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maxipad032 · 1 year

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homesick

synopsis: you’re staying in wakanda for research work with your girlfriend shuri, but it’s nearly christmas and you’re greatly missing your home in america, so she makes you feel better about it.

contains: fluff, shuri x american black reader, christmas, suggestive language, cuteness overload

usana - baby (someone requested this on the @maxipad031 account, i hope you see this x)

“hey y/n ?”

you’re snapped out of your thoughts and look to your left as shuri is standing at the doorway of her bedroom with a glass of milk placed on a tray, looking at you worryingly.

“you’ve been out of it the whole day, are you okay baby?” she asked, concerned about your abnormal behavior. you do admit you’ve been zoning out for the last hour after you woke up, but it’s because you can’t stop thinking about your family back home. it’s one week until christmas, and you’d never been away from home this long but your work with shuri was taking longer than you both expected so you had to be here to finish the research. obviously, you loved spending time with shuri as you normally didn’t get to since you lived all the way in america, but you couldn’t help but miss them. it didn’t help that your mum kept on sending you messages about how your siblings missed you greatly.

shuri slowly walked to you and sat on the bed, putting the tray on the drawer besides the bed and lifting your hand up to rub it gently as she lovingly looked at you. you nodded your head, “yeah i’m fine, just thinking about back home.” you give her a crooked smile and yawned, giving your legs their well deserved stretch.

“ah, of course it must be hard, you’ve been away for three months now.” shuri agreed, placing a soft kiss on your hand, “also i must inform you that we probably won’t be done till after christmas.”

“what? but i promised my ma i’ll be back by then.” with an upset expression, you looked at her, sulking greatly as you looked forward to being with your cohort back home. christmas in chicago, especially with all of your family was just amazing and you didn’t want to miss it this year. shuri nodded, “i know, i know, but don’t worry i’ll make it worthwhile.” shuri smiled brightly, stroking your face with her thumb. you couldn’t possibly be mad at her, so you looked away and grinned, “whatever ri.” suddenly, a cool breeze washed over your newly braided hair and you whipped your head around to see shuri flying off with your bonnet, “aye! come back here stupid!” you yelled jokingly as you reached out to her, nearly tripping and falling on the black duvet as you jumped off the bed and ran after shuri down the palace hall. you caught her obviously and grabbed her pyjama collar as you both went tumbling down onto the smooth wooden floor. with vengeance, you climbed on top of her and snatched your silky bonnet from her fingers, placing it back on your head where it rightfully belonged,

“bitch, you can’t run from me.” you said with a cocky grin, sticking your tongue out at shuri. shuri laughed loudly as she looked down and smirked at the position you both were in. she calmed down to stare at you, taking in your natural beauty that shined even more as you just woke up. her hands had minds of their own and shamelessly reached up your body, trying to make it up inside the hem of your navy blue crop top. surprised, you slapped them off, “excuse me, anyone could see us.” you anxiously looked around and tried to get off of her, but she didn’t let you and kept you stationary with both hands holding your waist. annoyed, you leaned down to get a closer look at her, her eyes were glued to your lips and you could see how whipped she was for you, “let go of me stink.” you whispered, smiling against her lips as you were about to kiss her beckoning lips, until you heard a quiet cough come from in front of you both. frozen, you looked at who it was and shuri, who was on the ground, looked back to see the feet of queen ramonda. you hurriedly got off of her, getting up on your feet and shuri did the same thing, avoiding eye contact with her mum in embarrassment and bowing a good 90 degree angle.

“mother, good morning, we’re sorry-” shuri started as she scratched the back of her head awkwardly.

“don’t apologise, it’s young love, i understand.” she flashed a friendly smile at the both of you and continued her journey past you two, who were still bowing as you were caught red handed, “oh and shuri, the house is ready.” she announced, waving goodbye at the both of you.

your face twisted in confusion, “what house?” you looked at shuri but she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. you weren’t buying it and you continued to pester shuri but she wouldn’t say so you just gave up.

“sh, let’s go get ready, we have stuff to do.” she said ambiguously, skipping back to the room you both just came from. sighing at your defeat, you followed behind but you were a bit excited to see what she had planned. shuri and surprises went hand in hand because she was always extra as hell when it came to doing things for you. to be honest you didn’t mind it at all, but felt bad because you were not able to grant the same attention back. she told you all the time to not worry, but it always lingered at the back of your mind.

“let’s see what she’s done this time.” you muttered under your breath, closing the bedroom door and heading to the bathroom as shuri rummaged bodily through the clothes in her messy closet.

~~~

the cold breeze hit your face mercilessly at all angles as you trudged through the crunchy snow beneath you. your teeth chattered as your body temperature was slowly dropping, “are we nearly there yet?” you asked impatiently, adjusting your wool scarf that was slipping off your neck.

“yep.” shuri replied, walking alongside you with both of your suitcases in each of her hand. you were both alone as shuri commanded the dora not to follow her as she wanted the trip to feel as authentic as possible. the mountains looked pretty but the chilly weather was almost unbearable and you couldn’t wait to just get the the house already. you huffed in annoyance, and continued to follow shuri as small snowflakes dropped from the sky. the mountains, with white crests, stood tall and surrounded the area. before long, you could see a cottage coming into view and that’s when it clicked; that’s the house queen ramonda was talking about,

“is that it shuri?” you asked excitedly as you pointed to the house in the distance.

“no.” she replied.

“what?” you were confused, where were you going then?

“i’m joking, of course it is.” shuri let out a small laugh at how gullible you were, and watched as you raced off excitedly towards the cottage, leaving her behind to carry all your stuff. she shook her head and followed you up ahead. you obviously reached the entrance before her and whilst you waited, you observed the house. it looked brand new, like it was just renovated. it was big but still quite small, a perfect home for two people. but most of all, it resembled your house back home apart from the fact yours was more modern but it gave off the same vibes. soon after, shuri climbed up the brown wooden steps behind you and dropped the stuff with a grunt as she stretched her back,

“sorry baby, just got a lil excited.” you admitted, feeling guilty that you made her carry all the stuff all the way from the royal palace to the mountains,

“it’s okay darling, anything for you.” she gave you that iconic eye smile and took the keys from her coat pockets to unlock the dark brown oak door. the latch unlocked and she opened the door to darkenss. she took the first step in and reached next to the door inside to the right and when she felt for light switch, she switched it on. at that moment, the whole place came lit and you looked over shuri’s shoulder, mouth agape at how picturesque it looked. many types of christmas decorations hung nearly everywhere, tinsel along the walls and colorful lights surrounded the area. little metal reindeer’s were lined up on top of the fire place along with those large black and red socks and snow globes.

shuri stepped away from the doorstep so you could walk in, and then she took your stuff inside and shut the door behind.

“shuri, this looks unreal.” you commented, as you examined the place; every corner was something new to look at and you knew shuri ordered it to be like this.

“you think?” shuri took her dark purple gloves and shoved them in her jacket pocket, taking it off and hanging it on a clothing rack next to the television. whilst you were still stuck in awe, shuri came up behind you and proceeded to pull down your coat zip and take it off for you so she could also put it on the clothing rack. a large white christmas tree sat in the corner by the tv and fireplace, the baubles hanging loosely as two presents sat below it in a fashionly order.

shuri stood proudly as she admired the product of what her idea was. you turned around to face her with a fat smile on your face and ran up to her, jumping up to hug her tightly. she caught you with her arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you both steady so you didn’t fall down. you wrapped your hands around her neck and leaned down to pull her into a passionate kiss. she eagerly reciprocated with equal excitement until you both needed air in which you pulled away and hugged her once again.

“you’re welcome.” she said as she dropped you back down onto the brown carpet. you slipped off your winter boots, exposing your santa socks and flung off your wooly scarf as you walked around to closely inspect each and every ornament, “wow, i wonder how much this all was.”

“don’t even worry.” shuri smirked and walked towards the kitchen, “are you hungry?”

“nah…” you replied, as you sat down in front of the fireplace, “how do you turn this on?” you asked as you looked for a solution to your question.

“hmm.” shuri came towards you and pressed an almost invisible button on the side of the fireplace, which caused a large uproar of flames to come out of nowhere. you jumped back but slowly smiled and watched how it crackled and popped. shuri walked towards the luggage and picked it up, “i’m going to put this upstairs babe.”

“mkay.” you replied, as you got up to go sit on the soft light brown sofa in the centre of the living room. the house was so cozy and the perfect cure to your homesickness. it perfectly copied how your house would look like on christmas when your family came to spend it with you. you had no idea how shuri had managed to do this, but she stays doing life changing things for wakanda so this was probably a walk in the park for her. you couldn’t ask for anything better and it made you fall even more deeply in love with her by the second. you pulled out your phone from your jean pocket and navigated to your mums contact where you called her. it rang a few times but she eventually picked up,

“my child, are you alright?” she asked, wondering as to why you called her out of the blue.

“yes mother, i’m fine i just wanted to call you to say i won’t be back ‘till after christmas.” you would still rather spend it with her but you really didn’t mind anymore, missing one year wouldn’t hurt.

“ohh, that’s a shame, we were really looking forward to you coming back.” you could hear the disappointment in her voice,

“i know ma, but i’ll be back right after don’t you worry.” you reassured her.

“okay y/n, take care of yourself and thank shuri for talking care of you also.”

“of course i will.” you smiled at the fact she mentioned shuri. you haven’t told her that you’re both dating, but she knows about your sexuality and you regularly talk about her, like all the time so i think she gets the hint. with that, you ended the call and held your phone to your chest, just over the moon that you heard your mothers nostalgic voice again. shuri came downstairs at the same time and sat down next to you on the sofa.

“who was that?” shuri inquired as she leant back into the sofa.

“my ma, i was just telling her that i’ll be back after christmas.” you replied, sighing as you set your phone down onto the arm of the coach and cozied up besides shuri. she wrapped her long arms around your frame and brought you closer into her embrace which simply made you melt. the living room was warming up gradually and felt much more comfortable and homely. you looked up at shuri and she looked back at you, smiling before she peppered your face with little pecks before kissing your plump lips once more. you giggled and buried your face in her neck; she smelt so nice, like all the flowers in the world as one single scent.

“let’s watch home alone.” shuri suggested, grabbing the remote from the small coffee table. you nodded profusely as that was your favorite christmas movie, you’ve watched it like 10 times. she switched on the television, and went on disney plus where the movie was located, then she hit play. you shifted into a more comfortable position and pulled the thick folded blanket from the back of the couch down onto the both of you.

“switch off the main lights.” shuri commanded to some ai in the house, and the yellow lights immediately switched off, leaving only the christmas lights glowing glamorously. some natural blue light shone in from the balcony windows, which added further to the holiday vibe.

“this is going to be an amazing christmas..” you thought, snuggling further into the blanket as shuri had a firm arm around you, and the opening credits of the movie started to roll.

~~ one week later ~~

“wake up!” excitedly, you shook shuri violently to wake her up from her deep slumber. she stirred and groaned as she tried to face away from you and pulled the cover over her face like that’ll stop you from bothering her. you simply pulled it down and turned her body to face you, “come on baby, it’s christmas!” you squealed, as you jumped out of the double bed and went to the window to look out of it. everything was calm and mundane outside, the palace of wakanda was in the far distance and the sunrise was a nice pink and blue gradient as dawn was setting.

shuri fumbled the sheets and rubbed her eyes with her arms, she wasn’t a morning person if you could tell. you left her to get up on her own and went downstairs to the kitchen, turning on all the lights you came across. you wrapped your fluffy robe around your body since it was a bit chilly, but you turned on the fireplace and some electric heaters.

shuri walked down the stairs sluggishly and wondered how you were so alert with so much energy at like 7am in the morning. you didn’t wait to switch on youtube on the tv and blast your favorite christmas song, all i want for christmas is you. if there were people living besides this house, they’d probably be complaining by now at how loud it was. you took shuri’s hand and tried to convince her to dance with you by moving her around;she was still sleepy but she made an effort.

“more than you could ever know, make my wish come true, all i want for chorus’s is you!” you sang as shuri twirled you and followed your steps. your hyper energy seemed to be absorbed by shuri and this moment between the both of you was so cute, and something you’d been dying to share with her. shuri started to get into it and boogie with you as the song progressed.

“damn, get it.” you laughed and held your stomach as shuri was busting it down, and you soon joined her with your own special moves. as the song came to an end, you pulled shuri’s hand which brought her closer and looped your hands around her neck as you both waddled side to side whilst chuckling at your silly behaviour.

“merry christmas usana.” shuri booped your nose with her finger and used it to bring your chin up before kissing you.

“oh, morning breath.” you said, turning your head away and scrunching your nose in a humorous manner, which made shuri scoff and push you playfully. you laughed whilst stumbling and held her hand, “i’m just joking, let’s go get ready.” she shook her head at you and followed you upstairs.

the rest of holiday consisted of you both doing many activities such as baking cookies, building gingerbread houses, watching more movies, following recipes, dancing to christmas music, snowball fights, and last but not least, visiting the wakandan city to celebrate christmas with the community. honestly, it was just unforgettable and you even considered coming back next year as well. it made you completely forget about your family back home, which made you feel guilty, but you made sure to facetime them at the end of the day to see what they’d been up to. the whole experience had strengthened your relationship with shuri and you just couldn’t wait to see what the future held.

eek im dying, so cute

#shuri udaku #shuri #mcu shuri #letitia wright shuri #shuri fanfiction #shuri imagine #shuri x reader #shuri x you #shuri fluff #princess shuri #black panther wakanda forever #wakanda forever #shuri x y/n #wlw #lesbian #fluff #christmas #holiday special #maxipadanswers

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weepinglavanders · 11 days

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Do You Care PT5

TW! GORE, DEATH, ABUSE, TALK ABOUT ABUSE! !!READ WITH CAUTION!!

Info: Italics in large chunks are flashbacks, almost all triggering details are in the flashbacks! If I have missed any other warnings please let me know so I can add them in later♡

Pain washed over Alastor, knees skinned and his nose bleeding on to his blue shirt. He looked up at the mad man above him, belt in hand. His knuckles were smeared with Alastor's blood and he saw it drip on to their carpeted floor as he clenched his fists. The boy scrambled to his feet, stumbling to the side right as his father went to struck him with the leather, the arch of the material going down and skinning the side of his calf.

His mom had gone out for groceries only ten minutes before his father had come home from work. The man set a course almost immediately to the downstairs fridge, drinking his beers until he was just drunk enough to not feel bad when he went upstairs to take the day's frustrations out on his nine year old son. It started with talking outside of the boy's door, sounding disappointed and sad, coxing Alastor to open the door.

He had, not out of concern or innocents, but because he knew hiding and ignoring him would only worsen the blows. He was grabbed by the collar of his shirt seconds after and shoved into the wall, the screaming starting. The had somehow made it downstairs to the living room as the two danced, his father advancing as Alastor fled.

Now he was cornered, unspent tears burning his eyes as he tired to focus on his father, his glasses broken slightly. Then they frozen as the both heard one of the brown paper bags hit the floor as his mother dropped it, seeing her husband, hand raised to struck again with his belt, and her son bloody and quivering.

"...Alastor, come here my love."

His mother whispered in a cold voice, eyes never leaving his father's face. He stumbled over to her, trying to ignore his pain, not wanting his mother to worry more about him.

"Amiyah-"

"Save it you drunken bastard. Look what you've done to our boy!"

His mother cupped her soft, warm hands on Alastor's face, stroking her thumb gently under the new shiner his father had just given him. She tilted his head down gently and kissed the top of it before making the boy look at her.

"Go pack your clothes little deer and go to the car."

"What- Amiyah you can't leave me!"

"I can and I am, I am sick of this!"

Alastor quickly ran upstairs, hurriedly packing before doing the same for his mom, getting half way down the stairs when he heard a loud noise and his mother crying out in pain. He raced down to the door, seeing pieces of their blue vase scattered on the floor, his mothers forehead bleeding violently as his father yelled and then...silence.

There was only the buzzing in his ears as everything else went mute, he dropped the bags, sneaking up behind his father and grabbing a piece of the stained glass vase, crouching down before driving the shard into his father's ankle and slicing it up to his knee at full force. Blood sprayed out on to Alastor, barley feeling the warmth or hearing the man's scream of pain as he collapsed, all Alastor knew was how nice it felt to know the blood on his body wasn't his own.

He wouldn't allow it to be his every again.

Alastor was pulled out of the memory as the small noise of pain that came from beside him. He blinked and looked over to see Lucifer, eyes squeezed shut in pain. The two had compromised on holding hands, it was enough contact to help heal him using Lucifer's angelic power while keeping Alastor comfortable.

It took him another second, however, to realize that when he had been remembering his past he had clenched so tightly on to Lucifer's hand that the pale skin was turning a soft gold color as the blood was squeezed and rushed into his hand. He had also closed his hand so tightly that the tips of his black nails had drawn some of the angelic blood from the other's hand. He un-clenched his hand, flecking it softly as he pulled away as the sudden ache of stiffness filled the joints.

"I'm sorry about that, I seemed to have zoned out!"

He hummed cheerfully as he smiled widely, Lucifer only rolling his eyes as he rubbed his crushed hand, the punctures healing up quickly. He hadn't done anything to tell Alastor to stop though when he was hurting him. He tucked that piece of information away for later.

Suddenly he realized that he could only feel a small amount of pain instead of the gut wrenching agony he was feeling earlier. He looked down and frowned a little, the gash was still widely open but the black liquid was gone and now he was only reduced to red blood pooling out with the edges of the wound still looking slightly infected.

"Are you really so lonely you could only focus on holding my hand? What the hell were you doing that whole time, nothing has changed!"

"Oh piss off you ungrateful dickbag, I cleared the infection. That would've killed you in the next few hours if I hadn't."

Lucifer crossed his arms.

"Oh wonderful! Half credit, have a gold star. "

Alastor rolled his eyes, using a line he'd heard from Husk which really seemed to tick of the little king. He started wrapping his chest again and stopped the trickle of blood, his eyes turning to radio dials for a second as he saw the color.

"Hope you die a bitch."

Lucifer hissed, flipping Alastor off as he grabbed his hat and coat, only then realizing that Lucifer had a tail and floppy goat ears, horns circling behind them as they curled like a neater version of a great horned sheep. He opened his mouth to say something but right as he was about to the trap door slammed shut and he was alone again, only the soft buzz of static filling the room.

He did feel better even if the healing portion had been half assed even with the unpleasant contact. His hand still tingled weakly at the ghost of a presence, causing Alastor to shake it softly as he paced.

Lucifer fell on to his bed, it was about one in the morning now, he'd been out there for two hours..

And no one came looking for you~

He shook his head, snapping his fingers and having his clouthes morph into a duck sweater and yellow plaid pajama pants. They were light weight and comfortable so he didn't feel trapped in them when he rolled over.

He stared at the wall and drummed his fingers on the mattress. He'd never had the best record with sleep schedules since he arrived in hell but it seemed to have gotten worse over the lonesome years away from Lilith.

"Useless as a king."

Alastor had called him that and he full heartedly agreeded. Once the kingdom was established Lilith excused him of almost every task the crown had to do. He'd try to understand and learn but she'd etheir yell or tell him it wasn't important. Now he knew very little about his kingdom and he was sure that his dear daughter thought he was a worthless fool.

He burrowed his face into his hands, tears welling up. She'd grown up seeing her dad 'ignore' his kingdom and dreams, sticking to making items that comforted him. She probably thought he was an idiot.

Lucifer's knees tucked up to his chest as he sobbed quietly into his hands, ignoring how one of his horns snagged on a pillow, tearing it. He didn't want to think about how other's saw him but as he heard Lilith's demeaning words he slowly heard Alastor's trickle in as well.

Laughter filled his head, the seven holy virtues pointing at him as he backed up to the pit of internal damnation. Spears slid through him like he was made of water and he fell in, wings and hands catching on Hell's fire as he tried to slow his fall and protect Lilith, their eyes seeming to follow him all the way down and the echo of there laughter still ringing fresh in his ears.

He'd slammed into the ground then, scorched wings and arms around his beautiful wife as he softened her landing. Gold blood oozed around him, his bones painfully melding back together as he laid there.

He gently placed a hand to the center of his chest, where one of the scars laid. Even angels cant fully recover from angelic weapons.

He sighed weakly, grabbing a duck plushie and hugging it to his body tightly, waiting for sleep to over take his thoughts.

Alastor managed to warp to his new room in the hotel with the little bit of healing Lucifer had managed. He finally was allowed to show and change his bloody clothes after a day and a half being stuck in his radio tower.

He closed his eyes and rested till morning.

The two woke up, their paths meeting in the kitchen as the two insomniacs got their coffee. Lucifer glanced at the overlord and coughed pointedly before asking;

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"I was wondering if we could-"

Alastor quickly covered his mouth, radio feedback screeching as he glared a little.

"Don't talk about that here! "

He hissed and Lucifer rolled his eyes,

"You and your damn reputation. Where do you want to talk to me then?"

"My room, after breakfast."

Alastor huffed, wiping his hand off, making the little goat king snear. The two turned away from eachother silently, going back to their coffee.

After breakfast the two man warped to Alastor's room, the king gracefully sitting in an armchair as Alastor stumbled in, a wave of pain going through him.

"Has it gotten worse? Maybe we can try healing it again."

"Why do you care so much"

Lucifer blinked as Alastor hissed at him, a guarded and almost disgusted look on his face. He frowned, because he really didn't know. He didn't like Alastor, barley tolerated him, but yesterday something had reverse his brain when he saw that terrified look in Alastor's face. Alastor had been human, had been hurt, and his heart ached in sympathy.

But he couldn't say that so he just sighed quietly and looked at the fireplace instead on the man's face.

"I don't really know... But I want to help, isn't that reason enough?"

Alastor watched him, his face softening a little before going back behind his walls.

"For now."

He walked over and took Lucifer's hand silently, noting the familiar way the king flintched at the contact and immediately looked at him before looking at their hands and his magic started to ease into Alastor's body.

"Don't squeeze so hard this time."

Lucifer teased quietly, summoning the overlord a chair before a wall of angelic power slammed into Alastor.

Alastor blinked, screaming filling his ears as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings. He was deep in a forest, snow covering the ground and making everything seemingly stand still. He look at the rusted axe in his hand and then to the ground. Blood covered the pure white ground where his Father writhed in pain, his arm was missing, a bone sticking out from the purposefully sloppy cut.

He wanted him to feel everything. His arms raised and then his left leg was gone. Faintly, Alastor heard wolves howl but he didn't have it in him to care. He held his father down as he stopped the bleeding and tied the now unconscious man to the bottom of a tree. Alastor changed his clouthes and gloves, burning them before leaving his father to the wolves.

There was almost nothing left of the man when he returned, after the wolves had their fill of him, other scavengers ate the left overs, bones and fabric spread about. It had also snowed, hiding any evidence of the blood.

A week later his father was filled as missing by his neighbor and they had never found him. The thrill had began to make Alastor fill with blood lust, tracking down killers, stalkers, abusers, and r@pists.

He spent his life cleaning up the streets of those criminals, moving after his dear mothr died. Then, in his new home, he'd bumped into Niffty, Husk, and Mimzy.

Alastor gasped and sat up, a stinging in his chest almost paralyzing him. Lucifer pulled his hand away immediately, at least, one of them. Alastor's hand had once again clamped Lucifer's hand to his. Lucifer's other hand however, had been gently hovering over his chest, finger tips touching him.

As Alastor's focused more he realized that they were now on the floor, Lucifer sitting on his knees with their hands in his lap which probably ment Alastor had fallen off his chair and had been laying on the floor.

"Are you okay?"

He whipped his head to face Lucifer, absolutely appalfedy.

"Am I okay?!"

He peeled his hand away from Lucifer, harsh, golden imprints of his hand on Lucifer's skin, standing up with the aid of his chair.

"You keep asking me that before even trying to pull your hand away! Of course I'm not... okay.."

He trailed off as he looked into Lucifer's eyes, his own widening at his words. Was he worried about him? No! No of course not! He only felt bad because he had been... Inflicting pain on him? That didn't track at all and when he felt his heart ache in pain at the worried look on the blonde's face, he had to stop himself from slamming his head into a wall.

"I think you should go."

Lucifer blinked-

"But I haven't even checked if it worked!"

"Leave. I don't need your help anymore. Thank you."

Alastor's voice was stone cold again, not looking at the king again but seeing the man's ears droop sadly from the corner of his eye.

Lucifer looked like he wanted to say something but stopped, tears welling in his eyes at the harsh words.

I dont need you anymore

He turned and hurriedly left the room, going to his own.

Alastor stared at the fire place, heart thudding in his chest.

That was a new feeling.

#radioapple #writing #angst #hazbin hotel #queer platonic relationship #slow burn #cw: gore #tw abuse #tw death #graphic detail #daddy issues #read with caution #a03 fanfic #fanfic

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rafescoke · 3 years

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hiiiii!!

Can I please request a rafe x reader based on that song need to know by doja cat.

Basically the reader heard rumors about the rafe’s and he’s past with his ex. Basically all saying how he was a 10/10 on bed. The reader is furious but sad and quickly confronts the rafe. You can choose the ending. Smut or fluff ending!!

Also pls post the rafe x reader, jj fic with the 19 chapters plsssss!!!! I beg you!

Need To Know ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

#Part 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: The reader confronts Rafe about his past

Warnings: Straight smut, hella angst, substance, swearing, Rafe being a total dick

A/N: this one shot’s too long but i hope you will love it. i poured all my love into this however this isn’t my best work and im sorry!!

p.s, i’m always open for requests <3

“Hey! thanks for coming,” Topper smiled, hugging Rafe’s side before kissing (Y/N)’s cheeks. He ushered them both to the middle of the ongoing party, to the centre where all of Rafe’s friends were hanging out.

(Y/N) is never a fan of parties, especially the ones that she will have to tug on Rafe’s collars for them to finally enjoy the night alone. However, she passed up the chance of watching netflix with her partner tonight to go to Topper’s birthday party, since, it was, well, Topper’s celebration.

If it had not been for Topper, she wouldn’t even bat an eye to this party, especially when she knows the amount of girls silently crushing on her boyfriend of 6 months now. Rafe’s incredibly handsome, with his hair messily parted and his blue eyes shining everytime they’re exposed to the glowing sunlight of Obx. . . (Y/N) couldn’t justify why he would even choose her.

“What are you thinking?” Rafe playfully groaned, pulling his girlfriend’s waist near him. His fingers played with the hem of her dress, giggling when she hissed, swatting his hands away. “Seriously. You’ve been quiet since we got out of the car.”

“I just don’t like the attention’s you’re getting tonight,” she sighed, rolling her eyes when Rafe poked her, an amused expression plastered on his face. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Now you’re this proud prick.”

Rafe laughed, throwing his head back, his hands still around her waist. She waited for him to regain his posture before kissing his cheeks.

“Go and find Topper. I know you want to kiss him.”

“Not as much as I want to kiss you,” Rafe replied, laughing again when (Y/N) stuck her tongue out at him before walking away to go and get some drinks for herself. In truth, Rafe doesn’t understand why she would feel so inferior towards other girls; she’s simply the most beautiful girl he’ve ever laid his eyes on. No one can ever compare to (Y/N), and that’s for sure.

(Y/N) muttered a thanks when someone handed her a beer, standing on her toes to search for her friends. When she couldn’t see any of them, she began making her way towards Rafe and Topper. She decided that instead of waiting alone in the resting area of the club while everybody else is socialising, she would rather listen to whatever Rafe and his friends were conversing, knowing that somehow she’ll find something interesting in the discussion.

That was when she bumped into a figure, causing the person to drop the drink they were holding onto her front dress. (Y/N) groaned, not liking how she was already ruining the branded new dress she bought with Rafe. The smell of strong alcohol wafted into her nostrils, causing her to scrunch her nose.

“Watch where you’re going,” the person said, and (Y/N) rolled her eyes before finally leaving the scene, not wanting to stir any unnecessary drama. She knows it will always end up dirty and Rafe will have to calm her down in the car.

(Y/N) pushed her way through the swarm of sweaty bodies as the dress reeked with alcohol clung onto her body, and she momentarily regretted her choice of wearing a skin tight short sequin dress to a club where dropping drinks on someone is just something that is bound to happen.

She sighed when she finally reached the bathroom, quickly washing her stains with the cheap toilet paper. It left some white bits on her dress when she finally removed them, and she groaned again before washing the fabric under the running water. Her day was going totally bad, and she dreamed of the night she could’ve spent with Rafe if only Topper wasn’t born on yesterday’s date 19 years ago.

“That’s what I’m saying!” a loud voice shrieked, followed by group of shrill laughs. “God, I really wish I’m still with him.”

(Y/N) raised her brows at the familiar voice, but thought none of it. Topper wouldn’t invite Rafe’s ex, he knows what she did to him. There was no way she was allowed to be in the private part of the club, unless someone had brought her as their plus one.

(Y/N) shook her head at the thought, trying to focus on the stains that seemed to be making everything hard for her.

“He has this habit of running his fingers through his hair when he’s receiving head,” the voice continued, and (Y/N) stopped in her tracks.

That’s exactly Rafe. Whoever the voice was, she was talking about Rafe. Rafe has this habit of running his long fingers through his hair while he’s whimpering, and it always drives (Y/N) crazy.

She thought nothing of it, thinking about the possibility of another guy doing the same thing. It’s a common thing anyways; she wasn’t going to pull the crazy jealous girlfriend card that night.

She turned to pull another tissue paper, her ears still intently listening to the group of friends who seemed to not mind receiving any attention from their bold topic.

“Now he’s with that (Y/L/N) girl. I honestly don’t get why he would be with her. Oh and-” the voice squealed, “Do you know that Rafe called me when they were talking?”

What?

“What?” her friends asked in disbelief, and (Y/N) didn’t move a muscle. She pressed her back against the tiled walls, listening close. Her heartbeat beat faster, and she could feel her head getting lighter.

“Yes! It was like, the first month they started getting close? He told me he couldn’t get over me and that he tried everything including finding me in her.”

(Y/N) felt the walls closing in, and quickly got to her feet to splash some water onto her face. She felt like dying right then and right there, but she knew she had to at least hear more to, now identified, Rafe’s ex girlfriend.

“He drove to my house and we just talked, you know. . . and then he told me something, and I refused. He got mad, I guess, and we fought like always, and he left me to be with that girl until today. Kinda sucks to be her, you know? Like the second choice kind of thing?” she continued, an amused tone lacing in her voice.

At that point, (Y/N) had heard enough. She walked towards the exit as fast as her heels could take her, not stopping to stay goodbye to her now approaching friends. She could feel her hot tears crashing down, but she didn’t feel like crying in the club and having random strangers coming up to her to soothe her down.

When the night breeze hit her square on the face as she finaly exited the suffocating club, she let out the hardest cry ever as she tried to find any available taxis through her tears. There were none, seeing that it was only 9 p.m. and people had just starting to arrive, so she decided to walk to nowhere until she finds any yellow vehicle.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” a voice called out from behind her, and she turned when a hand pulled her shoulder. “What the fuck? Are you okay? Where’s Rafe?”

“Kelce, I’m not feeling good. I just want to go home, okay? Please, oh my god. I can’t do this right now,” she cried, covering her eyes with her palm. Kelce pulled her into a side hug, allowing her tears on his new t-shirt. When she finally soothed down, he tried to find an answer in her face again.

“What happened?”

“I can’t tell you now, I just-” she took a deep breath, “I just can’t. Can you um, call a Uber for me, please? My phone’s with Rafe.”

“What? Why would your phone-” he sighed, taking out his own phone. “Borrow my phone. It’s safer this way. Call a Uber, get home, and don’t do anything stupid. Okay?”

(Y/N) nodded, kissing Kelce’s cheeks before ordering a Uber, waiting by the sidewalk impatiently. She was scared Rafe would come out to look for her, and she didn’t feel like talking to him.

She felt like shooting him in his ribs until he’s begging for her to stop.

When she got home, her fingers trembling and her dress now ruined, she stripped out of her clothes and got under her covers. Her mother tried asking her about why she had come home earlier than expected with a running mascara and a smudged lipstick, but decided to let it pass when she didn’t answer, knowing that something has indeed happened.

She felt like screaming. She had trusted him so much, and he was even the first guy to take her virginity. Now she felt disgusted, thinking about how she had allowed herself to the sweet words he had given her before.

She couldn’t ignore the memory of the night she first experienced sex with him, and the whole sweet care he had provided after.

It was Friday the 13th, and Rafe decided it will be a good night to watch some type of a horror movie. (Y/N) agreed, being a fan of horror, but until one point, she was bored with the super-slow plot and boring characters.

She played with Rafe’s fingers, intertwining them with hers, before she got an idea midway of the female character’s scream that echoed throughout her bedroom.

“Rafe,” she said, and Rafe hummed in response. His eyes were fixated to the screen, not paying any attention to her. She whined, “Rafe. . .”

“Yeah?” He finally looked down to her, and laughed when he saw the face she gave him. “What the hell is wrong with you? The best part’s coming up. Watch it, the guy’s going to- fuck.”

(Y/N) had slipped her hand into his basketball shorts, teasing the outline of his v-line. Rafe’s breath shuddered, and he grabbed her hands before things escalate.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He grunted.

“I just wanna try something,” she replied innocently, and Rafe swore he felt like his heart stopping right then and right there. She was that sweet girl, and he has never saw this side of her.

“Can I?” she asked, and with a tiny nod, she continued her movements as Rafe’s eyes stayed glued on the television screen, though his mind was already on cloud nine.

She was so good, and Rafe couldn’t explain the feeling inside of him when he watched her palmed him, her mouth slightly open and her hair falling down to her shoulders. Rafe felt like attacking every inch of her, wanting to give anything that she desired.

“Stop,” he said, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum from just your hands.”

“I want you to,” she said, and Rafe cursed. He liked, scratch that, he loved and is obsessed with the way she did anything to him, with her innocent eyes and her teasing smile. He felt like fucking her numb every single time she purposely brushed her hands against his buldge in the restaurant or bumping her bottoms against him when playing golf.

And when she would deny her actions, god, he felt like giving his all to her until she couldn’t walk.

“Rafe,” she said again, with that gint in her eyes. She leaned onto him, and he shievered when he felt her lips brushing with his earlobes.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Rafe groaned, not wanting to look her in the eyes, afraid that he would do things he will regret the next morning. He felt her fingers around his chin, forcing him to look at her.

“Please.”

“You told me you wanted to wait,” he said softly.

“I’m done waiting,” she had said, and that was enough for Rafe to crash his lips against her soft ones, pushing her lightly to her queen sized bed. He felt her hands playing with the hem of his shorts, and being an impatience fuck like his dad, he guided her hands to his already hard penis, craving for her touch.

“Fuck,” he groaned, closing his eyes to the euphoric feeling starting to form in the pit of his stomach. His fingers fumbled with her shorts, trying to untie the waistband, and grunted when he couldn’t gues the knot.

(Y/N) giggled, untying the ribbon, sliding her shorts to the edge of her bed as Rafe waited with his eyes staring at her hands eagerly, like a prey waiting to attack.

Once her shorts were off, Rafe didn’t waste anymore time to place kisses from her stomach down to the sides of her aching core. (Y/N) couldn’t take it anymore, after so many nights of trying to picture this exact moment in her head whilst fingering herself, pretending like it has been Rafe’s fingers instead of herself, she wanted to feel him around her so bad.

“Please, Rafe,” she begged, looking at him with the innocent eyes again. She moaned when he inserted his fingers in her, pleasuring her the way pornstars would from the many porn videos his cousin had taught him to watch since he was 10 before.

“Oh my god,” she screamed, not able to comprehend the strange feeling in her stomach. She tried to close her legs, only for Rafe to gripped them apart tightly, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Do that again and I’ll leave you hanging.”

It was the way he had said that that left (Y/N) all red, pushing herself against him to reach her end. She felt a sudden feeling approaching, and gripped Rafe’s wrist to tell him.

Rafe laughed when she had came around his dingers, feeling her juice soaking up his fingers and her bedsheet. (Y/N) sighed, still heaving from her high, making a mental note in her head to love this other side of Rafe Cameron.

“Suck,” he said, placing his two soaked fingers in front of her face and watched her as she sucked on them like a little girl who’s licking off a lollipop that her mother had bought for her. He felt like cumming just from the sight of her face.

“I want you inside me,” she had said again, and Rafe groaned to look away, not wanting to be a regret she had made the next morning. He looked at her again when she sat on his lap, looking at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Please?” she whispered, and before he knew it, she licked his ear to the the side of his lip before placing a soft peck on his lips.

Rafe has never removed his basketball shorts as fast as he did that night, not even when he had felt an animal crawling in his pants in the pet shop when he was 8 that resulted Sarah into having a laughing fit when they found out that a hamster had gotten into his pants.

He positioned himself in front of her slit, waiting for any new demands for him to stop now that she had changed her mind. But there was nothing, only (Y/N) demanding for him, and without wasting any more time, he slowly slided into her, strecthing her hole.

He grunted when she felt her closing in, knowing that if she kept doing that, he’ll finish straight away. (Y/N) screamed as he fucked her with a quick pace, causing him to quickly pull her head close to him to whisper into her ear.

“Shut up, princess. Don’t want mummy and daddy to wake up, do we?”

(Y/N) shook her head, wanting to reach her end soon. She moaned against her mattress, smelling Rafe’s scent from it, and liking the way he would whimper when he hit her g-spot.

“I’m so close, baby, fuck-” he cursed, his pace getting sloppier. His fingers with his cold rings intertwined with hers as he slammed into her for good measure, and pulling out to aim on her face as she tried to regain her breath.

(Y/N) felt a shot of hot load landing on her face as she finally looked up to him, his sweaty chest heaving from the ungodly practice they just did. Rafe groaned, feeling himself getting hard again from the sight of her with his load all over her, and quickly turned away to grab a clean towel to clean her up.

That night, with a soft lullaby playing from (Y/N)’s record player that Rafe had bought for her in Italy, he ran his fingers through her hair as she snuggled close, watching the moonlight brightened the ocean.

Rafe sighed, now wrapping his arms around her, forcing himself to not touch her breast in any way. “I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you had pictured in your mind.”

“Are you kidding?” she turned to face him, “God, Rafe. That’s exactly how I wanted it with you.”

Rafe chuckled and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, “God. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Riing! Riing!

(Y/N) wiped her tears with her fingers before pressing on the green button, bringing the phone to her ears when she saw Topper’s name. She decided that he deserved an explanation after she had ran off from his birthday party.

“Tops?”

“Hey, baby, you didn’t pick up my call. I have to use Topper’s phone but, um-” (Y/N) heard the crowd sang happy birthday, “But um, are you okay? Kelce told me you were crying and I-”

“I’m fine. You should sing happy birthday to Topper.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” he said to a voice in the background, and tried to talk to her again. “What is it, baby? The line’s kinda shitty here. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. I know you’re not. Can you please tell me what happened?”

“It’s nothing, Rafe. Go and enjoy yourself.”

“God, (Y/N), don’t pull this shit on me,” he sighed, and she waited until the background noise lessen. “Okay, I’m at the smoking area. Can you please tell me what happened?”

“You used me.”

“I’m - what?” he asked, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I heard her talking about how you drove to see her and you told her that you tried finding her in me,” she finaly confessed, her voice breaking. A tear slowly rolled down her red cheeks and she quickly wiped them away.

“Baby, it’s not how it sounds like.”

“Then what is it?” she yelled, clutching onto Kelce’s phone like it was her life support. “Fuck, Rafe, I gave you my everything.”

“Baby, I swear, it’s just-”

(Y/N) waited for him to finish his sentence, and sucked in a breath when she heard the voice that had caused her this misery.

“Rafe! What are you doing here?”

“Fuck, (Y/N), I’ll come by to your house, okay? Please, don’t do anything stupid, I’m coming back home-”

(Y/N) pressed the end call, letting go of the breath she was holding before finally throwing her head back against the pillow.

#Part 2

add yourself to the taglist!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron smuts #outer banks #outerbanks #outerbanks imagines #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smuts #outerbanks x reader

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hogwartsfirebolt · 3 years

Text

cw: canon-typical child neglect

“We will come for you, Potter, you won’t know a single day of peace until you see us again.” Augustus Rookwood spat at Harry’s feet, but seeing as he was tied up, immobilized and held by two of their strongest aurors while six others swept through his house, it was a bit overkill.

“Draco,” Harry said, ignoring the spluttering criminal. “I saw a row of phials in the kitchen, care to give them a look?” He was already looking at something else as he gave the instruction, confident enough in his authority to know Draco would listen.

“Yes, sir.” Draco replied easily, watching his hands as he swept through files. The words turned Harry’s attention back to him — a raised eyebrow, the glimpse of a smile, cheeky, promising. After all, he was sir here, when they worked crime scenes together, and sometimes he was sir at home, too, when it was the last Saturday of the month and they were feeling adventurous.

Draco grinned back. Harry shook his head, the smile still present in his eyes, and went back to looking through Rookwood’s desk.

They’d hunted him for months, countless sleepless nights spent on the case — both of them were slight workaholics and never knew when to stop — endless missteps, near-catches, failed leads. It wasn’t often they got to work cases together anymore, not since Harry had been promoted to Head Auror and Draco put in charge of the Potion Control Department, and so they had given it their all, became the power team they’d been known as back in their Junior Auror Partners days.

It had been fun, seeing Harry in action again, aiding him, leaning on him as well. It had also been exhausting. They weren’t 20 years old anymore.

Finally, it was coming to an end, and it was like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Draco could already taste the fresh air of the Amalfi coast, where they’d be celebrating their sixth wedding anniversary as soon as they finished the paperwork.

“Here,” Junior Auror Healey said when Draco entered the kitchen, pushing a small cardboard box towards him over the table. “The boss said you had to look this over.”

Draco snorted. “The boss knows I don’t have to do anything. I won’t look if I don’t want to,” he said, already looking because well, he did have to.

“Oh, not the old married couple attitude, please,” came Ron’s voice from the living room, surprising a laugh out of Draco as he popped the cork off a phial with utmost care.

“Shut it, Weasley, I will end you and Harry won’t stop me.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“What is it?” Healey whispered, awed, ignoring Ron completely as she stared at the burgundy fumes emerging from the phial in Draco’s hand. She’d always liked Potions, had asked to apprentice with him when her training ended in the fall. He beckoned her closer.

“Come on, you can smell it — there, what do you smell?”

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Poppy.”

He hummed. “Yes. It’s a powerful sedative, topped with golden spindle chord and moondust, from the looks of it. This could make someone sleep for years.”

“Honestly, I get why people would buy it. I know a few I’d like to give it to.”

Draco grinned. “Such a Slytherin. Careful, the Gryffindors here will try hard to take that edge off you.”

“That was one time, Malfoy,” came Ron’s voice once again, this time sending Draco and Healey into a full laughing fit.

When they recovered, Draco handed the potion back to her, safely corked. “They all look the same, but I’m not sure about the conditions they’ve been preserved in. Have Newton send them to my lab, will you?”

She nodded. Draco washed his hands and walked back into the house, drying them on the sides of his robe. He passed Ron, who was securing the wands they had confiscated, passed Newton, who was inspecting the spell damage on Daphne’s arm, and went to find Harry in the office where he’d left him, thinking it was time to leave, thinking of the hot shower and warm bedsheets waiting for them at home.

Instead, he found him by the stairs, breathing hard, eyes wide. He stopped, hackles rising, his heart speeding up immediately, attuned to Harry’s uneasiness.

“Harry? What’s wrong?”

“I’m — I’m not sure … can you hear that?” He raised a trembling finger, pointing out a sound. He had goosebumps all over his arms.

Draco blinked, focused, and then he heard it. A light tapping, coming from the cupboard under the stairs, and something softer, sweeter, a hum, almost as if someone were singing to themselves.

“Is that…?”

Harry blew up the door.

The child looked at them, eyes wide, swinging feet tapping against the side of a tiny cot. He looked confused rather than scared, as he sat there in clothes at least five sizes too big for him, messy brown hair covering his forehead. He couldn’t be older than four.

Draco knelt in front of him immediately, hands going up to his shoulders, his face, making sure he was safe. His heart was somewhere near his throat.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, which was the primary thing in the midst of the most disconcerting finding he’d made in his entire career.

The child shook his head. Hesitated. Then, in a sweet, small voice, “Where’s uncle Gus?”

Draco couldn’t breathe. “You’re Augustus Rookwood’s nephew?”

The child nodded.

“Where are your parents?”

“Uncle says they’re dead.”

“W- what are you doing in here? With the door locked?”

“This is my room.” Draco heard Harry make a choked up noise behind him, but didn’t turn to look. “Uncle Gus says I’m not supposed to bother him. Am I — am I bothering him?”

“No, no. Are you — how long have you…” his hands trembled, holding the child’s collar. “Do you live with anyone else?”

The child shook his head again. “Before, yes, but uncle says auntie Gertie is dead too.” There was a pause. Draco heard nothing behind him, but he couldn’t make himself look away from the kid, the hollow cheeks, the small frame. He looked starved.

“What’s your name?”

“Silas.”

“Are you hungry, Silas? When did you last eat?”

“I think — I think breakfast.”

“Today?”

“Yesterday.” He replied. Then, with curiosity, “Who are you?”

It was six in the evening. Nearly two full days had passed since his last meal. Draco closed his eyes, swallowed.

“My name is Draco. We will take you somewhere safe now, is that okay? You’re safe with us.”

Silas’ hazel eyes lit up. “You’re taking me away?” But his joy seemed to last merely a second, his gaze turning to his feet. “But uncle will be mad. I’m supposed to be good. Am I being good?”

“Oh god.” Came Harry’s voice from behind him, fractured. He fell to his knees beside Draco, pulled Silas off the cot, held him by the shoulders. “We’re going to help you, okay? You — you’re coming with us. You don’t have to come back here if you don’t want to, you’re safe, you … I promise. I promise we will keep you safe.”

Silas hugged Harry.

Haunted green eyes met Draco’s over the boy’s shoulder, those eyes he loved more than anything, holding unshed tears that seemed to go unnoticed, the depth of a decades-old pain coming to the surface, fresh once again, renewed.

There were things Harry couldn’t speak about. Hadn’t, not even once.

Now, it was all there in his eyes. A question.

Draco saw two neglected children, clinging to each other by a cupboard under the stairs, and knew what he was being asked. He didn’t need to think about it for even a second when he nodded.

Harry closed his eyes, hugged Silas tighter. “You’re coming with us.”

Written for @drarrymicrofic prompt - "Adoption"

#drarry #drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #mine #drarry fic #draco malfoy #harry potter #mywriting

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avengers-age-of-fanfics · 3 years

Text

just for you, honeybee (1/?)

pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader, steve rogers x reader (platonic!)

word count: 3,172

warnings: a few curse words, bucky being cute, steve being awkward but also a great friend

authors note: hello! this is my first ever post on this account and the first chapter to a new series! im not sure how many chapters this is going to be as i got inspiration to write it a few days ago but im hoping to keep up with it. also, once TFATWS ends, i intend to do a series based on that as well! anywho, i hope you enjoy this and please leave feedback/lmk what i can do to improve! thank u :)

summary: dating back to 1943, you, james barnes, and steve rogers were best friends, including bucky being your boyfriend. when you get a notice that bucky died in the war, you make it your mission to find closure for yourself and protect steve as he is the only remaining piece of bucky you have left. once you are offered the super soldier serum, you and steve must make your way through world war 2 - and the unknown future hardships to come.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes laid across from you on your bed, eyes softly glancing over your features as your hand grazed over his cheek and jawline. You chuckled to yourself, “looking a bit scruffy, Buck.”

He hummed, eyes now fluttering closed at your touch, “thought you liked it, doll.”

With a quick kiss to his lips, you nodded, “oh I do, don’t worry – no reason not to, really.”

Bucky let out a soft laugh before he ran a hand over your cheek, “I gotta get goin’ soon, doll. ‘Uniforms at Becca’s.”

With a sigh, you rolled onto your back and stretched, “she’s a saint, you know, washing and steaming your uniform for you.”

Bucky nodded in agreement with you, “that I do know, honeybee. I’ll meet you at Stevie’s, yeah?”

As you got out of your shared bed, you looked back at Bucky, “of course! Gotta see you off before you go put your life on the line, no big deal.” Bucky quickly dropped the conversation immediately after, understanding how you're feeling.

You weren’t mad at Bucky for joining the army – you couldn’t be, it wasn’t his fault. He was drafted and you knew that if he could stay, he would; and you knew you were being slightly immature about him leaving. You just wanted more time with him. So many people you knew had received letters that their loved ones hadn’t come back, that they had died in battle. It wasn’t fair, but when was life perfectly balanced?

By the time you got changed and got yourself cleaned up, Bucky was straightening out his shirt before he turned towards you, eyes hesitant. You walked to him, buttoning up his final buttons before you ran your hands over his shirt, “I’ll see you soon, Buck, okay?”

Bucky ran his tongue over his lips, “I know, honeybee. Try to keep Steve out of trouble for the time being, okay?”

You laughed, “I’ll certainly try my best – now get outta here!” With a smack to his ass, Bucky gave you one last kiss before he headed out the door to see his sister, Rebecca. You had asked her to iron Bucky’s uniform before he got sent off to war, wanting him to look his best – but you were sure he would look handsome in anything.

Looking in the mirror, you straightened out your favorite belted Peter Pan collar dress, fit with a pair of white heels; only the best for your Buck. You had begged him multiple times to let you register to become a nurse, in the slight chance of being close to him, but he always responded with the same answer: “I want to make sure I have someone to come home to, doll.”

You’d never tell him, but your heart warmed every time he said that.

Doing one more look-over, you smiled to yourself, grabbing your purse as you headed out the door. Steve’s apartment was only a few blocks away from your own, and honestly, you wanted to spend more time with him before Bucky left. The two were inseparable, and you knew Steve was going to struggle with Bucky being gone – that, and the unknowing if he’ll come back.

With sharp and prideful steps, you made your way across the street, saying hello to familiar faces and grabbing a newspaper from Grover, a vendor along the streets of Brooklyn. He stopped you before you headed off, “heard your boy’s goin’ off to war, y/n. How ya doin’?”

With a soft chuckle, you glanced down at the newspapers in your hands – one for you, Steve, and Bucky while he was on the train. You looked back at Grover, “I could be better, if I’m being honest. But I know he’s doing a good thing, so my silly feelings shouldn’t hold him back, Grove.”

Grover grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “you and your selflessness, just like ya ma. I’m telling yous, y/n, that boy loves you to the moon and back. Ain’t nothing he wouldn’t do for ya; if you asked him to stay, he’d go and fake his death to make sure you two go runnin’ off into the sunset together.”

With a laugh, you pushed the tears back, “and I love him too, Grove – but I can’t ask him to just not go. That just isn’t how it is, you know?”

Grover nodded, “yeah, kid, I know. . .Now get lost, I got customers to deliver these too.”

You glanced down at the stack of newspapers, “I’m headed over to Steve’s, anyone near his you gotta drop them off to?”

The vendor let out a hum and rested his head in his palm, “hmm, I think just Richie and Betty Davis right next to Rogers’ place. They get two, you good carryin’ an extra bundle?”

You gave Grover a look as he held up his hands, “just as fierce as ya mama, too – and being Barnes’ girl, probably the wrong question to ask.”

With a laugh, you held out your stack of papers, “pile them on, Gro. I’ll see you later, alright?” The vendor nodded and shoo’ed you away as you continued your journey to Steve’s apartment. Once you arrived, you left two newspapers on his neighbor’s doorstep, knocking once as you crossed back over to Steve’s.

As the Davis’ door opened, you knocked on Steve’s, already hearing rustling inside. Betty was at her door, “y/n? That you, sweetheart?”

With a turn, you greeted Mrs. Davis with a smile, “hi Mrs. Davis, how are you? How are the kids?”

The woman smiled back, “’mm, they’re good – always askin’ when the next batch of those delicious brownies are coming!”

You laughed and noticed Steve had opened the door, small statute waiting until you were done talking with Betty, “I’ll drop them by the next time I get to bakin’, Mrs. Davis. I’ll see you!” You waved to her, as did Steve, as he stepped aside to let you in.

Steve looked at the newspapers, then back at you, “you look great, y/n. . . Looks like I’ll be tellin’ Buck to shut his mouth when he sees you.”

You chuckled, “’cus he’ll catch flies or the obscenities he’ll be sayin’?”

Steve let out a laugh, “both, definitely both.”

Now that you both were in the safehouse of his apartment, you finally got a good look at your little army-hopper. He spotted a new black eye and a small cut on his cheek, yet he still looked as if he could go again if he wanted to. You nodded towards him, “where’d you get into a scuffle at this time?”

He shifted his feet until he let out a sigh, “behind a theatre. They were showin’ commercials for the army and some guy just started saying stuff.”

With a bite of your cheek, you sat down on one of his chairs, “so you had to fight him?”

“Just gotta be one of the good guys in the neighborhood, y/n.”

“I know, Stevie.”

An hour had passed and, in the meantime, you and Steve enjoyed some tea and tried to complete your own crossword puzzles. A small conversation had taken place between the two of you, talking about plans once Bucky was off fighting the war. You had talked about Steve moving in with you, but he was always so stubborn, wanting to prove that he could live on his own. You never thought that he couldn’t, but it could be a money saver.

One more glance at the clock, you figured it would be almost time for Bucky to show up. And, just like that, a knock was heard from the door and you smiled, getting up to answer it as Steve stayed back, grumbling at the pieces of paper in his hands. Opening the door, you saw your James Buchanan Barnes standing tall and proud in his new uniform.

Bucky whistled, glancing over your outfit as you did the same to him, “you look gorgeous, honeybee – even though I told you to not dress up.”

He stepped inside the apartment as you crossed your arms, “I mean, Steve agrees that this is kind of a big deal, so I think a nice dress will suffice.”

Steve and Bucky clasped hands and Bucky nudged his shoulder, “thought you were supposed to be a good influence on my girl, Steve.”

The smaller man shrugged, “kind of is a big deal.”

Bucky shuffled his feet, “yeah, well, I don’t want it to be. Let’s just go to the future and then see me off, alright?” The three of you stood in silence, light tension hanging in the air. With a sigh, you grabbed your purse, “well, off we go! C’mon now, boys.”

Bucky, you, and Steve headed to New York World’s Fair, hooked arms leading towards Howard Stark’s Expo. With bright lights, fireworks, and amazing technology surrounding you, your eyes failed to see Bucky staring at you with so much adoration. He never wanted to leave you – he’d stay if he could – but he had been drafted. All he wanted to do was stay in Brooklyn with you and Steve, and just never leave your arms. Hell, really, wherever you went, he went.

But that wasn’t the case in this scenario.

With a hand on your waist, Bucky looked up at Stark’s presentation of his repulsor technology with a flying car, head shaking in disbelief. While his car may have only hovered for a few seconds, the idea of not even needing to touch the ground to drive absolutely boggled your mind. During the presentation, Steve glanced up at you two and silently snuck off, hoping you didn’t notice his absence for too long. But he knew you and how observant and protective you were.

However, once you glanced around after a few minutes and found Steve in front of an army poster within the United States Armed Services Recruitment center. Squeezing Bucky’s hand, you slightly pulled him towards where Steve was, trying his best to fit his head within the frame.

With a slight push of his shoulder, Bucky nodded his head towards the Expo, “come on, we’re goin’ dancing – and hopefully find yourself a girl.”

Steve shook his head, “you – uh – you go ahead, I’ll catch up later.” He looked around, trying to divert the conversation between him and his best friend.

“Steve,” you started, “please? Just this one night?”

Bucky held your hand as he looked back at Steve, “you’re really gonna do this again?”

“I just – guys, it’s a fair, I’ll try my luck,” he started, looking between you both.

Beside you, you felt Bucky grow agitated, “that’s who, Steve from Ohio?”

“Bucky,” you said, squeezing his hand once more, “let him try one more, okay? We can go dancing and Steve will catch up later. If he doesn’t, I’ll hang his head on my wall like a prize.”

The boys let out a chuckle as Steve continued, “one last time, alright? I promise I’ll come later on – Mac’s, right?”

You nodded your head as Bucky sighed beside you, “don’t think you got to prove anything, Steve.” A small pause came over the three of you as Bucky continued, “don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

You started to walk back with Bucky, letting go of his hand as he continued his conversation with Steve as he let out a small laugh, “how can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” You held up a finger at Steve, “you better mean that about himself, Rogers.”

Steve held up his hands, “yes ma’am! And Bucky –“

Bucky turned around once more to his best friend, “don’t win the war until I get there.” With a mock salute, Bucky dragged you back towards the Expo as you waved back at Steve, making sure he’d meet you at the bar before your boyfriend was shipped off.

With a sigh, Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he kissed your head, “that punk is gonna get himself in all loads of trouble, honeybee.”

You held his hand that was around your shoulder, “I’ll keep Stevie in his place. Seriously, Buck, try not to worry about him.”

“I just,” Bucky gripped your hand, “I don’t wanna come back to nothing, you know? Steve’s my best friend and if he somehow gets himself killed here or in the war, I don’t know what I’d do.”

You pulled Bucky to a stop, putting your hands on his cheeks, “James, look at me, please.” With soft eyes, Bucky looked into yours, “I promise you, Steve is going to be okay – he won’t do anything stupid, at least without me. We’re going to be okay, and you will, too. . .’cus if you aren’t, I may go and kill Hitler myself.”

Bucky chuckled, “I don’t doubt that for a minute, sweetheart. I love you, you know that, right?”

You leaned up, kissing Bucky softly before pulling back, hands tight on your waist, “I love you too. Now C’mon, I wanna go to Mac’s and celebrate my newfound freedom.”

Bucky groaned and pulled you even closer, “maybe I should tell Steve to keep an eye on you.”

With a mock salute of your own, you giggled at your boyfriend, “aye, sir, my new mission is to protect Steven Grant Rogers from being an idiot!”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, “toughest job in this whole war, honeybee.”

As the night continued on, Steve actually showed up to Mac’s and had a new look in his eyes.

‘Hmm,’ you thought to yourself, ‘looks like I gotta ask him about something later.’

Steve, you, and Bucky didn’t drink, but instead enjoyed each other’s company before Buck was shipped off; this really only included Bucky and Steve making fun of each other and you keeping the boys in line. Laughs and a few smacks on the head filled the atmosphere, but you knew it wouldn't last long.

By the time it was nearing close to Bucky’s train departure, the three of you took to the streets and headed to the train station, silence enveloping you. Bucky’s hand was wrapped tightly around yours as you dreaded this goodbye, even if you had high hopes he’d return to you and Steve.

At the sight of the train and fellow troops heading into their cabins, Bucky turned to Steve, “you take care of yourself, alright punk? I don’t want any letters from my girl telling me that you’ve been actin’ out.”

Steve shoved his shoulder, “you’re acting like I’m 12 years old again. I’ll be fine, Buck.”

Bucky nodded, but looked to his best friend, “and Steve?”

Steve held his breath but let go, “yeah, Bucky?”

“Please take care of her.”

Steve glanced back at where you stood, picking your nails as your anxiety was pricking at your skin. He nodded, “I will.”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief, “thank you, pal. I love her, so make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid either, okay?” Steve nodded in response.

Bucky then headed over to where you were standing, his eyes raking over your beautiful dress, your heels, and most importantly, your face. He did not want to forget a single thing about you or your features – he wanted them committed to memory. With a gentle hand, Bucky tilted your chin up towards him, “you alright, honeybee?”

You nodded, too afraid to use your voice as tears flooded your eyes. Trying to dry them up anyway, you nodded once more, unable to look at Bucky. He sighed, “c’mere, sweet girl, I got you.”

With no hesitation, you fell into Bucky’s arms, tears threatening to fall as you felt his hands rest upon your back and your head. You sniffled, “I’m going – I’m going to miss you so much, Jamie – so, so much.”

Bucky kissed your head, “I’m gonna miss you too, sweetheart. Don’t you dare think that I won’t for a second. You’ll be the first thing on my mind every second of the day.”

You breathed, “can living through this war be the first thing on your mind? And maybe completing a crossword puzzle?"

Bucky let out a small laugh but held you tighter, “just for you, honeybee.” Pulling back, he wiped away stray tears that threatened to fall from your eyes, a soft smile on his face. “You’re gonna be alright, and I’ll be comin’ home to you in no time.”

You nodded, a few tears slipping free from your eyes as you looked up at Bucky, thumbs rubbing over his cheeks and light stubble. You slowly traced over his lips, his nose, and his eyebrows, committing everything about him to memory. With a small smile, you leaned up, catching him in a kiss once more, “stay safe, you hear me? And take this damn thing with you - maybe you'll complete it." With gentle hands, you handed him the newspaper you had gotten today.

He carefully took the newspaper from you, already hoping the crossword puzzle would be easy this time around. Then, Bucky pecked your lips before he headed towards the train, “gotta come back for my best girl. I love you!”

As he stepped onto the train and hung out the window of a cabin, he continued yelling, “I love you, y/n l/n! I love you!”

You cried, a bright smile on his face, “I love you too, James Buchanan Barnes!” Blowing kisses towards him, both you and Steve watched as the train slowly started to pull away, seeing him mindlessly hand his ticket to the worker, not bothering to tear his eyes away from you or his best friend.

“I love you!” he shouted once more, all before his train sped up, leaving you and Steve behind on the platform.

Wiping your eyes and your nose with a cloth, you cleared your throat and turned to Steve, “gah, sorry. Let’s uhm – do you want to head back to my place?”

Steve nodded towards you, “yeah, yeah that sounds good. You alright?” He hooked your arm with his as you headed out of the station, continuing to wipe your eyes. “Yeah,” you started, “I’m okay. I knew this was coming. . . I guess I just hated the whole ‘saying goodbye,’ you know?”

Your best friend rubbed the back of his neck, “I get it, y/n, but he’ll come back – he has a reason to, and that’s you.”

Your heart fluttered, and tears welled up in your eyes once more. With a quick sniffle, you reached into your purse and grabbed your key, unlocking your door to your apartment. Once inside, you quickly got to making tea for you and Steve, something to get your minds off of your missing puzzle piece.

Once tea was made and you both were sitting in your living room, you turned to him, “tell me, Stevie. Please.”

Steve looked at you, a confused look etched upon his face, “tell you what?”

You leaned back into your chair, picking at your nails once more, “what happened at the recruitment office? I’ve known you long enough to see that there’s something you’re not telling me, there’s something in your eyes, Stevie, so please, just tell me.”

Steve seemed shocked that you were able to read him like that, but was defeated. With a sigh, he turned and reached into his handbag, pulling out a file, “there was this Doctor there, Doctor Erskine, who uh – he approved me for the army, y/n. But it’s for an experiment, something they call a super-soldier experiment, I’m not sure. But, I’m going – I leave in a couple days.”

How is your world falling apart this quickly?

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cozy-the-overlord · 3 years

Text

Miles To Go Before I Sleep

Part 3 of Cozy’s Fluff-To-Angst Fun and Games

@fablesrose said:

Alright, break my heart.

A lover softly combing their fingers through your hair as your head lays in their lap, quietly drifting to sleep with a hum.

Summary: She could accept this fate, did accept this fate, if it meant that he would escape safe and sound. But Loki could never let her fall alone.

Word Count: 1,663

Pairing: Loki x Sigyn

A/N: So this is based on a dream I had a while ago ... it’s weird. I know it might not make any sense, but my dreams never make any sense lol, so I was kind of trying to channel that a bit. The title is from Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”-- I debated about that for a while, because I know this story doesn’t really fit that poem thematically (like ... at all), but the atmosphere it creates is sort of what I was going for? Kind of? Idk this story is a trash fire.

Also please let me know what you think of the ending! I’m genuinely curious to see how people interpret it ...

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Drowning? (but no death)

Tags: @lucywrites02 @silver-lupines @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname @electroma89 @lokislittlesigyn @moumouton4 @theredrenard @justdontmindmetm

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

At first, she thought she was dead. That moment when she first hit the water, the icy crack that shattered her vision as millions of tiny needles pierced every sliver of skin and cut straight to her bones—surely, she must be dead. No body could survive such raw cold.

But she wasn’t. She was alive for now, alive enough to scream as freezing water rushed down her throat, up her nostrils, through her ears, ripping her apart from the inside until there was nothing left but ice.

Can’t breathe—

The surface sparkled above her with a mocking glow. She knew how to swim, but when she tried to kick her legs only dangled in the water, useless chunks of lead pulling her deeper and deeper with each failed flail. Her arms weren’t working properly. Her fingers had turned to icicles.

No, she wasn’t dead, but she was dying.

The thought electrified her, and she tried another half-hearted thrash for the surface even as her chest swelled with water. She didn’t want to die. Not like this. Somewhere, deep down, she was ashamed of her fear. She hadn’t fought the drop. She had given herself up to death’s eternal slumber. Why was she panicking now?

But this was different. She had made peace with the fall, yes, but the water did not hold the same mercy. Please. She gasped for the surface, not even sure who she was pleading with.

Please, not like this.

She wasn’t expecting an answer.

And yet one came.

In one moment, she was spiraling down into the blackness, in another, the light was flying towards her in a halo of bubbles, a familiar arm tight and firm around her waist.

Somehow, the air she heaved into her lungs was even colder than the water below, the frigid wind that whipped across her cheeks threatening to take her skin with it. She coughed out a waterfall, the panic that had been frozen in her throat finally freed from its floodgates as she sobbed and shook against his chest.

His.

Sigyn gagged on the realization.

“You—you—” But her voice only burned, too raw for speech. When she attempted to twist around to see his face, he only held her more tightly against him as he pulled her to the embankment. She pulled at his collar with numb fingers.

“You were supposed to run,” she choked. “Loki, you were supposed to run.”

Loki said nothing. He scooped her up like she weighed no more than a feather, his ruby eyes staring off at something only he could see as they trudged through the snow. She realized suddenly that she was shivering, teeth chattering like a pair of castanets, and she gulped as she tried in vain to hold her frostbitten hands still. Loki’s grip around her tightened.

“We need to get you warm,” he said. “You’ll freeze like this.”

What he needed to do was drop her and get as far away from her as possible, but Sigyn’s voice wasn’t working properly. Really, very little was working properly. Her vision was going fuzzy in the corners, the steady sound of his wet boots crunching against the ice was starting to fade into an indistinguishable buzz.

She only noticed they had stopped when the fire crackled to life—a vibrant, vigorous warmth that washed all over her, and she found herself bathing in the glow of dancing flames despite her better judgment.

“Loki!” she whispered weakly, fighting to cling to her last dregs of reason. “The smoke— he’ll find you—”

Loki lay behind her, holding her to his chest with a touch so gentle she barely felt it. His fingertips danced across her temples, stroking clumps of wet hair from her face as they went.

“You’re so beautiful.” His voice was soft and safe, a warm blanket wrapping her up and sheltering her from the world.

She inhaled. Her chest felt numb. “What’s going to happen?” She hated that she sounded so small, like a frightened child cowering at a storm. But surely what they were facing was a storm of its own? Sigyn knew very well who it was pursuing them. She knew he would stop at nothing to retrieve what he wanted.

It could only be a matter of time …

But Loki was unconcerned. “Don’t worry, darling,” he soothed. “Don’t worry. It’s all going to turn out right.”

“The tesseract—”

He hushed her gently. “Everything’s going to be just fine.” He hummed as he combed through her hair, a tune that Sigyn almost recognized, something innocent and nostalgic. It was something from a lifetime far away, dancing on the edge of her memory. She found her eyelids slipping closed, even as she fought to remain awake.

Can’t sleep now. Can’t leave him …

“It’s all right, my love,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “You can go. I promise I’ll be all right.”

And so, she gave into his words, and the world faded to black.

…

When they found him, the fire had gone out. Loki was hunched alone in the snow, watching little flecks of ice crystalize on his blue skin. He didn’t bother to stand as they surrounded his makeshift camp. Why should he? He was weary, and besides— it didn’t matter now.

The Mad-Titan loomed over him, his golden armor sparkling with frost as he regarded Loki with a kind of patronizing amusement.

“And so the Jotun blesses us with his true colors.”

Loki fixed him with a heavy-lidded stare, breath whistling through his lips in a silver vapor. He was too exhausted for words. Besides, what was there to say? Everyone here knew how this was going to end.

At least, they thought they did.

“I’m surprised at your choice,” Thanos grinned. It was a spider’s smile, one that said he wasn’t surprised at all. Loki pressed his nails into the palms of his hands. “I thought for sure you had chosen to run.”

Yes. Sigyn had thought so too, had wanted him to flee. He had seen in her eyes, that peaceful resignation as she accepted her fate.

As if he could ever let her fall alone.

Thanos knew it. That was the frustrating part. He knew Loki would jump in to save her or die trying. He knew he’d give up his life, give up the tesseract, give up every living creature in the universe if it meant keeping her safe …

It didn’t matter now. Sigyn was free from harm, far outside the Titan’s reach, and the tesseract …

“Hand it over, princeling.”

Loki only smirked. History may call him Silvertongue, but oh, sometimes silence tasted so sweet.

Thanos’ eyes narrowed.

They dragged him to his feet in an instant. Loki didn’t fight it. It was only a matter of seconds before the realization would strike, and he for one was enjoying the anticipation.

The Titan towered over him. Loki fought the urge to laugh. He clearly thought himself intimidating, but his tiny eyes glaring out from beneath his helmet only made Loki think of an overgrown cockroach wearing armor.

Still, he bit his tongue.

“I’ll ask only once more,” Thanos leaned towards him, practically spitting in his face. “The tesseract. Hand it over.”

Loki didn’t flinch.

“My lord—” It was one of his Children, hunched over a datapad with a molded tension in his shoulders.

Here we go.

“What?”

“It’s not here.”

“What do you mean it’s not here?” Thanos snapped. “He has it!”

The man inhaled a shaky breath. “Forgive me sir, but he doesn’t. Here—” He held the tablet to the Titan with trembling hands in frantic supplication. “It’s not on his person. It’s not even on this planet. There’s not even the slightest trace of its gamma signature on this side of the galaxy!”

Loki grinned.

…

She awoke in her bed, cocooned in the snug embrace of her favorite fuzzy blanket. The rain pattered on the roof outside, a soft hum that almost soothed her back into slumber. Still, she pulled herself from sleep’s clutches and yawned, stretching as she sat up.

Such a strange dream.

It seemed so distant now, all wrapped up in warmth. She could only barely recall the last dregs of icy panic, floundering in a frozen river. And the man who had pulled her out …

She chuckled to herself. If only every nightmare ended with a tall, dark stranger rushing to her rescue. Although memory of his face eluded her, she couldn’t forget the feeling of his arm around her waist, so strong yet so gentle at the same time, clutching her to his chest like it was his sole purpose in life to hold her close. She sighed. Her subconscious had been kind to her last night.

A loud yowling from down the hall startled her from her reverie—the cat, demanding his breakfast. She frowned at the clock and jumped when she realized how late it was. Oh well. Can’t spend all morning fantasizing about handsome dream-men. Time to get up.

There was a song stuck in her head, she realized suddenly. It took her a moment to place it. Some silly jump rope chant from elementary school that she hadn’t thought of in years.

She giggled. How obscure is that?

Another meow reverberated through the apartment, an impatient edge to the cry. She groaned, throwing back the covers.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” One of her slippers was missing from its usual spot. She frowned. “Tigger, did you steal my slipper?”

Tigger only let out another screech, and she huffed. That damn cat was always snatching everything she left out and stashing them under something—he was a veritable hoarder.

“Fine,” she yelled, making her way to the kitchen slipperless. “Be like that, you little thief—”

So distracted was she by the cat, she didn’t notice the faint blue glow emanating from the tangled mess of her bedsheets.

#loki marvel #loki fanfic #loki angst #loki x sigyn #loki x ofc #logyn #miles to go before i sleep #cozys fluff-to-angst fun and games #cozy writes

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

Little Border Town Pt. 3

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today?

Part 3: the one with the boat and the beginning of a storm

IT’S BEEN AGESSSS I AM SO SO SORRY I LOVE YALL SO MUCH AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER READ THIS THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT

also harry is wearing this fit in this part just no tie?? i think i cant remember

college has been incredibly crazy this year already and i just dont have time to write like i did before i went back. i honestly had this mostly finished and i havent reread so i have no idea what even happens so lmk what you think, i can’t imagine that it will get a lot of notes but if it did id be very happy about that - anyways lots of love and feedback appreciated as always...pls enjoy

Word Count: 6.6k | Warnings: ?? Swearing? idek, more yearning bc slow burn

Catch up here! part 1 | 2 |

“Isn’t the weather not ideal for boat sailing today,” she ponders as her face looks up at the sky. She’s walking into Harry’s store again after running back to her place to grab a jacket and lock up. She placed a notecard in the door’s window that says “closed today, see you tomorrow” with a smiling face as punctuation.

Harry grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had sailing boots on his feet with a smart big-collared printed shirt and marigold trousers. Instead of a belt, he had suspenders that matched the color of his pants and a pearl necklace as his final accessory other than his rings. He must have repainted his nails this morning because they were a light lavender shade that hadn’t been noticeable last night.

“It’s just fine. We’re entering fall and the sun is out today!” He gestures to the sky above them and she nods in agreement that the sun is indeed out. However she wasn’t sure if she’d categorize it as a nice day to go out on the sea still. With the sun there were also many clouds, they were mostly white and fluffy, but she was sure they could turn sinister any moment.

“Ready?” He beams.

“As I’ll ever be.”

On the boat, Y/N felt her stomach churning. Was she giddy or unnerved? Likely, both.

Harry was tying the boat off the dock after helping her onto the deck. It wasn’t a huge boat, not a yacht or anything, but it also wasn’t a tiny sailboat. It had an upper deck where maybe four people - at most - could comfortably be. Then a lower deck, inside a hatch in the upper deck. She couldn’t discern how much space was down there, but she was sure Harry would show her. He was talking through everything he was doing on the boat. Ad nauseum for an extremely nontechnical girl, such as herself.

Still, she sat in the spot he had directed her to next to the closed hatch and watched him move gracefully around the boat. Maneuvering the sails and different parts of the boat was a dance for Harry. Each step, each twist and knot, moved by a song unknown to her. It was beautiful. He was completely in his element, surprisingly. Again, Harry surprised her. She knew he had a boat, but whenever she thought of a jerk with a boat she didn’t think of what she was seeing with her own eyes. It was beautiful - or at least, it would be, if he’d shut his big mouth that was now making her roll her eyes as he made a pun about boats.

“So,” Harry starts finally, finishing up whatever he needed to do to get the boat off the dock and on the path he wanted. They were moving out into open water, she could see the little town, but it was growing smaller by the minute. Her stomach churned again as she looked up at the man she had just trusted to take her out onto the ocean. She grimaced slightly at the thought.

“Do you want to see the inside?” he continued.

She nods eagerly, “Finally!”

He chuckles lightly before opening up the hatch and gesturing for her to go first. She looks at him hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trap right? It’s not going to be all...murder-y down there?” Her voice is pitched higher, she’s almost completely serious.

This time Harry’s laugh comes from his belly, almost doubling over at the word ‘murder-y’. Between laughs, he tries to reassure her. “God no...oh my god.” More laughter, then a deep breath. “The only evil entity on this boat is the diavola I invited on here,” he gestures to her standing in front of him and her eyes narrow. Displeasure washing over her features.

“You’re ridiculous,” her hand swats at his sternum before she turns from him and climbs down to the underdeck area.

When she’s down, she’s surprised with her surroundings and she doesn’t notice Harry follow quickly behind her. It’s neat and stylish. Well, she’s not completely surprised, Harry was very fashionable. But the neatness dissipated all thoughts of the improbable scenario where Harry had lured her on his boat to murder her. It was what she had been freaking out over when she had at first refused to enter.

There was a small daybed at the end of the hall that doubled as a couch, a door to a bathroom, a dining area, a kitchenette, and then the random area they were standing in. It wasn’t super spacious, it was a hallway with things around it, but it was clean and it smelled nice. Everything had a place and they were neatly put in their places. After a moment, she turned at the feeling of Harry’s presence behind her.

He grinned, scanning the areas her eyes had just taken in for the first time. His green eyes were filled with admiration. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, smells like you.” She nods matter of factly.

“Huh?” His head whips to her, sure he hadn’t heard her right.

“The whole place is very you,” she looks away from him and walks down the hall to the daybed and takes a seat, “Styles-ish.”

He follows quickly behind, shaking his head out of his own thoughts.

He mumbles a thanks, not catching the play on words she’d used with his last name. She smiles to herself, pleased. He stands in the doorway, not really wanting to sit beside her. Maybe he didn’t trust himself with being in such close proximity with her anymore. No, not after last night.

Her eyes widen slightly when he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The sleeves of his button-up had been rolled up when he had been working with the sails. Her lips suddenly are dry and she wets them with her tongue, eyes moving to the fabric of the blanket she’s sat on top of.

“I meant to say,” Harry breaks the silence, obviously not a fan of the quiet. A hand leaves his pose and runs through his hair, rings classically tugging at his curls. He swallows before he speaks again, “Thanks, uh, for stopping me last night. That would’ve been weird…”

He trails off and her eyes go wide again, but now they’re trained on his face. His eyes are downcast now, watching the way light plays off his rings. She tries to make out the sound in his voice, the expression he’s trying to hide with indifference. Her teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks, silence once again taking hold of the small, small room. The air is tense, static, unmoving, the complete opposite of the water that rushes just outside the walls of the boat.

She clears her throat and Harry locks eyes with her, “No problem...alcohol and atmosphere, clouds the head. I get it.” She did, but she also hadn’t wanted the gratitude Harry had just placed on her.

“You booze, you lose,” he smiles, straightening up and she looks at him quizzically.

“That’s such an odd phrase.”

“No it’s not!”

“It’s a play on ‘you snooze, you lose’ right?” She leans forward, face looking smugly up at Harry’s offended face.

“Well, yeah,” Harry admits.

“I can’t believe you made that up and got it tattooed,” She states breezily and then stands. She brushes past him to look around the rest of the cabin.

Harry scoffs, not even noticing the way her fingers had brushed over his naked forearm as she passed, too focussed on his indignation. “How’d you know about the tattoo?”

“Naked neighbor? Never closing his shade? Do you seriously need a refresher course already? Seriously, boat boy, I really thought you were smarter than that,” She talks as she snoops around the different parts of the cabin. She pokes at figurines and looks at little photos and paintings. Her head looks over her shoulder and she laughs happily at Harry’s face of irritation. It was so easy to push his buttons.

“Don’t call me boat boy,” he seethes, but she knows he’s not really mad. More like he’s a child who got told no dessert before dinner. A laugh rocks through her body again and bubbles to the surface. It causes Harry to soften, this time there’s no alcohol in his system to account for the feeling he just felt. He mirrors the smile she has. That is until she reaches the kitchenette and finds a rack of CDs sitting beside the sink.

She turns from him and begins to leaf through them, most of them are artists she recognizes. But then she reaches some that are just titled “Demo” with various numbers beside the word. Her fingers nimbly pick out “Demo #1” and turn back to Harry with an inquisitive gaze. His green eyes are bigger than usual, the smile gone from his face.

“These from the boy band days?” She smiles wider as he turns a little red. She crosses closer to him, remembering the sight of a cd player in the main area where the entrance to the cabin was.

“Erm..no.” She flips around again, confused again, but then it dawns on her. “Demos for my solo work.”

“That you put on hold to take over for your Uncle.”

“Great Uncle.” He corrects.

“I know.” She waited a second, where she was about to be quick to play the CD, she now wanted to get Harry’s permission. It might be a little more personal than she had first thought. “Can we listen to this one? You’d technically be taking me up on the request to play for me sometime.”

“Yeah, they’re rough - obviously. So if you could try to not bruise my ego, at least not more than you usually do,” he grins and she looks at him with dead eyes. A smile cracks on her face quickly, still.

“I wouldn’t...this is different,” she struggles to find the right words. She would never make fun of something he cared a lot about, not now. She wasn’t that person, it was odd to think he maybe saw her like that. She shook away the thought and focused on placing the CD in its player correctly.

The first song begins to play, he’s right it is rough, it’s a demo. There’s no backing vocals or beat of any kind. Just a voice and a guitar. And it’s amazing. After the guitar intro, she lets out a breath she had been holding when she hears the voice. His voice. It’s beautiful. And she’s shocked, her eyes flash to Harry. He’s nibbling at his bottom lip, watching her hear it for the first time. His voice from all those years ago.

“Brooklyn saw me empty at the news, there’s no water inside this swimming pool.”

Her eyes light up again at the lyrics and she smiles, finding it melancholic yet slightly funny at the same time. It was interesting, the words, his voice, the meaning. Some bits of information eluded her, but she knew she enjoyed the song.

“And I’ve been praying, I never did before.”

Even as the song moved on from this one lyric, she felt it replaying in her head as she watched the singer in front of her. Years older than he had been when he had written this song. She was filled with questions and paused the CD as the guitar faded out.

“That’s it?” Harry laughs, “Just one song? It was really that horrible?”

“Oh my god, no!” She is emphatic, needing Harry to understand she’s serious. She takes a step closer to his figure. He had traveled closer to her while the song had played. They were almost chest to chest and her hand goes out to touch his forearm. “I really liked it, genuinely. I just needed a moment before the next one.”

“Bracing yourself?”

“Stop, I’m serious. It was beautiful. Your voice is wonderful, Harry.”

His eyes sparkle at the praise, finally believing she’s not taking the piss. Then his eyes dropped from her gaze, “I was a lot younger then, was 21 I think when I recorded this demo.”

“So? A voice like that doesn’t just disappear, dude.” She looks at him with a finality in her expression before dropping the hand that was firmly gripping his tattooed arm and turning back to the CD player.

Harry bites his lip as another one of his early songs plays over the shoddy speakers. His voice repeats “Meet me in the hallway” over the solo guitar. There’s no echo or bass, no count in like the final song was supposed to have. It’s just him and his guitar, before he chose to leave it all behind.

His voice is sadder here, she notices and she visibly winces at “just take the pain away” and “just let me know, I’ll be on the floor” and his repetition of “gotta get better.”

How did this man, who seemed fazed by practically nothing, have so much hurt in him to write both of these songs? Her eyes welled with water, but she blinked them back still staring at the singer before her. He was watching the CD spin in the player as his voice came through the speakers. He was lost in thought, in memory. Maybe she was lucky, these weren’t memories for her, she was only hearing his interpretation of his life. She hadn’t had to live that pain first hand. This time she doesn’t pause before the next song.

The next one seems more produced than the last two. This one starts with drums, a step up from the last two acoustic demos in respect to production. A big crash and then a wailing guitar and an accompanying voice. His voice is stronger here, more sure of himself. And then it changes again, melancholic once again and her heart strings are yanked at again.

“We’re not who we used to be, we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.”

The guitar continues that sad tone for a riff and then goes back to strumming beneath his voice. She shifts her eyes to him again and sighs softly, it weighs heavy on her soul that the man next to her has seemingly been through so much heartache. He looks up at “We don’t see what we used to see” and she holds his gaze, brows knit together in confusion and sadness. She pauses this time, finger reaching out without looking.

“This is depressing, please tell me they’re not all sad songs or I might as well have turned on a pet rescue commercial.”

His smile etches on his face, in a small knowing smirk and he crosses into her personal space. She’s about to step back, but he reaches out and softly bats her finger away from the pause/play button. She smiles back, shuffling to lean against the counter beside him. It was unusual for them to be on the same side of the counter, much like last night at the bar.

“There’s six songs on this demo. Three sad, three…” he trails off, looking at her expectantly. She nods. “You gotta learn to be a little less impatient, hmm?”

“Not impatient, just trying to brace myself for more sadness. I thought I had been promised a day of fun,” she grumbles.

“I wasn’t the one who suggested a demo listening party,” his brows raise and she twists her mouth to the side at his smug response.

“True,” she finally concedes with a murmur.

He presses play and a new song comes on that is more upbeat than any of the other’s that have played so far. It also seems to be a bit more produced than the first two. Her hand rests on the countertop and begins to tap, she quirks her brow at the first lyric “she’s got a family in carolina, so far away, but she says I remind her of home.” A girl who likened Harry Styles to the South of the United States, interesting. As she listens to the lyrics, she smirks at the massive crush he must have had to write this song. The “good girl” lyrics bounce around in her mind and her mind drifts back to last night. Would it have felt good? To kiss Harry?

Then, she’s brought out of her reverie with “I met her once and wrote a song about her”. Her eyes widen and look to Harry again inquisitively as his past self muses over how good this girl felt. He wrote about a one night stand? That woman must have been magic. That was all she had to say about that.

“Really?” She asks incredulously, folding her arms over her chest. His gaze flickers at the movement, human nature. He presses pause.

“What?”

“A one night stand earned that?”

He looked at her seriously, like the answer was obvious. She laughs before continuing.

“You’re a simp.”

“I’m sorry?” He sputters at her statement immediately.

She raises her brows as a response now. Nothing else to say.

“She wasn’t a one night stand,” he defends, “She was a blind date...and it had been after a dry spell.”

She starts to laugh, about to give another snarky response, but he adds, “And I was twenty-one.” The numbers specifically enunciated.

“You’re still a simp in my book...but I liked the song. It was catchy, rock vibes in there. I don’t know about her telling you remind her of Carolina - north or south, I don’t see it.”

He eyes her warily, still not happy with her titling him that gen z term that was super popular all over the internet. He took her in and he knew she was only three years younger than him, he was pretty sure, yet she used ‘simp’ and ‘vibes’ like they were lexicon words. He didn’t hate it, it was just different than what he usually heard in the little border town. Italian not having translations for things like that, English was so interesting, internet language was so interesting.

“I-” He starts and stops. “She said it. Was she right? That’s not my place to judge.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N pressed, words dragging out playfully, “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be a reminder of the U.S. South, but okay...simp.”

“I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I’m throwing you overboard and I won’t feel bad about it.”

Her eyes widen and then she smiles, he cracks a smile too. They huddle back around the CD player, ready for the next song. It starts with a strong guitar and drums, again well produced compared to the acoustic earlier ones.

His voice in this is far more shaky, unsure of himself again. “Let me take my medicine, take my medicine, treat you like a gentleman,” comes through the speakers. She shivers and looks at him, her fingers tapping along to the beat. The instruments are strong where his voice is soft, it doesn’t exactly fit, but she likes the lyrics still. When it gets to the pre-chorus, that’s when she knows she loves the song.

“I had a few got drunk on you and now I’m wasted, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (tasted)”

When his voice pitches high for ‘wasted’ she loses it. Her body moves with the instruments and her eyes close and her head wiggles. Harry smiles happily as she dances for the first time to one of his songs. The last word must have been shouted by his bandmates, because she doesn’t hear him say it.

Then the chorus hits and she wonders how it got even better. Her eyes shoot open and she just stares at Harry, her jaw slightly dropped.

“If you got out tonight, I’m going out tonight cause I know you’re persuasive! You got that something and I got me an appetite now I can taste it”

His past self sings of getting dizzy and his voice moans into the mic the demo was recorded on. She’s blown away. It sounds so hot, his voice gaining confidence during the pre-chorus and the chorus to have an all around rockstar sound.

The present Harry just taps his rings together as he watches her, studying her reaction with an even-tempered expression. Why isn’t he screaming like she is on the inside? When it gets to the second verse she’s bracing herself for what’s to come. This song has her pulse racing and blood flowing wildly around her body. She’s buzzing from it.

“The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with him and I’m okay with it”

The electric guitar follows the line up and she thinks she’s going to pass out on this boat right now. Flamboyant Harry. Was this what Marie had been talking about. The wild side of Harry she really had never seen, embodied in one song. She wanted more of it. Still all she got was the Harry on the demo rocking out to his song. She can hear him smiling through the recording, the sad boy from a few songs ago was now feeling euphoric. She just wanted to dance the night away with him.

Then another pre-chorus: “I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (ride it)”

His voice goes high again for ‘like it’ this time and her question of what is to follow is quickly answered with the bandmates screaming ‘ride it’ into the mics they must have had. It’s punctuated with the drums and other instruments. A noise escapes the back of her throat and Harry looks at her both smugly and amused. She rolls her eyes in response, trying to convince Harry that she hadn’t just had images of him singing about how good someone rides him flash in her mind. Even more so with the images of someone, namely her, being the object of his dreams. Doing the things he said he’d dream of. That, that was definitely not what she was thinking about. Definitely not. Her throat was dry and she swallowed hard. Harry’s eyes never left her face. Watching every reaction, gauging it and storing the information elsewhere for the time being.

She sings along to the chorus, trying to focus on the song, it was easy to pick up, but then the damn moans. And then there’s a guitar solo that sounds like sex itself and she’s baffled that this was an unreleased demo, not a famous rock song. Harry in front of her can’t stop himself from tapping his feet at this part, a little dance forming on his body as his eyes finally leave her figure. They close as he feels the music, the memory of his friend playing the riff clear in his mind and how much he had loved it. It builds up again and then there’s a final chorus. She watches him now as he dances in the confined space. His mouth opens to sing along to the “la la la’s”

It ends and goes straight into another upbeat song. It seemed like a complimentary song to the one that had just played.

“I don’t want your sympathy, but you don’t know what you do to me, oh Anna!”

His voice sings strong again. Harry before her composed himself again, going back to his watching position. He took in her tapping and smiling to the song. He also mouths the words slightly as it plays, the lyrics clear as the day he finished writing them almost 4 years ago. One of the final ones for this demo.

“Hope you never hear this and know that it’s for you, don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth”

She smirks at him, now, with the earnest lyrics, about to say something, but then notices the change in the guitar. It switches from the epic riff that was going to a more familiar tune, “Faith” by George Michael. She looks at him, a cheesy grin on her face as the voice begins to sing the chorus of that song. Her body begins to dance to it, like an old man doing the twist. She’s not ashamed and Harry loves it and joins her by mirroring the movements.

When the song comes to an end, they’re one large giggling mess. She falls into his arms and he holds her steady, their laughter coming out with freedom.

“Thanks for making me be patient,” She looks up at him, “it was worth it!”

He smiles, backing up slightly, “It’s like I knew what I was talking about.”

“Ok smart guy,” she teases with a silly voice. “I’m assuming whoever Anna is, isn’t actually named Anna then...?”

Harry hums and makes a twitch of his brows, but doesn’t respond. Instead he grabs her hand and she squeaks slightly, he pulls her to the ladder and prompts her to go up. She obliges silently and lands back on the top of the boat now. She looks out and sees the little town to be off in the distances now, shining blue water all around the creamy white boat.

Harry stands behind her now and shuts the hatch easily. She looks at him warily, confused by his silence. He extends his hand to her this time and she takes it. He leads her to the front of his boat. They’re moving, but so slowly you’d barely notice. There’s a loveseat of sorts right at the front and Harry sets her down in it. She smiles at him with caution, still bewildered. He leans against a part of the boat that stands in front of the seat.

“It’s beautiful, right?” He asks.

Her eyes have been looking around her, but they’ve mostly been trained on Harry. She was mesmerized by him now. His music, his boat, his clothes, his everything. She was seeing him in a new light. In a completely brand new way that had her unable to take her eyes off of him.

She nods finally when Harry looks at her expectantly. “It’s amazing,” she breathes.

His smile is the half-sided grin again. Beautiful big teeth on display with a little part of space between them. His dimple pops out and once again her eyes are on his face. She realized going on this boat with Harry might not have been such a good idea.

He folds his arms, her eyes flicker down. Every movement he makes, she doesn’t want to miss it. Even if she also is telling her mind to shake it off, she can’t. It’s like a spell.

“Obviously Anna is a pseudonym,” he says finally, eyes watching where the boat was taking him. She nods in approval. He pauses, watching the little waves, but she knows he has more to say.

“What did you think of the rest of it?” He asks quietly, gaze never going back to her. He knew she’d teased him a little and had danced along to some. She’d looked at him with wide eyes at some lyrics, but he wanted to know what she really thought.

She can tell he’s nervous, but she doesn’t understand why. They were all very good songs, his voice was beautiful, the lyrics were interesting. She didn’t understand his lack of confidence. His first time not exhibiting his usual self-assured - self-absorbed, even - personality. She bites her lip in confusion and his brows knit together, further showing his apprehension. The wrinkles in his forehead show up more prominently and she’s reminded that Harry is 26. He’s a different person now then he was back when he recorded that demo. Maybe there was a reason he kept them on the boat. She felt unsure in her response now.

“They were all great, Harry.” His face softens immediately. “Each one was beautifully written and sung. The ones that were acoustic sounded wonderful as did the ones with your whole band. I’m honored to be someone who got to hear those masterpieces.”

She wanted to tell them they should be famous songs, but she had a feeling that might not have the effect on him that she wanted. He had chosen a little quiet life in the little border town. She didn’t think he would want to hear how his music could have made it big time.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, just about the sounds of the sea. He lets a closed mouth smile twist onto his face, but it feels like he doesn’t fully believe her. She wants to kiss his worry away, but again, she knows it’s not possible. His words from earlier rang in her head. It would make things weird. Yeah, you’re right. Ugh, why had she agreed. She didn’t agree, not at all, not anymore.

“Did you have a favorite?” He stands up straighter with his question.

She laughs slightly, “I liked the second to last one a lot. It was hot.”

“Hot how?” He steps closer, smirking.

She jumps up from her reclined seat, in indignation, “Oh come on, you know it’s hot. Now you’re just looking for me to stroke your ego! It’s obviously about sex.”

“And? You’re the one who’s saying it’s your favorite and blushing.” He arches a brow at her, arms going to his hips and looking at her teasingly.

“Well, you’re the one who was singing about sucking dick and dreaming of how someone rode you.”

“Is that what it’s about?” His voice raises as he purses his lips and raises both of his brows.

She realizes just how worked up he’s gotten her in such a short amount of time. She huffs and turns away from him with a flick of her hand. “You’re infuriating.” Is all she can say. She looks out at the waves now, ignoring Harry even though he’s less than a foot away.

He’s laughing behind her for a little. Then when she doesn’t turn around, he quiets and she’s not quite sure where he’s gone. Then his breath fans over her neck and right shoulder, where her jacket hasn’t managed to cover her. It’s warm and a little minty as the scent travels over the salty sea air. She doesn’t turn or move a muscle for that matter.

A hand reaches out to her shoulder, but still she makes no move to turn. It rests there for a minute and she simply huffs again, letting her shoulders rise and fall dramatically. A single laugh slips from Harry’s mouth.

“C’mon diavola, don’t be like that. S’all in good fun.” His voice is low in her ear, sultry even. It reminds her of his voice in that song once he got into it. His voice sounds like sex in her ear and this time when she sighs it’s not because she’s irritated with him. No, she wants him. The sigh has an undercurrent of that desire and she hopes Harry doesn’t understand that. But otherwise she stays quiet, letting him murmur into her ear with his hand on her shoulder and his chest pressed to her back now. The only witness of this exchange is the ocean before them.

His head leans closer and if she didn’t know any better it felt like he was about to press a kiss to her neck. Instead all she feels is the brush of his mustache, it tickles the shell of her ear and she can’t keep in the giggle. She twists away from the sensation and Harry is grinning at her when she faces him.

His hand still on her shoulder and his body still pressed close to hers. He’s so warm and so close and so shiny new in her eyes, even if he still manages to irritate her. Her eyes flicker up to his as their laughter quiets down. She realizes her own hands have gone to his waist to steady herself and she follows his feet as he backs them up from the edge of the boat that she had brought them too.

It’s quiet again. They’re staring at each other intently. Her eyes are swirling with emotion because she just wants to know what’s going on in the brain of the man before her. She wants to know everything about him, but she knows that’s not how he feels about her. Sure, they’re friends now, but nothing else.

Why did she have to come on this stupid boat and find his stupid amazing music? Why did he have such a stupid amazing face?

These questions and other silly things were racing around her head as she gripped his waist. He didn’t mind her quietness, he found her gaze to be a little unnerving, but he was just glad he had made her laugh. He found that he didn’t enjoy her anger at him as much anymore.

Just as he was about to start another conversation, there was a cloud that drifted over the shining sun. It was her original fear come to life. Harry’s brows furrowed as he looked up at the clouds. They were turning grey. Fast.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He began mumbling and released his hand from her shoulder. He pulled away from her hold and began moving swiftly around the boat. He needed to get them off the water, there was a storm coming.

Her eyes went wide as she noticed the approaching storm as well. Her brows furrowed with worry as she watched Harry begin working on the boat, his only words being curses to himself at first.

Then he enlists her help, asking her to hold onto a specific part of the boat for him after he threw her a life vest and made her put it on. She wore it with great dissatisfaction. He only shrugged as he continued to move nimbly around the boat, turning them around, back to the dock.

The boat moved much swifter into the shore than it had on their way out. The waves were growing choppier by the minute and she would admit she was more than a little scared. Thankfully, Harry knew what he was doing and got them there quickly and safely. Once at the dock, he tied them there and then helped her off the boat. She stood on the dock uncomfortably as the rain started to come down.

“Give me your lifevest!” He gestures from the boat.

She quickly takes it off and flinches when the first bout of thunder sounds from far off. He takes it from her and throws it haphazardly down the hatch along with his own before jumping off the boat himself. He surveys the boat from the dock to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Then he looks at her. She’s wrapped her arms around herself and is ducking her head, looking like she’s attempting to ward off rain but failing miserably.

She looks up at him and he offers a soft smile of reassurance.

“Take my hand!” He shouts slightly over the growing sound of rain and thunder. He wants to get them out of the rain, but he’s also apprehensive to leave his boat to the mercy of the weather. Still, that’s all he can do.

She puts her hand in his and his fingers weave with hers. Then, they’re off racing back to their street in the little border town.

“I should go back to my place!”

“Don’t be silly! France is much too far for you to go in this weather!”

She laughs and grips his hand tighter as he fumbles for his key. His wet hand slipping as the rain droplets soak their clothes and skin. Even though her door is a mere few feet away she allows Harry to pull her into his shop. The warmth and dryness appreciated after running a few blocks in the now torrential downpour. There weren’t storms often in the little border town, but like the old adage said ‘when it rained, it poured’ quite literally. The less she had to travel in the rain the happier she was, even if it was three measly feet.

It also occurred to her that she’d be able to sit out her first storm with someone by her side. And she would admit that didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of storms and being in a new place with a storm she’d never weathered before was daunting. Harry inviting her in was a blessing. She didn’t have to be asked twice.

Once inside the little shop, their wet frames begin to form puddles beneath themselves. Harry sighs and takes off up his rickety stairs. She looks after him in confusion but stays put when he calls a quick “Wait there!”

She shakes a bit of the rain from her and shivers as she listens for Harry’s movements barely audible above the crashing of the rain water. When he returns, her breath catches in her throat, like she just choked on something, yet there’s nothing.

As he walks down the steps, far slower now, his wet hair shakes out around his head forming some ethereal halo. The light from upstairs illuminates him and the darkness outside casts an ominous darkness as he descends.

“Un ange…” She whispers after finally catching her breath.

If he hears her, it doesn’t matter. He’s already beginning to smile widely just from seeing Y/N before him.

He skips the last step and crosses to her swiftly. “Let’s get you dried a little more,” he begins to dote. A matching smile spreads on Y/N’s face out of appreciation. She still can’t manage to fend off the shivering and Harry’s smile falters. His hands leave the towel and trace her exposed skin. Her cheek feels like ice, only slightly warming under his touch.

“You need dry clothes,” he mumbles.

Her eyes widen as she looks up at him. He’s so close and so attentive and she wants to ask him to kiss her because they’ve been going back and forth all day, but he’s right she’s freezing. His eyes are so intense though she can’t even maintain eye contact. Instead her gaze flits up to the droplet beginning to swell down one of his rogue strands of hair that flopped over his forehead moments ago.

She doesn’t respond as she watches and Harry begins to worry more. Her eyes seemingly unfocused, her shivering, and her silence. He thumbs over the apple of her cheekbone and finally breaks her reverie. The droplet splashing between them without her as its audience.

“C’mon,” he tugs her hand now to bring her upstairs.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles series #little border town #harry styles one shot #harry styles af #ahghsgjfgkjdfkg #literal keyboard smash #its been so long #and no one is going to read #do y'all even remember me omg

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dark-mnjiro · 4 years

Text

desperate measures . part one

Theme: post breakup/rekindle romance, sharing hotel room trope, multi-part fic, oikawa toru x f!reader

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (later), angst and fluff, alcohol use, also original character in this (only for plot purposes), aged up characters

Author’s Note: So I’m not sure where this idea came from other than taking a “bed sharing” trope and going maybe one step further with a “room sharing” trope. This is my first Haikyuu fic and I’m terribly nervous about posting it, especially as this fic is multi-part and a gift to the lovely @shinsotired who also made me this gif because she’s a gem and I love her so much. D: She pretty much encouraged me to write for haikyuu and forced me to watch the anime to begin with - so I figured I’d write her favorite character :P

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Part One

Bouncing your leg, you pulled his warm-up jacket, with his number one plastered on the back, closer to your body as your eyes lit up watching your boyfriend play his final match. You caught a glimpse of his chocolate eyes looking up in the stands for you, causing your breath to catch in your throat before embarrassment crept up your neck before burning at your cheeks. The whistle blew again before you watched him return his attention to the game as you watched him do his signature jump serve.

The entirety of Aoba Johsai erupted in cheers as you watched him ace another serve on the opposite side of the net. You jumped to your feet before throwing your arms around your best friend, Sumiye, sitting next to you. She giggled in response as you both peeled away from one another and turned your attention back to the game.

“Oikawa’s serves are amazing today!” she squealed.

“I know,” you replied, clutching his warm-up jacket closer to your body. “He and Hajime are doing amazing. This match has been insane. It’s like they’re playing a completely different team from the last time.”

“You know,” Sumiye said, grinning. “Oikawa owes them all ramen if they lose the match, at least that’s what Hamije texted me last night before I went to bed. Boys are so weird.”

You opened your mouth to respond when the entire crowd gasped forcing you to turn back to the match and seeing the score read: 24-25, favoring Karasuno. “...one more point and they win the set,” you whispered. You felt your spine go rigid as you watched the next serve take place.

“Don’t worry,” Sumiye said, grabbing your hand. “They always manage… no matter what!”

The words from the court of “CHANCE BALL” echoed throughout the gymnasium, pulling your attention back toward the game. Your eyes went wide as you watched Oikawa rush out of bounds at the ball after being knocked out by a fellow teammate. A rush of anxiety washed over you as you watched him point to Iwaizumi and manage to hit a perfect set toward him before tumbling into the seats along the sidelines. He jumped to his feet, rushing back to his vice-captain for assistance as Karasuno managed to read the play to set up to block the spike.

“COME ON!” Sumiye screamed out to Iwaizumi, jumping up onto her seat. “HIT IT HAJIME!”

To your relief, you heard Iwazumi make contact with the ball before slamming it down onto the Karasuno side before being received by the Karasuno captain, Daichi, before rocketing out of bounds. “YES!” you screamed, jumping up next to Sumiye on the seat. “IT’LL BE OUT NOW! THEY’LL TIE!”

“...oh no.” You heard Sumiye’s voice as you watched another member of Karasuno strike the ball back in bounds and toward the ace. The ball was spiked hard back toward Aoba Johsai before being stopped and hit into the net. You felt your stomach rising almost to your throat as your grip on Sumiye’s hand tightened before Mad Dog was able to strike the ball back into the air and over the net toward…

“Kageyama…” you said, your body beginning to tremble as you watched Oikawa move his position on the court.

“BLOCK HIM!” Sumiye screamed as Kageyama’s attempt to spike was blocked and struck the Karasuno’s vice-captain in the face before Kageyama moved to set the ball again.

Your eyes widened, noticing number ten on the other team on Karasuno’s side rushed towards the net at lightning speed. This had to be the secret weapon of Karasuno that Oikawa had always mentioned to you after every practice where you would greet him to walk home. Your boyfriend’s eyes were fixated on his rival’s movements before shifting towards number ten.

“N-no way, he broke the wall!” Sumiye shouted.

Oikawa quickly moved to slide across the floor before receiving the ball. The sound of contact with his hand echoed throughout the gymnasium before seeing the ball soar behind Oikawa. Your stomach fell to your feet as the whistle screeched over the roaring crowd. The ball had fallen out of bounds, earning Karasuno the winning point.

Tears beaded at the corner of your eyes as you took a step down from your seat. Your hands clutched Oikawa’s jacket even tighter before you felt Sumiye pull you into another hug. Her body trembled and you could almost tell she was crying with you. “They-they played so well,” she managed out before tightening her grip.

Placing your hands on her shoulders, you gently pushed her away and flashed her a tearful grin. “Let’s go see our boys,” you whispered. “They probably need us more than ever now…”

—

“Sumi—”

You watched your best friend sprint to her boyfriend, Iwaizumi, before she reached out and brushed the remaining tears in his eyes away with her thumb. It was clear he was embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable state by her but immediately pulled her into a bear hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. Sumiye’s arms snaked around his waist, returning the display of affection. “You did so well,” she cooed. “I’m so proud of you.”

Iwaizumi finally took notice of you standing behind Sumiye and a sigh fell from his lips before pulling away from his girlfriend. “Shittykawa is still in the locker room pouting,” he said flatly. “Maybe you can drag his ass out otherwise we can leave him here.”

“Hajime!” Sumiye hissed, smacking his chest. “Not now.”

He merely shrugged. “What? He is. He’s acting like a child,” he explained. “He’s upset she saw him lose…”

A giggle bubbled from your throat. “Thanks, Iwa,” you replied before racing toward the locker room. You slowly pushed open the door, careful to shield yourself from other guys that happened to be left as you stepped inside. “Toru?” you asked softly. “Are you still here? Iwa said you were…”

“I’m here,” he mumbled, sitting on a bench alone, resting his head in his hands. “I told Iwa-chan I wanted to be alone…”

You kneeled in front of Oikawa before placing your hand on his thigh. “Hey,” you whispered. “He figured I could drag you out so you didn’t miss the bus ride home.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he replied, refusing to look up at you.

“Toru… You did well.”

“...not well enough.”

Your hands moved to his wrists before pulling his hands away from his face. His dark eyes were swollen from tears as he sniffed back a sob. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you. He hid his face in your shoulder, trying to force back his tears. “You were amazing Toru,” you whispered, stroking his hair. “I was so impressed, especially that last set. You fell into those chairs just to save your team. You even landed on your bad knee.”

“...you noticed?”

You giggled lightly. “Of course I noticed. You were wincing when you got back to your feet. Does it still hurt?” You felt him shake his head against your shoulder before turning his head and planting his lips against your neck. “Toru, let’s get you changed and ready for the bus okay?”

“I just wish I could’ve faced Ushijima one last time,” Oikawa mumbled.

“Well seeing as you'll be a world-famous volleyball player one day,” you commented. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance to face him again, and win.”

He chuckled in response. “You think so?”

“I know so,” you replied, pulling back before kissing him lightly.

“...hey,” he whispered, grabbing your wrists gently. “I need to talk to you about something…”

Tilting your head to the side, your eyes blinked in confusion. “What is it?”

“Argentina called…”

Your stomach dropped to the floor, “Did they?”

His eyes gazed up to catch yours. “I love you. You know that right?” he said as you gave him a silent nod. Leaning his forehead against yours, a sigh fell from his lips before he closed his eyes. “If you want me to stay… I’ll stay for you. Just compete on the Japanese team—”

Pulling away from him, your eyes went wide, shaking your head furiously at him. “Absolutely not,” you tutted. “You will not give up on your dream just because of me!”

“But,” Oikawa mumbled, sheepishly. “I don’t know when I’d be able to see you again. I can’t just leave you.”

Your eyes softened. “But Toru, you deserve to chase your dreams. Please don’t let me hold you back…” you replied. As much as it pained you to say those words, you knew deep down you could never be responsible for keeping him from the team he had always dreamed of being. You just couldn’t do that to him. You cared too much.

Oikawa stared at you with confusion filled in his eyes for a moment before grabbing you up in his arms and hugging you tightly around your waist. “This isn’t—”

A lump formed in your throat as you hide your face against his neck. “Please don’t say goodbye… it’s not goodbye.”

—

“You WHAT—!”

“He’s going to Argentina…”

“But, what… HAJIME!” Sumiye yelled before turning her attention to her boyfriend and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. His bored expression was unchanging as she shook him in frustration, seemingly used to her outbursts. “He’s your friend!”

Iwaizumi let out an aggravated sigh. “Why is he my friend when he does something stupid?” he asked.

Shaking your head, you forced a smile. “We both agreed it was for the best,” you explained. “He wants to go. I’m not going to be the reason he regrets not taking his chance.”

“But you broke up!” Sumiye nearly screamed.

“Sumi… please lower your voice. People are staring at us,” Iwaizumi said before glancing back at you. “And you’re both okay with that decision?”

“Of course!”

“...but why?” Sumiye interjected. “You two were perfect—”

Your hand shot up to silence your best friend. “We decided if we were supposed to be together,” you said. “We’ll find our way back to each other.”

“In different countries?!”

“Yes.”

“Hajime—!”

“Yes Sumi,” he replied, rubbing his temples. “I hear you…”

“I’m going to text him—”

Iwaizumi snatched the phone from his girlfriend’s hands, holding it over her head, causing her to pout. “No,” He said, his voice going stern. “None of that. We aren’t interfering, Sumi.”

“Asshole! I can’t reach! Give back my phone!”

“You can have this back when you promise to act like an adult.”

“Don’t think I won’t climb you like a tree—!”

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbles from your throat as you watched the two. It was a much-needed break from the loneliness you were experiencing after you and Oikawa had ended your relationship. While it had been weeks, no one seemed to notice only because Oikawa spent so much time practicing even when you two were together. It wasn’t until Sumiye noticed you had returned his warm-up jacket and sweatshirts that she had begun to suspect something had changed.

“We graduate soon anyway,” you said mostly to yourself. “He’ll probably forget I even existed…”

“NO!”

Your attention was jerked back to your best friend as she shot a glare in your direction. “Sumi—“

“He could never!”

Iwaizumi sighed before covering her mouth. “If you two thought this was best,” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “Then fine. I won’t push either way…as for mouth here, she needs to respect both decisions on this.”

Sumiye peeled his palm from her mouth. “Mouth?!”

Another smile formed over your lips as you continued to enjoy this outing with your friends, and before you knew it… it was time to head home. You gave Sumiye a tight squeeze before bidding the couple farewell. Pulling out your phone, you sighed, scrolling through your texts. While yes, you and Oikawa had split, you were still texting back and forth constantly. Mutual breakups almost seemed a little more difficult than the more messy ones. You were both on speaking terms, conversing about meetups, and when you could stop by to drop off his clothes he had lent. Needless to say, it was a weird state to be in.

Tears began forming in the corner of your eyes, realizing that tomorrow morning - he would be leaving. His flight to South America was set and despite his family’s plea for you to join them, you had refused. Swallowing hard as you wiped away the tears, you knew deep down you couldn’t stomach the idea of him stepping foot onto that plane. Saying goodbye, wasn’t an option.

The street lights cut on as the sky began to darken as you made your way down the street to your home. It was so bizarre just how much life would be changing for everyone in the coming weeks. Oikawa was leaving for South America, while you, Sumiye, and Iwaizumi planned to stay behind in Japan and attend college.

“...hey, Y/N.”

You stopped in your tracks as you reached your home, finding Oikawa sitting on your front steps. Your eyes fell to the pavement below, wondering just what he was doing here.

“Hey Toru,” you whispered back.

“My sister says she tried texting you,” he continued. “But you didn’t want to come to the airport tomorrow.”

You fell quiet.

“If it’s because of the breakup, my family isn’t-”

“Toru no,” you replied softly. “It’s not because of that.”

“Then what? I want you to see me off…”

The corners of your lips dropped into a frown as the tears began beading in the corner of your eyes again. “I just can’t watch you get on that plane,” you forced out. “Please don’t make me.”

Oikawa’s eyes softened at your distress before taking a step toward you. He tried to reach out and touch your cheek in an attempt to comfort you. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me to go?”

“I do!” you exclaimed, the tears finally slid down your cheeks. “I want you to accomplish all of your dreams Toru! But watching you step foot on that plane tomorrow… it’ll kill me! Don’t you understand?!”

His brown eyes went wide with surprise at your outburst before his hand fell back down to his side. “Do you think this has been easy on me?” he asked, his voice strained. “I’m going to a country where I don’t know a living soul… for volleyball. While you and Sumi and Iwa-chan get to run off to college and enjoy more time together—” He paused briefly, choking back a sniffle. “And to find out you don’t even want to see me off?”

“Because… I know I said I wanted you to go,” you whispered. “But… Toru.”

He quickly took another step toward you before pulling you into him. His arms snaked around your waist as you buried your face against his chest. Your eyes slid shut as you took in the scent of his cologne, trying to imprint it in your memory. A small sniff came from you before you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. His grip tightened around your waist as you began to sob, wishing this wasn’t how it had to be.

“Toru,” you cried out. “I just…”

“Shh,” he whispered, planting a kiss on top of your head. “I know, I know you do…”

“Is it going to hurt forever?” you asked him.

“God, I hope not,” he replied honestly.

You pulled away from him, rubbing the heel of your palm against your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Oikawa tilted his head. “For what?” he asked.

“...this?”

He flashed a lopsided smile. “Oh please,” he said, waving you off. “I’ve seen you in worse states.”

“You know I love you, right?”

His smile grew wider. “And I love you.”

“Just don’t forget okay?”

“Never…”

—

But he had.

You both had.

You found yourself standing at your mailbox on the first floor of your apartment building as you thumbed through your mail. It had been years since that fateful night, and you found as time moved forward, the pain in your chest hurt less and less. You heard from him less and less, and before you knew it. It was strange really as the distance grew… you noticed he had started dating through social media until you were seemingly strangers. It was over.

Sighing, you noticed a pink envelope that seemingly stood out from the rest of the mail. You flipped it around before tearing into the paper, revealing lovely stationery inside, a wedding announcement, and one you had been waiting weeks for.

You beamed as your eyes traced over the intricate lettering as it was finally official: Iwaizumi and Sumiye had formally announced their wedding. While you had known details for months, it seemed even more real to see the announcement physically in your hands. You were thrilled for your two best friends and happily accepted the role of maid of honor for her.

Smiling, you pulled out your cell phone before unlocking the device and tapping on Sumiye’s name to FaceTime with her. You both squealed upon seeing the other before you held up the wedding announcement for Sumiye to see. “It’s gorgeous!” you squealed, happily.

“Oh my god! You got yours already! That was so fast!” your friend cried out happily. “God… I can’t believe how fast this wedding is coming. By the end of the month, I’ll be married. I’m getting nervous.”

“Cold feet?” It was Iwaizumi in the background.

“In your dreams!” Sumiye hissed.

“Have you warned Y/N yet?” he asked.

Confusion filled your eyes. “Warn me about what?”

Sumiye shot a glare toward Iwaizumi over her shoulder before turning her attention back to you. She flashed a nervous smile before letting a sigh. “...So. There’s something I have to tell you and I don’t know how you’re going to feel…”

“...what is it?”

“Hajime’s man of honor…”

“Okay? What does that have to do with—”

“It’s Oikawa. He’s flying up here from Argentina for the wedding. He’s staying for the month.”

You froze at the mere sound of his name. Things hadn’t ended terribly between the two of you but you could understand your friends’ concerns about the sheer awkwardness of your ex-boyfriend.

“It’s fine,” you said quickly. “It’s fine. It’ll be nice to see him.”

“You swear you’re okay with this?”

“Totally!” you added, shaking your head. “It’ll be fine. We just have to walk down the aisle together. No big deal.”

Sumiye smiled at you. “So when are you heading here? We have your room reservation set up.”

“This afternoon,” you explained, thankful the drive to the city was only about an hour away depending on traffic. “Is that okay?”

“Well, that’ll give us time to pick up Shittykawa from the airport. We can meet up with Y/N tomorrow.” Iwaizumi started, rolling his eyes. “The princess can’t be bothered to get a shuttle to the hotel so we’ll have to leave soon.”

“...how are you, two even friends?” Sumiye asked, staring at her fiancé. He merely nodded before exiting out of the video frame. “Just head to the hotel and we can meet up tomorrow.”

Chuckling, you shook your head. “Sumi, I’ll be fine and I’ll stop by your apartment tomorrow okay?” you said. “And we can start all the party plans!”

“Sumi! We need to leave!”

“Sorry,” Sumiye said, sighing. “Hajime’s excited to see Oikawa again so we have to go to the airport now. I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything okay! Bye!”

You waved to your friend before the video chat ended. A sigh left your lips as you adjusted the purse slung over your shoulder. You shut your mailbox, locking it before making your way back to your apartment to grab your suitcases and drop off your mail. You slowly opened the apartment door, tossing the mail onto the kitchen counter before grabbing the handles of your two suitcases before pulling them out and locking the apartment door behind you.

Anxiety began building up in the back of your mind despite your earlier sentiment that you would be fine seeing Oikawa again. It made you feel almost nauseous. Thankfully you two wouldn’t have to spend too much time together and figured that Oikawa would rather stay with Iwaizumi and the other boys for an impromptu reunion. You couldn’t help the smile that broke out over your features as you thought the boys would probably demand a volleyball game against the pro.

You perhaps it will be nice to see everyone again.

You opened the trunk of your car, tossing the two suitcases inside and slamming it shut. Making your way to the driver’s side of the car, you opened the door before sliding into the seat and starting the car. You wondered what Oikawa had been up to since moving to Argentina and playing for the national team. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t watched some of his matches.

“Ugh,” you groaned, gripping the steering wheel as you made your way toward the highway. This was going to such a long drive with your thoughts. “Damn it…”

Your hand moved to turn up the dial to the volume up on the radio, trying to drown out the thoughts of your past relationship bouncing around the walls of your mind. And thankfully, made the hour-long drive tolerable and before you knew it, you had arrived in the city as you parked your car.

Random dings from your phone alerted loudly before you were able to even exit your car. Random texts from the boys from Aobajohsai blowing up your phone in excitement to see you and the others again. Giggling, you quickly typed a reply announcing your arrival before receiving another message from Makki claiming “we know”.

Confused, you stepped out of your car before grabbing your bags from the trunk and heading into the entrance of the hotel. And the message made sense. You were instantly pounced on by members of Aobajohsai and slammed with a million questions about what you had been up to after high school and college.

“Guys guys,” you said, raising your hands in defense. “Settle down I can’t understand anything you’re saying when you all talk at once.”

“You look great!” Makki said grinning.

“Oh boy,” Matsun said, almost smirking at you. “Someone is going to have a heart attack when they get a good look at you.”

“When who does?”

“...Y/N?”

Your body went rigid as you recognized the voice behind you. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to turn around and come face to face with a ghost from your past. “Toru…” you whispered, noting the almost seemed taller and his muscles even larger. But you couldn’t help but smile when you noticed he still had the same smile from high school… despite the glasses on his face now.

“Hey…” Oikawa said softly. “How are you?”

“O-oh I’ve been great. Busy teaching, and running the girls’ volleyball club now,” you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “...since when do you wear glasses?”

Oikawa opened his mouth to reply before being struck in the back of the head. “He doesn’t,” Iwaizumi’s gruff voice said as he appeared behind him. “They’re fake. Don’t let him lie to you.”

“Iwa-channnn~” Oikawa whined as he rubbed the spot he had been struck. “That wasn’t very nice. I just got here!”

You watched as the two, old friends continued to interact and it brought a nostalgic smile to your face. It was so strange how some things never change no matter how much time had passed, but at the same time, you and Oikawa were so different now. He was a professional volleyball player for the national team in Argentina while you had stayed behind and become a teacher at Aobajohsai…

“Y/N?”

Your eyes widened as you heard your name. “Yes?” you said, looking up at Iwaizumi.

“If you’re able to wait an hour,” he said. “I have to run and grab Sumi from her mom’s. They were finishing up food plans for the wedding—”

Shaking your head quickly, you forced another smile on your face. “No no!” you exclaimed, much louder than you had meant to. “I can meet up with you and her tomorrow. I’m really tired from the drive and just want to lay down.”

Iwaizumi offered you a knowing smile. “I’ll tell her to call tonight.”

You nodded before heading to the desk to check-in before grabbing the card key from the desk clerk. A small sigh left your lips as you trudged to the elevator with your bags behind you. You stepped inside before pressing the third floor and resting your back against the elevator wall.

“Hey wait!”

Your eyes shot up to see Oikawa racing toward you. For a split second, you thought about hitting the door close button before putting your foot down against the door to stop it from shutting. Grinning at you, he glanced at the buttons and never pressed - you figured he would be on the same floor.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling. “I wasn’t sure I’d make it.”

Rolling your eyes, you chewed on your lower lip as anxiety began building in the pit of your stomach. “It’s fine. I figured we’d all be on the same floor,” you said, shrugging your shoulders lightly. The elevator dinged, catching both of your attention. The third floor, it read as the door slid open. Oikawa stepped aside, allowing you out first. You flashed him an awkward smile before making your way to your hotel room. You fumbled with the card in your hand as Oikawa came up next to you with a confused expression.

“What?”

He looked at you, then the room number, and then between both car keys. “This is my room.”

“No… they told me 305 is my room.”

“Jesus Christ…” he grumbled before snatching the card key out of your hand and examining it. “This-this can’t be right…”

“What?”

“How the hell did they give us the same room?!”

“What?!”

“They booked us to share a room!”

220 notes · View notes

mazzy-moon · 3 years

Text

A Lone Butterfly - Chapter 14

Title of Chapter: Hide Out

Word Count: 2.6k (mostly smut)

Warnings/Tags: Explicit Language, Significantly younger ofc, Smut, Foreplay, Sex

Pairing: Javier Peña (Narcos) x Isabel Cotrille (OFC)

Summary: After Javier leaves, Isabel's anger and frustration with him grow. Later, she and Javier are forced to confront each other, finally acknowledging the tension that's been building between them.

Notes: I didn’t want to give away everything in the warnings, but this chapter contains explicit sexual content. 18+ only, please.

This ended up taking me way longer to write than I imagined...

Hope you enjoy reading this. It’s a good one. x

Read it on ao3

It doesn't take long before Javier has left and Sanz shows up. I'm furious. He knows what the cartel did to me better than anyone, yet still he's forced me here against my will. I might as well go back to Oregon. I would be put back into Witness Protection, but at least I'd be more free than I am now.

I can tell Sanz isn't exactly enthusiastic about the baby sitting job she's been assigned, but she tries to hide it somewhat out of consideration.

"You know, he's only doing this for your own good."

"Don't start."

"But he's right. If you go and get yourself tangled up in this, we'll have an even bigger mess on our hands."

"I know." Arguing with her would be useless.

_______________

The day passes agonizingly slowly as I sit with my anger, unable to do anything about it. I try thinking about what I'll say to Javier when he comes back. Maybe I won't even say anything. I've never been a violent person, but I think if Javier were here right now I would slap him for putting me in such a position of helplessness. He said he trusted me once, though it's clear that can no longer be true.

At one point I try to lure Sanz out of the room by feigning hunger. She doesn't take the bait, and instead has food brought to us. I switch on the television in an effort to distract myself.

After a while, I've stopped counting the hours as they pass. The light outside suggests night is not far off. Worry starts to trickle in. Not for the first time today I wonder what Javier's team uncovered at the location. Did they arrive only to find out Matías lied to them? Was it a a set up? Despite my anger at him, I'm anxious to see Javier, to know he's okay. I get up from my seat on the couch, suddenly restless, and start pacing the room.

Sanz's phone rings and she steps outside to answer it. Once she's back, her calm demeanor from before is gone.

"Pack up your things. Peña's on his way and wants you ready to go once he gets here."

"But why-"

"You're not safe here any longer, just do as he says."

Fear replaces my anger. I don't argue with her.

Soon after my things are all stuffed into the suitcase, Javier crashes through the door. He barely looks at me before hauling my luggage in one arm and tugging me out the door with the other.

"C'mon," he says, his voice rough. "We've gotta get out of here now. The cartel knows you're in Columbia."

My eyes go wide as I allow him to lead me to the waiting car. He throws my things in the back before placing me in the passenger seat. He explains the details to me as we're driving.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"The Embassy's got a place a ways out, a hide out. You'll stay there until we get the cartel under control."

"So he was lying."

"Not entirely. When we got to the location, some of Matías's men were there. They ambushed us. Somehow, they must have found out we were coming. There's no way that's where they're keeping the girls though."

"How do they know I'm here?"

Javier's looks out the window, despondent.

"I went back to Matías's cell after the ambush, to confront him. During our... chat, he revealed that he and his gang knew the moment you arrived. Somehow, he's had eyes on you the entire time."

"Why not just send me back to Oregon?"

"We can't be sure they won't track you there also. They already have once. For whatever reason, whoever is operating this cartel is hell bent on getting to you."

I remain silent, stunned. How has the cartel been able to track my movements so closely? More importantly, why bother? They've already replaced me with at least a dozen other girls.

Javier and I drive for hours until it's well past dark. We pull up to a dirt road and drive down it for what seems like an eternity. As we near a little cottage, I notice a river bank running not far off. The car comes to a halt just in front of the house and Javier steps out to get me. The place looks like a setting for a horror movie, but I say nothing as we walk inside.

_______________

Now that the panic has settled somewhat, I remember the rage I felt from before. I remember the rough way in which he spoke to me, the way his hands dug into my arms as he tried to reason with me. And then, the door slamming behind him as he left, locking me inside. Deep down, I know he was only trying to protect me, but it still hurt. I wanted to be useful, wanted to help the women who were now in the same position I was once in. It seemed, though, I wasn't going to get that chance.

He flips the lights on and locks the door behind him. The place is surprisingly cozy.

"Are we safe here?"

"It's secure. Only a small number of people know this place even exists."

There's a tense silence between us as I consider bringing up what took place this morning. The events of the evening have made it seem less important. Before I decide, he beats me to it.

"I know you're still mad about this morning, Isabel."

I refuse to respond to him, so he continues.

"Just so you know, I wouldn't have done what I did if I didn't think it was the only way to keep you safe. If I had to, I would do it again."

My eyes meet his finally and I know he can see the defiance in them.

"I know you hate me for it. As long as I know I'm keeping my promise to look after you, you can hate me all you want."

I remain silent for a moment before responding.

"I don't hate you, Javi." I stare down at my hands, suddenly unable to keep eye contact as I make my confession. "I don't think I ever could. I just... don't like feeling like that. Helpless."

I glance back up to him, and his expression breaks me. Unable to control it, and annoyed that I can't, my eyes begin to water. I quickly look back down at my hands.

The floorboards creak as he closes the distance between us. He towers over me as he gently grabs hold of my upper arms.

"You're not helpless, Isabel. You never have been. Even when you were captured, you found a way out. It was you who took Matías's eye from him. You've always been strong. And brave. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve to be protected."

My throat closes up as his words warm me. Somehow he knew exactly what I needed to hear. I feel guilty for ever doubting him. I want to respond, but can't seem to figure out how.

He holds my face in his hands and brushes my tears off with his thumbs.

"Shh, baby, don't cry."

He pulls me into a hug. His smoky scent hits me and I feel instantly better. Clinging to him, I savor the strong feel of his arms around me. The urgency of our situation combined with our close proximity causes an overwhelming sweep of emotion to wash over me. I tilt my head, meeting my lips with the edge of exposed skin at his collar.

He groans. "Isabel."

I ignore him and go for his mouth instead. He beats me to it. His lips meet mine, gentle at first. He deepens the kiss almost instantly, and I feel his tongue sweep against mine. Not breaking contact, he backs me up until I'm flush with the wall.

As our mouths explore each other with tongue and teeth, his arms leave me to remove the leather jacket from his body. He comes back to me as soon as it hits the floor. His arms roam my stomach, back, and chest. As his hand comes up to gently grasp the base of my throat, he shoves one of his legs upwards, between both of mine. I gasp in his mouth as warmth pools to my center. His mouth leaves mine, trailing down from my cheek to my neck. At the same time, his right hand travels up to my breast, grasping it over my dress. My hips move involuntarily against his thigh. The friction causes a deep ache within me and I whimper at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Javier makes a sound that forces my hips to react again.

He places his hands on either side of them, holding me still. I open my mouth to protest, but before I can he hauls me up, forcing my legs around him. His lips meet my own once more as his tongue finds mine again. He backs away from the wall, aiming for the hallway. We don't break away from each other until we reach the bedroom and he sets me on my feet.

He leans down, moving his hands from my body up to my face.

"Isabel. If we don't stop now, I may not be able to," his eyes are closed as he utters the strained words.

"I just want you, Javi." I touch his jaw with my fingertips. "Please," I mutter, my voice breaking.

The single word that comes from him is barely a whisper.

"Fuck." He grabs my face once more and this time his mouth is gentle on mine, a stark contrast to the heated passion felt moments before. I fumble with his buttons, but his hands are quicker as he tugs off the shirt gracefully. I press my hands against his hard chest as his eyes study me. He holds me in his gaze as he removes my cardigan, leaving me in only the dress beneath it. He rubs one thin strap between two fingers.

"Is this okay?"

I nod, looking at him intently.

He pushes the strap down. The other one comes next until my sun dress falls to the wooden floor. There’s nothing under it except my panties. My arms fling to my chest in a sudden urge to cover myself up.

"Let me see you."

I allow him to guide my arms down back to my sides.

"It's not right," he mutters to himself as his eyes roam over my almost completely naked body.

I frown, suddenly insecure at his bizarre statement.

"It's not right that you're so beautiful, so sweet."

My cheeks warm at his praise.

"Lie down."

I back up until I reach the bed and allow him to push me back onto its softness. He props himself up on an elbow and continues to kiss me until I can't take it anymore. His hand lingers over my breasts- pinching, squeezing. Finally, he travels downward. He slips his hand underneath my panties, brushing over one spot in particular. When he removes his hand too soon, I softly groan in protest.

"Please," I gasp.

"I know what you want, Isabel, but you're not gonna rush me."

He moves then, leaving soft kisses down my abdomen until he's settled between my thighs. He doesn't waste time, pulling down my panties until their off and taking me into his mouth. When his tongue brushes against me the first time, my hands fly to my mouth. He breaks contact to look back up at me, and pulls my hands away.

"No," he says firmly, "I want to hear you."

He resumes his torture until the sensation becomes almost painful. His tongue moves against the sensitive area, faster then slow, bringing me closer and closer but never quite all the way. My hips writhe against him but he grabs hold of them, forcing me to stay still. The sounds that come from me are vulgar and if I were at all able, I would try and hide the moans escaping my lips. He doesn't stop until I practically beg him to.

"Javi, please. I can't- ," I manage to get out.

He lingers a few more seconds before crawling back up to me, his body hovering over my smaller frame.

He studies me, relishing my blushed and breathless state.

"I wasn't done yet, hermosa. I'll remember that later."

He kisses my mouth slowly. The obscenity of it makes our previous kisses seem ridiculously tame in comparison. As he deepens the kiss, he drops his hand once again. He brushes against the overly sensitive spot with his thumb and then eases a finger inside. As I moan into his mouth, I hear a groan escape him.

"You're so wet, Isabel."

My cheeks instantly heat as he says what is already obvious.

As he moves his finger slightly out and back in, the movements of his thumb slow, becoming even more tortuous. Once I'm nearly over the edge, he withdraws his hand and pushes off the bed, standing up.

He unfastens his pants and removes the rest of his clothing until he's completely bare. He stares down at me until my whole body is on fire.

“You’re beautiful like this, Isabel,” he says as his eyes take me in, ready and waiting for him.

His sheer manliness would terrify me if I didn't crave it so desperately. I let my eyes roam, ignoring my embarrassment. For as restrained as he's kept himself, it's clear he's been just as affected as I have.

He once again joins me on the bed, holding himself above me.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

I nod, but he's not satisfied.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

He shifts his body until I feel his erection right between my thighs. I part my legs as he slowly glides into me. The feeling is almost too much at first. Sensing it, he stops, but I urge him on.

"No- don't stop," I whisper breathlessly.

Once he's all the way inside I lift my hips off the bed to meet his. We set a rhythm against each other and the tension continues to build within me.

I'm so close but can't quite seem to get there. He reaches his hand between our bodies to touch me, finally giving me the release I crave. I come undone around him, and he swallows my moans with his mouth.

Javier continues moving against me, his thrusts becoming more erratic. All at once, whatever control he had before just... snaps. He grabs hold of me, keeping me still, as he thrusts into me with unrestrained desperation. His groans become feral as he comes inside me.

He drops his head to the crook of my neck, catching his breath. Once he pieces himself back together, his hand grips the side of my face. His lips fumble around my cheeks until he kisses my mouth, then my nose.

"You okay?"

"Yeah... I think so."

He laughs softly, leaning over me and onto his side. He brushes wisps of hair back from my face with his hand.

"Stay here, I'll be right back."

Javier escapes to the bathroom and while he's gone, I pull back the covers. They feel impossibly cool against my heated skin. He returns and joins me once again on the bed. My eyelids begin to droop from exhaustion.

"I'm so sleepy," I say absent mindedly.

"Come here."

He pulls me to him, cushioning my head with one arm and draping the other around my side. The blissful aftermath of our night together lulls me to sleep almost instantly.

Just as I'm drifting off, Javier whispers something in my ear. I struggle to make out the words, but they escape along with my last thread of consciousness.

#javier pena #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfiction #a lone butterfly series

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themagicalmysticalboy · 3 years

Note

John and Paul had a big argument about Brian, Paul still cant forget about Spain. It's a very cold and raining night, after very intensing session of drinking John appears under Paul's house, but Paul isnt inside...The next morning Macca finds frozen wet and limp figure curled at his doorsteps.

a/n: this has lit been in my inbox for so long and i feel awful. So sorry anon. hope you’re still around to see it <3

Three minutes.

That’s all it took for John to have Paul fuming. When the phone rang throughout the house he had half the mind to not answer at all, figuring it would be John. But now he was stuck on the line with a drunk and poorly apologizing Lennon. In reality, he was so incoherent that Paul wasn’t even sure if there was an actual apology buried in his mumbling. On the contrary, he seemed to be blaming Paul, if anything.

“Lemme jus- I’ll come… come over, yeah.” John hiccuped through his words.

“Don’t, alright? I’d rather not deal with you now.” He almost told John he wouldn’t be home, anyway, but that wouldn’t be clever. So, he kept his lips sealed on the topic.

“It didn’t mean a thing, Paul. Brian was just there.” He said it as if it explained everything.

Paul pinched the bridge of his nose, his other hand tightening around the phone with a death grip. “I don’t want to hear how it happened.” His voice almost didn’t sound like his own. “I don’t want to hear you blame Brian if that’s what you’re at.” John tried to interrupt but Paul only raised his voice higher. “He doesn’t even know we were together!” Paul’s eyes widened as his mouth snapped shut. Would John catch it? Or was he too drunk to comprehend it?

Deafening silence made Paul’s heartbeat in his ears. “You said ‘were.’” John’s words came out slow and almost sober. “Were together, Macca.”

Paul swallowed down the lump in his throat, his eyes stinging with tears he wouldn’t let slip. There was no going back now. “Yes. We were together.”

He slammed the phone to the receiver just in time to clamp his hands over his mouth, holding in a sob. Rained poured down outside his window as tears slipped down his cheeks. All he could do was stare at the raging storm and wonder if there was any way to fix what was now so painfully broken. He thought of calling off his plans with Mal and just staying by the phone for another call from John. But that was pathetic. He had promised to watch the football match with Mal a week in advance. There wasn’t a good reason- or at least one he could say out loud- to cancel. There was also the issue of not being able to move. Paul seemed immobilized with sadness and fear, quiet sobs escaping him as he stared into the haze outside his window.

He stayed by the phone for a while until a crack of thunder jolted him to life and he hurriedly wiped his cheeks free of tears. With some much-needed washing up in the bathroom, he was ready to go, wanting to leave before the storm became too much and he would be stuck in his house with only his thoughts. The idea of that terrified him into rushing through the house and hurriedly leashing Martha. She helped him in his hurry, not letting him think twice before tugging him along and to his car.

They made it into the car, assaulted by the frigid rain, shivering. Paul cranked up the heat as soon as the car was running, rubbing at his arms. The car ride wasn’t long enough for him to get lost in his thoughts, thankfully, and when he arrived at Mal’s the man kept them busy with snacks and other guests and drinks. Paul easily dropped into social mode and left his strife with John in the back of his mind. He knew it would rear up as soon as he was home, maybe even just in his car, but he wouldn’t ruin Mal and everyone else’s fun while he was there.

Whether it was the knowledge of having to face his own actions or the still-raging storm keeping him, Paul didn’t leave Mal’s house until very late into the night. Mal had suggested they play a board game to sober everyone up and it drug on until almost five in the morning. The rain was at a drizzle when Paul put his car into park.

He wanted to wait just a bit longer for it to come to a halt but Martha was wiggling around like mad, whining and pawing at his arm. He sighed, letting his forehead hit the steering wheel. “Fine,” he breathed.

She shot anxious glances between him and the door until he undid his seatbelt to lean over and pop the passenger door open. She shot out of the car and into the darkness with a happy wag in her tail the instant she could, leaving Paul to stare after her. Exhaustion mingled with dread, making him unwilling to go to his house. He sluggishly got out of the car. As he leaned back in to grab his wallet, Martha began to bark.

He dragged out a long sight, head dropping, before snapping back up and yelling out for her. She only barked louder, followed by a pained whimper. The pitiful sound shot a spike of alertness into Paul’s core. He yelled out again as he ran but the dog had gone quiet. Fear was shoving his senses into full throttle and he bolted to his doorstep.

When he finally arrived, he was struck still. The droplets of water now moved in slow motion, the biting cold a distant memory. His dread filled the void left by his other senses.

A figure was curled up on his doorstep, Martha nudging gently. With a rough nudge and a nip at the hair, the figure's head tilted into the dim porchlight. The aquiline nose and auburn hair of his John was illuminated. His mouth just barely open, eyes softly closed.

All Paul could do was stare in shock and horror. The world was thrown out of pause when a trickle of water sent a shiver down his spine. He was suddenly aware the rain had picked back up and the cold was whirled up with a nasty wind.

Words were leaving his lips but he didn't know what he was saying or why he was talking. All he knew was that he had to get John inside. Martha, bless her, was ahead of Paul, biting on to John’s collar and pulling him towards the door.

In a flurry of movement, the door was thrown open and John was dragged across the threshold. With a deep huff of breath, Paul lifted John into his arms. “John? Johnny, come on, please!”

He continued to plead as he rushed to the nearest couch. Once laid out, John let out a groan before curling into a ball again. He was shivering like mad, nearly vibrating off the couch.

“Hey, you’re alright,” Paul cooed softly as he stripped John of his soaking wet clothes. “Can you talk to me?”

“Where- wherewereyou.” His words rushed together in an airy gust before his teeth began to chatter.

Snatching up every blanket in eyesight, Paul wrapped him up into a tight bundle. “Do you need an ambulance? Should I call-”

“‘S fine.” His eyes cautiously opened, lulling around the room until they found Paul. “Where were you?”

“I’m phoning the ambulance,” Paul decided. He moved to leave John’s side but felt a strangely strong grip pull him back. He fell onto the cushion, sitting by John’s hip.

“I’m fine.” The words came out with a startling levelness, only to be followed by more chattering of his teeth.

Paul studied him, their eyes locked in battle. With a hum, Paul narrowed his gaze, “I’m getting you a warm washcloth.”

“Alright.”

Once a basin of hot water was filled and the fire was lit, Paul began his nursing. He fused over John as neither man uttered a word. Grabbing more covers and some pillows, Paul tucked him in tight and lifted his head to put down the pillows. All the while, Martha sat wearily at John’s feet.

Now thoroughly bundled, he ran fingertips along John’s temple and down to his jaw. “Sure you're alright?”

“I waited for you,” John said with malice, only to be betrayed by a faltering voice. Paul had not noticed the lingering smell of alcohol on his breath until just then. He was obviously no longer drunk, only sad and cold, but it must have taken a lot to pass out in the freezing storm.

“I was a Mal’s, love. Do you want a cup of tea? Or I could run a ba-”

“Stop!” John pushed at his mountain of covers and forced himself upright. “Get-”

Paul grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him only to be pushed away. They both tumbled from the couch, hitting the hardwood with two distinct thuds. Martha let out a bark but didn’t move.

Paul made to speak but as soon as he opened his mouth, John spat out, “Shut your bleeding trap and listen to me.”

His mouth was still hung open so he snapped it shut and gulped through a strained throat. John’s eyes danced viciously between his.

“I’m sorry! Alright? I’m sorry and I know I can never take it back but I am. I-” Tears were welling in his eyes. “It was so stupid. Stupid of me to try to shift the blame. Stupid of me to do it at all. But,” John’s hands were in his damp hair, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I love you.”

John was breathing hard and Paul felt he wasn't breathing at all. There was a delicate sheet of glass creeping between them. A single mistake could shatter it to the ground and leave them bleeding.

Much softer, slower, and steadier, John said, “You don’t have to forgive me. I don’t deserve it. Sure as hell don’t deserve you.” When Paul didn’t respond, John continued. “I was drunk when I came. Was quite intent on telling you off- maybe break a vase or two.” Paul huffed a pained laugh. “But I’m sober as I can be now. I just want you to… You should know how much I mean it when I say that I’m sorry. If you don’t want me any longer, that’s fine.”

The sheet of glass dissolved on the spot, melting into the wood and warming the space. There was a vague awareness of the short bursts of nervous laughter leaving his lips. All he could do was stare at the half-naked man on his floor that had just poured his heart out. He had no clue how much the thought of them being over had weighed on him until the moment the worry lifted away. Gathering himself for the sake of the confused Lennon, Paul scooted towards him and threw a cover over his shoulders. Biting hard on his own lip, Paul cupped John’s face with both hands.

“You’re the stupidest man I have ever met.” He smiled with all the sincerity and adoration in his body.

“I’m what?”

Paul laughed again, nerves completely drained from it, his hands moving to John’s shoulder and head falling into his chest. He breathed in the man, pulling him between his legs to hug him tightly. His skin was still cold, his body still trembling. “First of all, that’s all you had to ever say. Second, I’m just glad you didn’t kill yourself in the cold.”

John nuzzled his nose into the crook of Paul’s neck. “I’m slightly offended that me not dying was your second point.”

Paul only held him closer. “I hate you so much. But you’ll always be the love of my life.”

#i wrote this in a sleep deprived haze #so hope it’s alright #mclennon fanfiction #the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #the beatles fanfiction #ask #fic request

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puckinghell · 4 years

Note

idk if your still doing blurbs, their so good btw, but ❝ don’t you dare touch him/her. ❞ with carter hart or nate mac

Normally you love walking your dog, because it means going outside, getting some gentle exercise and watching her living her best life, but it’s a lot less fun when it’s raining this much.

“We might as well just step into the shower,” you grumble as you grab Kitty’s leash. She’s bouncing up and down with excitement, completely unaware of the terrible weather that is waiting for her outside. If she knew, she would probably just run back to the couch.

For such a big dog, she’s stupidly scared of everything, and that includes water of any kind.

Unfortunately you don’t have much of a choice. Dogs need to go outside and you already tried to put it off, having your morning cup of coffee first. But it’s 8am now and Kitty isn’t waiting anymore, her nervous pitter patter making it hard to enjoy your coffee.

The park is close to your apartment. It’s pretty much empty, which isn’t surprising considering the fact that it’s so early in the morning and the weather is this horrific. Big rain droplets are already soaking through your – supposedly water proof – coat, and you’ve stepped in too many puddles to keep your feet dry. You’re pretty sure you’re gonna have to lock Kitty in the bathroom when you get back to save your furniture from being ruined.

Maybe it’s the rain, or the time of day, that has you a little dazed. You’re paying attention, but apparently not enough, because later all you can remember is this:

There’s a movement to your right. Kitty jumps, wags her tail in excitement and pulls. The leash slips from your hands. And suddenly she’s gone, standing by a person who is definitely on the floor.

Oh fuck.

“Kitty!” you call, but she doesn’t listen to you. She usually doesn’t, to be fair, but it’s normally not as bad as now. You run towards the person: when coming closer, it’s very obviously a guy, now sitting up on the pavement.

And he’s petting your dog.

“I’m so sorry,” you exclaim, leaning down next to him. “Are you okay?” You yank on Kitty’s collar, pulling her away from him. “Don’t you dare touch him, Kitty, you’ve done enough damage!”

“Her name is Kitty?” the guy asks curiously, and to your surprise he’s smiling. He doesn’t even look annoyed, which means he’s maybe a psychopath, considering the fact that he tripped over your dog and is now laying on a wet, muddy park trail.

“Yes, and she’s very sorry.”

He laughs. “It’s fine. I’m alive.” He starts crawling up and it’s only when you’re both standing that you realize that he’s really attractive.

Like, stupidly, make-you-forget-how-to-talk attractive. And he’s grinning down at your dog with kind eyes, scratching at her head.

“You might wanna, uhm, go home and change?” You awkwardly motion towards his now wet and muddy clothes. Running clothes.

Was this idiot was going for a jog in this weather?

“Why, you don’t think this look suits me?” His smile is a little lopsided and a little sharp, his eyes fixed on you.

And if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he’s flirting with you.

To be fair, you think anything would suit this guy. But you can’t very well say that.

“It’s… eclectic?” you decide on, and he laughs brightly.

“Cool. That’s exactly what I hoped pretty girls would say to me when I bought these clothes.”

You’re stunned: he’s definitely flirting with you, which is maybe the most ridiculous encounter you’ve ever had. But he’s also really hot, so it’s also an encounter you’re gonna tell your friends about later.

Then you remember something else.

“Oh! Let me give you my number, I’ll totally pay for your dry cleaning. My name is Y/N, by the way. So you know whose name to put on the bill.” You laugh a little awkwardly, trying to get your phone out of your pocket with wet hands. It’s not as easy as it looks, and when you look up, you’re pretty sure he’s laughing at you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says. “I’m Carter. And I’m sure my washing machine can handle this just fine, but thank you.”

“Oh, right.” Stupid offer. Of course he owns a washing machine. Not everyone lives in dingy flats with laundry mats that look like they’ve been murder scenes, after all. “Well, sorry, again. I’ll have a very stern talk with Kitty when we’re home.”

You go to step back, pretty sure he’ll want to go home and get out of those wet clothes, when he holds up a hand, stopping you.

“Hey,” he protests, “I didn’t say I didn’t want your number.”

“Oh. But you said…”

“I said I didn’t need you to pay for my dry cleaning.” Carter raises an eyebrow. “I might want your number for other reasons.”

You’re pretty sure you’re blushing so much you’ve turned the color of tomatoes. And with the rain surely turning your hair into a wet mop, you really don’t get why this guy is interested.

But you’re not about to turn an opportunity like this down.

“Like to see Kitty again,” Carter adds with a grin, and your dog wags her tail in response.

Traitor.

But after all, she did turn your morning into the start of a romantic comedy movie, and you go home with your number in Carter’s phone and a text from him waiting on yours, so you can’t be that mad at her.

In fact, when he calls you later, you slip her an extra treat as a thank you.

#no more requests please!#carter hart #regular blurb #blurb

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bcbdrums · 3 years

Text

We Forget the World

A/N: Not a headcanon fic, just something I day-dreamed up one sleepy Saturday.

Happy birthday, @gofordrakgo!

Read on: FFn AO3

-----------------------------------------

We Forget the World

Shego stepped through the large beach door of the Caribbean lair and barely heard it close behind her as she stepped over the lava rock, looking both ways in the misty twilight for her boss. Or former boss... Whatever they were now; she wasn't sure anymore.

Ever since Drakken had saved the world, they had been in limbo about what to do with themselves. As days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, Shego found herself no longer dressing in uniform, as each day was just...an extended vacation at home. It reminded her of her former days as a schoolteacher, when summer vacation consisted of endless afternoons on the sofa, watching "The Cost is Correct" re-runs and eating watermelon out of the rind.

The difference now was, occasionally a henchman in plain clothes would wander past, make awkward conversation, and then wander back to the nothing they were doing as well, as they hadn't been given any direction. And another change: Shego was seeing less and less of Drakken.

She had thought about it and finally realized that the biggest change had come when the instant celebrity he had attained through saving the world had faded almost immediately. There had initially been some buzz about potential research opportunities, grants, and other things exhorting his work not just in creating the plant formula that had saved them all, but his other work as well. But all of that had gone away within a few weeks' time, and the world seemed to have forgotten him again.

Shego looked down at the surf rolling rhythmically against the sand, the waters dark for the cloud cover that promised rain that evening. And then glancing further to her left down the beach, she noticed the distinct sign of footprints in the sand. She stepped out of her sandals and made to follow the trail, stepping into the damp sand herself and letting the sea foam wash over her feet. The breeze blew the dark teal skirts of her sundress behind her, and she closed her eyes for a moment and tilted her face into the cool of the wind, feeling it gently move her long, black tresses away from her her cheeks and shoulders.

Shego had supposed that with the promise of potential fame and fortune through legitimate means, Drakken would give up villainy. But he hadn't said anything one way or the other, and the seeming opportunities had all vanished like a vapor. Thus, the entire lair was in a state of stagnation. Paychecks were still signed and delivered to her and the henchmen, but the boss...the mad scientist they all served...was hardly ever to be seen, and never spoke of plans for even a meager bank heist, let alone world-domination.

Following his clear footprints in the sand, Shego eventually came to a discarded pair of shoes and socks, and his iconic lab coat, folded and lain upon a rock. She continued on, realizing suddenly she had no plan regarding what she would say to him. She attempted to run over some options in her mind, but everything came back to the same simple question: are they heroes or villains? And whichever they were...what was next?

Shego had discovered the truth within herself during the Lorwardian invasion, which had startled her at the time, but which she had also accepted with a surprising calm and swiftness—she would follow Drakken to the end. She hadn't explored the depths of that yet, only knowing the simple truth that she would never leave him. But with time passing she found herself curious to find clearer answers about that as well.

Rounding a large rocky outcropping, Shego finally spotted the man. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows and his pant cuffs just above his ankles. His hands were on his hips, making his shoulder blades stand out even more than they already were for the Y-back suspenders accenting his masculine figure. As Shego got closer, she noticed the faintest sweat stains beneath the suspenders at his shoulders, suggesting he'd been out there since before the clouds had hidden the setting sun. He had also loosed his ponytail, and his shorter hair blew more freely in the wind than did her long tresses.

Shego took a breath as she continued toward him, not changing her pace as he was barely moving, staring ahead at nothing as he traversed the island's perimeter. What was she going to say when she reached him? Her mind was still completely blank.

The sky was dark for the rain-saturated clouds and would have blended in with the waters at the horizon but for the churning of the waves as the storm continued to roll in. Shego suddenly felt a shiver over her bare arms and legs despite the heat that always burned within her. She took a deep breath when she found herself within a few feet of Drakken and spoke the first words that came to her mind.

"Stay out here too long, you'll get struck by lightning."

"GAH!"

Long-used to his outbursts when she unintentionally (or intentionally) startled him, she only grinned when his leap into the air was even more dramatic than his scream. When he finished flailing and stumbled around to face her, his expression was furious with annoyance, but she could also see the distraction in his eyes that indicated he had been deep in thought.

"You can brood inside where it's safe," she continued, the mirth still in her voice, but softened a bit—why, she wasn't sure.

Drakken straightened and adjusted his collar where a couple of buttons had been opened to mediate the day's earlier heat.

"Why must you always do that?"

"Entertainment. There isn't anything else going on around here lately..." she said almost automatically, but regretted the words a moment later for the way Drakken's face fell and then became guarded.

"You, ah...have any ideas for our...next move?" Drakken asked cautiously, watching her with wary, wide eyes.

Shego set her hands on her hips. "This is your ship to steer. I'm just along for the ride."

Drakken's guarded expression didn't change, but Shego was sure she saw a tinge of disappointment in his eyes. She took a breath and continued.

"Why... You lose your compass?" she half-quipped, gesturing broadly to the roiling ocean and the dark skies.

Drakken's brow twisted in worry rather than annoyance, much to her surprise, and he turned to face the vastness of the sea, staring as his lips alternately pursed and thinned as he seemed to search for words.

None came. Shego took a step nearer.

"Drakken...?"

He took a long breath and released it slowly through his teeth, and Shego had the sudden impression he was trying to withhold some great emotion. He took a smaller breath, and then...

"No one wants me," he said quietly.

A half-dozen sarcastic quips came instantly to her mind, but something told her that to say any of them would be a worse disaster in that moment than an alien abduction beam.

"What do you mean?" she finally asked.

Drakken blinked in surprise and glanced at her uncertainly before continuing.

"The research positions...the television spots... No one is calling anymore. And when I call them, sometimes they say they'll call back...sometimes they say they're 'going in another direction.' It's all the same... The world changed its mind about me."

Shego felt something familiar in his words, even though she'd never heard them before.

"But everyone I know... All of the other villains don't want anything to do with me, now that I'm...a traitor," Drakken continued.

Shego wondered then if the other villains thought the same of her; that she was a traitor to evil for helping save the world. But that could be sorted out later, for the present problem was Drakken. And she was suddenly realizing at least some of what the problem was.

"We can't choose good or evil, anymore..." she said with quiet understanding. "Either way, we lose."

Drakken looked back at her, blinking in surprise as she had put it so succinctly.

"All I wanted...all I ever wanted was some recognition. My fair share. But..."

He trailed off again and took a few steps into the surf. After a moment Shego followed.

"Watch out for jellyfish... You know they show up more at this time of year."

Drakken was staring at the dark skies again, seemingly ignoring her words.

"Maybe they've all forgotten me because it...wasn't so big a feat, after all. Maybe I've...overrated myself."

Shego bit her tongue hard to keep from responding in jest, knowing it wasn't the moment for it. It took some effort, but she buried the instinctive caustic remarks and let him continue.

"It wasn't much, really... I guess I'm... I'm not that smart."

Shego glanced down at the shallow waves washing to their ankles, realizing only then that she'd stayed at his side as he'd walked into the surf. She took a breath and grimaced as she looked up at him again.

"Of course you are. And you know it. It doesn't matter who else knows it."

Drakken looked at her then, finally seeming to notice her.

"I know it," she added, looking straight at him. "Forget the world. They're ungrateful. They don't deserve you."

Shego moved to face him, her back to the waves. She pushed her hair over her shoulder as the breeze tried to move it into her face, holding his eye contact.

"And since when have we cared what other villains think? Not as if they've taken over the world, or done anything half as impressive as you over the years."

Drakken's expression suddenly became guarded.

"You...keep saying 'we,'" he said.

Shego realized she had been, but gave it no further thought and shrugged in response.

"Yeah."

For the first time in the almost four years that she'd known him, Drakken seemed to be at a loss for words. He took a step away from her, confusion falling over his features. He began pacing in a three foot square in front of her, looking at her and seeming to want to ask a dozen or more questions, but nothing ever leaving his lips.

As Shego watched him and waited, the 'we' she had kept saying and the resolve she already had that she would never leave Drakken suddenly began to blossom into to a new, deeper understanding. A smile slowly began to curl her lips upward.

"Dr. D.," she finally said, as quiet, incoherent mutterings had started to join his pacing.

He stopped and looked at her, the question strong in his eyes. She could no longer hold back the knowing smirk, but said nothing as she waited for him to come to the same understanding on his own. It wasn't long before a frightened determination took over his features, and then with a set frown he boldly approached her. His hands found her waist and pulled her flush to him, and despite herself a small gasp left her lips as her hands automatically moved to rest on his shoulders.

The fear in his eyes grew as she knew her smirk had faltered for the anxious fluttering that had taken over her chest. But she held his gaze and watched as his fear faded to wonder, though he was still uncertain. She was curious if her own uncertainty showed too.

After too long a moment, she swallowed nervously and moved her forearms to rest on his shoulders, bringing them closer.

"Well... You gonna continue this experiment, or what?" she asked.

Drakken's shoulders were rising with the quickening of his breaths, but after a moment he licked his lips once and then leaned in. Shego didn't hesitate to wrap her arms fully around his neck the instant his lips met hers, and she felt a warmth spread through her as his arms surrounded her possessively.

Shego hadn't...really considered this. But as the warmth flooded her entire being she knew it was right. How she hadn't seen it before was perplexing, but apparently he hadn't either. When their lips finally parted and they both panted for breath, noses still brushing, she felt the uncertainty that was still in his eyes. But despite herself, she grinned as a bubble of airy laughter escaped her lips.

"I think we're going to need more evidence for this experiment, Dr. D.," she breathed, moving the fingers of one hand into his hair, her nails gently scraping his scalp.

"Shego..." was his disbelieving response. But the uncertainty fled from his eyes to be replaced with the same joy she was feeling and that must have been evident on her face.

"I don't know about you but...I'm tired of sitting around doing nothing," she said, her smile unshakeable. "Think it's time we...started something new."

Drakken's jaw worked for a moment before settling into a smile, the silence uncharacteristic for the mad scientist. Shego blushed suddenly under his intense, adoring stare, but she held his gaze.

"I...think you're right," he finally said.

"I'm always right," she answered, rising on her toes to wrap her arms further around him and bring them even closer.

Drakken suddenly glanced away, his eyes looking past her at the vastness of the sea. Shego's brow rose in question, but in an instant his eyes were back on hers and a calm had settled within them.

"I'm done wasting time. Forget the world."

Shego's smile was so broad it hurt her cheeks, and it continued through the sweet kiss that followed, and every kiss after.

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diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Trapped” Part 5

Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

4 Months Pregnant

“I need customized stickers that say Baby On Board for my purple Lamborghini and the other cars I drive,” The Joker growls at his own idea whilst sharing it with the person fulfilling his wacko trades: Franco Rossi, the leader of best underground supply chain in Gotham.

“When would you like them ready Mister J? After Y/N gives birth?”

“Nope! Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?...” Franco hesitantly inquiries about the sudden emergency since he can’t understand why The King of Gotham demands them so fast.

The Joker hates explaining yet certain people are obtuse thus they necessitate enlightenment.

“Y/N’s pregnant: when she gets in a car, the baby is also. Baby on board! Hello??” the father-to-be loses his temper.

Who can argue with The Joker’s logic? Nobody. It sort of makes sense anyway.

“Of course, Mister J. I’ll have them ready. If you drop by after 6pm, I’ll have your guns ready too.”

“Perfect!” the Joker hangs up among the ruckus coming from the office near the kitchen: sounds of shattered objects and yelling alert Richard aka Panda you’re at it again. He nonchalantly passes by in order to deliver the items to The Clown.

“Your drinks Mister J,” he gives one cup with Starbucks caramel latte to his boss and the other is placed on the table. Why does your boyfriend require 2 identical containers? It won’t take long to solve the mystery.

“Are the lids glued?”

Strange question but there’s a purpose in it.

“Yes sir. How is she doing?”

“She’s hormonal: breaking things makes her feel better which reminds me we have to hoard porcelain objects for her to wreck. NO glass!”

“Sure, I’ll tell the crew,” Richard leaves the kitchen while texting Frost. “Hulk needs more to smash,” he types the code name they gave you in the last weeks although The King knows about it: J’s the one that came up with it.

“Hey Pumpkin,” you are greeted as soon as you pop up from the office. “How’d it go?” he scrolls down on his phone and takes a sip of hot liquid.

“Ugghh!” a frustrated Y/N swings the yellow teddy bear The Joker stole for her on their first date, hitting his hand in the process. The drink flies near the fridge and splatters on the floor with minimal damage: only a tiny puddle instead of a disaster, that’s why the lids are glued.

Safety measure for The Queen’s unpredictability.

J grabs his reserve cup of coffee, paying attention now hence he dodges your renewed attack and keeps his coffee intact.

That’s why his drinks have the lids glued, in case you catch him off guard the second time it will result in negligible destruction.

It happened before.

“I don’t think so Princess,” The Joker strong grip on the container calms you a bit because you won’t be able to win this round. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” you pout and sit in his lap.

“I bet the baby is,” the secret weapon is unleashed: J discovered such a gem by accident and it works like a charm. How can Y/N say “no” if the baby is involved? She can’t.

A plate filled with a bunch of your favorite breakfast food is placed in front of you and strangely enough you’re instantly hungry.

“Extra bacon,” he purrs. “Plus chocolate dip and honey mustard for your pickled cherries. I added peanut butter olives as a bonus.”

In your defense, you’ve been having weird cravings lately.

You place the toy on the chair nearby and start eating, ogling a Joker texting back and forth with his business partners. He chews the morsel you just offered and shivers: waffle dipped in clam juice is disgusting. Maybe he should look at the food you shove in his mouth.

“Gross,” J washes the terrible taste with coffee and gets a kiss for encouragement, yet he’s aware of the connotations. Another kiss confirms it.

Let’s put it this way: besides the hormonal episodes and food demands, The Queen has had a fresh type of craving recently - The Joker kind.

More than usually.

That’s why he has to clear it up.

“I’m flattered for being the center of attention; we gotta keep in mind that contrary to the popular belief, I don’t have unlimited stamina, Pumpkin.”

You nod in agreement and unbutton his pants, then unzip them also.

“Y/N, pay attention!” J insists since you don’t give a damn about his woes. “Think about it as a two way street: The Joker Street and I Want To Break Things Street. Are you with me so far?” he double checks.

Why is he yapping so much??! I guess you should make an effort to comprehend: he’s even doodling patterns on his phone to emphasize the speech.

“When you get hormonal, Princess, let’s try and walk on the I Want To Break Things Street instead of The Joker Street, hm? The Joker Street is sometimes closed for repairs until further announcement.”

OK, OK, this is a lecture. Something about a Joker Street, he seems upset he doesn’t have one…?... Right?...

If you were him, you would be pissed Gotham didn’t name a street in your honor when you’re so important for the town.

Another peck on his neck, then your lips go down his collar bone.

“You’re not paying attention, are you?” J mutters when it’s clear his shirt won’t remain on his body for too long.

“I am,” you defend yourself.

“Oh yeah? What did I say then?”

“Ummm…” you try to piece together words among estrogen taking over. “No Joker Street?...”

“Bingo, that’s it Princess! No Joker Street, correct! Choose the other street, yes?”

This time he kisses you, excited his idea was well received when in fact, both parties are referring to unrelated concepts.

“Wait,” J dodges your touch, “Richard is calling.”

Because he’s on the phone ignoring Y/N, she is ensuring a nice surprise for later; concentrating to the maximum to avoid misspelling, the following message is sent to Franco Rossi from her cell:

“Make a landmark sign that says Joker Street.”

The King’s conversation is prolonged more than anticipated until he discerns you’re not wiggling: you feel asleep, softly snoring on his shoulder and he definitely can’t afford to wake you up.

The doctors said your body is trying to cope with the pregnancy the best way it can: if you doze off at random hours it means you ran out of fuel and you should rest. After cheating death and surviving the accident, the future mother is at high risk of serious complications which is why each day could lead to unforeseen problems.

The Joker rises from the chair holding you in his arms and after a few steps he realizes it’s difficult to walk: thanks to his unbuttoned and unzipped pants, they keep sliding lower and lower. There’s no way he will make it upstairs so maybe the sofa in the living room is the best option. He almost trips thus he begins to drag his feet on the carpet, the pants at knee level now.

“I’m reduced to a piece of meat,” J grumbles, finally making it to the couch and placing Y/N on it so she can have her power nap.

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

6:02pm

You accompanied The King to a meeting with Seraphim, the best hacker/strategist J uses: they’ve been plotting for a while concerning D.A. Kevin Winchester. The politician is becoming a huge pain in the butt for Gotham’s underworld and something must be done; either annihilation or blackmail, it truly doesn’t matter since he’s bad for business. Due to a total lack of interest in the subject, you are exploring the surroundings quite angry The Joker dragged you here.

Luckily there’s stuff to do.

Bam! you punch the fragile glass sculpture and it splinters into a million pieces on the lavish marble floor.

Seraphim jumps at the noise, immediately recognizing his beloved possession:

“That’s…,” he gulps, appalled. “That’s a Vitriol!”

Yup, the one and only Degas Vitriol, the latest sensation taking the art universe by storm.

“She’s hormonal,” J sneers. “She breaks shit!”

“That’s valued at 150,000 dollars!” the hacker breaths in much needed oxygen regarding the atrocity unfolding at his hideout.

“So??!!” your boyfriend sucks on his teeth, irritated. “Serves you right for buying that asshole’s artsy fartsy crap!”

The Joker actually has 4 Vitriol masterpieces at the mansion yet you were strictly forbidden to destroy them, alas he gave you the office for your rampages.

You continue your exploration as they talk about God knows what until you perceive an alarming detail: Seraphim is literally screaming having a gun pointed at J.

You sneak behind him then in a split second you strike the pistol out of his hand and your fist lands on his temple with such brutality it knocks him out unconscious.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N???” The Clown hisses at your erratic behavior.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing??!!!” he repeats, annoyed.

“S-saving you…,” you stutter, confused on why J is mad. “He was yelling and…mmm, had a gun,” you wince in pain because your knuckles hurt from the impact.

“The guy’s half deaf and sometimes he raises his voice without noticing, or did you forget??!! Now I have to wait until he comes to his senses and that’s a waste of my time, Y/N!!! Seraphim wasn’t threatening me, he was showing me his newest collectible!!! I suppose someone with half a brain can’t acknowledge the mess they’ve created!!!”

A lot of accusations thrown your way still… the last sentence brings tears in your eyes.

“I…” you bite your lower lip. “…I don’t have half of brain…”

“Wanna bet??” The Joker bites more instead of leveling with your logic: you though he was in danger and took action. If it was a real emergency, yes, you would have been the hero; it’s not and apparently he can’t appreciate your fast intervention in these circumstances.

“Y-you’re stupid…” you whisper, frustrated. “You don’t understand anything…”

Here it is -- the cataclysmic event of the century: someone called The Joker stupid. He’s beyond outraged with nothing better to utter besides a very childish:

“You’re stupid!”

Y/N turns around and stomps out of the house leaving a trail of destruction outside: she slaps the bottled water out of The Shark’s hand, kicks Panda’s shin and snatches Frost’s donut basically inhaling the sweet treat.

“I want to go h-home!!” you shout and enter the first vehicle you see, slamming the door so hard the window on the passenger side cracks.

“Jesus…” Jonny mumbles and being the sensible man that he is you are offered the whole box of pastries he purchased for his family. He can acquire more, but there’s no way in hell he wants to endure Y/N in the state she’s in.

Gotta keep Hulk calm somehow…

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

3 Hours Afterwards

You sulk when The Joker strolls in the master bathroom frantically searching the cabinets.

“Did you see my shaver?” he asks.

“Hm?”

“Did you see my shaver?”

“I…I wouldn’t know. I only have half a brain,” the surprisingly eloquent phrase queues J his woman is holding a grudge for his earlier statement. Why wouldn’t she? He was a complete jerk.

At least you didn’t catch on to the obvious: The King of Gotham doesn’t own a shaver; hair just grows on his head.

He glimpses at Y/N soaking in the bathtub with a kid’s book in her left hand and the right hand fingers sunk into a bowl filled with ice placed at the edge of the Jacuzzi. The Joker leans over and switches your book since it’s upside down.

You huff at the unwanted help and stare at the pictures expecting he’ll look for his shaver and disappear.

You’re not that fortunate today.

“Imagine my surprise when I drove the main alley and detected a sign that says The Joker Street,” he brings up the topic.

Franco Rossi was super-efficient …sadly you ordered the item before J ran his mouth at the hacker’s place, otherwise you wouldn’t care he wants a street with his name.

“You said no… no Joker Street,” you stammer. “Now you have one,” the bitter tone makes him roll his eyes: Y/N’s brain got what it could from his monologue, he should have known better than to make it complicated.

“Excellent…” The King starts rubbing your tummy, “… precisely what I was aiming for. I’m washing the baby, not you!” he underlines when you move farther from him.

You scrunch your face displeased but let him do it because it’s for the baby.

“I know what you’re doing,” Y/N gives him a cold gaze. “U-using the baby… I’m not stupid!”

Busted, The Joker thinks. The schemer in him won’t accept defeat though.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Yes you did!”

“You said it first!!!” he reckons, antagonized. “Therefore two stupid people put together gotta make up for a smart one!!’

“I… I don’t wanna make out…” you frown at his suggestion.

The Joker sighs, deciding not to correct the trajectory of your judgement; it sure sounds like an opportunity.

“Why not?”

“I’m tired and…and I h-hate you,” your heavy eyelids close.

“Both viable reasons, even if I have to admit you striking Seraphim like that got me quite worked up. He’s no small fry! I had to wait for one hour for him to recover; you got a mean punch, woman! The more I reflect on it, the hornier I get. Which reminds me, Pumpkin: guess what?... … … I’m hormonal too.”

No answer, Pumpkin’s out.

“Of course nobody gives a damn if I’m hormonal!” he complaints while grabbing you from the bathtub. You cling to him for a few moments prior to drifting back into your dreams.

“Thanks for getting me all wet,” J snarls at the cruel reality of having his favorite Prada suit ruined.

“You…you’re welcome…” his Queen replies in her sleep, somehow her mind clutching to reality amidst pure relaxation.

This is what two hormonal individuals are reduced to: one’s dozing off, the other is suffering in silence, although being the proud owner of the tiniest road in Gotham compensates for the mishap.

It’s a two way street.