#distracting myself from one stressful thing with another stressful thing is not helpful | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xveenusx · 1 year

Text

You

Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Request- John b's little sister grew up with JJ. Both boys are protective of her but when John B and Sarah leave on the boat, she only has JJ. She realizes she has feelings for him, not knowing he feels the same.

Authors note: I decided I could give you guys a sprinkle of fluff and slight smut after the last two pieces! This takes place at the beginning of season 2 where they believe Sarah and John b are dead.

Also, someone complained about the length of my pieces. I know they’re long but it’s just my writing style. I like for the readers to feel what the main character is feeling. If the length bothers you, then don’t read it!

_______________

Angry.

That’s how I felt.

At myself. At my dad. At John B.

When we first lost our dad, it didn’t feel real. I waited outside on the steps of the chateu hoping to see him come back on his boat. Suddenly, hours turned to days which turned into months and the hope that filled my chest shrank bit by bit until I no longer sat outside.

Instead, John B and I did what we could. After successfully evading CPS, we decided it was best to lay low. That was the thing about us, we always managed to make the best out of a shitty situation because let’s face it, being born on the cut was shitty situation after shitty situation.

Unfortunately, it felt like the stress had finally caught up to me. Being surrounded by unfamiliar people caused a bitter sense of panic to fill my very core. My anxiety had amplified tenfold as the once out going girl became completely sheltered.

It was safer that way. At least, if I isolated myself, losing someone else won’t hurt as bad as this. Because as long as I had my brother, everything else was manageable.

Losing my dad was tough, almost impossible but at least I had John B.

Until, I didn’t.

It didn’t hit me until I saw the boat capsize with my brother and Sarah in it. I was truly an orphan, in every sense of the word.

My knees had given out as every emotion crashed into my body like a violent tsunami. A silent scream leaving my body as I could no longer hold myself up.

Familiar arms caught me just as I was about to hit the floor, the rain pounded into my skin like thousands of needles. As I drew in a sharp breath, my voice impossible to find, a delicate smell of sex wax and salt filled my nose.

JJ.

“Please breathe. I need you to take a b-breath,” He pleaded, his voice shook in obvious grief. He had just lost his brother too.

I couldn’t seem to do what he was asking. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing for this nightmare to end, but thought after thought slammed into my head repeatedly. My chest squeezed tightly, so tight that I began to claw at it, desperate to relieve the tension.

Yet, nothing seemed to work. I could see him now, his image blurred due to the tears falling from my eyes. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear anything.

My fingers slowly started to cramp due to the lack of oxygen from my inability to calm down. The tidal wave known as anxiety pulled me deep, my vision slowly becoming black before my unconscious body falls limp in the arms of my brother’s best friend.

_________

I hated this sign.

My eyes glared at the makeshift headstone my friends made for Sarah and John B that was carved into the tree.

It served as another reminder that my brother left me.

I’ve become close friends with anger and sadness.

Our friends tried to give me a sense of stability and normalcy, one that I’ve been lacking since the moment our dad died. Kie always stopped by bringing left overs from her parent’s restaurant. Pope would help me with my homework and go over scholarship options. I knew he was trying to help me plan for the future, but we both knew he was the only one that could really get out. I welcomed the distraction and tried to enjoy the small bubble I’ve created for myself.

And then, there was JJ.

JJ was special.

He all but moved in to the chateau, never leaving me alone in my thoughts for too long. He took up a serving job at some kook club to feed us and always brought me with him. I would sit in a small corner throughout, his shifts and enjoy his company.

In a way, I think it was for him just as much as it was for me. We had both bonded over the loss of my brother and it caused an invisible string to tether us together in a way that almost felt intimate.

I blew out a breath.

Standing up, I wiped off the dirt from my thighs and flexed my hands. JJ was on his way to pick me up and take me to the annual bonfire here on the island.

When he asked me, my first reaction was an immediate no. I had avoided going near large groups of people since they believed my brother to be a murder, therefore, making me guilty by association. Just the thought of surrounding myself around those people made my skin itch.

But I also knew that we were both desperate to feel the closest thing to normal that we could find.

What he didn’t know was that feeling of normalcy could only be achieved when he was with me. Breathing was easier when he was with me, living was easier.

The familiar sound of a bike engine caused my stomach to flutter with nerves.

“You ready?”

Inhaling deeply, I turned around to see JJ leaning against his bike looking every bit as handsome as the first time I laid eyes on him. He was grinning, something he reserved just for me, with a toothpick on one side.

If he was here, then I’d be able to do anything.

“I go where you go.”

JJ’s blue eyes shined at my words. He shot me his infamous smirk that nearly caused the butterflies in my stomach to erupt.

“You got that right. Get on the bike, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

My brain was my biggest enemy. It had a tendency to disrupt whatever sense of peace I had and destroy it with every self sabotaging thought I’ve ever had.

In this case, my brain wanted to know just how many girls sat there before me.

Noticing my hesitation, JJ raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “What’s up?”

“I just don’t want to get cooties from all the girls you let on this thing.”

He rolled his eyes. “Get your ass on the bike.”

My feet moved towards the bike as I mumbled under my breath. Stopping in front of him, JJ brushes some loose strands of my hair out of my face before grabbing the helmet that was on the seat.

I reached for it but JJ shoved my hands away, shooting me a flat look. Huffing, I stood there as JJ placed the helmet on my head, tightening the strap under my chin.

“Why do I have to wear a helmet and you don’t?”

“Because you matter.” His response was immediate.

Speechless, I said nothing more as he continued with the unnecessary pampering before he finally let me on the bike. Revving the engine, JJ kicks up the stand before reaching behind and grabbing my arm, settling it around his waist. He tapped my thigh twice to signal we were going and we took off.

I clung to his body, watching as the greenery blurred into one large mass, my thoughts doing the same.

You matter.

But what did that mean? What did it mean to him? What did I mean to him?

Because, I knew exactly what he meant to me.

There were small moments we shared. Our eye contact would stay on each other for a beat too long or his hands would linger just a minute longer than normal.

I knew, at least for me, our friendship had reached a very blurred line. My feelings for him seemed to consume me but I couldn’t tell how he felt. No one ever could, JJ didn’t let them.

He would say things like this that would completely throw me out of the loop. So we settled into a routine, one that resembled a relationship yet we weren’t in one.

The familiar cackle of the fire and shouts of excitement signaled that we were close to the party. Unease leaked into my bloodstream as I flexed my fingers into JJ’s shirt, the nerves sky rocketing.

JJ parked next to some truck but my focus was broken. My eyes jumped all over, taking in the scene all while trying to remind myself to breathe. People were shot gunning while others were playing beer pong, kooks and pouges alike.

Everyone was laughing and smiling, but it all seemed foreign to me. This was what I used to do, when things weren’t as complicated and dark as they were now. It felt almost wrong to go dancing and drinking when my life was in shambles.

A small touch to my wrist pulled me out of my thoughts as I turned to face JJ. A look of concern painted his face as he pressed his fingers against my wrist, checking my pulse.

“JJ, I’m fine.” I said exasperated but secretly, I adored how he took care of me. It made me feel like to him, I was different than all the other girls.

I just couldn’t decipher if he took care of me out of obligation to John B or because he actually cared for me.

He picked up this habit after I passed out in his arms. JJ always brushed his fingers against the inside of my wrist, just to double check that I wasn’t going to pass out again.

My anxiety was yet another monster I had to tackle after I lost John B and JJ was the only one that could calm me down. He weighed me down like an anchor.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his fingers lifting my chin causing my eyes to meet his.

His gaze ran over every inch of my face before a small satisfied smile played his lips.

“Do you believe me now?”

JJ shot me a wink, before cupping my face gently. “I’ll be back with tequila, don’t move.”

A small laugh left my mouth. “JJ, I don’t hang out with anyone else.”

“I’m all you can handle anyways, baby.”

My stomach dipped at the term of endearment. Laughing it off, I shooed him away and within seconds people were calling out his name, tugging him into their groups.

He seemed relax—happy even—to be surrounded by familiar people that I’m sure made him feel normal. I wanted him to have that, god, did I want him to have that.

So I ignored the nausea that nipped at my throat and spent the next five minutes looking around, hoping to spot Pope or Kie with no luck.

JJ deserved some time that didn’t involve watching me.

Only, I didn’t expect him to disappear for the rest of the night.

Hours later, I pushed passed the sweaty, overheated bodies as the bass of the music trembled through the air rattling my chest. The mass of bodies caused a layer of sweat to cover my body the further I went into the crowd. Intense rap music was being blasted instantly getting a reaction by the drug induced people around me.

Just by a simple sweep of the overcrowded property, I gave it a solid half hour before the cops showed up.

A large figure stumbled into me, beer sloshing onto my top. I gasped, stepping back slightly wincing at the cold liquid dripping down my stomach.

"Sorry," He slurred before stumbling back into the mosh pit of raging teens.

A familiar laugh rang out and almost immediately my body reacted to it. It was odd. After years of hearing his voice and his laugh, you would think I'd have gotten used to it by now, but no.

The effect he had on my body left me stunned.

My eyes were drawn to him instantly. I blocked everything else out.

His head was tilted back as he belted out another laugh. JJ was leaning against a wall with a hand holding a beer bottle loosely and the other moving as he spoke animatedly to the group that surrounded him.

His sun touched skin complimented his bright blue orbs that shined with a child-like wonder. JJ’s golden colored locks were thick and fell into a messy heap on his head, loose strands brushing against his forehead.

The black cut muscle tee he wore displayed every muscle as he continued to move his arms to accompany his storytelling.

JJ Maybank was a sight for sore eyes.

He was still talking rapidly when he glanced up and locked eyes with mine. JJ’s ocean eyes shined as he shot me a megawatt smile nearly sending me to my knees. He stopped mid-conversation and motioned for me to come over, his eyes once again gleaming with a unspoken level of affection.

I remained frozen. Sometimes this happened. I got overwhelmed by just how much I needed him.

JJ managed to knock me off my feet a solid five times a day. Each time welcomed even more than the last.

He bit his lip, stopping a smile as he bid his friends goodbye and began walking over to where I stood, running a hand through his hair messily.

I opened my mouth, not knowing what to say when a manicured hand rested itself on his stomach, stopping him in his tracks.

“Haven’t see you in awhile. Where ya been?”

Stacey Williams had this thing about her.

What it was, I couldn’t say, but it was enough for JJ to keep going back for more. She was the only other girl in his life that he gave a fraction of his attention to.

That fact alone made me nervous.

Just walk away, JJ. Please just walk away.

Instead, he took a seat next to her and shot her smile that was reserved for me.

People stumble between us, blocking my view but I could still hear them conversing.

“You know me, Steis. I’m here, I’m there. Just doin’ me.”

She let out a giggle causing me to roll my eyes. He’s really not that funny.

“You haven’t been answering my calls. I figured, tonight you could come over and we could talk.”

My stomach tied itself in knots at the silence on his end. It was almost like he was contemplating going.

“I -I can’t tonight. I came with John b’s sister.”

I winced. That’s all I was to him?

I could see Stacey lean forward and slip her hand along the open slit of his muscle tee. “She follows you around like a lost puppy, JJ. It’s almost sad if it wasn’t so weird.”

I saw him shake his head. “It’s not like that, we’re both just dealing with everything the best way we can.”

Stacey rolled her eyes before she took a sip of her drink, “JJ, your hot but please tell me you’re not that blind. The girl is basically in love with you.”

Judging by the way JJ froze, I now knew that I misjudged every interaction we’ve had to this point. He didn’t even notice how I felt.

“What-I mean-no. She’s just a girl that needs help. I mean, come on. She’s just John B’s sister.”

The only thing more humiliating than finding out the person you want doesn’t want you, is finding out they were only there for you because of an obligation.

I wasn’t special to him. I was just John B’s little sister.

I think another part of me died right there, because yet again, I have lost another person I loved.

But this time, he wasn’t gone, no—he was right in front of me, but he might as well have been a million miles away or six feet under.

Eavesdropping is the quickest way to a broken heart. Words not meant for your ears strike your heart in a brutal assault until nothing remained.

Finally, the crowd that separated us moved and I stood there stupidly staring at him.

Feeling the weight of my gaze, JJ turned his head and his eyes widened before settling into a look of guilt.

I tore my gaze off of him and looked at her. The smug smile she wore told me she intended for me to hear what he had said.

My face heated, and I glanced down at the drink in my hand. How could I be so fucking stupid?

Ignoring the sickening twists in my stomach, I tossed back the strong liquor in my cup. The burning trail the tequila left is the feeling I decided to focus on.

Spinning around, my eyes searched for another cooler, desperate to keep the burning feeling going.

“Shit-Wait,” I could hear JJ shouting for me but I kept moving.

Finding a handle of tequila, I flicked the top off and took a pull. The bitter burn fell over my body with a fuzzy warmth.

JJ knocks the bottle out of my hand.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“Since when do you drink like that?” He asked.

“Go away, JJ. I don’t need you to babysit me anymore.”

“Listen, if this is about what I said-“

“You’re free, JJ,” my voice trembled with pain,” You don’t need to waste any more of your time on me.”

I grabbed a red solo cup, sniffing the contents, and just as I was about to chug it back, his hand slaps it out of my own.

“Will you stop fucking drinking that-“ JJ’s baby blues narrowed as he growled at me.

“What are you, my dad? You’re taking this baby sitting gig a little too seriously.”

It was, then I noticed how many eyes were on us. The music was still blasting, but no one was dancing.

My breathing picked up at the sudden attention. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand to distract my body from the ever growing panic that plagued my body.

JJ’s eye clock in on my nervous tic causing his glare to soften. A figure approaching pulled my focus off of him.

Topper strides over with a drink in his hand and a lazy smile. “Hey man-“

“Top, your wearing sandals bro. Step off.”

“I’m just saying man, she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

JJ’s eyes darkened as a threatening smile slowly graced his lips. “Wanna run that by me again?”

“I forgot that you pouges are missing a couple brain cells,” Topper lolled his head to the side and shot me a wink, “Since you’re clearly a bit slow, I’ll spell it out for you. She. Doesn’t. Want. To. Talk. To. You.”

“I dont remember you being this cocky with a gun to your head.” The words were spoken softly but the threat was clear.

A storm brewed in JJ’s eyes as the bright blue was replaced by something much darker.

My heart jumped at his tone and the look in his eyes made me swallow hard. Disgust filled me as heat began to build between my legs forcing me to press my thighs together.

Hands up on surrender, Topper shot me a look before heading back to his friends. JJ’s eyes stayed on him for a beat ensuring that he wouldn’t come back.

When he was satisfied, JJ moved towards me in quick strides making me yelp in surprise.

His ring covered hand grasped my upper arm and tugged me back to his bike. I shrugged out of his hold and crossed my arms across my chest, hoping it’ll keep a safe distance between the two of us.

I couldn’t think clearly when he was close.

“Listen-“

“No thanks.”

“If you would just-“

“Go away.”

“Can you please stop acting-“

“Why don’t you go back to Stacy? I’m sure she’d find this conversation enlightening.” I spat, shoving his reaching hands away.

“I dont want to talk to Sta-“

“Are you sure? You seemed to have a lot to say be-“

“Jesus Christ, would you just shut up?” JJ shouted with his hands in his hair.

My mouth opened and closed in shock.

“You’re the most frustrating person on this fucking island.” He growled, shaking his head in false amusement.

“Then why are you still talking to me?”

“Because it’s you.”

Throwing my hands up in defeat, I let out a bleak laugh. “What does that even mean? Stop pretending you care. Stop pretending to be my-“

“I wasn’t pretending.” He shook his head, the blue orbs pleading for me to understand,”Stacey was just saying shit to get a reaction-“

“She wasn’t wrong.”

He stopped talking and stared at me, almost confused.

My body trembled slightly with nerves as I prepared to finally expose every bit of my heart to the blue eyed boy in front of me.

“What she said—about how I feel about you. She was right. Anybody with two fucking eyes can see how I feel about you, except for you.”

I furiously wiped my eyes stop the tears from falling. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“But now I know you only see me as John B’s little sister. It’s just humiliating that you chose to say that to Stacey instead of me.”

I was going to throw up. My stomach churned and swayed but I swallowed down the urge.

JJ let out a harsh sound, “I feel fucking guilty, okay? I feel guilty that I don’t see you the way I should. John B was my best friend and now I’m falling for his sister? It’s eating at me.”

“Then leave-“

“Shut up,” He snapped. “You’ve already got to say what you wanted. It’s my turn.”

My throat tightened as I braced myself for his confession.

“I look at you and I have to stop myself from kissing you even though it’s all I can think about.”

His eye contact seared into my very soul. I could feel it pierce my pounding heart.

“So you aren’t the only one that feels something.”

My heart was in my throat as I processed his words.

“But you said-“

“I lied.” He cut me off with a shrug and advanced towards me, clearly fed up with the distance I placed between us.

In a last ditched effort, I put up my hands to stop him in his tracks. I needed to think. I needed to breathe.

“Don’t touch me.” The plea itself was weak at best.

At the sound of my sob, JJ ignores my demand, and shoves my hands away, despite my weak attempt to keep him out of my space.

Instantly, his fingers curl themselves along my wrist and take note of my pulse. He let out a distressed sound from what I can only assume is the pounding of my pulse and whispers soothing words.

Taking in gulps of air, he slowly counts me down to a manageable pace of breathing. My shaking slowly begins to subside and my very focus is just on him.

Resting his forehead on mine, JJ whispers pleadingly, “Please stop crying.”

Another kiss lands on my nose. “I’m sorry.”

His request along with his sweet pleadings, causes my defenses to crumble down. Another sob tears from my chest as I relax into his embrace.

“I didn’t mean it.” He muttered, brushing my tears away with his thumb.

“Then why did you say it?” My words were soft, barely a whisper.

“Because she’s not important enough to know how I feel.”

Our eyes were glued to each other, a deep unknown longing singeing us together.

“You said I was just some girl.”

JJ tilted my head up, his fingers trailing softly along my bottom lip, “I meant my girl.”

“I have a lot of baggage,” I gave him one more shot at leaving.

“Good thing I have a truck.”

“But she-“

He shook his head, leaning down so there’s just a sliver of space between our lips, so close that we were inhaling each others breaths.

“You’re the only one I want.”

JJ bent down, his arms circling themselves directly below my ass, and picked me up causing me to shout out in surprise.

My hands curled onto each of his arms, my stomach fluttering at the flex of his muscles. He set me on the seat of the bike, his large calloused hands gripped my upper thighs tightly sending a wave of heat right to my core.

JJ’s half lidded eyes dart between my gaze and my lips. “Tell me to stop.”

The words never crossed my lips.

He let out a sound of satisfaction, tugging my legs open to stand in between them.

His ring covered fingers danced along the strands of my hair before nesting themselves at the root, gripping the nape tightly, "You’re mine.”

Heat instantly swarmed my belly as I drastically tried to collect my thoughts. My lips trembled as he hovered over me, his figure towering over my small frame.

JJ swiped his tongue along my parted lips before biting gently. Instantly, my body jolted forward and we were chest to chest, perfectly aligned.

My grip on his biceps tightened as I tremble with anticipation.

Finally, he pressed his lips to mine, slowly guiding our kiss. Gripping my hair tighter, he tilts my head sliding his tongue inside.

A small whimper escaped my lips causing a groan to erupt from him. Almost lazily, he pulled back slightly and pulled my bottom lip into his, sucking softly.

White hot lust seared itself into my blood. I let out a whine and pushed myself up, pressing my lips to his, desperate for another taste of JJ.

My blood was pounding in my ears as I tugged him closer. Almost lazily, I teased his mouth open and slid my tongue inside. Humming with desire, I gently sucked on his tongue causing him to flex his grip on my thighs.

JJ pulled back giving me the opportunity to catch my breath. His fingertips left a heated trail along my face as he caressed every inch.

He shook his head, laughing to himself softly,” It’s you. It’s always been you.”

______________

I love sassy JJ. Sorry for the delayed upload, I got into a car accident and am just now starting to get better:)

Please let me know what you think!! Next piece will be yummy smut with Rafe

3K notes · View notes

thoughtvoid · 2 years

Text

Having one of those times I wish I could cry rn

#Work is 200% stress despite my best efforts to make it chill for me #And after 6 days straight of having to wake up early and cram as much work as possible into small shifts #(Where more and more people are quitting; and the ones left just don't care anymore; and leave more workload for other people later)#I really don't want to have my single day off before another work shift be #'company is coming soon; so you need to stop and pick up so I can vacuum and dust and do things now'#'Even though company isn't until two weeks; you need to get all this done now because I won't be here the week leading up to it all'#'I'm having to spend my day off picking up after you; too; so don't act like you're the only one who wants to relax right now'#I don't care how the house looks #I don't care about your job as a substitute teacher that you /volunteer/ to help one specific room #I'm tired. I'm frustrated. I just want to try and distract myself from all the stress that's forever under the surface #And instead my scanner gets turned off while I'm in the middle of using it because she messed with the plugs #I hate this feeling #I wish I could get rid of it but I can't I wish I could break down and have something people can /see/ that there's a problem but I /can't/

0 notes

yok00k · 2 months

Text

coming down

pairing: non-idoloc! x idol!jk

genre: angst

“i always want you when i’m coming down”

sypnosis: although you sleep next to jungkook every single night, it feels like you’re million miles away from him.

wordcount: around 1,000

warning: in 1st pov, it’s a little sad (for me), open ended ending, one sided love, allusion of cheating, oc’s world revolves around jk (don’t be like her)(lowkey im her), toxic relationship, lack of communication

author’s note: this did not go as I initially planned help-_- i was gonna make light jealousy oc/jk drabble idk how I ended up with this. i hope yall sob w/ me or lmk ur thoughts

an absolute ideal.

his performance. the concept. the way he sang his new released songs flawlessly. how smooth his dancing movements were. how the stage composition and development were so sumptuous.

and most importantly, how romantic the live performance was, given the fact that there was an actress involved in the show.

calling Jungkook an amazing artist would be an understatement. He’s creative, unique, and original in his masterpieces. Everything he does, no matter what, is just mesmerizing and astounding. He’s indeed a true performer.

Jungkook dedicated several months to work on his solo album. The time and effort he had put to his work is just admirable. On most days, he stays up late, trying to come up with so many possible ideas and options he can add on his album.

and I was there by his side. I chose to be.

I was there, waiting for him to come home every single night, or usually midnight, in our noiseless living room, wrapped with a thick blanket and loneliness. He would arrive home, but as night by night goes, I was accompanied by nothing but solitude. it feels like it’s taking over me.

I was there, in bad days where Jungkook is focusing on the negatives and having doubts in himself. Days where his standards for himself weren’t being met. both of my shoulders were closely next to him if he needed something to lean into. Reminding him that it’s okay and he’s doing wonderful.

I was there, even in times when he didn't want or need me to be there. times where he just wanted to be by his own with no distraction. but here I am, continuously showing him my undying love and support for him.

I chose to stay there. on nights where he stopped saying “i love you” back before going to dreamland. I hugged him closer as I convinced myself to believe that he just didn’t feel like saying those three words at those moment because of all the stress he undergoes through day to day.

I gave all of myself, I’ve done my part as his other half. Just like how Jungkook produces his works, I poured all my love and time to him, leaving not a thing for myself. It sounds foolish, but that’s just how I love

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

we’re both lying on the massive bed, only inches apart from one another’s body yet it feels like he’s millions of miles away from me as I stare at his cold, broad back that’s facing me.

I’ve got to used to this upsetting scenario at this point but that doesn’t mean it hurt less.

The whole bedroom feels chilly. I’m freezing, solely due to the fact that his warm arms weren’t wrapped around me like they used to be. as i’m not hearing his snores, I know that he’s still awake

“Do you still love me?” I manage to ask out loud and clear, immediately regretting the words that came out of my mouth even though it’s simply an inquiry.

a question that’s been going around my head for quite some time now. a question that i’m afraid to know the answer to because his response might be the response my heart doesn’t wish to hear or else it will shatter into millions of pieces.

my hope for an answer rapidly decreased as seconds went by filled with silence. The absence of noise that surrounded me was deafening; abundantly mocked the emotions I was feeling at the moment, screaming at me that my feelings didn't matter.

It's alright.

I did nothing but wipe the single tear that uncontrollably rolled down my cheek.

it’s stupid. I should’ve just kept it to myself. maybe that would be less embarrassing. less problematic. less painful than I was feeling minutes ago.

I turned my back against his as I accepted my defeat. maybe I’m just tired. maybe drifting to sleep will make me feel okay although I know deep inside that I won’t take the pain away. this is not some type of feeling i’m unfamiliar with to begin with.

I shut my eyes, as I try to put myself to sleep. but in that process, i felt his body moving, turning around, and finally snakes his warm arms around me. a pair of arms, the same ones I longed for so many nights.

“____, why would you ask that?” he giggly asked, sounding like he just heard a silly question. as if i was just being clingy and wanted some piece of his attention.

‘because i don’t feel like you love me anymore’

the man waited for a response, waiting to see if I was just fooling around or that was really genuine. the noiselessness, just like all times, answers the question we both interrogate to each other.

the heavy feelings just got worse, if not heavier. even so when he talks more. “i won’t be laying next to you if i wasn’t.” as if that makes me feel better.

indeed, he’s physically here by my side yet distant. Jungkook is so far off that I’ve lost him. numbness was all I felt as I heard his words. I couldn’t be more content now that I have my answers.

his indirect answer to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question is enough for me to know where we stand.

I can’t help but to turn my body to face him, just to stare at his doe eyes that I easily get lost in due to the fact that they hold thousands of stars, if not a whole world in them.

regretfully, my eyes should’ve just maintained contact with doe-like eyelids. but rather, they drop their focus on the side of his neck, detecting a foreign lipstick shade that he might have forgotten to wipe off. a shade that will be tattooed in my brain and will forever hate.

Inhale. Exhale. I chose to shrug it off, bringing my attention back to his worn out face.

“I love you” truthfully and whole-heartedly confessed to him once more just like I always do. although this was a little bit different because I don’t expect him to say it back anymore.

and with that in mind, this was also the last night that I will to express my love for him.

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkookxreader #jungkook angst #jungkook ff #jjk angst #bts angst #bts ff #jeon jk #jungkook #bts jk #angst #emocore

330 notes · View notes

marie-mcd · 2 months

Text

Amongst the Aziraphale appreciation posts I see, there's a big thing that I think is often missed and deserves pointing out!

(I'm not sure if this is an unpopular opinion or if it's something so obvious that it goes without saying, and thus hasn't been said; so I am either throwing myself to the wolves here or to the crickets. Here I go!)

In short, I think sheltering Gabriel in S2E1 was undeniably the right thing to do, and I admire Aziraphale for it. The ensuing fight with Crowley might distract some people from seeing this.

Initially it was a snap decision whose rationale was probably along the lines of "Ohshit, this is insane, everyone is staring, this situation has to stop right now, just get in and I'll get rid of you later."

But then it becomes clear to Aziraphale that Gabriel is a person who needs help. This is a special situation in which his antagonist is currently helpless. If he turns Gabriel away, it's only a matter of time before the other angels find him (granted, Azi doesn't have all the information yet here, but it's not a huge leap for him to suspect heaven being part of the threat), and in the meantime he could be hurt or even be discorporated by humans or by accident, and presumably end up back in heaven where Something Terrible awaits.

To articulate what I think the thought process might be in this situation, I'll borrow a quote from Miss Level from A Hat Full of Sky: "You can't not help people just because they're stupid or forgetful or unpleasant. Everyone's poor round here. If I don't help them, who will?" He's able to set aside his feelings and risk his own comfort and possibly his safety to help someone clearly in need, despite their past. The reason this is admirable is because this is difficult to do.

I understand why Aziraphale was upset with Crowley (and acted a bit pissy) during their blow-up. Not only is it not unreasonable to be upset about being bailed on in a high stress situation, it's also disappointing that Crowley's proposed solution was to dump Gabriel somewhere to fend for himself - Aziraphale knows and we know that Crowley is usually kind and moral, not to mention rational (and we even see him being kind to Jim/Gabriel later). It's also worth noting that Aziraphale never implies that he thinks Crowley is a bad person for not helping; he asks for help, is upset to not get it, and suggests Crowley leaves because they're obviously at an impasse.

I see Crowley's side too, because it's also not unreasonable to get upset when your partner springs an unexpected stressful situation on you, and it was wise to leave when it was clear that they were both too emotional to work on a proper solution.

We all want to enjoy our precious, fragile existence on earth and not have to deal with curveballs, but I see this problem as the "worse" part of "for better or for worse". I might have seen things differently if Aziraphale was sheltering someone like Hastur, but he's helping his own antagonist, not Crowley's. I for one like to think that Crowley would have returned to help anyway after processing his emotions, even without the threat to Aziraphale's existence. And when he does return I like that he maintains an attitude of "I'll help but I don't have to like it!"

(Side note, it's also hilarious how irritated Aziraphale is by Jim later while Crowley is so patient - another case of doing the right thing but not necessarily liking it).

TLDR: I see their fight as emotional reactions to stress, that can be summed up along the lines of "I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at the situation!" Aziraphale's a BAMF in my book for doing what he believes was right.

#good omens 2 #good omens #good omens meta #aziraphale appreciation #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #azicrow #aziraphale and crowley #crowley and aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #a hat full of sky #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #p

223 notes · View notes

thetriumphantpanda · 4 months

Text

the gift that keeps giving | marcus pike

Summary | Isn't it just your luck to get the office hottie as your secret santa this year?

Pairing | Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.4K

Warnings | Just... Marcus Pike being Marcus Pike, some flirting and general office banter and a steamy kiss but nothing explicit!

Authors Note | To my Cheese & Crackers. My Darling Friend. I hope this makes your festive season that little bit lighter. I hope you love this because I love you, to the moon and back and beyond. Thank you for making 2023 that little bit easier. Happy Christmas @undercoverpena 🧡

“That’s looking a little worse for wear.” Marcus, stood at your desk, waiting for his report, finger pointed at the very much dead succulent on your desk.

You look up from your desk, fingers still flitting across the keyboard as you race to finish the notes he’d asked for.

“It’s looking dead, Marcus.”

“I was trying not to rub it in,” He shrugs, running a finger over one of the branches, a look of remorse on his face when he snaps off and lands on the white of the desk, “But yeah, that’s very much dead.”

“Frank deserved it.” You shrug, eyes never leaving your screen.

“Frank?”

“Yes, Frank,” You nod your head towards the succulent, “You’re meant to name plants, makes you more attached to them, more likely to care properly for them,” Another shrug of your shoulders, “Now look at him, showing me up as a bad mother.”

Marcus can’t help but chuckle a little, “You’ll have to get yourself another.”

“If I can’t keep a succulent alive,” You sigh, fingers slowing ever-so-slightly on the keyboard, “There isn’t much hope for anything else.”

“I believe in you.” He offers.

You stare at him through your lashes, a look that warns him that he needs to be quiet, “You know, the longer you stand there distracting me, the longer it’ll take me to type these notes up?”

“I always thought you thrived on pressure?” He teases, reminding you of a conversation a few months ago where you’d admitted that the best work you produce is always to a time crunch.

“Marcus, respectfully,” You finally look up at him properly, “You need to leave me alone, if you go and sit down in your office and leave me to it, this report will be on your desk in the next twenty minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re late.” Your voice is monotone as Marcus hurries out of the elevator.

“I know.” He’s stressed, twenty minutes late to his debrief meeting.

“I told you last night what time you needed to be here.”

He runs a hand over his face, taking the manila file from your hand, flicking through it to make sure he knows what the fuck is going on right now.

“I’ve just moved.”

You sigh, shake your head, but keep up his pace as you race through the office, “What’s that got to do with you being late?”

“The fridge magnet,” He offers, as if you’ll know exactly what he’s talking about, “I lost it when I moved.”

“Am I supposed to make the link myself?”

He stops at his desk, blindly opening drawers, rooting through papers to try and find something, “I used it to pin important things on the fridge, like when I need to be in to speak to the big boss.”

You shake your head, trailing behind him again as he starts walking again, “You can get a damn fridge magnet on every street corner, Marcus.”

“I know,” He says, a little breathless, as he finally comes to the meeting room door, “I’ll get around to it eventually, promise.”

There’s a small gift bag sitting on your desk when you come back from the Christmas lunch. There are an array of other gift bags and small wrapped presents on everyone’s desk. You sigh, flopping into your chair. Someone from the finance team is already passing around glasses of something fizzy, work clearly done for the day. Someone is hooking their phone up to the a speaker. You look left and right, making sure that no-one is looking, before you pull open the top of the back and peer in.

You can’t quite believe it, reaching your hand inside to grasp the pot, pulling it out. A scoff leaves your mouth, a small cactus sitting in a pot that’s been painted like a Christmas jumper. You shake your head, a laugh escaping as you drag a finger over the little spines, like you always do when trying to choose a new plant. You push the bag out of the way, setting the small plant down on your desk, right where Frank had been before.

You use your fingers to turn it around, setting it perfectly in place, when those familiar legs come into view, perfectly pressed trousers right in your eyeline, but it isn’t the legs you’re really looking at, although you do sometimes, it’s his fingers, pressing a fridge magnet onto your desk, sliding it across to you, a magnet that is now so familiar to you, having stood in that damn gift shop for almost thirty minutes try to choose the right one. One with a watercolour painting splashed across it, one that you know he likes, never shutting about what the colours mean and how it makes him feel.

“Oh my god,” You feign surprise, “Does this mean you’ll be on time from now on?”

“It looks like,” He’s got a smile on his mouth when you look at him, “Also means you’ll be able to get off my case.”

You smile back at him, “I’m pretty sure I’m the only reason you still have a job after your timekeeping this past month,” You tease, “But sure, if you want me off your case that bad, I’ll leave you alone.”

His attention moves from the magnet to the cactus already having pride of place on your desk. He picks it up, annoying you slightly as you’d just got it in the right position for you, “What are you going to name it?”

You raise your eyebrow, a knowing look in your eye, “It’s your gift, Marcus, you should name it.”

Marcus drops his head, a snort of a laugh breathing from his nostrils, “That obvious, huh?”

“About as obvious as this.” You bring your fingers to the fridge magnet.

You hold his eyes, watching as he thinks for a second, before he offers his name, “Vincent.”

There’s an actual laugh that drops from your mouth now, “You’re so predictable, Pike,” You shake your head, “Of course it would be an artist.”

He shifts from foot to foot a little, “You know,” His hand comes nervously to the back of his neck, “If it wasn’t for the damn $5 cap, I’d have gotten us a gift certificate to this restaurant downtown that I like.”

You breath catches in your throat slightly, because there’s no way, there’s no way that means what it means, “Us?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you’d like it of course,” His nervous hand running up and down the side of his neck, “I don’t need a secret santa to take you out.”

You shake your head a little, bite your bottom lip, “It’s funny, because if it hadn’t been for the $5 dollar cap, I would have got us tickets to the new exhibition at the gallery.”

Your words sink in, him realising you want him just as much as he wants you, outside of this office and the professional relationship you have.

“And what if dinner came with a kiss?”

“What if the exhibition came with one too?”

He’s taking hold of your wrist, dragging you from your chair, back out of the office and down towards the privacy of the alcove near the elevator. Your back, pressed against the wall, Marcus’ hands on your waist as his mouth finally slants over your own. It’s exactly how you’d imagined it for all these months, soft but sure, warm hands seeping through the layers of your clothes. And he tastes exactly as you thought he would, slightly sweet, considering his sweet tooth, and you can taste the beer he drank at lunch. It’s intoxicating. You slip your hands under the shoulders of his suit jacket, gripping the broadness of him as he pulls away.

“Gotta keep your hands to yourself,” He whispers against your mouth, “If you don’t we’re gonna be sat with HR in the morning.”

You bite your lip, leaning towards him a little to press your lips gently to his own, “Don’t threaten me with a good time, agent.”

He looks at you, fire in his eyes, “Go and get your things,” It’s a strict order, that floats straight to settle in your tummy, “I’m sure I can get us in for dinner somewhere.”

“Yes, sir.”

#space sisters secret santa 2023 #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x F!reader #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike fanfiction #Pedro pascal #Marcus Pike Pedro pascal

290 notes · View notes

stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years

Text

In the Blink of an Eye | Bucky Barnes (Mafia AU)

mafia!bucky barnes x f!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: With Bucky Barnes, the mafia lord of New York, as your boyfriend, you're usually safe from any and all harm. With a date night gone wrong and your boyfriend distracted, though, anything can happen in the blink of an eye.

A/N: Another one of my favorites because come on, who doesn't love mob Bucky? If you couldn't tell by now, angst is my thing lol, but I'm working on some fluffier oneshots! True to my word, this one's a reader insert for all you lovelies, enjoy and as always keep dreaming 🤍

Warnings: mafia!Bucky, violence, angst, kidnapping, drugging, language, mentions of torture, fluffy ending because I just can't help myself.

Word Count: 5,896

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

I knew the dangers when I started. I knew the risks. I welcomed them, I embraced them. They did not scare me and they haven't even now, so many months later.

We always seem to think we know ourselves so well, that we know what we'd do in every situation. I thought I knew.

Then I fell in love.

When you're in love, well, everything changes. For the first time, there's another person that you cannot live without. For the first time, you begin to realize just how far you'd go to keep that love, to strengthen it. I used to avoid love, used to think it was worthless.

Then I met Bucky Barnes, Wolf of the North and mafia lord of New York, and I fell harder than I ever have before.

I love him more than anything else in my life, and so I took on the risks willingly. When you love someone that deeply, that ardently, nothing is a risk. Besides, I knew that he would do everything in his power to protect me. Bucky would never let anything bad happen to me.

That's where I went wrong. Not in overestimating him, but underrating what can happen in the blink of an eye.

"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"

He acts as though he's heard me, but his eyes are glued to the phone in his hand as we weave through the crowds in the New York night. He never usually ignores me like this, and even though I'm growing annoyed, I'm hurt by his lack of attention too.

"We'll be fine, even if he is he wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything" Bucky brushes off, not even looking up from his phone. I let out a small huff as we approach the front of the bar and nightclub he owns.

Before we make it to the doors, I grab his well-muscled arm and gently tug him to face me. He looks up now, his usually softened ice blue eyes plagued with business and stress.

"I thought tonight was just for us, my love" I remind. Something softens in his gaze but he ices it down and doesn't as much as touch me.

"It is, but I have some business to attend to first" his gravelly voice replies.

"Business?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow and smiling softly at him, "You can get business any night, but I-"

"Just give me ten minutes, Y/N." my boyfriend interrupts, and if it were any other day I'd say something back. Too exhausted from work to want an argument, though, I simply sigh and decide to show him patience.

"Alright, you have 10 minutes."

We walk inside, but before we do I cast one more glance back towards the man who I saw following us. My heart hits the floor when my eyes connect directly with his across the street. His mousy brown hair and disheveled brown leather jacket and white shirt set me on edge, so I quickly turn around and follow Bucky into his club.

As soon as I'm back by his side, he presses a gentle but burning hand to my back, his touch, however small, still intoxicating me after all this time. Normally, he'd lean over and whisper sweet nothings or promises of love in my ear and I'd shiver at the whisper of his voice so near, but now he barely even touches me. His mind is so preoccupied with work, I know that, but it has been all week since this weekend is his rival's gala.

But I feel ignored and unappreciated and it's killing me.

The pounding music of the club wraps around me, making it harder to keep my thoughts straight. Bucky and I walk straight to the back of the club, where his business no doubt waits. He pulls away from me without so much as a goodbye, and my heart tugs. Quickly I grab his hand, making him glance at me.

"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out," I repeat, and I know he said I'll be fine but I need him to be here with me, "Please, stay with me."

"Doll, you're gonna be fine. Now-"

I cut him off, getting frustrated.

"No Bucky! I can fight, sure, but if he-" I interrupt, only for him to cut me right back off.

"Drop it, Y/N. Just go to the bar or something" Bucky growls, pulling out of my grip and walking into the office without a single glance back at me.

My heart cracks.

He's never like this, ever. He's usually so protective it's overbearing, and yet the one time I need that to feel secure, he refuses. I can take care of myself, but I'm not stupid. And no matter how capable and independent I may be, Bucky brings a level of safety to me that I can't describe.

And yet here he is, leaving me alone in his bar with someone following us.

I huff out a sigh and try not to look too forlorn as I traipse over to the bar. Almost as soon as I've arrived and sat at an open bar stool, the bartender who has become somewhat of a friend over the last few months approaches me.

"And how is my favorite customer?" He asks, his hands busy preparing a drink. I shrug, offering him a soft smile.

"I'm alright, Lee," I respond, playing with the edge of my sleeve, "Just a whiskey please."

"Sure thing, Y/N," Lee says, his brows furrowed as he steps away to make my drink. When the glass slides in front of me, I grab onto it with tired fingers.

"So, do you want me to ask what's really going on or do you want me to believe the lie?" The bartender asks, making me raise my gaze from the amber liquid and to my friend's face. He must see the tears gathering in my eyes because a hint of concern grows. I never break like this.

"Believe the lie, please" I nearly whisper, desperate to not have this conversation right now. Lee stares at me for a second longer before nodding.

"Let me know if you need anything else."

When he walks away to take care of another customer, I'm left feeling alone and forgotten in my boyfriend's bar. I sip on the alcohol and seconds turn to minutes, and ten minutes soon becomes twenty. I feel patience slipping and am seconds away from barging into that room and giving my boyfriend a piece of my mind when another voice pipes up beside me.

"I thought tonight was date night," The voice says, and I can't put a face to it. When I turn, the haze of alcohol clears instantly and my spine snaps straight. The music dulls into a hum. The lights grow darker. The color leeches from my body. My hand trembles around the almost empty glass.

It's him. He's got the same messy hair, the same brown jacket. The same hungry eyes.

Instantly, I clamp down hard on my rising panic. I refuse to fall into hysterics of any kind right now. This is the safest place for me to be right now, so I should have nothing to worry about. Instead, I simply shake my head and turn forward, downing the last of my second whiskey.

"You're another kind of stupid if you think anything is going to happen to me in here," I inform, my tone even and calm despite the throbbing, tearing panic within me that makes me want to sprint for Bucky.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm not going to do anything," the man responds, his tone just as even as mine.

I furrow my brows at the ease of his response, but all at once it hits me. My head begins to spin and with each second that passes, my mind begins to fog. No. No. No.

He drugged me.

How did he get it into my drink?

How did I not see it? Smell it? Taste it?

I shove out of my chair so fast that the stool screeches against the hard floor. The sound is absorbed into the mass of the club, though, and an arm snakes around my waist.

"No," I manage out, but the connection between my body and brain seems to be almost severed. The words come out sluggish and far away and when I try to pull from the stalker's hold, my body barely moves.

Instead, I'm left stumbling like I'm drunk with this man guiding me towards the exit as if he's helping me to a cab. The bouncers. Ed and Damien, they won't let him take me. They'll stop him, they'll get him away from me.

"Don't make a scene, Y/N. Your boyfriend isn't even out of his office." My kidnapper's voice slithers into my ear, making my stomach church with nausea.

My boyfriend. Bucky. Oh God, where is Bucky? Why can't I seem to remember where Bucky went? Why he's not here? Why I was alone?

"Bucky, Bucky's gonna-" I slur out, sounding absolutely wasted to the unknowing ear.

"I know, Mr. Barnes going to be so glad I got you home safely," he says suddenly, his entire body shifting tone. I furrow my brows and manage to look and see us just passing Ed and Damien at the door. Even though I can really see straight, I see the two bouncers block the exit when they see me.

"Hey man, what's going on?" I hear Ed ask.

"Nothing much to see, Boss just wanted me to take his lady home," the stalker says, his grip on me tighter than it must appear, "She had a little too much to drink."

Too much to drink? Did I? Why can't I remember what's happening? I didn't think I did but...but maybe I did. Who is this man? He said he's taking me home, maybe Bucky had to cancel date night. It was date night, right?

Both Ed and Damien furrow their brows and look to me, immediate concern drawing on their features when they see the state of me. Some lucid part of me screams to alert them of something, anything, but the thought doesn't come to fruition. It dies somewhere along a neuron and leaves me tripping over my own feet and speechless.

"I've never seen you before, man. How do we know that boss told you to take her home?" Damien asks. My escort doesn't miss a step.

"The Wolf is in states nowadays, isn't he boys?" The stalker replies, and that lucid part sparks up again in protest at the familiar words. That's the code phrase to ensure safety in moments like this.

He knows the code phrase.

They're going to let him take me.

I do what I can to struggle as Ed and Damien step aside, but it only comes across as trying to walk on my own, because the bouncers chuckle slightly.

"Relax Y/N, don't overdo it" Ed quips.

"Rest up, miss. I'll let boss know you got home safely." Damien follows up.

And the lucid part of me fades into the drug haze as my kidnapper guides me out of the safest place on earth without so much of a gun fight. The cool night air slaps me in the face and I whisper, trying to struggle again only to forget why I'm struggling in the first place. My body feels like I'm running through neck-high mud, anyways. Any sharp movements I try to make end in my hands barely moving.

"Bucky," I breathe, an urgency in that word. Beyond the haze and the forgetfulness and the confusion, there's a deep and piercing need to scream out that name. I can't figure out why, but I need him. I can't...I need...

My head's spinning, or maybe it's the world. My stomach is twisting and turning and twisting and turning and tw-

"He can't save you now. He didn't even put up a fight to protect you," that ugly, slimy voice says as a car door opens, "What a shame. A treasure like you should be guarded. But I guess finder's keeper's."

Then I'm shoved into a car and everything goes black.

||| James Buchanan Barnes

Y/N's going to actually kill me. As in my liver on a plate kill me.

The meeting that I promised would only be ten minutes has now gone for forty, and by now she's probably restless, hungry, and a little tipsy.

Great, and I pissed her off earlier so tonight is going to be so much fun.

I pull a hand through my dark hair with a slight groan as the man I was doing business with finally leaves my office. I sit for a second in the semi-quiet of my room, the pounding of music and laughter dulled by the walls. I know I shouldn't have gotten short with her earlier, but damn she wouldn't let up on me with the whole "stalker" thing.

My club is the safest place for her. I would never let anything happen to her, so for her to even think that...I sigh again, shoving it from my mind. It doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is finding my girlfriend and making all of this shit up to her. I rise from my leather chair and walk out of my office, the dulled sounds roaring into full force.

My eyes immediately shoot towards the bar to find my girl only to see an absence of her. With furrowed brows, I sweep my gaze towards the dance floor. Even crowded with people, I don't see her. I roll my eyes instantly, knowing what probably happened. She probably went home, probably's pissed as hell at me. I brush off my suit jacket and walk up to Lee at the bar, immediately garnering his attention. He smiles at me.

"Hey boss, can I get you anything?" He asks.

"No I'm good, thanks Lee," I respond, leaning on the bar with one arm and pinching the bridge of my nose, "Have you seen Y/N? I think I pissed her off."

There's a pause that makes me look over at my bartender. He's looking at me weirdly as he slides a drink to a customer and laughs slightly.

"Real funny, boss," Lee says, cleaning out a few glasses. I straighten up slightly, my brows furrowing deeper and my jaw setting.

"What's so funny, Lee? Have you seen her or not?" I ask, quickly losing my patience. I always thought he had a thing for her, always was too-

"Are you fucking with me right now?" Lee asks genuinely, cutting off my thoughts. When I don't respond, he realizes I'm not joking and his face goes grave, "So you didn't send her home twenty minutes ago?"

The world tilts around me and every ounce of anger, annoyance, and frustration leaves me in an instant. My heart drops like an anchor at sea and I don't dare to believe what Lee's words mean.

"She left twenty minutes ago," I begin slowly, trying desperately to hold myself together and not jump to a conclusion, "With someone who said I sent them to take her home."

Lee's face is slowly falling as he realizes the situation at hand. I feel so sick to my stomach that I can barely stand when Lee gives a faint nod. My world stops and then starts and then stops again.

"I never gave that order." I breathe.

"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"

I brushed her off.

"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out. Please, stay with me."

I ignored her. I snapped at her. I prioritized work over the light of my life. I told her she'd be fine.

I left her.

Lee is saying something to me but I don't hear it as I shove away and storm over to Ed and Damien, my bouncers. My face is a painting of fury and shame and worry and panic and it's a storm that catches Ed and Damien's attention. They stop what they're doing and look to me, their brows furrowing.

"Boss, what's-"

"You let her leave?" I strangle out, my heart slamming in my chest and my fists balled by my sides, "You let a stranger take her away?"

The two share a confused glance before looking back to me.

"A stranger? Boss, the man who took Y/N home knew the code," Ed informs.

"Did you not send him?" Damien suddenly asks, his face tightening in instant panic.

He knew the code. He knew the code and he somehow got my doll, my fighter, out without so much of a warning.

And it's all my fault.

"Shut the club down, get everyone out. Call together all of our forces. Tell them-" My voice breaks, raw emotion clawing up my throat, "Tell them Y/N's been taken."

I don't wait for a response and shove out into the cold night, gasping for air like a fish out of water. I was so obsessed with the gala this week that Hydra, our arch nemesis, was putting on, that I stopped paying attention to the only part of my life that matters. I have a lot of things, all of which I could live without, but I cannot live without her.

And I left her.

I left her and now she's gone.

She tried to warn me, she tried to tell me someone was following us. She tried to get me to stay with her, to not leave her. And yet I walked away. I just walked away like she didn't even matter and I left vulnerable and alone the only person in this entire fucking universe I love. It's all my fault, and I'll spend every second of the rest of my life trying to make it up to her.

If I can even find her in time, before she-

No. I will find her and she will live. I will burn down this whole damn world if I have to, and I will not stop. Not until every person who laid a finger on my girl is dead. I will paint the world crimson with their blood until I find her, and once I do I will never, never, ignore or leave her again.

That's not a threat. It's a promise.

||| Your POV

The collar secured to my throat is too tight, the metal no doubt leaving red grooves in my skin.

It hurts worse when Alexander Pierce, the mafia lord of Hydra, tugs the matching chain leash attached to it, pulling me closer to him and almost making me stumble mid-step.

The gala is glamorous, and my gown is nothing short of it as well. Pierce even went through the trouble of having someone do my hair. What he didn't do was my makeup.

That way anyone could see the dried blood and bruises littering my skin.

It's a scare tactic, I know that. A way to signal to everyone here that he's in charge and that he can't be defied. But I think he's got a bigger reason in mind for it all, the collar and the hideous marks on my skin.

And that reason is my boyfriend.

I can practically feel people's eyes follow me as I walk as steadily as I can at the end of Pierce's leash. Despite the radiating, excruciating pain that each step incurs, I keep my body steady and my chin high. I let the policemen and officials that are on his payroll and all of the members of his mafia see my bruises and cuts. He's parading me, so I'm going to put on a damn show.

A show to hide how mind-numbingly terrified I am right now.

Behind my set jaw and my cold eyes, I'm fighting back tears. The pain is mixing with the fear of the last few days to make a perfect storm within me. I'm terrified that any moment could be my last, that more pain could await me, that Bucky might never come for me

Or worse. That he doesn't even care.

Regardless of whether or not he cares, I'm still not going to give a single detail out. Even when Pierce himself tortured me until all I knew was blood and pain and fear, I said nothing. He didn't get a single word out of me. I just sat there, strapped to an iron chair, and took it. Every blow, every slice, every shout. At times my mind spared me and allowed me to slip into the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness, but it wouldn't be long after that I awoke to my head shoved into cold water to revive me.

And here I am, now taking a seat at the Dias of his gala room beside the mafia lord of Hydra, my boyfriend's sworn rival, with a collar around my neck tied to his wrist.

The music that wafts from the live orchestra is disturbingly jovial and light, filling the air with a sense of peace that provides such a stark juxtaposition to my insides that I almost puke. I sit ever so stiffly in my chair beside Pierce, my back burning with each movement because of the new stripes across its tender flesh.

As I feel warm liquid slide down my skin, I suddenly understand why Pierce insisted my dress be a dark maroon. I thought it was as at first just a beacon to everyone to show who I was with because it was his signature color, but I know better now. It's to hide the blood that seeps from my still-healing and probably infected wounds.

"Exquisite, isn't it?" Pierce asks, and I don't even have to turn towards him to know he wears a devilish smirk. A cruel man's trademark of victory.

I stay silent.

I hear him click his tongue as he sits back in his ornate chair, "All this quality time together and all I've heard from your voice has been your screams. No matter how pretty they are, doesn't seem polite to me."

This time, I can't hold myself back.

"Neither is kidnapping another human being and treating them like a prisoner of war," I announce, my voice raw and hoarse from the screaming and shouting of the past few days, "So pardon me if I'm not feeling too polite."

It's a bold move, but I make it anyways, gambling that he wouldn't lash out in the midst of his party. A little breath of relief escapes me when he chuckles.

"And here I was under the impression you were a sweet, soft-spoken sort of woman. My sources misjudged you." Pierce responds.

Of course he's been watching me. A scheme like this doesn't happen overnight. He's been planning this for a while, now. Pierce knew exactly when Bucky would be most vulnerable, when the defenses would be the loosest. It makes me want to scream.

"You're going to die for this," I whisper, quietly but not softly. There's his laugh again.

"Oh honey," Pierce starts, his voice condescending as if I were a toddler, "Careful with blind faith. What makes you so sure Barnes will make it out of this alive?"

His words unsettle something so deep within me that if I spend more than a few seconds touching on it, I'll shatter. Instead, I turn to look at Alexander Pierce for the first time since we've sat down. My eyes are cold and harsh upon him and the shining metal of the collar that tethers us.

"What makes you so sure it will be Bucky who kills you?"

He has the good sense to look the slightest bit unnerved, and I give him a smirk of my own, "Like you said before, your men sorely misjudged me."

Before he can respond, one of the guards that stands behind us steps forward and whispers something in the mafia lord's ear. Whatever he says makes Pierce grin fiercely as he looks back to me and gives the collar a tug.

"Your White Wolf is here."

My heart jumps so hard that I forget how to function. For a moment, everything else fades and dims away, even the biting pain wrapping me like a blanket of thorns. I snap my head back forward and when I see him I swear I almost break right then and there.

Because his eyes are already on me, and they're coated with fury.

It takes every ounce of strength I have to not dissolve into tears, to not let my fear show.

He's here.

Bucky found me.

When our eyes meet, something so primal and raw ignites in his features. He looks seconds away from shattering as his chest heaves, his eyes scouring every inch of me. I feel undone before him, as if the dress doesn't hide a single thing that Pierce and his men have done to me.

"James Barnes," Pierce announces, snapping the connection between us swiftly, "I thought you'd never come. I hope you don't mind, I think I've stolen your date for the evening."

Then he wraps his palm around the chain leash and yanks it so hard that I nearly tumble out of the chair. His hand is there to stop me as it grabs my jaw in a bruising grip. Pierce hums, turning my face side to side before forcing it forward to the crowd that now watches. Bucky is painted with dark rage and looks seconds away from ending Pierce's life.

"She makes quite the pretty pet."

Bucky begins to storm forward only for two of the guests who belong to Pierce's mafia to grip onto his arms and prevent him.

"Take your fucking hand off of her, Pierce, or I swear I'll-" Bucky growls, and hearing his voice is enough to ease some of the knot that's wound in my chest these last few days.

"You'll what?" Alexander asks, releasing my chin but remaining ever so calmly in his seat beside me, "You must not care that much for my pet, after all you were the one to ignore her."

There's a bone-crushing silence and I see that same something shatter in my love's gaze.

"You shoved her off, you left her alone," Alexander cuts out, reaching out and running a hand through my hair, "You so carelessly let her slip through your fingers and here you are pretending to care."

"What I did was unforgivable, I know that," Bucky says suddenly, and I see even from here the silver lining his eyes as he speaks, "But she is a good person. She doesn't deserve this. If you need to punish someone, don't let it be her."

"You don't deserve her," Pierce says, and I want to scream that he's wrong but Bucky cuts me off. His eyes clash with mine and I fall in love all over again.

"I know," he says so softly that I almost miss it. I try to shake my head 'no', but Pierce tightens the collar, making me whimper.

Bucky shoves off the two men holding him, composing himself and standing stiffly a good ways before us.

"Let her go, Pierce," Bucky reiterates, his tone harsh once more and his stare pure murder, "I won't ask again."

Pierce clicks his tongue beside me, letting up on my leash to let me relax slightly.

"Oh Barnes, did you really waltz in here thinking you'd walk back out?"

There's a deadly silence and I swear you can hear my heart smash into the floor even though I expected this. With every second between his last words and his next, I grow more panicked.

"I have you surrounded, Barnes. You're not getting out of this," Pierce announces. Bucky doesn't look the least bit unnerved, though.

Pierce reaches you to an ear piece I didn't know was there and touches it, "Guns at attention."

From my spot next to him, all I hear is static. There's no response coming back, and the confusion becomes evident on Alexander's face at the same moment I realize what's going on. Hope like a new sunrise breaks in me and I look over at Bucky to find him smirking. He winks at me once before furrowing his brows at Pierce.

"What's wrong, can't reach your men?" Bucky taunts.

And then all Hell breaks loose.

Guns are firing and people are screaming and within seconds, Bucky's mafia that's already infiltrated the gala hall appears from the woodwork, their guns raised and keeping the few mafia members left under gun point. Bucky just stands coolly in the midst as another deadly silence blankets the room. I can practically feel the rage draining off of Alexander.

"Get him!" Pierce suddenly shouts, and what few men are left charge at Bucky. Including the personal guards around us. The gunfire begins again, and the classy event is soon painted crimson.

I take the brief moment of chaos to my advantage and shoot up from my seat. As soon as Pierce registers that I'm moving, it's too late. Despite the screaming of my body, I sprint behind Pierce's chair and brace one heeled foot at its back. Then, before he can reach for a gun, I wrap the leash he's collared me with around his neck and pull back, strangling him with the own device he subjected me under.

His hands claw desperately at the chain and I feel my exhausted muscles trembling, but I refuse to let up. I keep holding the chain tighter and snap my gaze up in Bucky's direction just in time to see him shoot a guard between the eyes.

"Bucky!" I shout, gaining his attention instantly.

I know I can't hold Pierce off much longer, so Bucky will need to help me take him down while I've got him strangled to the chair. The metal is cutting deep into his skin when Bucky begins fighting desperately to reach us. Before he can, though, Pierce gets a purchase on the chain and yanks with such force that it sends my body flying over him and the chair. I land flat on my back so hard on the tile that the air rushes out of my lungs and every cut and tear rips open.

"Y/N!" Bucky roars, and it rattles my very bones

I gasp and groan in pain simultaneously, desperately trying to get air into my lungs. The second I can breathe again, Pierce is dragging me backwards by the chain.

"No!" I shout, reaching up and gripping the chain before yanking it.

We tug back and forth as he drags me, but I manage to hook my foot around one of the overturned chairs and use the leverage to yank the chain so hard that I hear a snap followed by a shrill yell.

I just broke his wrist.

When I pull again, the chain comes free and a weight lifts from my shoulders. I scramble to my feet, about to sprint away and towards where I last saw Bucky when Pierce's hands grip my shoulders and rip me back. I don't even have time to scream when my back is slammed into a hard wall and Pierce is before me, a knife in his unmangled hand that's pressed to my cheek.

"You little bitch" he seethes.

My chest is heaving with breath and panic as I read back and spit in his face as hard as I can. He recoils slightly and I relish in it. My happiness only lasts a second, though, because his knife is pressing into my cheek. I try to squirm but his body is pressed firmly to mine and pins me to the wall.

"I so didn't want to end you this quickly," Pierce whispers, his voice slithering against my skin.

I keep trying to be strong, to be so strong, but it's getting harder to keep up. I try to not show my fear, but it's getting harder and harder to hide. I feel myself finally breaking after the hell that these last few days have been and just when I think he's going to end it all, he's gone. In a moment, he's off of me and unconscious on the ground.

And Bucky is standing before me, his chest heaving and his eyes wild.

"Bucky," I breathe, already feeling my strength slip away.

I don't have to be strong anymore.

Bucky drops the gun he just rendered Pierce unconscious with, every inch of his face softening upon my bloody, trembling form. He looks a minute away from crying when I stumble forward and crash into him, letting myself break down in his arms that already wrap around my waist and keep me upright. He keeps me so tight to himself that there is no room between us. I bury my face into his neck and let out a sob, my tears mixing with the blood on his suit. I can't tell which of us is shaking harder, but all I can tell is the warmth and security that Bucky's hands bring me.

"Oh doll," Bucky whispers, sending a shiver down my spine, "You're alive. You're alive."

I mumble some sort of affirmation, but I can barely think straight.

"I'm so sorry, doll. I'm so sorry." Bucky repeats it over and over again, "God, Y/N I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Buck. It's alright," I whisper, but he keeps shaking his head. He pulls back far enough to meet my gaze.

"I've been shitty to you. I should've listened to you, I should never have left you. I am never leaving you again."

"It's okay, I forgive you," I repeat, brushing a bloody hand against his jaw, "Of course it's gonna cost you at least four new pairs of shoes."

At my joke, a laugh of pure relief to have me back in hands escapes his lips. I chuckle softly too, taking in every inch of his breathtaking face. A tear drops down his cheek and he leans his forehead against mine.

"I love you so much, I love you more than life." he breathes.

"I love you too. That's all that kept me breathing, loving you,"I respond, and his lips are on mine in an instant.

Even though it's only been a few days, kissing him feels like I've been in a drought and he's my water. The kiss is desperate and pleading and consuming. It steals whatever strength is left in my knees and I link my arms around his neck to support myself. When he finally pulls away, he leaves a trail of kisses to my nose and then my forehead before tugging me to himself again.

"I'm going to tear him apart for this," Bucky vows, and I know it shouldn't but I still let out a breath of relief at that.

"Is that why he's not dead yet?" I ask, chuckling softly. He does the same, kissing the top of my head.

"That's exactly why," Bucky agrees, pulling back and rubbing a finger along my cheek. He becomes serious again and I feel my heart flutter.

"When I found out you were gone, I lost myself." He says, his throat bobbing as he Cho's my face with his large hands, "Y/N, there is no me without you"

I turn to kiss his hand before leaning into it more.

"I'll always find my way back to you. You're all I have, James"

Another tear works down his cheek before he finally steps to the side. The gala is trashed, but the gunfire is over. Apparently, his men were here hours before anyone else got here. I feel my strength abandoning me, so I lean my weight onto Bucky. He feels this and immediately scoops me into his arms, holding me close to his chest.

"I'm going to kiss every one of these scars when we get back" His voice rumbles, and I smile as I lean my head further into him.

"Let's go home, my love"

And he held up his promise. He never left me again.

4K notes · View notes

captainsophiestark · 1 year

Text

Pay No Attention to the Magizoologist

Theseus Scamander x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requested by anon!

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Y/N and Newt have been friends for a long time, and for almost as long, Y/N has also had a crush on Newt's older brother Theseus. Years and years later, after their Hogwarts days, several run-ins with Grindelwald, the death of Leta Lestrange, and the wedding of Queenie and Jacob, Newt is still subverting Ministry rules in the name of helping his creatures. And, as usual, Y/N is an accomplice in his schemes. So, when Newt goes running out the door with his creatures and Jacob in tow, it falls to Y/N to distract Theseus and keep him from following Newt's trail. And this distraction might just lead to a bigger change than any of them bargained for.

Word Count: 2,439

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"What do we do?"

"I don't know!"

I looked between Newt and Jacob as they debated, coming off as a little bit more than panicked. They needed to get out of here with Newt's briefcase, without getting held up by the Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately for both of them (and me), Theseus was on his way here as we spoke, and there was no doubt he'd slow down the boys' mission.

"Why is your brother coming after us in the first place?" demanded Jacob.

"Because technically, what we're doing here is illegal. The Ministry of Magic has specific procedures they want me to follow before releasing any of my creatures into their natural habitats, but this time, waiting for their bureaucracy to process things will take too long. My newest rescue won't do well waiting around in captivity for longer than they already have," answered Newt. Jacob looked more stressed than he'd been before.

"Oh great!"

"You two get out of here," I said, jumping into the middle of their argument after watching their back-and-forth for a while. "I'll stay here and slow down Theseus."

They both stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at me, incredulous expressions on their faces. After a few beats of silence, the three of us just looking between one another, Newt spoke up.

"Y/N, are you sure?"

"Yeah, Newt, I'm sure. I can distract him just fine, and you guys need to get out of here. You need Jacob for this a little more than you need me, and I can always meet up with you both later."

Newt stared at me for a few moments, then closed all the distance between us to clasp a hand on my shoulder. He met my eyes with an earnest look, and it made my heart warm to see my best friend like that.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"Of course. Just be safe, the both of you."

Newt nodded, his way of promising, before heading out the door, Jacob with him. I watched them go, and then just like that, I was alone in our little loft hideout.

I'd been best friends with Newt for the majority of my life. Since Hogwarts, in fact. He and I got along like wildfire, and had since our first year together at Hogwarts. I would do anything for him. Theseus and I, on the other hand, were a different story.

I'd had a crush on my best friend's older brother for basically our entire time at Hogwarts. Theseus, on the other hand, had barely noticed me beyond my role as his kid brother's friend, and our relationship had only cooled as I'd spent more time helping Newt and less time fawning over him. In the wake of Leta Lestrange's death, however, Newt and Theseus had gotten close again, and I'd done my best to be there for both of them as well. Theseus and I had gotten to the point of actually being able to call each other friends recently, and I only hoped my decision to distract him today in order to give Newt a clean getaway wouldn't ruin that new step in our relationship.

Oh well. Sometimes, there was no other option but to back your crazy best friend's crazy play, no matter the cost.

I paced around the room for a few minutes, trying to brace myself to see Theseus, but before I was anywhere near ready I heard a loud knock at the door. I couldn't help jumping, but then I did my best to quickly compose myself and went to answer it.

"Theseus!" I said, feigning surprise when I saw the serious face of the Auror before me. He kept trying to lean around me to see inside the little apartment Newt and I had turned into a temporary hideout, and I kept leaning to block him. "What a surprise! It's so good to see you, it's been so long!"

"Y/N, where's my brother?" he demanded, his eyes at last settling on me instead of the space behind me. I fought back a gulp as I forced a smile onto my face instead.

"Newt? Uh... I haven't seen Newt in a while now, actually. I thought he was spending some family time with you?"

Theseus gave me a look that clearly said he wasn't buying any of my nonsense.

"We both know he's not spending time with me. He's been hiding out with you while planning some nonsensical scheme that's going to get both him and his muggle friend into deep trouble. Now tell me where he is."

"What? I mean, uh..."

"Y/N, I'm sorry, but I don't have time for this."

With that, he stepped forward, forcing me to step back or else be run straight into. He pushed into the living room, leaving me standing by the open door behind him, then poked his head into the kitchen in search of Newt.

"Newt! Come out, we need to talk!" he called. He stopped, apparently deciding Newt wasn't in the kitchen, before heading into the living room. I rolled my eyes and closed the front door.

"Please, come right in and make yourself comfortable," I deadpanned. Theseus just shot me a look over his shoulder as he continued to move around my living room. I huffed a sigh, but got dragged back into action as Theseus made his way across the room, getting closer to the back door Newt and Jacob had disappeared out of. If he got there, to the spot they'd left from, odds were significantly higher he'd be able to track them down, especially with a little magical help.

I just needed to buy Newt a little more time. He and Jacob were catching a portkey in twenty minutes, and if Theseus couldn't get to them before that, they'd be in the clear.

"So, uh, the Ministry is still trying to prevent the release of some animals, yeah? That's uh... that's what this whole thing is about?"

"My brother is trying to release dangerous animals into the wild," said Theseus, not halting his search through my living room. I took a few steps closer to him as they spoke. "Keeping them safe in his sanctuary is one thing, but turning them loose on the world is another..."

"I've met all of those animals, none of them seem particularly dangerous to me," I countered, crossing the room all the way to Theseus now. I moved in front of him, standing between him and his search of the top of my fireplace mantle. His eyes landed on me, an exasperated expression on his face.

"Y/N, please. Newt just needs to get a permit, and go through the proper channels. Then he can release whatever animals he wants."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. "Oh please, you and I both know the Ministry will take ages. Some of those animals will be much better off if they're released now, and not a year from now."

"All the same, I need to do my job and get my brother back. Then maybe I can help him get his permit expedited, but until then, he has to wait. So, if you're done attempting to stall me..."

With that, he turned to start hunting through the rest of my living room, following Newt's trail. I moved after him, hovering over his every step and trying to erase any trace of Newt when I caught it before Theseus.

"Actually, I'm not done stalling you. I think we should talk a little more. Now that we're back to being friendly, you know, I think-"

"Nice try, Y/N, but it's not going to work," said Theseus, a slight smile on his face as he continued to make his way through my living room. "I can talk to you and search for my brother at the same time."

I looked around the room for some sign of inspiration to slow down Theseus, but started to panic as he headed for the door Newt and Jacob had left through. He flung it open and was about to walk out, which meant I had to do something, now.

"Wait!" I cried, rushing across the room towards him. He paused with a sigh and turned back to me, wand in-hand and ready to track Newt and Jacob.

"Y/N, I'm sorry, but I really can't stick around right now. I have a job to do."

"Okay, but just one second. This is important!" I said, slipping into the doorway between him and his target. He leaned forward and into my space, and I couldn't help feeling a little giddy at his proximity. I blame that feeling for clouding my judgment and impacting my next decision.

"What is it, Y/N?" he asked. I panicked, trying to think of something, but I couldn't focus on anything beyond the handsome, wonderful man in front of me and the fact that I could NOT let him through the door. He sighed and took a half step forward, placing his hand gently on my waist to move me aside, and I did the only thing that came to mind.

I grabbed Theseus' shoulders, leaned up, and kissed him full on the mouth.

My brain short circuited all over again as we kissed, and I swear fireworks surrounded us. Then, a moment later, reality set in. I jerked away from Theseus and my hand flew to my mouth, horror sinking in at my actions. I couldn't believe I'd just done that.

"Theseus..." I looked up at him to find him staring blankly off into the space just over my shoulder, looking completely shocked. "Oh my God... I am so, SO sorry!"

Theseus didn't respond, which got rid of any of the remaining fireworks lingering around me. I couldn't believe I'd just done that. Theseus and I had just started to get to a place where we had a good relationship, and I'd probably just destroyed it.

"Theseus, please, I'm so sorry. I know I shouldn't have done that. I just... I needed to keep you from going after Newt, and... and it was the only thing I could think to do. Oh God." I facepalmed. Then, against the rational part of my brain screaming to let me give it control again, I kept talking. "I- well, I've had a crush on you since we were kids, and we were standing so close together and it's like my mind went blank, and it was the only thing I could think of-"

My ramble finally, mercifully got cut off as Theseus wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back to his side of the doorway before pushing me up against the wall right next to it. Before I could get my brain restarted, he was kissing me, with a level of passion and emotion that I'd only ever dreamed about.

Once I got over my own shock, I wasted no time kissing him back. I tangled my hands in his hair as his grip tightened around my waist, and we stayed like that for a long few moments before finally coming up for air.

We were breathing hard as we met each others' eyes, our faces barley an inch apart. He seemed as shocked as me that we'd actually just done that, and I couldn't help the joyful laugh that bubbled out of me.

"Theseus... what was that?" I asked, a smile steadily growing on my face as I fondly ran my hand through his hair again. He smiled back at me, a slightly sheepish grin on his face even though he looked just as happy as I did.

"I've had feelings for you for a few months now," he breathed. "I didn't know how to tell you, since we'd just gotten back on friendly terms and I didn't want to ruin anything..."

"I've been doing the same thing," I said. We shared disbelieving laughs, and I surveyed Theseus fondly while he looked me up and down with the same care. Theseus leaned in and rested his forehead against mine, the smile still on his face and his voice still a little breathless when he spoke.

"So... I kind of need to go chase my brother now, but... any chance you'd let me take you to dinner tomorrow night?"

I beamed back at him, leaning up to give him a light, soft kiss before responding.

"I'd love that, Theseus."

"Good! Great. Then... it's a date."

"It's a date."

We shared another smile, Theseus still looking a little giddy as he at last stepped away from me and moved towards the door again. The sweet smile turned into more of a smirk as he took one step outside, on his way to follow the path his brother had taken not long ago.

"So... you're not going to try to stop me going after Newt anymore?" he asked, a little of the confident swagger I loved so much back in his tone and body language.

"No," I said with a shrug. "He's gotten far enough away by now that you can't catch him."

Theseus groaned and looked up at the sky, then settled his gaze back on me.

"I hope you're wrong, Y/N. But if you're not... you're buying the first round of drinks as compensation."

"You're on," I replied with a grin of my own. "Have fun on your wild goose chase! Don't let the Ministry people get you down. Newt's doing the right thing."

Theseus just sighed, although he wasn't quite able to keep a fond smile off his face. Whether it was for me, his brother, or the both of us, I wasn't sure.

He gave me one last smile and nod before finally heading all the way out the door, shutting it behind him as he resumed his work. I smiled after him and slowly sank down the wall, my fingers brushing over my lips where Theseus' had just been. It didn't seem quite real to me that the past few minutes had really happened, but I knew for a fact it was real. And that I had a date with Theseus Scamander tomorrow night.

Newt was never going to believe me when I told him the story. Helping him with his crazy shenanigans had never turned out so well.

2K notes · View notes

angel-of-the-moons · 7 months

Note

hi!! i’ve recently been struggling with my eating disorder, and i was wondering if you could do a hobie x gf!reader where reader is having a really hard time eating and he comforts her and helps her eat? lots of physical touch and words of affirmation if possible - and if this req is uncomfy i get it !!

Awww hon I hope this helps you feel a bit better!

Let Them Eat Cake (Or Something)

Soft!Hobie x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Eating Disorders/Anorexia, hints of depression, bullying, some mental trauma, back at it again with the fluffy bullshit (Hobie also makes an inappropriate promise but nothing is detailed lol)

A/N: I myself struggle with eating disorders brought on by financial strains and mental issues (still do) so I totally understand this kinda thing!

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

It was the little things Hobie did to take care of you that most people probably couldn't imagine someone of his niche to do.

Things like peeling off the nutrition labels to things you'd buy at the grocery store so you couldn't stress over the calories (or lack thereof), buying those meal replacer shakes for you to try when you didn't want to eat; hovering over (respectfully) when you prepared your meals, saying little things to encourage you to fill your plate more.

"Ay, you should try this. Saw it online and heard it tastes pretty good with that, yeah?"

"Jus' a bit more, I can still see some on ya plate there. Almost done and it's less stuff wasted, right?"

He would even call or text you to eat one of the little snack baggies he'd prepped you full of healthy snacks. Even if it wasn't a full meal, helping you eat throughout the day brought him peace of mind so he wouldn't worry about you wasting away.

He'd read up on eating disorders and didn't like it one bit, so he devoted half his time with you around meals more focusing on you, even while he scarfed down his own portions.

Hobie had an insane metabolism, it was like he was constantly eating something in some way or another to keep himself going, and at some point you'd joked he had a black hole for a gullet.

But still, he would watch you out of the corner of his eye, taking your little mouse nibbles here and there, sipping your drink...

He knew that bringing it up front would only upset you, so he'd do little things to distract you from your thoughts of your food. He'd play little games with you. Like 20 questions. If you got one wrong, you'd have to eat another bite of your food. It would continue like that until your food was gone and you didn't realize it.

A punk with a heart of gold, Hobie Brown was. Though he'd never admit it out loud, even the members of his band would snort and laugh at how soft he was with you; though they understood completely why.

Today, you and Hobie went out for lunch, and you two attracted more than a few curious glances at your contrast in styles when you sat down to order. People just loved to stare, didn't they?

You idly played with your chips, pushing them around on your plate, your chicken sandwich sitting with just a few bites taken out of it.

"Ay, luv. Eyes bigger than your stomach, again?" Hobie asked, sipping his pop.

"Yeah... I just didn't think there'd be so much of it. I just..." You sigh, feeling defeated.

You'd had this problem since you were barely a teenager, and it only got worse after time. At least you stopped making yourself vomit up all your food.

You remember how badly it went when your mother caught you doing that.

In truth, you only started starving because... well. In school you were always insulted by the "prettier" girls. You'd always assumed you were pretty too, that's what your parents and relatives would always say. But being in the face of a gaggle of obnoxiously made-up girls rag on you in the lavatory, in gym class, or lunch... the pressure to be "thin" was hammered into you. If you looked like them, they would leave you alone.

And from there it went. You'd tried dating before, but none of your partners ever took care of you. Hell, one of them practically encouraged it and showed you diet pills online. You broke it off pretty quick after that.

Hobie was honestly the first to not automatically suggest you get locked in a mental ward, or just force yourself to scarf portions that were too much for your shrunken stomach to handle. Hobie was gentle and sweet, understanding with you.

Like he was right now.

"Well we can box it up and you can toast it up for later, alright?" He suggested.

His own plate was empty and your still practically full one wasn't lost on him. But he knew that directly pointing at the elephant in the room would only upset you.

His boot nudged your foot under the table and he gave you a smile, his eyes lighting up.

"Yeah.... yeah I can do that." You smile back sheepishly, letting Hobie flag down the server so he could pay (his treat, after all) and get you a to-go box.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Later that night, Hobie had reheated some leftovers from the night previous and toasted your chips and sandwich for you to finish off again; because ugh, nobody enjoyed soggy microwaved chicken and chips. And if they did they were a complete loon.

You sat snuggled up on the sofa, your food in your lap as Hobie's characteristically empty plate lay on the coffee table next to his propped up feet as the program droned on the television in front of you.

His hand rubbed your arm lazily up and down in a soothing motion as his eyes flicked down to your plate.

"You gon'a finish that, luv?" He hummed softly, kissing the top of your head.

"I..." You sighed down at the plate in your hands.

"'S all right." He mumbled into your hair. "But ya do worry me, baby. How about this... if you finish your food.... hm."

He looked at the ceiling and you could tell that he was faking thinking of something serious.

You knew it especially when he gave you a cocky smirk.

"If you finish your food, I'll do that thing you really like, for you, eh?"

"Hobie!" You snort, rolling your eyes at him.

"Oh? Not what you want, hm? How about..." He tapped his chin with his free hand, once again making a grand gesture of "deep" thought.

"Fine fine... how about we go to that li'le art museum you've been goin' on about?"

Your eyes light up and you look at him.

"Really?"

"Yep! Really. But only if you finish your food." He put a finger under your chin and kissed your nose.

"And eat breakfast tomorrow."

"Deal!"

Hobie smiled to himself as you tore into your food with motivation.

Being Spider-Man didn't always mean fighting the oppressive regime they were stuck with. It wasn't always about thwarting criminals in the streets.

Sometimes it was about coming home and making sure his girlfriend had enough to eat.

And that was plenty for him.

#answered #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader

229 notes · View notes

spider-stark · 1 year

Text

Anti-Hero // Hero x Villain Trope // pt. 2 //

Previous Part

Summary - Reader and Peter are both living double lives. Spider-Man is considered a national hero, while the reader is viewed as a criminal. In their personal lives, they're both head over heels for one another, their friendship finally blossoming into something more. But as vigilantes? It's complicated

Warnings - Blood, mentions of kidnapping/abuse, knife violence,

Word Count - 4.6k

Your foot bounced against the footrest of the barstool you were sat in, your patience wearing thinner and thinner with each passing minute. Another glance at your phone as it laid face up on the counter, confirming that it had now been twenty-five minutes past when you and Peter were supposed to meet.

Five more minutes, you told yourself, only five.

Peter Pan’s doorbell chimed as soon as the thought crossed your mind, as if Peter knew that you were getting painfully close to assuming that he had ditched you.

“Y/n!” He sounded like he had run several blocks just to get here, gasping for breath as he jogged over to where you sat. Your foot stilled at the sight of him, the anxiety of being stood-up immediately dissipating.

He slid onto the stool beside you, still struggling to steady his breathing. You grinned at him, and the sight only made his lungs feel tighter. “You’re late, Parker.”

A knowing tone, yet so light and playful, and it somehow held the power to wash away all the defeats he had faced today. It was one of the things Peter loved most about you, the way that you could melt all of his stress away, without even lifting a finger.

“I’m sorry.” He choked the apology out between labored breaths, his body finally settling enough to let him try to speak.

While Peter hadn’t run several blocks to get here, he did frantically swing a few dozen blocks, his muscles screaming out in pain the entire time. He was thankful that the annoying girl from earlier had been telling the truth when she said he would recover from the toxin, but he only managed to regain control over his motor skills with enough time to change clothes and come straight to Peter Pan’s to meet you.

She also could have mentioned that he would feel like he got hit by a bus afterwards.

“I started to think you were standing me up.” You admitted.

“Never!” Peter blurted the word out, squinting slightly under the fluorescent lights that only added to the pounding in his head. “Today just felt kind of… paralyzing, I guess.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at his own pun, knowing it would fly right over your head. “Had a hard time getting myself moving.”

Concern suddenly washed over your features, brows pulling together. “Do you feel sick or something?”

You didn’t wait for his answer, leaning forwards on your stool and placing the back of your hand against his forehead. The sudden contact had a blush creeping up his neck, his face beginning to turn red. “You do feel a bit warm.” You hummed with a frown. “You should’ve texted me if you didn’t feel good, we could’ve rescheduled.”

“No!” Another too-quick response, only deepening the crimson shade now painting his cheeks.“I feel great, promise.” He awkwardly cleared his throat, trying to sound a little less, well, excitable. “Just a rough day, ya know? Nothing worth rescheduling over! But I’m still really sorry that I’m late.”

Peter already wanted nothing more than to throw that sorry criminal in jail, if not for being a thief than for attempting to ruin his plans with you. God, they knew just how to get under his skin. He tried to shake the thoughts of them from his mind, wanting to focus entirely on you, his mind free of irritating distractions.

Today might have kicked his ass, but there was no way he would miss out on coming to see you. He struggled to make time for ‘Peter Parker’ things while managing to balance his duties as Spider-Man, but when it came to you? He would gladly shove Spider-Man to the side when possible.

“I get it.” You reassured him, a soft smile that had his heart melting. “My day wasn’t that great either, but that’s just how it goes sometimes, yeah?”

It really hasn't been a great day for you. Getting away from Spider-Man was the only thing that had gone right today. The job you were on earlier when Spidey had caught up to you ended up being a total bust after faulty intel led to your target getting away before you could even make a move. It threw things off for you—left you without a profit and forced you to evaluate your sources.

“Well,” you cleared the brief silence between the two of you, “do you wanna get started?”

Peter only stared at you, those beautiful brown eyes filled with little other than complete confusion as his mind lagged behind. You giggled at how dumbfounded he looked, and while he was slightly embarrassed, he also savored the sound of your laugh.

“On studying.” You clarified with your index finger tapping against the garishly colored chemistry textbook laid on the counter. “Our test is next week and I really don’t wanna fail Mr. Harrington’s class.”

Peter’s mouth formed a perfect O shape, his head nodding along as you reminded him of the reason why the two of you were meeting up today. Truth be told, he had been purposely letting himself forget about the ‘study’ part of your study date.

“Oh, yeah.” He shook his head a bit, keeping his gaze focused on the coffee-stained countertop in hopes that you wouldn’t see that he was still blushing. “Sorry, I’m still not all here yet.”

“We can still reschedule, ya know? If you’re just not feeling up to this right now.” You hesitantly reminded him, silently hoping that he would say no, that he would insist that he stay. It had been days since the two of you made these plans, and you had been looking forward to spending time with him.

“No, really, I’m fine!” Peter answered your silent pleading, adding a smile. “I think we need to be on page 279.”

You nodded in response, returning the expression before moving to flick through the pages of the book.

To be honest, Peter really couldn’t comprehend why you needed his help to pass Harrington’s class. In nearly every other subject you were at the top of your class, serving as one of his biggest academic competitors at Midtown. What he didn’t know, however, was that the only reason you needed his help was because of certain distractions in class.

Chemistry was the only class the two of you had together, and unfortunately that meant that the majority of it was spent with you staring at the back of Peter’s head and barely listening to a word Mr. Harrington said (too busy daydreaming about what it would be like to run your fingers through his gorgeous wavy hair). Your little crush had ultimately led to you just barely passing the class, which had turned out to be quite convenient, as it served as an excuse to ask Peter for help and get the chance to hangout with him outside of school.

“Oh c’monnn.” You groaned as you examined the page, immediately filled with dread when you read scientific notation printed in big bold letters.

“I promise it’s really not that hard!” Peter tried to assure you, hiding his amusement at your dramatic reaction as you pressed your forehead against the book, little sounds of protests still falling from your mouth. “You’ve got this, mkay? I’ve got full faith in you.”

“As sweet as that is, Parker,” your close proximity to the paper muffled your speech as you refused to face him, “math is actually my arch-nemesis. I’m horrible at it.”

Besides Spider-Man, you jokingly thought to yourself.

“It’s not nearly as bad as it sounds though!” Peter continued to make promises that did little to ease your dread. “Let’s just give it a try.”

You turned your head to the side just a bit, cheek still flush against the book as you looked over at him from the corner of your eye. “Do I even need to know how to do this? Like, if I don’t pursue a career in chemistry, will I ever need to actually understand scientific notation?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Give me an example.”

“I don’t know, what if you wanna figure out how many drops of water are in a river? You’d need scientific notation.”

You furrowed your brows at him, although still amused by the response. “Why would I ever wanna know that?”

Peter’s shoulders lifted into a shrug, an action he swiftly regretted as a burning pain coursed through his forearm, a reminder of the wound he sustained earlier that hadn’t quite healed yet. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Whoa.” You quickly straighten your posture, staring at him cautiously. “Are you good?”

He forced out a quiet mhm sound as he bit down on the inside of his cheek, desperately hoping the feeling would subside. Peter wasn’t used to his healing abilities being so impaired, yet another side effect of the toxin, and he had forgotten just how much it hurt to be injured.

“Are you sure?” You asked again, clearly not convinced by his less-than-impressive attempt at hiding his discomfort. “Is it your shoulder or back or something?”

Peter felt your hand coming towards him, his Spider-senses snapping him out of his current agony as you hovered just inches above the covered wound. He reached out and grabbed your wrist so suddenly that it made you gasp, shocked by how fast he had moved.

“Sorry.” He apologized, immediately loosening his grip. Your eyes remained wide, the shock still evident alongside a bit of suspicion. “I think I pulled something in my shoulder the other day and it’s still sorta tender to touch, ya know?”

He already felt guilty for the lie, but it was the best he could come up with to ensure you wouldn’t try to reach for him again. Coming up with lies was already difficult for him, and he had no clue how he’d be able to craft a story for how he ended up with a giant slice taken out of his arm if you found out.

“You really have the worst luck, don’t you?” You mused, your hand retreating back to your lap as you spoke. “I still have trouble believing that last week you accidentally ran into that streetlight and gave yourself a black eye!”

Peter laughed nervously, thinking back to the moment. Funny enough, he hadn’t really been lying about that one. Sure, he had been swinging and not running, but he did hit a streetlight. “What can I say? I’m just not the most coordinated.” He fidgeted in his seat, an action you equated to embarrassment.

In reality, the action had been fueled by anxiety. There had been too many close calls lately, too many instances where he had to make up an excuse for a bruise or a cut or whatever else, especially with the new girl running around. He was running out of lies to tell, and more than that, he was getting tired of having to lie.

“Well at least try and be more careful, alright?” You teased him, though your concern for him was still evident. While he might’ve hated lying about his injuries, he did quite enjoy the way you’d dote over him whenever you’d discover a new one, always desperate for your affection in whatever way he could receive it. “If I’m gonna pass chemistry then I’m gonna need my tutor in one piece!”

Peter grinned, returning your teasing tone, “If you’re gonna pass chemistry then you’re gonna need to learn scientific notation.”

You jutted your bottom lip out in a pout, a low groan following suit. “Fine.” You reached for the book, sliding it closer to the two of you while scooting your stool a bit closer to Peter’s. “But you owe me.”

“I owe you?” He shot you a bewildered stare, struggling not to laugh.

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“I’m the one helping you pass chemistry.” He noted, shifting his index finger from himself to you as he spoke. “So technically wouldn’t you be the one that owes me?”

“Nope. Pretty sure I was right. You owe me.” You feigned complete seriousness, mocking him by pointing your finger in his direction.

He decided to play along, electing to ignore the fact that you’re just procrastinating studying. “Okay, fine. So what do I owe you?”

You paused for a moment, a mischievous look appearing on your face, causing Peter to raise a brow at you. “A date.” You declared confidently, taking advantage of the opportunity. “A real one. No school stuff or anything.”

Peter felt his heart skip in his chest.

“Deal.”

Maybe learning scientific notation was worth it.

Coming to Queens was a risky move, one that you didn’t like to make often. It was one of two places in the city that you liked to avoid—the other being Hell’s Kitchen—in an attempt to try and avoid running into anyone with devil horns or spiderwebs.

Luckily, your line of work typically kept you out of the ‘problem’ areas of the city. The majority of your targets were New York's wealthiest, the kind of people that wouldn’t so much as dream of stepping foot outside of Manhattan.

You much preferred meeting them in their own territory, finding it all the more enjoyable to toy with them in the places where they felt safest. But, sometimes, that just wasn’t a possibility for one reason or another. Despite that, bringing your business into Spider-Man’s self proclaimed home territory was always a dangerous move.

In this case, though, it was unavoidable.

For months you had kept a close eye on councilman Rupert Fletcher, a man that many others in your circle had tried to go after, only to fail time after time. At first, you struggled to understand how so many accomplished thieves had somehow been stumped on such a painfully average man.

Despite Fletcher's status as a councilman, he was of little importance, his wealth being the only thing to put a target on his back. On the surface, he lived a rather average life of a man in his position.

He owned a sizable penthouse on the Upper East Side that he shared with his wife and their french bulldog. A quick peek at his schedule revealed that his weekdays were typically spent in the office, the deviation being an occasional conference. His weekends were always the same, a trip to the country club in Spring Valley to decompress and unwind.

There were sizable gaps in his schedule, several windows of time where his apartment was left unoccupied, with his weekend trips to the country club and his wife’s recent trip back to her home country for family matters—essentially meaning that Rupert Fletcher was every thief’s wet dream. Yet, even the craftiest of them all came out empty handed, claiming the man’s home was unusually bare. There was nothing of much importance in it, no safes filled with cash, no lavish jewelry. It was painfully basic, appearing as little more than a model home. Every one that dared to go after him all left the same: empty handed.

You started to think you hit a dead end with him, after questioning every single person in your circle, desperate to dig up something on him. That is until a tiny girl by the name of Red made an offhand comment, one she clearly thought was of little importance.

“The best I got out of it was this Dukes of Hazzard keychain,” she flashed a disturbing grin, the street lights illuminating the silver caps on her teeth, “better than nothin, right?”

It was better than nothing. A lot better.

While the keychain itself was rather stupid and not something you cared about, there had been a dingy key dangling off of it, a tag attached that read: StorageMart #813. At first you considered the thought that it had belonged to Red, but given the fact that a pristine Bugatti key hung alongside it, you quickly decided that it must’ve been Fletchers.

That same night, you broke into the office of the StorageMart that night, combing through their records until you found payment receipts for unit 813. It hadn’t shocked you when you saw it was purchased under a different last name: Petrov. You recognized it as his wife’s maiden name, a fact learned through your prior research on him. With confirmation that it was his unit, you wasted no time with swiping a key from the utility office and heading straight for the unit.

Its contents were a mystery to you, your imagination running wild. What could it be? Diamonds? Gold bars? A Dukes of Hazzard boxset? You weren’t sure, and truthfully, you didn’t care all that much as long as it was something of value. You didn’t know what he was hiding in the unit, but what you did know was that Rupert Fletcher was a bad man, and he deserved to pay for it.

And discovering what he had worked so hard to keep secret only cemented that fact.

The first thing you saw was a mattress laid out on the cold cement floor, a tattered blanket with the thickness of a sheet of newspaper spread across it. Beside it was a dingy orange bucket, the scent of what was inside practically overwhelming your senses entirely. You almost considered slamming the door shut, almost decided to cut your losses and get out of there before you emptied the contents of your stomach on the floor and left evidence of your presence.

But then, you heard it. A faint voice, small and fragile, the words in a language you didn’t know. You didn’t need to understand what she said to know who she was, though, to know that you had finally caught Fletcher in his biggest crime of all.

A bit of gossip tends to go a long way. It took a bit of work to find out where the women in Fletcher’s wife’s inner circle like to hang out, but it turned out to be well worth the struggle as all of them sat amongst themselves at lunch and chatted about how she had been threatening divorce months prior, and their theories of what he had done to her upon finding out, entirely unaware of the listening ear just a table over. A bit more digging led to gaining even more intel on Fletcher’s past tumultuous relationships, only furthering the suspicions.

“Ms. Petrov?” You purposely opted to avoid use of her married name, hoping that it would indicate to her that you were there to help, not to cause further harm.

The woman was emaciated and looked as if she were just days away from death, and you struggled to hide your shock. “I’m gonna get you out of here, alright?” A promise you intended on keeping.

A huge part of you wanted to take the story public, to take pictures of the unit before he could destroy any evidence she was here and send it straight to the Daily Bugle. Jameson was an asshole, but he was never one to miss out on a good story. But, despite your desire to see Fletcher’s mugshot on the news, you bit your tongue.

It wasn’t your story to share. And, even if Petrov had wanted to come clean and expose him to the world, men like Fletcher were rarely forced to deal with the consequences of what they’d done. He was too wealthy, too well-known, too powerful.

Which was exactly why you were back here in Queens, at the same shabby StorageMart you had pulled Fletcher’s wife from just a few days ago. She was safe, staying in a women's shelter upstate, already beginning to plan her trip back home where she would be away from Fletcher for good. There was just one thing she needed before she could make her escape.

“Thanks Rupey.” You sang over your shoulder, lazily wiping the ruby stained blade against your pants, “It was a pleasure doing business with ya.”

He coughed a few obscenities in your direction, but made no move towards you as you headed towards the door of unit 813, too weak to move from where he laid on the floor. Everyone liked to put on a good show at the end, run their mouth just enough to make themselves feel like they put up a fight. You usually ignored it. Usually.

“How much did you take?” He spat in your direction, your footsteps falling silent as you paused by the door.

You didn’t like his tone, the arrogance in his voice, his domineering attitude. You were a bit shocked that he had any snide remarks left in him, and even more shocked that he could even form words after you knocked two of his teeth loose.

“I took what I needed.” You assured him, your own tone calm and collected in comparison to his. “And then some. Gotta make a profit in this business somehow, Rupe.”

His wife had told you he would be here tonight, promised that he came by every other day just to chuck some food in her direction and try to convince her to reconsider her decision to leave him. Waiting for him was easy, since she said that Fletcher liked to stick to a tight schedule, and incapacitating him was even easier.

A quick slash to the forehead, just a half an inch above his brows. It was the easiest way to stun someone, there were enough capillaries in the forehead to cause profuse bleeding that would eventually impair their vision, making it even easier to keep control over the situation. Immobilizing him wasn’t hard either, a quick jab to his right leg, maybe two or so inches deep. Deep enough that the average person wouldn’t be able to keep their weight on it without passing out from the pain, but nowhere deep enough that he would bleed out from the wound.

After that, it was as easy and slipping his phone out of his pocket, forcing him to use touch-ID to get into his bank account (threatening to cut off someone's thumb makes it quite easy to get them to follow instructions) and then transferring a couple hundred thousand dollars to an untraceable bank account you had a friend set up for his wife. Fletcher had been the one to ruin her life and damn near kill her, it was only fair that he was the one to pay for her new one, especially if that was the only justice she’d ever get.

“They’re gonna find you–” Fletcher swore, his strained voice growing louder as you moved to open the door, “I have cameras set up in here! There’s cameras all over this fucking property! The cops are gonna find you!”

You gave him a quick glance over your shoulder, your mask still secured over your face, confident that the NYPD would find nothing that could trace back to you. Not any more than they already had, that is. “You’re not gonna tell them shit.” You laughed at him, rolling your eyes, “You think I wasn’t smart enough to hack into your stupid security cameras and duplicate the footage? I have hours of it, Fletcher. Hours of you torturing your wife, keeping her caged up in here like some sort of animal.” He didn’t respond, barely moved a muscle as his face paled. “You tell a single soul what happened here tonight, and I’ll send the footage off to every news station in New York. Got it?”

You didn’t need to wait for confirmation, aware that men like Fletcher would do anything to avoid bad press. He would make up a story, the same way all of them did. A mugging gone wrong or some stupid lie, anything to paint himself the victim and keep his wrongdoings away from the public. You looked forward, savoring the feeling of the cold Winter air kissing your skin as you let the door slam shut behind you, relaxation washing over you at the thought of finally getting to go home.

“Do I wanna know what you were doing in there?”

Well, so much for relaxation.

You glanced up, immediately noticing Spider-Boy crouched on the unit across from 813. “What are you even doing here?” You asked him, an exasperated groan following after. “Like, seriously, do you have a tracker on me or something? I’m gonna get you one of those little collars with a bell on it, the kind for cats, ya know? That way you at least can’t sneak up on me.”

Spider-Man narrowed his eyes at you, and your lip curled in response. You didn’t like the way the whites of his mask moved to match his expressions, finding it a bit unnerving. “What were you doing?” He asked again, ignoring your previous sarcastic remarks.

“Why don’t you go look for yourself?” You jutted your thumb over your shoulder, pointing towards the unit door where Fletcher’s groans of pain should still be faintly heard. “Cause I’m a bit tired from doing your job and all, so I’d rather skip the small talk tonight and head home.”

He scoffed, still perched atop the building, staring down at you. “Doing my job?”

You nodded. “Uh, yeah. Did I stutter or something?”

“How were you doing my job?” He rephrased his question, annoyed by your constant habit of avoidance.

“Do your own research for once, Spider-Kid.” You told him lazily, shaking your head as you began to continue your walk towards the exit gates of the StorageMart. “Maybe then you’ll realize we aren’t quite as different as you think.”

The nickname annoyed Peter, but he tried to shake it off, aware that it was just another way you tried to get under his skin and throw him off. He swiftly jumped from the building, landing directly in your path to keep you from leaving. Before his feet even touched the ground you already had a knife drawn, as if you had predicted his movement.

“While I commend you for wanting to stop me,” you spoke slowly, the tip of your blade pointed at his throat—it was an empty threat, as you knew that you would never strike what would most certainly be a fatal blow against him, although he didn’t know that and chose to keep a safe enough distance. “There’s a man in there that’s in desperate need of medical attention. I suggest you run off to be a hero and get him to a hospital.”

Peter’s eyes shifted towards the unit, his amplified hearing allowing him to hear Fletcher’s heartbeat from where he stood. You were right; and while he didn’t sound like he was on the verge of death, he needed a hospital, and a fight with you was one he wasn’t confident he would win—not quick enough, at least, to justify leaving a wounded man to suffer.

“We’re very different.” He promised you, taking a step back to show that he was backing down. To show that he was a hero, that he would prioritize a civilian's life over stroking his own ego by attempting to capture you right now. The two of you were nothing alike—Peter worked to protect this city, locking criminals up and fighting alongside the Avengers. And you? “You’re a villain.”

You snorted at his dramatic choice of words, still armed and prepared to strike if he made a move towards you. He didn’t, though, taking a few more steps backwards towards Fletcher’s unit.

“Villain’s such a harsh word.” You clicked your tongue, chastising him, making his blood boil as he had to use all the restraint in his body to prevent himself from going after you as you readied yourself to dart for the exit.

“I prefer anti-hero.”

tag list: @llovergirlll @hpchosen1 @vintageoldfashion

470 notes · View notes

soulofapatrick · 1 year

Text

Birthday Surprises - Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: Oscar gives you the task to distract Pedro so they can break into his apartment and set it up for a surprise birthday party - both you and Pedro get more than you planned for

Words: 2.4K

Warnings: none I think

Notes HAPPY BIRTHDYA TO THE BEAUTIFUL AND HUMBLE MAN THAT IS PEDRO FUCKING PASCAL

--------

Y/N’s POV

My heart pounds in my chest as I knock on Pedro’s door, Oscar having given me his address with one specific detail: get Pedro out of the house by 1pm and keep him out until 6pm. It’s his birthday and we want to surprise him with a small gathering, knowing he’s been stressed recently with The Mandalorian and The Last of Us press tours and the fans wanting to know his every move.

Before I can have any doubts about this the door swings open and a very sleepy Pedro appears. He looks fucking amazing in just his shorts and a loose lakers tee shirt, fluffy hair standing up in all different directions as if he’s just run his hands through it. He seems to light up when he sees me, the frown slipping from his soft features as he ushered me in. The door shutting with a soft click and he’s herding me to the kitchen where I see a massive stack of pancakes ready to slide off the plate.

“Happy Birthday Pepsi,” I laugh softly, turning to face him and pull him into a hug. I’m not much of a hugger but Pedro… I will never say no to a Pedro hug. His chest rumbles with laughter as he wraps his strong arms around my shoulders and rocks us on the spot as he presses a smiled kiss to my temple. I don’t know how long we stand there but we only separate when Pedro suddenly lets me go with a cry of ‘save the pancakes’ and I’m just watching him race around the island and steady the pile with one fatality.

He’s laughing and pointing towards a cupboard for me to get another plate, “Come on sweetheart, we’ll share the birthday pancakes. I made too many for myself anyway!”

“Alright but I have an afternoon planned for us and you can’t say no.” I shoot back, grabbing another plate and helping Pedro dish out the pancakes before both plates get placed on the island. He buzzed around the kitchen, grabbing all sorts of things like whipped cream; sugar; lemon juice and syrup before joining me, “That’s a lot of sugar.”

“It’s my birthday.” He grins around a mouthful of pancake and whipped cream, bright and bubbly like a child. I can’t keep the fond smile off my lips, shaking my head fondly at him as he giggles. Fuck me he’s so cute and I wish this was everyday life for me, getting to wake up and have breakfast everyday with him and be able to kiss the bit of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth but this isn’t my life. I’m just here to help a few friends out and before I can stop myself I’m swiping the cream from his lips, going to wipe it on my jeans when those very same lips wrap around my thumb and his tongue darts over the pad of it before he’s pulling back with a ‘pop’ and a cheeky grin, “I’ll go get dressed.”

Despite being spring the breeze was still cold and harsh, rustling hair and tugging at our coats that are tightly wrapped around ourselves. Pedro is telling me how last year he had a quiet birthday with his family who came to visit him and he made them a traditional chilean meal, it was apparently his mother’s favourite meal. My hand found his when he told me that, the sadness in his voice evident despite how hard he’s trying to hide it, gently squeezing his large hand comfortingly and getting that softest smile in return.

I had definitely had reservations about becoming an actress when I had seen how pompous and self-centred they could be, scared I would end up just like them but I quickly found my group of people who I couldn’t live without. I met Pedro through Oscar Isaac after being an extra in Star Wars, not sure why Oscar decided to become my friend but here we are now years later. I owe a lot to Oscar as he got me my role as Bobbi Morse aka Mockingbird in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D and it was my breakout role really. I wouldn’t be where I am right now, having worked with major stars I could only have dreamt working for, and currently walking along side the most humble and warmhearted celeb I have ever met.

Pedro is currently eyeing up a cafe across the street from us, eyes flicking between the cafe and me with his bottom lip jutted out in a pout and his honey eyes all wide and innocent as he flutters his eyelashes at me. A simple look would have gotten me to say yes but what he’s doing in making me weak at the knees so I just fake sigh and pull him towards the cafe, hearing the triumphant sound he lets out.

The coffee shop is a cozy haven tucked away on a quiet street corner. Pedro moving closer to me in excitement as we step inside, the sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling my senses, instantly calming me. The shop fills with natural light streaming through the large windows, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere and none of that fake brightness lightbulbs give in quaint places like this.

The walls are adorned with local artwork and framed photographs, giving the space a personal touch. The wooden floors creaking underfoot, adding to the charm of the place. The furniture is an eclectic mix of cozy armchairs, wooden tables, and benches that looked like they had been there for decades. Behind the counter, a barista greets us with a smile, ready to take our order. The menu written on a chalkboard, which I take the time to look art despite knowing exactly what Pedro and I will have to drink. We get the same things every time so I go ahead and order.

“Hey! Could we get a caramel macchiato and an iced quad espresso with extra ice and six shots please.” I tell him and he raises an eyebrow at Pedro’s six extra shots but a warm smile replaces it when he sees Pedro staring at the pastries and small cakes with his face and hands practically pressed to the glass. It catches me off guard as it’s the smile you give a couple when you see them do something cute and deeply romantic. I should correct him and tell him he’s wrong but instead I add to my order. “Could you add two caramel doughnuts to that.” and I don’t regret it when Pedro’s face lights up even more.

Pedro is practically bouncing on the spot as we wait for the coffee and doughnuts, watching the barista prepare them with such love and care while I scan the cafe, It’s quiet and calm with the only other occupants being a group of friends huddled together in a corner, chatting and laughing and a couple sat across the cafe, lost in conversation. The sound of clinking cups and spoons fill the air as I thank the barista and grab our cups while Pedro practically snatches up the doughnuts, having already taken a bite out of one of them before we can sit down.

“Mmmmm, so fucking good, we - me and you -“ He waves a hand between us, almost knocking his coffee over, “We are coming here very often.”

“I can get behind that.” I agree as I take my first sip of my macchiato. It’s the best macchiato I’ve tried, the rich and complex flavours making me groan lightly into my cup and I don’t miss the way Pedro’s honey eyes sparkle with amusement. It’s too damn good to care, I’ve made my fair share of coffees as a barista before I became an actor and no way have I ever been able to make one this good. The smooth and velvety texture of the steamed milk adds a layer of creaminess that beautifully balances the espresso's bitterness. It is like a dance between the two flavours, with each one complementing the other perfectly. But the real star of the show is the caramel syrup. It is sweet and slightly nutty in flavour which adds such a warm and decadent sweetness that lingered on my taste buds.

“You’re making out with that coffee.” Pedro smirks and I’m spluttering.

“Just because I have actual coffee and not six shots of hyper,” I retort, sticking my tongue out at him, “Whatever this barista has done it’s really fucking good. Like a fucking work of art, a symphony of flavours perfectly crafted and blended to make this-“

“You’re cute when you nerd out. You know so much about coffee.”

“I was a barista before I became an actor.”

The afternoon continues like that, Pedro and I finding topics to discuss or bicker over but each of us avoiding the topic of our shows and movies. We have an agreement that we talks about normal things, like we aren’t famous or noticeable. Pedro tells me all about his family and I always listen intently as they’re such great people and he seems so close to them it makes me a little jealous as I broke a lot of bonds with my parents when I became an actress. I think out of everyone in his family I would love to meet Lux as she is crafted by the gods themselves and she just seems such a strong and passionate woman with a lot to say and no fear in saying it. She seems dedicated to what she does and seeing pictures and videos of her and Pedro I can see an unbreakable bond that I can’t wait to see in person if Pedro would ever allow me.

I had told Pedro about my parents and how they had reacted badly to it all. My dad wanted me to become a machine and sit at a desk doing a nine to five job until I get old and die. My dad kicked me out while my mum had shook her head and let me pack my bags, not knowing that I had sent a message to my older brother. My brother had become my pillar of support and Pedro had sat there with pain in his eyes and a hurt look on his face when I had told him everything. He had promised me that he would always be there for me and I could always find him if needs be which really solidified the growing feeling I have towards him.

We were on our second round of drinks when my phone buzzes with a message from Oscar.

‘Mission birthday boy is go.’

Then another comes through before I can text back, shielding my phone from Pedro despite the small pout on the older man’s lips as I never hide my phone from him, I could never as I have nothing to hide from the man I am head over heels for but right now Oscar needs me to be secretive.

‘That means get your asses here now.’

‘Be there in 10.’

Pedro turns his key in the lock and swings the door open to darkness. He frowns at me, raising an eyebrow in question as we step inside but I stay silent, seeing the smallest amount of movement as I shut the door. As soon as the door clicks shut the room lights up and erupts with cries of “SURPRISE!”

The birthday boy lets out a shriek of surprise before accepting the hug Oscar pulls him into, the pair laughing and hugging. I think they probably would have stayed like that for longer if Sarah hadn’t wrangled Pedro out of Oscar's arms. All I can do is watch: the apartment filled with weighed down balloons; birthday banners strung up and a small feast of food spread out upon the kitchen island while Oscar joins me leaning against the wall by the door.

“You did good,” He bumps my shoulder and I laugh softly, taking the beer he’s holding out and leaning my head on his shoulder. There’s not many people here, around 25, and they’re all giving their birthday wishes to Pedro who is practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. I can’t stop the fond smile as he is so happy, eyes sparkling and hands flailing excitedly while Oscar turns his head and presses a kiss to my hair before mumbling, “There’s a surprise for you too.”

“For me?” I frown up at him but I don’t get to pry more when Pedro makes his way back over, a grin so wide I think his face may split into two. He pulls me away from Oscar who takes my beer from me, shrugging with fake innocence when Pedro stops us by the floor to ceiling windows he has in his top floor apartment. His large and soft hands slide up my arms, stopping when they’re cupping my jaw.

“You organised this for me?” His voice is low and gentle, eyes wide in awe and I go to protest but I realise what Oscar meant so I just nod, scared to see his next move. His ducks his head a little, nose bumping mine a little and I can’t stop the squeal of surprise when his nose is cold and the feel of his warm breath ghosting my face is almost overwhelming. My heart jackhammers in my chest, my eyes slipping shut at the first brush of his pillowy lips in mine. It’s a gentle kiss, full of tenderness and love, nearly knocking me off my feet and how he can make it feel like nothing else matters as I melt into his embrace. It’s just him and me, lost in the passion that comes with a first kiss.

But the cheering and whooping brings me back to reality, my face heating up and I’m hiding in Pedro’s shirt as he chuckles. Mixture of emotions fill my chest: excitement, nervousness and a rush of adrenaline. His heart is racing just as fast as mine, a small moment of pure intimacy despite the many people observing our interactions. The hug is long and lingering, and as we pull away, I look up into his warm honey eyes and see a mix of emotions there as well. It’s like we both know that something special had just happened between us, and we are both feeling the weight of the moment, knowing we’re in this together and all of our friends couldn’t be happier for us.

“Happy Birthday Pepsi.”

“Best birthday present mi cariño.”

----------

Tag List Form

@clover723 @a-psych0s-w0rld @sexyvixen7 @iraot @gemimawrites @pedropascalsrealhusband @twopercentmilk @amythenortherner @sxnshinebxcky @nelsoomon @urnewghostfriend @grooveandshit @reyas-world @canpillowscry @androgynoysgaz @outl4wage @ginger-swag-rapunzel @quinnverses @librafilms @leonkennedyslefthand @notsosecretspy @intergalacticspacemonkey @certifiedhunter @yourmommilf @mediocrewallflow3r @fariylixie0915 @randomhoex @secretsthathauntus @ems-alexandra @pedr0swh0r3 @quinnsgrapejuice @marvelsimps @cutesyscreenname @missmomiverse @thesapphirequeen

507 notes · View notes

halsteadlover · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: after a long day at work, the only thing Spencer wants to do is go back home to his family.

• Warnings: none, just fluff.

• Word count: 1814.

• A/N: here is my first Spencer fic. It’s ugly as fuck and I wanted it do be better but I hope you’ll like it, I’m sorry for this but it’s just a period of time where I’m not feeling 100% myself so that’s what I managed to do lol. Let me know what do you think, likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Thank you for your constant support. Love you all ❤️

Spencer was as tired as he'd been a few times in his life.

The case the team had worked on had been particularly stressful, tiring and draining like few others and even though it had only been four days since the team had left for Boston, it felt like they had lasted forever.

And the distance from his family helped to further increase this already particularly precarious state of mind. It wasn't the first time he was forced to fly away for days to another city for work but that didn't make it any easier, especially then, because it wasn't just you and him anymore, but there was also little Reid.

It was incredible how such a small little being had managed to turn his life upside down, in such an overwhelming way he couldn't even stay a minute without thinking of him and without feeling the desire to hold him in his arms and fill him with cuddles.

Even staying away from you had become much more difficult than he could’ve ever imagined. He couldn't quite explain why, but ever since the baby was born he felt the bond with you had strengthened even more. He had heard so many stories of couples who couldn't resist, who got carried away by events and weren't strong enough to overcome the present difficulties and it was impossible to explain why, God, he worshiped the earth you walked on and he would’ve done anything to ensure your well-being, after all it was the least he could do for the mother of his child.

Ever since you told him you were pregnant and throughout the pregnancy until you became parents, it was as if he started to look at you with different eyes and the love he felt towards you increased dramatically, which he didn't even believe possible since he already loved you like crazy like he never did in his life.

Seeing you become the beautiful mother you were meant to be, carrying his child, God, he would’ve impregnated you every day if he could and if it was simple.

If anyone had ever told him he’d find the love of his life, that he’d marry you and have a child with you, he would probably have burst out laughing because he never, ever expected to be overwhelmed by such joy and to experience such a miracle.

And it was enough for him to cross the threshold of your home for him to feel that emptiness inside him finally filled again, happiness crossing him when he heard your voice mixed with little Reid's giggles.

Spencer walked into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest as he took a moment to watch you and your baby together. He was sitting in his high chair, his little legs and arms flapping in the air, his little face dirty with the food you desperately tried to give him but which he refused.

That simple scene put a huge smile onto Spencer's face and it was at that precise moment he wondered how he had ever lived without this.

You were gorgeous. Your hair gathered in a bun, your home clothes slightly soiled with food while you tried to distract your little one so you could feed him but in doing so you yourself distracted yourself, not realizing Spencer's presence.

Damn it, how had he gotten so lucky? What had he done to deserve such a perfect family?

“Hello my loves,” Spencer had announced and at that point you turned abruptly towards him, a huge smile on your face not expecting to see him and the spoon suspended in mid-air.

“Baby oh my god! When did you come back?!” you asked and before you could get up to say hello he approached you, placing his hands on your shoulders and giving you a kiss on your lips. He wanted that little kiss to last forever, making him realize how much he missed you, so much more than he thought.

“I just got back darling, I wanted to surprise you,” he replied with a smile on his lips and stroking your hair before returning his eyes to his baby, who at the mere sight of his father began to fidget more in his high chair, a huge smile on his little face. “And who do we have here? Hey, you little one! Come here to your pops.”

Before you could object by telling him you were trying to get him to eat, Spencer took him in his arms and the joy that overwhelmed him when after all that time he hugged his son again was priceless. “God I missed you so much little man,” he murmured as he kissed his little one's chubby cheeks not caring they were dirty with food. His laughter echoed through the kitchen, making your heart leap with joy.

It was so hard when Spencer was away for work, you couldn't deny it, but it was times like these that made the distance, the anxiety and worry worth it.

“You treated your gorgeous mom right huh? Have you been a good boy?” Spencer asked, as if his son could answer.

“Da-da-da...” the little boy kept babbling and you wanted to immortalize Spencer's expression after hearing his son say 'dad' for the first time.

“What?” Spencer murmured, incredulous, looking at you for a moment just to make sure you heard that too. “Can you repeat for me baby? Dada, yes say it again, da-da.”

“Da-da-...” your baby kept babbling while his sticky little hands continued to touch his father's face and it was at that moment you noticed Spencer's eyes fill with tears, while he tried to hold them back and not cry. Out of joy and contentment he started to kiss and tickle his baby, over and over again, eliciting uncontrolled laughter from him.

“Yeah! That's my buddy!” Spencer exclaimed before showering the boy with kisses, who kept squeezing and returning those kisses as best he could. “Yes! Oh my god! Yes I’m your dada!”.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he whispered, rubbing his nose tenderly against his son's. Your heart peeped into your chest and never as in that precise moment you felt more proud of your family, of the love your child would always receive from both parents.

You continued to watch that tender and very sweet scene, Spencer who continued to talk and look at his son as if he was the most beautiful of wonders.

Spencer wasn't joking when he said that little creature had saved his life, he made him a better husband, a better man, he made him love life even more and had made him understand how precious it was.

He had never been good at dealing with feelings, he was a scientific person, he believed in science, in evidence, in hypotheses that were verified, but everything that happened to him when he was with you, with his baby, was beyond rationality, the love he felt for you two couldn’t be described, it was a visceral love that could not be enclosed in a few simple words.

“You are the best thing that has happened to my life, your mom seriously couldn't have given me a better present and I am so proud of you,” he kissed mini Spencer's little forehead “I'm so sorry I was gone buddy, I’d never want to be away from you and your mama.”

He directed his gaze to you for an instant, a frown on his face as he noticed the tears streaming down your face, which you tried to wipe away in time but to no avail.

“Hey, baby what's wrong? Come here.”

Spencer drew you to him and surrounded your shoulders with his free arm, squeezing you and leaving a kiss on your forehead. “Nothing bad love, it's just… I'm so happy, you make me so happy. I couldn't ask for a better father for my son.”

He smiled but burst out laughing immediately afterwards when your baby stretched out his arm towards you and grabbed a lock of hair that had escaped the bun with his little hand, ruining that beautiful moment. Damn, how could a person of not even 50 centimeters tall have such strength?

“Hey, hey, no buddy no hurting mommy,” Spencer interjected, pulling your hair out of his hand.

“Oh you're so lucky you're so cute or you were going to have some problems mister, yeah! You're so cute baby, you like hurting mama yeah? Can you say mama?” you said smiling, however pointing a finger at him while instead he continued to laugh and giggle in Spencer's arms, amused by the situation.

“Da-dada-da…”

Your smile instantly disappeared from your face and Spencer started laughing heartily again, head thrown back.

“Yeah! That's my little boy! Dada yes!” he exclaimed, lifting him back into the air a couple of times before showering him with kisses.

“Oh so that’s how are things going mister? Did I go through 20 hours of labor for being disrespected like this?” you affirmed with feigned disappointment and hands on hips, but trying not to smile when you saw Spencer jumping and playing with the baby.

“I love you mommy but I love dada more,” Spencer raised his voice a couple of octaves in an attempt to mimic a child's.

“You're gonna pay so much for this Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“I’ll wait for you with immense pleasure my darling,” he winked at you and just that small action made you want to have ten more children.

You sighed, shaking your head in mock disappointment. “Since you're such best friends you'll be the one to keep feeding him while I'm going to take a nice hot bath,” you approached Spencer, giving him a kiss on the cheek and whispering in his ear “And I'll think of you so intensely when I'll be naked as I soap my wet body and touch myself.”

Spencer was mesmerized and paralyzed for a moment, his blood instantly flowing to his private parts at the mere thought of you naked. His eyes scanned every inch or of your body, devouring your ass with his gaze until your figure disappeared down the aisle.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, “You heard that buddy?” he turned to the baby “How about we take a deal? Now you'll be a good boy and you'll eat everything okay? So I'll give you a nice bath and you'll go to sleep, because dad misses mom so much and he would love to be alone with her. Yes little one, you’re such a good little boy,” he continued carefully placing his baby in his high chair and tying the hooks before starting to feed him again “I’m so proud of you, yes keep eating so in a while it will be dada's turn to pull mama’s hair.”

General Tag List: @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone

Spencer Reid tag list: @hngbrooks, @blorp-bee

Click here to be added to the tag list ❤️

Main Masterlist

Spencer Reid Masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Side blog -> @halsteadloverslibrary

609 notes · View notes

arelluv · 2 months

Text

Billy Loomis x Reader (smut)

MINORS DNI.

! No protection, knife, stalking ! ( 18 + )

(A:N this is my first time writing smut yall, i hope yall enjoy 😭🤍)

It was a friday night, your father was out of town for business. Your mother passed away, the year before so you were all alone. You just finished your homework, it was already stressful enough that you were alone, depressed, and suddenly hearing about murders going on. The Tv was on, you were seeing that there was someone killing teenage girls and guys. They don't know who's done this but it is someone who definitely lives around YOUR area.

Most of the people who were killed, were people you knew (just acquaintances). You were just in your head thinking about who could it possibly be doing this. No one in your school seemed suspicious enough to do this, no one really had such visible hatred toward one another.

Another hour had passed, it has started raining. You were bored, out of your mind. You read your book and tried to distract yourself from whatever you could possibly think of. Suddenly you heard your phone ringing. You knew no one would ever call you during this time, especially at night. You thought it probably was your dad. You pick up.

"Hello?", you asked with an uncertain tone.

"Hello Y/N" , an unknown voiced announced itself.

"Who's this?", you started to worry, especially with seeing the news earlier... this didn't help.

this unknown person asked, laughing abit, "Do you..have a partner Y/N?"

"Why would you want to know?" you asked with a tone of rudeness.

"Because I just want to know. Answer me.", he stated, starting to seem impatient.

Being the smartass that you are, you said, "First off, you haven't answered my first question. Who are YOU? And if you answer, I'll answer your question."

"Fine, I'm ghostface. You've probably heard about me on Tv. Now answer my question." he said with certainty.

"You're...him.", you started breathing heavily, "And yes, I have a boyfriend. Why are you interested in knowing about that?"

"I'll ask you one last thing," he said dodging your question, "is his name Billy?", he asked, sounding like he put on a grin.

"How do you know about him?!" you asked in shocked, this ghostface person knows you. He's the one killing the classmates you knew. Is he after you next?

You hear no one at the other end. Wondering what's happening. You lock your windows. Close your curtains. You immediately go downstairs and lock every door that could possibly be accessed from the outside. But you heard a knock..

You go back running to your room, turning off the lights. Forgetting that the phone is still on. You grab your phone, and hold it up to your ear.

"Why'd you lock the doors? You scared I'm gonna come in and gut you like a fish? Hm?" he asked, laughing.

You started to fear him, what could you have possibly done to this person? What did he have against you and why was he so interested in knowing if you were with billy? "Please I don't have anything you need or want! Why are you doing this to me?", you started to tear up and your throat was starting to hurt.

"You are what I need, Y/N.", ghostface started grinning like a freak, he asked, "Do you really love this boyfriend of yours?". He sounded more genuine asking this question like your answer really meant something to him.

"Yes, I love him. I'd do anything for Billy. I'll never give myself up to you even if it meant that you'd kill me", you knew you were screwed answering him like this, but you really meant it. Billy was your whole world and the only person to look after you and understand you. He cured your depression after your mother passed away, he was always doing the most for you. Your father turned into an alcoholic after your mother passed, so you had no one but Billy. him.

"Oh really? Mmh-" he asked but he was grunting. You heard some other noise but couldn't make anything else out if it.

But oh he was going insane. The fact that you would do anything for him, made him go crazy. He was so turned on that he couldn't hold back. He started to stroke his cock, slowly up and down. Hearing the wet sounds, thinking of you giving him a wet blowjob right there with such a hot fucking face. He would never hurt you, he just felt such a thrill hearing you scared and hopeless.

"Open your door now. Or else." he said, still outside of your house. He pulled his cock back in, not finished with himself. He started feeling frustrated.

"No, my boyfriend will come right now! You better be gone by then. I'm never going to let you in!!" you yelled, you knew you couldn't contact Billy right now. But you had to lie so you can get out of this situation.

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that." he suddenly hung up.

You were scared knowing that you'll possibly die in matter of seconds or minutes. You grabbed anything in your room that could help with self defense and you grabbed your phone to call 911 but before you could.. you heard a knock on your window. You could see a familiar shadow behind your light curtains. You were sure it was Billy, you took a very small peak. It was him!

You opened the window very quick. Gasping and breathing heavily with anxiety and fear you said, "Billy! Why would you do that?!"

"Do what?" he asked seeming "surprised", "what happened, are you okay??"

"I'm not okay, this fucking killer from TV called me. He apparently knows about us, and I think he's stalking me!? He's right outside the house, threatening to come in.. " you were talking fast from fear, "and then YOU came knocking on my window and -"

Billy interrupted, "Take a deep breath, no one was outside Y/N. You'll be okay, I'm right here.", he gave you a hug and you could feel the wetness of his shirt since it was raining. He looked so hot in that white shirt, it was see through so you could see his toned abs and vline.

He departed from you, and looked at you, up and down. Looking amused. You thought he didn't seem too shocked about the news you told him, and nor did he seem to have any fear in his eyes..

You then look at his hands, a knife? You looked at him with shock. You were so scared of ghostface you didn't pay any attention to Billy's knife. (but you sure payed attention to those abs 🤨)

You slowly started walking back, almost tripping. You couldn't believe it, was ghostface him? Was he ghostface? The person that meant the most to you? How could it possibly, out of ANYONE, be him? "Y/N it's not what it seems... i promise.", Billy was trying to reassure you, as he was walking towards you.

You ran to your door and tried to unlock it but before you could, Billy grabbed your waist. He held his hand to your mouth before you could make any noise. "Don't scream, or else.", he knew he couldn't nor would he hurt you but he had to make sure you wouldn't scream. He then threw you on your bed, he got on top of you.

Still keeping his hand on your mouth, he was dragging his knife along your soft shirt then going underneath and touching your delicate belly. "Yes, it's me. I was the one calling you. But trust, I'd NEVER hurt you. Okay?"

His face reached your neck, his lips softly grazing your neck. You could feel a grin on his lips, "If I let go of my hand from your mouth, and you don't scream, I'll explain everything." You nodded, you had no option, you were seeing this completely different side of your boyfriend. Everything was a shock to you. He let go of his hand, and you asked huffing, "Wh-why? Why did you ki-kill those people??"

"After my mother passed, before I met you. Everyone at that godforsaken school, would laugh at me. Talking shit, saying my mother wasn't good for my father, that's why "he had a new whore on his cock each week. And she was an old hag who was a good for nothing". So they said. Even my old "friends" joined in, in their fuckery So I got revenge."

You never knew this, no wonder he really felt for you, when your mother died. He felt the same way and he did what he would've wanted someone to do to him.

"I killed Sydney's mother, the whore. Then the whore's daughter. Then I thought, why not kill all of those fuckers who talked shit about me and my mother? So I came up with Ghostface and I went on a killingspree." he had no shame in saying any of this, matter of fact he sounded happy. He then added, "But I'd never hurt you, I swear. I'd let anyone kill me before they could kill you."

"I-I can't do this Billy.." you didn't know what to say, everything was so sudden and you were in shock physically and mentally. "I know you were in pain but you shouldn't have killed anyone Billy", you held his face with your hand. You didn't want to press any buttons that you shouldn't press. "What are you trying to say Y/N? You don't want to be with me anymore? Is that what you're trynna say? ", Billy started asking aggressively. He held back the urge to be agressive, he would never want to treat you harshly. He just didn't want to lose you over "something" like this.

"That's not what I'm saying Billy, I just don't know what to do with everything you told me..", you still were in shock. You didn't know what to say or even feel. Billy started kissing your neck, trying to make you forget about everything that had happened. "Mmh, Billy... you know what you're doing", you weren't stupid enough to know he'd do this whenever he slipped up. He'd always give you kisses or even gifts to make you forget about an argument.

You tried moving to get out of this position you were in, but Billy was stronger than you. "No, Y/N. You're not leaving me easily like this. What happened about earlier?", he smiled like a freak, whilst pinning you down. "What do you mean "earlier" ?" forgetting about what you said during the call.

"You'd do anything for me Y/N, you said it yourself. Even if it meant for someone else to kill you. Now lets keep that promise right now, yeah?", he put his knife near your shirt, cutting it. Then grazing the knife along your breasts.

Licking his lips, he neared himself to your breasts, a bit above he started kissing your chest. You moaned, trying to feel guilty that you knew he was a murderer. But you couldn't help it, his eyes, his lips. So soft and wet. You wanted him there and then. "May I?", Billy asked with lust filled eyes.

"Yes, Billy...", you couldn't help but moan. He immediately started licking your chest, sucking the soft spots. Hitting the right sensitive spots, never missing. Leaving small trails of hickeys. You couldn't help but roll your eyes back, the feeling he gave you... the anticipation. The small kisses, the sensitivity you felt yet it was slow but it satisfied you so much. You grabbed his hair, tugging it abit. "Oh Billy..", he was so good at this, you knew you needed him in you. He let go of his knife and grabbed your arms.

"You're such a slut for me, you're so eager for this cock. Hm?", he said as he moaned. As he moved himself to your stomach, leaving small trails of kisses. So delicate but so satisfying. "I'm anything for you Billy", you said, not regretting anything you said. Even though you wanted to resist him, you couldn't. Your body yearned for him in every way possible. "Lay there and feel me, that's all I want you to do. Can you do that babe?" he looked at you for reassurance, while holding himself back.

"Go in Billy, I want all of you.." you moaned, you couldn't even look at him without feeling turned on. He went on kissing you more below, and he finally reached your pussy. His eyes darkened at the fact that he'll taste you and your juices. He took off your pajama shorts, and he saw your panties soaked. So fucking wet with arousal, he took your soaked panties off. Finally seeing the prize. Your wet soaked throbbing pussy, so puffy needing something to satisfy it. He immediately dived in with his mouth, going in. Hitting all your sensitive spots, swirling in and out. He started licking your throbbing clit, licking your little tip. Sucking it gently, knowing it was so sensitive. He really craved your pussy, even just eating you out wasn't enough.

He went on sucking, still hitting your spots with his tongue. You arched your back, moaning so loud you couldn't even think right. You needed something more, you CRAVED him in you. He needed more from you, his cock was throbbing. So much precum was coming out.

"God Y/N you taste amazing", he grunted, he needed more. "Fuck", he moaned, "Tasting you isn't enough, I need to be in you.", he pulled out his cock. He started rubbing his cock near your wet throbbing pussy, your pussy ached for his cock. He knew he was teasing you, he softly went in. Letting you take in his big hard cock. "Oh fuck Billy!", you've never felt this euphoric, so thoughtless, just feeling him.

"Take it in babe, you can do it.", he said he moaned. Sliding his cock in fully, feeling your warmth. God it was intense for him too, just the feeling of you wrapped around his cock..he was thoughtless. He was just going with feeling. He went in and out of you in a rhythmic way, he felt so overwhelmed with your pussy. You were so tight. Gripping him. Both of you couldn't think a thought, just fully going with instinct.

After hitting every sensitive spot in you, he couldn't hold it. He felt it coming. He went in and out, loosing rhythm. Feeling your throbbing pussy clench. You couldn't help but arch your back, he was so good at this. It was leaving you dumb, all you could do is only think about his cock. Matter of fact, that's all you felt.

"I'm cumming, Y/N", he moaned, head going back and rolling his eyes. He could feel you cumming, your pussy clenching around his cock and he suddenly felt your juices surrounding his hard cock. This made him even thrust more into you, the wetness of your cum and the warmth of your tight pussy. It was all too overwhelming for him. "God, Y/N...I ca-can't hold back", he said as he moaned loudly. He thrusted faster, the sounds filled the entire room. He could feel his cock throb, he immediately pulled out. He came on your soft stomach, so much cum. You smiled at him still huffing from the sex you had. "I love you Y/N..", he leaned in and gave you a kiss.

"I love you too, Billy..", you pecked his lips. Billy asked, "Would you like some water?", he was one for the aftercare.

He really is something else.

(You're delulu girl 😜)

(A:N : sorry this is short 😭 thank you for reading. Pls leave some recommendations of other characters i should write abt! Ty)

#ghostface #billy loomis #scream #slashers #slasher smut #billy loomis smut #ghostface smut

101 notes · View notes

bluedalahorse · 3 months

Text

I think I’ll say this once, since I need to say it before I can move on to more excited posting about promos and things:

Obviously Young Royals means a lot to me. It’s become another way for me to connect with my hyphenated-American heritage and to start teaching myself Swedish again. It helped me survive a pretty brutal year of bullying at work. It made me confident enough to start the process of getting formally evaluated for autism and ADHD. I’ve been writing a 200k+ historical AU fanfic for YR—the kind of fic I always read and adored back in fandoms when I was younger, the kind of fic I wanted to write myself. I’m proud of the way that Heart and Homeland has made me a better writer, and I’m glad for the way it’s deepened my friendship with @heliza24. It is Young Royals in part that inspired by thesis on restorative justice in YA literature. When I was in the hospital last fall because I almost had a literal stroke from stress, I was comforted and kept calm by the fact that I was wearing a YR t-shirt and had a plush doll of a YR character sitting in my lap. And all of that is the short list.

As we come close to the release date, I hope that every single member of the fandom gets something they enjoy in the new season. I don’t think every person is going to get everything they want, but I genuinely hope there’s a moment, a scene, a line that brings them joy. We’ve all stuck with this series for a while, and I want us all to have something we can take with us. A little bit of sparkle for the road, if you will.

There’s of course the possibility that some of us get a lot of what we want, and others of us are let down. I know this was the case for season 2, and it feels naive to imagine that everyone in the fandom will be equally satisfied by season 3. I’ve got my fingers crossed that I’ll enjoy the hell out of it, but I’m also trying to prepare my heart in case it’s not what I wanted. I’m trying to gently talk to myself right now and say that even if the third season leaves me upset and unsatisfied—even if the writing takes a nosedive or it’s good writing but it’s just not what I wanted—that I still learned a lot about crafting stories and being myself and surviving hardship and thinking about systems and whatever else, from this show. That my experience with the first two seasons still matters, that my work on my fic is something to be proud of. If season 3 is a disappointment, Heart and Homeland will be my new canon. I’m sure there are other people out there talking themselves up in this way too. I know we’re all pushing through the pre-season jitters.

The other thing I’m trying to reconcile right now is how I feel about the promotional material that’s come out, and the conversations around that. Like on my own, I actually feel pretty great? It’s fun to see the new stuff come in? But then I think about the ratio of Wilmon to other things and some of the responses I’m seeing to that. And I see people say like “oh the show is back to focusing on what’s actually good about it” and “it’s great that they’re doing this because the audience doesn’t really care about characters who aren’t Wilmon.” And… hello? Aren’t I the audience? Tumblr isn’t too bad (most of the time) but then there’s like, Instagram, where the Netflix Nordic posted whole set of photos of different pairs and friendships from a whole bunch of shows, and there was one (1) picture of Sara and Rousseau and I saw enough comments where people were like “ew! Vomit! Give us Wilmon instead!” that like… y’all. Frida Argento is a human being and a damn good actress, and Lisa is a good writer of female characters, and like. We can celebrate that, once in a while. We can create space for her too. It’s not Frida OR Omar and Edvin. It’s Frida AND Omar AND Edvin AND Nikita AND Malte AND Nathalie AND Mimmi AND Fabian AND Samuel AND… look I could keep on listing but I’m going to get distracted if I do.

Like, man. I love Wilmon. Don’t get me wrong. I love the complexity their relationship can run with. There are lines heliza has written for them in fic that make me swoon and I am giddy about the part where I get to read them first. I love the glowsticks. I love Wilmon’s sense of humor and the part where they cheated at Vincent’s rowing race thing and their utmost commitment to being dumbass teenage boys against the world. The first week I saw the show and came into work (where we have an athletic field) I went and took a selfie on the field after covering my hands in those gross fake dots. Look. I am all in.

And also… I came to the show for Wilmon but I stayed for so much more. I would have watched Young Royals once or twice and said “that was pleasant” without ever getting back into fanfic after a decade away, if the show was only Wilmon. I do like Wilmon, but it wasn’t Wilmon who inspired my thesis on restorative justice or made me a better writer overall. I survived that year of bullying at work because I could come home and write my ensemble fanfic, especially the parts where I focused on the non-Wilmon pairing I was in charge of writing. I finally felt confident enough to be evaluated for AuDHD because of a connection I felt to a character who wasn’t Simon or Wilhelm. It was a plush doll of a non-Wilmon character who sat in my lap and kept me calm while I was hooked up to those scary machines in the hospital this past October.

I guess my one humble request is that people be thoughtful about how they use phrases like “everyone thinks” or “no one wants.” Not every member of the fandom has the same opinion, and not every member wants the same things out of season 3, and there are some of us who are happy about the new Wilmon content but who are still feeling a little hungry for more of our most beloved characters, and hope they’ll get meaningful storylines (and not get ignored) in season 3. I do know we probably won’t all get what we want, and that some of us will probably get more of what we want than others. I hope that whatever happens, we’ll all get something we want, and we can all be gracious about it, and continue to find meaning in the canon.

For the people here on tumblr who are already including me in their everyone… thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you know who you are and I hope you know how much I appreciate you. And I do hope this Little Fandom That Could can keep going into all sorts of new creative places.

#young royals #young royals season 3 #young royals season 3 spoilers #yrs3 spoilers

73 notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 1 year

Text

Flame 6- Pop

Hello please don’t hurt me for the love of god 😀 sorry in advance I will fix it…

Check our our Patreon for early access and exclusive writings!

Series masterlist

WC- 2.4k

—-

Harry was pretty sure #1 on the list of best friend rules was not to fall in love with them.

He had failed. Failed massively and horrible and it was overtaking his brain. Watching Y/N as she sat across from him at the coffee shop, he felt his heart hammer in his chest as he observed her. Her back was facing the window, illuminating her from behind and giving her an angelic glow from behind. Her reading glasses kept falling and her annoyed huff made him smile, his own attempt at studying abandoned as he chose instead to sip his coffee, fold the wrapper of his straw as small as he could and stare at Y/N.

It was one of his new favorite pastimes. Watching her closely, observing her doing seemingly mundane tasks and becoming obsessed with the way she made them interesting. He had to admit he had never felt obsessive over a human before, really the opposite. Harry tended to run the other way as soon as he got too close to people because he liked to beat them to the punch. After some shit he had gone through he learned to leave first and didn’t want to see someone else walking away from him. Y/N, though? He was allowing himself to get closer and closer to her. Enough he had opened up his heart.

“Can feel you staring.” She smiled, a phrase all too familiar to her lips now. “What could possibly be so interesting about me studying? Or do I have something on my face?” Her eyes still didn’t leave her paper, though.

“You’re just a pretty girl.” He hummed, taking the coffee to his lips. “You do a cute thing with your nose when you don’t get something. A little scrunch. And then you rub your eyebrow and smooth the hair out of your face. Did you know that?” This was definitely showing his ass as being obsessive but he didn’t mind. Seeing her freeze and duck her head down so he couldn’t see her flustered was a reward.

“You’re a dork. I didn’t know that, no.” Her hand reached for her drink, taking a measured sip before placing it back down on the orange plate with a soft ‘clink’ of ceramic. “Then again, I study. I’m not watching myself stress over memorizing these definitions.” Her words were lighthearted but he could see the stress come back on her face as his eyes fell to the pastel highlighters uncapped next to her. Something Harry never understood doing because she was bound to dry this set out.

“M’sorry, love. Didn’t mean to distract you.” Harry wanted her to let him accompany her to study again. The last thing he wanted was another stretch of time without her and he had to prove himself today that he could keep his hands to himself- but she hasn’t said anything about eyes. That was impossible to keep away, so he wouldn’t even attempt that.

“It’s okay, it isn’t just you. I’m frustrated with it.” She sighed, pushing her glasses back up on her face. “You’re behaving for once.” The smile returned to the lips Harry loved so much, causing the cotton candy feeling to rise back in his stomach. He had done that. Gotten that smile from her. He wanted to do that more and more.

He went to say something back but he was rudely interrupted.

“Y/N?” A voice startled them both, Harry looking up to see a somewhat familiar face. He knew of the guy, someone on the lacrosse team and a bit obnoxious at parties, he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing coming up to them- let alone Y/N- but he didn’t have a good feeling about it.

“Hey, Tyler.” She greeted him with a polite smile.

It was one Harry knew to be reserved for casual friends, not the same ones he got, but he still felt a bit annoyed. The guy was interrupting the little time he got with her today. She was leaving after to go back to her place for another study group.

“Hey! I can’t wait for study group later. It’s really cool that you guys are nice enough to help out. Thanks for letting me join. I’ve never understood material so easily. You’re especially good at explaining things.” The guy hadn’t stopped staring at Y/N, not even taking a glance at Harry. It pissed him the fuck off.

Yeah, he knew she was good at explaining things. She was extremely smart. And funny. And beautiful. And Harry’s. He never did like sharing as a kid and he didn’t like sharing now. Especially not Y/N’s attention.

Fuck. He hated this feeling. This fucker was going to be studying with her today? When Harry was at home watching reruns of ‘Friends’ and pouting because he missed her? It was moments like these that made him irritated that he didn’t have the same courses as her, wishing he could join in and be of use. Be around her and actually make an impact studying. All he could do here was read her flash cards and help her organize her highlighters.

“Oh! I’m so glad it’s helping.” Y/N smiled, looking genuinely pleased. One thing about her? She was oblivious to the ways people looked at her sometimes. She could clock some flirting but the gazes, the schmoozing? It went over her head. It wasn’t that the compliments weren’t genuine either. Harry knew very well it was probably not a lie- but the way he said it, the way he stared. He knew what was going through his head.

“It’s so crazy you’re still studying. Do you ever stop?” The guy seemed impressed but it was like every word that came out of his mouth annoyed Harry more. He hadn’t even said hi or glanced at him which was rude, but he was openly gawking at the girl he was currently in love with. Even if she didn’t know- it was guy code. Don’t do that shit.

“I do! I was taking a break last night but we decided to come out this morning and see some light.” She motioned to the windows of the coffee shop. “This is Harry, by the way.” Y/N motioned over to him. “He’s not in the study group obviously but we make a good studying team.”

It was then that Tyler looked over to Harry, a flash of irritation on his face as he realized Harry was not liking this. As if the moron couldn’t feel the daggers being flared into his back before. “Ah, yeah. I know of him. Don’t think we met before.” He nodded before turning over to Y/N. “I’ll see you tonight. Make sure you bring snacks, I’m sure we’ll be going late tonight.”

The last words were said looking at Harry. As if it was a threat. A taunt. Idiot.

It was stupid because he had her. He knew it. Y/N was only talking to him this way. She wasn’t a liar; she wasn’t someone who was purposely flirting with this guy. He was testing his luck. But Harry had a jealous streak a mile long and it kind of made him pathetic.

“Yeah, we tend to go all night when it’s just Y/N and I.” Harry smirked. “She’s got plenty of good snacks in her pantry. I’m sure she’ll bring something good. Or we can stop at the shop on our way to her place.” He shrugged. “Whatever she wants. She’s generous that way.”

Y/N nudged his foot but Harry’s stare didn’t break from Tyler’s, the easily smug look not melting from his face before Tyler made a half ass excuse saying his order was ready and moving out of there.

“What was that?” She whispered at him, kicking him harder now.

“Ouch! Fuck. Watch the legs.” He hissed, reaching down to rub his sore spot.

“No! Why did you get all weird?” She demanded, narrowing her eyes at him. “He was just saying hi. Don’t make it weird when it doesn’t have to be.”

Harry stared at her for a few seconds before sighing, shaking his head as he reached over to grab one of the cookie bites on her plate she had abandoned. “Y/N… he has a thing for you.” He knew she was going to try and deny it so he shook his head, swallowing the bite he had taken. “I know you don’t see it sometimes, but I do. He had the look, the tone. I’m telling you, the dude likes you. And it’s annoying to come over here and try and flirt with you when m’sitting literally right here.”

“So?” Y/N scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she adjusted her cardigan. She had been irritated with his “It isn’t like I was gonna entertain anything with him, Harry. And besides…” she pursed her lips. “It isn’t like we’re together anyways. You never got like this before.”

‘It isn’t like we’re together anyways.’

Harry felt like he had been kicked in the stomach.

Immediately his appetite vanished, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to come up with a reply, but he couldn’t. The sick feeling spread to his throat and made it feel like he had a rock in the back of it.

She wasn’t wrong. They weren’t together, actually. But he had thought at the very least they were… something. That what they’d been doing and saying the last few weeks had meant something more than just fucking around. Harry knows that any other hook ups he had were nothing at all like this. There was no yearning or wanting. The moment they’d seriously kissed had changed everything for him. But apparently, it was only him.

He had read it wrong and now he was fucked. Fucked and hurt and embarassed.

“I… yeah. You’re right.” He said quietly, clearing his throat before closing his book. “I wasn’t like this before. M’sorry. We aren’t together so… I shouldn’t act like that.” Grabbing his bag, he pulled it into his lap. He needed to get out of here. To.. hit something, scream, cry, figure out what he was going to do to lose the shit he felt so he could be un-in love with his best friend.

“What? Why are you packing your bag?” Y/N asked confused. “I’m not done. We still have an hour left.” Her glasses were pulled off her nose now as she watched him place his things inside the book bag, zipping it up. They had an hour and 15 minutes left, actually. He had been the one needy for her attention- and now he felt like an idiot.

“Yeah- I just, I forgot I told Niall we would head to the gym. Planned it before.” He gave a weak smile, standing up and pushing his chair in. A five dollar bill was placed on the table. “Get another coffee and study, yeah? I’ll see you later. Have fun at your study group and let me know you got home safe.”

Harry heard her call for him as he left, shooting her a smile that didn’t meet his eyes as he rushed out of the shop. He felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe, his eyes burning a little bit at how stupid he must seem. At least in his own hand.

Of course she hadn’t missed him as much. She didn’t have a problem spending nights apart and studying because she didn’t care as much about it. She didn’t miss the smell of him on her sheets and she didn’t sit and stare at him the same way he did. And he couldn’t even be angry at her.

He had to be the one to go and fall in love with her. She had never asked for it, had never said that. He had let his feelings get in the way, he had been the one confident it wouldn’t change anything and now he had to clean up the mess he made.

—-

🍑: H are you okay?

H: yeah I’m fine

🍑: okay… don’t bullshit me though. Was it the coffee?

H: nah. I met up with Niall and went to the gym. It’s on my insta story.

🍑: yeah I saw that but… idk

🍑: did I hurt your feelings or something? Because of the study group? :/

H: no, no. It wasn’t that. I’m okay.

🍑: are you sure? I realized maybe you feel excluded. You can come with me tonight if you want!!

🍑: we can go and get snacks before :)

H: I’m okay, love. I’m not feeling so good, I’ve got a bit of a headache. Think I’m dehydrated so I’m gonna just relax at him tonight.

H: please be safe on your way home. Text me if you need a ride.

🍑: oh… okay :( feel better.

He was dehydrated, probably. Working out, the sauna and then crying did that to a person. He felt wound up tight, even after the workout. Niall had been a real one for not asking what happened after the initial one, merely patting his back. He understood that sometimes the best medicine was beating the fuck out of a punching bag.

Curled on his couch, he let the tv play as he replayed his own moments in his head. It was the first time he had rejected Y/N to hang out. He went to see her when unknowingly had the beginnings of the flu and ended up giving it to her by accident. But he couldn’t stomach it right now.

It wasn’t that he blamed her. He didn’t. He blamed himself for misreading signs. For making things into a bigger deal than they should have been. Y/N had never been anything but authentic and kind and honestly, he couldn’t blame himself for falling in love with her because it was so fucking easy to do. Though sometimes a bit abrasive, she was sweet under it all. Kind. Helpful. Fucking intelligent too. She had sparkly eyes and soft lips and having her attention made you feel like the most important person in the world. Harry had just gotten lost in the high of it.

255 notes · View notes