door a little more.

"Sarah, this is my coworker, Steve. Steve, this is my daughter Sarah." Y/N introduces them to each other, her hand moving to rest on the back of Sarah's head. The way she says "coworker" made Steve feel like shit, but then again, he does deserve it. He tries his best to ignore it and moves to squat in front of Sarah, smiling at the little girl. Her hair is pulled into two pigtails and she's wearing a black dress covered in white dinosaurs. Sarah is practically a carbon copy of Y/N, down to her hair and features. The only thing that's different about Sarah is her eyes. She has bright blue eyes that seem vaguely familiar, but Steve can't quite place them.

"Hi Sarah. It's nice to meet you." Steve tries, holding out his hand. The little girl moves to hide behind her mother, holding onto Y/N's leg. Steve's smile fades and he puts his hand down, moving to stand back up. Y/N doesn't even bother to look at him as she guides her daughter back into the house.

Steve is greeted by the evidence of her changed life. Children's toys litter the grey colored wood floors and pictures of mother and daughter cover the walls. Not a single picture of his teammate from anytime before the four years she's been gone, but there was pictures of members of the team and her. A picture of Natasha, Y/N, and Sarah here. A picture of Tony, Morgan, Y/N, and Sarah there. No evidence of any sort of father figure. The smell of pancakes and coffee hang in the air. This is a home.

Time travel and Thanos are a million miles from his mind now. All he could think about is that Y/N, the woman he was supposed to marry, has a child.

"No talking business around her. Please." Y/N announces as she walks further into the house, Sarah following hot on her heels. The blonde wonders if someone had tipped her off that someone from the team was coming or maybe she just knew him too well and knew that he wasn't here for personal reasons. Either way, Steve feels the immense tension hanging in between them and gives mother and daughter both a little space as he takes in the house. It looked almost normal.

"Of course." Steve replies as he follows them into the kitchen. Sarah is already sitting at the island, looking at him as her mother sets a plate down in front of her. Steve stands beside the fridge, leaning slightly on the wall. He doesn't know exactly what to do, everything feels awkward. Y/N has a kid. Y/N has a kid.

"Sarah, it isn't polite to stare. Now eat your breakfast." Y/N scolds softly, no anger present in her voice as she speaks to the child. Sarah turns her attention to her mom as she picks up her fork.

"I sorry, Mama. 'teve eat?" The little girl asks and Y/N glances at Steve, who is smiling at how the little girl pronounced his name. His smile melts away as soon as he meets Y/N's eyes Anger is still deeply etched into her face, no matter how much she tries to mask it.

"I'm okay, Sarah. Thank you for asking though." Steve quickly fills in and Sarah nods, seemingly pleased with his answer. Y/N crosses the room, moving past her old teammate to go over to the living room. She turns on the tv, switching the channel from the news to some cartoon. A distraction.

"Baby, Steve and I are going to my office, okay? If you need anything, come get me." Y/N tells her daughter. Sarah just nods in response, her focusing going to the mess of bright colors and shapes on the television. Y/N motions her head for Steve to follow her as she walks out of the room and down the hall. She opens a door, flipping on a light. This is room is a sharp contrast to the rest of the home. It's cold and uninviting. Big, flat white cabinets line the walls, filled with God knows what. Steve wants to smile at her 'home office' because it's like she brought her weapons room from the Compound home with her.

But the look she is giving him keeps the smile off his face. Y/N's about to open her mouth, to question him no doubt, but Steve cannot help what flies out of his mouth. He just has to ask.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a kid, Y/N?" The Captain questions, his eyes softening as he looks at his ex-fiancée. Y/N leans against the table in the center of the room, crossing her arms over her chest. She no longer trying to mask her anger.

"You weren't in my life, Rogers. Why would I tell you that I had a child if we aren't speaking?" Y/N retorts, shrugging her shoulders like it wasn't a big deal. They both know that this is a huge, colossal deal. There's stomach acid in Steve's throat and he feels like he's going to throw up as he forces out his next question. He is dying to know, but he dreads the answer.

"Who-"

"Don't ask me that." Her voice is ice cold as she shakes her head, "Please, don't ask me that."

That's when it slowly starts to dawn on Steve. He swallows the bile down in his throat as he takes a step towards her. Her angry facade is cracking as tears brim her eyelids. Her carefully built world is crumbling down around her and there isn't a thing she could do about it.

"Y/N, how old is she? Just-Just tell me how old she is." Steve's practically begging as Y/N looks away. She's fiddling with the necklace she has on, moving the pendant side to side on the rose colored chain. It feels like an eternity before she decides to speak again.

"Three. Sarah-She's three." Y/N finally speaks, looking back at him. It's like Steve's heart shatters in his chest and he has to lean against the wall for support. Steve Rogers isn't as smart as the others on his team and math has never been his thing, but it doesn't take him long to do the math in his head.

"Were-Were you ever going to tell me?" Steve asks as Y/N chuckles drily. The smile that's on her face doesn't reach her eyes.

"Of course I was and then you left me at the altar. Forgive me for not wanting anything to do with after that." Her tone was full of bitterness as she looks at him, "I was going to tell you that day-God, I was so fucking excited and then you just didn't show up. That's when I realized your priorities were greatly skewed and that you didn't really care about me anymore."

"That-That's not true, Y/N." Steve starts and the woman scoffs.

"Really, Rogers? You weren't even fucking talking to me anymore. You only came to me when you wanted to relieve a little stress. Why you asked me to marry you is besides me." She snaps, her words full of poison, "I wasn't about to bring a kid into the mix."

"So what? You were just going to hide away here forever? Never tell me that I had a kid?" Steve responds, motioning to the door. He's clearly angry at the woman in front of him. Y/N chuckles.

"You know what hurt the most about you leaving me at the altar? You didn't even call. There was no "Hey babe, I realized I don't want to be bound to you by law, hope you understand!". Three fucking hours passed before I finally realized that you weren't coming. By then, Natasha had already hunted you down and saw that you were at one of your meetings, acting like you had nothing else to do that day." Y/N tells him as she runs a hand through her hair, "But sure, go ahead and be mad at me because I didn't tell you I was pregnant. Be mad because I left because you apparently did nothing wrong."

"Look I'm sorry-" A knock on the quickly cut him off. Y/N sent a glare his way before walking past him and opening the door. Steve watched as she squatted so she was at eye level with her-their daughter. Steve looked at Sarah, trying to memorize her face just in case this is the last time he sees her. Blue eyes that resemble his glance at him for a moment before they return to look at Y/N.

"Mama? Help?" Sarah asks, her outstretched hands covered in something sticky. The smile that Y/N gave the little girl made something rise in Steve's chest. Neither of them glance at Steve as Y/N leads her back towards the kitchen, leaving the Star Spangled Man With a Plan alone in the room. He did not know what to do with all of this information. Steve had a child, a daughter. A little girl who was fifty percent him and fifty percent Y/N. He knew he had fucked up, but didn't realize he had fucked up this bad. Steve was numb as he walked out of the pristine room, walking down a hall full of pictures of Y/N and their daughter. He leans against the wall as he watches the two of them.

"How did you get this sticky, baby? I gave you a fork." Y/N teases softly, lifting up Sarah so she can wash her hands in the sink. The little girl giggles and Steve thinks it's the best sound in the whole world.

"I sorry, Mama. 'ticky." Sarah responds, which makes Y/N laugh. Steve can't help but smile at the sight in front of him. His head quickly becomes filled with thoughts of "what if". It's not until he feels something tug on his hand, yanking him out of the various scenarios running through his head. Sarah's tiny hand is wrapped around two of his fingers. His heart swells in his chest and he suddenly understands why Tony was willing to give up everything for Pepper and Morgan. He wishes he had made the same decision.

"Go to park?" Sarah questions, looking up at him with those big blue eyes. Steve is at a loss for words and he looks up at Y/N for some sort of help. Y/N is still drying her hands off as she clears her throat.

"Sarah, I don't think Steve wants to go to the park with us. He has to go back to work." The woman tries, walking towards the two of them. Sarah looks disappointed, pouting and making a noise. Y/N glances at Steve, once more weighing the options in her mind.

"I-I have enough time. I'd love to go to the park with you-If your mom is okay with it." Steve responds and the little girl turns to look at her mom. Y/N's features soften and she nods.

"Tony called before you arrived. Said you're trying to create time travel." Y/N announces as they sit beside each other at the little park that was in her neighborhood. Sarah is running around, laughing loudly. Steve glances at the woman beside him. She knew why he had showed up on her porch but still had let him in. Y/N had every right to not let him in, to not even answer the door. Hell, she didn't have to tell him that Sarah was his, but she did.

"Yeah. Lang is pretty sure we can do it. We just need to get the team back together." Steve replies, to which Y/N just nods. Her eyes stay on Sarah, never letting the little girl out of her sight. Steve turns his head to look at his daughter, who is currently sliding down a slide as he continues, "But I understand if you don't want to. Things have...changed."

"If we have a chance to fix things, I want to be there." Y/N responds, fiddling with the necklace she was wearing. Worry was written all over her face and Steve regrets even coming out here try to get her to join them. Her eyes stay on Sarah as she runs around, "If something happens to me, you have to tell her dressed in the suit."

"W-Why?" He is confused at her request, but he wasn't going to tell her no. Steve doesn't even try to tell her that everything is going to be okay if she joins them. They both know the risks involved with their job and he'd be lying if he told her that this was going to be an easy mission. For the first time since they got to the park-Hell for the first time in four years, she turns to him and smiles.

"Because Sarah knows that her daddy is Captain America and she's been dying to meet him."

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers

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greenorangevioletgrass · 5 years ago

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Masterlist

Last updated: December 8, 2021

* indicates smut

Track my latest works in the tag #ava writes!

Follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to be notified of my latest writings!

Wanna send in a request? Check out my guidelines! [CURRENTLY CLOSED]

Buy me a ko-fi, maybe?

TOM HOLLAND:

Holland & Co. Household series (Tom x gf!reader): The two times you and Tom jokingly propose to each other, and the one time you actually think about spending the rest of your life together.

Electricity Sparks

Baby Give Me One More Chance

Mind Over Matter

One Hand, One Heart (Tom x actress!reader) series ON HIATUS Tom Holland is making his stage comeback as the romantic lead in the iconic West Side Story. Between the hard work and undeniable chemistry with his co-star, feelings ensue.

To Make You Feel My Love (Tom x gf!reader) Tom finds out his girlfriend has been faking her orgasms, and he wants to make it right.

I’ll Be Seeing You (Tom x gf!reader) In a dark time, you get a second chance at a last goodbye. Or a new beginning.

Spoil You Rotten (boxer!Tom x gf!reader)* You help Tom loosen up after a long day at the gym, in more ways than one.

Later (Tom x gf!reader) aka the importance of removing your makeup before bed no matter how horny you are. or tipsy. or both.

Art Imitates Life Imitates Art (Tom x actress!reader)* You and Tom work on an intimate scene together... and then get intimate together.

Between Fiction and Reality (Tom x actress!reader) The road to onscreen chemistry can lead to offscreen rift between you and your costar-slash-boyfriend.

Closing Time (bartender!Tom x reader)* on a slow rainy night at the pub, a flirty exchange with the bartender turns into something more. much more.

Crash Course (Tom x bi!musician!reader)* Fresh out of a breakup, Tom moves in with his childhood best friend. She teaches him a thing or two about moving on.

Wildest Dreams (Tom x domme!reader)* Tom sets out to blow off some steam at a BDSM club during the Far From Home press tour in Bali… and gets so much more.

Check out Tom blurbs & headcanons here!

PETER PARKER

From Eden* (Peter x roommate!reader) Things heat up as you and your roommate try to cool off with some ice cream during the heatwave.

Bow Down (Peter Parker x Harry Osborn x Stark!reader)* As the CEO, it is imperative that you keep your seconds-in-command in line.

Check out Peter blurbs & headcanons here!

HARRISON OSTERFIELD

NSFW Alphabet (Harrison x gf!reader)* Smutty headcanons of our favorite blue-eyed div.

Wander Down (Where The Sins Cry) (Harrison x gf!reader)* You and Harrison experiment with a vibrator, which leads to some fun times.

Angel of Small Death (richkid!Harrison) AU MASTERLIST* A series of hozier-inspired one-shots in the life of Harrison and Y/N, two heirs to merging companies who hate each other’s guts. as time progresses, so does their relationship.

Picture Perfect (Harrison x reader)* Bored and lonely while filming out town, Harrison starts sexting with a mysterious girl he met on social media. As their relationship grows, will they grow along as they go?

Make Me Feel (pornstar!Harrison x pornstar!reader)* Harrison and Y/N has undeniable chemistry onscreen and off. The question is, how long will they deny such connection and convince everyone that they're just friends?

Check out Harrison blurbs & headcanons here!

HARRY HOLLAND

The Honey Pot (mob!Harry H. x OFC miniseries)* Bel runs into Harry, a sharp young man on a night out at The Court. Little did they know, what follows after their initial sparks is far more complicated than a simple hookup.

Red Right Hand (mob!Harry H. x OFC miniseries)* After a complicated encounter, Harry and Bel try to plan an escape route as secret lovers. Unfortunately, life has other plans.

The Next Ten Minutes (stage manager!Harry H. x actress!reader)* Harry and Y/N spends ten minutes hooking up backstage, and maybe, just maybe, ten minutes isn’t enough.

Check out Harry blurbs & headcanons here!

BUCKY BARNES

Blurbs/Headcanons:

Friends with benefits with Bucky*

Flirting on morning jogs

Comforting Bucky after a nightmare

SAM WILSON

Blurbs/Headcanons:

Dad!Sam shenanigans with daughter!reader

Sam as the first guy to go down on you*

HENRY CAVILL

Pin-Up Girl (Henry x gf!reader)* Getting dolled up means Henry can’t keep his eyes-- or hands off of you.

HARRY STYLES

To Feel Good (Harry x gf!reader) Harry’s music video reminds you of a forgotten passion and happier times.

Epicurean Pleasures (softdom!Harry x gf!reader)* You and harry indulge in a racy lingerie and even racier evening.

BARRY KEOGHAN

In Agreement (Barry x actress!reader)* NEW! you and barry go through a series of interviews to promote your latest movie. little did they know, there's more to the story than what meets the eye...

DRUIG

Only Joy, Only Anguish (dom!Druig x human!reader)* It’s a nice, peaceful summer morning in your little house with druig, so naturally, you’d want to stir shit up (aka the 2 times you messed with druig, and the 1 time he made you pay for it.)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thank you for reading, guys! Do pop up on my inbox to say hi and talk about these (hopefully coherent) writings 💜

#ava writes #masterlist #tom holland imagine #peter parker imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker blurb #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson imagine #harry holland imagine

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your-eternal-muse · 5 years ago

Text

Kinda Wish She Were Dead

Heather Series Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Bonus! Readers Card Confession Series Playlist

Summery: During a night out on the town with the girls, Reader see’s something she wasn’t supposed to.

Words: 3.7k (my longest yet!)

Warnings: Swearing, a few sexual innuendos, Cheating, Mentions of Alcohol, and a fabulous right hook.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one....turn it up! Also, the song that inspired this chapter. For the meaning of the song, not that fucking boat scene.

~~~~

It’s hot.

Like “laying naked in the middle of your apartment with the air cranked and every fan blowing on you” hot.

I’m one of the lucky ones.

My old apartment was renovated to include central air a few years before I moved in.

Still, the humidity was smothering.

So why was I putting a full face of makeup on, knowing damn well I’m gonna sweat it off before the end of the night?

Because why the hell not?

It’s the first time I’ve made plans with the girls in months, and I deserve to feel pretty, even if only for an hour or two.

My therapist tells me I’m making progress.

And it finally feels like I am.

I don’t hate the day before it even starts when I wake up.

I hardly close my curtains anymore.

I’d like to say that with her help, everything went back to normal.

I go to work and come home. I hang out with my friends, water my potted plants. Talk to Spencer like I never confessed my love for him.

But it didn’t.

I haven’t really spoken to Spencer since the day I left.

I’ve wanted to.

I’ve wanted to tell him that I’m here. I’m still here. That I’m always going to be here.

That I care about him more than probably life itself.

Ever since I came back, we’ve had to work together, and we’ve had a few small conversations, but nothing like what we used to have.

I crave those conversations.

How we would bounce back and forth from idea to idea, topic to topic without so much as breaking a sweat.

The late night conversations about the probability of aliens, and life on the opposite side of the universe.

I crave him, and the intimacy he brought.

Lately though, he’s been coming to work with a sullen look on his face.

He shows up earlier, and stays later, drowning himself in his paperwork.

When her calls interrupt a caseload, he no longer eagerly picks up to hear what she has to say.

All I want to do is walk over and ask him how he’s doing. How the married life is treating him. If there’s anything I can do to help lift his spirits.

But I can’t.

I’d be overstepping a boundary I didn’t even know I created that night out on the balcony.

Knocking on my door snaps me out of my daze, and I quickly cap my lipstick, making my way towards my front door where my night stands, waiting.

JJ, Emily, and Penelope are waiting, big smiles and laughter bubbling from their lips.

I let the smile spread across my face.

“I just need to grab my shoes and then I’ll be ready.” I usher them into my hallway, running back to my bedroom to grab the pair of heels resting by my closet.

I sit on my bed, slipping them on with ease and grabbing my bag on my way out.

They all ooh and ahh when I step into the light of my kitchen, and JJ grabs my hand, twirling me in place so they can get a better look at my outfit.

“I almost forgot you had party attire, y/n.”

“God, I wish I had an ass like that. I’m older than you. That’s not fair.” Emily says, landing a playful slap against the fabric of my skirt.

“Oh stop it, you flatter me.” Once upon a time, the attention would have made me antsy. The voice in my head would whisper that they were lying to me, that they really thought I was the ugliest thing in existence.

That was then, and this is now. Now the confidence shines off of me like a spotlight.

“You deserve to be flattered, you beautiful goddess you.” Penelope says, her hands waving in the air.

I take a look in the new mirror that hangs in my hallway, and I can’t help but agree. The tight black skirt accentuates my curves, the low cut golden crop top that sticks to me like another skin puts the girls on display, and my heels give me legs for days.

I look damn good.

“Okay okay okay, pre-game selfie!” Penelope grabs her phone and holds up in front of her while we gather around.

She snaps the picture and within a few quick taps, a buzzing emits from my bag.

I dig my phone out, seeing the picture pop up in my notifications.

JJ has her arms wrapped around me, and I’m pressed to Penelope's side. Emily stands over us, one hand on JJ’s shoulder, the other on Penelopes.

I don’t think I could fake a smile like the one on my face even if I wanted to.

I save it to my phone.

~~~

If I thought being in my house, alone, with air conditioning was bad, then I shouldn't have even bothered coming out.

The bar, albeit small, was packed.

Even if there was a breeze, or any airflow at all, the combined body heat of the crowd would have swallowed it up.

I couldn’t really bring it in me to care all that much, though.

The dim lights and heat left my skin with a sexy shine, bringing attention to all the right places.

I could feel the eyes on me.

The ones belonging to men wanting to drown their sorrows in a woman like me, one who appears vulnerable, willing to go along for the ride.

It’s been a while, since I’ve had the attention of the opposite gender, especially this very specific kind of attention.

It feels good, in a way. To be wanted so openly. But it doesn’t mean jack to me, not if it’s not the pair of eyes I’ve been desperate to catch.

I should stop thinking about him.

It’s a girls night out. I don’t have to think, or worry about anything.

Besides, he’s probably busy doing other things. Thinking about me is the last thing on his mind.

I laugh and take a sip from the Shirley temple sitting in front of me, laughing as JJ recounts a story about will and a botched attempt at breakfast in bed.

I pick a cherry up from the fizzy drink, and bite the end off, relishing in the sweet flavor. I pop the stem in my mouth, twirling it around my tongue as I listen to the conversation, pulling it between my teeth and setting it down on the table in a knot.

“Oh my god. Did you just tie a cherry stem with your tongue?” Penelope is cheesing from the other side of the table, the bright pink straw of her margarita almost to her lips.

I laugh, holding it up for them to inspect.

“You know what that means.” Emily says, taking a sip from her own drink, before continuing her thought. “You, my friend, can give great head.”

A blush covers my cheek, but I cock an eyebrow. “Who told you?”

The three women burst into high pitched laughter, and I see Pen pull out her phone. She holds it up to me.

“Do it again. The internet needs to be blessed with this knowledge.”

I chuckle again, the spirit of the night enough to get me drunk off the energy. I grab another cherry from my drink, sucking the end into my mouth before popping it off, and swallowing it.

“Alright, we have one, untied cherry stem before us.” I hold out the stem for the camera to see. “Now watch as I tie it with no hands.” I stick out my tongue, placing it in the middle before closing my mouth.

I rest my elbows on the table, working my tongue around the stem, forcing it into submission to do exactly what I want.

Within 15 seconds, I pull it through my teeth, and hold up a tied cherry stem.

“Ta-da! Magic.” I place it on the table as they clap, smiles wide and goofy from their own alcoholic concoctions.

“She’s single people. And there’s a line forming so shoot your shot.” JJ is the one to speak to the camera, and I giggle, taking another sip.

Penelope brings her phone down, and within a minute my phone buzzes again, this time with the notification of the video being posted.

There are worse things to be posted on the internet about me.

“I never knew you could do that, y/n/n.” Pen says, taking a sip from her drink.

I run a hand through my hair, shrugging. “Didn’t think I needed to put it on my resume. It’s mostly a party trick I use when I like someone. I haven’t used it in years though.”

The unspoken question lingers on the air.

“No, I never showed Spencer. But I’m sure it’d blow his mind. The way that man applies math and logic to everything he does just solidifies the fact that I know he wouldn’t be able to do it.”

It’s been a while since I’ve joked about him openly, but it wasn’t forced. It didn’t hurt.

It was just a natural statement.

“Have you guys noticed that something’s up with him? He seems distant lately.” JJ says, leaning in closer so she doesn’t have to talk over the crowd.

“Okay, so it’s not just me.” I reply, playing with the straw in my drink.

“It’s gotta be something at home. I mean, he doesn’t even remotely act the way that he did when him and Heather first got together.” Emily's eyes look me up and down, reading my body language, but I’m done hiding.

I let the building anger ripple through me.

“He seems...sad. And not like, normal Reid sad where it has to do with his mom or something, no this is like..” she stops herself from continuing the sentence.

I finish it for her. “It’s like, me, sad.”

JJ sighs. “I hate to say it, but do you think it has anything to do with Heather?”

A glass shatters across the room, and like the red sea, the crowd parts.

Everything happens in no more than a couple seconds, but it feels like a lifetime.

Through the empty space, I see two people standing at the bar. The woman has her hands wound into the man's shirt, her body turned as she laughs at someone behind her, I’m assuming the one who dropped the glass.

The man has his hands gripped on her hips, smiling into her hair, before she turns back around, connecting their lips in the most disgusting kiss I have had the displeasure of witnessing.

The rage builds swiftly in my stomach and it pulses from my soul outward. The world’s tint changes and I see red.

“Even if it doesn’t right now, it will.”

When the hell did I stand up?

They stand with me, and I’m about to argue my point when Emily speaks. “You want something to record, Garcia?” She moves by me, fixing my hair, handing me her glass which holds a swig of her drink left. “Record this.”

I take it, downing it for a little liquid luck, and start for the bar, the three of them on my heels.

I profile him as best I can in the 20 seconds it takes to get through the now reforming crowd.

There’s a gold ring on his hand. His pants and shirt are dirty, and his boots are thick. He works in something having to do with construction, which means he’s probably done around 5 every night, and I know for a fact that it is way past that.

I walk up to them, grabbing her shoulder and pulling them apart, stepping in between them, getting face to face to him.

“Before you even think about laying a hand on me, my name is SSA Y/L/N of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F.B.I. From the look of your clothes and the ring on your finger, I’m gonna go ahead and assume that your wife is waiting for you at home.”

His hand instinctively falls to his back pocket.

“And since you just reached for what I’m assuming is your phone, she’s called you multiple times tonight. She knows. Now, fuck off and maybe you can salvage things with her, but believe me when I say this,” His breath smells sour. “You aren’t even half the man that she’s married to.”

He opens his mouth to say something, looking from me, to Heather, to the three women surrounding her, keeping her from leaving, and the camera pointed directly at his face.

He looks back down to me, and huffs, stepping back and walking in the other direction.

For a moment, I stare at where he stood.

And then a fire ignites in my stomach and it takes everything in me to not beat the girl standing behind me.

I turn, and lightning strikes behind her eyes.

“You’re not gonna tell him.”

“Like hell I’m not!” I take a step forward, and she takes one back, bumping into Emily who has her arms crossed, and her shoulders raised. “You know, I tried so hard to give you the benefit of the doubt, Heather. You made him happy and I honestly thought you loved him, but I realize now that he deserves someone so much better than you.”

“Oh what, someone like you?” She’s snide, her demeanor defensive and cocky at the same time. She thinks she’s gonna come out on top of this.

“You know what? Yes. Someone like me. Someone who wouldn’t even think about doing this to him, because the amount of pain that he is about to go through doesn’t even come close to the stupid fucking reward. Oh, so you slept with some douchebag because what? You’re not getting enough attention?” The words are cathartic, leaving my belly with the venom that has been brewing there for the past 2 and half years.

“I found your letter. I was right about you.”

That would have stopped me in my tracks 6 months ago. Now I don’t even flinch.

“Oh honey, it’s not a fucking secret anymore. You want to hear me say it? I love him. I am in love with Spencer fucking Reid, and the only reason that he is with you, is because I was a decent human being and could see that you made him happy, so I kept my mouth shut. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t give a flying fuck what happens now, because whatever it is, it has to be better than being with a lying, cheating bitch like you.”

“You think he’s gonna run to you? Is that what you’re hoping for? He’s not gonna believe you. And even if he did, I’d turn on the water works and make him believe it was just this one time.”

She doesn’t know she’s being filmed.

I turn to the bartender. “Excuse me, is she a regular here?”

The bartender smirks, wiping down the wood. “Yep. She comes in at least a couple times a week with that dude you kicked to the curb. They almost always leave together.”

Heather scoffs, crossing her arms. “Again, he’ll never believe you.”

“You sure about that hot stuff?” Penelope steps forward, shoving the camera in her face. “Smile for the camera.”

Heather's eyes go wide, before turning to me. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would do it for a fucking corn chip.”

I place my hands on my hips, getting so close to her our noses almost touch. My voice is dangerously low when I speak. “Either you tell him everything or I will. And trust me. I have my ways of finding out if you did.”

I step back, wishing the daggers in my eyes could inflict actual pain, as I turn to walk away.

I hear her shout in frustration before I feel her hands on my back, pushing me forward into the mass of people.

A couple people unaware of the confrontation help me back up with a smile, thinking I’ve just drunkenly tripped over myself.

Emily and JJ each hold one of my arms, making sure I’m stable, while Penelope keeps filming a look of shock on her face.

A wicked smile forms on my face.

I was hoping she’d do something like that.

I turn and my fist connects with her face, a nice cracking noise satisfying the lust building in my chest, as a thin coat of blood covers my knuckles.

Though, it’s not my blood.

She’s holding her nose in pain as she falls to the floor, taking down a bar stool with her, and I swear I see the bartender laugh.

I grab a napkin off the bar, wiping my knuckles before throwing it on the floor by her feet.

“C’mon girls. The night is still young.”

I see them cover their own smiles with their hands, and Penelope starts to giggle the shock away.

I know I should feel bad. It was unprofessional of me.

But she shoved me first.

It is, legally, self-defense.

Is it sick that I wish she would have punched me?

It doesn’t matter anyway. I know she won’t press charges. She’s smart enough to know she just dug her grave.

And now she has to lie in it.

~~~~

The atmosphere is different when I walk into the office the next morning.

It’s tense.

And one look from JJ and an inhale of air tells me why.

Spencer’s here.

I barely have time to set my bag down on my desk, before he grabs me suddenly by the arm, dragging me into a nearby conference room.

The anger is rolling off of him in waves, and I can see by the way he clenches and unclenches his fists, he is pissed.

He almost throws me into the room, slamming the door behind him.

“You want to tell me why the fuck you punched Heather in the face for no damn reason?”

Stupid, stupid girl.

Did she not think, that the way I would find out, would be from Spencer himself?

I can’t help but shake my head and laugh. “She didn’t tell you.”

“She told me that she was having a drink with a girlfriend of hers when you came up drunk, yelling at her, until you just punched her. Can you explain that to me?”

He’s finally yelling at me. After months of begging for him to yell at me, he finally is.

It doesn’t feel as good as I had hoped it would.

I don’t say anything, just pull out my phone to find the video that Garcia sent me.

“Are you serious right now, Y/N? Put your fucking phone down and explain to me why you broke my wife's nose!”

I sit in a chair, setting the phone on the table and sliding it towards him. I lean back and cross my hands over my stomach.

“Watch the video, Spencer.”

“Why? Why should I listen to anything you tell me?”

I lean forward, onto my elbow, annunciating every syllable. “Watch the damn video.”

He stands, and I watch as he fights with himself, before huffing in defeat, sitting in a chair and pulling my phone towards him.

He presses play.

I watch as his anger flows away with each passing second, despair taking its place.

This is what I wasn’t looking forward to. Seeing him see it for the first time.

Watching him break.

It wasn’t pretty.

I watch as tears form in his eyes and silently drop down his cheeks.

He clenches his jaw as he watches her shove me, and the punch that followed.

The room is dead quite when the video ends.

I’m the one who speaks first, my voice soft.

“I punched her, because she had the audacity to do this. She had the audacity to hurt you, and flaunt that fact publicly.”

I swallow, taking a breath before speaking.

“I meant everything I said in that video, Spence.”

He looks up at the nickname, his anger no longer directed at me.

“She hurt you, and I saw red. I didn’t think about what I was doing, and frankly, I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t regret standing up for you. I never have, and I never will.” I clasp my hands together, forcing myself to continue.

“I love you Spencer. I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I’m going to have to live with you finding other people and falling in love, and I promise you, I will support you in that. But not with her. Not after that. You deserve so much better than a girl who thinks she can get away with this just because she’s pretty and jealous.”

He taps a couple things on my phone, before turning the screen off and sliding it back over to me.

He stands.

I don’t. I continue talking as he walks over to me.

“You mean everything to me, Spence. If I know you’re happy, truly happy, then I’m satisfied. I will defend you until the end of the universe comes. You are my best friend, and I love you. And I’m sorry I was never upfront about it before, but I am now.”

I look up at him as he stands in front of me. “I’m done hiding from you.”

He’s still for a moment.

He reaches down and grabs my hands, pulling me up before he wraps his arms around my waist and buries himself into my neck.

I pause, but only for a moment, before wrapping my arms around him and holding him tight against me.

I can feel the wet spots on my neck as he cries, and his hands wind themselves into the fabric of my shirt.

When was the last time he was held like this?

I don’t count the time until he loosens his grip, stepping back from me and wiping his face.

I would hold him until the end of time if he let me.

“Thank you.” He whispers, before moving towards the door.

He opens it and walks out, and I grab my phone, running after him.

I stop in the doorway.

“Hey!”

He stops and turns, and the rest of the team is watching over their files.

My heart is pounding, and I feel out of breath.

“I don’t have a choice,” I let him remember. “But I still choose you.”

A small smile flutters across his face, before he turns and walks away.

I look down at my phone.

Spence xp

[Video]

Sent, 9:06 a.m.

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meliorist-midoriya · 5 years ago

Text

dating an s/o that loves plants

i wanted a bf that’ll indulge my plant obsession, and then this happened- enjoy~!

midoriya izuku

⟢ boy will catalog every single plant you have, just for you.

⟢ watering schedule? in the notebook. growth tracker? in the notebook. the cuttings’ propagation progress? in the damn notebook.

⟢ he’s going to need a shelf for these notebooks once he’s through.

⟢ he has a little pilea cutting you gave him sitting in a pot on his desk.

⟢ that thing is thriving, he treats that plant almost as good as he treats you.

⟢ you named it small might.

⟢ expect a lot of researching whenever you two go to the local plant nursery. the couple running it know you two by name now.

⟢ “y/n did you know-” “y/n look at this!” “y/n how would this look in your room?”

⟢ like a kid in a candy store.

⟢ enables your plant purchases so so much. don’t have space? he comes up with a new way to organize your plants so you can have space.

⟢ you almost burst out laughing when you see him intently taking notes on a moss ball, completely unaware of how alike the two of them look.

⟢ that picture’s your phone wallpaper now and there’s nothing he can do to change it.

⟢ this sweet boy just wants to get closer to you through your interests (and it worked).

bakugou katsuki

⟢ calls it dumb, but secretly takes care of the red prayer plant you gave him.

⟢ somehow knows more than you do???

⟢ he’s the one reminding you of your watering schedules, or when your propagations are ready to be potted.

⟢ “oi, y/n, do you want this thing to die or what?” “why does it look like shit? give it to me, i’ll do it myself.” “the roots are going to fucking rot if you leave it there for too long.”

⟢ his parents are designers, so his sense of aesthetic ended up being inherited too. he’s suddenly picking out plants for your space that you would’ve never considered, and they look amazing when you bring them home.

⟢ you ask him to hold a particularly fuzzy cactus for you, only to notice that it looks hilariously similar to your boyfriend’s own spiky hair, and now you won’t let him live it down.

⟢ baby blasty now has a permanent spot on your table, much to his chagrin.

⟢ any plant that you don’t want to get rid of but don’t have room for (or it’s doing terribly under your care) ends up finding a home in bakugou’s room.

⟢ the things are almost as finicky as him, no wonder they do so well when he takes care of them.

⟢ he’ll never admit it, but he sees why people like taking care of plants so much.

⟢ everyone notices he’s a little calmer, but will never mention it to his face.

⟢ oh he’ll rub the fact that he’s better at taking care of plants in your face any day though.

⟢ at the end of the day, he just silently supports you and your obsession hobby and makes sure the plants stay alive, because no way in hell is he letting a plant die under his watch.

kirishima eijirou

⟢ any plant that falls under his care doesn’t do well, so he just listens to you whenever you talk about plants and helps you where he can. the sweet boy just wants to support you doing what you love.

⟢ you need to move a heavy pot? he’s your man! rearranging plants? he’s got it!

⟢ he knows he doesn’t have a green thumb, so just buys you planters he thinks you’d like instead.

⟢ basically the reason your room looks like a jungle in the first place.

⟢ “babe i got you something!!” “oh my god kiri.”

⟢ you could never tell him no though.

⟢ he looks so happy when he sees them in use around your space, and who are you to ruin that?

⟢ trips to the nursery are a common occurrence since you have to buy plants to put in the pots he keeps getting you. why let his thoughtful gifts go to waste??

⟢ it just gives you an excuse to get more plants.

⟢ eventually you give him a pothos since they’re so damn hard to kill.

⟢ he takes care of that thing like his life depends on it, and it’s actually??? doing pretty okay???

⟢ you both unironically call it survivor because it’s a miracle that it’s lasted this long.

⟢ get you a man that gets you planters so you have a reason to buy more plants.

kaminari denki

⟢ look the only experience he’s had with plants is a 7th grade biology science project that he got a low C on.

⟢ but if his baby loves plants, he’s gonna love ‘em too!!

⟢ tries super hard to learn as much as he can and listen to you.

⟢ actually doesn’t do too bad with plants?

⟢ kind of a scatterbrain though, so you’re going to have to remind him every now and then.

⟢ always asking questions. are they slightly airheaded? yes. you don’t mind answering every single one though.

⟢ no, denki, venus flytraps can’t eat people.

⟢ doesn’t really trust himself enough to take care of anything by himself for a while.

⟢ he has to admit, all the plants in your room look so cool that he ends up wanting one anyway.

⟢ since the both of you are cheesy fucks, you gave him a string of hearts once he was ready.

⟢ you wouldn’t let him name it after you though, so pikachu’s currently vibing in its hanging pot right next to his window.

⟢ “you stole my heart, so have some more.” “b-babe,,,”

⟢ be still his beating heart.

#bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #my hero academia headcanons #boku no hero academia headcanons #midoriya izuku x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kaminari denki x reader #midoriya x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #kaminari x reader

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chicgeekgirl89 · 4 years ago

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Requesting Immediate Backup

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes, Andrea Reyes

Summary: Carlos refuses to admit he's sick. So T.K. is forced to call in some backup. Written for the @badthingshappenbingo prompt: This is for Your Own Good.

A/N: I have four other multi-chapter fics to work on so I wrote this instead. It may or may not be based on current and past personal experiences. Special thanks to @bluenet13 for consulting with me!

Read on AO3

T.K. had never seen his boyfriend in quite this state before, and he was torn between amusement and abject pity.

Carlos had come home from work three days ago, brow pinched, eyes tight, clearly in some kind of pain. After a significant amount of questioning he’d finally admitted to having a headache. T.K. had plied him with some OTC pain medication and sent him to bed.

Things had grown steadily worse over the last few days. First Carlos’ sinuses had completely stopped up and then he’d begun to cough and wheeze. Despite significant evidence to the contrary, he remained adamant that he was not sick. It was allergies. Nothing more.

Now T.K. watched as Carlos sniffed and snorted, shuffling around the kitchen, eyes red and watery as he searched for something in the cupboards and drawers. “Are you sure I can’t help you?” T.K. asked.

Carlos turned to glare at him, rubbing at his nose before speaking in a croaky voice. “I told you, I’m fine.”

Carlos’ breath caught and T.K. winced as he hacked out a cough so hard it sounded like his lungs were trying to leave his body. He shook his head. Enough was enough. “Babe you need to sit down.”

“I’m fi—” Carlos interrupted himself with a massive sneeze.

“You’re not fine. You have an upper respiratory infection. Probably bronchitis. And you need to sit down and let me take care of you.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” Carlos griped, finally finding the spoon he was searching for. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, I can see what a spectacular job you’re doing of that right now,” T.K. said, glancing at his watch for dramatic effect. “It just took you twenty minutes to get a yogurt.”

“I couldn’t find the one I wanted,” Carlos snapped. “You always put them in the back.”

“Wow, you are cranky when you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick!”

“Babe,” T.K. rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

Carlos pulled the blanket he was wearing like a cloak a little closer. “I’m fine.”

T.K. shook his head. “Okay. You’ve left me no choice.”

He pulled out his phone and drafted a text. “What are you doing?” Carlos asked warily.

“Texting your mom.”

“What?!” Carlos’ head snapped up and he reached for T.K.’s phone, but T.K. backed up out of his reach. “T.K.!”

“Carlos, you’re sick and you won’t let me help you. What else am I supposed to do?” He pulled back as Carlos tried to swipe his phone again and then pointed a finger at his ailing boyfriend. “This is for your own good.”

The menacing look Carlos shot his way would have been chilling if he didn’t look so incredibly pathetic. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Yeah, by choice to stay away from your germs,” T.K. shot back, but he didn’t put any heat in his tone.

His phone chimed with a text message back from Andrea. “Your mom’s coming over. She’s bringing soup.”

Carlos turned away and shuffled over to the couch, yogurt in hand. “I hate you.”

“That’s fine, as long as you live long enough to hate me tomorrow too,” T.K. called after him.

T.K. figured since he’d already pressed his luck he might as well push it a little further, so he scheduled Carlos a tele-health visit with his doctor, while his boyfrriend huddled on the couch in a blanket, sniffling and coughing and wheezing, the absolute picture of misery.

Andrea arrived within the hour, a tureen of soup in her hand. T.K. wondered if she’d somehow managed to whip it up before she drove over or if she just had that sort of thing on standby. Moms were magic like that.

“Hey Andrea,” T.K. said when he opened the door.

“Hola T.K.,” she greeted. “Thank you for texting me.” Her eyes found Carlos’ huddled form on the couch and she immediately frowned. “Ay, my poor Carlitos.”

“Mama I’m fine,” he all but moaned as she handed the soup to T.K. and moved toward him.

She pressed a hand to his forehead. “You are not fine mi amor, you’re all clammy.” She looked up at T.K. “He gets very cranky when he’s sick. Just like his father.”

“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. said, suppressing a smile as he walked the soup to the kitchen.

“I get cranky because everyone treats me like an invalid,” Carlos growled.

“Yes, we all know you are a big, strong police officer who doesn’t need any help,” Andrea said, fussing with his blanket. “I will just take my soup and go home then.”

Carlos mumbled something. “What was that mi corazón?” she asked.

“Don’t take the soup,” he said a little louder.

“I’ll heat it up right now,” T.K. said, reaching for a pot.

Carlos grudgingly attended his doctor’s appointment half an hour later, mostly because Carlos seemed to be unable to even get off the couch so T.K. just plunked the laptop down in front of him with the call already progress. With some added assistance from T.K., who listened to Carlos’ lungs and took his pulse and BP, the doctor determined it was indeed bronchitis and prescribed some extra strength cough medicine and an inhaler. Carlos was even polite to the doctor, although he went back to his cranky self immediately after they rang off the call.

Between Andrea and T.K. they managed to get a decent amount of soup and some tea into him along with some Mucinex before T.K. went out to pick up his prescriptions. By the time he got home Andrea had managed to use her special mom powers to get Carlos upstairs and into bed.

“Thank you for coming by,” T.K. said as she prepared to leave.

“Of course mi amor,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You can call me anytime my son is being a nuisance. Or any of his sisters if I’m out of town.” She thought for a second. “Maybe not Francesca,” she said, referring to Carlos’ youngest sister, who was something of a wild child. “You have Elena’s number?”

“Yes, I do,” T.K. said with a smile.

She patted his shoulder. “You take good care of my boy,” she said. “And be careful, we don’t need you getting sick too.”

“I will.”

T.K. saw her out the door and then grabbed the bag of medications and headed upstairs. At the last second he spotted Carlos’ book lying on the arm of the sofa and grabbed that too.

Carlos was bundled into bed looking slightly less miserable than before now that he’d been fed and hydrated. “Hey,” T.K. said. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Carlos said, sniffing and wiping his nose with a tissue. It was red and irritated from constant nose blowing, only adding to the pathetic-ness of the situation.

“I got your medicine. You should use the inhaler now and take the cough medicine when you’re ready to go to bed.” T.K. set them on the nightstand. “I brought your book up. Do you want anything else?”

Carlos shook his head.

“All right, I’ll just be downstairs then. Holler if you need anything.”

He turned to go but Carlos’ hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.

T.K. bit the inside of his cheek to suppress his smile. “It’s okay.”

“I’m bad at being sick,” Carlos said, looking extremely contrite.

T.K. wondered if Andrea had scolded him and told him to apologize. “Yes, I know.”

“And I don’t really hate you.”

“I know that too.”

“Do you still love me?” He flicked his eyes up nervously.

T.K. laughed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Of course. I just want to take care of you.” He brushed the curls back from Carlos’ forehead. “Even if you don’t want me to.”

Carlos fiddled with the sheets for a moment. “Are you going to sleep on the couch?”

T.K. raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to?”

Carlos shook his head.

T.K. leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Then I’ll stay.”

Carlos mumbled something. “Come again?” T.K. asked.

“Could you hold me?” Carlos said grouchily.

T.K. shook his head and bit his lip. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”

“Are you going to do it or not?” Carlos huffed.

T.K. put an arm around his waist and they both shifted until Carlos was cuddled against T.K.’s chest. “Better?” T.K. asked.

Carlos sighed a raspy, sick sounding sigh, and snuggled closer. “Yeah.”

#911 Lone Star #911 LS #Tarlos #Carlos Reyes #T.K. Strand #Andrea Reyes #Carlos whump #Sick fic #Requesting Immediate Back-Up #Bad Things Happen Bingo #This is for Your Own Good

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pathofcomet · 4 years ago

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baby i get mystified

fandom: ikemen vampire

pairing: isaac/MC (mature)

summary: His lover is strange, for she is from the future. It is to be expected. There are many things that Isaac doesn’t fully understand about her. Written for Isaac week, day 5. Prompt: Sweetness/Language. (yes both if you squint real hard) (AO3)

His lover is strange, for she is from the future. It is to be expected. There are many things that Isaac doesn’t fully understand about her: like how she prefers to steal a pair of pants of his, slaving over awkward hand-sewing, until they fit her, tasks supposedly more comfortable. How she bemoans the technology of the future, friendship at the tip of a fingertip. How hard she insists with le Comte to get a camera, and then has Isaac pose for pictures, grey hashing over their faces and clothes. It’s instant in her days, she says – and his head whirrs with what that means, the promise of progress in each of her words, in how she holds herself.

Although she’s the one that said they’re speaking a different language, it is Isaac that feels lost the most when the discrepancies of their lives becomes obvious. She sits down for breakfast next to him, and Isaac wants to say it doesn’t really feel like the day has started until he’s seen her, but he says good morning instead. She smiles at him like she understood him anyway, despite how much he’s lacking. She jogs to meet him at the entrance of the mansion, palms already open and waiting, for his coat and Isaac wants to say he’s never had someone waiting for him when he returned home, but instead he greets her, so polite that she pouts her lips and gets on her tiptoes, hand around his necktie – begging and pleading in anything but words. She moans under him and Isaac wants to say he loves her, but instead he buries his face at the crook of her neck and breathes in her smell – sweet perfume and sweat, and grounds himself to the reality of it, even when it feels so much like he’s dreaming. He opens his eyes and she’s still there, and something inside his heart becomes stronger.

He builds around what she is, what she gives. In just her underwear, blushing from head to toe as he goes around her, Isaac takes her measurements, carefully writing them down on a piece of paper for the next day at the tailors. So that when their next order arrives, there’s something in there that doesn’t resemble the dresses that she’s asked for her social obligations. He stops studying and working until way too late, knowing that she gets cold during the night – to the point that she wakes and comes searching for him, if she cannot find his warmth besides her. With her tousled hair, the blanket like a cloak over her shoulder, bare feet against the wooden floor, she looks darling.

He returns in the midst of spring with dirt under his nails and a pot precariously between his fingers, while trying very hard not to stain his research papers. He places the new plant on the windowsill to his room – not for his own pleasure, but because it joins the ever-growing collection that she has going on. Despite already tending to the garden outside, alongside Sebastian, she has brought pieces of it in here as well, maybe exactly because she knows what little time he has for nature appreciation. This is a present, proof of his appreciation for her. He waters this one himself, and slowly, with patient explanations, all the others too.

He lays in her bed, as she pushes back her hair, tying it away from her face with a ribbon. On her vanity, several glass containers, varying in size and shape, brushes clinking together in a jar, tubes glinting in the sunlight. It’s early enough in the day she asked as her own, and they’ve spent an hour just staring at each other, fingers interlaced, basking in each other’s presence. She’s told him he can get ready too, but it takes him way less than it does her, and if Isaac is to be honest, he quite enjoys the sight of her going on with her morning ritual.

He can name only a few of the products that she uses, but she catches his eyes in the mirror with each one that she picks up, and one by one, her face changes in the mirror. Isaac finds her beautiful, stunning and breath-taking no matter which version he lays his gaze upon, and he knows her preferences vary depending on the day.

No matter what, she always ends the look with her rouge. First tiny, soft streaks upon the apple of her cheeks, smiling lovingly in the mirror so she can spread it evenly with her finger. Then she opens her mouth, tongue darting out to wet her chapped lips a bit before leaning closer to the mirror, so she can apply the broader, harder strokes upon her lips. The colour goes on smoothly, and she puckers her lips, checking for stains, dabbing with her finger at the corner of her mouth. Isaac can only watch, transfixed, the entire process.

She smiles at him, caught in the act.

“You like it?”

He nods. He doesn’t trust his voice not to betray him to exactly what level he likes it, and he’s afraid the embarrassment of speaking will have him stray his eyes away from her. She gracefully gets up, the nightgown slipping off one of her shoulders. She settles next to him, coming close to him. She sprayed her perfume on already, and that’s the first thing that registers to Isaac’s brain, before she places a kiss upon his own bare shoulder.

His head snaps to her, the colour on her lips just a tiny bit faded.

“I like it too,” she whispers, and she moves to continue her marking trail.

One by one, she presses her painted lips to his skin, leaving the colour behind. A kiss mark over the skin where his heart is beating hard. Another one at his navel, and he can now properly notice it without having to strain – though it’s already more pink than red. The last one she grabs his hand, and places it on the skin of his open palm.

She barely has any left on her lips. She grins, covering it with his own hand.

“See why?” she asks, and Isaac nods, releasing his hand from her hold just so that he can move it at the back of her neck, dragging her close, clashing their lips together.

When they part, Isaac’s still dazed for the second that it takes her to hold up her lipstick in between them.

“Want to try?”

She asks like she asks anything of him, not expecting any answer, open, ready to accept whatever decision he comes to. Usually, the marks he leaves on her body are somewhat painful ones: teeth sinking in flesh, bruises around her waist – things that leave him wincing in the morning, when he discovers them beneath the sheets. Like this…

“Yes,” he says, because he can tell that only a verbal admission would have worked as proper acceptance for her this time around.

She shifts, placing one of her knees over his waist, so that she can straddle his hips, and she is polite enough not to comment on the way he stirs under her. He’s blushing already, and she’s nervous enough that her hands tremble when she takes off the cap. Her hand, gently, comes to rest at his chin, guiding his head enough that applying the lipstick is made easier. Her thumb passes over his lower lip, opening his mouth.

And then she’s closer, so close that Isaac can count her eyelashes. She’s actually really focused on her task at hand, and he stops breathing, afraid to ruin it for her. She mimics smacking her lips, asking him to do the same – and then with the brightest smile, she announces that it’s done.

He takes a deep breath, and looks at her.

“Finally.”

His hands come up, dragging at the straps of her nightgown, pulling it down with the movement, material pooling at her waist. She has time to just breath out his name, before his mouth covers one of her breasts, sucking at the skin. Her back arches, and Isaac hums, pleased. But not her pleasure is the purpose of the game, but rather –

Isaac leans back, his eyes scanning the red around her nipple: his aesthetic satisfaction. His tongue darts out, tasting out her rouge.

“Sweet,” he comments, before his lips are over her body again. The container falls from her grasp in-between the sheets.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp isaac #isaac week #ikevamp isaac newton #isaac x reader #isaac x mc #isaac/reader #isaac/mc #ikevamp fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction

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yikesharringrove · 4 years ago

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Toy Box

Part 5

Read on ao3

(No smut, but there’s a lot of sex talk)

“No, I’m telling you, it was, like, really sweet.”

“Yeah. That’s exactly the word I was looking for. Sweet.”

Steve was back on Robin’s couch.

“No, but I mean, like, with making sure I get something to eat, and like, staying in his room so I don’t have to see him, because he doesn’t want me to be uncomfortable. And then he tried to like, equal the score.”

Robin was just staring at him, her head cradled in one hand, her elbow propped on the back of the couch.

“You got it bad.” Steve scrunched up his face, pouting at her.

“I do not.”

“You’re so into him.”

“I mean, I think he’s hot, and obviously he’s like nice, but I’m not into him.” She rolled her eyes.

Billy was sitting back on their couch when Steve got home, his laptop open on the coffee table. He smiled at Steve.

Steve was slightly better around him since the night before.

He still couldn’t look him in the eye, but he could be in the same room as Billy without wanting to put his head in the doorway and slam it closed.

Which was progress.

“Hey, I was gonna text you. It cool if I smoke in here?” Steve toed off his shoes.

“Smoke like, pot?”

“Devil’s lettuce. Yeah.” He was grinning when Steve turned around.

“Knock yourself out. Just open a window or something.”

“You want some?” Billy had pulled out a cigarette case, a couple joints nestled securely inside. Steve shifted his weight from foot to foot

This was a peace offering.

Getting stoned together and maybe talking shit out.

Plus, Steve wouldn’t mind gettin’ a little high.

“You know what, sure.” He flopped down on the opposite side of the couch.

Billy lit the joint, taking two long hits before passing it to Steve.

Steve settled into the couch, taking a steady hit.

They were quiet as they smoked down the joint, let the high settle in.

“Sorry about making you uncomfortable. Not really how I pictured my living situation.”

“Sorry for being the weirdest person ever.” Billy shifted on the couch, stretched one leg between them to gently kick Steve’s leg.

“You’re not weird. I mean, it’s a weird situation.” Steve coughed out a laugh, smoke pouring out of his mouth. “I know a lot about your personal sex life now.”

“Yeah. No one has seen me like you’ve seen me that isn’t actively fucking me.”

Billy laughed softly.

“Can I ask? Like, why such an extensive collection.” Steve shrugged.

“Toys are fun.”

“You’ve got a good amount.” Steve shrugged.

“I had this girlfriend in high school, and she didn’t really like having, like, penetrative sex, you know? She said it hurt a lot for her. So we’d do all kinds of other stuff, and one day she was like, what you think about anal? And I was like, I’m down to try and she kinda got quiet as was like, and what about you being the one receiving? And explained that she wanted to try pegging and I was like, honestly, I’m down for whatever. So, first time we do it, she got two fingers in me and I was like, fuck, this is it. Since then, I’ve just been all about it.”

Billy looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Sorry. I kinda overshare when I’m high.”

“No! No, it’s totally cool.”

“I feel like you just know a lot about my asshole now.”

“You wanna hear about my dick? Even the score?” Steve looked at him.

Billy was grinning lazily, his eyes hooded. Steve felt himself smile slowly.

“Cut or uncut?” Billy took the joint from Steve.

“Uncut.” Steve raised one eyebrow.

“How long?”

“Hard, or soft?”

“Of course you know both.”

“That’s ‘cause the needy little bottoms on Grindr are always askin’.”

“On behalf of my people, hey. And hard. Hard is the only time dick size actually matters.”

“Just over seven inches.” Steve nodded slowly.

“Congratulations.” Billy barked out a laugh. “That’s an award winning hog right there.”

“Yours ain’t too bad yourself.” Steve flushed.

“For one, glorious, second, I had forgotten you walked in on me.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“It’s okay.” Steve took another hit, the joint beginning to burn down to the filter. “I think the worst part was the position. If I had just like, been one my back or something. But no. I had to be fuckin’ upside down.”

“I’ve fucked someone in that position before. I think it’s a fan favorite.”

“You get really deep, and like, you can see it, which is hot. And then you end up cumming on your own face, which is like, all kinds of dirty.”

“So, you’re like, a sub then, too.”

“Mostly. I was fucking around with this one guy, and he liked it when I dommed him, so I would like, tie him to the bed and ride him and stuff. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love submitting, but that was pretty fun, too.”

“When you said you like it all, you really like it all.” Steve shrugged.

“If it feels good and everyone’s comfortable, what’s not to like?” Billy offered him the last hit, and Steve took it, putting out the smoldering roach in the ash tray Billy had no doubt set out. “Although I’m at the point where I can’t really cum unless there’s something up my ass. So like, on the off chance I do top, I gotta wear a plug or something.”

“Really?” Billy was appraising him. Steve just nodded.

Billy just smiled.

“Not to like, make this weird, but you do realize you just made eye contact with me, right?” Steve felt his face go hot.

“Don’t get used to it. Once I wake up tomorrow, I’m gonna regret telling you all of this, and go right back to begging for death every time I come within ten feet of you.”

“Oh, come on,” Billy groaned dramatically. “Quit bein’ so embarrassed! A sex toy collection is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“It is when it’s fuckin’ huge. And most of the toys are massive. And you’ve got five, five different monster cocks.”

“Five? Really? I only saw the two.”

“So I’ve got the tentacle one that you saw, and the big curvy red one that was on the floor that first day, I’ve also got a pointy kinda dragony one, a werewolf one with a bit knot at the bottom, and the demogorgon one, which is the biggest toy I have. I don’t use it a lot. Takes a while to work up to.”

“Yeah. I could, uh, see why.” Billy was grinning at him. “That’s quite a collection.”

“Hey, they’re the best ones I own. It’s not really about the whole, monster thing, for me, I mean, it can be, with the right fantasy, I guess. But, it’s more just the crazy shape and textures and stuff. You don’t get that in a lot of other companies. It just feels good.”

“Hey, you don’t gotta explain shit to me.”

“Yeah, but I’m absolutely zooted so I’m gonna over explain and overshare my little heart out.”

“You wanna watch a movie? I was gonna watch Legally Blonde.” Steve gave Billy a look. “What? It’s a good fuckin’ movie.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m down for that.”

Steve went off to his room, re-emerging a few minutes later with the comforter off his bed, his jeans swapped out for a pair of shorts.

He flushed when he noticed Billy watching his thighs.

#zest of lemon #i mean i could tag this as lemon but jsut like #let me know #yikes write #toy box #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

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marvelslut16 · 5 years ago

Text

Loving Jack

Jack Castello x reader

Synopsis: You meet Jack Castello while you both take classes at Ace studios. As you get to know him you fall in love with him. But he’s married, he can’t possibly love you back. So what happens when he arrives on your door step in the pouring rain with news that changes everything?

Word count: 2,534

Warnings: Talks of cheating, cross burning/KKK

A/n: I absolutely loved Hollywood and fell for Jack Castello. Sorry if this sucks, I just really wanted to write it. Also, as much I love Claire, she isn’t in this. SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE SEASON. I also made a shitty dreamland reference, whoops. I know the title is bad, but I had no idea what to name it.

His soft delectable lips were pushing hard on yours, his tongue roughly parting them so he could get a better taste of you. Reaching up, you card your fingers through his dark mussed hair, pulling hard on the ends. The action elicits a soft groan from him, spurring you on. You lightly suck on his tongue, his grip on your hips tightens, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. You gasp as he pulls his mouth away with a loud pop, his lips make their descent towards your neck, but they never land. Instead, a knock wakes you from your dreamland.

You let out a long drawn out sigh as you push yourself from your bed, who could possibly be bothering you this late at night? You grab your dressing gown, the cool silk a nice contrast to your overheated body. You tie the robe nice and tight, and turn on the lights as you walk through the house. You throw the front door open to yell at the person bothering you, but the words die in your throat at the view.

Standing on your front porch is Jack Castello, a very drenched one at that. His eyes are red and puffy, tears still falling, mixing with the rain that has him soaking to the bone. Your heart breaks at the sight, who would do this to him?

“Can I come in?” his low voice breaks at the end. You can see that he’s trying to stay strong, trying not to show the full extent of his pain.

“Of course!” you grab his hand and gently pull him in when he doesn’t move right away. “I’ll go make us some coffee! Take off your coat, or you’ll catch a cold,” you call as you make your way to the kitchen of your modest home.

You have been a contract player at Ace pictures for years, never making your big break. But now, now you finally get a supporting part, all of your hard work has finally paid off. You got the role as Meg’s best friend, quite fitting since you became best friends with Camille since meeting her in one the acting classes.

Ace pictures is also how you met the man standing in your living room, leaving a puddle on the carpet beneath him. The moment you saw Jack you were attracted to him, but the moment he spoke to you with those big eyes full of wonder, your heart became his. Your heart didn’t care that he was married and had twins on the way, all it cared about was the way his whole face lit up when he smiled, or how every time you ran lines with him he would compliment you and tell you how amazing and talented you are.

You never acted on those feelings, of course. You would never steal another woman’s man, it’s wrong- immoral. A surprising and naive view to have in this town. It didn’t matter how much it hurts, watching him fiddle with his wedding ring every day, wishing you were the one he’d go home to every night and kiss goodnight. It didn’t matter how you felt, not even after he admitted to you in a drunken stupor one night after running lines that he didn’t actually love his wife. None of that mattered, not the heartbreak or the loveless marriage, you would not be the reason he started cheating on his wife again. And, you valued yourself more than that. You would never be the other woman.

While you’re off in your thoughts, you don’t hear Jack enter the kitchen behind you. He shifts a little behind you, causing his worn out chuck taylors to squeak on the linoleum flooring. Neither of you say anything, neither of you know what to say. Your friendship had never been awkward with Jack, and yet the uncomfortable tension in the room is suffocating. You turn to look at Jack as the coffee starts to drip slowly into the pot behind you.

Jack took his coat off like you told him to, leaving him in a tight white wife beater, the rain causing it to cling tighter to each rippling muscle. The wife beater is tucked into his wet black slacks, wrapping gorgeously around his thighs, highlighting just how strong he is. Last but not least, his silver cross hangs over his heart, the metal chain sticking to his wet skin as well. There was no denying that Jack Castello would be the newest heartthrob when Meg comes out.

“If I had clothes that would fit you,” you break the silence, grabbing his jacket from his arms and draping it over the back of one of your chairs. “I would throw your clothes in the dryer for you.”

“I’m gettin’ a divorce,” he finally says why he’s at your house in the middle of the night, flopping into the chair his coat is hanging off of. The distraught look on his face makes you not care that his wet trousers are going to ruin your wooden seat. “The babies, they ain’t mine. The guy she worked with, the one I didn’t trust, they’re his.”

“Oh sweetheart,” you push off the counter you’re leaning on and drop to your knees in front of him. You reach up, grabbing his hands that are limp in his lap, gently running your thumbs over the back of his cold hands.

He may not have been in love with her, but he would always care for Henrietta. And then it hits you, she cheated first. He confided in you about the gas station at the beginning of your friendship, said he only did it to support his wife and twins. He had told you about how angry she had gotten when she found out he was cheating, the nerve!

“She thought I would figure it out, thought I would realize there was no way they could be mine. She said I made her feel terrible. Am I a bad person?”

“No, honey,” you let go of his hands and instinctively grab his face, gently moving his head so he’s looking you in the eyes. “You could never be a bad person. You two just didn’t work, you both want different things. Jack, you're the most amazing person I have ever met, you're so kind and caring. You’re amazing Jack Castello.”

He closes his eyes and leans into your right hand, and you want to cry. His skin is cold and damp under your touch, a new set of tears bubble to the surface and spill onto your hands. You stand from your kneeling position and sit in the seat beside him, and before you can hug him, he stands and pulls you tightly to him. Your flush against him, he smells of rain and cigarettes, and the way his strong arms wrap around your waist is all you can focus on. You can’t bring yourself to care that your silk robe is now soaked in the front, you just want to make him feel better. Ignoring both parties wet garments, the two of you sip nice hot coffee and talk for hours.

After some arguing, he insists that he can’t take your bed from you, so you give him your comfiest blanket and best pillow so he can get a good night's sleep on the couch. You're finally drifting off for the second time that night when you smell smoke, but your dream induced mind twists it into a barbeque at Ace studios. You’re grabbing some food and joking with Jack as the smell gets stronger, smoke wafting through your open windows. Jack runs into your bedroom, clad only in his underwear that reveal just how generous his package is, frantically trying to wake you up.

“(Y/N),” he shakes you nervously.

“Hmm?” you groan out, rolling to the side and away from his loud voice.

“There’s a fire!” you jolt up at the words, fully awake now. Ignoring the delicious sight of an almost naked Jack in your bedroom, you run to the front of your house, not caring about grabbing your robe this time.

Your blood runs cold at the sight in front of you, gasping, you back away from the window. Right there in your front yard is a burning cross, you continue backing up until you bump into Jack’s warm chest. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your front and pulls you tighter into him. Letting out a sob, you turn in his arms, burying your face in his bare chest. It’s a warning, your life is in danger. And for what? Because people didn’t believe in progress and equality? For being a part of a picture that deserves to be made, a picture with a fantastic script and an even better message.

“Put your clothes on,” you push him away as the wailing of sirens grows near. You quickly grab your robe and throw it on before walking out to meet the firefighters and police.

At the studio the next day Jack won’t let you out of his sight. And you don’t know who it’s for, you or him. Not caring what people will say or think, Jack demands that he stay with you for the next few months. Just until all of the hatred and protests die down. He doesn’t think the security the studio is supplying will be enough, he doesn’t like the thought of you being the only one in the targeted group alone.

And for the next few months you grow closer to Jack, creating a false domestication. You’ll wake up and cook him breakfast, and he’ll fix anything that isn’t working properly. With each passing day you lose more and more of your heart to the aspiring actor, and what you have left continues to crack. He could never love you, he would never see you that way.

Before you know it, security isn’t necessary, and Jack goes back to his apartment. Henrietta gives birth to the twins and moves to Indiana. The divorce is finalized, and you’re back to living your hollow empty life again. Yeah, you have a job you love. But what's success with no one to share it with? You miss walking to the kitchen every morning and making breakfast for two, waking Jack up and finding the little bit of drool dripping onto the pillow. Your house feels empty, you feel empty. Was this what Peg felt like when she decided she wanted to end it all?

You try to distance yourself from Jack, hoping that with less time spent with him the pieces of your heart would return and repair themselves. But your actions only cause more pain, yours and Jack’s. Archie’s on your case, complaining to you that Jack is always whining that you’re ignoring him. Camille is trying to figure out what happened, wanting to know why in between takes you always seem so sad now. You’ve gotten good at avoiding Jack, knowing when not to get food because you two used to go together, and which route out of the studio to take.

Until one day you arrive home after a long day to Jack sitting on your doorstep. He has his head in his hands, messing up his slicked back hair. He’s wearing his black slacks and a short sleeve white button up, the picture of handsome. Your heart starts to race, and you aren’t sure if it’s out of fear or desire.

“Jack, what are you doing here?” your voice is softer than you anticipated it would be, his head snaps up to look at you when you start talking.

“Do you hate me?” his blue eyes full of pain and confusion instead of their typical optimism and wonder. He lurches forward, kneeling in front of you and gripping the bottom of your skirt tightly. “Let me fix whatever I did, please.”

“Stand up,” you talk through your teeth, keenly aware of the looks you're getting from your nosy neighbors. “We’ll talk about this inside.”

He flashes you his megawatt smile, causing your heart to stutter. He jumps to his feet and watches you closely as you unlock the door. As soon as the door is open, he has his large warm hand on the small of your back, guiding you inside and away from the prying eyes and ears. You take a few steps before turning to face him, jumping when you see that he’s practically on top of you still.

“What did I do?” his voice cracks, much like the first night he showed up on your doorstep.

“N-nothing,” you stutter, backing up to put space between you. You don’t trust yourself not to just throw your arms around him and give him a big smooch.

“Then why are you avoiding me?” your heart starts to break at how crushed he looks, and the weight of the pain you’ve caused the both of you comes crashing down.

“I love you,” the words come out in a breathless rush. You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t see that he doesn’t feel the same, so you stare at the ground.

“I love you too,” he says it like it's the most obvious statement in the world.

“No Jack, I’m in love with you,” it’s your turn to have a voice crack. You hear his step forward, his dirt stained white converse appear in your view. His warm hand gently caresses your cheek, causing you to melt into it without a second thought. He gently tips your head back so you’re staring into those gorgeous pools of blue.

“I’m in love with you too,” he admits, more confident and sure of himself than ever before. “I think I have been since I met you.”

A tear trickles down your cheek at his confession, his thumb quickly wipes it away. His lips make their descent on yours for the first time in real life, your heart beats fast and hard against your rib cage. Until it stutters to a brief stop when his soft, warm, lips land on yours. His hands move to hold onto your waist, and yours quickly tangle themselves in his hair.

Your action spurs him on, he gets up enough courage to run his tongue across your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You deny him at first, teasing him until he splits your lips apart on his own. You sigh as his tongue invades your mouth, the taste of tobacco and the feel of him exploring your mouth is all you can concentrate on. Your knees go weak at this new and amazing feeling, luckily his strong arms keep you standing. You, regretfully, pull back when the burning in your lungs becomes too much.

He’s grinning at you like a madman, placing kisses all over your face; your forehead, your left cheek, the tip of your nose, your right cheek, your chin. You can’t help but laugh at his silly antics, you love this man more than you ever thought humanly possible.

“I love ya, (Y/N/N),” he leans his forehead on yours.

“I love you too,” you bridge the gap, and kiss him once more.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny

People who took an interest in me writing this: @elleclairez @antoouu

#jack castello x reader #jack castello #hollywood #hollywood netflix #david corenswet #jack castello x you #jack castello imagine #hollywood imagine #jack castello one shot #hollywood one shot

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