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bopbopstyles · 1 year

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I JUST WANT A LOVER

RATING: R/smut (graphic sex, alcohol use, cigarettes)

WORD COUNT: 6.8k (i'm getting back in the swing of things, okay!!!! sorry this isn't my normal 20k lmao) (also like 75% smut) (i make no apologies)

CATEGORIES: one night stand!harry

PT. 2 | MASTERLIST | TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK

a/n: i know it's been about twelve billion years, but thank you for bearing with me. i had the urge to write some smutty smut, so i did — not sure how consistent i'll be, but i'm back, baby!!!!!

“You know, it’s not nice to stare.”

You glanced up and realized he was looking at you, having fully caught you investigating him. “Had to see what my shot partner was like.”

“And what do you think?”

“Hmm…” You let your sentence hang while you figured out what to say, your tipsy brain scrambling for something flirty but not too weird. “Decent, but concerned you won’t be able to take it without a chaser.”

He chuckled, leaning his hip against the bar so the two of you were even closer. “What happens if I can’t?”

His arm brushed against your side, and you tried to not pay attention to it too much. It was taking every fiber of your body not to freak out and overthink this, because this was the first man since your ex to flirt with you in a bar—or even come up to you in a bar— and he was hotter than your ex by a landslide. Which was both flattering and also frightening. “I won’t let you follow me to the dance floor,” you answer him, plucking what little courage you had and employing it, praying it didn’t fall flat.

But he smiled. “And if I can?”

The shots arrived, and he picked up them both, handing yours to you, your fingertips brushing. “Then I’ll let you dance as close as you want.”

Y/N is newly single and Harry's really into her

You’d come out at the request of your best friend, but to be honest it didn’t take much to get you out there these days. The breakup with your ex had occurred a month and a half ago and since then you decided you were done being sad, and wanted to have fun. Fun that you hadn’t had in months. Fun with your best friends in the smallest amount of clothing you could get away with, and lips lined in a deep mauve that always made you feel like the baddest bitch in the room.

It was working too. You could feel your confidence and happiness creeping back piece by piece, every time you were dancing in a bar, screaming lyrics to your favorite songs and sweat slipping down your back, you felt one step closer to the person you remembered being. A person you had loved being too—full of life, the person people called when they wanted to have a fun night, the host of many a party, the best dance partner, and the perfect person for a heart to heart over pizza at the end of the night.

“I missed this!” Your friend Abbey said when you’d walked into her apartment with a bottle of gin earlier that night. She swept you into a giant hug and you couldn’t help but smile. “Like, I know I’ve seen you recently, but I missed going out with you—missed being happy with you.”

“I missed it too,” you’d replied, and meant it.

Now you were in your favorite bar in the Lower East Side, waiting impatiently at the bar amidst the many other patrons, tapping your phone on the counter to keep your mind busy. The combination of old Britney Spears songs pounding through the stereo and the rush of alcohol in your bloodstream made you full of joy, and a little more wild than usual.

“Gin and tonic and a fireball shot,” you requested, and he nodded before turning around.

“Fireball, huh?” The voice was deep and smooth, and you couldn’t help but turn around to discover who the owner was. He was tall, at least six foot, with dark brown hair and light green eyes, tattoos littering his arms. There was a ghost of stubble on his jaw, which only made it looked more chiseled.

He was so fucking hot it seemed unnatural. “Yeah,” you replied. “Feel like being a little crazy tonight.”

His lips curled up at the corners at that, and he took a step toward you. “Sounds like fun.” He raised his finger, grabbing the bartender’s attention, and requested a shot as well.

You took his distraction as an opportunity to study his side profile. His hair curled slightly around his ear, and his nose curved up ever so slightly at the end. There was a dash of freckles on his cheeks that you could barely make out in the low lighting. As your eyes traveled down to his clothing, you decided that he was ripped—his arm muscles bulged ever so slightly in a delicious way. He was so attractive it felt illegal to even be looking at him, much less talking to him. And having a drink with him, apparently.

“You know, it’s not nice to stare.”

You glanced up and realized he was looking at you, having fully caught you investigating him. “Had to see what my shot partner was like.”

“And what do you think?”

He chuckled, leaning his hip against the bar so the two of you were even closer. “What happens if I can’t?”

But he smiled. “And if I can?”

The shots arrived, and he picked up them both, handing your to you, your fingertips brushing. “Then I’ll let you dance as close as you want.”

“Deal,” he replied. The two of you bumped glasses, tapped them on the bar, and threw them back, the alcohol burning your throat. You watched as he, much to your excitement, didn’t struggle with the shot in the slightest. He just set the glass back on the bar and found your eyes. “Looks like we’re dancing, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment lit up your spine, and you tried to not smile too widely. The bartender came over and asked if it was on a tab or closed, and the man told him to put it on his tab without a beat—and that’s when you got his last name. Styles. Sexy, frankly.

He turned back to you and nodded toward the back of the bar. “Lead the way.”

The Motto by Drake was blasting through the speakers and this was the tenth song you two had been dancing to. Your gin and tonic was nearly empty, and your right hand was thrown around Harry’s neck—that was his name. Harry. It was said in your ear with his lips far too close to your skin for you to not fantasize about how they would feel on the rest of your body, the melt of his accent curling around you like a fire. His hands were on your hips, fingers curved around you so he could move with you with ease, and the two of your alternated between staring into each other’s eyes with such intensity it made you have to resist the desire to kiss him every time, and the bar around you.

Your back was sweaty from the heat of the dance floor, but the backless shirt you were wearing meant the material wasn’t sticking to your skin. Harry had informed you about a minute ago that the shirt was “one of the hottest things he’d ever seen” and that had made you smile coyly, or at least you’d hoped it was coy. You were enjoying the way his skin felt on yours, the press of his fingers, the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

It had been a while since you’d done this—let yourself flirt with a stranger, bask in the excitement of someone’s desire—and it felt so damn good. You dropped your head back, letting your hair fall backward, singing the lyrics you knew by heart. As you did it, you felt the tightening of Harry’s fingers on your waist, and you smiled to yourself. In return, you wrapped your fingers in the bit of hair at the nape of his neck, scratching ever so slightly. This made Harry’s grip tighten again, and you liked knowing that you were affecting him as much as he was affecting you.

You let your head fall forward, gaze meeting his. It was burning into you, his eyes gliding from your face down your body to the rise of your breasts. The pressure of it, of his interest and desire, felt good, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a deep need to kiss him. The prospect of touching your lips to his, which looked so plush and inviting, a dark pink that looked far too kissable. The need burned at your chest, and you decided there was no reason not to give in. Tonight, you decided, you were saying yes to things that made you a bit nervous, and seeing what happened. So, you pressed your torso flat against his and leaned your head back, tugging at his with your fingers so your mouths met in harmony.

It was like all he waiting for was permission, because the minute your lips touched he moved, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you even closer, the other moving upward, his hand cupping your throat gently. His lips were soft and plush, just like you’d hoped. You loved how they moved against yours with obvious desire, begging and pleading with you through the kiss. When he brushed his finger along the column of your neck, you let your tongue dart out, brushing against his lips, which he parted for you, and you swept into his mouth, finding his tongue.

The kiss was messy and needy and exhilarating. From the press of his lips and the way they parted and pulled at yours, to his arm that was locked around your waist, fingers pressing int your skin, or the hand that was splayed at your neck, his fingers curled int your hair and the base of his palm on your throat.

It was, in all honesty, how you’d been wanting to be kissed for months. With desire, to feel needed and craved by another. It set your body on fire, and made you throw any apprehension you had to the wind.

“Air,” you mumbled, pulling your mouth away. “I need air. And a cigarette.”

He just smiled, nodding gently, and then threaded his fingers in yours, tugging you through the crowd. You hadn’t necessarily invited him to follow you outside, but you hoped he would get the hint—and he did, thankfully. There was a door in the back of the bar, a security guard standing next to it. Harry nodded at him, pointing at the door, and the guard pushed it open. It led to an alley, which had some other people down the way, but this section was empty. Perfectly, beautifully empty.

It was quiet outside, the thrum of the bass from the music inside seeping out, and the honk of taxi cabs melding into the perfect sound of New York at nighttime. You leaned against the rough brick of the building, the bare skin of your back cooling against the brick, which felt glorious.

“Cigarette?” You asked, reaching into your purse to pull out your pack and lighter.

“Sure,” he answered. “But I only need half of one.”

“Share one with me then.”

He smiled, and nodded. You placed the cigarette between your lips and lifted the lighter, flicking it so the flame appeared, lighting the end. You took a deep inhale, holding the cigarette in your teeth lightly as you exhaled out the sides of your mouth around it, placing the lighter back in your purse. Then, you took the cigarette from your mouth and offered it to Harry.

There was something so erotic about watching him smoke the same cigarette that had just been in your mouth. You couldn’t help but stare at his mouth curved around it, the smoke leaking from his mouth as he exhaled. You wondered if he thought the same when he watched you smoke.

“So,” you said as you held the cigarette between your fingers after taking a puff. “What’s your story, Harry?”

He stepped forward and pressed his hand to the brick at the side of your head, before leaning in and wrapping his lips around the edge of the cigarette that you still held between your fingers and taking another inhale. “I work in a record store and record some music on the side. Live a couple blocks from here with my friend Michael. Moved here a couple years ago.” He nodded to you. “And you?”

“Live in the village, work in marketing like everyone else,” that made him chuckle. “And have been here for three years.”

“Like it?” He asked, and you nodded.

“I do. I don’t think it’s forever, but I doubt that’s surprising. But I can’t imagine living anywhere else right now.”

He took another inhale of the cigarette before agreeing. “I know what you mean.”

“Are you here with friends?”

He nodded. “My roommate and some other people.”

“Will they miss you?”

That earned you a smile, and a shake of his head. “Why, what do you have in mind?”

The cigarette, shot, and gin and tonic are fueling your confidence because you pressed towards him and whispered in his ear, “your bed, preferably.”

He looked at you for a beat and then pressed his lips to yours, his free hand that isn’t touching the brick wrapping around your waist and tugging you toward him. It was a fight for dominance, this kiss—heated in a way the other one hadn’t been. It was full of desire and need and curiosity, that curiosity of finding someone new and leaning what they like and how they like it. You couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan when he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth, and that sound made Harry press himself into you, his erection obvious against the material of your skirt. It made you wrap your hand holding the cigarette around his neck, making sure to not singe his beautiful curls, and curl your other hand in the waistband of his jeans.

Your finger brushed against a sliver of skin above his boxers and below the hem of his shirt, and you heard the sharp inhale of air he took in as you did it, pressing firmly against you and deepening the kiss. You wanted him in a way that you’d forgotten how to feel, and it lit up your whole body, making you absolutely uninterested in pretending you weren’t incredibly into him. You tugged his lip between your teeth and sucked gently, before licking across it. He responded by tucking his chin and brushing a series of kisses down your neck, pulling and nipping at the skin in a way that had you digging your fingers into his skin.

“Can we go,” you said, more a statement than a question in the way the words tumbled from your mouth. You couldn’t do this much longer or you’d end up begging him to fuck you in the bathroom of this bar.

“Fuck yes,” he answered, placing a searing kiss on your lips. “Need to say goodbye to my friends and close out the tab. Meet me at the bar?”

You nodded, and the two of you headed inside to say your goodbyes. You found your friends, explaining the situation in excited tones, and kissed them all goodbye on the cheek, promising to text the address you ended up at. And then you went in search of Harry, easily finding his mop of curls poking out amongst the people at the bar. You headed right for him, and when he caught sight of you he reached out for you, tucking you into his side, his arm around your waist.

“Let’s go,” he mumbled into your hair after he signed his name on the receipt, and you followed him out of the bar and into the night.

He kicked his bedroom door shut and walked to you in two paces, tugging you to him. Your lips met messily, all the pent-up tension from the evening and the walk here coming to a head. You decided to not mess around—you wanted to feel his skin desperately. The buttons of his shirt, a soft silk that was sweaty in the best way, came unbuttoned with ease, and you pushed the shirt off his shoulders, exposing his skin. It was tan and scattered with so many tattoos that you wanted to explore, but didn’t feel like you had enough time.

“I love your tattoos,” you said, your voice cutting through the sexual tension and silence in the room. Your fingers brushed across the swallows on his chest, and you saw his muscles tighten at the touch.

He didn’t acknowledge your statement. Instead, he was too busy staring at you. “Y/N,” he said, breathlessly, “can I take this off?” His fingers were playing with the hem of your shirt, and you nodded with ease. The material was pulled over your head in mere seconds, leaving you in just your skirt and boots. His fingers were on your skin immediately, cupping your breasts, lips brushing along the slope of your shoulder as he pulled on your nipples.

Your head fell back, a quiet “fuck” leaving your lips as his fingers moved across your skin, leaving a searing fire in their wake. He took advantage of the space, sucking on the skin at the base of your neck, nipping and pulling and you threaded your fingers in his hair and tugged gently. “Bed,” you exhaled, and he nodded, walking you backward until you fell onto the mattress.

He leaned back and unzipped your boots for you, dropping them to the floor and then removing his own shoes. You pulled on the clasp of his belt, freeing it from his jeans, and then popped the button, pulling down the zipper. The thought crossed your mind that he was the first man you’d undressed since your ex, but you didn’t let the thought linger for too long. Instead, you busied your mind by pushing down his jeans and tugging him on top of you, finding solace in his lips.

The kiss he gave you was deep and full of need, and you drank it in, loving each second that it held you. His fingers tugged on the zipper of your skirt and you wriggled to let him free you from it, leaving you both in just your underwear. You moved up the bed, pulling him with you, and tugged him down on top of you.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him in, your centers meeting and both of you let out a moan. Hooking up with someone new was always an interesting experience, that edge of apprehension and unsuredness, but this was feeling more and more comfortable by the second for you. Maybe it was the way his fingers felt on your skin, the way he didn’t stop touching some inch of you. Or the kisses he placed on your lips and then your skin, or the way his breathing hitched when you rolled your hips.

He was hard against you and you loved how it felt, how the friction felt against you. His tip was nudging at your clit through your underwear and you could feel how wet you were getting, and you wondered if he could tell too. You hadn’t done any of this in a little while, but you wanted him. Craved him in a way you hadn’t lately, and you wanted more. Wanted to feel the weight of him on your tongue and the press of him against you, that glorious feeling of being held by someone and the crash of an orgasm that exhausted your bones in a way nothing else did. How it made the world slip away for a second.

“Can you roll over?” You asked, nosing gently at his jaw.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he answered, flopping onto his back. You were on him in seconds, straddling his waist and swiveling your hips in a slow, tantalizing circle that had his hands reaching the curve of your waist. The pressure made you grind into him deeper and the moan that fell from his lips was intoxicating. You didn’t know how much more of him you could take, the pressure just building and building and building inside of you every time he kissed another inch of your skin.

Harry was fucking obsessed with you. This random girl he’d found at the bar who he couldn’t stop staring at. The curtain of your hair that fell around him as you bent forward and scattered kisses down his torso, making him inhale sharply, the feeling surprising in all the right ways. His fingers were pressed into your waist and he let them drop to your thighs, enjoying the softness of your skin and how he could grip them and pull ever so slightly to make your hips move over his cock, the friction feeling heavenly.

He needed you in every way, and he was simply wondering what you would be willing to give him because at this rate he would take any scrap or morsel of you.

And that’s when you suddenly shuffled backward and hovered over his thighs, lips ghosting downward to the top of his underwear. Fuck, you were going to go down on him. Would he survive? He wasn’t sure.

He lifted his hips and let you tug down his underwear, the sweetness of the kiss you placed on his hip bone catching him off guard. Harry lifted up onto his elbows so he could watch you as your fingers brushed along the length of him.

“You’re pretty,” you said, words dancing across his skin like another one of his tattoos.

“Yeah?” He answered, fingers winding through your hair. “Think I’m pretty, angel?”

You giggled—fucking giggled—and it set him on fire. “Very,” you informed him. Then, you ran your tongue up the length of him and swirled your tongue around his tip, the sight making Harry drop his head back and moan again. It felt so good, the warmth of your mouth and the caress of your tongue, the way you were delicate yet intense.

“More,” he mumbled, “please, Y/N.”

You didn’t hesitate before spitting on the length of him and rubbing your hand up and down, creating a ruthless pace that had him panting, circling your tongue over his tip repeatedly, making every inch of his cock light on fire. Then, you dropped your hand to his balls and gently rolled them as you took him in your mouth, and that’s when Harry looked back at you, not wanting to miss this moment.

Your eyes were on him, watching his response to your actions as you sunk lower and lower on his cock. When his tip bumped the back of your throat he groaned, and it took every inch of his willpower not to buck his hips at the sensation. And then you pulled back a bit, and then back down, creating a rhythm, your lips wrapped around him, tongue gently licking stripes up the underside of him as you worked.

It was heaven, your mouth. He hadn’t been with someone in a while, and you were unexpected but oh so perfect. He couldn’t stop looking at you, at the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth over and over again, the sight of your eyes watering ever so slightly when you took him particularly deep, the bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. You were fucking drooling over him. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

When you pulled back and swirled your tongue over his tip and then sucked, he couldn’t hold back—he bucked his hips ever so slightly into your mouth. “Fuck, sorry,” he mumbled. But you just nodded, widening your lips and stilling where you hovered.

His eyes about rolled back in his head.

“You want me to fuck your mouth, angel?” You nodded, and Harry didn’t waste another second.

He curled his fingers through your hair and pressed his hips up, using your mouth and you let him. You even moaned at one point when his tip brushed the back of your throat. It was like you loved this, loved the feeling of him using your mouth, and that made him even more intrigued by you. When you started sucking on his tip when he pulled back, he decided he couldn’t take this anymore—he was going to come if he didn’t stop.

“Gotta stop,” he said, pulling your head off him. “Gonna come if I don’t.”

You looked up at him and smiled, before wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. “Liked how you felt,” you mumbled, crawling up his body toward him. He grasped your hips in his hands, and looked up at you, catching your eyes and smiling.

“Liked it too,” he said. “Come ‘ere.” You lowered your mouth and kissed him, lips intertwining perfectly. Then you started grinding back and forth on his cock, and Harry realized how wet you were through your underwear—fucking dripping, in fact. “Roll over for me,” he requested, and you did as he said with ease.

He hovered over you and fingered the waistband of your underwear. “Please,” you mumbled, and he smiled, before pulling the material off with ease. You were, in fact, glistening with arousal and Harry loved the sight. He pressed a kiss to your knee and began to bend down because he wanted desperately to go down on you, but you started shaking your head back and forth. “No,” you said, “Want you to fuck me. Please.”

The please got Harry. “Yeah?” You nodded, and Harry moved closer to you, letting your legs fall to either side of him. “Wanted to go down on you, but I guess that’ll have to wait.”

Your hands swept up his sides, brushing along the tattoos that rested there. Harry pulled away just enough to reach his bedside table, grabbing a condom. Quickly, he ripped open the package and rolled it on himself, pumping gently, eyes glancing over your body spread out in front of him. Your breasts, perfectly large in all the ways he loved, the curve of your waist and the skin he was deeply enjoying holding onto, your gentle but wildly talented hands, the soft waves of your hair that smelled far too delicious to not bury his face in. It was like you were out of a dream.

“Harry,” you said, hand reaching for his thigh and tugging gently. “Please.”

The begging really did it for Harry—he hated to admit it, but he fucking loved it when girls begged for him. Made him feel so wanted, so desired, so needed, which is exactly what he craved from sex. “Coming, I promise, love.” He rose up on his knees and nudged your thighs a little farther apart with his own, creating space for himself. Leaning over you, he caught your eyes as he nudged your entrance gently. He knew he was big, and he didn’t want to assume it wouldn’t hurt, so he was going to watch your expression to see how it felt.

And what he saw made him keen. The way your eyelids drooped ever so slightly, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. Then, he felt your hips brush down a bit, slipping more of his cock inside of you, and a gentle moan slip from your lips. “More,” you requested, hand winding around his bicep and gripping him.

Harry didn’t make you wait a second longer, he pushed forward, watching your eyes to make sure it didn’t hurt, and it never did. You just shut your eyes and your mouth dropped open, no sound coming out. You felt like heaven—wet and warm and snug, and Harry remembered why he absolutely fucking loved sex.

He pulled out slowly, and when you tugged slightly on his arm, as if to say Hurry up, he answered with a swift thrust in, groaning at the way your walls gripped him. You answered with a moan of your own, the words, “Feels so fucking good,” falling from your lips.

That spurred him forward, and he built up a rhythm that was brutal in pace. You liked it hard, that was obvious, and Harry happened to love it too. He had missed sex and this pace was dizzying in all the right ways. The feeling of your thighs wrapped around his waist, keeping his hips close, and the sight of your breasts bouncing as he fucked you was too much for his brain to process. He couldn’t figure out what to watch. The sight of his cock entering you (which he really liked looking at) or your breasts, or your stomach which he for some reason had the desire to bite gently, the skin stretched there tantalizing. Your face was a dream too—the way you looked at him with desire and need and pleasure so obvious, the moans that left your mouth without a filter, not caring in the slightest who heard.

Harry grabbed your thighs, tugging them up so your hips lifted off the bed and thrust in, hitting a deeper spot that made his head spin—and yours.

You were losing your fucking mind at this sex. He was fucking you like, truly, no man had fucked you before. Full of power and need and dominance in all the ways you loved. The feeling of his eyes on your skin had your body on fire, and that mixed with the way his cock was stretching you out just had your brain melting away. You couldn’t decide on what to pay attention to, but currently his tattoos and the ripple of his biceps was enticing you. The black ink made you curious, and you wondered if you asked if he would tell you their stories.

His hands slipped to hold your hips, pulling you in toward him, fucking you onto him and it made your eyes roll back, a heavy groan ripping from your throat. Missionary, you decided, was underrated. Harry knew how to fuck someone in missionary good, and you wanted it again and again and again. With your ex, you always craved the variety of positions as something to keep you engaged, but right now you had no desire to change your position. All you wanted was more intensity, more pressure, just more.

“More,” you begged, squeezing his arm.

Harry responded with a smile, and then he lowered your hips before rotating them to the left, your right leg draping over your left. He shifted behind you ever so slightly, nudging his cock back inside of you, and you gasped at the depth of the position. You could feel him in your fucking stomach it felt like, and it made you scrabble for his skin, gripping the forearm connected to the hand that was holding your hip as he fucked you. “Good?” He asked, hair falling into his eyes as he bent forward slightly, using the leverage to fuck you harder, driving into you at a brutal but delicious pace.

“So…fuck…good,” you answered, words a struggle in this position. You were so wet and your abdomen was tightening, a clear sign that your orgasm was rising inside of you. That wasn’t something that surprised you, though—you’d always been someone who came with ease, especially in intense sex. So you let it build, let your walls tighten and spasm around Harry.

It had Harry’s grip tightening. The feeling of your walls fluttering around him was a clear sign your orgasm was building, and Harry couldn’t wait to feel it. He wanted to watch you come, to know that he was the reason why. He still had plenty of stamina left—he’d always had plenty of energy when it came to sex—so he decided after you came if you still wanted to have sex, he would happily keep going.

“Fuckkk,” you let out, head dropping back and eyes shutting, hair spread all over his duvet. It was a gorgeous sight, and Harry drove into you faster, the sight of your tongue slipping out onto your lip spurring him on. Then he felt it, the way your walls clamped down tightly and the grip you had on his wrist tighten significantly. You were dripping all over him, and it felt so fucking good that he knew he needed to pause for a second, so he pulled out, turning you back onto your back gently.

Your eyes opened and found his with a smile. “Good?” He asked, and you nodded. “Want more?”

“Hell yes,” you answered, and he chuckled.

Then he dropped down, ducking his mouth to your waiting pussy, the sight of your wetness smeared all over your skin and the smell of your come filling his sense. He licked over your exposed skin, picking it all up with his tongue, and you moaned, obviously sensitive. But instead of stopping him, your hands found his hair and pulled him in closer, making his nose nudge against your clit. You were so. fucking. hot.

He went to town on you, licking inside and then over your clit, which he discovered you particularly liked. He worked his tongue in circles that had your head thrashing, mouth dropped open in a moan, hands a death grip on his hair. Thankfully, he’d always had a thing for that. When he pushed a finger inside of you at your request, that made your eyes roll back, and he fucked you with his fingers, first one and then two. He found your g-spot with relative ease, brushing against it and taking joy in the way your thighs tightened around his head.

Going down on you was so fun; like a new mystery he was taking deep joy in discovering all the secrets of.

You didn’t let that go on for too long, though, pulling on his hair with desperation after he’d been fucking you with his fingers particularly fast. “I’m going to come if you don’t stop, and I’d really like you inside of me again,” you said, and that made him stop immediately. He was not going to miss that opportunity.

He dropped your thighs from where he’d been holding them and moved back to his old spot between your thighs. He spit into his hand and ran it up and down his cock, getting ready to be back inside of you. To his joy, he got to watch your fingers slip down to your clit, brushing in a circle that made your hips buck up towards him.

“Ready?” He asked, and when you nodded, he pushed back into you. Somehow, you were even tighter—likely from being close and having adjusted to his fingers. It felt glorious, and he wasted no time finding a brutal rhythm. He tugged at your legs, pulling them up, so your calves draped over his shoulder, which made you scramble for skin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Harry,” you moaned as he thrust into you, hands reaching for his collarbone.

He was close too, the sight of you on the edge and this feeling dizzying him. “I’m close,” he mumbled, and he watched you force your eyes open.

“I think—fuck—I think I might squirt. Is that, shit, is that okay?” The way you stumbled over your words made him smile, and so did what you said. It was a treat, something he’d never expected, but holy hell did he want.

“Fuck yes it is,” he answered, bending forward slightly so your thighs strained. “What do you need?”

“Fingers,” you replied. “On my clit. And a towel below me if you don’t mind your duvet getting wet.”

The prospect of leaving your pussy sounded downright unfathomable, so Harry decided he didn’t give a single shit about the state of his bed. He had plenty of blankets. Who cared about a duvet. “It’s fine,” he told you. Then, he reached between your legs and brushed his fingers over your clit, which made your pussy tighten immediately and your hips buck.

It was like you couldn’t control yourself, the way your hips moved. Harry had to stay incredibly close, so he didn’t slip out, but he didn’t mind. He loved how you felt around him, all consuming and deliciously wet. He wanted to see you squirt more than anything, so he was staving off his orgasm until after you finished, but the effort was torture. The distraction of rubbing your clit was helping, but he didn’t know how much longer he could last.

“Gonna come for me, love?” He mumbled, words tumbling from his fucked out brain. “Wanna see you squirt all over me.”

That, it seemed like, did the trick. Your walls tightened immediately, and Harry felt the rush of your orgasm immediately, coating his lower body in wet. The sight of it, mixed with the load moans spilling from your mouth and the sight of your hand gripping your breast, pulling taut on the skin did it for him. It put him over the edge, and he stuttered, his pace faltering as he came into the condom, gripping your thighs as he rode his finish, the feeling of your squirt making his finish even more intense than usual.

Panting, he gently pulled out of you, letting your thighs fall to the side. “Holy shit,” he said, chest heaving.

You laughed gently, hand dropping to the bed. “Holy shit is right.”

He looked down at your pussy, where a large area around it was wet from you squirting. Harry had only had one girl squirt on him before, and it had been a while ago, so he’d forgotten what it felt like. And how much he fucking loved it. “That was insane.” He looked up at you. “You doing okay?”

You nodded. “Just a little sticky.”

He laughed. “Want to take a shower?”

“Please,” you answered. He reached his hand out for you, and you took it, letting him help you up. When you got to sitting, he pressed a gentle kiss to your nose. The gesture made your heart warm, especially after how vulnerable you’d been with him. You hadn’t done that with every guy you’d been with, and you weren’t fully sure why you trusted him with it, but you were happy you did. Your mind was floaty, drained from most thoughts, and your body felt light in all the right ways.

He led you to the shower, turning on the hot water for you and pointing to where the fresh towels and soap were. “Going to change the sheets,” he said, giving you a kiss on the lips before leaving you to it.

You stood under the shower, letting the warm water fall on your skin. It brought you back into your body. You used the soap and washed up, cleaning all the aftermath of sex from your skin. Then, you stepped out, grabbing a fresh towel, and sat on the toilet to pee, before heading back to his room.

The bed was freshly made, the wet duvet gone from sight. Harry was still naked, tucking a blanket onto the bed when you walked in. “Feel better?”

“Perfect,” you answered. “Thanks for letting me do that.”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m going to take one myself—help yourself to anything you need.”

He patted down the hall, leaving you alone in his room. It was fun to be left alone in a boy’s room, allowing you to snoop just a bit. You explored the framed photos on his dresser and bedside table, finding out he had a sister, and found some photos of him and some friends, boys you thought might be his roommates. His cologne sat on the dresser, and you made a mental note of the brand and scent name, deciding that you’d make the next boyfriend you had wear it because you loved the way Harry smelled.

A book you’d never read before sat on the bedside table and you picked it up, curious. You were reading the inside flap when Harry re-entered the room, causing you to look up. “It’s good,” he said. “The book.”

“Good to know.”

“So.” He pushed the door shut and gestured to the bed. “You’re welcome to stay the night—it’s pretty late. But if you want to head home that’s totally fine too, happy to call you an Uber. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

He was sweet, you decided. That much was clear, from the way his green eyes gleamed with honesty. Sometimes guys would say all that just as a way to pressure you to leave, but this time you truly felt like he didn’t mind either way. “I’ll stay if you’re okay with it.”

Harry smiled at you, and you knew you’d made the right decision. You weren’t quite ready for the night to end, and you didn’t really feel like putting on your clothes and sitting in a stranger’s car right now. “Of course—need something to sleep in?”

“I, uh, usually sleep naked,” you said.

That made Harry split a wide grin. “Knew I liked you for a reason.”

You returned his smile, and as the two of you got into his bed, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. If this was just a random hookup or maybe turn into a multiple time thing. Because honestly, you wouldn’t mind if it happened again. You were even curious what this boy was like during the daytime, if you were completed truthful with yourself. And as you laid on his pillows and he asked you questions about your life, seeming to be genuinely interested, you couldn’t help wonder if maybe he felt the same way.

fill my inbox with your favorite moments, lines, things you’re having ~feels~ about, or other concepts you’re dreaming up for me!!! missed you all <;3

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles concept #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles writing #harry styles x mc

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maccreadysbaby · 1 year

Text

Writing Tips!

category : angst

a few tips on writing angst! all examples provided are from my own works, linked next to the quotation!

— ☢︎ —

when describing a character who’s at their breaking point, completely ready to be done with all of this, metaphors and similes are key. metaphors and similes are one of the best ways to help a reader understand how the character feels without directly telling them. they make the statement more powerful and atmosphere-painting.

ex. ❝He felt a it coming; a catastrophic storm brewing somewhere deep inside of him that would demolish everything in its path,❞ (x)

ex. ❝The anxiety that clawed at his throat was so familiar it was like an old friend.❞ (x)

don’t just talk about your character being weak, show us! describe how they’re moving, (if they are) how they’re breathing, wincing, groaning, limping, how with every step they take a new wave of unbearable pain reverberates through their bones.

ex. ❝He couldn’t take a step without nearly falling over from the vertigo, and he’d thrown up whatever fuel was left inside him all over the pre-war pavement of the city. He was officially running on empty.❞ (x)

❝Pulling his eyes open only made it worse, and he groaned in agony, squirming slightly on top of whatever hard surface he was laying on to try and ease the pain. It didn’t work.❞ (x)

when a character is sad or about to cry, don’t just describe it by tears! albeit, tears can be a powerful writing tool for a character whose never cried before, such as one of mine in my wip novel. but for characters that are already heavily emotional, use other descriptions and features. a facial expression can illustrate heartbreak, they can lash out in anger when they’re trying to keep it together, and when they hit they’re breaking point, meltdown style, then you can introduce the tears. just make sure you make the pain the focal point of the work, and not the crying. let the crying be the result of the pain, don’t let the crying introduce the pain. characters don’t need to cry to show that they’re hurting. it might be frantic shuffling, making jokes, sitting in silence, not being themselves, etc.

ex. ❝Their last words came out as a half-voiced whimper, but Deacon flinched like they’d screamed it. Little did they know, it’d hit him like a bullet to the chest.❞ (x)

ex. ❝It was his mask: hide the brokenness with a warm smile and a nice laugh. “Heart still beating and all?” He continued with a half-hearted chuckle.❞ (x)

if you’ve previously established your characters having some kind of trait that implies they would handle trauma or pain in a certain way, don’t change it! if your character is known for running to drugs, don’t make them suddenly just burst into tears in front of the main character. if your characters blunt, make them say it bluntly. if your characters a known crybaby, let them have a cry. just don’t stray from your character build to accommodate emotions — after all, emotions don’t control your character, you do! let those characters handle it how they know to until they can’t anymore. then their final breakdown will have more meaning.

ex. ❝They hadn’t seen Scout in a solid two days, nor had they heard anything about him from anyone. He was standing next to the doorway, dark eyes whiter than normal, hands trembling by his sides. He was sweating almost profusely and looked like he was terrified. If they didn’t know any better, they’d think he was just super worried. But they knew better. The question was, how bad would the withdrawals be this time?❞ (x)

ex. ❝’I’m not (okay),’ He admitted simply, shifting his gaze back towards the noodle robot ahead.❞ (x)

include internal dialogue. even if you’re writing in third and not first person, you can still include internal dialogue! simply interjecting the thoughts into the text like another sentence. it will feel like the characters asking the question or making the statement. it’s a key part of letting the reader in on how your character feels, thinks, and handles their pain.

ex. ❝Why her? Why him? Why them? He knew why — it was his own fault. His own past choices. He’d done this to himself.❞ (x)

ex. ❝His body was aching, and he couldn’t remember the last time he ate or drank, but his own relief wasn’t in the question. What kind of relief did he deserve when his son was sick? Dying?❞ (x)

#creative writing #writing #own character #original character #writers #fanfiction writer #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing tips #writing angst

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kakhaev-ivan · 6 months

Text

dance till you die

so me back to lab. i guess i will just write presentation on NeRF model without camera parameters. I wonder how long it will take me.

tomatos: 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅

two pomodors takes a fucking eternally. feels like i can do something actually productive instead of what im actually doing, but usually it’s not the case.

words cost nothing, so just write to your heart content.

i can share my insane theories here. do you think that all the things before where so organic and chaotic because ppl did everything with their hands. they just have to build a place where our authentic minds can rest from chaos? where symmetry and precision are ruled? i talking about churches of course. now you can find symmetry and precision everywhere. but i don’t really know history, i just think it’s a interesting thought.

i lived for so long, but it’s feels like i always alone. not sure if that is common thing or not. I like science but don’t really do anything with that, maybe i need to start to make observations on smth… i already living in this world for almost 30 years, hmm counting tiles on buildings are fun but useless. weather just changes. i feel like i can do with my obsessive personality, loneliness and data analysis skills, but not sure what.

all my things screaming “count random things” but i think finding patterns and correlations between things is more interesting. on all my ramblings chatgpt suggested me to join citizen science projects.

maybe i can make a wind speed monitor, or built small submarine to monitor water and see levels? pretty sure i’m not smart enough to do that, but i just tired of sitting and doing nothing while my body is slowly dying.

I remember being a boy in a village without internet and with barely functional TV. just walking around and try to find things to do. reading was an adventure, even of old crappy books. putting leafs of a tree in a jar of water, too se for how long it will stay green, was a scientific experiment. working in garden was a lot of fun. never thought about my body or grinding work because I will not be able to afford food next month.

tried to start my scooter, i think the battery is dead.

is money all that matters in this world? maybe i was wrong and all i need to do all along is just to spend all my time and thoughts trying to maximize amount of money i have? is that a good idea? nobody values fucking knowledge or care, or teachers and nurses will be the most valuable people.

***

Silence, no, wind and cars driving through the streets and alarms of the ambulances, this is my silence. your friend became a journalist and covers what is going on in the world outside, meanwhile me covering bullshit that happens in my brain, that no one cares about.

we track ppl across the web, on every website that you going, why not track ppl on a streets then? imagine you can open map and see where each individual person is, ohhh if you can see what they are doing it’s even better. oh well dreams. i wonder how easy right now to track ppl down, now it’s sounds like regular journalism. making same things in different categories makes different types of work.

i guess when ppl write essays about something they dig deep into one thing, like saying everything you can say about fallen leaf. should i do that? it’s sounds kinda a bit more boring then just went out about life. i would never read about other person life, usually it so boring, why do that if we have fiction. talking about the devil, i think i unable to write anything coherent about imaginary people interacting, i guess everything comes with experience, but i don’t really feel like doing that. what i feel like doing is to describe world around me with excessive details. so where do i start?

comparing urself to others? only yourself

i totally forgot about TIL, so what do i learn today? huh i actually didn’t learn anything, because i didn’t actually seek it. let’s it to be first lesson for me.

what a day

#blog #text

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reidgraygubler · 3 years

Text

look at my son (spencer reid/reader)

Title: look at my son

Request: no

Couple: dad!spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: fluff w/ a side of angst

Content Warning: spencer’s pov, mentions of an absent father, mentions of child birth, crying, anxieties about parenthood, new parents, talks about spencer’s past (prison, addiction, kidnapping), brief mentions about past suicidal thoughts, mentions of drugs (Dilaudid) and needles

Word Count: 3,957

Summary: spencer has a heart to heart with his newborn son while his wife sleeps.

A/N: totally based on dear theodosa from the hamilton soundtrack. I am not afraid to say that. Definitely big feels happening and there’s no regrets. this is possibly my favorite thing i’ve ever written. my best friend said it was soft and adorable, and so sweet she needed a dentist. i love it so much. thank you all so much for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

“Go to sleep, please, you need rest,” I whispered as I looked down at my overly-exhausted wife. Although her face was looking up at me, her eyes were somewhere else. They were on a small figure just to the left of me. Her eyes had a certain glossiness over them, and it was most certainly from her exhaustion or the hours of pain she just endured to bring our son into the world.

“B-but,” she finally looked away from the figure and up at me. “What… What if he wakes up… And, and he needs me.” Her voice was soft and cracked at the end of her words. I smiled softly as I tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

“It’s a good thing I never sleep. Please, you really need the rest. I’ll be here,” I returned the whisper before pressing my lips to her forehead. Her hand gripped mine as I went to move away. I looked down at her, appreciating the way the dim lamp lit up her face. Even though she was extremely tired, she still looked beautiful to me.

“If he wakes up… Or… Or cries… Or moves the wrong way… Please, wake me up," she whispered, her eyes still on me. The grip she held on my hand wasn’t super tight, but it was tight enough for me to keep my hand in hers.

“Please trust me… He’ll be fine and I’ll be fine. If I need help I’ll get a nurse,” I lifted a hand and gently held her face. She slowly blinked and nodded. “Everything will be okay for an hour, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” she looked between me and the sleeping baby, “An hour is so long,” she whined. I smiled before laughing softly.

“Get some rest,” I pressed my lips to her forehead, again, before to her lips, “I love you,” I looked down at her with a soft smile.

“But...”

“Go to sleep,” I stared at her. She grumbled a little bit before pulling the blanket further up her body. I finally pulled my hand from hers and went back to the chair. I kept my eyes on her for a few minutes, watching as she tossed and turned before eventually falling asleep. I felt a little bad for forcing her to go to sleep, mostly because I knew she wanted to spend every waking moment with our son. But when she was actually awake, she was so exhausted that it looked like she’d pass out at any moment.

When I was sure she was asleep for a little while, I flipped my book open and began to read. Of course, my attention only lasted for so long when a soft sound came from the bassinet beside me. I pulled my eyes off the book and looked towards my son. He was wiggling slightly in his spot, but just a little bit. If you were just looking in the room, and not right at him, you wouldn’t have noticed him moving. But my attention was solely on him, so I could see his movements.

I looked over at my sleeping wife, noting that she was stirring slightly. My eyes stayed on her for a moment, waiting till she got comfortable again before I stood from the chair and walked over to the bassinet.

“Hey there,” I looked down at the wiggling form. I know he wasn’t looking at me, but my heart grew as he moved his head to face me. “Your mom is asleep right now. So, you’ve got me. Your dad,” I whispered as I carefully rested my hand on his body. He was so small, my hand was almost the size of him. “I’m your dad.”

I stayed silent as I stared at him. I didn’t want to pick him up, in case he went back to sleep. Of course, luck would not be on my side. Because the second I pulled my hand from his body, he started screaming and crying.

“Oh, please, please don’t,” I cringed as I quickly looked over my shoulder at my wife. She had begun stirring again, slowly waking up. “I got it, it’s okay,” I spoke loud enough for her to hear. I turned and looked back at the screaming boy.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” I whispered as I picked him up, holding him close to my chest with both my hands. The second he was close to me, he calmed down. A small sigh of relief came from me as I turned to sit back down.

My wife was still, her eyes on me with a small smile on her lips. “Go back to sleep, I got it,” I looked back at her as I adjusted my hold on the baby.

“He’s so little in your arms though…” she whispered as she kept her eyes on me. I looked up from our baby and at her. “Just a widdle man,” she closed her eyes before sighing deeply.

“Yeah, he is, isn’t he?” I asked, bringing my hand to his face. My fingers gently brushed across his cheeks before down the bridge of his nose.

I was happy I didn’t get an answer from my wife. I was even happier when I looked up at her and she was asleep. Actually asleep too. I could only hope it was a restful sleep this time.

My attention was drawn back down to my son when he started crying a little bit. I was instantly looking at his face. The longer I stared at him, the more my heart swelled or fluttered or whatever it was it was doing. I knew a lot of things. But, I didn’t know the feeling I was having for my son, my own child. Of course, I felt this feeling before with my wife. But this was somehow different.

“So, anyway, I’m your dad… That’s so weird to say… that I’m someone’s dad now,” I whispered as I brought my hand to hold the back of his head. “I never thought I’d ever say that, but we’ll keep that between you and me, okay?” I smiled softly. My body carefully swayed back and forth to try to keep him quiet.

I stayed quiet as I stared at him. I wasn’t scared that I’d wake him up. No, I was just scared I’d say the wrong thing. But can you really say the wrong thing to a baby who was 12 hours old? I wasn’t entirely sure, but it was one of my fears.

“You know, growing up I didn’t exactly have a dad. He left me when I was just 10,” my voice was hardly a whisper as I stared at him. I could feel tears begin to well in the corner of my eyes. There was nothing I could do to stop them either. I just had to let them roll down my cheeks.

“I just had my mom. And, well, my mom just had me." I brought my hand back to rest on his body. The way he breathed seemingly calmed me down. But I think it was the fact that he was okay that was calming me. He’s been okay since the first day we knew about him. In fact, he was more than okay. He was perfect.

“But I promise,” my voice was shaky as I stared at him, “I’ll be around for you. You’ll have a mom and a dad.” I tried to keep my voice from cracking, but it was hard not to let the emotions show.

I pressed my head back into the headrest behind me. Just as my eyes closed, he started moving around against my chest. I looked down at him and saw him looking back up at me.

“Hey there,” I laughed as I looked at his eyes, “You have your mom’s eyes,” I wrinkled my nose as I stared at him.

I tried to not think about all the monsters in the world outside of our hospital room. All the horrors and terrors his mom and I have gone through to get to this very moment. I’d do whatever it takes just to make sure he’s safe and sound. The thoughts of the monsters made me scared. Is this what parenthood would be? Being scared every waking moment, while simultaneously being in love, and embracing the ups and downs of everything?

Was I prepared for this? Was I prepared at all to be a father? I mean, I didn’t have a father figure till I was 22, but even he left me. I tried to not think about it, but it was becoming increasingly harder the more I sat in silence.

With a deep sigh, I looked down at him. I was happy he was quiet. He had a long day too. Being born can do a lot to a person, well to more than a person. I think I’m more happy than tired, to be honest. That he’s here, and he’s perfect, and no one would ever be as perfect as he is to me.

I’ve waited for this moment for… I don’t even know. I don’t think there was a starting point, the feeling was just always there. 9 months ago just fueled this feeling. And, now he’s here. It took him a long time today, too. He really wanted his first appearance to be grand. Just like his mother.

“I’m a dad,” I whispered, this time letting my words break. My eyes stayed glued to him. It was impossible to say how much time had passed, but I knew it was a while. And his mom stayed asleep the whole time. Just like how he did.

If I had known I’d become a dad 15 years ago, when I was kidnapped by Tobias Henkel, when I thought I’d die then… I probably would have been safer and stayed with JJ. I wouldn’t have split up with her. Or, all those times after I was kidnapped, sitting in a bathroom stall with a needle in my arm while Dilaudid ran through my bloodstream, waiting for the high to kick in or take me for good. Or… Or my time in prison, where there were the times I almost got killed… I could go on, really. I have too many near-death experiences to count.

“I can’t wait to tell you all the stories I know, you’ll love them,” I ran my finger back down his nose before resting it gently on his lips, then on his chin. “Russian folk tales… Chaucer, like my mother told me… Stories of cases your mom and I were on,” I smiled as his nose twitched slightly. I sighed deeply before pressing my head against the chair behind me. “Maybe someday I’ll teach you chess.”

Even though all he did was just be born, he still went through some traumatic stuff. All of that can do a lot to a person. And when he was finally here, and in our arms, he cried. He cried to let his long awaited parents know he was finally here. It made my wife cry, and it made me cry. But it was the way he cried that broke my heart. The sharp ear-piercing screams resonated in the room, and I knew for sure I’d never forget it.

My arms stayed still, holding him close to my chest. I couldn’t stop my eyelids from shutting, like miniature garage doors closing. My body was yelling, shouting for sleep. Even though I never slept before this, watching my wife give birth, and all the moments leading up to this moment here, were exhausting. But they’re precious moments. All 3 of us may be exhausted, but it’ll be worth it all.

Although, it was this moment that I decided every day was going to be for him. He was going to be the reason I’d return home instead of staying at the office late. Before his birth, and even before we found out about him, I never envisioned my life turning domestic. To be honest, even though I longed to be a parent, I never truly envisioned myself adopting a domestic life-style.

As long as he stayed still in my arms, he could stay with me while I slept. I think even if he squirmed a little bit in my arms, he couldn’t get very far. His tired little body was wrapped tightly in his blanket. Thankfully he was fast asleep, not a care in the world. He was still entirely too little to have anything to care about, other than eating and sleeping.

It was early in the morning, or some would say late at night. Our room was dark, the only light coming from the small desk lap on the nightstand beside me. Outside, the sun was just starting to rise, making the sky a dark pale blue. Usually I’d watch the sunrise, but… my son.

The quietness of our room mixed with the whispers of the nurses out in the halls, and their squeaky shoes, and the whirring of the hospital machinery became my soft lullabies, lulling me to sleep. The three of us slept peacefully, not a bother in the room.

But what it was that actually got me to sleep was the thought of him growing up. I thought I was smart, but the images and thoughts of him older, and even now, made me so… happy that I felt dumb.

{***}{***}{***}

“When did you say they were coming?” my wife asked, looking between me and the baby. I looked down at my watch, trying to remember when the team would come over to visit. It wasn’t that I forgot when they were coming over… I just had other things on my mind. Like my son and wife for instance.

“I think, any minu-”’-te now.’

“Alright, where’s my precious godson!” a woman exclaimed, cutting me off, as she entered the room. I looked over at the door for a brief moment, watching as 4 people walked into the room. A small smile grew across my lips as I recognized the 4 people as Penelope, Luke, JJ, and Emily.

“Hey,” my wife looked at everyone with a big smile and exhausted eyes.

“Good morning, mom and dad,” Penelope looked between us. The smile she wore was bright and cheery, like usual. She carried a balloon, a stuffed animal, and a few large gift bags.

“It’s so nice seeing you guys,” my wife smiled as she spoke.

“It’s hard to believe that you just had a baby. You look… Amazing,” JJ laughed as she looked at my wife. My wife looked over at JJ with a certain exhaustion in her eyes.

“I don’t feel like I look amazing,” she laughed lightly. The baby in her arms wiggled slightly, causing everyone to look at him.

“Oh, look at him,” Penelope cooed as she looked between me, my wife, then finally at my son. I smiled as I looked at the small baby in my wife’s arms. “You must be so proud, Spence." “Well, I wouldn’t say proud is the word I’m looking for,” I laughed as I peeled my eyes off my child and looked at Penelope, Luke, JJ, and Emily. Although I was half expecting them to be looking at the sleeping baby, they were looking at me. How did they not want to look at my baby? He’s all I wanted to look at. He had my undivided attention now.

“It’s so weird that you're a dad now,” JJ laughed as she walked around the other 3 guests and came to stand closer to me. I smiled, watching as she placed a small, pale blue gift bag on the small table.

“Do you want to hold him?” My wife looked up at JJ with a smile. JJ looked down at the baby before up at my wife.

“Are-are you sure?” JJ laughed lightly as she looked between my wife and child. I smiled as I looked at JJ. I laughed lightly at her hesitance. To be fair, she just wanted to make extra sure it was okay, since we’re new parents.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure,” my wife laughed as she carefully held out her arms. JJ smiled as she carefully picked our baby up from her arms. I smiled as she sat on the edge of the bed, holding my baby close to her body.

“He’s… precious,” JJ whispered as he looked down at him. “He has your nose,” she looked over at my wife, who was lovingly looking at our baby. A small smile grew across her lips as she nodded.

“Well, he has his father’s eyes.” My wife looked up at me with a small smile. If we hadn’t already argued over his little facial features, I would’ve argued with her that our son looks the most like her. That was why he was perfect.

“Has Derek come by yet?” Emily asked as she looked away from the baby and at me.

“He said he’d visit when we got back home,” I nodded as I looked over at her. Emily nodded before returning her gaze back to the baby. Everyone was looking at him, and I didn’t blame them.

“You guys… You take all the time that you need. Don’t rush back to the office,” Emily nodded.

“But please come by and visit us all you want,” Penelope spoke as she looked between my small family. I laughed and nodded.

“We’ll definitely come and visit you guys.”

“You all know Spence. Can’t stay away from the office for a long time,” it was my wife’s turn to talk. She looked at me and lifted a hand. I looked back at her, adoring the way she smiled at me. I lifted my hand and placed it in hers. When she finds out that my days of staying late at the office are over, I’m sure she’ll be more than excited.

“Maybe those days are over,” I shrugged as I looked down at the baby. I smiled softly and felt a sudden wave of calm wash over me. Everyone looked away from the baby and up at me with mild shock on their faces.

“Really?” My wife asked as she gently pulled on my arm. I looked down at my wife, noting the way she was looking back at me.

“I’ve been thinking about it. No hard answers,” I spoke as I looked back at Emily.

“Take all the ti-” She was unfortunately cut off by her phone ringing, “time… I’ll be right back,” she nodded before leaving the room.

“I can’t wait to spoil the little sucker,” Penelope clapped her hands together as she looked between us. I laughed, watching as Luke looked at his partner.

“Sure, spoil,” he nodded. The moment was ruined by our son unexpectedly screaming. JJ looked over at my wife, an apologetic look on her face.

“It’s okay. You know how newborns are,” my wife laughed as she took the baby from JJ.

“With that, we should probably go. Little guy’s probably hungry,” JJ nervously chuckled as she stood. I shoved my hands in my pockets and stepped over to the three.

“Thanks for stopping over. You guys seriously don’t know how much this means to me… To us,” I gestured over to my wife as I spoke.

“Oh, Spence, of course! Wouldn’t miss visiting you guys the first day as parents,” JJ smiled as she hugged me. I hummed as I hugged her.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been asleep, if I had slept at all. I wasn’t even sure if it was a restful sleep either. But what I did know that one second later my body jerked awake when the loud sharp cries of a baby.

My eyes snapped open and I looked down at the screaming figure. I cringed as I glanced at my wife, who I hoped was sleeping. But she was awake. Her eyes were glued to me and the baby.

“What are you doing awake?” I asked as I looked over at my wife, who was looking at me with wide, dewy eyes. Her exhausted smile told me that she’d been awake for a while. I looked down at the screaming baby in my arms before looking back at her. “Figured that one out myself.” I laughed when I realized the redundancy of my question. I stood up and lightly bounced to try to quiet the baby.

“I can take him.” My wife smiled as she looked up at me and lifted up her hands. Her eyes were glued to the small figure in my hands. I looked down at the baby and nodded.

“Yeah, I knew you were about to say that.” I laughed as I stepped over to her. She finally looked away from the baby and up at me with a smile. “How’d you sleep?”

“Well, I slept.” She sighed deeply as she held the baby close to her. She looked down at him and smiled. “Hello, little man," she whispered as she brought her finger down his nose. “How did you sleep?”

“To be honest, I don’t think I did.” I wrinkled my eyebrows as I sat back down. “Just… I’m not sure anymore. I didn’t sleep before he was born… But now I think I’ve lost all chances of sleep with him.” I chucked as I looked over at them.

“Well… I mean, I’m sure your 12 cups of coffee a day won’t help that situation.” She laughed as she glanced at me. I slouched back in my chair, resting my head on my fist. “Or, well, I take that back. Keep drinking your 12 cups. I don’t want to wake up at 3 in the morning for diaper changes.” She sighed as she looked at the baby.

“Guess I’m going to need all of the time off in the world then,” I spoke through a yawn. My wife smiled at me and nodded. “Surely Emily won’t care if we’re both off for a while. She’s got plenty of help with the team.”

“I think I’ll need the help more than Emily,” my wife chuckled lightly. “You should get some rest, Spencer. You look more exhausted than me.”

“How do you know what you look like?” I furrowed my eyebrows. She glanced at me before patting the small space beside her. I looked at her hand before yawning again.

“Just a guess. C’mere,” she looked at me as she moved her hand back and forth on the space. With a deep sigh, I stood up and moved so I was sitting beside her on the bed. “There, now you’ll sleep better.”

“And where’d you get this science from?” I asked as I rested my head on her shoulder. She chuckled lightly and shrugged.

“On the science that I’m your wife and I know you sleep better when you’re beside me instead of a crappy hospital chair.” She looked down at me. I looked back at her before blinking lightly.

“Okay, that’s pretty sound logic.” I nodded as I looked down at the baby, who was back to sleep. It was amazing what a mother’s touch could do.

“See, like father, like son," she whispered as she brought her hand back up to her face. I furrowed my eyebrows before smiling. “Please get some sleep.”

“Beginning to sound like me there.” I lifted my head slightly to look at her. She looked back at me before pressing her lips to mine.

“Sleep tight.” She ruffled my hair slightly. I smiled before resting me head back on her shoulder.

I was happy when sleep came to me. It felt more restful than before… Maybe my wife’s scientific logic made sense...

taglist: @mggsprettygirl @muffin-cup @thebluetint @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds fan fic

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redhoodieone · 3 years

Text

You’re so Lucky!

A/N: Hey y’all! Here’s another sexy story that was a request from the amazing @jasontoddslut! Enjoy my peeps!

Warnings: Language, Bad Relationship with Ex-Boyfriend, Smut, Voyeurism, and Jason’s Goddamn Dirty Mouth!!!!!

It was bound to happen. She couldn’t deny this was going to happen sooner rather than later. If she believed they that they could get through their issues and be happy like they once were, then she’s a real fucking idiot.

Gabi still couldn’t believe it though. One minute she was trying to calm Bobby down and the next, he’s screaming at her and telling her to get the fuck out of his apartment. He was in a bad mood to begin with. He’s a mechanic and he’s always tired when he gets home. He was expecting dinner to be ready and maybe have his loving girlfriend of three years rub his back since his shoulder pain is getting worse.

But no. Gabi made the mistake of asking Bobby where he was tonight as soon as he got home.

What set him off was her telling him to calm down. She should have known though.

You should NEVER. EVER. Tell an easily angry guy to calm down.

Because that’s like telling fire to not burn people. Or telling a baby to not cry.

She should have known better though. It’s no surprise Bobby’s into some serious shady shit that the low life Gothamites meet up sometimes at night in casinos or nightclubs. She knows they do illegal shit like selling drugs, ordering weapons from other countries, and maybe even kidnapping young women and children.

And Bobby had participated in the ordering weapons category.

How Gabi found out is another story: she knows for damn sure that Bobby once brought home fifteen state of the art total militia AK-47 guns. Bobby had foolishly asked Gabi to go get some important documents from his huge safe; totally forgetting the weapons were in there about five months prior.

Why would a normal mechanic need such weapons?

Gabi had decided to never bring it up. Bobby would either deny or lie about it. His temper had been getting worse right about then and she knew better.

But he wasn’t always like this. Oh, no. Bobby was a funny, laid back, and loving type who worshipped the ground Gabi walked on before they even started dating. But after two years of living with each other, things changed.

Simple as that. Things changed.

Gabi always wondered how things could just...change. So easily. The fact that it could happen in the blink of an eye frightens her sometimes.

Just like Bobby’s hidden anger. She never knew a hilarious and sweet guy could have the rage of a bull.

Bobby never hit her though. He always made sure to slam his fist against the wall beside her head, though. He was the type to yell and belittle Gabi as if she was a little girl.

But she wasn’t a little girl. She was a 23-year-old woman who moved in with her boyfriend so fast that she began to understand why her parents and friends disapproved of her choices and relationship.

I just had to learn the hard way, Gabi thought to herself.

She doesn’t know why she’s trying to think of sayings that relate to this experience. The point is, Gabi knows she seriously fucked. With Bobby only giving her ten minutes to pack whatever truly mattered to her, she had to hurry the fuck up.

The moment she made it outside the apartment building, all Gabi could do is replay her questions that she asked Bobby.

Where were you tonight?

Were you with someone?

What did you do?

Why can’t you tell me what you did?

Are you hiding something from me?

Are you getting into dangerous things?

No wonder Bobby kicked her out. Gabi should have never put her nose in his business. And now, she’s practically homeless. She knows it would be embarrassing as hell to go back to her parents’ house because of what they told her before getting involved with Bobby. She also knows her friends would treat her horribly, with the “I told you so” stares and lectures. Gabi was certainly running out of options just as the rain began to fall.

There was one person she could go to, who would never turn her away.

However, Gabi hasn’t spoken to this person in about a year because of her relationship with Bobby as well as this person’s own relationship with their significant other.

But Gabi knew Y/N was a good person, a good friend. She was a sweet person, with a big warm heart and she would never turn her away.

With nowhere else to go, Gabi walked alone in the rain all the way down to high class side of Gotham.

By the time Gabi gets to the high-class penthouses, she has to call Y/N to let her inside. Of course, Y/N excitedly tells her to come up, and Gabi immediately starts to feel somehow relieved that Y/N hasn’t changed at all.

As Gabi finally makes it to the correct floor, she sees Y/N waiting by the door, where Gabi assumes is where Y/N lives. Y/N is wearing a red and black flannel pajama pants and a thin black tank top. Gabi also notices Y/N’s barefoot, and her hair’s in a messy bun.

She must have just woken up. I’m so sorry, Y/N, Gabi thinks to herself.

But none of that matters when Y/N meets Gabi halfway in the hall where they collide in a tight, warm-hearted embrace. Y/N smells like a woodsy, musky cologne, most likely from whoever she’s seeing with now. Maybe they were snuggling up against with each other until Gabi had called and asked if she could come over.

“Come inside. You must be freezing!” Y/N says, releasing Gabi from her hug and pulling her arm towards the front door.

Gabi follows on shaky legs, completely overwhelmed by seeing her longtime best friend. Y/N giggles and leads Gabi inside the penthouse. Gabi instantly is hit by the aroma of vanilla and musk, the smell of intimacy and seduction. Her eyes take in the red and black walls and décor, some exquisite art pieces, and the big space that is more comfortable and warmer than most homes she’s ever seen.

“Welcome, mi casa es tu casa! Seriously Gabi, babe, make yourself at home. There’s absolutely no rush to leave. You leave when you’re ready, okay?” Y/N says seriously.

“Are you absolutely sure? I really don’t want to impose or put you and your boyfriend out,” Gabi confesses.

Y/N leads Gabi to the long, cherry red couch that is facing a huge flat screen TV. Gabi sets down her duffle bag and takes a seat next to Y/N on the couch.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Jay and I insist you stay here until you figure out what you want to do, okay?” Y/N says, before she turns around to get comfortable to face Gabi.

A vanilla candle is lit on the coffee table. Gabi’s cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I didn’t...interrupt something, did I?”

“Oh, no, you didn’t! I was just setting the mood in the living room to be more...comfy,” Y/N admits, with a chuckle. “Jason just got home a few minutes ago and is taking a shower. He should be done by now.”

As if on cue, they hear someone walking down the hall and towards the living room. He stops near the couch. There in all his glory, well half-naked glory, stands Jason Todd, God’s greatest creation of man...at least that’s what both girls were thinking.

“Gabi, this is Jason, my boyfriend,” Y/N proudly introduces Jason to Gabi. “Jay, this is Gabi, my best friend in the whole wide world.”

Still dripping wet and fresh out of the shower, Jason at least has a white towel wrapped around his waist; hiding his goods that Gabi wanted to see so desperately. He’s really tall, must be 6’2 or something close to that. She takes note that Jason is all man: there’s absolutely nothing that screams “boy”. Gabi inhales hard when she watches his large hand run through his soaked dark hair. The other hand holds the towel tightly around his hips.

“Hi,” Jason smirks at Gabi. She notices his eyes are green, almost like emeralds. He smiles at her, even his white teeth are perfect. “So, you’re Gabi. Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”

“She-she has?” Gabi chokes out. Why is it so hot in here? Why can’t she speak?

Her eyes zero in on the droplets of water running down his strong as fuck built chiseled chest and perfectly sculpted abs that she really wants to lick and bite his skin.

Holy fuck...

Gabi scolds herself for thinking such inappropriate thoughts about her best friend’s boyfriend. Even though Gabi’s never fantasized Bobby this kind of way, she realizes Y/N’s lucked out. Bobby wasn’t in shape or even remotely attractive like Jason.

“Of course, she has. You’re one of her best friends, and I’m happy to finally meet you. I would go over there to shake your hand and properly greet you, but I’m uh...not exactly dressed yet,” Jason chuckles, and almost seems shy now. “I’m gonna go get dressed real quick so we can talk.”

You don’t have to. You can stay the way you are. You can even drop the towel, Gabi thinks improperly.

Y/N smiles softly at Jason as they watch him leave. True to his word, Jason returned in a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt and took a seat next to Y/N. Throughout their comfortable and pleasant conversation, Gabi truly sees the way Jason cares about her best friend. Midway through their talk about what happened to Bobby, Jason clearly was paying attention and rubbed caressed Y/N’s thigh when Gabi recounted the latest scary fight with Bobby. Whenever Y/N looked shocked or worried, Jason made sure to calm her down through touches, forehead kisses, and whispers words along the lines of love, probably.

It almost makes Gabi jealous. Y/N’s life is clearly so much better than what Gabi had going on for herself. Jason seems like the perfect gentleman; always does and says the right thing. Gabi’s never seen a man pay so much attention to a woman before. Not only did he offer Gabi his advice and opinions on getting a better and more affordable apartment on their street, but Jason even voiced his hatred for Bobby, and even went on to criticize the man for treating women so poorly. He even made a joke about finding the man and breaking his legs; making Gabi and Y/N laugh their asses off and making the energy around them fun again.

But for some reason, Gabi couldn’t help but notice that Jason wasn’t laughing as hard as she and Y/N were. It almost seemed like Jason was serious about breaking Bobby’s legs, but Jason wouldn’t do that. She was sure of it.

He wouldn’t, would he?

By the time midnight came, the three of them stood up and decided to go to bed. Jason even surprised Gabi by giving her a hug and telling her that she can stay in their guest bedroom for however long as she wants and needs.

“I’m serious, kid. Don’t even worry about it. You mean so much to Y/N, and so therefore, you mean a lot to me, too,” Jason had said as he pulled back from their hug.

Gabi was speechless to say the least. She didn’t want the hug to end. He felt so good in her arms and he smelled so fucking good.

But it was bedtime now, and once Y/N and Jason had shown Gabi the guest bedroom, they went off to bed to let Gabi get comfortable. It wasn’t long for Gabi to quickly clean herself up and put on some plain pajama shorts with a tank top. As soon as she turned off the light, she was amazed by how big and comfortable the bed was. She figured it must be new and is probably the first person to sleep in here. In just a few minutes, exhaustion took over and Gabi fell into a deep sleep.

Her throat was dry. That’s what awoke Gabi at two in the morning and made her climb out of bed and go search for a bottle of water. She made sure to tiptoe out of the room and walk slowly and quietly to the kitchen.

As soon as Gabi made it to the end of the hallway, she stops dead in her tracks when she hears moaning. A woman moaning.

Her mind registers that it’s Y/N moaning. But why is she moaning in the living room?

Curiosity forces Gabi to peek out into the living room and see what’s going on, despite the logical part in her mind is screaming at her to have some respect for her best friend and her boyfriend.

But being a pervert outweighs being a prude.

Gabi is utterly shocked to her core when she sees her best friend straddling Jason’s lap. On the red couch where they sat a couple of hours ago, Gabi sees Y/N and Jason making out heavily. She couldn’t unsee it; she wants to keep watching them.

Gabi even sees the vanilla candle is lit again, after Jason had blown it out before they all went to bed.

But all Gabi could see is Jason’s fingertips digging hard into Y/N’s exposed flesh from where her tank top is pushed up above her bare tits. Y/N shamelessly moans in between the evident delicious kisses, and grinds against Jason’s apparent bulge.

Gabi quickly notices an isolated leather recliner that’s against the wall near the hallway. She throws herself down, sinks into the chair and watches the practically live porno show in front of her.

Jason pulls back from the deep kiss, revealing his red, swollen lips from where Y/N’s been biting and sucking since the beginning. He rests his head back against the couch and looks up with hazy, lustful eyes as Y/N grins down at him. She bites her bottom lip and pulls up her tank top, removing her top completely from her body.

“Fuck...what the hell are you doing to me, sweetheart?” Jason asks breathlessly. He runs his hands up Y/N’s back and moves them to her front where he reaches for both her tits.

“I’m slowly...and softly killing you,” Y/N says, closing her eyes and moans when Jason gently grabs both her tits in his hands; her breasts fill his hands perfectly.

“I’d say...” he says, before sighing contently when switches from pinching her nipples to squeezing her tits before he sits up straighter and pulls Y/N’s body closer to lick and suck her sensitive nipples.

“Oh, fuck...oh Jay...feels so good,” Y/N moans louder than before. She whimpers and continues to rub herself against him. “I need to cum...please make me cum, Jay...”

Jason pulls back from her chest and gazes into Y/N’s eyes. “You wanna cum, doll? Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes, please...I need you so bad!”

“No, I don’t think you need to cum,” Jason teases, before he pulls off his own t-shirt. “Now, I’m going to take off the rest of your clothes, but if you touch your pussy, I ain’t going to fuck you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Y/N snaps. Her cheeks are flushed from being aroused.

Jason smirks at Y/N’s frustration.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, sweetheart. I’m going to check how wet you are,” Jason explains, as he raises Y/N off his lap to pull down her pajama pants and panties; leaving her completely bare on his lap. “If you’re soaking wet, then I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll be feeling me for days. But if I have to make you wet, then that means I get to do whatever I want to this pussy.”

“But-”

Jason runs his hand up Y/N’s thigh until his fingers glide over her bare pussy. His fingers gently push inside her, he can feel the wetness, but wants to see it for himself.

“Stand up and put your pussy in my face,” he demands.

“What?”

“I want to taste your delicious pussy right now. Don’t make me get up and literally put you on my shoulders to eat you out,” Jason threatens.

Y/N slowly moves to stand up carefully on the couch. Her legs are shaking, but Jason quickly grabs her to hold her steady. He doesn’t waste any time, and he dives into her pussy as if he’s a starving man.

“Oh fuck!” Y/N cries out.

Jason’s tongue on her clit is what she wants the most right now. He squeezes her thigh and flicks his tongue side to side until Y/N fears she’s either going to fall back or fall over him.

Y/N notices one of Jason’s pull up bars is above her. How convenient.

She grabs a hold of the bar to hold herself up just as he decides to slip a finger inside her. Holding herself up allows him to remove a hand from her thigh. He takes the opportunity to slip another finger inside and pumps them in and out fast.

Y/N’s body trembles when Jason curls his fingers and strokes the sensitive wall that he’s mastered so well. He can tell she’s close. She must have been excited earlier when they planned to stay in last minute. He manages to look up at her and he can see she’s barely holding on.

“You’re so close aren’t you, babe? You taste so fucking good that I want you to cum on my face. I want you to be my dirty girl tonight,” Jason says as he finger-fucks her harder and faster than before. “Are you going to be my dirty girl tonight?

“Yes! Fuck yes! Just-just make me cum, please!” Y/N cries out desperately, needing the push that Jason could only give her.

“You are my dirty girl. You love it when I make you cum with just my fingers and mouth. But I bet you want my cock right after, huh?” Jason asks, chuckling darkly when Y/N’s eyes roll back when he speeds up his fingers inside her. “You wanna ride me, don’t you?”

“Yes-yes I do...” she’s panting now.

“Okay, I want you to cum in my face and then quickly get on my lap and ride me. Fast, slow, hard, whatever, you pick. I just want to feel your warm, tight pussy around my dick, okay?” Jason says, quickly shoving his sweatpants and boxers down to his feet. “Fuck...give me your pretty, tasty pussy, sweetheart!”

And then Jason finally gives in. He pulls both her thighs to bring her pussy to his face. Y/N whimpers when he licks all around her wetness, and he hums in approval when he feels her hand stroking his scalp and pulling his hair, while she continues holding herself up with only one hand now.

The vibration from his humming helps her reach her release. He continues to thrust his fingers inside her and sucks her clit until she gushes in his face.

Y/N manages to silent most of her orgasm, but it didn’t help when Jason continued to lick and suck at her clit to swallow most of her juices. Once her body relaxes, she lets go of the pull up bar and drops down to the couch. Y/N quickly straddles Jason’s lap until her pussy is hovering above his hard cock.

“Spit on my cock, doll. Get it nice and wet,” Jason says, as he watches Y/N spit in her hand and stroke his thick cock until he’s nice and ready for her. “How are you going to ride me, sweetheart?”

Y/N slowly looks up into Jason’s dilated, misty eyes. “Deep. Hard. And fast,” she says.

Jason swallows hard but is able to quickly smirk up at Y/N before she takes full control. “Then ride me, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on my cock like the dirty girl you really are.”

Y/N finally lowers herself onto Jason’s cock, all logic and common sense flies out the window. Whenever his cock was deep inside her, they both tend to lose themselves and the world around them. Because whenever they were connected emotionally and physically in their bubble, nothing else fucking matters in the world.

When Jason fills her up completely, they both release a content sigh. They usually take their time in the beginning, mostly because of their fears whenever Jason leaves to work as Red Hood. But since they’re both so horny and want to cum sooner, they’ll have to just take their time during round two.

“Fuck me, sweetheart. Fuck yourself silly on my dick,” Jason moans, but he and Y/N laugh at the “silly” part, when he realizes that’s not very sexy.

But Y/N understands and slowly lifts herself up his lap until just the tip of Jason’s cock is inside her. She keeps a steady pace, lifting herself and lowering herself, until their rhythm flows. Within seconds, Jason helps her by holding her hips tightly and thrusting his hips in time with hers.

“Your cock is so big inside me, Jay. You fill me up so good,” Y/N moans and rides him a little faster; wanting the head of his cock to rub hard and relentlessly against her g-spot. She guides one of his hands off her waist to move towards her pussy, encouraging him to rub her clit. “I wanna cum again, Jay.”

“Yeah? You like ridin’ my big cock, you dirty girl? You want me to fill your pussy with my cum?” Jason asks, watching Y/N’s tits bounce while she rides his cock faster than before. He can’t help himself, he uses a free hand to pinch her nipple and leans in to bite and suck her breasts, until he puts his hand back to her hip to guide her thrusts. “You want me to fill you up with my cum?”

“Yes! Yes, please!” Y/N begs.

“Okay, my dirty girl. I’ll give you what you want.”

Well, Jason knows now that this is going to end fast, but he refuses to let it end without Y/N cumming hard again. He squeezes her hip with one hand and the other hand rubs her clit fast in messy circles. He begins to pull her down to meet his thrusts, fucking her harder and faster with everything he’s got. The squelching sound from his cock fucking up into her wet pussy becomes more noticeable, especially when their skin-on-skin slapping gets louder and harsher that echoes in the living room.

“Fuck...Y/N, you’re getting so tight. You feel so fucking good baby,” Jason pants hard, completely sweating and keeping his fast and erratic pace to get them to their releases. “Fuckin’ cum on my big cock, sweetheart. I wanna feel you cum so bad. Please cum for me, again.”

Y/N keeps her eyes on Jason just as her orgasm hits her hard; she squeezes and gushes around his cock, she calls out his name. Jason thrusts harder in her three more times, as he finally cums hard inside Y/N, calls out her name as quietly as he could. Y/N collapses against Jason’s chest, despite being hot and sweaty, but he doesn’t mind. He wraps both arms around her and holds her while they regain their breaths and can function normal again.

Y/N doesn’t see the loving smile Jason gives her as he kisses her forehead. “I love you,” he whispers, and hugs her tighter.

She looks up at him and smiles. “I love you, too.”

Before Y/N can lie her head against Jason’s chest again, she notices Gabi sitting and watching them. Y/N jumps up and covers her breasts with her arms, causing Jason to jump in panic and turn around to see what’s going on.

“Gabi! What-what the hell are you doing there?!” Y/N cries out in embarrassment. She can feel her cheeks are getting red again.

Gabi slowly gets up from the chair and makes her wave into the kitchen. She finds bottled water in the refrigerator, takes one, and goes back into the living room where Jason and Y/N are still frozen in fear.

“I-I was thirsty,” Gabi answers, even though she knows it sounds like a lame answer. She walks backwards until she reaches the hall. “And-and then I saw you guys, and then I couldn’t stop watching. I’m sorry, Y/N...Jason...”

But before Gabi leaves, she points a finger at Jason and smiles. She even chuckles. “But-but in my defense...he’s really sexy! He’s fucking gorgeous, Y/N, and you’re one lucky bitch! You’re so lucky!”

But Gabi is right about that.

Y/N is lucky...because she has Jason.

#dc comics #dc comics batman #jason todd #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x y/n smut #red hood #red hood smut #dc comics red hood #dc comics jason todd

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

How long would it take the volturi to solve the Kira case?

Fascinating question, anon, I like it. So much so you get answered much earlier than you normally would be.

Shinigami and the World of Twilight

In Twilight there are few supernatural creatures that remain in our world. There's vampires, children of the moon, and the shapeshifter. However, these need not be the only supernatural creatures.

There have likely been mass extinctions (seen in Children of the Moon) and there may be more creatures that are so uncommon that we just don't see any hint of them.

Death Note's Shinigami easily fall into this category.

They live in another dimension, and in the human world (which they rarely visit in person), they're invisible to the eye save for those who have touched their death note. Their methods of killing are so unobtrusive, (heart attacks by default or whatever method they please), that they're unlikely to be noticed unless someone (i.e. Light) is trying to make a point. And in the grand scheme of things, Shinigami also kill relatively infrequently, meaning that any odd death gets passed off as that: an odd death. Also being forbidden to kill for the sake of a human being means that the deaths tend to be a) random b) whatever amuses them the most. That'd be hard to pick a pattern up of.

Shinigami exist in such a manner that I doubt even the Volturi are aware of them.

Some Ground Rules For the Post

I don't see why vampires would have an innate ability to see Shinigami that humans lack. As a result, the Volturi are in the same boat everyone else is, they can't see a Shinigami unless they touch that Shinigami's notebook.

Also, per the manga, the Kira case takes place from 2003-2010, meaning that as Twilight is happening (or before if Aro and the gang somehow solve this faster than L would), the world is mired in the Kira case.

Bella would certainly have been talking about it in Twilight. As would Edward, as he once had his Kira foray as well if on a much smaller scale and with a lot more junkies.

For the sake of my nitpicky need to have everything line up, we're going to push Death Note back a few years, to the beginning of Twilight.

Also, we're taking out L. If L's there, Aro can rely on him doing most of the work for him and only show up at the end to either murder or turn Light once L's narrowed down exactly who it is. That's not really fair per the ask, we have to leave the Volturi on their own.

With that, let's start.

Kira Makes His Appearance

Light's appearance was by no means subtle, he wanted to be noticed immediately, but he also didn't want to be noticed as a human being.

He made no televised announcements, left no messages, sent in no letters saying, "I am God, tremble before me". Instead, he let his silence speak.

He killed via heart attacks those he considered having broken the law to some heinous degree and then he sat back and watch. The public dubbed him Kira first and he only became a confirmed presence, something more real than a specter and a human who could be caught and brought to justice, when he murdered Lind L. Taylor in a public spectacle.

But this is a world without L, which means no Lind L. Taylor, instead we have Volturi and company in Volterra, utterly unconcerned with the human world.

Of course, they immediately notice once an undeniable pattern becomes clear. Human criminals are dying en masse of heart attacks, someone is making a message. The question is, to what end?

Aro wouldn't immediately think this is a human. This kind of power, this kind of gift, to be able to seemingly kill any person in the world at any time no matter the distance, is something too strong for a human. It would be unheard of to have this much power as a human.

Which means Aro believes he's looking for a vampire breaking the law.

The trouble is, it's only humans. The newborn wars are raging as always, every major coven he's ever heard of remains untouched, and there's been no noticeable uptick of deaths among the vampire population.

The only difference to them is that more of them are dangerously close to breaking the law, as crime rates are now plummeting as criminals live in terror of a spiteful god who might strike them down at any moment. This makes murders performed by vampires, in certain areas, far more noticeable.

(As Light is probably killing off known gang leaders, drug lords, etc. left and right, it's probably pandemonium in certain cities/countries. So vampires are probably alright in these places as I'm sure there's a lot of murder going on as survivors try to fill the power vacuum.)

Still, the Volturi have to put their heads together and try to think why any vampire would do this? To what end would they murder all these humans, in such a noticeable manner, and not even to eat their victims?

Aro concludes he's looking for a very young vampire, likely newborn, someone who still thinks of himself as very human and beholden to human society and who isn't aware of Volterra or else does not consider them a threat.

The Volturi Investigators

I think Aro's going to take the lead on this one. There's his gift, obviously, but he'd by far have the most interest.

Caius would be upset by the nerve of Kira, but he has no patience to track him down either when it becomes exceedingly obvious that this is going to be tricky. That, and it just doesn't seem like his thing to me. He's going to mostly sit this one out.

As for Marcus, he's not up to it.

Which makes Aro our lead detective.

The Investigation

Like L, the first thing they do is try to pinpoint the first deaths. There was the immediate deluge, of course, but that screams of confidence in this assassination gift.

Kira likely needed practice to perfect his gift or even realize he had it at all. There's going to be a first victim and it will probably be messy.

Given enough investigation, this probably leads Aro to Japan, where a man taking children hostage suddenly dies in the middle of the hostage situation when televised on national TV (though not outside of Japan). Given that Kira's a vampire, he could have moved from where he started quite easily, but Aro's willing to bet he's still somewhere in Japan.

What Aro does know is that Kira's keeping close to human society. Kira will be reading human papers, watching human television constantly, and appears to be very well-informed concerning his future victims. Both locally as well as internationally. Kira is likely still in a human settlement.

So, the first thing Aro does is look for an unusual number of casualties in any city or town in Japan. Kira will probably be in the newborn phase, may truly be only a few months old, and given his actions has probably been abandoned by his sire. Even if he has unusually high control, he's got to eat sometime, and thanks to his own actions the murder rate in major cities is way down.

Except... there's no uptick.

Crime, murder, in Japan is universally on a downwards trend. Major cities like Tokyo and small rural villages it's all the same, there's nothing noticeable.

Kira either isn't in Japan or... he's not eating.

Aro wonders if, perhaps this assassination gift of his, somehow feeds Kira. He is, after all, stealing life. He does it via heart attacks but maybe, somehow, the very act of stealing life is all Kira needs. Perhaps he doesn't have to drink blood due to this.

This blows Aro's mind for a few days but eventually he decides that, no, he's never heard of this. True, he's never heard of this gift either, but all vampires drink blood. Even Carlisle, who drinks animal blood, still drinks blood and suffers great negative effects for his avoidance of a natural diet.

Kira the vampire must still eat.

Which means, in the absence of any other explanation... Kira's not a vampire. Kira is likely a very gifted human.

Aro's mind is blown again because Holy Fuck, what a gift. Kira has blown Jane and Alec, who were only immediately noticeable in their own village, completely out of the water.

Except, the trouble is, neither Aro nor anyone else in the Volturi is a detective. Aro knows enough about human society to pay his taxes, to hire secretaries, and keep on the up and up, but he doesn't actually solve human crimes.

What he's looked for for thousands of years are vampires who break the law: and they have certain patterns, motivations, etc. that are more or less easy to spot. More, the entire point of his law is that, if Aro notices then it means you broke it. There are those that can and do fly under his radar.

How is he supposed to find a gifted human who can kill anyone in the world any time he pleases? From a brief perusal of Japanese news, there's no one immediately obvious as gifted or strange by local papers.

From earlier killings, Aro notes that Kira doesn't seem to kill between 8 in the morning to 4 pm, which might make him a student but also could mean he's working those hours.

And even if he is a student? How in the world is Aro supposed to touch the hand of every student in the entire country of Japan? Aro, who makes it a point not to navigate the human world.

Aro Calls in the Expert

When you want to hang out with the humans, there's only one vampire to call: Carlisle Cullen. As we're setting this in early Twilight, neither Eclipse nor Breaking Dawn have happened. To the Cullens, and Carlisle, Aro is simply a wise king and Carlisle's old friend.

And I'm sure Carlisle has been watching the Kira case very closely and is very disturbed by the entire thing. Kira's methods are very much not Carlisle's m.o.

Aro gives Carlisle what he knows: Kira's probably a gifted human, probably somewhere in Japan, probably in school, and has access to an extensive amount of human media.

That's it.

That's all Aro's got.

As for the police at large, without L, they haven't even narrowed it down to Japan yet.

Carlisle points out that, as much as he hangs out with humans, he doesn't think he could find the needle in the haystack either. However, he definitely wants to help in any way he can.

However, they do have something. Aro can't touch the hand of everyone in Japan, however, Edward can unobtrusively listen to a much larger segment of the population.

(Alice is off the table as she's best able to see the future of those close to her. Without knowing who Kira even is, let alone being close to him, she has no idea what he's going to even do next. She's likely very frustrated by this.)

Surely, whoever Kira is, he or she will be contemplating their victims more often than not. It's a long shot, but Edward might be able to find that needle in a haystack.

How's Edward Feel About That?

Edward's extremely conflicted. On the one hand, he doesn't want to disappoint Carlisle, and this is the first time Carlisle has ever asked him for a favor of this magnitude. And, in theory, Carlisle is right, all creatures are worthy of life.

On the other hand, Edward's on Team Kira. He thinks these rapist, murderer, pigs all deserve to die and is rooting for Kira to put the fear of God into them. Emphasizing this is when Bella was nearly raped in Port Angeles, but her would be rapist suddenly remembered himself and vomited in terror at the idea that he might be next should he get caught raping her. (As it is, Edward catches him, and a few weeks later he dies of a heart attack in prison. Edward pops the champagne).

More, if Edward goes to Japan, it means he has to leave Bella. Bella has proven she cannot survive without his personal protection. More, he's not sure he can survive without her presence. He can hardly contemplate the idea of leaving Bella, though he ultimately must, but to do so soon? He though he'd have a few more years, likely until they graduate, but now he and the family would have to move all the way to Japan in a matter of days.

Not to mention this would be letting Aro know that Edward's... not technically breaking the law but not not breaking the law either. Bella clearly suspects he's not human, she just doesn't have the right word.

And then to give Kira up to the Volturi? To have his activities stopped, to be turned and placed into the guard, or else murdered? Edward feels like he'd be selling out the brother he never knew.

But also Carlisle and imagining Carlisle's sad, disappointed, face.

Edward says yes but he really wants to say no.

He sneaks into Bella's room in the middle of the night, and for the first time, makes her aware of his presence. He tells her that regretfully he must leave her, he's off to do a man's work and catch Kira, and that they will never see each other again.

Then to Edward's horror and disappointment, Bella's completely on board for Edward catching Kira and thinks it's the noblest thing he could do. Charlie, being a chief of police, utterly despises Kira and Bella carries forward this sentiment. People deserve the due process of law, not being murdered off by some jackass conning people into believing he's a god.

Bella wishes him luck and tells him to return as soon as he can.

Edward just numbly says he won't be returning. This really is it. Goodbye forever.

Bella's utterly broken (though not nearly as much as canon as Edward didn't dump her for being boring).

Edward in Japan

Well, turns out, Edward's not actually that useful. There's a few problems.

First, there are a lot of people out there claiming to be Kira, or even convincing themselves that they're Kira. They do this to brag, to feel special, for any number of reasons.

None of them are Kira.

Second, Edward can only go out on cloudy days or at night, this severely limits when he can wander the streets and the people he'll run into. More, even if he starts with Tokyo, Tokyo's a big place. That's a lot of wandering to do.

Third, say that Edward does come across Light Yagami. Edward immediately dismisses him as being utterly insane. See, Light Yagami is talking to his imaginary friend, Ryuk, bickering about which apples they should buy from the store. Edward sees the giant clown demon that Light believes only he can see and goes, "Ah, another lunatic, cheerio."

Edward does not find Kira.

The Investigation Continues

Aro likely keeps Edward at it for months. It doesn't matter how long it takes, they're going to track down Kira and they're going to find him. It might take years, but dammit, they'll find him. Edward despairs that he will ever be able to go back to normal life.

Luckily for the gang, Bella saves their bacon.

Bella, ruminating on Edward's mission and on Kira, starts doing her own internet investigation. She doesn't get very far, but she does have those prophetic dreams to help her out.

Bella has a seriously weird dream about the moon, night gods, Kira, demons that look like giant crows, notebooks, and Light Yagami's face. Somehow, just as in canon with vampires, Bella's able to somehow put this together.

She calls up Edward (as they parted on more amiable terms, and so quickly, Edward did not yet disconnect his number) and tells him that Kira's name is Light Yagami, he's attending the University of Tokyo as the top student, and his murder weapon is an evil notebook.

How does she know this?

She looked it up on the internet.

Well, Edward isn't sure how to take that, but he also has nothing to lose. They find Light Yagami, Aro shakes his hand, and holy shit, Bella Swan was right. (Aro now decrees that she will be turned, much to Edward's horror and insistence that she has no idea he's a vampire, and has plans to recruit her for his guard).

What Are We Going to Do About Light?

Well, on the one hand, Aro discovered a new species today that he can do nothing about. Luckily, they seem to have their own laws that have more or less the same result as the Volturi laws: don't get noticed.

On the other hand, he's disappointed that this all-powerful gift was not a gift at all.

On the other other hand, Light does not seem to be an ordinary human. He's... lucky, for lack of a better term. No, it's more that he doesn't need luck, he somehow has such an awareness of everything around him that he assimilates it perfectly into his own plans. As if he can manipulate the very universe to his favor.

That's intriguing and useful, and in any other situation, Aro would jump on taking that chance and at least seeing what happens.

So the question becomes, does Aro turn Light or not? On the one hand, that's a useful gift, on the other hand, this kid's a loose cannon and a lunatic.

This Kira thing cannot continue, and Light, even as a vampire, would likely insist on continuing it somehow.

Luckily, there's a solution to this.

Aro burns the notebook, much to Ryuk's protesting despair. Light loses his memories of Ryuk, the notebook, and having been Kira. Before Light even knows what's happening, Aro turns him.

Three days later, Light wakes up a very confused vampire, gets the Volturi pitch with Chelsea there to help loosen bonds, and accepts a position in the guard to, oddly enough, stop those like Kira.

Aro's confused, but hey, they'll see how this Light thing works out. Aro also likely tells himself that he will watch for Ryuk trying to drop Light another notebook like a hawk.

The Kira case is never solved for humans: Kira just disappears one day as if he never existed. As for Light, I imagine he plots the destruction of the newborn armies, and Caius watches in utter fascination as this kid ruthlessly exterminates them all.

Bella is shortly turned into a vampire, much to Edward's despair, and due to the giant mess of this is also likely recruited to Volterra.

How Long Does This Take?

Given the need for the Volturi to first investigate, then Edward, I give them at least a year. Maybe a year and a half.

And really, it's Bella who saves their bacon.

#twilight #death note #twilight meta #death note meta #twilight headcanon #death note headcanon #light yagami #ryuk #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #aro #caius #the volturi #bella swan #meta #headcanon #opinion

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astranva · 3 years

Text

Golden (Behind the Scenes)

Word Count: 1.2k

Category: Fluff

Warning: absolutely nothing except if you hate fluff because this is so cute

Summary: Y/N and Harry’s relationship in the Golden’s BTS video.

** tumblr is really out here not showing any of my writings under any tag but here i am lmao

There were days when basking in the sun was all you wanted to do; away from all the paperwork, from the chattering noises of gossiping colleagues, from the screens that gave you headaches and had your back aching for days.

There were days when you could do exactly that, like the days you accompanied Harry as he filmed his Golden music video.

Being a muse behind the very song, Harry was extra gleeful when you confirmed that you were joining him after having had used your sick days for that purpose.

You knew that Italy had a special place in not only your heart, but Harry’s, too. It was where the both of you travelled to for the first time together. In fact, it was where you met.

It was a mutual friend’s wedding, both the bride and groom gathering the bridesmaids and groomsmen in a little getaway in Italy, and you and the, then, 23-year-old man seemed to click so much that by the end of the 2-week trip in the Amalfi Coast, you had shared not only phone digits, but soft kisses and unforgettable memories, too.

And for his music video, it was only fitting that he films it where it all started.

“Thank you for coming,” Harry mumbled between kisses to your cheek as you stood with your arms crossed beside the crew, watching as they discussed some shots. His arms were around your shoulders, head leaning against yours as his lips peppered kisses to your skin, “It would’ve sucked without you.”

“You credit me too much,” you smiled, looking up at him and reaching up to place your hand on his cheek, squinting slightly as the sun shone right above you, “You would’ve killed it with or without me.”

Harry feigned a frown, shaking his head to remove your hand childishly, “Lies, and you know it.”

“Stop shaking your head, you baby,” you frowned at him, turning in his arms before reaching up and twiddling a locket of his hair around your finger to curl it like it used to, “Your curls won’t be defined if you keep doing that.”

Oblivious to the camera recording, you stood twiddling Harry’s hair as he closed his eyes with a smile on his face.

But you had your camera with you, too.

Looking down at Harry as he took cautious steps on the rocky ground in his blue swimming trunks, you held your analog videorecorder to your eye, “H!”

Harry looked at you through squinted eyes, putting his hands over his eyes to block the sun, “I’m going to jump!” Harry excitedly said, pointing at the water behind him, “Watch me, love!”

You held your camera then when Harry had just changed, recording him as he was putting on his black mask, “Wait, let us see that face!” You teased, hearing people around you chuckle as Harry lowered the mask, bashfully smiling at the ground as he approached you.

Your camera was rolling as Harry stood, looking to the side.

“Looking gooood, Styles!” You filmed him, watching as he giggled and looked at you, “And these shoes. Yes for me.” You zoomed on the shoes before going up to his face.

“Stop, you’re making me blush.” Harry smiled bashfully, turning his back at you and walking away. You didn’t record him when he turned back around and ran to you, smacking his lips against lips before running back away.

You filmed him as he sat at the back of the golf cart, “You look like a princess.”

Hearing your comment, Harry dramatically crossed his leg over the other, placing his hand on his waist as the cart was driven further into your shot.

When he was seated in the vintage car, you stood back, holding your camera up, “Baby, look at me.”

Harry turned his head back to look at you, wiggling his eyebrows jokingly at the camera in your hands.

For another car shot, you were standing to the side. You didn’t need to call for him, because his eyes moved across people, searching for you before they landed on your figure and he beamed.

“Can’t you join me on the boat?” He had asked for the millionth time before he got on the boat.

“Told you, baby. I want to watch from here. We can have one for ourselves when you’re not working.”

It was your little assurance that had him grinning up at you from the boat as you filmed him, giggling like a child as it moved.

Your favorite bit had to be when he was lying on the lounge chair in an oversized burgundy shirt and matching wide pants, a hat on his head.

“We’re back in the medieval times with Mr. Harry Styles,” you said as you filmed him, “Here he is, with his tea.”

“Hey, look-watch this,” he giggled, picking up his saucer and teacup before taking a sip, sticking his pinky out as you zoomed in on his face, “Since you call me princess and all.”

“The prettiest princess.” You swooned before putting down your camera.

You probably filmed Harry jumping into the water too many times, but how couldn’t you when he looked like that?

During the last day of shooting, and right as everyone was wrapping up, you sat in the car waiting for Harry with sleepy eyes and a tired body after all that you had done that day, and every day of filming.

“Ciao ragazze!” You heard Harry shout, screams outside getting louder before the door was opened and Harry got inside, waving to someone outside, “Ciao.”

You smiled at the interaction, stomach full of butterflies at the sight of him and at the reminder of the cuddles you were going to get in a short time.

“Are you tired, baby?” Harry asked softly, turning to look at you and opening his arms so you could scoot and cuddle against him. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Harry wrapped his arms tightly around you, “You tired, love?” He had whispered, grazing your forehead with his lips, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You said just as softly, cuddling closer against him, finally closing your eyes.

It was after Golden was premiered that everyone suggested your videos to be added to the Golden (Behind the Scenes) video, and while you held on to a few very personal footages, Harry was beaming with pride as he watched the bits you shot get added.

“My girlfriend shot that.” He’d point out as he watched the video throughout its editing process. “Did you hear that giggle? That’s my girlfriend’s.”

It was why footages of you were added; twiddling Harry’s hair, beaming at the cameraman as you sat on Harry’s shoulders while the both of you went for a dip, holding your analog camera as you stood in Harry’s cream oversized shirt with the burgundy hat on your head, the camera moving from Harry shaking his shoulders and dancing in his light blue blazer to you mirroring his moves before going back to Harry whose eyes fell on you and broke into a laugh, the short conversation you had in the car as you were sleepy, though you weren’t seen.

But the fans knew it was you, and they knew that there couldn’t be a better ending for the video;

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Invisible Pain

MAIN MASTERLIST

Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 3,050ish

Summary: You haven’t told the team something important about you out of fear of what they’d think.

Notes: This is based on me in my life. This is a very personal one shot for me, so please be kind.

Illnesses take on many shapes and forms. There are those that are physical and those that are mental. Some are clearly visible, some are not. You were in the category of physical, but not visible.

You were 17 years old when you were diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, in every joint of your body. This meant that you had pain in every joint, that would only get worse with time. Your arthritis was the worst in your shoulders making backpacks, lifting, and even getting dressed the extremely difficult some days.

Like any other illness, you had your good days and your bad days. You and your doctors were still trying to figure out how to help you, nothing seemed to work well or for very long. But you continued on, cause that’s what you had to do. Especially because your job very rarely left you have a bad day.

How you became an Avenger is really quite unknown and confusing to you. But here you were, on the world’s greatest team of heroes, saving the day from anything and everything, almost everyday. No one on the team, but Fury, knew about your arthritis. Even your best friend, Tony, didn’t know.

You didn’t want them to see you any different or take pity on you, or compare you to old people (which happened way too much when you were first diagnosed). Then there was the chance that they wouldn’t believe you, which happened too often as well. Because people couldn’t see you were in pain and you did a good job at hiding it, so how bad could it really be?

Most days, you just fought through the pain, pushing yourself harder than you knew you probably should. But you had too. It was your job.

You woke up one morning, immediately knowing it was going to be one of those very terrible, bad days. It a been a few years since a day like this, so this one came as a little bit of a shock. Just breathing seemed to take a lot of your energy and tears built up as you tried to move your arms.

“Agent L/N,” FRIDAY called, “it seems that your heart rate is elevated, would you like me to fetch someone for you?”

“No, FRIDAY,” you responded. “I’m good.”

You didn’t want to let anyone see you like this. Weak, fragile. Or the chance of them not believing you after a while. You just didn’t want to go through that again. After pushing yourself through the pain to sit up, you reach over and turned on your shoulder heating pad, resting it on both your shoulders. Everything was screaming at you for every little movement. So you tried to not take too deep of breaths or move at all, leaning against the headboard with your eyes closed, focused on the heating pad, slowly heating up.

“Hey, Y/N!” Tony exclaimed, knocking on your door. “You in there? Breakfast is ready and we have a mission briefing in ten.”

Crap. You had forgotten about the mission briefing.

“Thanks for the reminder, Tony!” You replied. “I’m not feeling like breakfast today, but I’ll meet you in there for the briefing!”

“I’ll save you a seat!”

Hearing his footsteps leave, you sighed. Did you need breakfast? Yes, especially if you were going to take some pain killers. But did you have the strength to get there? Not a chance. Clenching your eyes shut to prepare yourself for the fire of your joints, you moved over to the edge of the bed. Looking down at your attire, you knew you should change but there was no way you were going to be able to take off the shirt and put another on.

Biting your bottom lip, you slowly stood up. Waiting there a bit to balance yourself before taking that painful first step. Today, your right hip was worse than your left, though they both still hurt like hell, so you were limping towards the door.

The stares you were getting as you limped down the hall just confirmed your thoughts. You looked as trashy as you thought you did. By the time you reached the briefing, Steve and Maria Hill had already started. Thankfully, Tony had sat in back, saving you a seat.

“Agent L/N,” the Captain said, making your presence known to everyone. You could feel all their eyes. “Nice of you to finally join us.”

You gave more of a grimace than a smile before he started the briefing back up again. All the others turned their focus back onto the front but Tony. He was watching you with worried eyes. You let out a quiet groan as you sat beside your best friend.

“Y/N,” he leaned over with a whisper, “are you okay?”

“Fine,” you breathed out, eyes clenched shut.

“You should have said something, I could have covered for you.”

“I’m fine, Tony. Really. It will pass.”

He was unconvinced but decided not to continue bugging you about it through the meeting. You had tried your best to focus on what people were presenting, but it was extremely hard when everything was on fire.

“Agent L/N,” Steve continued through the assignments, “will go into the base and retrieve the information needed.” He looked you dead in the eyes. “Are you up for it?”

“Of course, sir,” you responded, trying not to sound so strained.

“Okay, then I think we’re all set here. Everyone meet at the jet in an hour.”

Everyone began disbursing, but you couldn’t move. Once everyone was gone, Tony turned his chair to face you. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together.

“Y/N, don’t try to lie,” he began, “I know you better than anyone. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. It will pass. I just need some pain meds.”

You slowly and shakily began to rise from the chair, using the chair and the table in front of you as leverage. Tony stood with you, quickly placing a hand on your hand to help steady you. You winced at the touch, the pain from your joints radiating everywhere.

“Seriously, honey,” Tony worried, “you aren’t fine.”

“I’ll be fine,” you swatted him away, instantly regretting it because of the pain though. “I’ll be back to normal by the time the quinjet touches the ground.”

~~~

The pains meds had failed, mostly because you had failed to hear where the base you were heading to was located. Cold weather made your arthritis worse. So having a mission in the North Pole was not helping the flare up you were currently experiencing.

It had taken you almost the whole hour you had to prep to change. And now, you were about to land, and you were failing to put your coat on.

“Here,” Tony offered, grabbing the coat and holding it behind you. “Let me help.”

“Thanks,” you responded quietly, slowly slipping in one arm then the next.

Tony hurried around to your front and zipped you up. He then grabbed your gloves and carefully pulled them onto your hands.

“You know,” Tony said, grabbing your beanie, “I could help you if you stopped lying to me.” He pulled the beanie onto your head and fixed your hair. “And I really want to help.”

“I’m fine, Tony,” you replied.

“You know that’s the biggest lie, right?”

“I learned it from you.”

He sighed. “Just be safe in there, okay? You’re going in alone and you’re clearly not fine.”

“Tony…”

“I’ll be in there as soon as you call. Okay? I don’t care.”

You gave him a small smile. “Okay.”

He placed a gently kiss to your cheek before his suit form over him and he was called out, with you not far behind. The cold wind against you made your joints feel like thousands of tiny needles, even though you were bundled up. You were trying so hard not to cry, yet one tears escaped and froze as it ran down her face.

“We’re all in place, Y/N,” Steve called over the comms. “Get in there and get the information, we’ll keep everything clear.”

“Copy that,” you responded.

You knew you needed to rush this, but you could barely walk the speed you were going, which wasn’t that fast. Inside the bunker wasn’t much better. It was a small bunker separated from the main base. It was a single hallway, with four labeled doors on each side. You were incredibly grateful when you realized the main control room was one of the first doors. Opening the door, you counted two heads. You slipped out your gun and shot them both, letting out a small whimper each time with the kickback.

“Y/N, was that you?” Tony quickly fretted over the comms. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Tony,” you replied, limping further into the room. “Cap, I’m in.”

“Good job, L/N,” Steve responded. “They’re rushing out of the main base, so hurry.”

You nodded, knowing they couldn’t see you and went over to the computer. Your wrist and fingers screamed as you tried to type as fast as you could, but you pushed through. Even when your watch was screaming at you to slow down cause your heart rate was escalating. Unfortunately for you, your watch was connected to FRIDAY, informing Tony of your condition.

“Y/N, sweetheart, talk to me,” Tony called.

“I’m… fine…” you panted, trying to focus.”

“That’s not what FRIDAY’s saying. What’s going on in there? Are you being attacked?”

“I’m… almost done…” you pushed through the pain to press send. It quickly sent to FRIDAY and you erased the main frame. “Done.”

“Good job, L/N,” Steve said. “Now, meet us back at the quinjet. Quick.”

You turned, getting dizzy. Taking a few unsteady steps, you knew you wouldn’t be making it out of there on your own.

“Tony,” you called weakly, “help.”

“I’m on my way, honey,” he immediately responded. “Don’t move.”

Suddenly, the doors slammed open and HYDRA agents stormed in, giving you no other option but to fight. Crying out in pain with every move you made, you fought off the agents as best you could. But it wasn’t enough. An agent snuck up behind you, grasping your shoulder and pulled you around. You cried out, letting the tears finally free fall down your face. Tony finally entered, shooting down the agent holding onto you. You feel to your knees, trying to curl in on yourself. Once Tony had stopped all the HYDRA agents, his helmet folded into his suit as he came to your side.

“Y/N? Are you hurt?” He worried, checking you over. You sucked in a breath as you nodded. “Where?”

“Everywhere…”

“I’m going to pick you up and fly you out, okay?”

All you out do was give a small nod. You groaned as Tony picked you up. Flying out to the quinjet, Tony tried his best to hold you as steady as he could. Sadly, his touch wasn’t helping at all. The landing jostled you, causing a small cry to escape your mouth.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, rushing up with the rest of the team.

“I don’t know,” Tony answered, laying you down on the cot.

“Barton, get us in the air.”

“On it,” Clint replied, rushing to the pilot’s seat.

Tony’s suit disappeared from around him as he knelt next to you. Bruce and Natasha began to work together to hook you up to machine and get an IV in you. You whined with each touch, worrying your teammates.

“Y/N,” Tony said softly, “what’s going on?”

“I’m… sorry,” you cried quietly. “I’m so sorry…”

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I… I have…” But you weren’t able to finish, losing consciousness due to the medication Bruce had quickly gotten into you.

“FRIDAY, pull up Y/N’s medical history now,” Bruce requested.

“My apologies, Dr. Banner,” FRIDAY responded. “But it seems that Agent L/N’s medical history has a restricted access.”

“By who?” Tony asked.

“Director Fury. Only him and Y/N can access the files.”

“Get Fury on the line. Now.”

The team waited anxiously for Fury’s voice to come over the quinjet, but nothing.

“Director Fury has requested that I tell you that he will meet you back at the compound,” FRIDAY finally said.

“He damn better,” Tony growled.

~~~

“Rheumatoid arthritis?” Many of the team members repeated after Fury had told them about your condition.

The team was in the common room, while you had been tucked into your bed for some much needed rest. Fury was standing in front of them, stoic as ever.

“Since when?” Tony asked. He was beginning to grow angry at you for keeping such a secret.

“Since before I knew her,” Fury answered. “Y/N was diagnosed at age 17.”

“You can get arthritis that young?” Steve questioned.

“It’s not that common,” Bruce answered, “but it happens.”

“Why hide it?” Nat asked.

“Now that is a question Y/N must answer,” Fury replied. “I’ve already said too much. Right now though, Y/N needs some serious rest and not a lot of stress.”

Tony clenched his jaw and stood up, marching out of the room.

“What’s up with him?” Steve asked.

“Seriously, Steve?” Natasha questioned. “He’s in love with her. He’s mad he didn’t know sooner.”

“He’s in love with her? Are you sure? I’m pretty sure they’re just… best… friends… okay, yeah, I’m old.”

~~~

Tony was mad at you, no question about it. You two supposedly told each other everything, then this happened. Though his wasn’t happy with you, he was still very concerned. Locking himself away in his lab, Tony studied everything there was to know about rheumatoid arthritis. He absolutely hated feeling this helpless, especially when it came to you. Tony didn’t want to feel that way again.

You slept until well into the night. Slowly waking up, the pain was definitely still there, but more bearable. With your eyes not fully open, you looked around your room. You were surprised yet a little relieved to see that you were alone. Pushing yourself to sit up, you let out a small groan and a long breath. The mission definitely didn’t go as you had planned, and you were embarrassed because of it.

With a deep breath, you slowly moved over to the edge of the bed. As you pushed yourself off to head to the bathroom, your bedroom door opened.

“What are you doing?” Tony fretted, hurrying to you. “You should be in bed still.”

“I need to pee,” you replied, sleepily, with your eyes squinting because of the light streaming in from the hallway.

“Then call for help next time.”

“I’m not injured, Tony. I can walk.”

“But you—“

“Need to be able to pee on my own. Wait out here if you want to but I don’t need help.”

You slowly went to your connecting bathroom, sighing as you sat on the toilet. When you were done with your business, you walked out to see that Tony had shut the door and was now staring out your window. You walked to your bed, the tension slowly building.

“Tony—“

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He was quiet and hurt, which hurt you. “I thought we told each other everything.”

“I just… I’m sorry, Tony. I really am.”

When he turned to face you, the look on his face broke your heart. It was hurt, loud and clear, shining through his eyes. Tears slowly began building up in yours.

“I—“ your voice broke slightly. You took a deep, shaky breath. “There’s just so many sides to this… so many sides people can react to finding out… they believe me and worry too much, believing that just by breathing I could break. There’s those who don’t believe me at all and those who spend every waking second comparing me to their grandparents… and then there’s those who don’t believe… but that’s not even the worst one…. The worst one is those that believe but slowly think I’m overreacting. That I can just push through, like I don’t do that every freakin’ day already.” You let a tear slip out of your eye. “Like I don’t feel pain every damn day… when I complain, when I say it’s too much, I mean it’s too damn much… but people still don’t believe that I’m trying my best… that’s why I didn’t say anything. I was terrified about what people would think… about what you would think…”

Tony didn’t quickly move. He stood there, staring, while his mind was clearly turning. You closed your eyes, turning away from Tony. Your throat began to tighten, emotions building. Tony’s footsteps were heard, and you swore they were heading towards the door. So it surprised you when you felt a dip in your bed and a gently hand under your chin. Tony guided your head to face him as your eyes slowly opened, glistening with tears.

“It hurts that you kept this from me. It does,” he started. “But it doesn’t hurt as much as knowing that you’ve been hurt so many times because people didn’t believe you. That you’ve been pushing your body to the absolute limit to protect yourself.” He moved his hand onto your cheek, catching the tears from your cheeks. “You didn’t have to protect yourself from me, honey, cause all I want to do is protect you… I believed you were the strongest woman before this, and now I know it. You can depend on me, Y/N. I will be there when ever you need help, or when you believe you can do it on your own. But you don’t have to, cause I want to be there… I… I love you.”

“Even knowing the truth?”

“Honey, that only made me love you more.”

You quickly put your lips on his. He willingly welcomed it. When you separated, Tony rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you, too,” you breathed out.

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Now, I’ve researched everything there is to know about RA and I think—“

You shook your head. “Okay, mama bear, do you think we could get some sleep and talk more about it in the morning?”

“Yes, dear.”

Part 2

Again, this is a very personal story with very many real elements of my life in it. Except that I’ve never had a boyfriend. I scare many potential boyfriends away due to my arthritis and other health problems.

Please be understanding to those will unseen, chronic issues. They push themselves harder then they have to. I would know, I do it every day.

Not everyone experiences Rheumatoid Arthritis the way I do, keep that in mind.

#tony stark x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark #Iron Man #iron man x reader #iron man imagine #avengers imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #Avengers

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spenciegoob · 3 years

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Swing to the Stars

this fic swap is for @reidgraygubler ... I really hope you like it, shadow :)

A/N: AAAAH! this is my first fic swap and I’M SO EXCITED!!!!

Summary: Spencer meets someone in his little hiding spot, and desperately hopes to see them again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral!Reader

Category: fluff with a dash of angst

Content Warnings: mentions of Maeve & William Reid, talk of a case involving teens, mentions of bullying, mentions of guns and pepper spray (not used)

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

___

The first time I climbed that treacherous hill, dirtying my converse for all to see what my night activities truly consisted of, I was alone. I enjoyed it like that, I came here by myself, and I intended to keep it that way. When I sat on the swing dangling by two dangerously flimsy ropes, I thought how ridiculously large the slap of wood used to make it was. My elbows were bent a little over a 90 degree angle just to reach both sides, but I never thought past it. I had other things on my mind that night.

I thought about my mom. I knew she would have loved a secluded, little space like this. She would’ve probably read to me here, using different voices that held deep emotion to convey each story with a precise amount of dedication and love. Each story to her was special, and I silently thank her every day for passing that trait down to me.

Unfortunately, if I thought about my mom, I thought about my dad. William was never a kind man, and I could pride myself on one thing; I would never be like him. He didn’t deserve to know a place like this. It was too serene, too beautiful to house a man so willing to abandon the two people who should’ve been the most important to him. I was glad he would never get the chance to sit on this swing.

I thought about my family. How Garcia would jump with excitement at the prospect of having a picnic overlooking the city, yet quiet and missing the sounds of cars zooming by or overlapping chatter. I thought about JJ, and how Henry would beg her to push him in the swing, because to a little kid, it was perfect. He didn’t look at the frayed rope and fear that it would snap. I hope he never starts to fear the world like that.

The second time I found myself back at the bottom of the hill, I made it halfway to the top before seeing a couple getting up from the swing they were sitting together on. I realized then why it was so comically large; it was meant for two people. Thankfully when I reached the top only half out of breath, the two were starting their descent to where I came from.

This time when I sat down, I thought about Maeve. I would’ve brought her here, shared the little secret corner of the world I built for myself. She would’ve loved something like this, and I know if life wasn’t so cruel, and I was given the chance to show her, we would’ve talked for hours. So that’s what I did that time; I talked to Maeve. To anyone else, I probably looked like a crazy person talking to himself, but much to my delight, not many people made the trip up the hill to find this place.

Now I go whenever I need a break from my mind, which unfortunately is more times than my schedule allows me to take that leisurely walk. I spend my nights sometimes after a particularly hard case there no matter the time, using the ropes that scratch my hands as my lifeline down to Earth. I watch the stars, screaming and cursing at the world in my head and waiting for the sky to respond. It never did, and the next case always came in the following morning.

This particular time that I found myself at the bottom of the grassy hill waiting to be climbed, the case I just returned from involved kids across the board. A teenage unsub was killing his fellow classmates that have wronged him. Unfortunately, the BAU had to witness his stressor recorded for the whole school to see. It involved vile insults being thrown at the young, defenseless boy only for the bullying to escalate to violence.

It was awful.

As I trudged up the hill with less excitement to look into the vast unknown than usual, I couldn’t stop thinking about the unsub. All he wanted in life was a friend, someone to talk to, laugh with, share memories together. No matter how wrong it was, I saw myself in him. Our souls held the same scars given to us by people who had no right to go digging for such a deep part of ourselves. If I didn’t make it, would I have turned out like him?

When I reached the top, completing my journey once again, I saw them. Sitting there, staring out into the sky, mimicking my thoughts to do the same on the jet ride home. I could only make out half their face lit up by the light casting down from the full moon, but I didn’t need to see more to know they were breathtaking.

I would have turned around to return home to nothing more than books reread thousands of times and stale coffee, but I already made the mistake of stepping on a rather large branch that broke in half. The crunch coming from their right immediately had them on edge, and reaching for their bag that I could only assume had some sort of weapon inside. I hope it was legal.

I felt terrible for breaking them from the trance they were in. They were deep in thought about something that was probably going to become a solution if I hadn't interrupted their musing.

“H-hi, I’m sorry to scare you. I didn’t expect anyone here this late. Not that you being here is a problem! I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I frantically shouted, although there was less distance between us than I originally thought, and probably seemed crazed by my volume level.

They just giggled at first, but upon seeing my distraught expression, their face turned more kind than humorous.

“That’s okay. I’m just glad I didn’t jump so fast to pepper spray you. That would definitely be the worst case scenario.” I let out a breath of relief for some reason. Here I was, in front of a total stranger thankful that their weapon of choice wasn’t a gun. I’ve been on the wrong end of too many during my years.

“Did you know Chemical Mace, more commonly known as pepper spray, was invented in the 1960s by a man named Alan Lee Litman and his wife Doris Litman at the time. Their reason was actually because one of Doris’s female coworkers was attacked and robbed, so they thought to create a nonlethal weapon with easy accessibility and use, considering not everyone is able to use a gun. It wasn’t until 1987 however that the Litman’s sold their creation to Smith and Wesson where it was mass produced and later sold to law enforcement.”

“Wow, I don’t think I did.” They laughed again, but something in my heart told me it wasn’t meant to come with malicious intent. “Do you do that a lot?”

“Do what?” I asked, even though I had some inclination of what they were referencing.

“Spout random facts. I’m not complaining, that was very cool, but I am fully intrigued.” They smiled again at me fondly, the kind of smile that left me a little breathless, even more so than the 45 degree incline I had to climb to find myself in front of them. There was nothing to convince me they weren’t authentic in every word they stated.

“I do it quite often, yes. It gets annoying after a while though.” It was true, I was told on many occasions that my rambling got old very fast. I suppose that’s what happens when you’re close to me for too long. I tend to stop being the awe-striking genius, and become the nagging, walking encyclopedia.

“I don’t see how that could become annoying.” It sounded sad coming from them, like I had insulted their oddity. I would never, and I was really hoping to find out what it was.

I had nothing further to say that would express my shock, and slight fondness over their praise, wary of its honesty even if it did come from them. I hadn’t known them for more than 4 minutes and 36 seconds, but it was enough to figure out that they weren’t a liar. It wasn’t from profiling either.

“You know, there is room for two people here if you wanted to join me. I’m sure you didn’t climb that hill for nothing.” They continued for me. If they noticed my surprise, they said nothing about it.

Usually, I would be skeptical of being in a close proximity with a stranger, but as I approached them carefully, even if their hand was no longer reaching for mace, I felt the passing between our eyes. It was as if we had shared every part of ourselves with eye contact, and as crazy as it sounds, I felt the somber thoughts that lingered from their previous reflections.

So I sat down, grabbing onto only one of the scratchy ropes, and enjoying the way I could rest my elbow against my side now that I was using the swing to its fullest potential. I stopped caring about the probability of the ropes snapping under our combined body weight. The worst that could possibly happen was I bruised my tailbone a little bit, but I wouldn’t care past the initial embarrassment. At least I had someone to show that with.

“Do you ever think about what’s out there?” They asked once I was settled on the wood slab as comfortably as I could muster. Being boney didn’t necessarily help. Before I could answer, they continued. “I can tell you’re a man of science, if the fact dump wasn’t any indicator, but I mean beyond the facts, and the known.”

“No, I don’t think about it.” It was a lie, I think about it every time I’m here, but I wanted nothing more in this moment than to know how they saw the stars.

“I do. Quite frequently, actually. I mean, I’ve read every book there ever was about the stars and space, but there is still no answer to my question.”

“What question?” I had to know.

“What’s exactly written in the stars,” they replied, using their hands to showcase the sky above us. I sat back and thought for a while. Like the books they’ve read, I too didn’t have the response to their question. God, how I wish I did.

I don’t know how long we sat there quietly. One of the perks of total darkness in the dead of night is that the moon couldn’t tell time the way the sun did. We got lost in the cosmos together, contemplating sharing our own troubled thoughts with each other. It would have felt right if we did, but alas, the ringing of my cell phone dropped a pin in our reflections.

“I- I’m sorry, I have to take this,” I rushed out before standing up and accepting the incoming call from Penelope. I knew it was a case before her bubbly voice rang through my celular. I allowed the disappointment to bleed through my tone when I told her I would be back at the BAU shortly, hoping that the small release of the emotion would be enough to ward it off in time to turn back around.

It didn’t.

They were already looking at me expectantly when I made my way back to the swing, bending down to retrieve my satchel I had abandoned on the ground. The amount of guilt on my face must have been enough to tell them I had to leave abruptly, despite the fact that the only thing I wanted to do was stay for even just a second.

“That’s okay,” they spoke softly, giving me a tight lipped smile. “We’ll see each other again.”

“How do you know?” I couldn’t help but be skeptical. Life never did work out in my favor. They looked up at the sky once more before answering.

“Just a feeling.” I let a full grin break out at their response, the first one I’ve had when visiting this place. I turned around to start my journey back to the office where dark, and twisted things lurked behind manilla folders. Before starting my descent however, I spun around quickly, almost losing my footing and taking a tumble.

“Woah there tiger, don’t hurt yourself,” they giggled at me, one that I returned with my own breathy laugh.

“I just don’t know your name.” It baffled me a little bit that I hadn’t thought to ask before this, but they just gave me one last smile, tilting their head in faux contemplation.

“Ask me next time.” I will.

***

It’s been a year since I met them, and I haven’t seen them since. Not for a lack of trying however. After that case, I went there every night until a new one arose, this time taking me to Oregon. They hadn’t been back, and part of me wondered if it was because of me. Did I not try hard enough the first time? Should I have ignored my ringer until my phone had 5 missed calls from Penelope?

But then my eidetic memory swooped in to save me from going down that road, one of the only times it wasn’t the cause of my self destructive thoughts. Because while I replayed the conversation over in my head wondering where it went wrong, I remembered their eyes, and their smile.

I remembered what it felt like to sit with them, and thankfully that was enough to convince myself our meeting wasn’t in vain.

I never was the kind of man to believe in the universe. The whole notion that “everything happens for a reason,” felt like a lie created to somehow blame an external force on the chaos in one’s life. There were so many things in my life that had no reason for happening, and to blame that on anything or anyone but myself would be a cheap excuse of a way out.

But for some odd reason, the universe aside, I believed in them, and strangely enough, I don’t think they would have blamed me for the life I had to live. So, as I sit down tonight on this familiar piece of wood, I choose to stare at the stars instead of the ground, and believe that if I spoke aloud, maybe they would hear me.

And they did, because my efforts to sit on one side of the swing in case they returned to me were not in vain. I didn’t look over, I didn’t have to to know it was them. I had already relaxed once their presence was known in my peripherals.

“Y/N,” they spoke, causing me to change my view on the stars to their side profile. It wasn’t all that different than staring at the constellations spread around us. “My name’s Y/N.”

___

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a-lockman5 · 3 years

Text

Things were different now Pt. 3 - Happy to Help {Devi and Paxton}

A/n: as usual, I don’t own these characters, but I love them. This continues to follow the timeline I initially wrote so it does not coincide with season 2 at all. Paxton is a 17 year old with feelings, not a 10 year old before puberty… I hate proofreading so if it’s awful, apologies. Umm… so sorry it’s a year late.. and honestly, I kinda hate parts of it, but here we are nonetheless. Hope you like it!

Warnings: fluff, angst, phobias, I think that’s it.

Part one, Part two

Don’t forget to check out my Masterlist!

“Hey, baby,” Ben greeted her in a sing-song voice.

“Morning, Ben,” Devi replied as Ben laid a kiss to her cheek, and took the seat next to her.

“Why didn’t you come by for breakfast this morning?” he asked.

Devi felt her eyes grow wide momentarily. She had been going to Ben’s for breakfast before school all last week, telling her mom they were studying. It wasn’t a formal date though, and she hadn’t thought to plan an excuse. “Uh…” she scrambled, feeling the room close in as people filled the desks behind and on her other side. “I’m not feeling well,” she lied. “I overslept.”

She averted her gaze from Ben to dig a pencil out of her backpack from where it sat on the floor to her right. When she tried to unzip her pencil holder though, it got stuck and she flung it, one-handed, onto the floor. As she reached down to grab it, the person sitting next to her reached down to help too, and when she looked up, Paxton was grinning back at her.

“Morning, Vishwakumar. Long time, no see.”

Devi tried to swallow past a large lump in her throat. “Morning, Paxton,” she returned hesitantly, noting his hair was still damp and that it added curl to his hair that usually he used product to tame.

Devi had her first swim lesson with Paxton that morning before school. It’s not that she was hiding it from Ben, her boyfriend. It was just that she didn’t feel ready to tell him about it… so yeah, she was hiding it from him. Not because of Paxton though! She was hiding it because of her.

Not even Devi’s mom knew how afraid she was of being in the water since her paralysis was triggered. Prior to that, she loved swimming. It was the only sport she was at all inclined to and she even considered trying out for team sophomore year until she went crazy and lost her legs.

She tried to move past it. Well, kind of. Her physical therapist thought aquatic therapy may help strengthen and facilitate the functional return of her legs. Instead, it resulted in her screaming and hyperventilating in Dan’s arms as he struggled to get her back to the lift out of the pool. Devi begged Dan not to tell her mom about her newfound fear and promised she would discuss it with Dr. Ryan. Her physical therapist agreed, and Devi never mentioned it to anyone again. Until Paxton.

“You want to swim?” He repeated back, puzzled as they sat on the couch in the garage. “I’ve seen you swim.”

“When?”

“Your freshman year…” he trailed off as realization dawned on him.

Devi didn’t know Paxton had any idea who she was until she propositioned him at the beginning of school this year. He remembered her from the year before? He remembered her before she lost her legs?

“Yeah… I haven’t been able to since…”

“So when you fell in the pool at Gross’s party…?” Paxton filled the silence for her.

“I’m really glad you pulled me out otherwise it would have gotten way more embarrassing,” she admitted.

She saw his jaw clench before his next question, “Why didn’t your friends help you?”

“Um…” she took a deep breath to muster the courage up to tell him, “they don’t know… nobody knows.”

And then he gave her that same deep, calculated look. The look he gave her when they were in his car so many weeks ago. The look he gave her before they kissed. Before he kissed her.

He agreed instantly after that. And things went mildly well that morning. She wasn’t able to get in the water, so instead, she sat next to the edge of the pool and watched Paxton swim for awhile and then they talked.

She was surprised by how patient Paxton had been with her especially since she dragged him out of bed earlier than necessary. He told her it was a process though, and he agreed to help her through it. Her heart felt full when he said that. She probably would have read too far into it in the past, but things were different now.

Devi knew she would have to tell Ben eventually that she was spending so much time with Paxton, but she just didn’t want him to overreact. He knew how much she had pined for Paxton before they started dating, and even though she and Paxton were friends only now, it wouldn’t change the threat he posed in her boyfriend’s mind.

you and PHY seem awfully chummy - Fab

Devi looked over her shoulder at her friends after reading Fabiola’s text message. Both Fab and Eleanor were giving her pretty pointed looks, and Devi just responded with a grimace and raised eyebrows. This whole friends thing sounded so easy with Paxton when they were sitting on his couch in the middle of the night. No one else was around, no one could pass judgment. Things were going to be a little harder in practice.

Fortunately, class was pretty uneventful. Mr. Shapiro started a new unit, they went over the lesson, and they were dismissed. Devi gathered her things quickly and hurried out of the room without waiting for her friends, her boyfriend, or Paxton. Of course, Paxton was her friend, so she didn’t know why she listed him in his own category.

“Hey,” the object of her musings appeared beside her locker.

Devi jumped at the sound of his voice, but managed to somewhat recover. “Hey, what’s good, playa?”

Paxton smirked at her with warm eyes. “Just wanted to check on you now that it’s been a couple hours.”

“Oh! Honestly, I feel good. Watching you actually helps me calm down,” she said before realizing how it sounded. “I mean, not that I just watch you, but I mean, watching you swim… it’s nice to see how you glide through the water… it’s like a white noise machine.”

“Right,” Paxton replied slowly after a beat. “Well you should come by today after school. I have an idea.”

She nodded as he walked away down the hall. Before Devi’s imagination could get the better of her though, her friends replaced Paxton in her line of vision.

“What is going on?” Fabiola asked bluntly.

“Yeah, are you and Paxton hooking up behind Ben’s back?”

“What? Of course not!” Devi was outraged. How could they think she would do that? “Paxton is my friend.”

“Since when?”

“Yeah, last thing we knew, you went there for dinner for his sister and it got hella weird,” Eleanor added. “What gives?”

Devi had not shared the one on one conversations she and Paxton had with her friends. Sure, the initial apology after dinner would probably be okay. Having a drink with Paxton in the garage at 2 o’clock in the morning after catching him in his underwear with an erection? No, there was no good way to relay that encounter.

“Um..” Devi hesitated. She couldn’t tell them the truth now after hiding her fear for so long, and then telling Paxton before telling them. They’d think she was a bad friend. “I’m tutoring him,” she lied. “Yeah, he’s got to get his grades up to meet the minimum for Stanford swimming to offer him a scholarship so I’m helping him.”

“Does Ben know?” Eleanor asked as Devi’s phone pinged in her pocket.

She pulled her phone out and read the message from Paxton, don’t forget to bring your suit ;), and she felt her cheeks heat up. “No,” she told Eleanor absentmindedly. “No, he doesn’t know.”

“Well, are you going to tell him?” Fabiola prodded.

Devi shook herself out of her daze and really heard her friends’ questions. “No, not right now. You guys know he would freak out if he knew Paxton and I were spending time together no matter how platonic. I’ll tell him eventually but everything is still so new, I don’t want to wreck it.”

Her friends’ judgment was evident, but Devi couldn’t let that bother her. Paxton was helping her confront one of her deepest fears, and she didn’t need to feel guilty about that. Instead, she chose to focus on making the most of her time with Paxton and enjoying their friendship while hopefully ridding her of her phobia.

Devi knocked briefly before letting herself into the Hall-Yoshida garage. It was empty and so she dropped her bag and plopped down onto the couch. It was almost funny, Devi thought. Things were so different now. A few months ago, she was terrified entering this space. She’d freaked, cut her leg open and bolted. Even the last time she’d been here, she’d tried to quietly reflect and calm her nerves after having one of her sexual fantasies manifest in the form of actually seeing Paxton Hall-Yoshida in his underwear with a boner. Now, she just comes right in and —

“Make yourself at home,” Paxton’s voice broke her from her thoughts.

She intended to make a sarcastic retort, but was caught off guard by him being in swim trunks already, and not the tight spandex trunks he wore for the swim team. No, these were normal, red and black trunks. They were entirely less revealing, outside of showing off his muscled chest, but they weren’t a uniform. Something about Paxton being voluntarily half naked and not bleeding from the hand had Devi looking at him dumbly from across the room.

“Devi, you good?” He asked cautiously, coming to sit next to her.

Her gaze trailed down from his collarbone to his pecs, to his abs, to his… her eyes grew wide as she realized she was openly ogling him. She snapped her eyes back to his to find him grinning at her.

“Everything okay?” He asked again. She nodded dumbly in response. “Good. Why don’t you go change? I have an idea that may work to start.”

“Okay, I’ll go change in the bathroom and meet you back here?”

“Nah, just come out to the back yard.”

Completely disrobed in the bathroom, Devi had another decision to make. Two suits. She brought two bathing suits with her both that morning and in the afternoon. She hadn’t even bothered to change before class that morning because just entering the aquatic center was enough to bring her near hyperventilation. She couldn’t do that again, and to be fair, if Paxton had a pool, it was news to Devi. And she asked him to help her swim. If that’s what she really wanted, then she needed to trust Paxton and let him help her. That meant she had to choose: black, Speedo one-piece or bubble gum pink bikini?

“Why’d you even bring both, Devi?” She asked her reflection.

She wasn’t sure she was ready to answer that question. She knew things were different now. She was dating Ben, and Paxton was her friend. That was her choice… it was just a much easier choice to make when she and Paxton weren’t speaking to each other. If she was honest, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Paxton since their middle of the night encounter last week. He was right when he said they had come a long way. She had come a long way, becoming more comfortable around him, and seeing him on an equal level versus the Adonis pedestal she placed him on in the past. Then he became real.

Paxton became more than the unattainable sex god that riddled her darkest fantasies. He became someone she could talk with, laugh with, open up to. He became her friend. Her friend that was still a sex god that riddled her darkest fantasies… these were the thoughts that had her leaning toward the far more revealing bikini for their lesson that afternoon.

She had a boyfriend though, a boyfriend she very much liked. Sure, she and Ben were unkind to each other in the past. He had routinely referred to her by a boy’s name, called her unfuckable, and yeah, he started the rumor that she faked her paralysis freshman year. She played her own role in their antagonistic relationship though, and all that was behind them anyway. Ever since his party, Ben had been much nicer to her. Of course, that was including when he tried to kiss her while still dating Shira… but obviously, that was because he had feelings for her that when he was sober, he wasn’t ready to confront yet. He had been there for her like no one else had. He deserved a good girlfriend. That was Devi’s last thought on the subject before donning the black athletic one piece.

The first thing Devi saw when she stepped onto the patio made her heart catch in her throat. A hot tub. It was too big. It was too much. Too much. She couldn’t get in a hot tub. It was already way too hot, Devi thought, feeling the air get thicker around her. Her throat felt constricted and she wondered how anyone was as able to breathe in these conditions. It felt impossible.

“Devi! Are you okay?” She heard Paxton ask faintly.

Her head began shaking back and forth frantically, but she didn’t feel like she was the one controlling it. Instead, it was moving of its own accord, and her voice didn’t sound like her own when she said, “I can’t get in the hot tub.”

Two strong hands grasped her waist and physically turned her so her back was to the offending item. It was then she saw Paxton. His eyes searched hers desperately before a hand came to cradle her face. She immediately felt herself relax into his touch just enough that she could take a breath.

“Hey, you’re okay. I got you,” he cooed. “I know you’re not ready for that, and that’s okay. Just take a deep breath.”

She still felt like she was gulping for air, but her body melted into his as he pulled her in for a hug. They just stood like that until she could regain control of her breathing. When she did, Paxton gently released her and Devi was honestly surprised by how disappointed she was to not be in his arms any longer.

“You good?” He asked cautiously. She nodded sheepishly. “Cool. Let’s get away from this so you can see what I have set up for you.”

She nodded again and let him take her hand to lead her deeper into the backyard. When she saw it, she couldn’t believe the relief that flooded her.

“A slip n slide?” She huffed out.

“A slip n slide!” He dropped her hand to raise his arms victoriously. “I looked up some stuff about phobias and I think it’ll help. It’s called exposure treatment. We’ll start slow and work your way up.”

“You researched phobias?”

“Well, yeah,” he nodded. “And I’ll be here for you the whole time.”

Devi felt herself smile. Paxton really took the time to try to figure out how to help her. No throwing her in the deep end of the pool, but actually holding her hand through this. Being by her side while they figured it out together. She couldn’t believe how lucky she felt to have him in her life at that moment.

It wasn’t a very fancy slip n side, most likely he’d had it in the shed since he and Becca were kids. It was still in good shape though and he’d placed it over a decline at the end that allowed for pooling of water. He had the hose running and ready, but when they stepped up to the start, it became infinitely more intimidating.

As though he could sense her apprehension, Paxton said, “how about I go first, and then you can try?”

She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat in order to respond. When she wasn’t successful, she nodded. Paxton gave her a weak grin, and reached out to squeeze her shoulder. It was probably a measure of reassurance, and it worked for a moment, but the minute his touch was gone, her nerves settled in again.

“Okay, so you want to get a running start so you go faster through the slide,” he told her, taking four to five steps back. “You ready?”

“Ready,” she choked out after a beat of silence.

Paxton took off, and dove smoothly onto the track. Devi felt her anxiety melt away as he slid down the track on his stomach. It was almost like watching his perfect strokes through the water, and something about watching him made her forget her fear. Then he crashed into the small wading pool at the end of the slide, and just like that Devi’s breath was stuck in her throat again, and it felt like a bucket of ice water was dumped over her head.

When Paxton stood up, he immediately sought her gaze for eye contact. Just as quickly, he seemed to notice how her panic rose again.

“Devi,” he called down to her. “You can do this, okay? Don’t think about the water, just focus on me.” She could feel how wide her eyes were and her mouth was starting to dry out as it hung open, but Paxton’s encouragement started to wear her down when he said, “Come to me, Devi. I got you.”

She took a steadying breath and barely nodded before stepping a few paces back like Paxton had. Paxton continued to cheer her on and beckon her to his open arms as she fought her body to cooperate with her. Finally, after another deep breath, Devi let out a guttural scream, her war cry, and ran toward the slide. She slid onto her stomach much like Paxton had and did not have the good sense to close her mouth until it was filled with hose water. It got her choked up again and it was difficult to catch her breath, but just as quickly as she started, she was plunged into the wading pool. Before she had a chance to panic-swallow more water, Paxton’s strong arms hauled her to a standing position and she collided with his chest in a tight hug.

“You did it!” He whispered triumphantly. “You did great, I’m so proud of you.”

“I did it,” she breathed, arms clutched tightly around his shoulders as though he would disappear if she let go. “I did it,” she repeated, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Devi and Paxton worked with the slip n slide for three more weeks, and it was amazing how quickly she was improving. Each time, Paxton was there to catch her at the end of the slide, and she grew more confident with each trip.

“So do you have plans this weekend?” Paxton asked, passing her a towel.

“Probably just studying for the history test,” she replied, drying her hair gently.

“With Gross?”

They hadn’t talked about Ben at all during their sessions. She had also skirted the issue of spending so much time with Paxton by telling her boyfriend that she’d been assigned a new student to tutor. She didn’t tell him it was Paxton. Things had been calm the last few weeks despite how crazy the first months of the semester had been. If she was honest, she hadn’t spent much time with or thought much about Ben that week at all. Things were going so well with Paxton and their sessions that she spent most of her time looking forward to the next time she’d be in his backyard in her bathing suit.

“Uh.. I don’t know. Probably him, Fab, and Eleanor, I guess,” she told him. “Or by myself. I don’t really have anything planned.”

“Would you…” he trailed off quietly before finding his voice again. “Would you maybe want to study here… with me?”

Devi felt herself smile. “Sure, I mean, my friends think I’m tutoring you anyway so that would make sense.”

“What?”

She breathed through another smile at how his brow furrowed, but rolled her eyes at herself before answering him. “I had to have a reason for why we’re talking so much more at school… so I told them I was tutoring you.”

Paxton’s head dropped as he huffed out a laugh. “You’re really good at lying, huh?”

“No! I just… get nervous about how people will react to stuff so sometimes it’s just easier to say something else.”

He nodded. “Well, you better tutor me then. ‘Cause if I fail this test, your whole story falls apart,” he said taking a step closer to her.

“Maybe you just don’t listen to me,” she grinned.

He took another step forward, this time into her personal space. “Impossible,” he countered, “have you met you?”

Devi’s smile grew before she realized how close Paxton really was to her. It wasn’t his actual proximity. They’d been closer physically than ever in these recent weeks, but something felt different that time. She could feel the heat radiating off of him and there was electricity in the air. He seemed to feel it too, and shook himself free before taking the towel back from her. That only allowed him to take in the full view of her from top to bottom, forcing Devi to close her eyes so she didn’t feel the full force of his gaze.

She heard Paxton swallow, then clear his throat, and then he took a step back. Devi chose then to meet his gaze, and found the same calculating look she’d now seen a total of three times. He had a depth she hadn’t previously credited him with. Now that she’d seen it, it was hard to ignore.

“Uh.. yeah, I think we could study together.”

Paxton grinned crookedly at her. “Cool,” he licked his lips before changing the subject. “Why don’t you go ahead and change, and then I’ll take you home.”

“That’s okay, I can I walk.” Devi said quickly. “I mean, I’d like to walk. Helps me clear my head.”

“Oh.. okay.”

Devi didn’t feel like she took another breath until she was shut in the bathroom of the Hall-Yoshida residence. Was Paxton really flirting with her? Did he really check her out like she thought he had? She’d been so wrong about so many of their encounters in the past, but… he did kiss her. Paxton Hall Yoshida was her first kiss and it was only a couple months ago. Maybe he really liked her. Maybe they —

A text message on her phone cut off her internal rambling. When she read it, her breath caught in her throat again:

Why are you at Paxton’s?

Fuck. Ben.

How could she forget about Ben? Here she was going down the Paxton rabbit hole again when she had Ben, her actual boyfriend. Things were different now though. She wasn’t sure exactly when they changed, but she knew they had.

She quickly typed out a response and then changed into her dry clothes.

***

“So Paxton is the student you’re tutoring?

“Uh.. yeah, kinda,” Devi told Ben. “Paxton is my friend, but I am helping him study.” It wasn’t technically a lie anymore now that they’d made plans for Saturday.

“Anything else you want to tell me?”

“What are you accusing me of, Ben?”

“Obviously, I’m the only one committed to this relationship. You’re still just drooling over some dick that wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

Devi scoffed, as the wind left her sails. She knew Ben would be hurt, and she expected him to be jealous that she was spending time with Paxton. She didn’t expect him to say Paxton wouldn’t want anything to do with her. She didn’t expect him to imply that she wasn’t good enough for Paxton. Like Ben was doing her some great, big favor by dating her. Once a UN, always a UN, she guessed.

“You know, I came here ready to explain myself, ready to apologize. Maybe you’re right though. Maybe you’re the only one committed to this relationship. God knows, I don’t want to be in a relationship where it’s okay to talk to me like that.”

Ben’s eyes widened, and Devi watched the color drain from his face. “No, Devi, I didn’t mean” —

“You didn’t mean to, not accuse me of cheating on you, but instead, accuse me of so desperately wanting to cheat on you that I would be the lap dog to a different guy?”

Devi really thought Ben deserved an explanation. That was why she went to his house. She realized though, she didn’t owe him anything. Ben had been the constant ignition to Devi’s insecurities. She thought that would stop when they became boyfriend and girlfriend, but no. Instead, he wanted to keep them together by making her feel unwanted by anyone else. She knew better though.

“Devi” —

“You are seriously the textbook ‘nice guy,’ aren’t you?” She air quoted. “Well, I don’t need any of that. I think we’re done here.”

Ben is canceled.

Devi felt oddly satisfied when she sent the text to Fabiola and Eleanor. She thought she would feel guilty after their encounter, but honestly, she felt liberated. Ben had been there for her when no one else was, and he showed that he cared about her. Still, when confronted with the idea that she may want to spend time with someone else, he immediately turned on her. Red flag. Big red flag.

Her friends immediately made plans to have a sleepover at Eleanor’s the following night. They wanted all the details. When Devi happily supplied them, they encouraged her as enthusiastically as she expected.

“Yes, girl,” Eleanor cried, giving her snaps when she told them she wouldn’t let Ben talk to her that way.

“You’re a strong, independent woman, and you don’t need some small little white boy trying to keep you down,” Fabiola bolstered.

“Thanks, guys. That brings me to my next problem though.” And for the first time, she told her friends about when she and Paxton kissed, how her mom had yelled at them the next day and called Paxton stupid, and how he’d left her a voicemail because he’d come to see her while she was in Malibu with her family. They were shocked to say the least.

“So what’s your problem?”

“Wondering exactly how long the pole is that Paxton would touch you with?” Eleanor asked suggestively.

Nope, that is definitely not the issue, Devi thought as she recalled seeing Paxton in his underwear. No, she knew exactly how big a tent that pole could support. The question was, was she misinterpreting their relationship?

“No… I mean, do you think he could like me?”

“Well, he definitely liked you enough to kiss you, but you also chose Ben over him,” Fabiola recapped. “That’s a tough blow.”

“But he wants to spend time with Devi anyway,” Eleanor argued. “I mean, you guys have study sessions almost every afternoon.”

“Right,” Devi trailed off as she considered her encounters with Paxton since she and Ben started dating. How he’d been respectful of her relationship, never once putting Ben down or asking why she had decided to go out with him. She thought about what a good friend he’d been of late with their sessions. She thought about how close she felt to him, and how she wasn’t exaggerating their closeness like she had at the beginning of the school year. She didn’t need to dress up or fabricate the things he said or did to her anymore. Everything was really happening.

“Do you want us to come tomorrow and assess the situation?”

Devi considered Eleanor’s offer, but finally shook her head. “No, I think this is one I have to sort out myself.”

***

“Alright, who coined the term ‘Cold War’ in the British press in October 1954?” Devi asked, looking up at her companion.

“I don’t know… Russia?”

Her eyes narrowed. “No, George Orwell. You’re right, my reputation as a nerd and the best tutor in school is on the line.”

“Shut up, this stuff’s hard. We’re not all Devi Vishwakumar,” he bumped her with his elbow.

“You’re smart too though. How did you know all that stuff about Hinduism or phobias?”

“That’s different. That’s interesting stuff.”

Devi felt her cheeks heat up, and chose to stare at her textbook. Would Paxton find those things interesting if they weren’t directly related to her? Was it his way of saying that she was interesting or important to him? She chanced a glance toward him to see him was also very deliberately staring at his book. She briefly wondered why before he looked up sharply and slapped his knee.

“I guess we have a lot to get through then if we’re going to save your rep. Better get to it.”

“Yeah… for sure,” she said slowly before continuing to quiz him.

A couple hours, some poptarts and pizza rolls later, they had significantly improved Paxton’s knowledge of the subject matter. They both were thrilled with his progress.

“Okay, let’s come full circle,” Devi said. “Who coined the term ‘Cold War?’”

“George Orwell… in the British press… in 1954,” he finished sitting back in his chair confidently.

“Yes! Good job, dude. You picked up on this stuff, no problem!” She smiled.

“Well, you’re a good teacher,” he smiled back, leaning forward.

“You’re a good student,” she told him, biting her bottom lip and leaning forward towards him.

Paxton glanced at her lips briefly before licking his own. She thought, this was it. He was going to kiss her. Instead, Paxton blinked, his eyes staying closed a little longer than normal, and sighed before scooting his chair away from the table.

“Uh.. my parents won’t be home from work for a few hours, and Becca is at a friend’s house if you want to hangout some more,” he suggested, rubbing the back of his neck. “We could drag the slip n slide out?”

Devi smiled. “Umm… I think I’m ready for the next challenge.”

“Yeah?” Paxton asked disbelievingly. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I want to try.”

“Alright,” he smiled with a nod. “I’ll get changed and we’ll head out there.”

Once Devi was closed in the bathroom again, she pulled her suit out of her bag. Pink bikini, don’t fail me now.

After a quick change, and plucking any stray hairs, Devi opened the bathroom door to see Paxton waiting on the other side. Her confidence faltered as he took in her appearance. His brow nearly disappeared into his hairline, and she noticed him swallow before exhaling slowly.

“Is this okay?” She asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, totally okay,” he responded, finally meeting her eye. “I, uh, wanted to walk you out so we could avoid as strong a reaction as last time… We’re in this together, right?”

She nodded, appreciating his support. Together.

It seemed like such a good idea before. Before she was standing in front of a large container filled with water. Water that she would have to submerge herself in.

Already drowning in her own fear, Devi didn’t hear Paxton talking to her until she felt him take her hand.

“Hey, Devi,” he called, waving his other hand in her face. “Can you hear me?”

She blinked longer than usual to clear her head before finding his gaze again. “Yeah, sorry. I was just spiraling.”

“Listen, you don’t have to do this right now. There’s no pressure, okay?”

“I know,” she nodded, licking her lips apprehensively. “I want to do this. You won’t leave me, right?”

He smiled. “We’re in this together, Vishwakumar.”

With that, she carefully made her way up the steps, and stepped into the hot water. Paxton held her hand the whole way. The best part of using the hot tub? The heat further distracted her from her fear that she didn’t even realize Paxton was touching her for a moment. It wasn’t until she was sitting down and should have been relaxing that her anxiety began to spike again.

“Hey, breathe, okay? I’m right here,” Paxton’s hand slipped from hers to wrap around her shoulders.

Without thinking, without meaning to, Devi dropped her head into the crook of Paxton’s neck. Her arms clung to his waist desperately, willing her breathing to level out. She felt Paxton’s other arm come around to encircle her, and it had the very calming effect she assumed he intended. As her breathing returned to a normal pace, Devi found she felt almost sleepy. She felt warm, not because of the water, but inside. It was like her body was humming, like everything was fuzzy. She let out a deep sigh of relief, and felt Paxton shift slightly against her.

“Are you okay?” He whispered. She wondered if he could feel how peaceful things were in that moment. No, he probably just wanted to make sure she hadn’t passed out.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “This helps.”

“Yeah? Like watching me helps?”

“I can’t explain it, and I know it doesn’t make any sense especially because I’m such a disaster when we talk,” she rambled before taking a steadying breath, “but watching you, touching you, calms me down.”

Paxton took a shaky breath, and Devi pulled back slightly to look at him. His eyes were closed, cheeks flushed. She loved seeing him like this. Vulnerable, as though she affected him as much as he affected her. This time, she thought, I’ll kiss him.

Before Devi could lean forward, Paxton abruptly put space between them. One hand remained on her shoulder, but his head was hanging his eyes were closed.

“Devi,” he started before letting out a long sigh, “I am trying so hard. I mean, I love spending time with you and I want to be here for you. I want to be a good friend to you, but you’re killing me.”

“What?”

“You have a boyfriend,” he replied emphatically. “I don’t really know why, but you do. And all this,” he gestured between them, “feels a lot like cheating, and I’m not down for it.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no,” the words came tumbling out, “no, no, no. No, that’s on me. Paxton” —

“Devi, I like you,” he cut her off. “Not in the ‘I want to reinstate our sex agreement’ way, but like, I really like you. I hate studying! But you make it fun. I love the way you spit out that first five thoughts that pop into your head at any given moment. I love that you trust me to tell me your deepest fear that no one else knows, and I love that we’ve been able to work through it together. I don’t know if I can do this anymore though.”

“Sorry I didn’t interrupt, you really seemed like you were on a roll, but,” she paused to take another deep breath, “I don’t… have a boyfriend anymore.”

“What?”

“Things are different now. I broke up with Ben two days ago, and… I really like you too. I never wanted just sex from you. I just never thought we’d be here right now.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend?”

She shook her head, shyly looking down at the water. Her bottom lip found it’s way between her teeth, barely suppressing her smile. She felt his hand slip from her shoulder and snake it’s way around her waist. She looked up as he pulled her body into his so close that their breath mingled.

“Should we make another toast?” She asked nervously.

His forehead pressed against hers as he laughed. When he regained his composure, he looked in her eyes warmly. “Later.”

And for the second time, Paxton Hall-Yoshida’s lips were on hers, and it. was. electric. Somehow, it was even better than the first time. She felt everything else melt away, and it was just the two of them floating through space. Nothing else mattered for that moment. She wasn’t sure when she ended up in his lap, but she wound her arms around his neck all the same before her hands found his curly hair. Under other circumstances, she may have worried that her own hair had become so frizzy that he wouldn’t find her attractive. She realized though, she didn’t have to worry about that. No, as Paxton gripped her hips tighter, she knew very well that he was attracted to her.

This was everything she ever wanted, except it was better. Paxton’s hand came up to cradle her face as his tongue massaged hers in a way that made her spine tingle. Devi was so engrossed in having the greatest moment of her life, she didn’t hear the back door open.

“Wooooo!” Becca hollered as they jumped apart. “Finally!”

“Becca, get out of here!” Paxton yelled, splashing his sister. She laughed, making a comment about being safe as she went back inside.

“So… your sister’s home,” Devi said. They sat awkwardly for a moment before both breaking into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah, mood ruined, I guess.”

“Well, I know one thing: this is the happiest I’ve felt in any body of water in a year.”

He huffed out a laugh, eyes finding his lap before meeting her gaze again. “Happy to help.”

<< Part 2

#never have i ever #devi vishwakumar #paxton hall yoshida #daxton #nhie #paxton x devi #devi x paxton #never have i ever netflix #writing

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xfeliciahardyx · 3 years

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Summary: What happened in the bakery changed you. The next few years would force you to harden and build so many walls that you vowed to never let anyone in. You can probably guess what happens when a certain soldier starts to scale those walls so that he can get to you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mention of blood, intense details about ww2, side character deaths, traumatic backgrounds, mention of Nazis, mentions of broken bones and bullet wounds, children suffering due to the war, imprisonment in a concentration camp, someone does get stabbed, and angst (Warnings will be added as the story continues if need be. This is just for the first chapter!)

Taglist: ~Here~ (Feel free to add yourself to any other categories!)

Word Count: 9k

Author's Note: Okay everyone reading I first want to say thank you for reading my imagine. There are some things that I need to clarify before you start reading this. The entire series will be me going through the Captain America movies. It first starts at The First Avenger and continues through the places in time where Bucky is and where he is not OoOoOoO plot twists. But yes this can be overwhelming to read because some details are VERY graphic. i did use techniques from my medical skills class so all the medical procedures are researched and correct. Please enjoy The Winter Soldier and The White Feather or as I like to call it WSWF

The war was changing you and everyone around you. It was making kind people turn green and bad people even worse. You learned that the hard way of course. When you’d had been taken to the facility you didn’t know what to expect. Now you had been in it for God knows how long and you didn’t know what would happen. You had no way of contacting your family. Of contacting anyone you knew really. You were lost, scared, hoping for a savior that didn’t seem to be appearing. Lost traveling in a fog ridden meadow without any sense of direction. It killed you to see how many people died and suffered at the hands of the Germans, but your screams were of no use. The way they treated everyone was as horrible as a cat chasing a mouse. Like you were the filth on their boots, the scum of the earth. Any time someone said something to them they’d react as if a fire touched their skin and recoil away. They acted as if they didn’t have enough money to feed anyone properly. The food was sure to break several health codes back in the city but that didn’t seem to stop you all from eating it. If it wasn’t stale bread that you could knock someone out with, it was week old soup that had hints of green to it. The water was as piss pore and was a dull gray. Not your best moments or the biggest feast for the holidays but it was for survival. It was meant for you to get on through the day and do as you’re told. The inmates had started to call it the end of the world. You didn’t blame them because it was. That didn’t stop them from constantly complaining about every little thing. You on the other hand couldn’t give a fuck. It was like every single one up and flew away with the happiness that had been your life in France. You couldn’t even speak after the horrors the world and slammed into your life. You avoided everyone and everything that lived, scared and desperate to stay hidden. It was the way to go and others followed your lead. You weren’t one to speak or do anything with another person and the others around you knew it. So, they cleared their distance and you appreciated it. You had never been one to stay quiet for long around people. Eventually you’d try to get to know them. But you had changed just as times had. Even now you knew to keep your cool and to keep up with your manners. At any minute they could kill you. Or they could do something to shatter your already scarred mind. You knew you weren’t like the people who decided to suck up to them. Kissing the floor, they walked on for a little bit of clean water, or a bowl of soup that was freshly made. They were horrible to the suck ups and laughed at them as they did their best to seem appealing. You would never stoop as low to be a person who supported the people who had made this sad reality your life. Despite everything your parents had done to you, you always managed kindness. The girl who was secretly the crush of every guy because of her brains. The kind of girl that went to the library in her free time. The girl who never dated because she claimed she wanted to focus on school but could never know how to talk to guys. Went to the movies with her one friend who she cared about more than anything. The girl who made life positive because her family had always made it negative. Yes, you were over all kind but when you needed to be you could be as sharp as a spear. So, why did they kidnap you? It was simply a case of being at the wrong place in the wrong time. But that didn’t excuse their actions following the moments they walked in that bakery with their rifles held high and their voices screaming in curses. Why did they have to kill one of the most important people in your life right in front of you? Shot her straight through the heart at the bakery around the block from the school. All because she was Jewish. Their logic didn’t explain why they had the right to take her life. Her younger siblings had been complaining about food and you had an extra food stamp to use. You’d despised the stars they had to wear on their chest that prohibited them from having the normal things every person

needs. You all had practically skipped to the bakery in hopes that they’d have chocolate. It was a nice moment thinking that everything was back to normal. She had only been 21 and you 20. That was 3 years ago. Even so long after you could still imagine the events that had occurred. Her blood had splattered all over your polka dotted yellow dress. All she had asked for was food for her siblings. Sure, sweets would have been kind but you were all hungry in general. When the soldiers had come in, they’d been attracted to her star. You should have been on guard more, but you’d been naive to think they wouldn’t harm them. One had grabbed Ciera and pushed himself against her. In her reaction she’d kicked the German away and his comrade shot her. Her siblings that had been clinging to your side as they shot her cried out for their sister as she dropped to the ground. Siblings that had their throats slit as they clung to your arms. You had begged for their lives. They were just two children. You thought they would have a little mercy. You knew you would take care of them for their sister. You tried to explain that Tommy and Cassandra had been hungry, and their sister had been killed right in front of them. The trauma they had suffered was enough for their minds to endure. All of what was happening was enough to make anyone mad. It was necessary that they cry and mourn. But as heartless as they were, they showed no remorse. That two children crying for their dead sister would never and hadn’t stopped the Germans. They’d ripped the children from your hands and pressed their silver knives to their throats killed them. You wanted to fight for them. You loved them like your own siblings. They didn’t deserve the fate that had been handed to them. The third soldier had held your arms behind your back to stop you from tearing them away. You had tried to fight him, but you knew he wouldn’t let go. You watched the blood slip from their throats, and you sagged against the soldier. He had been the kinder of the three. A recruit perhaps. You didn’t realize until later that he’d held you in his embrace throughout the car ride to the place where you’d be transported. The screams that left their mouths still haunted you and you saw their terrified faces in your dreams. Sometimes they would come together as a group. Other times Tommy would visit you with blood seeping from his throat asking you for his sisters. You blamed yourself for not fighting hard enough. You watched as the life left your eyes when you knew it should have been you. You should have been dead on the ground with them as they lay dead next to their sister on the ground. Yes, life was unfair. But if life was unfair than war was no comparison.

“Gurl!” A German soldier yells pointing his finger to a spot in front of him. Most of them could barely speak English and when they did it was so slurred. Half the times you had to watch their hand motions to understand what they wanted. His eyes are locked on you from your spot by the back of the courtyard. It was a quiet place that everyone avoided because of the sun that would beam on you. They preferred the shade, but you just needed the quiet heat to cleanse your mind. You cursed and grabbed onto the chain fence behind you to lift yourself up. It bent with your weight but you knew it wouldn’t break. It was a trashy fence that if you tried to climb, you’d either be shot down or just get so scratched that you’d just end up doing more harm than good. The fence traveled around the vast courtyard that was rundown and brown. The fence had rust in certain spots from when it rained but it never did anything for the concrete. Blood stains covered the floor from where prisoners had been shot and dragged away. There were splatters and puddles all over the already dirty floor. Even on the ground leading into your cells you’d find the lengthened blood beneath your feet. The courtyard was the only time you got to see the outside world. They also had a calendar on the wall that told you what day it was. You weren’t sure why but maybe it was to bring down the spirits of everyone. You on the other hand had been there for 3 years 2 months and 25 days. Since the beginning of the German’s invasion of France. It was made up of mock punching bags filled with paper plates and hard pillows that no dared to sleep on. People sat in cliques all around speaking in different languages. Most of them spoke French and in your time there you’d picked up bits of other languages. Nothing too major but just enough to understand.

“Ve dount ave foreevare vittle gurl.” He yelled again and you picked up your pace. You didn’t want to do anything to cause any more attention to yourself. His accent sent prickles of fear up your spine and the hairs on your arms stood on end. As you walked by a few whispers drafted into your ears and people glanced away. Being called over by a soldier wasn’t a good thing and people avoided it as much as they could. There was always the possibility of someone getting shot or having to do something you weren’t mentally or physically prepared to do. So, the terror that was filling up your mind with endless possibilities wasn’t a fun thing. Anxiety tightened the space in your chest and your throat was constricted with worry. You stopped a few steps in front of the soldier who towered over you and said nothing as his eyes trailed over your body. Once upon a time you would have blushed and shifted awkwardly where you stood but now you stand still and stare straight at the wall behind the soldier to avoid eye contact. The mic on his shoulder beeps and he holds out a finger to you. You don’t respond and continue to stare straight ahead. He responds to the German voice in his native language rapidly and you fiddle with your hands behind your back. You could feel the tension rising around the two of you and it wasn’t good. His eyes had begun to harden more, and his posture grew rigid. His eyes darted around the dirt filled courtyard until he turned around and stared at a man. He had been beat up. On his eye was a purplish hue with hints of green. You saw a small limp in his walk as you turned your head in his direction. He stopped and leaned against the fence with his arms crossed a pair of tags dangling around his neck. The green Henley he wore was matted and had spatters of dried blood. His pants hung off his body, still fitting but with tears. Looking from the outside in he looked just as bad as every other prisoner of war. He had an unreadable expression as he surveyed his surroundings. You caught a small calculating look in his eyes as he scanned people that walked by. His eyes caught yours and your breath caught in your throat. He didn’t just stare at you from afar. He seemed to bare your soul out in front of everyone to see. His gaze was intense, and a hint of curiosity was in his dark eyes. The soldier beside you muttered something into his radio and your gaze snapped away from the handsome stranger and you turned back at attention. You couldn’t get the image of him out of your mind even as the soldier gave you your new group to follow to your cells. Everyone was given a number when they were placed in the camp. Each cell was alphabetized and most of the time people didn’t even pay attention to them. They did it to give themselves a feel of control. The only one you didn’t follow. You didn’t say anything back to him and when he dismissed you, you promptly walked back to your spot. You didn’t want to turn your head in the direction of the stranger you knew was walking over to you. You wanted to disappear, and you knew the moment he talked to you your tough exterior would break. There was something different about the way his head was held high and his shoulders never slumped. You could practically feel his confidence from across the courtyard and out of your peripheral vision. You slid down the fence with a sigh as you put your head in your knees. You took a few breaths to keep yourself calm as a pair of shoes came into view. They were brown and matted and looked like they’d seen better days.

“You okay?” a voice followed. It was low and soft, but it sent shivers down your spine. You slowly raised your eyes up the body that was wearing them, and your eyes widened in surprise where the man from before stood in front of you. He’s much taller than you initially realized and his eyes a deeper brown. He stares down at you with worry and you just stared at him not knowing what to do. He was around your age and it was rare you found anyone your age and that spoke a language you could speak. Sure, there were people who spoke your language and had tried to talk to you. Soon enough they stopped coming around because staying in a group too long would strike fearing the people because they wouldn’t want the Germans thinking new company meant rebellion. He moved to your side and carefully slid down the steel fence. You stared ahead at the people who stood in the middle of the courtyard.

“So, you people watch.” The stranger says motioning to the people in front of you both. You nod without looking at him keeping a close eye on the people in front of you. Something felt wrong about the gathering. It wasn’t anything good. Someone was shoved across into another person and you heard the stranger suck in a breath. He felt the sudden shift too and he pointed a finger towards a short man in broken glasses. His eyes flipped from each side of the courtyard where the two soldiers stood. His hands were clasped together, and his feet were headed in the direction of the crowd. You nudged your elbow into your newfound companions’ arm tilting your chin up in the direction of the people. The air felt stiff in the courtyard more than normal as the crowd began to step into a circle the short man now joining them. The soldiers seemed to notice it too because their gazes were hardened, and their guns were pointed. Your heart began to pound as you knew what was coming next. It haunted you every night ever since you had seen it the day you’d been kidnapped and taken to this camp. The images of Ciera’s body falling to the ground flashes through your vision and you shake your head, feeling your heart squeeze. The screams of her siblings were in the wind you closed your eyes tight and took in a deep breath. They were screaming out orders in German, but the group paid them no mind. You couldn’t breathe. Your hands rubbed against your rugged jeans completely lost to your nightmares that were coming to life. You opened your eyes slowly and looked around to see if anyone else was witnessing what was going down. A few other small groups of people watched from afar with dead eyes, but none made a move to assist. Your eyes were locked on the German soldier directly across from you that was walking towards the group. With each footstep your breathing became faster and your mind screamed for them to heed the warnings the Germans were giving. The group was large and growing by the minute which in the eyes of your captors was a bigger threat. The German nudged one of the people in the group with his gun and what happened next you had never expected. The stringy thin man with blood hair who had been poked spun around and stabbed the soldier in the neck with a foreign object and someone screamed. His hands went to his throat and he dropped his gun. The man dove for it as the soldier fell slowly bleeding out on the concrete. Everything was chaos as the gun dropped and a single bullet escaped from its chamber. The bullet flew across the courtyard and your eyes flew with it watching it impale a single child.

“No!” you screamed bolting up from your place by the fence. The soldiers burst into action firing down anyone who had been in the huge crowd. Everyone went running towards the inside of the prison, trying to avoid the bullets. It was pure chaos as people from everywhere were getting shot as they tried to escape the rage of the soldiers. There were screams of all different languages and you heard the cry of the mother above all. Her cries for her baby filled your ears as you raced across the courtyard toward the downed child. The man followed you close behind, and you paid him no mind as you shoved through the on rush of people. People were getting into meaningless fights as they tried to get away. A man stops in front of you making a grab for your waist. A hand presses against your chest shoving you back as the stranger jumps in front of you. He throws a hard punch at the man who’d made an attempt touch and he gets knocked to the ground. You grabbed his hand and started running again. The mother’s screams in French guided you through the crowd. You felt your foot hit something before you went flying. Your hands moved out in front of you to stop the fall by instinct and on impact you hissed in pain. You had landed hard on your free hand but was yanked back up just as quickly.

“We have to go.” The man from before whispered in your ear.

“The child needs help.” You whispered back and he didn’t say a word back as he supported you on the remaining distance. The child lay on the ground holding his mother’s hand as she screamed for help. The brown-haired man set you on the floor beside the child and you immediately began ripping your jacket off your arms. You ripped the sleeves off the jacket and used the back to apply pressure to the wound. The single bullet hole was small but on the size of the boy was enough to cause a lot of damage. You quickly felt it become wet with blood and pressed down a little harder as the boy cried out in pain.

“Mon garçon, s'il vous plaît, sauvez mon garçon.”(My boy, Please save my boy) She sobbed as her eyes covered her face. Her hands were covered in his blood and your mind flashed with the memory of your own hands covered in Tommy and Cassandra’s blood. You ignored her cries but that didn’t stop you from helping her. You kept a steady push on his leg to slow the bleeding. After a few checks you eyed the wound and you couldn’t help the feel of triumph that flowed through your heart. The slow of bleeding meant you could check the wound for any other injuries it could have caused. You ripped open his pant leg and wiped the blood away to get a good look at the wound. This wasn’t the first time you’d be a medic and it wouldn’t be the last. Your father had gotten plenty of hunting wounds and you had been the one to take care of them. His leg only held one bullet hole, but his leg was so skinny it could fit in the palm of your hand. Your heart ached that this would be the childhood he remembered and not one filled with days of running in a field with his mother or being in school with his friends. He was one of the lucky ones you had to remind yourself. He was alive and you were determined to keep him that way. Your hands moved with remarkable speed as you lifted the child’s leg and looked for the exit wound of the bullet. A small hole was in the back of his leg and you wiped it clear of blood. You lifted the sleeve from earlier to your teeth and made a big enough tear that you could rip it with your bare hands. The long piece of clothing dangled between your fingertips as you examined the length. From the way the threading looked it wouldn’t hold for long, so you’d have to find a more permanent solution. But that was later and the thin cloth would do good for now.

“How can I help?” The man whispered in your ear again as your mind whirled with adrenaline. Your instincts in healing were helping you move through the steps you’d done so many times before with ease, but you couldn’t help the storm brewing in your feelings. You were enraged, scared, and so many other feelings all at once. You had gotten lost in the moment as you rushed to save the boy that lay before you. People were still running inside, and the screams had begun to slow. The courtyard was filled with sobs of families returning to their loved one’s bodies that lay dead on the floor. The blood on the ground would haunt them for the rest of their lives as the bodies were carried away by the ‘healthy’ prisoners.

“Lift his leg carefully. I need to make a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.” You said softly showing him the places to place his hands. He placed his above and below the wound just as you’d asked and lifted slowly. The boy screamed in pain and the mother began to reach her hands out to stop you. You glared at her, but she ignored your attempts to stop her from distracting you. She was screaming at you in French, begging you to stop hurting her boy. You ignored her cries and curses and continued to work. Her hands were gripping yours now as she tightened them around your wrists, and you struggled to tie the knot.

“Si vous ne retirez pas vos mains, votre fils mourra!” (if you don’t pull your hands away your son will die) you snap back at her in French and her nails stop digging into your skin. She pulls away quickly but doesn’t move her eyes away from your face. You sigh in frustration as you tighten the knot around the boy’s leg. You can hear the boy crying for his maman and she’s trying to calm him but it’s no use. You grab the jacket and place it over the boys wound again and apply pressure. The mother is sobbing as she holds her sons face and you watch knowing that you can only help minimally. You motion for the man to lower his leg softly and he does. He watches you carefully as you wrap the torn jacket around his leg and tie it again in the back. The bleeding has slowed to minimal trickle, but you’ll have to find something to clean the wound to keep away infection. You sigh in relief collapsing on the back of your heels as the woman steps away from her boy and walks over to you. She offers a hand over to you and you stare at it not sure what to do. She smiles weakly and shakes her hand again. You realize she’s trying to get you to stand up and you take it willingly. She helps you stand up and as soon as you’ve got on your feet, she pulls you into a hug.

“You…help…. me Henry.” She whispers in your ear as she pulls away. There’s a new look in her eyes as she apologizes for hurting you in French. She pulls your wrists to her mouth and places small kisses over the crescent moon shaped marks. Her fingers run over them in a silent guilt and you pull away and give her a small smile. Her hand brushes your cheek leaving a trail of blood, but her eyes are locked on yours. She leans in placing a kiss on your cheek before releasing you from her embrace. She quiets quickly once you tell her that it’s alright and that you have something to tell her. You start to give her basic instructions that will keep her son alive. How to clean the wound and tell her the signs of infection. Her hands grip onto her fingers, and her eyes are eager to make sure she doesn’t miss a word. You tell her your cell keep so that if she may ever need your assistance, she can send someone. The man who helped you stands beside you as you give her these instructions nodding as you list off everything. Once you trust that she knows everything you bid her goodbye and tell her to stay safe. She doesn’t respond as she looks away from you down to her son whose hand is out reached for her. She rushes to her knees and grabs his hand and doesn’t give you another glance. You know she won’t leave him alone for a minute. The fear of losing her family wasn’t a good one and it had scarred her heart forever just as it did to you months ago. She would hold on tight to his hands and watch for any signs of sickness. She would not sleep through the night but would tell her boy that she did. She’d do anything to protect her last light in the dark world. Your eyes travel from their joined hands to the boys’ face. It’s pale, most likely from the blood loss but he smiles at you. He opens his mouth to say something, and just as quick as it opens it closes as a grimace of pain flashes over his face. You shake your head giving him a weak smile. You kneel beside his head and place a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead and murmur a good-bye. You give the mother and son a small wave before standing once more and turning on your heel to walk away. Your tail follows you as you make your rounds around the courtyard. People cry out to the two of you as you try your best to help anyone and everyone. Most people have died by the time you reach them, and you close their eyes for the dead to mourn. Some don’t accept that their loved one is dead and continue to scream their fury at your insistence. One man almost attacks you because he refuses to believe his wife was killed and the stranger has to stop him. Tears stream down your cheeks at the sight of each body that lies on the floor. There was so much blood on the court now that it was rare you saw an old patch that was dried. It runs underneath your shoes and covers each piece of cement with ease. It soaks the clothes of the people lying beside their families and friends crying their hearts out to someone who is no longer there. Their pain has become apart of you and you can feel the shock of it numb you by the time you reach the last patient. Your tears have dried up and your hands are covered in so much blood that pieces flake off when the wind blows through the courtyard. You stand beside the teenage girl that holds her arm limp as her companion stands nearby attempting to talk to you in German. You attempt to converse with him in French the only language you’d been able to learn in your months of imprisonment but it’s no use as he doesn’t understand you. The girl cries softly as you touch her arm trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Was ist mit ihr passiert?” (What happened to her?) your partner says in German earning a glance from the boy. He speaks faster now the urgency in his hand motions clear. You can’t help but watch in awe as the man who has been helping this whole time stays remarkably calm. He nods and continues to ask him questions and gives him responses without hesitation. He doesn’t interrupt when it becomes clear that the boy is in full out panic mode. You place your hand on the girls’ shoulder and she flinches away before you give her a small smile. She stared at you with a suspicious glare in her eyes, but you tapped your eyes and then pointed to her shoulder in hopes that she would understand. Her eyes are wide with understanding and she leans in closer to you. You press your fingertip towards the top of her shoulder, and you feel her flinch. Doing this a few more times as you examine her shoulder you realize it doesn’t look like the other. It’s bent at an odd angle and you curse yourself for not realizing sooner.

“Her shoulder is dislocated presumably from being trampled in the panic. I know how to put it back in place, but it’ll be a two person job so I’ll need your help...” you trail off not knowing your assistants name. He glances over his shoulder giving you a smile makes you look down at your hands tat have begun to fidget.

“Call me Bucky.” He winks but you can tell he immediately regrets it because he turns away and starts muttering something under his breath. You catch a small huff of frustration that he cuts off quickly with ‘idiot’ following in English. You chuckle a little and his eyes brighten at your show of emotion towards him. Besides the subtle nudges of worry from before the attack, it was the only one you’d shown. His whole demeanor changed then, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the sudden beam of light. He was trying to hide his ear to ear smile as he shifted in place. You shake your head slightly and notice the two people that had been forgotten for a short moment. The man from before is quiet now as the girl talks to him in a soft voice. You motion Bucky over, and he leans down to your level.

“She needs to lie on her back. I’m going to pull it back into place.” Bucky gives you a single nod and begins talking to her in German. She stares at him in confusion but then as he explains it even more, she begins to nod her head in understanding reaching out to her boyfriend for assistance. He grabs her lifted hand and Bucky grabs her waist. Her boyfriend kneels beside her and the two exchange soft words that you don’t attempt to hear. Yes, there were things worse than what she was going through but what you were about to do wasn’t about to be as painless as she’d think. Besides the love that you could see when they looked at each other felt like you were intruding every time they looked at each other. When both men have settled, they both slowly lay her down onto her back, but your eyes don’t miss the flinch she gives once Bucky goes near her and her partner has stepped away. You slightly nudge Bucky out of the way and lightly grab her arm. You can see the gratitude in her eyes, and she tries to grab your hand most likely to thank you in the only way she knew how. You gave her a small nod and remained silent because somethings were better left unsaid. As you go through the steps you tell Bucky what you’re doing and in turn he translates. She doesn’t take her eyes off her partner the entire way as you begin to move her. Her arm is causing her a lot of pain, so your touches are featherlight. She is squeezing his hand and you take a lot of breaks to offer her some relief. Once her arm is outstretched towards you, you place your foot underneath where her shoulder is. You take a deep breath and without warning pull her arm at the same time as you push into her side. A loud pop sounds from her arm and you immediately stop pulling on her arm and let it sit on your lap. A blood curdling scream leaves her mouth and she begins to sob in pain. You can see her body shake as her free hand covers the tears that stream down her face. The three of you aren’t the only ones that heard her of course and a German soldier runs over to you all and starts yelling commands that you don’t understand. The girls companion starts responding to him much quieter than before most likely being careful with what he says. Even with the man explaining the soldier still has his eyes locked on you with a hatred you’d never seen before. It’s as if the soldier doesn’t care that you helped her and that she’d be better off in pain. You glare right back at him without a second thought before he turns his gaze away. He doesn’t respond to the boy before walking back to his post near the corner a few feet away from you. You let a breath you didn’t know you were holding in as he leaves the four of you alone on the courtyard again. You look down at the blonde girl who lies with her hair matted in blood from the concrete. She looks at you with a blank expression on her face that soon turns into gratitude. It’s not the first you’ve gotten but something about the way she put her trust in you makes your heart jump for joy. She lifts her arm into the air slowly but gives you a thumbs up, which in turn makes you laugh a little. She grins at you as you return her thumbs up right back and she looks away reaching out to her lover. He grabs her hands quickly and helps her to her feet. It’s a slow process as she slowly tries to get a handle on her pain tolerance, but eventually she stands up. She holds onto his hands to balance herself and gave her shoulder a roll. She let out a soft laugh in triumph and glanced over to where you and Bucky stood. Her eyes warm with happiness that would only last in the moment but were well deserved. She directed her eyes to Bucky and gave him a small smile as she spoke to him in German. You took the chance to finally look at the man who’d introduced himself to you. Here he was in the middle of a war willing to trust you and take care of all these people and be your assistant and he didn’t even know your name. You could tell by the hard built of his shoulders and the way his jaw tensed was because he was strong. Not in a physical way but in

a mental was as well. He could be one to give support and be just as willing to take it away. He was strong but not with many walls. He was determined but not without conscious. He was a good man. A handsome one at that you think before turning away and blushing. Here this man was helping you as a translator and you were thinking about how strong and physically built he was. You shake your head biting on your bottom lip to avoid the smile that wants to appear on your face.

“What have I got something on my face?” he jokes placing his bloody hands to his mouth. You shake your head but can’t help the small laugh that leaves your mouth. Even as a good guy who’d helped you save 20 people who were either bleeding or needed something fixing, he was a dork. The couple gives you a wave before walking off the courtyard towards the yelling Germans. It was time to go to your designated area. The cell of which you’d have to stay in until mealtime which would be in about an hour. As if on cue your stomach growls extremely loud and you place a hand over it. Usually you could hold your hunger over with some water, but it didn’t seem like there would be anything clean for a little while. The usual stream that came out of a hose was used to clean the victims’ blood away. You turned towards the hose where it had only on clean spot on the concrete. Today had been horrible and you knew there would be more days just like this to come. You still felt the ache for the people you couldn’t save and how their blood was still on your hands. You looked down at the floor and your eyes connected with the blood that covered your shoes. You felt the sudden urge to rinse it off and clean them with bleach, but you knew they would never truly leave. The stains would wash off physically, but it would stay with you forever and trap you in its horrors.

“Don’t let it scar you more than it already will.” He whispered into your ear. You didn’t have the strength for words as the day’s exhaustion hit you. You felt your knees buckle and Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist quickly, keeping you up. All the adrenaline was dying out and you could barely keep your eyes open as he attempted to have you walk. You couldn’t though and it made your feet hurt 10 times more. You groaned and forced him to stop for a minute. You were blinking rapidly as your vision faded in and out.

“I got you.” He murmured placing an arm under your knees and swooping you into the air. His arms pulled you closer to his chest and you placed a hand on your stomach. You wanted to say thank you, but the words wouldn’t come. You were burnt out of all your energy and your eyes lazily rolled over the man who was walking you across the courtyard. He looked straight ahead, and his gaze sharpened at the people who passed by. It was clear he didn’t trust the people around you. It wasn’t something anyone should ever give out willingly but the thought that he had given you such a fragile thing made your mind whirl with possibilities. You kept staring at him in wonder and you weren’t sure if it was from the lack of food and water, but you felt a sort of friendship growing with Bucky. He made you feel safe and he hadn’t abandoned you as you fell but instead, he’d picked you up. He’d let you work and hadn’t tried to take over either. Your hand gravitated towards his cheek and you held it there. Something about the action felt right and it comforted you. From what you saw it had the same effect on him. He looked down at you with a sincerity in his eyes and a small smile formed on his lips. It warmed your heart that you were able to get that reaction from him after such a long day and you couldn’t stop the smile you returned. He looked up and his gaze sharpened once more but there was something else displayed across his face. It was more lie… astonishment. You turned your head in confusion to see what had made him look such a way and you let out a small gasp. The area around the only source of water wasn’t crowded like it had been when you’d glanced at it. The people had made two lines directly to the water hose. You recognized these people as the ones you’d helped. Men and women who’d lost their loved ones and had found some broken but ready to be helped had stepped aside so that you could get some water.

“No.” you croaked nudging Bucky. You needed them to know you weren’t any special. You weren’t some savior. You’d been able to save them, but you couldn’t save your best friend and her siblings. That their ghosts still haunted you in the depths of the night. You began to squirm in his arms your energy suddenly making its way back into your body. He glanced down at you as you struggled to get down. He lowered your legs and planted them on the floor without a word, but his arm didn’t leave your waist. You were glad because if it weren’t for the support you were sure to fall. You pointed to the hose and Bucky nodded and began walking the two of you towards it. The area was clear as the people watched you from the sides. You could feel your terror rising as you looked to the guards that watched from afar. Your heart was beginning to pound with anxiety. You didn’t want another shoot out. Too many people had died already, and you wouldn’t let any more die. You urged Bucky forward and soon you reached the front to where the boy, Henry stands as his mother washes his wound. He looks up at you and gives you a small wave and begins tapping his mother. She looks up from her action with a look of annoyance, but it vanishes the minute she notices you. Her gaze softens and she smiles urging you forward. You kneeled beside them and murmured a silent hello as Henry proudly held back the torn-up pant leg. He was telling his maman in French about how he would be a strong boy and protect them both from harm. She said nothing but only let a smile and a few laughs through her tough exterior as she let you inspect the wound. There never was a lot of talking in the prison except for the quiet whispers between the terrified families. People weren’t the chatty types when they’d be kidnapped out of their homes and forced away from their families. You shook your head as images of Jews being thrown out into the street and onto a bus in your hometown flashes across your mind. Just like you couldn’t save Ciera and her siblings you couldn’t even save them. But you could save these people. Some part of you hoped that you could help push the everlasting guilt away, but you knew you would always feel that pain. So, you internalized it and turned to the wound on the boys’ leg again. The flesh surrounding the wound looked clean which was already a very good sign. You checked along his leg for any red lines that would travel up. It was a common sign of blood poisoning but seeing as he had none you knew he would be alright for the time being. If there were any of the blood red veins trailing along his pale skin, it would be a sign of infection and with no antibiotics would be the death of him. She pulls the pant leg away from the boy at your request because he dances away from your touch. He giggles because your touch is warm against his cold skin and you smile at her and her boy. Giving her the good news is probably a moment you’ll never forget as she wraps her arm around her son tightly. You can tell from the way she’s beaming at being able to stay with her son for more time means that in some way they’ll get through this together. It makes your heart jump for joy and you can’t help but let the happiness consume you. The mother hands her son to Bucky and he kneels on a rock nearby holding the child. At one point while the mother washes a wound you catch Bucky letting the boy squeeze his cheeks and pull at them every which way. He doesn’t let this stop him from tickling the boy and the sight is so pure that you’re smiling for the rest of the time. More and more patients leave to go towards their cells after you give them direct instructions. They all come to the water and you and the mother wash out their wounds and they walk away. It’s a process that soon you start to do without realizing how many people you’ve helped. Some were far worse than her son with multiple wounds that fill with blood at the touch. It takes a lot to break a person and seeing multiple scrapes and bullet wounds would make anyone sick. After about the 15th person she ran away to throw

up because of the smell of cooking flesh from the sun above. Bucky immediately took her place in helping you clean the wounds. You looked over at the woman in concern but found her son rubbing her back as they sat on the concrete holding each other. You felt for her because this scenario was nothing good or that pleasing to see. Knowing all these people were hurting and that the men who guarded you all watched from afar and refused to help was making you feel 20 shades of green. You wanted to just react at them. To hurt the people who were hurting all these innocents. You despised them and with each wound that began receiving care by your hands the hatred began growing bigger and bigger.

“Neutralize your expression. Showing you’re angry will upset the Nazis even more.” Bucky’s hushed voice interrupted your thoughts. You lift your eyes to meet his as you turn the faucet off and dab at the patient’s jacket to dry his wound. The confusion you felt must have been visible on your face because his eyebrows raise as his head jerks to his right. Your eyes slowly follow the trail to where a German soldier stands with his gun in his hands. His eyes stare directly at your actions as if you were a criminal about to attack.

“They’ve been watching the entire time. Through the cameras in the corners. They have orders to let us be but to shoot if they see anything wrong.” You immediately drop your expression and place a blank look on your face. Bucky’s nod confirms that your expression is fine and you both help the man who’d been stabbed on the right side of his chest. The panic of knowing you were being watched never quite faded so you dived deeper into doing whatever you could for the people’s wounds. He’d been lucky for the knife to not puncture his lung because if that had happened his lungs would have filled with blood and he would end up choking on his own blood. If that had been the case, there would have been nothing for you to do at least long term. You were slowly coming to realize that all those trips spent in the library studying the multiple medical books were coming to work out in your favor. Bucky calls out the information in which you’ve told him to tell the girl who accompanies the man. She nods vigorously before grabbing his hand and helping him walk over to the opening that leads to the cells where you all would be holed up. The prison inside of the prison. How ironic. You call out for the next person to step forward but are met with silence. You look to the previous line to be met with open space.

“Come here.” He urges. He’s kneeling in front of you from where you sit on the high-rise rock. You ignore the outreach of his bloody hand and you walk around him. He sighs as you reach down to the faucet. The cold water greets your fingertips and you don’t move away from it. Bucky taps your shoulder and you turn around to see what he needs. He’s staring at you like you’re the smallest child in the playground and that if you don’t listen, he’ll throw you in time out. He points to his raised knee and you scoff shaking your head.

“Either you do it willingly or I force you.” You shake your head again and he groans throwing his head back in mock pain. You giggle and lean forward to reach the faucet again but you’re swiped off your feet as hands grip your waist tightly. He sits you on his lap and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from falling. You whip your head around to glare at him because you’re certain he’s a mad man and he grins leaning towards the faucet. You let out a squeal and you grip his knees as he shifts back on the rock sitting you square between his legs. You know you look beyond pissed because he avoids your eyes. He’s still grinning though at your reaction as his hands release your waist and reach towards the faucet. You move your hands away quickly and lean forward with him, eager to get the remaining blood off your skin. Bucky turns the faucet to the left and water starts spilling from it. He tuts when your hands almost touch the water and he grabs your wrists. The interaction makes your skin tingle and interlocks your fingers with his. In that moment you feel the firs spread throughout your body. Everywhere he touches you sends a different burn straight to your heart. His chest presses against your back as he washes the blood off both of your hands. When he breathes you can feel it hit your ear and it makes the hair on your skin rise. His hands caress yours as they wash 30 or more people’s blood off. His fingers slide into between yours with ease that you watch in awe as your hands become yours again. Except with his hands on yours you aren’t exactly sure where he begins and where you stop. Funny thing is, you don’t ever want to figure it out. His fingers brush over yours and they move away too soon. Before you can grasp what you’re doing you grab his hands and start the same movements. You slide your fingers against his long ones and watch as they become his just as yours were yours. You hear Bucky’s breathing grow uneven and you look over your shoulder to see what’s wrong. His eyes immediately lock on yours and you can see something that you’d never seen on his face before. You can’t read it, but you know it’s something he tries to hide because his face becomes black once more and his hands move away from yours. You gasp softly at the loss of contact and swallow the complaint that tries to force its way out. The moment has disappeared, and you can feel the slight tinge of embarrassment floating its way through your senses. You wipe your hands on your pants and the sight of you and Bucky’s hands together burns itself into your mind. You know it shouldn’t be there, but your heart holds it close and locks it away for safe keeping.

“You ready?” he whispers. His hand lays on your stomach which does a flop at the sight of it and you nod not sure if you could even get through a full sentence without stuttering. You stand up and take a step away from him. You were trying to get a grasp on your emotions but the only thing you could focus on was how his scent no longer surrounded you. Your legs wobble as you try to walk but your knees give out. Bucky grabs your hand and pulls it around his neck.

“I don’t think I can walk.” You whisper. He doesn’t respond at first but you can tell he’s debating what to do.

“Hop on my back. I’ll carry you.” You nod slowly as you walk behind him and grab onto his shoulders. His hands wrap around your thighs and he pushes you up in the air. You jump and let your legs fall around his waist and let your arms hang loose over his shoulders. His figure shakes a little as he tries to steady you and start his long walk towards the open steel doors. You place your chin on his shoulder and let out a small sigh.

“My knight in shining armor.” You tease half heartedly and he laughs. The sound warms your bones more than anything else could and you don’t catch the small smile that spreads across his face as he starts walking towards the yelling Germans. It’s time for everyone to go back to their cells and if told once more there would be consequences. Your arms become heavy and feel like blobs of jello as they swing. You can feel yourself absentmindly snuggling into the warmth of the man carrying you, but it doesn’t register as your senses begin shutting down. You blink a few times as you stared down at the dog tags that swung on top of the green Henley that adorned Bucky’s chest. The faint sunlight disappears as he enters the prisoner compound and the room becomes dark. You lift your head up as shouts erupt around you. You catch people clapping and you have the urge to tell them to stop. Drawing attention of the soldiers wasn’t a good idea because they had just witnessed what happens when you cause a ruckus. You bury your head back into Bucky’s neck as you silently wish for the cries of joy to stop. Despite all the good you’d done you still couldn’t get over all the good you could have done so many years ago. Bucky senses your discomfort and starts to walk a little faster than before.

“Get some rest. You look like you could use it.” He says softly as a metal door creaks and it gets held open for the two of you. You nod slowly feeling your eyes shut again. You listen to him this time and let the exhaustion finally take over your body.

Tagging some peeps~@randomfangirl82 @stucky-my-ship @jules-1999 @starkssnarks @dallaswinstonswife1109@notsosecretspy @kyn-lyn-blog @alltoowell-taylorsversion@creecree-4-life

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theinvisibledreamergirl · 3 years

Text

She’s thunderstorms

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Helena Craig) x M!OC (Clay Banner)

Words count: 2.5 k

Warning: 🔞 content/Language

Category: Angst/AU

A.N: Part two of A Triangle of Love Series. Events after the Sweet dreams, TN fic. Helen is the alter ego of Klaw Craig. Feel free to judge me because now that I’m re-reading it… it’s bullshit and I don’t know what to call this. Especially the song it’s not fitting duhhh. Going to log off after posting it. *sighs*

Song: “She’s thunderstorms” - Arctic Monkeys

MASTERLIST

———————————————————————

She’s thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She’s thunderstorms

Bryce Lahela was right.

She’s like a goddess that entered to this building and blessed my life when I made eye contact with her.

Indeed a blessing.

She was the most incredible woman and everyone would take a bow just for her hand and fulfill all the wishes she wanted.

He couldn’t feel his breath in that short moment when they exchanged looks. Did someone pause his heart and his body? Because surely he had multiple questions as his mind drifted into thoughts.

When did she come here? How did she find him? Where did she work before coming here? Is she alone? But if not, who was with her? The hair colour and style had changed too. From the straight dark brown with bangs had gone into long, wavy light ash blonde hair that seemed to make her a different person.

But her face was still like he left it. Her arched brows that made her confident; captivating eyes with determination; full and inviting lips that always gave him chills when she crooked them into a playful smirk; her strong and beautiful jaw that tilted whenever he teased her or touched with such delicacy that made her gasp into pleasure; her long neck… without his necklace. He almost scoffed. Of course she had taken it off. What was he expecting?

Their bodies pining in the wall in ecstasy and hearing her sounds...

I’ve been feeling foolish, you should try it

She came and substituted the peace and quiet for

Acrobatic blood, flow concertina

Cheating heartbeat, rapid fire

Everything.

He wanted to do everything.

Anytime and anywhere.

With her and only her.

When he saw her hand shaking with another one... he felt a pit into his stomach and a familiar feeling came into his brain.

Mine.

She’s thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She’s thunderstorms

Here is your host, sounds as if she’s pretty close

When the heat starts growing horns

She’s thunderstorms

That greatly but destructive feeling called jealousy was in his veins. He wanted to reach out and twirl her around and to whisper to her:

I’m sorry and I really missed you.

Instead he came with slow and confident steps as if his imagination vanished quickly without so noticing and a small professional smile appeared in his face and she seemed to understand it. One more reason why he loves her.

“Ah Clay here you are,” Simon spoke breaking his trip of memory lane. “I want to present you Dr. Helena Craig the surgeon who’s going to replace Edgar for a while. Helen this is Dr. Clay Banner our future cardiothoracic surgeon.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Dr. Banner… I have heard a lot about you.” It seemed like a lifetime since he had heard her angelic voice that was a symphony in his ears. He held his tears from falling and coughed to fight the strangle voice that was about to let out.

“A pleasure to meet you too Dr. Craig and I can say the same thing about you.”

Something inside of Helen was igniting.

Her flame.

That old flame which burnt her into many pieces and toyed with her body all of those times sharing with him. She couldn’t say that she didn’t miss him. The real him. The one she fell in love with. His adoring face, his soft hands, his broad shoulders where she leaned on and his assuring voice when she felt insecure.

She had mastered perfectly the art of acting and pretending to be satisfied with everything in her life. Little did those people in the room know how her heart was aching miserably and was shattering from disappointment and hurt from the very same man that was just two feet away.

But a baritone and irritating voice seemed to cut off all of that momentary darkness which in fact she thanked him in silence. “Done with the introductions? Great. We’ve got work to do.” Ethan turned his back and started to write in the whiteboard. “The patient is from Manhattan Presbyterian…”

While Ethan was explaining the symptoms, Helen held a transfixed face to all of the theories of her attending and unexpectedly to other colleagues, she started to ask questions which resulted helpful despite being a surgeon. Sometimes she shared thoughts with Clay and even agreeing with them. It was part of the job after all and Clay couldn’t help but feel proud for his woman.

Correction: his ex.

A past tense that he had to learn from now on. But deep inside of him there was a spark of hope that maybe… maybe things would get back to normal. And maybe she would forgive him.

The team was finally dismissed but only two people stayed. Ethan called Helen before she would leave and that made Clay’s blood boiled because all he wanted was to talk to her right after this meeting. He had to try one last card even though it was useless.

“Dr. Ramsey can we talk for a moment?”

“Is there anything wrong Dr. Banner?”

“No j-just,” he stuttered. “Q-questions about the team in general.”

“We will but after I finish a discussion with Dr. Craig if you don’t mind.”

Fuck you.

“Not at all Sir.” He closed the door reluctantly and sighed in defeat.

“What’s the matter Dr. Ramsey?” She asked although she knew damn well why he had called her.

“What are you doing here?” Ethan clasped his fingers as if to stop whatever his mind was blowing now. His ears were still echoing with her words whispering softly.

Thank you for the distraction. I really needed it.

“Starting my job,” she said innocently and shrugged. “Is it irrelevant?”

“Yes, it is,” he nodded and his feet was carrying him over her; something inevitable that no matter what, he couldn’t stop. “I don’t think all of this is a coincidence.”

“Well lucky for you now you’ll have the most trustworthy person in your team that won’t let you down.”

He scoffed while shaking his head. “I highly doubt your confidence.”

“Just wait and see.”

I’ve already seen you.

After their encounter last night Ethan couldn’t sleep. Many times of trying to change and find the perfect position led to nothing but drinking in the balcony that even his dog Jenner didn’t like it and cooed sadly to his owner. What was this woman doing to him? Why he felt so weak in front of her that immediately wanted to bend her over to his desk and scream his name?

“So,” she crossed her arms behind her waist. “How was I?”

He frowned in confusion and god she thought to herself why he had to be such handsome even in that moment. “Hm?”

“In making you feel surprised.”

“Ah that. Well you’ve clearly exceeded my expectations.”

“Wow. So I rendered you speechless then.”

Giggles were ringing in the walls and for the first time in a while Ethan Ramsey smiled at that. It was something so natural that came from her as other people didn’t get his dry humour but she... she was different. It was like a magnet that more and more you get closer, the more attached you become to her.

She’s been loop-the-looping around my mind

Her motorcycle boots give me this kind of

Acrobatic blood, concertina

Cheating heartbeat, rapid fire

He cleared his throat in purpose of changing the subject. “The reason why I called you,” he put his hand in his front pocket to reveal a tiny and shining object that seemed familiar to her. “Does this belong to you?

“Oh my god yes! This is my earring!” Helen exclaimed shockingly while grazing it with her thumb. Apparently had slipped when she whispered in his ear. “I was looking it all over my room but I couldn’t find it anywhere.” Her gaze now was turned back to him in gratefulness. “Thank you.”

Without thinking she closed their distance by enveloping him into a hug. This caught Ethan off guard but now he returned the hug back and closed his eyes while inhaling her perfume. She did the same too and in that moment both of them felt safe on each other’s arms as if they knew where they belonged. The world around them didn’t exist for a few seconds and both of them despite not saying out loud, they wanted to continue it.

She’s thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She’s thunderstorms

“It’s nothing.” He smiled politely when they separated.

“No this is not nothing. I owe you because this earring was really special to me.” She inhaled slowly while considering an option. Taking some risk wouldn’t hurt her? Right? “What do you say uhm- a drink? In this case I can apologise for yesterday’s… thing.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.”

“Sure I have, because to be completely honest Dr. Ramsey… I knew who you were.”

And here he thought that she was just another stranger that thankfully didn’t know him. Now he was feeling raged and betrayed because that meant she wanted to impress him only by her appearance and make a spot here on his team. His authoritative voice came back as if to maintain the last straw of himself.

“You did know who were you talking to?”

“Yeah I did. Now I’m speaking to my attending,” she moved tantalising and confidently just like yesterday. “To my colleague. And,” then tilted her chin while saying. “To a possible friend.”

“For the latter dream on.” He warned her.

She laughed heartedly. “We’ll meet at Donahue’s at 9 PM sharply and don’t be late because I can’t wait more than two minutes.”

His eyebrows narrowed incredulously and crossed his arms to his chest. “I don’t remember accepting your offer. And besides… how do you know my agenda? What if I’m busy?”

“Well I don’t remember taking a no answer from you and I’ve got my sources about your special agenda.” She shrugged innocently. “See you tonight doctor.”

The door was closed but not before throwing a playful wink to him. He let out a laugh while shaking his head in disbelief. This woman was really crazy but it was one of a kind and Ethan Ramsey couldn’t wait to know more about her.

——————————————

Helen wasn’t surprised to see him waiting impatiently in the corner while she was talking with Dr. Ramsey.

What was so important that took them this long? He thought.

Actually that was only five minutes but to him it seemed like five hours already. When she got out he couldn’t help but stare at her not knowing where to start first.

“Helen.”

“Dr. Banner,” the plastered smile didn’t leave her face despite being furious and ready to wipe his ass in front of everyone. “You can go now to Dr. Ramsey. He’s free.”

“Actually, can we talk?” She rolled her eyes. “I won’t make you wait too much. I promise.”

Helen whispered only for the two of them to hear. “You and your promises,” a tackle of her tongue was heard twice. “Aren’t in coherence. I don’t know why should I listen to you. Let me guess- I’m sorry my Helen but I had to step in you to gain my spot here in Edenbrook thanks to my parents who are very powerful and influential people in Boston.”

“I-”

“I’m not finished,” her hardened gaze was evident and he knew he had to stop. “Or how you accepted without so much caring not one but two strange women in your bed while you were fucking drunk. That must’ve been a fruitful threesome huh? Why didn’t you try with a boy too? That would’ve been the cherry on top.” Her words were poisonous and she thought he deserved much worse than these. “Or how your mother has always tried to make me feel miserable in front of everyone when you did absolutely nothing to stop it. Not even moving your finger.”

In an unusual place, when you’re feeling far away

She does what the night does to the day

She was right about everything. He couldn’t disagree with any of the words she said. Helen Craig was rarely found to be wrong.

“I think that our conversation ends here Dr. Banner.”

He grabbed her elbow without thinking twice for his recklessness and made her narrow her eyes in annoyance. “Tonight at Donahue’s bar 9 o’clock and I will explain you everything.”

“Get off me or I’ll scream.” She warned dangerously.

“We both know you can’t.” Clay had no idea where this was leading but he could see the fire into her eyes. “You wouldn’t want people to find out that you had a boyfriend working here huh?”

Look at this prick starting to talk.

“Well well do you need a reminder that my father and my brother can make you beg for your life again?”

The last encounter with the Craig males was one year ago when they found out that this jerk had dumped the most precious thing of their family. Patrick Craig was the first to reach for the drawer to load his gun just in case whereas Brian her brother made sure to find Clay’s location with his advanced knowledge of technology. The end resulted in a bloody and a harsh fight between them and warning the latter to not come any centimeter closer to Helen. And the scar on his neck was still visible after that time.

“That happened once. It can’t happen again,” he grasped her out of his hand. “I’ll be waiting.”

With that he left the ultimatum settled in her hands and keeping it until 9 PM. Helen stayed still like someone had glued her in a position that she couldn’t escape.

She wouldn’t go.

No.

She wouldn’t hear him again and believe his words. But there was such a confidence in his voice that made her scared. Thanks to that she felt the anxiety rising up and panic for what was about to come.

She could easily cancel the plans with Dr. Ramsey and not go to that bar. But when she met him yesterday it felt something different with that share of eye contact.

Despite being half-drunk and exhausted from her flight he had made her forgetting all of her plans and the reason why she came in Boston. It was entirely a new world, a new dimension that she hadn’t explored yet and was eager to find more about this man.

It was unethical but did she care? Not in the slightest. Helen was ambitious and she definitely would possess it. She had to think of a plan how to sabotage this whole thing but how?

The choice she had to make was like a ticking bomb that in one way or another, was going to blast.

She’s thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She’s thunderstorms, thunderstorms, thunderstorms

—————————————————————-

TAGS WILL APPEAR IN A REBLOG!

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fan fiction #open heart fan fic #my mc #or better the alter-ego of #klaw craig #——>#helena craig #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #clay banner #clay banner x mc #triangle of love series #part two

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kappa-crossing · 3 years

Text

Now, for something completely different – I’m gonna tell you my favourite villagers of (most) species for no particular reason, and you’re gonna learn all about my weird-ass taste in villagers! I’ll leave out species where I don’t really have a strong favourite.

Anteaters

MY MAN OLAF

He’s on my New Horizons island and he’s such an icon, I love him so much. As far as I can tell, the General Opinion of him is that people either absolutely love him, or absolutely hate his guts. I am very much in the former camp

Bears

I guess Grizzly, if only because he was in both my Let’s Go To The City and New Leaf towns. He’s an absolute dad and I will not elaborate on that any further.

I also have a soft spot for Beardo, as shown in this tweet I made a while ago:

Bulls

Coach!!! He’s weirdly cute to me. His little dot eyes... his thicc eyebrows... his 5-o-clock shadow... He’s like a baby and a middle-aged man simultaneously. I love him.

Cats

STINKY! The one cat that no-one seems to give a shit about except for me. My man wears underwear on his head! What’s not to like?

Chickens

IDK, I like Ken. He looks like he could kill me in a second, and I respect him for that

Cubs

MY MAN VLADIMIR!!! I guess he’s what you’d call one of my “dreamies”? Because I really want to have him on my New Horizons island at some point. I just love this grumpy little man. Bright pink fur, single buck tooth, angy eyebrow, plus cranky is one of my favourite personality types... We will meet one day, my strange little friend 😭

Ducks

I like Joey. He’s adorable in an extremely simplistic way

I also like Freckles because she was in my New Leaf town

We stan a completely lifeless stare 😌💕💕 Absolutely nothing going on behind those eyes

Elephants

I feel like my past self would eviscerate me if I didn’t say Dizzy for this one. He was my absolute favourite when I played Wild World as a kid, I loved this guy so much and then he randomly moved out and young me had their first experience of heartbreak 😔💔 But he came back to me in New Leaf so it’s all good (only after making a candlelit shrine to him in my basement, of course)

But anyway, he’s cute

I also like Paolo, just look at that face, that’s the face of a man that’s about to steal the last chip off of your plate without a hint of hesitation

Frogs

There are SO MANY WONDERFUL FROGS. I really like just about all of them. Here’s a run-down of just a handful of them

Raddle, everything about him screams “poisonous”, but I would still trust him to do a life-saving surgery on me

Ribbot is an obvious robotic legend, he’s just very cool

Tad is just A Frog and I like that

And I have a strong, inexplicable love for Wart Jr.

Gorillas

MY GIRL ROCKET!!!

She was the most iconic part of my New Leaf town, I never thought I’d get so attached to her when she first moved in but I love her so much

I trust her with my life

Hamsters

Clay, I love this weird little baby, one of my favourites in my New Horizons island. The inspiration for his design is pretty interesting too 👍

Mice

This is a hard one. I really like Rod (was in my New Leaf town), Broccolo (absolutely adorable), Candi (is on my New Horizons island), Limberg (cranky but cute little man with a five-o-clock shadow, love it), and Samson (Just A Mouse)... but today I want to talk about our cheesy lad Chadder

This is another one that I want on my New Horizons island at some point, I think he and Olaf would clash wonderfully. 😆 His simple little face... his bright green nose... his fancy tuxedo... the fact that he seems to be entirely made out of cheese... I love this guy so much. I just hope that Clay won’t take a bite out of him if he moves to my island 😔

Octopi

Octavian is just good. I don’t have any further explanation. I like him.

Ostriches

Sprocket is cool, just like all of the robotic villagers

Pigs

Kevin’s cute. I’m now realising that I seem to have a thing for villagers with little dot eyes

Maggie and Truffles fall into the same sort of category

Side note: I feel like Kevin and Maggie could be brother and sister or something, they look quite similar 🤔

Rabbits

SNAAAAAAAAAAKE!

That is all.

Rhinos

Spike, he’s another one that’s on my New Horizons island, he’s my cranky but soft-hearted grandpa and I love him dearly, that’s about it really

Sheep

This one’s a bit more of a deep cut, but I really like Woolio from the first game (and the various Japanese versions of it). He’s the coolest sheep you’ll ever see.

This dude would definitely be a smug villager if they brought him back (he was a jock originally)

Squirrels

I don’t really have a favourite squirrel, but I want to give a special shout-out to Ricky. He has a very unique, funny-looking face and I love that for him

Also, apparently his picture quote is “You gotta break a few shells to get the nut” and I have the maturity of a 5-year-old and so the mere utterance of the phrase “the nut” makes me titter like a schoolchild

And that’s about it, I guess. Just wanted to give some love to the more under-appreciated villagers, because those tend to be my favourites 🥰

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weasleydream · 3 years

Text

i got to say goodbye

okay so i’m really emotional with this one, i don’t know if you’ll be too but i really wanted to write this moment.

As usual, feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

Masterlist

Fifty years. It’s something, isn’t it?

We’re used to hearing that a lot happens in a day, so how could we describe what happens in fifty years? Maybe it depends on the person. Maybe some would say things aren’t that different, same places, same people, only a few more wrinkles and memories. Maybe for others, life couldn’t have gotten more different, feeling like an eternity for them, barely remembering what days used to be, forgetting more and more about their childhood friends and simple things such as the portraits in Hogwarts’ corridors.

On any other day of the year - or even of the last fifty years - I would have answered I was part of the first category. To me, getting old was the most normal thing, or so it had become. Everything that had happened from funding a family with George to officially letting our little Freddie run the shop in Diagon Alley, all of it had seemed to be written somewhere. No matter how heartbreaking things could be, deep inside I was convinced it was how things were supposed to happen.

But today wasn’t like any other day of the last fifty years. Today was different, an anniversary the whole wizarding world had prepared for, an anniversary I wished with all I had life hadn’t given us a reason to celebrate it. Today, George and I, along with plenty of other wizards and witches, had been invited to celebrate the fifty years of the battle of Hogwarts and the fall of Voldemort right in this castle we had loved so much. Plenty of the people we had fought with weren’t here anymore. Plenty of them didn’t want to come back, still haunted by green lights, screams and explosions. George was among them. More than anyone else, he had refused to put a foot in these corridors he had known so well so many years ago.

“What do you want me to say?” he had replied when I had asked him if he wanted to come. “That those who died were heroes? That they are still missed today? We know that, Y/N. Those who fought with us know that and the others don’t care. It isn’t worth it, it isn’t worth the pain.” he had added in a whisper.

But I knew it was worth it, because back then I thought it was written too. We had lived long enough to see this day, it had to mean we had to go to the ceremony, right? I had eventually convinced George by constantly arguing with him and he had finally accepted because in fifty four years of love, my stubbornness had become way too much.

That’s how we had ended up walking between the forbidden forest’s trees, where we were currently. Written or not, neither of us was ready to actually enter the castle that had been our second home for seven years. What if it had changed so much we didn’t recognize it anymore? Worse, what if it was still the same and we discovered we were nothing more than strangers between these walls?

The forest was another place full of memories, most of them quite painful and bittersweet as they were filled with people we loved and we had lost, but it was the good kind of pain. The one that leads you to smile sadly before laughing frankly, the one that at first you don’t want to feel but once it’s here, you open your arms and ask for more.

George and I were both silent, holding hands like we used to when we were younger. Sometimes, one of us would stop and close their eyes, overwhelmed by strong memories, and the other would wait and remember too, only for a moment, how we used to be. George was now an old man, and I was an old lady. His hair wasn't that bright red I used to adore anymore, it was more dull, strewn with white strands. His eyes, even though they still had their famous sparkle, were showing more and more tiredness as the years went by. His hands were more calloused too, his once soft skin burnt by countless failed attempts to create the perfect product for the shop. Like mine, his face was wrinkled and he always used to joke on the first of April about where the freshly appeared wrinkle was hiding. And like mine, his shoulders were hunched.

Maybe it was the special atmosphere of the forest, maybe it was the memories I had forgotten and slowly remembering again, maybe it was all of this or none of this or it didn’t matter, fact is that I was realizing how wrong I had been for fifty years. Our shoulders weren’t hunching underneath the weight of the years but the weight of the war we had gone through. If we struggled that much to keep our eyes open, it was because we didn’t want to see more horrors. It wasn’t the people we had gone through so much with that we were forgetting, but the pain we had felt when we had lost them.

If our lives were really written somewhere, the author had been quite cruel with us.

“Are you okay? Do you want to go back home?”

George’s voice suddenly echoed and I opened my eyes. As it seemed, I had been lost in my thoughts for more than a second.

“No, don’t worry, it’s fine. Unless you want to leave, of course.”

“I’ll be okay.”

He smiled softly and for a second, I saw the goofy boy that had asked me out before the Yule Ball, and I couldn’t help but also think about his twin brother laughing at our clumsy steps and our red cheeks. Even if he had been gone for fifty years, the memory of him was still strongly implanted in us and when we had decided to name our first son after him, it was to make sure no one would ever forget him. Fred Weasley, first of the name, the most big-hearted and idiotic man this world had known.

“I miss him,” whispered George. With the years, he had learnt to stop crying when mentioning his twin, but his eyes would always carry the pain he felt deep down. “It’s been so long, yet I still feel the hole he has left.”

“I know Georgie,” I said while stepping toward him. “I know. But, you know, I feel like he’s right here, next to us.”

“And making fun of our sappiness.” added George with a chuckle.

“Probably, yes!”

George nodded and looked away, grabbing my hand with more strength than earlier. We kept walking for some time, not really caring about the fact that the actual ceremony had probably begun by now.

“You know how I know I’m getting old?” I asked half an hour later, as we were sitting on rocks along the creek.

George looked up to me, this playful look in his eyes showing me he was ready to say anything stupid that would cross his mind.

“The wrinkles? The sagging skin? I know, the-”

“Your skin hangs more than mine!” I said, falsely offended. “I was talking about the fact that I’m exhausted and it hadn’t even been an hour and half since we arrived.”

“Tell me about it, I feel like my back is going to break in two!” As if to address it, George stretched his back and several crackings were heard. “I’m still more in shape than you, though.”

I was on the verge of replying when a soft thump echoed and cries of distress arrived in our ears. I jumped on my feet - as quickly as my tired legs let me, of course - and followed George to where the noise was coming from. We discovered an empty bird nest, and a few inches away a tiny nestling calling for help.

“The poor baby!” I exclaimed. “Come here little one, I’m going to help you.”

I grabbed my wand and changed a stick found on the floor into a sort of little board. There were feathers all around the nest; George put them back in so that the nestling would be comfortable and I helped the baby bird come back in the nest with the board. Then I made it levitate to the branch above our heads and watched satisfied as the mother of the nestling came back and checked on her baby.

“What is this?” mumbled George.

I looked at him. He was holding a pebble in the palm of his hand. With a finger, I turned it again and again, it had a strange shape and was really smooth and I was pretty sure it wasn’t just a pebble. I was going to say it was really weird when he appeared.

“It’s been a while, brother.”

It was a reflex. I tightened my hand around George’s, too afraid he would let go of the stone. He wasn’t thinking about it at all though. His eyes were fixed on Fred, on his shape that looked more than real. His face was still the same, he was still the same. Tall, his hands stuck in his pockets, his hair messy and his eyes shining. George extended an arm, his hand a few inches away from his brother’s chest. Fred sighed and a crooked smile appeared on his face. George’s hand didn’t go further away.

“I’m glad to see you, Georgie. I missed you.”

“I- Me too, I missed you too. So much.”

“I missed you too, Y/N/N.” Fred winked at me and I nodded, sure that I would explode in sobs if I said anything.

His eyes fell back on George, and they exchanged one of these looks they were the only ones to understand. George’s hand was tense in mine, as if he was holding tight onto me not to get lost on what had always been his biggest dream.

“That beard looks great on you,” finally said Fred with a smirk. “Almost better than the one I had after we tried to cheat to enter the triwizard tournament. You remember?”

“Of course,” murmured George. “It was stupid to try that.”

“I don’t think so.” Fred shrugged and took a step toward us.

The atmosphere changed instantly, and what was feeling like a dream became the most real feeling we would ever experience. Fred’s aura was pure, the same as it had always been but so much stronger that it was enveloping us.

“I’ve been here every step of the way Georgie, and you know I’ll be until the end. Love you, brother. Say hi to the family to me, would ya?”

George nodded, murmured a shaky I love you too, see you soon brother, and opened his hand just enough to look at the stone. I knew he wanted to keep it, I wanted it too, but I didn’t realize that the twins didn’t share this view.

“It’s incredible…” began George.

“But dangerous.” finished Fred.

He smiled, and George closed his eyes.

The stone fell on the floor, and the forest became as silent as it was before. My eyes were fixed on the stone when George murmured.

“At least I got to say goodbye.”

He looked at me, there was a tear on his cheek that he didn’t bother wiping away, but he was smiling more brightly than in the last fifty years. He didn’t need to justify himself, I knew the tale of the three brothers too and I knew the resurrection stone was dangerous. We had to keep it hidden here, where even us would be unable to find it again. After an undetermined amount of time, George grabbed my hand again.

“I think it’s time for us to get in the castle.”

I nodded and followed him, the image of Fred still engraved in my mind.

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