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#yes i spent longer than i should have picking these
hannieehaee · 10 days
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18+ / mdi
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content: bff'sbrother!jungkook, softdom!jungkook, enemies2lovers-ish, he's a lil annoying in this, angst, mentions of rejection, one-sided crush, afab reader, smut, fingering, dry humping, penetrative sex, overstimulation (kinda), etc.
wc: 4076
a/n: another jk fic bc im taking time off work and have nothing to do</3 this went longer than anticipated lol sorry
masterlist
"what are you doing here?", grumbled the man as soon as he opened the door and spotted you on the other side of it.
"can you get out of the way? i'm obviously here for minji."
"she doesn't get here til tomorrow," he responded, though still moving out of the way to let you in.
you were about to snark at him again when he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening when they made contact with the suitcases you were struggling to drag behind you, "why are you carrying suitcases? fuck, don't tell me you're staying here," he grabbed onto one, stopping your movements.
"yes, jungkook. minji told me i could crash here for spring break. what's it to you? your house is big enough. just ignore my presence," you attempted to move your suitcases again, knowing you'd receive no help from the boy even if you asked.
"so you're here to ruin my break?" the complaints were never ending despite having entered the home only mere moments ago.
"stop being a child and get out of my way," you grumbled when the idiot refused to remove his hand from the handle of your suitcase.
he let out a heavy sigh, scrunching his eyes closed in annoyance before speaking again, "okay, move. i'll bring your shit upstairs."
"no, i can-"
"you can't carry all this upstairs. my mom's gonna be mad if i don't offer to help you. just let go," he muttered, pushing your hands away and somehow lifting both suitcases at once as he walked towards the stairs.
without any energy to argue with him, you just followed him upstairs, annoyed he insisted to pretend to do you a favor.
"are your parents home?", you asked, confused as to why he had been the one to open the door.
"no, they went out of town this weekend. they should be here tonight."
"why are you here?"
you knew this was his home, but it was a valid question. this had been the third time you'd spent some sort of school break at minji's house, yet jungkook had never been there during the duration of it, usually only popping up for a day or two by the end of each break.
"you mean in my house?", he chuckled sarcastically.
"you're never here- you know what i meant."
"didn't have any plans this time. why? am i ruining your break?"
the two of you finally made it to the extra guest room in minji's house, with jungkook settling your stuff on the bed and uncharacteristically taking a seat on it, as if planning to hang around. you ignored the thought and went to open your suitcase, planning to unpack a few of the things since you'd be staying for over a week.
"yeah," you deadpanned.
he scoffed, "not like i wanna spend my break with you either, princess."
groaning, you threw a folded shirt at him, "ew, i told you not to call me that."
seemingly pleased at having annoyed you, he chuckled and picked up the shirt you threw, folding it and placing it on the bed. he continued to occasionally grab one thing or another as you unpacked. you always knew jungkook to be quite fidgety, so you didn't question him grabbing your stuff to entertain himself as you unpacked.
jungkook wordlessly stayed on your bed as you went around the room organizing your stuff, attempting to ignore his presence but not entirely able to. you were willing to retain peace without complaining, but then he started making noise.
you usually didn't care for his presence too much, even as badly as the two of you got along, but the constant humming quickly got on your nerves. he hummed and hummed and did not stop even as ten minutes passed by, still taking stuff from your suitcase to fidget with. currently he was entertaining himself with a random shoe.
"jungkook! why are you still here?", you suddenly snapped, confused as to why he'd been sitting on your bed with a blank look on his face despite usually being liberal in expressing his dislike for you.
he looked at you for a few moments, no emotion on his face before speaking up.
"why don't we get along?"
"what?"
"you heard me. why don't we get along? you've been friends with my sister since childhood, but you've always hated me. why?"
"you started it," you murmured, taking the shoe he currently had in his hold and turning around to place it somewhere else.
he got up, walking over to you and turning you around by your shoulders and taking the shoe from you again, "i started it? what are you talking about? you've been rude to me since the seventh grade. i've just been returning the favor."
sighing in frustration, you grabbed shook his hands off your shoulders and stubbornly grabbed the shoe again, "why do you think that is, jungkook?"
a confused look overtook his face at your insinuation of your relationship being his fault, clearly not remembering what you were referring to.
"wha-what are you talking about?"
"god, you're such a dumbass sometimes. i mean, i assumed you didn't remember, but to have confirmation of it just kinda sucks," you chuckled bitterly.
he grabbed onto your shoulders again when you tried to walk past him, "tell me what you're talking about," he insisted.
for the most part, you didn't want to. you still felt embarrassed thinking about it, even if it had been over a decade since it had happened. to know he really didn't remember the source of your dislike for him also didn't really help matters. it just frustrated you at his presence even more.
through the years you had learned not to take the mutual banter too seriously. it was mostly lighthearted, to be honest. but any time you thought back to how it had started, you became beyond angry at the boy who was seemingly nice too all those he knew but you. sure, you had technically been the one to source this animosity, but he bad been the instigator of it after all.
you had been nine years old at the time, having recently moved into town and befriended minji. she had been your salvation, becoming instantly interested in being your friend despite you being brand new. you became quick friends, hanging out inside and outside school almost every day.
minji had the good fortune of being extremely close to her family, which allowed you to bond with them quite a lot. that was when you met her older brother, one of her favorite people in the world.
jungkook had been pure perfection in your young eyes, seeing him as unattainable at the young age of nine. he was two years your senior, which made you come to the quick realization that your crush would remain one-sided forever. except this didn't stop your naive heart to read into his nice demeanor and wishfully believe that maybe he'd like you back.
you crushed on him silently for three years, even coming to befriend him in the process. you wouldn't see him too often, but it was always nice when you did, always getting along quite well. this continued up until you hit twelve years of age, your tweenhood years. unfortunately, jungkook was now into his teens, meaning that he followed the footprints of every other man and had a short-lived phase where he was a bit insensitive to girls his age.
being completely delusional and being on your way to graduate middle school, you took a leap, deciding to invite jungkook as your date to your middle school prom. you had thought you read all the signs right, thinking that even if he rejected you, he'd still be nice enough to go with you as a friend. your hopes were completely crushed when he turned you down with zero hesitance, even patronizing you in the process.
the worst part of it all came later, when you were first entering high school. somehow a few of his friends had gotten word of the situation, dubbing you as desperate and obsessed with him. although the rumors died pretty quickly, and you were able to feign indifference to jungkook and everyone else, the seed of hate began to grow in you. little by little, you stopped speaking to jungkook altogether, eventually coming to proudly dislike him. despite minji's constant questioning about your change in demeanor towards her brother, you never told, not wanting any drift to be caused between you and minji, nor her and her brother.
the gradual change in your feelings for jungkook had been so natural that it made sense for him to not remember the source of the current state of your relationship. he had caught on naturally, simply bantering back with you whenever you gave him attitude. it was likely that he believed it all to be lighthearted at first, eventually becoming accustomed enough to it to not question it.
and now you were here, having to explain a stupid childhood heartbreak to the perpetrator of it all as he stared down at you in absolute wonder.
"eighth grade, jungkook. remember?"
he shook his head in confusion, his eyes still wide as his brain wracked itself to remember.
"the dance?"
"the dance? what dan- oh! the- the dance? that's it?"
'that's it'?
he mustve caught the look of annoyance in your face, as he quickly went to retract himself.
"fuck, wait. i didn't mean it like that, just- is that why you hate me? because i said no to you?"
you took a step away from him again, still frustrated, but his arms remained on your shoulders so you would keep looking right at him. it was awkward and extremely uncomfortable considering the context, but you didn't move away.
"it wasn't just that, jungkook," you started, "was it that horrible of a thought to go to the dance with me? i was twelve, you couldve been nicer about it. and to tell your friends about it? i was mocked for weeks after that. and now you wanna act like this is my fault? like ive just been mean to you for no reason?", you scoffed, looking at your feet in favor of not having to look at him.
"wait, who ... who made fun of you? i- i never told anyone what happened. why would i do that?"
"jungkook, stop. taehyung? jimin? they wouldn't stop bringing it up for weeks. it died down after a while, but i was already humiliated."
he shook his head and denial, seemingly at himself. finally letting go of you, he sat back on the bed, look of confusion still on his face before a lightbulb metaphorically manifested itself above his head.
"oh fuck," he muttered, "i- i remember now, but it didn't go down the way you think, okay? let me explain."
you crossed your arms and nodded, signaling for him to continue.
he uncrossed his arms, running them through his hair in a frustrated fashion before he began to explain, oddly passionate as he did so, "i told them right after it happened. i felt so bad for saying no to you, they noticed how down i was about it and asked. i swear i didnt say anything bad. fuck, i never knew they teased you about it, im so sorry," he rambled, "and i didnt- i didnt mean to make you feel bad when i said no. you're my sister's best friend and- and you were so young. i know it doesnt matter anymore, but saying yes felt wrong. it felt like id be taking advantage of you somehow."
"jungkook-"
"if it makes you feel better," he hesitated before continuing, "i, uh, i kinda had a crush on you when we were 17. i- i was going to ask you to my prom, but you picked a fight with me that day and told me to get the fuck out. thats, that's kinda when i started to hate you back," he smiled awkwardly towards the end.
that took you for a bit of a loop. you weren't a heartless asshole. it wasnt like you meant to hurt him through your dislike of him, but rather protect yourself from further rejection. it made you feel bad to know that you'd somewhat done a similar thing to him at some point, even verbally berating him time after time when his intentions hadn't been malicious.
"are you serious?"
"do you really hate me? for what i did, i mean," he interrupted.
did you? for the most part, you had just grown far too used to your animosity with jungkook. due to your own mean behavior towards him, he became equally as rude, creating a vicious cycle of disrespect between the two of you. but did you hate him?
the answer was probably not.
if you did, your heart wouldn't have jumped at the mention of him having had a crush on you back when you were seventeen.
"no, i don't hate you. do you?"
he turned to you, shaking his head, "of course not," he confirmed, "do you wanna start over?", he asked, getting up from the bed and walking over to you.
you couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden proposal. you also couldnt help in nodding in agreement, confirming that yes, you'd be willing to put aside a petty middle school misunderstanding in favor of starting over.
then he opened his arms, gesturing for a hug before asking for permission for one, "hug?"
wordlessly, you accepted the offer of a friendly hug, reasoning that it was only natural considering how touchy he was with everyone other than yourself.
when you went to pull away, his arms tightened around you, head burying itself further into your hair, "just a little longer," he murmured.
with no reason to deny him, you wrapped your arms around him once more, only letting go when he started to slowly pull away.
that's when you made the mistake of looking up at him as he attempted to make himself let go of you.
seemingly, he had made the same mistake, now locking eyes with you at a proximity far too close for two people who hated each other just mere minutes ago. stupidly enough, your eyes predictably went down to his lips, not realizing his own had done the same. the only difference was that he was far more daring than you, allowing his lips to lower down onto yours and envelop them in a soft kiss.
greedy hands dug into your hips before making their way to your waist, holding you as close to him as he could. your own hands wrapped around his shoulders, moving to play with his hair as soon as the kiss turned more heated.
moaning against him, he pulled away for a second, still keeping his lips entirely too close to your own as he breathed through his nose to calm himself down. the following kiss was even more harrowing, causing you to take a step back due to the sheer force of it. he walked you back, pressing you up against the nearest wall as he took advantage of being able to crowd you, allowing his hands to get a feel of your body as you kissed.
despite how pathetically you followed his lips, he still pulled away, throwing his shirt off before going back to kissing you, letting his hands wander underneath your own shirt as he did so. his hands dug deep under your shirt, feeling up your bare breasts and groaning at the lack of bra.
gradually, his lips made their way to your ear and then down your neck, murmuring against your skin.
"fuck, so fucking pretty ... and so needy for me, huh? sound so good moaning for me like that," he breathed against you.
you burned up, embarrassed by how easily he had an effect on you, but you still let him do whatever he wanted, knowing that nothing you did would prevent your body from wanting his touch.
throwing off your shirt, his lips trailed down even further south, latching onto your nipples and groaning into your skin at the way you arched your body, pressing up even closer to him.
but suddenly there was a shift.
jungkook halted his movements, making his way back up to your lips and locking them with his own in a heavy and greedy kiss, resulting in a lack of breath from both of you. against your lips, he whispered something that made your knees buckle.
"i'm gonna pay you back for all those times you were mean to me, baby," his lips moved to your ear, chuckling at your anticipatory shudder, "gonna do whatever i want with this pretty body, yeah?"
nodding pathetically, you gave way for him to do anything he wanted. already drenched, there was no way you could possibly formulate any words that didn't come out as an embarrassing whine. he seemed to enjoy this too, holding a pleased smirk in his face as he easily dragged you over to the bed, pushing off your suitcase and dropping you on it with a bounce.
before you could even think, jungkook had already thrown off his shoes and undone his pants, his hands coming to do the same to you. your shaky hands attempted to help him, but he simply tsk'd at you, letting you know that he'd take care of everything tonight. everything, he emphasized.
"oh, fuck," he groaned once you were fully nude, "this is all mine now, yeah? fuck, been waiting for years for you to stop being a brat and let me have this pretty body all to myself," he kissed your lips between each sentence, "might lose control at how gorgeous and mine it is ..." he murmured as his hands took their rightful place exploring your body.
"kook-" you whined, already wanting him to do something – anything.
"shh, baby," he coo'd, "i'm gonna do whatever i want. and you're gonna take it like a good girl, okay? gonna behave for me for once."
fully crawling on top of you, jungkook went back to making out with you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he began humping against your already soaked cunt.
groaning, he pulled away for a second in favor of nibbling softly at your lip, "oh, this pretty pussy's so fucking soaked already ... thought you hated me, baby, what happened?" he chuckled darkly, giving you no room to answer before shoving his tongue in your mouth.
just as his tongue attempted to suck all air out of you, his hand suddenly snuck between your bodies, finding your cunt with ease and beginning to drag his fingers up and down your folds, not giving you want you needed.
"pretty fucking pussy," he murmured, "gonna play with your clit now, baby. it's gonna cry for me by the time im done."
his fingers found your clit almost immediately, taking turns in rubbing teasing circles over it and hammering in and out of your cunt. he swallowed every single moan, groaning against your lips any time your cries went so high they went straight to his cock.
"that good, pretty? so good that you have to cry for more? oh, baby. you're so lucky this pussy's so fucking cute. lucky i cant control myself around you ..."
"f-faster, please ..."
"faster? oh, like this?", his fingers slowed down drastically, barely stimulating you at all as you cried and clawed at his back, whining for more than he seemed willing to give you.
"n-no! please, just- just wanna cum, kookie. please?"
his fingers curled entirely too well at your cry of his nickname, even making him groan when he felt your own reaction to his fingers. it was clear he liked you crying out for him, so the more you did it, the more of his fingers he gave you, leading you to the verge of an orgasm.
afraid he'd try and deny you just for sadistic means, you cried for him prematurely, begging him to let you cum.
"kookie, p-please, please let me cum, i-i'll do anything. i'll give you anything, just, fuck, please!"
there was not a single care in you about how pathetic and out of character you sounded, not when jungkook's wasnt faring any better at the effect your desperation had on him.
"cum. cum for me, baby. wanna feel that cunt cream around my fingers so i can fill it back up with my own, okay? be good for me and- fuck, and cum ..." as much as he wanted to be in charge and show a dominant side to him, your cunt just kept dragging his fingers back in, making him feel a carnal need to steal your orgasm all for himself and many others after this one.
your hand wrapped around his free wrist, needing it as support as an otherworldly orgasm took over you. back arching and eyes rolling back, you became a sight that jungkook had only ever seen in his most depraved of dreams about you. he was surprised at his cock not bursting upon such an arousing view, making him realize that he needed to fuck you as soon as posible before losing his mind.
despite talking you through your orgasm, jungkook still gave you no time to recover before shoving his tongue in your mouth and grabbing his dick to drag up and down your sensitive folds.
crying against him, you attempted to push him away at first, feeling too sensitive for immediate stimulation, but your body gave up quickly after, melting into the overload of pleasure. tears crowded in your eyes, but your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, needing more of that pressure against your cunt.
taking the hint and far too horny to drag this out any longer, he pushed inside you, groaning against you at the feeling of finally being wrapped around your warmth.
"it's so fucking wet ... oh, fuck. you wanted this so bad, didnt you, baby? fucking soaked and just pulling me in ... it's so- so tight n warm n perfect for me," he babbled, lost in pleasure.
jungkook's hips were restless against yours, an insatiable desire to chase for his pleasure taking over him as the sound of skin slapping made him dizzy. the occasional babble accompanied by a pitiful hiccup that came out of you did not help his situation, making him fear that he might cum before you.
"let- let me just get my finger there- yeah, fuck. just gonna rub that tiny little clit, okay? shit, you just tightened around my cock so fucking good ..." he groaned, thumb circling your clit to accelerate your orgasm.
"g-gonna, fuck, gonna cum ... p-please ... with me? cum with me?" you begged, barely able to get a single coherent word out while jungkook showed no mercy against you.
nodding, he kissed you, promising he'd cum – begging you to cum. counting you down, he whispered against your ear while his hips stuttered messily against your own, now completely overtaken by both yours and his orgasm.
the sounds shared between the two of you were nothing short of shameful, consisting of whines and cries filled with desperation. it was a depraved scene only meant for the two of you to enjoy.
pulling out of you proved to be a challenge, as jungkook would happily remained inside you until his last breath, but the thought of holding you innocently in his arms as you caught your breath was something he did not want to miss out on.
and so he held you against him, crowding your face against his chest so you could lay your head right by his heart.
"that was-"
"yeah," he breathed with a chuckle before turning to you with a boyish smile on his face, "i have a confession to make."
you turned around too, unable to not match his smile, "what is it?"
"i lied earlier. i, uh, i did like you when you were seventeen, but ... i kinda still like you."
it was impossible not to feel your face warm up at this, scrunching up your nose at how cutely he had confessed, "what if i said it was mutual?"
his smile somehow got bigger at that, "then i'd say i'm gonna have to steal you away from my sister," he pulled you into his chest again, enjoying the vibrations of your laugh.
a/n: this was rushed and not proofread sorry</3
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clockwayswrites · 1 month
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City Pigeons Part 12 CW: blood, past trauma and experimentation
Jason could almost go to sleep. He wouldn’t, not when he was the only Bat in the apartment, but it would be so easy to. Danny made a really good weighted blanket.
It seemed once the kid got over touching someone, he basically became a koala. Cass and Danny had spent the morning wrapped around each other on the couch. Cass was playing one of her weird clicking games and Danny, blue bear in his lap, was scrolling through articles on the tablet that Tim had brought him the other day.
Now, though, Cass was out on a snack run and Danny had slowly slumped over until he was laying across Jason. It wasn’t minded. Jason could admit he still had some trouble with touch himself, but it was easy to be there for Danny like this.
The problem was, Jason needed to get back to Crime Alley for at least a few nights. He was already past when Red Hood should have made an appearance. It he didn’t go back soon, rumors were going to start that he was dead. Again.
Jason waited for Danny to start searching for a new article to read to ask, “Are you alright with meeting someone soon?”
He didn’t expect Danny to tense like he did.
“Robin?”
“No, Dandelion,” Jason said, stroking Danny’s white hair. “N talked with Robin and he knows not to stop by like that without warning. We’ll have him over when you’re comfortable but not before.”
“Okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to…”
“None of that. He freaked you out,” Jason said. “I know he didn’t mean to, and from our guess it’s not his fault how he feels like to you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It’s okay to set boundaries.”
“He… doesn’t feel weird to you?”
Jason sighed. “No. I guess I don’t sense it. I didn’t know you had died until you told me.”
“Oh.” Danny’s voice was small and quiet.
“But I knew that I had died— the others know it’s too,” Jason was quick to add. “It’s alright that you died. No one will think differently of you.”
“They might. It’s… you’re different than me, I guess.”
“I don’t know, because I don’t know what happened to you, but I actually hope so. The way I came back wasn’t pleasant.” Jason had to take a breath before he continued. “I was murdered by a rogue in town called the Joker. I woke up… we’re still not sure when exactly, but somewhere about half a year later. I didn’t have any of my memories, but I still had most of my injuries.
“I was picked up by some people you might hear us refer to— the League of Assassins. They put me back together about a year after my death by tossing me in something called the Lazarus Pits. Those things come with a price though, one that I’m still paying. Coming back was… hard, in a lot of ways.”
“Oh,” Danny said. He clung a little to Jason’s shirt, like he wanted to make sure Jason was still there. It was a feeling Jason understood all too well. “I, um, don’t think I’ve ever stayed really dead for more than a minute or two. At least not like… not like you were.”
Jason rested his hand on Danny’s back, feeling him breath. Feeling him… feeling him not breathe.
“…Danny?”
Danny clung tighter to Jason’s shirt. “Go ahead, ask.”
“Are you… somewhat dead right now?”
“Yes.”
Just one word. A simple answer.
“Okay. That’s— okay. I’m glad there’s a reason that you’re not breathing,” Jason said and pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head as he tried to calm his own pounding heart.
“I think B.B. knows. I usually… it’s habit to breath but sometimes I forget and—”
“She’s good at noticing things.” Jason would have to talk with her. “But that goes to what I said, right? None of the others will thinking of you differently.”
“Even if…”
“Even if anything.”
Danny sat up and Jason resisted the urge to reach for him. It took him a moment longer to release Jason’s shirt. Jason sat up slowly and waited for Danny to get the words out he was obviously working on.
“Can I show you?”
“Course.” Jason braced himself for anything.
“It might be bright, close your eyes.”
The flash still shown through Jason’s eyelids.
“Oh.” Danny’s voice wavered horribly. “I didn’t think of that.”
“Danny?” Jason was reaching forward even as he opened his eyes.
It was good he did.
He had to catch Danny as he wavered dangerously. Danny’s who hair was black. Who’s eyes were blue. Who looked all the more like Bruce’s son. Who was bleeding red.
-
“Jesus and Mother Mary,” Dick cursed, resting his forehead against his wrist’s.
Cass came over and peeled the bloody gloves off for him. “Breathe.”
“I am breathing,” Dick wheezed.
“Badly.”
Jason barked out a laugh at that. It was unstable in a way that reminded the room of worse days.
The door banged open and they all jolted, everyone but Cass, who was better than that, and Danny who was still out cold.
“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Tim rambled. “Is he stable?”
“Yes,” Cass answered. Her voice was calm, but but Duke could see the way that she fidgeted. For anyone else it wouldn’t be called fidgeting, but the way that she untied and retied and untied the trash bag in his visions told Dick otherwise.
Cass was as worried as the rest of them.
“Signal?” Tim asked. He came into the room, tablet already pulled up to record everything.
“Hard for me to say,” Duke said with a little shrug. He wished he could say, but he was still trying to understand what he was seeing. “The guy is… he’s like no one I’ve ever seen before. But I think he’s getting stronger.”
“That’s— holy fuck.” Tim paused as he finally got a look at Danny.
“Really looks like the old man like this, doesn’t he?” Jason asked. He was trying to hide how his hands were trembling by keeping his arms crossed. Everyone in the room let him pretend.
Duke sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the one Danny collapsed on like that. It was bad enough being the third one there as he swung over from his patrol. The cuts had still been appearing on Danny’s skin, ripping him apart like he was nothing.
He didn’t look much better all bandaged up.
“I think the cuts were ones he must have sustained before changing forms before he even met us,” Duke reasoned. “They… felt old.”
Dick rubbed at his face. “So the whole time they were there just waiting to bleed?”
Jason laughed again. “Waiting for him to be alive again.”
Slowly, Dick dropped his hands and looked up at Jason. “Jay?”
Okay, so they were at the point of forgetting cape-names now. That was a great sign.
Confusingly, Jason looked to Cass, who actually fidgeted.
“He doesn’t breathe. He does, not always. His heart beats, not always. It is like he…,” she twisted her hand as if trying to grab onto the right word. “Like he relaxes and forgets.”
Well that was weird. Dick nodded to the monitor that he had helped hook up. “He’s breathing right now and the monitor says his heartbeat is hella slow, but steady.”
“This is his alive form, I think. More alive form,” Jason said with a shrug. “His other form is his more dead form. He said he’s never stayed ‘really dead’ like I was. I think ‘really’ was the important word in that. He stressed it like it was… a technically or some shit.”
“Or a loophole,” Tim said. He was watching Danny with his head tilted just slightly to the right.
It was a pose that had Duke straightening up in attention. “What do you see that I can’t?”
Tim glanced at him and then back down at Danny. “The scars don’t match.”
“Ti—Red, please just say it,” Dick pleaded, exhaustion hanging on his words.
“Sorry, I was. I mean, the scars he has now don’t exactly match the scars he had in his— what are we calling it? Dead form?”
Jason flinched.
Dick’s eyes flicked from Jason to Tim. “Let’s go with… ghost. Undead, you know?”
Tim continued on valiantly. “His scars don’t match with what he had in his ghost form. There are a few like around his neck that I think are one-to-one and a lot of them are in the same place from what I can see and might be the same? I’d have to take photos and compare. But… he has more in this living form, I’m sure of it.”
“Okay, right, so that’s a thing,” Jason said. He slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was squatting. He hung his head between his knee and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck.
Duke could see Jason passing out with enough probability that he slipped out of the room to grab some sour candy for Jason and an icepack for the back of his neck. Being honest with himself, Duke could use the moment out of the room. It was a lot to deal with.
Man, someone would have to do something about the bloody couch too… Dick sighed and took the time to send a message to Babs about it as well as an update. Knowing her she had a list of all the furniture in all the safe houses and could get a slipcover ordered on same day delivery. At least he hoped so. Everyone was taking this pretty hard and they didn’t need the reminder.
Duke figured the bad reaction was pretty fair though, they had thought that Danny was getting better and now his healing was going to be set back. Dick would be guilty because he hadn’t been here, Jason going through his issues about kids and violence and death, and Cass already counted Danny as family. She was never good when family was hurt. It was even worse that Danny should have been safe, he was under their watch.
Duke set the pack of candy and ice pack down next to Jason’s foot, close enough that he should be able to feel the cold, and backed up to his corner. It was best not to touch right then. He wasn’t afraid of Jason ever hurting him purposefully, but he was also very aware for Jason it might not always be purposeful.
Cass joined him, leaning against his side, and Duke wrapped an arm around her. Tim was tapping away on his tablet, mostly muttering to himself, but Dick had gotten up to peer over his shoulder.
Jason tore open the packet of candies and popped one in his mouth.
They’d be okay.
It would take work, but they were Bats. They were stubborn.
Dukes wrist buzzed. The tracking number for slipcover flashed across his hud. It would be there by 9 pm.
They’d be okay.
-
Everything hurt. Everything ached all the way down through his skin and muscled and bones. His breath caught in his chest, ragged and frayed like his lungs were full of shattered glass.
He tried not to make a noise.
He tried to stay quiet.
They would notice him if he made a noise. He couldn’t take any more attention. He didn’t think he’d survive more attention. God, that thought was almost enough to kill him. Once he would have done anything for his parents attention and now—
There was a hand in his hair. It was gentle.
Oh, he was crying.
“…going to be okay. We have you, Dandelion, and we’re not letting them touch you ever again. The two Reds will make sure it can never happen again. Once you’re better they’ll take a little road trip.”
That was… that wasn’t… a sob broke through Danny’s lips and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try.
He wasn’t there.
He could make noises.
He was safe.
“Danny? Hey, are you awake.”
Danny nodded as much as he could manage.
“Hey there,” Nightwing said, voice so kind that it just made Danny cry harder. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
Danny shook his head.
“Okay, that’s okay, thank you for answering me Danny. How’s the pain? Um, squeeze my hand once if it’s okay, twice if it’s really bad.”
Danny squeezed it three times.
“Really, really bad, huh? Okay. Okay… we can give you some pain meds through your IV. We have you on a saline drip because you looked really bad. We didn’t want to give you any meds without your consent though. Are you alright with some pain medication? Once for yes, twice for no.”
One squeeze.
“Okay, let me go—”
Danny clung to Nightwing’s hand a tightly at he could. His breath stuttered around the glass.
“Not leaving, Dandelion. I’m going to text Red Robin, okay? He’s in the living room. Hood and B.B are out… running an errand. They’ll be back soon. I’ll text Red and he’ll bring the pain meds.”
Danny nodded. Nightwing shifted around, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. The breathing calmed, got easier. Danny let out a slow breath.
“Hey Danny,” a new voice said. “The medication will make you feel fuzzy and maybe disoriented. You’ll probably sleep a lot. We don’t want you to wake up panicked. Is there anything we can do to help you know you’re here with us and safe?”
“Bear,” Danny croaked. He wet his lips and tried to continue. “Smells that aren’t… Touch. Warmth.”
“Red will get your teddy bear as soon as the meds are hooked up and we’ll work on the other things. One of us will always be here with you,” Nightwing said.
Danny squeezed his hand again.
“Okay. We won’t leave you alone, Danny, we’ll keep you safe. You’ll be okay.”
Danny trusted that.
It was surprising.
He didn’t think he could trust anymore, but Danny trusted that, trusted them.
The warmth of that thought followed him back into the black.
---
AN: This all Danny's fault, not mine! He decided to reveal his form early and then... welp.....
...Stay delightful, darlings?
699 notes · View notes
ellecdc · 3 months
Text
Come Back, Be Here (part 2)
pt1 // pt2 // pt3 // pt4 // pt5 // pt6 // pt7 // pt8
Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 6k words
CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N
Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. How will Sirius react when he finally gets his love back, but you don't seem to recognize any of them? (concept inspired by Recognition by aeaean__bliss on ao3)
Sirius entered the Potter’s cottage in Godric’s Hollow the next morning with (far too many, in Lily’s opinion) bags of your things.
My girl is not going without, Red. He’d simply said. Who was she to argue?
After a restless sleep, most of Sirius’ night was spent doggedly watching your sleeping form. He couldn’t complain; he’d certainly had worst nights and he’d happily spend the rest of his nights this way if that meant keeping you around. Once Harry was up for the day according to his parents, Sirius decided to leave you in Lily’s capable hands while he retrieved some things from his flat, and picked up some personals for you from Tesco. He had left a glass of water, more pain potion and your wand which had been in the cloak you were found in on the bedside table with a note saying he'd be back soon.
He brought the bags into your bedroom – or, the spare room, he supposed – and tried to suppress the panic he felt when you weren’t in the bed where he’d last seen you this morning.
He failed though, and he did indeed panic. Apparently, the trauma of unexpectedly losing a loved one (and then getting them back much the same way) takes longer to shake than 18 hours.
Sirius noticed a shuffling sound in the bathroom, and his rational mind told him that you were simply using the washroom and he should just wait outside, or, hell, knock like a gentleman.
The other half of his brain – the one currently driving his central nervous system - was telling him to break doors down.
He decided to choose a happy medium and pulled his wand, leaning to listen against the door. When he failed to hear any more movement, he opened it slowly. He held his breath and begged his heart to stop hammering in his chest as he surveyed the room. He moved into the seemingly empty bathroom, until he turned back towards the door and saw you hiding between the open door and the wall.
“Whoa there love, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spook ya.” Sirius chuckled under his breath, holding his hands up in surrender. He tried to smile while his heart broke at the sight of the cowering girl before him.
Your hand trembled as you lowered your own wand and let out a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered.
“No, I’m sorry, gorgeous. I should have knocked.” He countered. “You got my note?”
You seemed to shake yourself and square your shoulders.
“Yes, you had errands?” You queried as you both exited the bathroom.
“That I did!” He answered jovially. “I took care of some business and sent a note to my supervisor saying I’d be taking a leave of absence for the next while. I also went shopping.”
Sirius pulled out the bags he had set behind the couch with a flourish.
“We’ve got you lots of your own clothes now, so you won’t need to borrow from our dear Lily flower.” He said, motioning towards the tracksuit spilling over your body.
You peered into the bags, and Sirius watched excitedly as you pulled the bag he had brought from his and Remus’ flat to your lap. Please remember he begged you silently.
You gently pulled out a zippered knit jumper. Your zippered knit jumper. “This is mine.”
Sirius failed to suppress a smirk. “It’s all yours, love.”
“No.” You argued. “This is mine, it was mine. Before.” You stated clearly, holding it up in front of you. Your brows were furrowed, and Sirius tried to ignore how cute you looked.
“Ah, so it is.” He offered noncommittally
Your eyes flit between him and the sweater for a few moments, and Sirius let you ponder. Please remember.
“I loved this sweater. It was my favourite.”
Sirius hummed as if in thought. “Do you remember where you got it?”
Your left eye twitched as you scrutinized the article of clothing.
“I think,” you started, grunting as if it was hard to get out. “I think it was a gift.”
Yes, Sirius thought, you can do it baby.
“Who gave it to you?”
You actually whimpered as you dropped the jumper into your lap and clenched your forehead.
“I can’t...” You started. “It’s like I know that I know the answer, but I just can’t get it.” You muttered miserably.
“Hey, hey. That’s alright.” Sirius said, removing the sweater from your lap and replacing it with his hands. He drew circles on the backs of your hands and willed you to look at him.
He continued talking when you finally met his eyes. “You don’t have to remember right now. You’re alright.”
Your eyes jumped from each of Sirius’ grey ones as if searching for the answers you were missing. He’d gladly give you all of them if he could.
Slowly, so, so slowly, you lowered your forehead to his.
This is how Lily found you both; Sirius on his knees in front of you with your hands intertwined in your lap and your foreheads pressed together. She hated to interrupt.
“Knock, knock.” She called to the room quietly. The two of you whipped your heads to face her, both blushing as if you had been caught doing something naughty.
“Hate to interrupt Pads, but I was wondering if you could help me with something for a sec?”
Sirius turned back to you and offered you a soft smile before joining Lily in the hallway.
“Well, that looked cozy.” She teased gently which was met with a very dramatic eyeroll.
“Yeah, yeah, Red. What is it you needed.”
“I spoke with Dumbledore. I haven’t told him why yet, but I asked for a Healer – one specialized in neuropsychological practice.” She trailed off as Sirius’ eyes widened in horror.
“There’s a healer coming here. To your safe house.” He managed, feeling like he might faint.
“Well, no,” Lily muttered, “you’d have to go meet her at St. Mungo’s and then apparate her here.”
Sirius stared at what he officially considered to be his dumbest friend.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He whispered as he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the kitchen. “What point of in hiding or safe house don’t you understand?”
Lily ripped her arm from his grip. “Listen, Dumbledore trusts the healer, they won’t be given the address, you’ll just be escorting them. And, I want to be here for her.”
Sirius had begun tallying up counter points but deflated at the end of her sentence. Lily didn’t miss it.
“I want to be here for her.” She repeated.
Sirius sucked in a breath between his teeth and looked to the heavens for answers. The heavens had never answered him before so he wasn’t sure why he felt disappointed when they left him on his own again.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, Red.”
They were joined in the kitchen by James and a miniature version of James who appeared to have just woken up as he rubbed his eyes with two pudgy hands from his father’s hip.
“There’s the prongslet!” Sirius beamed at his godson.
“Pa-foo!” The child squealed and held his arms out for him, tiredness completely forgotten.
Sirius happily took the almost-toddler and sat him on his lap.
“Alright Pads?” James queried.
“Not bad Prongs, yourself?” He responded coolly.
James grimaced at his friend’s displeasure with him but carried on making small talk while preparing breakfast for the infant.
The awkwardness was interrupted by a light knock, but it wasn’t from the front door. Lily and Sirius exchanged a look while James took Harry from Sirius’ lap.
“Y/N?” Lily called tentatively, which was answered by the bedroom door slowly opening and exposing you.
You had changed out of Lily’s tracksuit and were wearing the zippered knit jumper and a pair of green corduroy trousers that Sirius knew he bought a size or two too large but figured they could spell them smaller, and it’d be easier to let them out as you regained some weight. It appeared you had already spelled them in, and Sirius tried really hard not to stare at how good it made your arse look.
“Awe! I remember that sweater! That’s the one you bought her for her birthday; isn’t it Pads?” Lily exclaimed, causing you to pause and Sirius to blush furiously.
You watched as James smirked and Sirius looked towards you shyly.
“Did I thank you for it?” You asked as you cleared your throat and sat at the far end of the table.
Sirius coughed before he answered. “Er, yeah. Yes, you loved it.” He admitted.
“Good. It was my favourite.” You reiterated and looked to the little babbling baby in James’ lap.
“Who’s the little one? Must be yours.” You mentioned, motioning to James.  The baby was the spitting image of what you could only imagine was his father, except perhaps the eyes. He had...
“Yes, he has his mother’s eyes though.” James admitted, smiling adoringly at Lily who shared his grin and brushed a finger across the baby’s cheek.
“Y/N, this is our son, Harry. Harry James Potter.” Lily stated.
The three friends smiled at the baby at one end of the table before turning to meet your ghostly pale face of at the other end of the table, who seemed to be looking at Harry in horror.
“He’s...” you started before swallowing, “he’s Harry Potter?”
Lily and James shared a look before Lily answered with a simple “yes.”
You looked frantically at the three adults surrounding the child.
“Is this house safe?” You demanded; Sirius was almost excited at how much like your old self you sounded but was startled by how familiar this panic of yours was. The last year you had together was spent in almost a near state of it. “Who knows we’re here?”
“What’s the matter, love?” Sirius started, standing up slowly but stopping all movements when you stood as well, wooden chair grating loudly against the floor beneath you.
“Who knows the child is here? Who can get in?”
“Y/N, please, I need you to calm down and tell us what’s wrong.” Lily pleaded, approaching you with her hands up from the opposite side of Sirius who began doing the same.
“‘You-know-who’ is looking for him. The prophecy.” You stated, eyes watering as you stared at Harry in James’ arms, who had since stood from the table and had his wand pointed at you.
“James, put your wand down.” Sirius spat as his friend as he reached you and gently touched your arm.
“Who knows he’s here? Is this house safe?” You demanded again, your voice starting to sound shrill and your breathing becoming erratic.
“It’s safe love, we’re safe. It’s okay. The house is protected by the Fidelius charm. Please breathe for me.” Sirius said as he gently embraced you and pulled your head to his chest, shielding you from the aim of James’ wand with his body.
His words seemed to work, as you let out a breath and leaned into his touch. “You’re sure?” You muttered into his chest.
“I promise it’s safe, love. I’d not let you or Harry stay somewhere that wasn’t.” He said, pointedly shooting a look at James who had finally lowered his wand.  
He relished the feel of you in his arms for as long as you would allow it. Apparently, you needed it just as much, because it was a few moments before you were finally willing to pull away from his chest.
“Vix, why don’t we go play some cards?” Lily asked, holding up a deck.
You smiled and nodded, and the two of you retreated to the bedroom, Harry on his mother’s hip. The men waited until they heard the door click behind you.
“Look, mate-”
“You pointed your fucking wand at her whilst she fretted over the wellbeing of your son!" Sirius seethed at his friend.
"Sirius-”
“She is broken James. She is not dangerous, she’s scared.”
“Sirius please, I-”
“She’s fucking terrified; Lily and I can hardly touch her, she’s afraid of her own shadow. I didn’t immediately announce myself this morning and I found her hiding in the bathroom with her wand at the ready. She escaped, bloody hell knows how, but she escaped and she’s terrified. And you pointed your wand at her!”
“I’m sorry!” James finally shouted. “Sirius I’m sorry. I’m scared too. I’m scared. And honestly, I think it’s because I’m afraid I deserve it. I feel guilty, Sirius. So. Bloody. Guilty. I couldn’t sleep for months without seeing the look on her face the moment we realized she wasn’t going to make it home with me. And I didn’t sleep at all last night because I hate myself for leaving her there and I think if she could remember me, she’d probably hate me too. And she should. She should hate me. And if she did, she’d probably want me and my family dead. Okay? I’m fucking terrified and I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” James’ finished, his chest heaving as if he ran a marathon.
Sirius huffed at his friend and felt his face heat up. He angrily wiped at it and his hand came back wet – he was crying. “Fuck” He breathed and leaned over the table.
“I’m sorry.” James whispered again.
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You and Lily played a few rounds of goldfish, rummy and big bertha. Lily asked you where you had learned to play these games, but all you could remember was that your friends at school taught you; though you couldn’t remember who the friends were. As the two of you played, your left eye kept twitching.
Lily was reshuffling the deck when there was a knock at the door.
“Hey girls, the healer is here.” James said through the door before gently opening it.
A kind witch who introduced herself as Healer Grundke entered the room with Sirius and James, who picked up a babbling Harry to sit out of the way.
“So,” The Healer started, having you sit at the end of the high bed with your feet hanging off of it, “We’ll start with some easy questions.”
You told the healer your full legal name, your date of birth and hometown, and your parents’ names without any issues.
“Very good,” she continued. “I’m going to continue asking questions about yourself, your life, your family and your friends. But I’m going to cast a diagnostic spell of your mind which should show us a scan of the locations of your brain that your answers are coming from, and if there happens to be anything interfering with you recalling that information. Does that sound okay?”
You nodded and the healer waved her wand above your head. Sirius watched as a scan of your brain materialized above you. Sirius thought it was beautiful, even though he had no idea what any of it meant. Lily appeared to be scrutinising it with much more authority whilst James and Harry enjoyed the look of the pretty lights.
“What does your father do?”
“He...he was an ambassador. He worked in government.”
“Was. Has he passed?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry to hear. How did he pass?”
“Heart attack.”
With every question and answer, lights flashed across your scan, signifying information entering and exiting different areas of your brain.
“And your mother?”
“Also dead.”
“How did she pass?”
“Car accident.”
“How old were you when she passed?”
“Fifteen.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“Half siblings, from my mother’s first marriage. They both chose to stay with their father in Canada when she relocated.”
“Where did you attend school?”
“Hogwarts.”
“Which house were you in?”
More flashes appeared on the scan.
You chuckled before giving her your answer.  
The healer averted her eyes from the scan to your face. “What makes you laugh about that?”
“I was a hat stall.”
“Were you really?” The question comes from James, which earned him a nudge from Lily.
“Yes. It was humiliating.” You said with a smirk.
“What caused the stall?” Sirius asked, though he already knew.
You looked up and to the left as you recalled your sorting ceremony experience.
“The hat probably would have thrown me into Slytherin immediately had I not been muggle-born. Small mercies that, I suppose. I wasn’t quite outgoing or extroverted enough to be placed in the house of the brave, though I had a strong sense of justice. Loyalty was one of my biggest attributes, but I wasn’t always very kind or thoughtful with my words. I wasn’t extremely bookish or the academic type, but I was witty. Apparently, I was a real mystery.”
The healer smirked at that.
“That you are, dear.”
You smiled kindly at the healer.
“Okay, where were we? Ah yes, what was your favourite class in school?”
“Hmm...”
Sirius smirked. My little swot. Can’t even choose a favourite class after all these years.
“Probably charms, or transfiguration. I really enjoyed care of magical creatures as well. Arithmancy and alchemy felt familiar and came easily to me because they reminded me of muggle maths and chemistry. I think...”
You trailed off as the scan turned an angry colour for a minute before it settled back down.
The healer looked at the scan and asked again.
“You liked charms, transfiguration, care of magical creatures, arithmancy, alchemy and...”
The scan moved again, and even Sirius could notice that a flash of light was trying to travel a path between two memories, but one appeared to be wrapped up inside of a silver-coloured orb, which caused the light that had been travelling to it to splinter and disperse.
“And, I think, uhm,” You tried again as your left eye started twitching. “I enjoyed astronomy.” You finished on an exhale.
“Astronomy.” The healer clarified.
“Uhm,” You thought again, “yes, I liked astronomy.”
“Did it cause physical pain to recall that information?”
“Yes.”
Sirius and Lily exchanged a glance.
“Where did it hurt?”
You sighed, “the pain seems to stay primarily behind my left eye. If I try too hard it becomes a pulsing pain that seems to circulate around my skull. I’m sorry I can’t explain it better.”
“No apologies necessary, this is very helpful.”
The healer was quiet for a moment while she looked through the notes.
“Okay, do you remember graduating from Hogwarts?”
You thought for a moment before responding. “I remember that I did graduate, but I don’t remember the day.”
“And what did you do after graduation?”
“I moved in with friends.”
“Who did you live with?”
The scan flashed again.
“I don’t know.” You admitted.
“Did you work?”
“I remember working. I remember fighting.”
“But...” The healer pushed.
“But I cannot remember for whom or with who was working nor fighting.”
The healer was quiet for a moment.
“Y/N, can you look at Sirius for me please.”
Your gaze moved and you held eye contact with Sirius.
“Think of a memory with him.” You were instructed.
A light travelled in the lower left scan unaffected.
“Can you describe the memory?”
A faint blush appeared on your cheeks.
“I thought of how he held me this morning, after an argument in the kitchen.” You admitted.
Sirius’ heart thumped in his chest. When asked for a memory of him, you thought of being held in his arms. I’m one hell of a lucky man.
 “Very good. Now, Sirius, can you ask her about a memory from before she went missing?” The healer in structed.
Sirius thought for a moment.
“Do you remember when we got into a fight, and you charmed my hair pink and wouldn’t reverse it until I announced in front of the entire Great Hall that I was wrong and you were smarter than me?”
Your scan flashed violently as the healer and your friends watched a light travel along a path towards the same large silver orb as before. As soon as the light met the orb, it splintered. You winced.
“Okay, alright. Now, look at Lily please.”
You looked back up at your red-headed friend as your left eye stopped twitching. The red head offered a gentle smile in return.
“Think of a memory with Lily.”
Again, they watched as a light travelled along a path on your scan completely uninterrupted.
“What was your memory?”
“She made me tea and served it the way that I like.”
“When was this?”
“Yesterday – last night. I don’t know what time.”
“Very good,” the healer said, looking at her notes. “Now Lily, can you tell her a memory of you two from before?”
Lily smirked. “What about the time we skived off prefect rounds to go skinny dipping in the Black Lake after we caught McLaggen cheating on me?”
The scan flashed violently again as the light travelled to an orange-coloured orb and splintered upon impact.
“I see...” The healer stated, more to herself than anyone else.
“Healer Grundke, what is it that we’re seeing?” Lily asked finally. Sirius was thankful someone else voiced it, he was sort of intimidated by this woman if he was being honest.
“Well, I can’t be sure yet, but I have a hypothesis. Perhaps we can test it out.” She turned to the other three adults in the room. “Do any of you know how to occlude?”
James shook his head and Lily grimaced, but Sirius nodded his head. “I can’t say I’m extremely good at the practice, but I have some experience.”
“That’ll do, Sirius. Can you please sit beside Y/N here?”
Sirius smirked “I would love nothing more, m’lady.” He said in a sultry voice and winked at you. You rolled her eyes at him. Oh my Godric! We’re making progress!
Sirius propped himself on the bed entirely closer to you than was strictly necessary, but he couldn’t really be blamed, he was after all just a man.
The healer walked across the room and picked up a small picture frame from the fire mantle. She looked at Sirius to ensure he was watching her and threw it across the room where it hit the wall and smashed to the ground.
“We were all thinking it, and she just does it.” James murmured to himself, earning him a kick in the shin from his wife.
The healer walked back over to Sirius and pulled up a matching scan of his brain above him. He was astonished to see how different his scan looked compared to yours. Your lights travelling the paths were a warm yellow, while his were red. The thoughts and paths were also organized differently.
“Okay Sirius, please recall the memory of what you just saw me do.”
Sirius did as he was asked, and the healer watched his scan as the red light travelled a set path before she used her wand to mark where the light travelled to.
“Thank you, now occlude that memory from your mind for me.”
Sirius closed his eyes in concentration. Occlusion didn’t come as naturally to him as it had to his younger brother Regulus, possibly because Sirius never much felt like keeping his thoughts to himself anyways. He preferred to anger his parents by voicing his thoughts and opinions, whilst Regulus found comfort in keeping those locked away. Nevertheless, Sirius understood that sometimes one needed to lock some thoughts away, what with his psychopath cousin Bellatrix and her love for Legillimency. It was also one of the only ways Sirius survived his time at Grimmauld before he finally left for good in the summer between 5th and 6th year. Sirius boxed up this memory of the healer smashing the picture frame in his mind and slowly opened his eyes, keeping the memory in its box.
Sirius’ eyes fell to Lily who looked astonished. He took a peak up to his scan where the healer had erased her mark and exposed a purple-coloured orb that sat in its place.
“Is that...Is that the memory?” He asked under his breath, hardly believing what he was seeing.
“I believe it is.” She answered.
The room sat in silence for a few moments before Lily broke it.
“So, are you suggesting that the orbs present in Y/N’s scans are areas of occlusion?” Lily asked scrutinizing the scan above her friend’s head.
“I believe it is Lily. My current theory is that your friend has occluded memories associated with those closest to her.”
“But she remembered her parents, and siblings.” James interjected from the far side of the room.
“But they didn’t need protecting.” Lily exhaled, looking wide-eyed at her friend.
“Exactly.” The healer said, clearly impressed with the thought process of Lily Evans Potter as well as her own work here today.
“So let me get this straight.” James stated, standing up with a baby in his arms and joining everyone else in the centre of the room. “Y/N has buried her memories of us - her friends and Order members - so deep inside her brain that even she can’t access them in order to keep them safe against...”
“Against people willing to use torture, Legillimency, or other nefarious means to get information. Yes James, exactly.” Sirius finished James’ thought bluntly, staring at his friend with a blank face.
“So, what you’re saying is I’m a total arse.” He concluded.
“Yes, and we have it on a healer’s authority too.” Lily agreed, winking at Sirius.
Sirius glanced up at his scan and noticed the box surrounding his memory fading. The occlusion was wearing off.
“But look, the protection of the memory was worn off now that I’m not focused on protecting it. As far as we know, Y/N isn’t even aware that she is protecting memories. Why is it different?” He asked the healer.
“I'm aware that there are protected memories, I’m just not actively trying to do it.” You countered.
“I have to admit, I’ve not seen anything quite like this before myself.” The healer admitted. “It would appear that whoever or whatever you were trying to protect these memories from required more than a temporary solution.”
“Will she be able to resurface the buried memories?” Lily interjected.
“I believe so. There’s very little that magic can’t undo,” She started as she waved her wand with a quick reparo to the picture frame and the sheet rock that the picture frame hit. “I suspect once she begins to relax and feel safe in her surroundings, this underlying sense of needing to protect the memories will dissipate.”
The room stayed quiet for a few moments; Sirius looked over at you as you fiddled with your hands in your lap. He wished so badly he could jump inside your brain and know what you were thinking. How did this all make you feel?
“I feel a pull,” You started quietly. “When I’m trying to recall a memory, or someone tries to remind me of something. It’s as if someone is pulling at rocks that have been tightly wedged into a crack in the wall. Sometimes they wobble or crumble a bit. Hurts like hell for a minute but, I don’t think it’s impossible.”
The healer hummed in acknowledgement. “It seems that patience and time will be the answer then. It is likely a good thing that your memories don’t all come flooding back in at once. That’s likely to be very painful, both physically and emotionally.”
The room collectively nodded at her words.
“Healer Grundke, could you show me the spell for this scan? It appears that the grey orb is Y/N’s memories of Sirius, and when she tried to recall her memory with me in school, it went to this orange orb. I think we’d be able to help her with some memories if we understood more how they were being organized.” Lily asked.
The healer stared at Lily for a long moment. “It would be my pleasure, dear.” She took a few minutes to show Lily who practiced the incantation over James’ head. “You know, after this war, you’d have quite the career as a healer.”
Lily’s face lit up to the colour of her hair as she stared abashedly at the healer. “Thank you, healer Grundke, that’s quite a compliment.”
The healer smiled kindly at Lily and patted her shoulder, “You give me a call when you’d like to chat more.”
The adults shared some goodbyes as the healer wished you a speedy recovery and Harry babbled absolute nonsense with his slobbery fist waving at everyone.
“Y/N, I owe you one hell of an apology.” James started once Sirius returned from escorting the healer back to St. Mungo's. “Actually, I owe you many apologies, but I want to start with how I treated you this morning.”
Sirius, who was still feeling petulant over the matter, scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. You, on the other hand – the beautiful angel that you are – smiled kindly at your friend despite Sirius’ demeanour.
“That’s alright, James. I don’t think I’d trust myself much either.” You looked back down at your hands. “Someone who’s been held by Death Eaters shows up unannounced and conveniently can’t remember a thing? That’s not suspicious at all.” You laughed wryly.
James seemed appeased by your words, but Sirius rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, but it’s you babe, you’re not suspicious.”
You looked at Sirius very intensely before responding. “But how much of me is left here, Sirius? Do you recognize me? The person I was?”
Sirius stuttered. “Well, yeah. I mean, love, you’re still in there.”
You grimaced and returned your glance to your hands.
“Who is someone without their memories? Their experiences? Those things make a person. I’m nothing more than a shell.” You admitted quietly.
“Oh, honey.” Lily said as she walked back into the room, having put Harry down for a nap. “You haven’t forgotten everything, just us.” You laughed at the deprecation. “And we’re not gone completely, see?” She paused as she pulled your scan back up. She pointed at the orange orb. “There’s me, and there’s this oaf.” She pointed at the grey orb as she nodded towards Sirius who scoffed.
“And tell me, do you remember when James convinced you to set Snape’s robes on fire in 5th year?” She asked and watched as a light travelled towards a red orb before splintering. “See, right here, there’s James!”
“Did I really light his robes on fire?” You asked quietly, looking at James.
“You sure did beautiful; I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of anyone ever in my entire life. Until the day Lily gave birth to our pride and joy of course, but that day still remains a very close second.” He proclaimed. Sirius chuckled and Lily rolled her eyes.
“See? We’re still in there, and we still make up quite a significant portion of your mind, which makes you, you. You’re still here, and we’ll help you get it all back.” Lily finished.
You smiled at your friend with a loving gaze, and Sirius already felt a step closer to the you that had been buried – literally - this past year.
“Were you really with Death Eaters the whole time you’ve been gone?” Sirius asked quietly, afraid of the answer.
Surprisingly, your scan flashed violently, and lights travelled toward two orbs – one black and one green – on the opposite side of the scan. “Yes, I was kept mostly at the Lestrange Manor.” You admitted.
Sirius shuddered. His bat-shit crazy cousin, her husband and her brother-in-law were not ideal hosts for even an afternoon tea, let alone for the past few months.
“You had allies?” Lily whispered, eyes not moving from the green and black orbs on her scan.
“Allies? With Death Eaters?” James asked incredulously.
“James.” Sirius warned, putting his arm behind you protectively.
“James, don’t start.” Lily added. “Look, she’s alive which is more than any of us ever expected. That is thanks to someone, seeing as she had life-ending injuries the last anyone saw her. Plus, I don’t remember her being well-versed in occlumency while she fought with the Order, do you?” She asked the two men who both shook their heads.
“No, so that means, someone taught her. Someone knew she had people to protect and then they helped her do so.” She added and watched again as lights travelled to the two orbs before fizzing out.
Sirius looked over at you as you rubbed none-to-gently at your temples. He leaned into you and placed his forehead against your shoulder.
“Why don’t we call it a day, hm?” He asked as he drew circles against your back. He could feel you nod your ascent.
“Dumbledore called an Order meeting tonight, five o’clock.” James reminded the room. “Gives you guys about three hours for a nap.”
“That might be good, yeah? You can see everyone again, maybe it’ll help jog your memory.” Lily offered and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Yeah.” You breathed out without looking up.
“Okay, that’s it. You two, out.” Sirius said pointed at Lily and James. “It’s nap time for Princess here.”
“’M not a princess.” You muttered causing Lily and James to chuckle.
“Who said I was talking about you, gorgeous? Now out, out!” He quite literally shooed the other two adults out of the room (in their own house, mind you) and closed the door behind them. He turned to face you as you sat on the bed looking at him with a cheeky smile.
“What’s that look for?” He asked as innocently as Sirius Black could manage.
“If you wanted a nap so bad, you could have just said so Princess.” You said, smirking at him.
“I have no shame; I’m willing to admit I am a Princess and would love a nap.” He peeled his jumper off and watched as you moved up to the head of the bed and laid down on the right side. Sirius felt a crack in his chest at the sight of you curled up there; that was the side of the bed you always took when you moved in together. Without thinking, Sirius shifted into Padfoot and leapt onto the bed, curling up on the opposite side. He was startled by a sharp laugh.
“No way.”
Padfoot turned to you and tilted his head.
“I remember Padfoot.” You said. The large black dog could feel both of his ears pop up as he let out a whine. Remembers. Remembers good dog.
“He was always such a pain in my ass.” You muttered with a smirk as you pulled the throw blanket over your body. Padfoot’s chest rumbled, am not pain, am good dog. You heard what could only be described as a doggy scoff as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.
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Continue to part three here.
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rynwritesreid · 9 days
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Heaven’s Gate| Spencer Reid
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A/N: MGG and Theo James will forever be the most attractive men to me. How can they both co-exist in this world?! Anyway, I hope everyone is doing amazing, and yes I don’t know any of you irl, but I love each and every one of you, and thank you for 1k followers. I hope you are all having the day you deserve, and please if anyone at anytime wants to talk about anything and everything, I am always 100% down to do that 🫶🏼 Jag älskar dig.
Request: Too Sweet by Hozier from the lovely @ladylincoln . On requests, I’ve had one to do head cannons/drabbles/etc about pregnant R! With the cm men, if anyone else requests for these please let me know, as I will be doing these requests v soon!:)
Summary: Spencer Reid truly loves you, but is questioning if this relationship if fulfilling for the both of you. However, after he realises he wants to be with you, you think it should be better to break up anyway because you think he deserves someone better!
Content: F!reader. This is mainly fluff, but there is angst and mature themes. MDNI 18+. Light dom/sub themes. Talks of breaking up. Caring/loving Spencer. Insecure reader. Based on too sweet by Hozier
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Spencer Reid loves you, he truly does. You are, in almost every sense of the word, perfect. He fully believes that if you had met him 10/15 years ago, then you two would be the perfect match. But Spencer is not the person he was back then, now. Why would he be? He’s been through so much, that no one can blame him for changing. He just sees the world differently now, and that is okay. 
His friends, they loved you. They often described you as the perfect mix between Reid and Garcia. You were highly empathic, incredibly smart, amazing with technology, loving and compassionate, you have a beautiful personality and the most incredible smile. Spencer knew almost everyone who knew you, loves you. 
And while Spencer loves you, he wished you were more experienced, or well to put it better, he wished you were more mature. You viewed the world through rose tinted glasses, and that nobody can be truly evil. He did love that about you, but he knew it wasn’t true. The world and humanity can be evil, and he didn’t know how to break that to you, and he knew that if you stayed with him, that your version of reality would be shattered. 
Spencer had also taken note that vocally you were very confident. You loved speaking, you were very well spoken, and your voice is soft and calming, everyone loved listening to you speak. But you were very self-conscious about your body image. Most people wouldn’t notice it, but Spencer had spent a lot of time admiring you, and he had picked up on the fact that you wouldn’t let people stare at your body for too long. 
Spencer tried to find the right words to express his concerns to you. He knew you deserved honesty, but he also feared hurting you. Spencer didn’t want to break up with you, but he didn’t know if he could wait for you to become more bitter towards the world or if he really wanted you to be, less sweet.
So, as he sat next to you, listening to you tell all his friends the most amazing stories, waiting for you to notice his hand on your thigh, his mind wondered as what to say to you, or if he was going to say anything at all. 
But deep down, Spencer knew he couldn't keep his feelings bottled up any longer. As he felt the warmth of your hand enveloping his on your thigh, he turned to look into your eyes. The love and admiration that shone in them brought a pang of guilt to his heart.
"Hey, can we talk for a moment?" Spencer's voice was soft, hesitant.
You turned to face him, concern flickering across your features. "Of course, Spencer. What's on your mind?"
Taking a deep breath, Spencer gathered his thoughts before speaking. "I... I've been thinking a lot lately about us. About you. You're incredible, and I care about you more than words can express. But I can't ignore the fact that there are things we need to address."
Your brow furrowed slightly, sensing the seriousness in Spencer's tone. "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." Spencer paused, searching for the right words. "I see how compassionate and kind you are, and it's one of the things I love most about you. But I also see how the world has a way of changing people. I worry that your view of the world might shift in a way that... that might hurt you." Spencer's voice faltered slightly, his gaze never leaving yours.
You listened intently, feeling a knot form in your stomach. "Spencer, are you saying you don't think we're right for each other because of how I see things?"
"No, no, that's not what I'm saying at all," Spencer rushed to clarify. "I just... I want us to be able to navigate through everything together. To be open and honest with each other, even when it's difficult."
“Spencer Reid, I thought you were breaking up with me.”  You felt at ease now knowing he didn’t want to break up with you, but you were still on edge. "Never," Spencer replied quickly, his eyes wide with sincerity. "I could never imagine my life without you in it. I just want us to be able to grow together, to face whatever challenges come our wayside by side. I love you more than words can convey, and I want us to have a future together where we can both be our true selves, no matter what life throws at us."
Your eyes softened as you took in his words, a wave of relief washing over you. You were at a loss for words, this man was far too perfect for you. “Spence, I’m ready to go home now. But you can stay with your friends if you’d like.” Your voice still soft, but Spencer could tell there was a hint of sadness.
As Spencer gazed into your eyes, he felt a surge of love and determination. Without hesitation, he stood up, offering you his hand. “You think I’m about to let you go home and cry because you thought I was going to break up with you? No way. I’m coming back with you.”  he said softly, a reassuring smile playing on his lips.
It was a quiet journey back, neither of you speaking a word to one another. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, but it was more like you both comfortable with each other. 
*
Once you were back at your apartment, Spencer broke the silence “You know, you shouldn’t be self-conscious. I wish you could see yourself the way everyone else sees you.”
You looked up at Spencer, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your eyes. His words touched you deeply, a warmth spreading through your chest at his sincerity. "Spencer, I... I don't know what to say," you began, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I've never had someone care for me the way you do."
Spencer took a step closer to you, his gaze unwavering. "Well, get used to it because I'm not going anywhere," he said with a small smile that reached his eyes.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to cup his face in your hands. "Thank you," you whispered, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion swirling between you two.
In that moment, surrounded by the quiet of your apartment and the gentle illumination of soft lamplight, Spencer pulled you into a tender embrace. He gave you a small kiss, one that he knew he would be able to give you again and again. 
“Spencer.” You paused for a brief second, you felt your eyes welling up once again. “Maybe we should break up. You deserve someone who knows what you’ve been through. Someone who is the perfect match for you.”
Spencer's heart skipped a beat at your words, the air in the room growing heavy with unexpected sorrow. He pulled back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. "No, no," he whispered, his voice laced with urgency. "You are everything I never knew I needed. You bring light into my world, and I can't imagine my life without you in it." Spencer's hand reached up to gently brush away a tear that escaped down your cheek.
You shook your head, feeling conflicted and overwhelmed by emotions. "But what if I'm not enough for you? What if my inexperience or naivety holds you back from finding true happiness?" Your voice quivered with uncertainty as you voiced your deepest fears.
Spencer's expression softened, his thumb caressing your cheek tenderly. "You are more than enough for me," he murmured, his eyes filled with unwavering sincerity. "I don't want someone else. I want you.”
Spencer grabbed your face, making sure you were making direct eye contact with him. “Don’t ever say or think that you are not good enough for me.” He didn’t let you respond before pulling you in for a kiss. But this was deep, and unforgiving. He wanted you to know he meant it. 
As the kiss deepened, a flood of emotions washed over you. You felt the intensity of Spencer's love and devotion in that single moment, a reassurance that erased any lingering doubts in your mind. His lips were firm yet gentle against yours.
But Spencer wasn’t finished, he wanted to prove to you how perfect you are to him, and he wanted you to regret thinking you weren’t good enough for him.
He broke the kiss, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce determination. "I want to show you just how much you mean to me," Spencer whispered, his voice husky with emotion. Without hesitation, he took your hand and led you to the bedroom.
"Spencer," you whispered, feeling a rush of emotions welling up inside you.
He silenced you with a soft kiss, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that spoke volumes. With each caress, each touch, Spencer conveyed his feelings for you in a language that needed no words.
Spencer unbuttoned your shirt, revealing your prink bra underneath. “How could anyone this beautiful, be self-conscious about themselves.” His voice still husky but filled with admiration. As he started to strip you from the rest of your clothes, his eyes wondering your body, but he wasn’t allowing you to hide from him. 
Spencer gently laid you down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. He traced the curve of your cheek with his thumb, a soft smile playing on his lips as he took in your beauty.
“Now what can I do to show you, you are enough. That you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon?” Spencer trailed off, his eyes reflecting a mix of desire and adoration as he leaned in to kiss you once more.
Another A/N: I’ve recently got into playing ACNH(I know I’m late) so if anybody wants to be friends on there please let me know:)
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pastanest · 4 months
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Spencer Reid x she/her!reader
A/N: this just might be the steamiest thing I’ve written since I was a 14 year old on wattpad doing god’s work. anyway, merry christmas sluts x
warnings: suggestive but not outright smut, use of petnames, soft!dom Spencer
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Orbit
Prison can have longterm effects on a person, regardless of the duration of time spent behind bars. If you were to ask Spencer Reid what aspect of him was impacted most greatly by his sentence, he would tell you it was his brain; more specifically, his ability to think. Now, he finds himself taking 60 minutes to make deductions that would have taken him 60 seconds. Time spent locked in a cage has left his mind feeling like it never left; his skull no longer feels metaphorically big enough for him to organize his thoughts, separate them for long enough to distinguish them. The incredibly open mind that Spencer has always had is most often a jumbled, frustrating mess, which only exacerbates the frustration already found there. That is, until you enter a room.
He hasn’t said it to you explicitly, but if anyone asked, Spencer would be unable to deny your innate ability to help him. It’s almost poetic, the way he views you, like you’re the moon to his planet of thoughts; you calm his tides simply by being in his orbit. By existing in his space, you soothe his mind enough to just think, and he’s incapable of ever taking that for granted.
While he can’t spell that out to you without risking mortification over your natural assistance to him with a brain function that should come naturally to him, you are a qualified profiler who has come to understand - in your own way - that Spencer just needs to be around you, sometimes. And he acknowledges that you have an understanding of this, of course. So, when there’s a knock at your hotel room door at 2am, and you scramble out of bed, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and running to the door to find him standing on your doorstep, the surprise that flashes across both of your faces is not something Spencer had predicted.
You are surprised because you can’t help wondering if your thoughts inadvertently summoned Spencer to your doorstep, still wearing his button-up shirt, tie and suit pants that you’d seen him in when working the case together today. On the other hand, Spencer is surprised to find you standing before him wearing nothing more than an oversized t-shirt, from what he can see, alongside the visible signs of you appearing to be…flustered? Your chest rises and falls with heavy pants, your cheeks are flushed, and your pupils are dilated in a way that perhaps only Spencer would notice, but he most definitely notices.
“Spencer! Wh- Come in!” You stumble over your own words, stepping aside to grant him passage into your hotel room.
He strides past you, a firm frown etched on his face. He had thoughts he needed to organize, hence his untimely arrival, but now you have presented him with an entirely new enigma that is his personal mission to crack.
Spencer takes a seat on an armchair in the corner of your hotel room, while you sit on the edge of the bed, notably turned almost completely away from him while you fight to regain some composure; a futile effort, because Spencer has already ruled out exercise (determining you wouldn’t be exercising at this hour or in this room), stress (because he’d have picked up on an irregularity when working alongside you at some point today), and a medical issue (much to your own present demise, you default to him for any questions regarding your health because you trust his expertise) as probable causes, which leads him to a particularly interesting conclusion, in two seconds flat.
“Is everything…okay?” You manage to ask him, and it’s as though you added that shy inflection to your voice just to tick another box on the list in Spencer’s mind, confirming his previous hypothesis without ever intending to.
“Yes, I just needed to think.” What he previously thought he needed to think about is entirely irrelevant now, but he digresses. “Are you…okay?” Spencer returns your question with the same wording, but without the shyness you so graciously included. He’s still making deductions, because he can’t risk acting on his current conclusion until he knows it to be true beyond reasonable doubt.
“Me? Oh, yeah! I’m fine!” You laugh lightly.
Overcompensating, Spencer makes a mental note, ticking another box on the list found in his mind.
A silence settles between you, one that he enforces with purpose. From where he sits in the corner of the room, he watches you like you’re the most fascinating study in human history. Which, he would argue, you are. The way you squirm, aware of Spencer’s gaze on you despite not even looking at him, has him fighting a smirk. There’s a shared awareness in the silence, an acknowledgement of the fact that you and your…chosen activities, are completely exposed to him in this moment, and he’s letting you simmer in that reality for a moment, allowing you time to adjust to that.
The next words Spencer speaks are very carefully chosen, and in that, they knock the air from your lungs.
“What were you thinking about?” The subtext is so clear he could have left the guise of a question out entirely, but there’s an air of respect in that he elects to ignore the access he has to completely embarrassing you. His voice is too quiet for anyone in the next rooms to overhear, so his respectfully tame phrasing is for your benefit, alone, but the answer he’s searching for is clear.
You swallow, hard.
There is no use in lying, not to a man currently counting the microseconds between every breath you take to accurately profile your body’s responses to this interrogation.
“You.”
And never before has Doctor Spencer Reid had a single word eradicate all 187 of his IQ points. It’s as though he can feel them stacking themselves back up in his brain in a frantic, trembling mess. Obviously, that was the answer he had hoped for, but to actually hear you say it goes far beyond any ability he has to accurately predict his own response, particularly when you spoke with a submissive tone that was not possible for him to miss.
5.7 seconds later, when Spencer has regained control over his motor functions, he clears his throat, grateful that you aren’t looking at him to have seen him lose his own composure momentarily.
“Is this the first time you’ve thought of me outside of a professional capacity?” And the award for least seductive means of phrasing an otherwise very hot question goes to…
In Spencer’s defense, it is much easier for him to speak so formally and from a more analytical standpoint. If he lets his emotions take hold now, he may miss a piece of information from you that could be crucial to maximizing this opportunity for you both.
“No.” You answer, your voice more timid now, barely above a whisper.
In your defense, you wouldn’t even regard it as thinking of Spencer ‘outside of a professional capacity’, because you have a running hypothesis that he’d be a professional in that area of life, too.
Still, Spencer hears the anxiety building in your words - or lack thereof - and what they confess to him. The last thing he wants is to overwhelm you. At least, not like this.
Rising from the armchair he’d been occupying, he takes the few strides necessary to stand in front of you, towering over you while you remain sitting on the edge of the bed, your head hanging in shame.
“How many times?” Spencer’s voice is also quieter now, softer, but it’s far from timid. He’s being gentle with you, but his question is a demand for an answer.
You shrug without meeting his gaze, and Spencer raises an eyebrow down at you.
“Words, baby.”
And those two words are enough to make your breath catch in your throat.
“I-I don’t know, haven’t kept count.” You stammer, heart spluttering in your chest.
“Let me do the math for you, then.” Spencer muses, tucking his hands into his pockets as he observes you with a soft smile and darkened eyes. “When was the first time?”
You gulp.
“Do I have to ask for your words again?” That’s a warning.
“N-No, I’m just trying to think.” You try to defend yourself, your face feeling hot.
“You don’t need to do any thinking right now, baby, that’s my job.” Spencer soothes you. “Was it during your first week with the BAU?” He questions softly.
“…Yes.”
And that ignites Spencer’s synapses.
“From your first day, we were sent on a case that we worked tirelessly on. The first night was spent on the jet, second night you were so exhausted you slept on a couch in the office while I carried on working, third night I had to wake you in your hotel room at 3am due to a development on the case and I could tell you were in REM sleep by then, so you wouldn’t have had time that night, either. That means it was either the fourth night after we met, in your hotel room, or the fifth night after we arrived back home. Do you remember which?” Spencer asks gently, this time crouching down to be eye-level with you, looking at you with what you can only describe as puppy-dog eyes.
“…In the hotel.” You admit bashfully, meeting Spencer’s gaze for just long enough to see a flicker of his resolve crumbling.
You couldn’t even wait until you got back home? Bad girl. But he’ll keep such a notion to himself, for now.
“That’s good, thank you for telling me,” He praises instead, tucking your hair behind your ears from where he crouches in front of you, while you remain seated on the edge of the bed. “And since then, would you say it’s been once a week, or more?”
Your eyebrows furrow at this question, and Spencer is quick to amend it.
“Do those choices for answers not suit you, sweet girl?” He coo’s, watching you fall into a submissive headspace like it’s second nature for you.
“No…Once a week, but not just…one time.” You struggle to say, your voice sounding small, but you’re melting into the sensation of Spencer’s fingertips dancing over your cheek.
“I see,” He muses, trying his best not to reveal the fact that his brain is short circuiting over that information. See? Imagine if he’d rushed into this and missed out on hearing you admit that! He’d have rather been shot. Again.
“How many times is it usually?” This question has piqued Spencer’s interest more than he cares to admit, but he conceals that well.
“…Three.” You breathe.
“And how many times tonight?” His own voice is a whisper now, his fingertips trailing down your neck.
“Two,” You begin to say, and Spencer’s mind is already sounding like a casino with every machine hitting a jackpot in unison, before you add. “…and a half.”
It takes Spencer a solid second, and a second of being solid, to process that.
“I interrupted you?” There’s a huskiness to his voice that was not there before, and when you nod, he clears his throat. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby. Can I make it up to you?” And while he stands back up to his full height to lean over you, you instinctively fall back against the bed in what appears to be a practiced mating dance between you, despite it being the very first time.
“Can I?” It’s only when Spencer repeats his question that you realize you are yet to respond. In your defense, you had forgotten your own name because of the hazel in his eyes.
“Yes.” No sooner has the breathy word passed your lips, than his lips descended on the side of your neck.
Spencer’s stubble maps a trail down your throat, gently scratching at the skin while his lips leave tingling kisses in his wake. But if you think Spencer Reid’s mind has stopped working just yet, you are sorely mistaken.
“You said usually around three, implying that as your minimum,” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, his lips nipping at the shell of your ear. “-so that’s a minimum of three orgasms a week for the twenty weeks since we met, that’s a total of 60, but we should leave room for anomalies, so let’s round that up to 70, just to be as accurate as possible.” Spencer murmurs. “Is it always me you think of?” He’s incapable of masking the hope found in his own voice.
You nod frantically.
“Words, baby.” This time, that reminder is punctuated by a soft bite to your neck.
“Y-Yes, you, always you, every time.” You shudder. And who can blame you, when you’ve always known him to be capable of this?
“So I’m responsible for around 70 of your orgasms, without ever having touched you.” Spencer almost can’t believe it, but he can hear how smug he is in his own ears.
One of his hands presses into the sheets beside your head, holding himself up, but his other hand squeezes at your waist through the fabric of your oversized shirt, and he groans into the crook of your neck in approval.
“So soft.” He praises, wanting nothing more than to worship at the altar that is you.
Spencer’s fingertips trace the hem of your oversized shirt, the warm skin of your thighs tempting him beyond his previous ability to comprehend.
“May I?” He requests, ever the gentleman.
“Please.” You answer with the best synonym for ‘yes’ in this context that Spencer could have hoped for.
And he doesn’t hesitate. Long fingers slowly raise the hem of your shirt, bringing it up until it’s just above your belly button, and he lays his palm flat against your stomach, the skin fluttering under his touch. While his lips continue to lavish your neck, collarbone and ear, his free hand descends to the band of your panties, but doesn’t slip beneath it. A whine passes your lips when his hand continues its path south, and you feel him smirk against your neck, until his own breathing shudders.
“Oh, baby…” He groans, having never been more thrilled to feel a soaked piece of fabric in his life. “Look at you, look at the mess you’ve made of yourself. Poor little love.” Spencer coo’s.
But when you shake your head, he halts his movements completely.
“What is it, baby? You want to stop? That’s okay.” He immediately falls into a softness intended to comfort you, not wanting you to feel even remotely uncomfortable or upset. His kisses move to your cheek, each one an act of devotion. “It’s okay. Being in a submissive headspace can be incredibly overwhelming at times, and you can always tell me if it does. We don’t ever have to do anything that you don’t want to do, sweet girl. In fact-“
It’s only when you turn your head to meet Spencer’s lips with your own, that you manage to stop his ramble and his entire train of thought.
“It’s not that.” You’re quick to reassure him, not wanting him to overthink about having breached your boundaries.
“Then…what?” Spencer asks, looking into your eyes with the most sincere concern.
“I just wanted to correct you, because I didn’t make a mess of myself. You made a mess of me.” You smile up at him, and the sweetness with which you say something so sinful is enough to make Spencer’s heart drop right out of his chest.
In all his years, he has never understood the sensation of blood rushing away from his brain, more than he does right now.
His gaze softens with both relief and arousal, a sigh passing his lips that evolves into a light chuckle, before his lips fall to yours again, meeting you in a heated kiss. And when Spencer’s hand continues its previous path, he feels your thighs part, and a growl of some description rumbles in his throat.
“That’s my girl.”
That possessive title causes a delighted shudder to rock through you, which Spencer makes a prominent mental note of.
“70’s the number to beat.” He whispers in your ear seductively, and your jaw falls open.
“In one night?!” It’s more of a squeak than a question, but it makes Spencer laugh into the crook of your neck as his lips descend it.
“As much as I’d love to ruin your body for anyone other than me, I think that just might ruin you entirely, which isn’t my aim. But…” He bites at your neck. “I can promise you, you’re getting more than three.”
From where you lie, you can feel something pressing against your thigh that tells you it’s going to be a very, very long night.
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ceijoh · 2 years
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title: my wish is you 
summary: where his best friend is in love with him 
word count: 4k+ 
warnings/contents: angst, jealousy, insecurities, doubts, fluff (f!reader)
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You never once questioned your position in Atsumu’s life. You were his partner, his support, his home, the person he shares his weird jokes and thoughts with. 
You knew that he loved you the most, but you weren’t his first love. It didn’t matter to you, hell, you had your first love before Atsumu but he just wasn’t in your life anymore. However, it couldn’t be said the same for Atsumu. 
You knew their history; they were good friends in high school, became best friends in college and she’s stuck by him ever since then. She’s known Atsumu for longer than you have and that never bothered you. Relationships aren’t defined by time, they’re defined by feelings. You knew that they both held feelings for each other at some point but there wasn’t enough courage on either end to make it happen. 
Everyone thought they would end up together, until you showed up. You caught his attention right away.. There was something Atsumu felt that he’s never felt before. You and him just clicked on levels he wasn’t even aware of.
When he told you all of this, Atsumu half expected you to tell him to never see her again, which would hurt him but if he needed that for your boundaries he would. Though you never did. You understood their feelings, the situation they were both in, but she never tried anything, so why should you tell him to stop seeing her? Besides, he was with you, he chose you and not her to be with. 
He had enough courage to ask you to be his because even for one second, the thought of you slipping through his mind, he knew that he would have regretted it for the rest of his life. 
You were very neutral towards her, you tried to like her at the start of your relationship, you did for the sake of yours and Atsumu’s relationships but she never did. Or maybe she did try but it was the bare minimum. While you tried to make time to hang out with her, she always came up with the excuse that she was busy, however when it was Atsumu asking her it was always a resounding yes. 
You tried to turn a blind eye to some of her behaviours when you truly got serious with Atsumu. Calling him at night, the constant texts from her during the day, expecting to do the things she did with Atsumu before he got into a relationship with you. The way that whenever you three hung out together, or even in a group, she always made you somehow feel like the third wheel. Sharing the inside jokes that she and Atsumu have, the memories that you weren’t there to remember. It just hurt. 
--
You decided to bring it up with Atsumu one night, after dinner. Putting the last wet dish on the rack, you turned to him. Noticing your eyes on him, he placed his phone down and grinned at you. “Whatcha ya thinkin’ ‘bout, angel? 
Fiddling with your hands, you took a deep breath. “Remember when we first started dating, and how you told me that you and Sato-san had feelings for each other?”
Gone was the calmness Atsumu felt around you, and instead his heart picked up its pace. Where were you going with this? 
Noticing his change in breathing, you quickly rectified, “I know that you don’t have feelings for her anymore, ‘Tsum,” reaching over to grab his hand and squeeze it gently. “I just don’t think that she’s over you. Actually, I don’t think she’s ever gotten over you.” 
Now feeling at ease, knowing that you didn’t think of him being in love with someone else. “Does that bother ya?” At your glance, “Wait, don’t answer that!” 
Shrugging, “I mean I feel uncomfortable with her always asking for your time, cutting into our dates. I know she’s your best friend, ‘Tsum, but she’s just always there asking for your time. It seems like I can’t even go on a date with you because she somehow knows and calls you and interrupts us.” 
Atsumu knew you had a point but this was also one of his closest friends, “(Y/N), we just spent a lot of time together before, she’s just gettin’ used to it.” 
“It’s been three years, Atsumu,” you knew that he was going to defend her, you would have been shocked if he just took your word. “Do you or do you not remember what happened on our first anniversary?” 
Remembering back to the day, he did remember her texting him and calling him all day to remind him that they were supposed to have a gathering around Osamu’s place, something they often did. It just so happened that it fell on your anniversary night. The others were fine with it, knowing that your anniversary was more important than a casual night but she felt hurt. 
“No one that just sees you as a best friend does that,” you reasoned out. “No one gets hurt if you’d rather spend time with your partner than your friends.” 
Gulping you realised that this was probably the best time to let out all of the feelings you had about her. 
“It’s just every time we hang out with her, it feels like she’s the one that’s dating you and I’m just your friend. The memories that you share together with her, the jokes, I don’t have those ones that you always bring up when we’re around with your friends, Atsumu,” feeling the familiar prick of tears in your eyes, you quickly brushed them away, something Atsumu took notice of silently. 
“It makes me feel hurt, it hurts me. It feels like I don’t belong in this stupid little world that the two of you have together.” 
“I don’t have the years that she has with you Atsumu, I don’t have the memories of you falling over in front of the ice-cream truck, and how that started such a great summer. I don’t have that!” Gone was the rationality that you wanted when you started this conversation, instead the hurt, the isolation, the inferiority you felt around her was speaking. 
“I’m so worried that one of these days, you’ll wake up and feel like you made the wrong decision, that it was her all along, and I was just someone in the way of that,” noticing that you were crying openly, you brushed them away but it seemed like they never wanted to stop. Not able to speak anymore, you instead focused on your hands, tears still streaming down your face, a sniffle here and there. 
Feeling a wave of defence over his best friend, Atsumu sighed. “Look, (Y/N). I don’t think Michi is in love with me, okay?” He looked at you intently, “Yeah, she gets touchy sometimes and she brings up these memories but that’s the way she’s always been.” 
Flabbergasted that Atsumu just brushed your worries away, you scrunched up your brows. “Are you telling me that it’s all in my head? That her actions are just friendliness?” 
Atsumu didn’t say anything, which you took as confirmation. “What would happen if I did that! What would have happened if I did that with Genji?” At the sound of your first love’s name, Atsumu subconsciously grimaced. 
“How would you feel -as my boyfriend- if we hung out with Genj? The fact that I bring up all these memories that Genji and I share, that you weren’t a part of? How would you feel if I started hugging Genji longer than necessary, Miya?” You spat out. Yes, you were still hurt and angry but you thought your boyfriend would have at least pandered to your worries. 
The feeling of his heart clenching at the sound of his surname and your ex-boyfriend's first name in a sentence made Atsumu feel queasy. 
“I tell you that I’m worried that you’ll leave me for her, and you can’t even comfort me?” You spoke raising your voice, your nostrils flared and you clenched your jaw. “You were so willing to make up excuses for her, but you can’t even spare me some shitty words to comfort me,” scoffing you rolled your eyes. 
You mumbled something under your breath and stalked off without another word. Atsumu, feeling ashamed of the actions he just did, sat down on the couch. Never had you spoken like that to him before, relaying the conversation in his head, he knew that he rightfully deserved it. 
Why? Why did he feel such a need to make excuses for her? Why couldn’t he have just said the words he wanted to say? That he doesn’t care if they have a bunch of history together, his future only has you in it. He only wants a future with you and no one else. 
Walking into the bedroom, he expected to see you in bed curled away from him but all he saw was an empty bed. Panicking and his heart beating fast, did you leave? Where did you go? He quickly walked to the bathroom, sighing in relief when he saw your things were still there. Moving towards the spare bedroom, he turned the handle only to find out that it was locked. Something shattered within Atsumu when the door didn’t open. This has never happened. 
--
In the morning, Atsumu woke up, spread his hand out, ready to pull you into him. When he felt the empty space, he sat up, trying to get used to the sun, shaking his head. Where were you? When he remembered what happened last night, he clenched his fist and fell back into bed. 
Walking into the living room, Atsumu noticed you by the sofa, a coffee in your hand. His heart felt like it could crack in any minute, and he felt like shit. This was the first time in your relationship that you two decided to sleep apart and fuck, he never wanted that ever again. 
“Hey angel,” his voice was groggy, and he noticed that there was no breakfast. 
“Sorry,” you shrugged, “I just woke up. Had a shitty sleep.” 
Chuckling slowly, “Tell me about it.” 
You both shared a look, and Atsumu felt a little lighter. Walking over to the machine, he could feel your gaze on him. He knew he needed to sort this out now but with an important practice in a couple of hours, he knows he can’t. 
“I’m sorry about-” 
“It’s fine,” you cut him off sharply. “It was my fault to bring it up.” Finishing up your last sip of coffee, you placed it in the sink. “I have a meeting today, I’ll be late so there won’t be any dinner but you have plans with her don’t you?” 
You didn’t have to ask, it was their Tuesday night after all. Looking at your phone, you glanced back at Atsumu, “Actually, I’ll be in and out with meetings all day. Try not to text me, I probably won’t be able to respond.” 
Without another word, you walked up to your shared bedroom intent on getting ready as quickly as you can. 
Stunned at your cold and blunt words to Atsumu, something you’ve never done. Maybe in a teasing tone, but it was always accompanied by a smile. Just how much did he fuck up? 
It was thirty minutes since he last saw you, sitting by the couch sipping his coffee, looking through his phone. He heard you and looked up. Fixing up your blazer and moving quickly to the door, you looked at Atsumu. “I didn’t have time to make your bento today, but maybe she can, if you text her.” Without another word, the door shut. 
Whether it was a metaphor for your feelings with Atsumu, the man did not know. 
--
“Tsum-Tsum, where’s your lunch that (Y/N)-chan always packs?” Bokuto asked, noticing that his teammate just had some store bought pre-made lunch. 
Ashamed, Atsumu was quiet for a moment, earning looks from his three teammates. Hinata looked towards Bokuto and Sakusa who just shrugged in response, “Are you okay, Tsum?” 
Nodding quickly, Atsumu smirked and threw his arm around Bokuto, “Don’t ya worry Bokkun!” 
Tossing in a joke, Atsumu hoped his teammates would just let it go and not pay attention to the rising tension. 
--
“(Y/N) has never once missed making your lunch, even when she had a fever she still made something for you,” Sakusa’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. Turning to the black haired man, Atsumu watched as Sakusa narrowed his eyes at him. “So, what did you do?” 
Plastering a fake grin on his face, Atsumu gave him a thumbs up, “Nothing, Omi-Omi! Don’tcha worry!” 
Blocking Atsumu’s sidestep, Sakusa glared the older man down, “I am worried because my friend is not responding to me.” 
“But I am responding to you.” 
“I’m not talking about you,” Sakusa snapped. It was weird for Atsumu, two people that he cared for a lot, who he’s annoyed until they’re red in the face but never snapped or raised their voice at him, just in less than 24 hours. “Iwaizumi-san says that she’s not responding to him either. Talk.” 
Atsumu sighed in defeat, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave without indulging Sakusa with the problems with you. He didn’t want to tell more people about this, he wanted to fix this as soon as he could, and he’d rather not have other people interfering. Realising it was too late, as Sakusa and Iwaizumi knew of your behaviour, and knowing that if they knew, your other best friends and his brother would definitely know, Atsumu knew he was in deep shit. And maybe Sakusa can give him some advice.  
“I mean, can you blame her?” He turned to Kiyoomi who was staring at him with distaste. “I mean, you basically told your girlfriend that her feelings weren’t genuine. That she was just making it up in her head.” 
“I never said those words,” Atsumu spoke angrily. 
Sakusa just shrugged, “You implied it though. By not acknowledging her feelings, you gave her the assumption that you don’t care about them. Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean that it’s not happening.” 
The younger man brushed off the invisible dust, and sanitised his hands, placing them in his pockets. He looked at Atsumu once. “You’re lucky that she didn’t break up with you,” Kiyoomi stated bluntly. “I wouldn’t fault her if she did.” 
--
Entering her house, something he’s done plenty of times, this was the first time it’s ever felt wrong. He could see her by the kitchen, she turned around giving Atsumu a beaming smile. He shouldn’t be here. This felt wrong. This felt like betrayal. 
“(Y/N) thinks yer still in love with me,” Atsumu began, no point in beating around the bush. Rubbing his face, tired of the day, tired of the fight, “But I said yer not, yer just sentimental.” 
Michi paused her movements, and turned around to face Atsumu. Heart beating in her chest, she tucked a piece of hair behind hair. This was it, this was the moment that she’s been waiting for. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, Michi finally said the one thing she’s been dying to say, “But, Atsumu, I do love you.” 
Atsumu sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair, “Why now? Why now that I’m with (Y/N)?” 
“You knew, you always knew that we had something going on!” 
“And we never took a chance, did we?” Atsumu spat out. “That was both of our faults!” 
“We were supposed to end up together,” she mumbled, the confidence she had moments ago slowly disappearing. 
“We were kids,” Atsumu rebutted, fire in his words. “What I have with (Y/N), this is serious. This is what I’ve been wantin’ all along.” 
“We had that!” 
“We never did!” Atsumu was tired. He was tired of all of this, he didn’t expect this to blow up this big. “Maybe we had a taste of what could be, but what you and I had, does not and will never compare to what I have with (Y/N).” 
“I’ve known you for longer, Atsumu, I know you better than she could ever hope to,” she pleaded. “I’m in love with you, and I know that you’re in love with me. We were supposed to be together, it would have just taken longer.” 
Atsumu moved his mouth to say something, but all he could do was stare at her. He wanted to say ‘maybe in another life’, but the words couldn’t escape him. And he knew that if he said it, it would be a lie. In this life and any other lives that he has, the only person he wants to share them is with you. 
As much as Atsumu wanted to sit down and gather his thoughts, he needed this to get over as soon as he could. He needed to get back to you. 
“I know that I wasn’t ready back then, but now I’m ready for you. I’m here,” Michi glanced at Atsumu, at the man that she’s been in love with for the past decade. “I’m in love with you Atsumu and I want to be with you.” 
He couldn’t help but chuckle, there was his best friend, the person that once held his heart saying the words he once longed to hear. There was something disdainful in her tone, it felt wrong coming from her. It never did with you. It always felt right, like every time you said it a missing puzzle piece was completed inside of Atsumu. 
If it was a couple of years ago, Atsumu would have jumped at the chance but that was before you. Before you turned his whole world upside down and he finally realised what being in love meant. Just because Michi knew Atsumu longer, and she thought that she knew Atsumu deeper, everyone knew it was you. It was you that fit right at Atsumu’s side. 
You were the one that understood his moods, even before you began dating, you never once pushed him. You accepted how he felt and dealt with his emotions, and you were always there to give a hand if he needed or asked for it. It was the late night talks where he didn’t realise that he was already in love with you, it was the eagerness to see your face everyday. To talk to you everyday, to have those mundane and simple things that he despised before but then it was all he wanted to do, because he got to do it with you. 
It was the feeling of being complete with you. Michi completed him in a way that Atsumu knew, she fit into his world, she was best friends with him. But you were his world. You filled in spaces that Atsumu didn’t even realise were empty. The cracks that were filled with your laughter and soft kisses, the void that he ignored was filled with your soft whispers about the future. 
It never felt right until you. 
It’s always been you. 
With the lack of response, Michi bowed her head, “You’re choosing her, aren’t you?” 
Without a pause, Atsumu responded, “Yeah,” looking at her, Atsumu felt nothing. There was an air indifference surrounding her. “I’ll always choose her, no matter what.” 
Atsumu hopes that she understood what he said. Even if she begged, even if she pleaded for him to choose her, it would always be you. It’s always been you. 
Atsumu straightened his back, “I think this friendship needs to end, Sato-san. My relationship with (Y/N) will always be the most important, she’s the most important person to me. I’ve loved her more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and will ever love anyone.” Taking a couple of steps towards the door, “And I can’t have anyone doubting that for her.” 
It took ten years for her to say what she felt, and it only took Atsumu a couple of minutes to destroy her life, and a couple of steps to walk away from her forever. Dropping to her knees, Michi sobbed knowing that she was too late. 
--
You were sitting at the dinner table, the dinner ready to be eaten at any moment. Looking towards the door once you heard it unlocked, you saw as Atsumu walked in, taking a deep breath and looking right at you. 
Closing the door, he hastily made his way to you. Tugging you out of your chair gently, he wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry,” mumbling the words into your neck over and over again, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. 
“I ended my friendship with Sato-san,” shocked at the words coming out of his mouth, shocked at the use of her surname and the formality, you moved yourself a little bit from Atsumu. 
“‘Tsum, what?” 
Repeating what he just told you, Atsumu looked you right in the eyes, willing to believe his truth. “I’ll always choose you.” 
“‘Tsum, you didn’t have to do that. You could have just not spoken to her for a while, you didn’t need to cut her out of your life.” 
Atsumu shook his head, “I never want ya to ever feel like I’m second guessing who I chose, and I know yer,” tapping the side of your head with his fingers, he smiled down at you. “Ya get into yer own head way too much. If she was around, I know you’d always be comparin’ or thinkin’ with that big brain of yers.” 
“But aren’t you sad?” 
“I am,” Atsumu said truthfully. “But I know that I’ll get through it, with ya around,” nuzzling into your neck he couldn’t help continue, “but if it was you.” 
Looking at you, you could see his eyes watering, “If it was you, if I lost ya for some reason, I don’t think I’d be able to continue.” 
Gently cupping his face with your hands, caressing the apple of his cheeks with your thumb, “You never have to worry about me leaving you, Miya Atsumu. I’m yours forever.” 
“And I’ll always be yers, now and forever,” placing his forehead to yours, Atsumu felt his heart be at peace for the first time since last night. “I want ya for longer than forever, angel.” 
Grinning, you moved yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on the couch with you, him on top of you. “I’m more than okay with that.” 
Pulling you into his lap, Atsumu held your hands in his, “I’m sorry,” was what he started with. Tightening his hands, “I’m so sorry I ever made ya feel like that. I don’t care if I have ten years worth of memories with her because that means nothin’ with the forever I want with ya,” Atsumu began. “Those memories were what I remember most when we were kids, those inside jokes are just that, inside jokes with her.  What I want is the jokes we’ll pass down to our kids, the stories that we’ll share to our kids. The memories that I’ll repeat and say to you before I say ‘I do’. All the memories that I had with her, angel, don’t compare nothin’ to one memory I have with ya.” 
“Miya Atsumu,” you started, you could feel your heart beating against your chest rapidly. You never expected Atsumu to stop being friends with her. You truly just wanted for them to take a break. 
You knew he’s loved you since you first met because you were the exact same. The way he filled your world with his brightness, the way he always made you feel like his priority above everything else, when he made you feel seen and remembered. Above all else, you felt warm and safe with him. There was no one but Miya Atsumu for you. 
“You’re a great big sap, you know that?” 
“Angel, I just bared my heart out to ya,” groaning, he pinched your side, a cheeky smirk on his face. “And that’s why yer saying to me.” 
“That’s my heart too, mister,” leaning forward you pressed a soft kiss to his chest. 
Grinning down at you, Atsumu knew that you could feel his heartbeat, and he didn’t care. Whatever he felt for you he wanted you to know. 
“Yeah, princess, it is,” kissing the top of your head. “It’ll always be yours.”
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“Don’t make me choose between you and her.” 
“Why? Because you’ll choose her?” 
“Yeah. I’ll choose her.”
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happy early birthday, miya atsumu, you absolute disgusting goblin (affectionate).
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cringe-but-proud · 3 months
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hiii
can i please request a wonka x fem!reader (timothee’s version)?
like maybe reader is a worker at the market or something so willy sees her everyday on his way to work and they’re friends and he keeps trying to make the perfect chocolate to give to her but he’s a very awkwardly hilarious at flirting?
thank you!! i love your writing sm
Thanks so much! This one was fun to write 😝😝😝
Willy Wonka x Fem!Store owner!Reader(Wonka 2023)
A/n: Requests are open 🤸🤸🤸🤸
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It was a lovely Friday morning. The sun was shining, the skies were clear, and people were out on the streets, ready to start their days.
One of those people seemed a bit more enthusiastic than everyone else.
The infamous Willy Wonka made his way through the streets holding a box, walking like he was a man on a mission.
And he was on a mission. A mission to win the heart of the prettiest girl he knew, Y/n.
Y/n owned a little shop that he walked by everyday on the way to his factory and she sold the most interesting items! Intricately carved, tiny wooden statues, colorful glass bottles, quilts, jewelry, old dolls, and paintings. You name it, she had it laying around somewhere.
Willy visited her shop everyday. Partly because he liked the things she sold and partly because he'd developed a massive crush on her.
And after careful calculation, a lot of trial and error, and almost chickening out like 8 separate times, he was doing it.
He was shooting his shot.
He took a deep breath before stepping into her shop, acting like this was a normal day for him. "Hey, Y/n!" Willy greeted as he walked to the counter she stood behind.
"Morning, Willy." She gave him that small smile that always made him want to swoon and leaned forward on her elbows. "How's it going?"
"Good. Good. It's going good..." He should probably say something else. "How are you?"
"Good. Glad to see my favorite customer."
He couldn't help but smile at that. "Um... I have something for you."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." Willy slid a box across the counter to her.
She picked up the box and admired it. Willy had intentionally chosen to put her gift in a colorful box. She liked things like that.
Y/n opened the box to see a large variety of chocolate, all different shapes and colors, and all delicious looking.
"Oh! These look amazing!" She beamed at him.
"Well, I'd certainly hope so." Willy said with a smile. "I stayed up all night making them.
She paused. "Really?"
"Yes."
"That's- Wow. You didn't have to do that."
"Well, I did." He shrugged. "And I don't regret it."
She chuckled and looked back down at the chocolates. "Is there a reason you're giving these to me?"
Willy thought for a moment. This would probably be a good time to tell her how he felt. A simple "Because I like you" would work. But, his mind and body were suddenly not working, so instead of doing that, he stared at her.
...
"Willy?"
"Yes! Yes. They're because.. I just wanted to show that I appreciate what you do."
"What I do?"
"Yes."
"You spent all night making me chocolate because I run a general store?"
He paused. "... Yes?"
Y/n chuckled. "Well, that's really nice of you." She popped one of the chocolates into her mouth and was visibly satisfied with the taste. "Amazing, as always."
He blushed at the compliment. "Only the best for you." He replied after a split second of hesitation.
Y/n looked away and he swore he saw a light blush dust her cheeks.
That's good, right? Yeah. That's good.
"Um..." She cleared her throat. "That's nice. Thank you. You should probably be off to work now, right?"
"Uh..." He really didn't want to leave yet. "I was thinking I could stay here a little longer. If you're not busy?" He hadn't been this nervous about asking something in a long time. The second it took for her to reply felt like the longest moment of his life.
"I'd like some company." She said with a sweet smile.
Willy ended up staying there the whole morning. She made him coffee and he drank it, despite the fact that he didn't like coffee. But, he was too nervous to make another move.
He began to leave her shop, a bit disheartened by his failed attempt when Y/n stopped him.
"Willy?" She smiled, a slightly nervous smile. "Do you wanna... Like.... Get dinner tonight?"
His cheeks flushed, his eyes widened, and his heart began to race. "Really?"
She nodded.
"Just the two of us?"
"Just the two of us."
He beamed at her. "I would love that."
Looking back on it, Willy was glad she made the first move. Who knows how much longer it would've taken him?
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yesimwriting · 3 months
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yes i want more felix and oliver !!
a/n i love when people enable me :)
this could be read as taking place at some point after match burns (though this isn't part 2!) but can also easily be read on its own
---
The world has been dulled by a drowsiness so thick and full it's disorientating. You're so tired, so trapped in the state between falling and asleep that it's hard to think. Despite this, he somehow manages to be a bright spot, so warm and safe any and all thoughts of dangers lurking in the shadows are slowly vanishing.
You don't remember Felix getting here. You're not sure when he entered your room through your shared bathroom or when he laid down next to you or when he started tracing soothing patterns against your shoulder. All you know is that there was a nightmare that latched onto the ghosts estates this grandiose and ancient seem to attract and then there was Felix.
By morning, when you'll no longer need Felix to serve the purpose of daylight, you'll be embarrassed. Even now, you're still half-aware of the fact that there's a lot about this that you should find mortifying. Felix knowing to come in and wake you means you must have been showing signs of distress while asleep. Having a nightmare during your first night at Saltburn is a little pathetic, but it's something you can live with. However, needing Felix to stay with you until you fall asleep is a juvenile kind of pathetic that you don't think you could get through.
"Thanks for..." Your voice feels small and far away, but you don't think you can manage anything more concrete. "Waking me up."
Felix's fingertips continue the pattern they've been outlining against your skin without hesitation. "It's nothing," he whispers, "You were tossing and turning so much." Yeah, you'll definitely be embarrassed tomorrow. "Feel better now?"
You manage a nod. "Yeah..." Your eyes fall shut, you have to force yourself to open them again. "Better." Maybe if you sat up or--or moved away, you'd be able to focus. You shift, but you're too tired and, honestly, comfortable for it to be productive. "So, if you...if you want to go back...that'd be okay."
The lack of desire to get the words out paired with the need to remain polite, to make sure that he doesn't think you don't appreciate the gesture makes the words feel awkward. Felix's hand moves down to your arm. He angles his head forward, so close you can feel his breaths against your cheek. "Do you want me to?"
His words are soft, voice low and slightly gravelly. You're reminded of Felix in a world that feels so far from the one you're currently in, seeing him at parties, around the girls he'd pick from time to time.
There would always be a flurry of them around him, but you could always tell which one he was actually entertaining because of the way he'd become attentive. His ability to make someone seem like the only person in the world has always been fascinating. It's a talent that's more than romantic, too. It's part of the reason everyone always wants to be around him.
"No." The confession is faint as it accidentally tumbles past your lips.
The honesty of it knots something in your stomach. It's more than fear or the inability to fall asleep. You want Felix to stay. That's it. There's no reason or justification for it, you just...you want Felix.
But there are social boundaries, and things that you can't do with friends. Intentionally sleeping in the same bed, especially as close together and touchy as the two of you are being, is definitely one of those things.
There has to be a way to explain it without tiptoeing into territory that you're incapable of handling. Especially when it comes to Felix, who you spent an entire semester trying not to fall in love with. You survived by the skin of your teeth just to be invited to spend the summer with his family. You feel like an idiot for thinking you'd be able to get through this.
"Okay." He says it like it's that easy, like that's the only thing worth considering. "Then I'll stay." You're not sure if he can sense your uncertainty, but he's quick to tack on a justification, "Need you well rested." The vague feel of embarrassment attempts to nip at you again. "I know it can be hard to get used to it here."
It's a phrase that would seem like a blanket statement of instinctual politeness from anyone else, but from Felix it feels real, his understanding almost tangible. It's enough to make you fully ease.
"It's still nice, though." An understatement you would've never let slip past you if your eyelids weren't growing heavier by the second. Nice is such a bland term, it almost feels like an insult, especially when considering the fact that you're not just talking about his home. "I'm glad you invited me."
His touch has now moved to concentrate on your forearm. "I'm glad you came." A beat of silence stretches between you, your eyes finally falling shut. Felix's fingertips brush against the inside of your wrist. If you were any more awake, the carefulness of the touch would have gotten to you. "It is still nice."
----
The lack of light bleeding into the hall from beneath the door that leads to Felix's room makes the air entering Oliver's lungs feel stale.
It's late enough that the darkness could mean nothing. Felix's extra curriculars of choice have him in the habit of keeping strange hours. It's more common than not for him to up until the wee hours of the nights, even if there's nothing for him to do. However, from time to time the long nights will catch up to him and he'll fall asleep early.
Oliver can almost convince himself that that's all this is, can practically picture Felix fast asleep above the covers and only half undressed. He would be able to believe it if it wasn't for the soft glow illuminating the space beneath the door that leads to your room.
A familiar tightness forces his ribs to contract. Oliver swallows, stepping towards the door to Felix's room. He knows you to be a late night reader from time to time...
His hand is now grasping the door handle. There's nothing inherently strange about what Oliver's doing. Felix did say to come find him if Oliver had trouble sleeping. He pulls the door open slowly, taking his time to make sure that the creek of the old hinge's stays as quiet as possible.
Oliver peers into the room. The darkness isn't easy to see in, but eventually he makes out slightly tousled sheets on an empty bed and the door to the bathroom cracked open.
Of course it'd take so little time for you to completely pull Felix into your orbit. An entire semester of Felix doting on you and you managed to commit to keeping him at arm's length. One night in his family's home and you're suddenly no longer cautious. Maybe you're not as noble as you try to seem.
He's approaching the door to the bathroom, unsure if seeing it would be as unbearable as imagining it. Felix's hands on you, your body pressed against his.
"Hello?" Felix's voice carries over from the other side of the bathroom, slightly confused but casual. "Oliver?"
Oliver swallows, blood running cold despite the fact that all that he's been caught doing is justifiable. He forces himself to walk forward, to open the door to the bathroom fully. "Yeah."
Oliver crosses over, opening the door to your bedroom with an uncomfortable lump in his throat.
What he sees isn't--Felix is sitting up, the bedside lamp closest to him turned on, an open book held in one hand and your sleeping form holding onto the other. It's not the coming together, the snapping of tension and desire he had been imaging. In many ways, its something worse.
"Couldn't sleep?"
Swallowing down the influx of emotion that Oliver isn't capable of dealing with, he nods blankly. "Yeah. Still adjusting."
"It's normal," Felix replies easily, "She couldn't sleep either."
Felix's solution for you not being able to sleep was to crawl into bed with you. It shouldn't matter, he's seen the two of you get away with displays of affection more nauseating than this on campus. Lingering kisses against each other's cheeks and foreheads and jaws during a night out, holding onto each other at the few parties you agree to attend, Felix tucking you into bed after you drink. But this is--this is a touchiness not hidden under the guise of alcohol.
Oliver nods again. "Oh."
"Fell asleep quickly, though." Felix's thumb brushes up your arm. "Jet lag paired with Farleigh sneaking her one too many glasses of wine." Another empty tilt of Oliver's chin. "Y'can come here, if you want."
The offer comes out so casually, Oliver starts to wonder if he missed something. "What?"
Felix sighs, a hint of some lighthearted humor in the sound. "It doesn't need to be a thing, it's just sleep."
It can't possibly be that casual to him, can it? Especially with the level of care in the way Felix is touching you. And even if it is just a matter of sleep, this is still your room. "What about--"
"She won't mind," Felix dismisses easily. "She likes you." It's one thing to be friendly with someone, another for them to crawl into your bed after you've fallen asleep. "She'll get it."
Oliver's still not sure, his confusion affecting his ability to figure out which reaction will be what Felix wants most. He deliberates for a moment before stepping forward, approaching the other side of the bed.
Now that the overwhelmingness of the domesticity is starting to wear off, you do seem different in your sleep. More vulnerable. It isn't an unappealing way to see you.
He pulls the sheets back carefully, you stir regardless. You shift away from Felix's touch, moving onto your side. Of course you'd wake up just in time to take this from him, too.
You wipe at your eyes tiredly before squinting them open. It takes a moment for you to place yourself, but once you do, the slight confusion behind your eyes is nearly drowned out by an oddly warm confusion. "Oliver."
You bend an arm in an attempt to prop your head up. It takes you a second, but you eventually manage. Farleigh must have encouraged to have a little more than just a few extra glasses of wine at dinner.
"Y'okay?" Your tone is more kind than confused as you stare up at him with sleep still in your eyes.
The answer should be easy. Oliver should be working at accepting Felix's suggestion. The words are there, balancing on the tip of his tongue, but instead of getting them out, he's too focused on you.
It's a curious attention. Half asleep, hair tousled, makeup washed off, and the oversized shirt you're sleeping in sliding down your shoulder. All of these things should make you seem smaller, less eye drawing. Instead, being dressed down just adds a softness to your aesthetic appeal.
Maybe what makes you so appealing to Felix isn't as hard to grasp as Oliver originally thought. The thought twists in him strangely, jabbing at a part of him and encouraging another.
"Ollie couldn't sleep either." Felix gently squeezes your forearm. "I was asking him if he wanted to stay in here tonight, but he didn't want to overstep."
You blink, stiffening slightly for the first time since you woke up. The implications of Felix's statement take a second to fully sink in, but once it does, Oliver can see the hesitation coloring your features. "Oh."
Felix traces a pattern up your arm. You turn your head to look at Oliver again. "You've seen me before a 9:00 AM lecture after a night out and at every stage of finals week grief, I'm not sure there are any boundaries left."
You sit up, pushing yourself close to the center of the bed in a wordless invitation. Oliver swallows before letting himself sit down at the edge of the bed. He takes his time moving beneath the sheets. Your scent clings to the fabric.
The bed's not small, but with the three of you, it is a bit of a squeeze. It's reminiscent of being a little kid crawling into bed with a parent after a bad dream.
"You are pretty harsh during exams." Felix's voice is light, bordering on teasing.
Your mouth falls open in a mock gasp. You twist your arm, trying to push Felix off. He grins, easily resisting your halfhearted attempts to get him off of you. "I am not that bad." You're still pretending to want Felix to let go when you look back at Oliver. "Am I?"
To be honest, during finals you're constantly preoccupied. Even when you're meant to be spending time with friends, it's clear that your mind's stuck on assignments and exams. You're also prone to irritability. The only actual argument Oliver's ever had with you was mainly caused by the stress of an essay you were trying to finish. You apologized almost immediately after, but it's still the most angry he's ever seen you be.
The truth doesn't feel relevant. "You're perfectly lovely all times a'year."
You grin, Felix lets out a sound that's equal parts laugh as it is groan. "Don't tell her that. It'll go to her head."
You gently push at his shoulder, Felix exaggerates a pout.
Like all the praise you receive on a daily basis hasn't already gotten to you. You may not have a family name that carries weight, but you do have the way that people see you, a regular dorm hall darling with the grades and social circle to match.
You don't bask in the praise or let it change your outward appearance, but it has to inflate your ego. You've never implied that you come from a family that struggles financially, but you're not like Felix either. Holding your own with his kind must give you an inflated sense of self.
But this is another truth that serves no purpose. Not with Felix's teasing yet content smile and the attentive way you're watching him.
Oliver extends an arm, placing a hand on your knee. You sit up a little more, uncertainty briefly making it easier for you to be awake. It's not that you're never touchy with Oliver, it's that he's rarely the one to start it. "Oh, she's too much of a sweetheart."
It's honest enough. You are too nice to let anything openly go to your head. The words get you to finally relax at the contact. You must have decided that Oliver's just in a friendly mood. "Thank you." You then turn your head to look at Oliver, "See? Some people think I'm nice."
Felix rolls his eyes, letting his hand fall off your arm for the first time since Oliver's arrival. It's a small shift, but some subconscious part of you seems to notice, eyes instinctually searching for his hand.
"Since when are you on her side?" The comment, delivered with a tone that isn't quite teasing enough to cover the tinge of annoyance that still manages to bleed into the words, only confirms Oliver's theory.
Felix is used to being at the center. Everyone's eyes are always on him, everyone's affections are constantly available. He isn't one to be jealous in a committed way, Oliver's heard about enough of Felix's open flings to know he isn't like that. But he's territorial about those he feels attached to. If Felix Catton deems you worthy of his care, you make sure to make it clear to anyone else that that's all that matters.
The brief flash of defensiveness makes Oliver feel like he's standing a little straighter, a little stronger. "There are no sides."
"Yeah." You shift, leg moving off of Felix's as you try to sit up a little more. Felix's brow furrows.
It hits Oliver, then, that even though you want Felix's approval, you might not need it the way everyone else does. That must be part of the reason Felix is so drawn to you. Or maybe you're just that sure in yourself, in your place in his life that you're willing to push from time to time if the setting feels light enough.
But you're not happy with tension between the two of you, not even the kind that's barely implied. Oliver doesn't think he's ever seen the two of you argue, or look anything outside of completely content in each other's presence.
"We're just joking," you mumble, angling your neck awkwardly to look at Felix.
"Yeah, so am I."
Your gaze shifts over to Oliver, something knowing behind your eyes that he can't quite return. "Mhm."
Felix lets out an exaggerated breath before relaxing his spine and laying down. "Fuck off," he mumbles, the passive aggressiveness forced into the syllables not enough to hide his genuine fondness.
You look over at Oliver, "Can you believe him?"
A combination of being emboldened by the safety of your approval and the urge to feel as indispensable as you are makes Oliver want to joke back. "He seems moody, must be tired."
You laugh again, this time your body leaning towards Oliver until your head lands on his shoulder.
"Fuck off," Felix says again, "Both of you." His annoyance is still undercut by something warm.
Your head is still on Oliver's shoulder, the weight of it impossible to ignore but not exactly uncomfortable. You've stilled significantly, a fact that makes Oliver wonder if you've fallen asleep like that.
Then, you break the silence, "We're kidding."
"I've heard that before," Felix counters flatly. He stretches an arm, reaching for your fingers. "Liked you better asleep."
Felix squeezes your hand, keeping you awake enough to respond. "I'm sure the quiet was nice."
He sits up slightly, "You snore a little."
You're so offended, you lift your head off of Oliver's shoulder. "I. Do. Not."
Oliver waits a beat before adding, "Well."
You turn to look at Oliver, your offense clear. "How would you know?"
"Remember after that one party? You were so out of it, you needed help getting into your room and passed out before I could go." The memory is relatively recent, an end of semester party that you used to celebrate the end of your finals induced hibernation.
You pout. "You two are mean."
Felix runs his thumb across your knuckles. "Extremely." You part your lips like you have something else to say, but you're cut off by a yawn. "We should go to bed."
You tilt your chin up slightly, a potential protest that fizzles out almost immediately. "Yeah." You're tired, there's not even the good humored kind of fight left. "It's late."
You sink into the mattress, eyes shutting immediately. Oliver watches for a second, still unsure in a way he isn't used to. There's something about this kind of softness that isn't easy to place himself in.
Felix leans over, setting his book down on the nightstand. "Are you both settled?"
You nod, eyes still closed. Oliver's a little slower to react, "Yeah."
Felix switches off the bedside lamp. Darkness enshrouds the room. The bed groans slightly as Felix adjusts himself. Oliver follows, moving so that he can lay down fully.
He's closer to you than he's ever been. Your warmth radiates beneath the sheets in a way that's strangely soothing. Oliver isn't sure how he felt so awake just minutes ago. His eyelids are growing heavy. The last thing Oliver registers before falling asleep is Felix's hand on his shoulder, a too brief yet somehow still lingering squeeze that serves as a silent good night.
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fragileruns · 6 months
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Hello love! Would it be possible to request something with derek morgan x inexperienced!reader? I think it's such an interesting dynamic since he's a very suave person. Maybe something about the reader being nervous or insecure of having less experience than he does? You can go either fluffy or smut or both 🥰 I hope this request finds you well. Thank you in advance!! ❤️
hi! thank you for your request <3 it’s just a little blurb but i hope you like it
derek morgan x reader. content warning: mentions of sex but no smut, reader being nervous, derek being a gentleman, reader likes coffee so if you don’t i’m sorry, reader has hair but i think the rest is gender neutral
You had spent longer than you’d care to admit picking out an outfit for your date tonight. You knew that Derek had seen you at your worst - working together had made it inevitable for him to see you sick at least once, tired, irritable, and much worse than that - but it still felt like a big deal.
It was your third date, and you knew what the implications meant. Even if you didn’t, Emily, JJ, and Penelope and taken to relentlessly teasing you to make sure you did know. And sure, you’d known each other for years and had been in this sort of relationship for a few months (your work made it hard to plan times to be together, which was why you’d been on so few dates), but you were nervous.
You had never really been with many people. Somehow, Derek had managed to be with quite a few people even with how often you had to be away for your job: you knew this because everyone did. He wasn’t exactly subtle. You, however, were not as skilled at picking up anyone while you were away or at home, for that matter. The only people you’d been with were the few actual relationships you’d had in the past.
So, you were sitting on his couch after your date - he had cooked for you, which somehow made this all even more nerve wracking - and you were trying desperately not to bounce your knee.
After what felt like forever, and simultaneously not long enough to prepare yourself, Derek had come to plop down next to you. He insisted you go sit while he did the dishes, something about being a ‘gentleman’ and ‘needing you to sit pretty.’
You were sure he’d noticed your nerves, but he had been kind enough not to say anything yet. However, once he placed a hand on your thigh in what was meant to be a comforting way, and you tensed up, he couldn’t hold it in.
“What’s up with you tonight? Did I do something wrong? You’re not vegan, are you?” He questioned, worried that maybe you hadn’t really enjoyed your dinner.
“What? No,” your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him for a mere second, before casting your gaze in front of you. “Nothing’s wrong with me, I’m just tired.”
“Trying to lie to a profiler? Babe, that’s like, the worst move you could make,” Derek chuckled slightly, turning to face you more. He was trying to make light of the situation, and you appreciated that, but your nerves didn’t seem to care.
“I’m a profiler, too.”
“So you should know you can’t hide things from me. C’mon, just spit it out,” his hand moved to brush your hair off of your shoulder before rubbing it to try and coax whatever was wrong out of you. “I promise I won’t laugh.”
You shot him a look, and he grinned. “Okay, depending on what it is, I may laugh. Just a little bit. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to tell me.”
“I just - it’s our third date.”
“Really? Thought it was our fifth.” He tried to joke, but when it didn’t seem to calm you any, he just shook his head and mumbled a small apology.
“And there’s… implications that go along with it.”
Derek tilted his head, looking at you similar to a confused dog. But when you didn’t clarify and instead only gave him a look, he understood what you meant.
“And you’re worried about that?”
“I mean, kind of. Yes. I just,” you sighed as you tried to piece your words together, cheeks flush with embarrassment about even having to have this conversation. You were an adult, but for some reason, telling your sort of boyfriend that you hadn’t had sex in a while still felt awkward. “I’m not really.. experienced, I guess. I’ve only been with a few people. And you-”
“Used to be a total manwhore?”
“I wasn’t going to say that. And I really wish Garcia hadn’t taught you that term.”
He laughed at that then, and his arm lifted off of your shoulder to trail down your arm, before he grabbed onto your hand.
“Look, I’m not expecting anything out of tonight, okay? I just wanted to spend time with you, I don’t care if I see you naked tonight. Or for a while. It doesn’t matter,” he started, and the seriousness on his face was almost odd, since you were used to his teasing grin. “If you’re not ready for it, I’m not ready for it. Just because it’s our third date doesn’t mean we’re required to have sex. And I wasn’t really thinking about that, anyway. I don’t want to do it if you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t want you to be disappointed because I’m not as good as you expected. Or what you’re used to,” You frowned, and it made him frown, almost like a mirror.
“Baby. Sweetheart. Honey. You seriously think I’m going to be disappointed? I used to wake up early every morning so I could get coffee from your favorite place just so I could have an excuse to bring you a cup and talk to you.”
“That’s forty minutes out of the way.”
“I know. I’m like, borderline obsessed with you. You should be creeped out.” When the corners of your lips turned up at that, he broke out into a grin, and leaned forward to grab your face into his hands, forcing you to look at him. “What I’m saying is, I could never be disappointed by anything you do. If we have sex, and only whenever you’re ready for it, it’s going to be great for me no matter what. ‘Cause it means that I’m with you.”
Your head leaned against the palm of his hand, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips, quick but loving.
“If you’re ever feeling stressed about these things, you need to just tell me. Don’t sulk, you shouldn’t be nervous about anything. Not with me. Got it?”
“Yeah,” you say quietly and his hands drop from his face, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you to his side, your head falling onto his shoulder.
“Great. Now - which horror movie do you wanna watch? Halloween or Scream?”
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magicbystarlight · 6 months
Text
Before I Knew You - Part Ten
Bill Weasley x Reader
Masterlist, Part One
Thank you for reading, I love seeing the comments and appreciation for this story ❤️
Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.
Word Count: 4,037
Warnings: 18+, typical canon warnings, sprinkle in some miscommunication, age gap, questionable ethics from a medical professional. Minors DNI.
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The ocean was louder than you remembered. Colder too. 
Wet sand sank under your feet with each step, waves erasing the prints you left behind. The paper that morning had read August 30th. A month since the wedding. Six weeks since the farm. A little more than two months since the Death Eaters’ attack on Hogwarts. Eight months since you'd last seen your parents. A year since you’d kissed Cillian goodbye thinking there was a future together. Somehow that seemed too short a time for everything that had happened. All that'd you'd lost.
It had been easy to compartmentalize. Push it away and focus on anything else. But the holes were there. You missed the Cillian you'd known. You missed your parents and their excited, encouraging smiles. You missed Madam Pomfrey's complete trust in you and your abilities. You missed the days when you thought you had any control of tomorrow.
Three years working the Hospital Wing, two more being its frequent volunteer. All in hopes of a job at St. Mungos. You’d gotten it. A spot in the Janus Thickey Ward working with patients with spell damaged minds. The decision to walk away from it had been easy. You were no longer safe, yes, but that wasn’t why.
You could still remember his blood on your hands. The panic in Madam Pomfrey’s usually calm movements. His eyes finally opening, blue in a sea of red, and his hand gripping your wrist. He’d mumbled something. Impossible to understand. But he was alive and there was hope. He would live. Scarred and straddled with symptoms of an unknown severity, but there had been hope he could live his life mostly as he always had. Then Fleur had fled.
All he'd gotten was a letter. All you'd given Cillian was a letter. She’d sent back a ring, you’d sent back a bracelet. Maybe not the same, but they were kindred sentiments. And it was devastating to destroy something that in another time would have been forever. 
The sand shifted as you sat. No wonder Bill hated the idea of you leaving. No wonder you had such a hard time actually wanting to leave. It was ironic how well matched you were. Poetic even. You his stand in for Fleur and he yours for Cillian. He could make you stay and you could stay. He wanted to protect people and you wanted to heal them.
But he wasn't Cillian and you weren't Fleur and this wasn't a relationship. This was two traumatized people trapped together in a war trying to keep each other alive.
High tide came while you watched the moon's reflection ripple in the water. The ocean couldn't combat the forces of the moon. How could you?
Bill sat, head in his hands, at the table when you returned to the cottage. Waiting.
"Thought you went to bed."
He looked up. Gods it wasn’t fair when he looked at you like that. Like he was relieved to see you. "Yeah, yeah I did, but I heard the door and I thought…”
He didn’t finish the thought. You had to look away. His sad eyes were for someone else. “I needed some air.” Had you looked like that when he left? Maybe the first night. Much worse the other three. "I wouldn't walk out on you." Not like he did.
"Right," was all he had to say.
Maybe you should have left.
"I'm off to bed then." You hadn't made it two steps before he pleaded for you to wait.
"Can we talk?"
It was too much. Your emotions were still raw, bleeding and blistering from the scab you’d picked away. It hurt. You were hurting. And he only cared because he thought you were going to leave. Gods, why did that make it worse? 
"I don't fucking know Bill, can we? Cause I’ve tried. But every time you leave. Or we say ‘tomorrow’. But there’s never been a tomorrow, has there?” You couldn't look at him. If you did, you'd break. "I'm exhausted with this back and forth. Trying to manage being your Healer who understands how difficult this has been for you and being your friend who doesn't understand why you won't let me help you." You could hear him move, but you kept your gaze fixed on the stairs. "I can't keep doing this, having this same conversation with you. I know it's a lot, I get it, I do, but I'm terrfied I'm going to watch you die in this fucking cottage because your ego is too fucking big to let someone take care of you." He was standing right behind you. You could step back, let his arms wrap around you.
"I had nightmares." It was a fragile confession. An admission he didn't want to give. "Every night after that first one in the Hospital Wing. They always changed, but it was mostly just Greyback and Death Eaters coming after the people I cared about. Every night. Except the night Mad-Eye died. I thought maybe it was because I lived it that night, because they came back. And then we came here and it was so…peaceful. I just slept. Until I fucked everything up and left. The only night since then that I haven't dreamed of death and blood is the night I came back."
"You should have told me."
"What was I supposed to say? Sleep with me so I don't have bad dreams?"
You spun, shoving your finger into his chest. "And there's that fucking ego, Bill." "Ego? You think this has all been about my ego?"
"I know tonight was."
He started to say something, reconsidered, and said instead, "Alright you got me there. But, but, wait, please," he grabbed your hand as you'd begun to turn away again. "Think about this from my perspective, yeah? You’ve made it abundantly clear that you would do whatever it takes to make me feel even an ounce of relief.”
“Of course I would.”
“And don’t you see the problem with that? If I’d told you in the beginning that I needed to sleep with you and needed to fuck you, you’d have done it.”
“It would've taken me a bit to come around to it," maybe not as long as you'd like to admit, "but yeah. Yeah, I would have.”
“But not because you would have wanted to.”
He was wrong, but it only made you feel worse. “Do you realize how unethical it is for me to want to fuck you, Bill? It goes against everything I’m supposed to be as your Healer. You don’t have control over what’s happening to you, how your body’s reacting, and I’m supposed to be helping you through it, not taking advantage of you.”
“Taking advantage of me? I’ve got almost ten years on you. These last few months have been hell for you and now—now you depend on me for almost everything. What I want is depraved." He still held your hand, now clutching it against his chest. "I'm supposed to keep you safe and instead all I can think about half the time is…Merlin, you don't need to know. And maybe, maybe I can't help that, but I never had to drag you into it." Like you knew you would, you broke. Reaching up, you cupped his face. His scruff scratched at your palm as he leaned into the touch. "You didn't drag me into anything."
"I did, didn't I? Bringing you here? I should've taken you somewhere else with someone else."
"I think you're forgetting if it wasn't for you and Remus, I'd be dead. And if you hadn't been so quick at the wedding, I'd either been caught by Death Eaters or Cillian." His grip tightened on your hand, eyes clenched shut. "We've made the best choices we can, Bill. The ones that've kept us alive."
"It doesn't feel like there's been any choices."
"Well we have a choice now. We can figure out another living situation for me, with someone else and hope that alleviates some of your symptoms. Let me finish," you said as he opened his mouth. "We can do that. Or we can ignore how complicated and unethical it is for me to stay and we do what we need to do for each other. What we want to do to each other. But only, only if let me take care of you."
"So you do want me?" "Bill Weasley, did you hear any other words I said?"
His hand took hold of your waist, pulling you closer. "Every one of 'em. I'll let you run any test, answer any question, poke and prod whatever you need, follow every instruction you give. Promise. Just stay with me."
"I'm not doing this again. I won't have this conversation a third—" you paused and corrected, "a fourth time. If you can't—"
"We won't." His grip tightened, forehead pressing against yours. "We'll do it your way."
"Okay. Good." He felt so warm. "Maybe we should get to bed?"
“Yeah.”
“Together, right?”
“I do need you to keep away the bad dreams,” he mused before sweeping you into his arms. His amused chuckle as you questioned how he kept picking you up so effortlessly left you feeling breathless. “You’re light as a feather, love.”
It was only a few minutes later that he was breathing evenly beneath you in the small bed upstairs, an arm draped around your waist. He wasn't Cillian. You weren't Fleur. This wasn't a relationship. For now though, this was enough. One day it wouldn't be, but you closed your eyes and slept. 
Nothing could have made you leave bed. It smelled too good, felt too warm. After weeks of terrible sleep, it was heaven. From Bill's steady breath against your hair, it seemed he wouldn't crawl out of bed anytime soon either.
Almost nothing could have made you leave bed.
Nothing but a loud pop, followed closely by another. 
You were jinxed. You had to be. It was the only explanation for a Weasley horde popping into existence so early in the morning with Bill still wrapped around you in bed. Bill's wide-eyed terror mirrored your own as the shrill voice of Molly shrieked at the familiar laughter of Fred, George, and Ginny.
"...to Diagon Alley! Alone! To think I trusted you boys with her!"
"It was a quick stop," one of the twins insisted as you both fell out of bed and scrambled down the stairs. "Needed to grab something from the shop," said the other.
"And no one even saw me!” Ginny added.
“But what if they had! Don’t you think it would have raised a very dangerous question of exactly how you’d appeared there when no one saw you leave the Burrow? Hmm? They think they're watching our every move! We cannot have them question that!”
Five heads of fiery red hair came into view of the windows causing your own to whip around the house in case anything screamed, “We had sex last night!” Bill seemed to do the same. He dove for something on the floor that you couldn’t see from the table. He managed to straighten up just before the door burst open.
Fred—you knew it was him because he had both his ears—was the first of the brood to come through with George and Ginny close on his heels. “Mornin’ Bill! Mornin’ Gorgeous!”
“Merlin, Fred! Have no manners stuck in that head of yours?” Molly gripped as she followed. She turned from her son and fixed you with a softer, apologetic look. “Sorry dear. We didn’t mean to burst in."
"Oh, we most certainly did," Fred countered as he made his way to you and threw an arm around your shoulders. George added, mirroring his twin, “We were hoping to catch you two doing something naughty.” 
"That's it! Both of you, back to the Burrow!" 
Whining shouts of protests came from the three younger Weasley siblings as you were released. “It was a joke!” “Can’t anyone have a good laugh these days?” "But it's my last day!"All you could do was hope that nothing in your face gave away the very naughty things they'd have caught you doing if they'd come by the night before.
As the argument continued, Arthur took the opportunity to break away. He approached Bill, his expression markedly more subdued than the others. He whispered something into his son's ear. Bill's gaze flitted to you—in worry? Horror? Embarrassment? Oh gods, did Arthur know? Did they all know? An uncomfortable bubbling in your stomach grew as the two disappeared into the bedroom Kingsley had occupied the day before. 
“One more toe out of line and I will send you back, do you hear me?”
Your gaze snapped back to the others. No. They didn’t know. Fred and George would certainly never let you live it down if they’d known. Molly would not be looking at you with any kindness if she thought you’d taken advantage of her son. And Ginny… you didn’t want to know what she would do. You’d seen the aftermath of her hexes.
"Now outside. The three of you."
Ginny gave you a small wave as she followed her brothers outside. Definitely didn’t know. 
"Again, very sorry dear," Molly said kindly. “It was just supposed to be Arthur popping over, but Ginny overheard and well, she heads off to Hogwarts tomorrow and she’s been wanting to come.”
“Of course, yeah—yeah. I think Bill mentioned he wanted to have everyone over. Before, you know, Kingsley and all that. Something about fighting chickens?”
“Chicken Fight. The kids do love that game.”
“Right, yeah. So, um, has something happened?” Your fingers picked at your lip as you nodded towards the bedroom. “You know, since Arthur was coming by.”
Molly hesitated before giving a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Just normal Order business. Nothing to fret about.”
When you'd gone off to the farm, you hadn't really thought about bringing along a swimsuit. Molly, the ever prepared mother, had brought along an extra one-size-fits-all swimsuit for you. So you spent hours on the sand and in the water with the Weasleys doing your best to act like everything was completely and utterly fine. 
Like you weren’t worried about what had happened between you and Bill the night before, or worried for his health, or worried about what that horrified look meant, or worried about Ginny going to Hogwarts the next day, or worried if Kingsley was alright, or worried if someone else was going to show up on the verge of death again.
You were fine.
Completely and utterly fine.
“You alright?” Fred asked as he sat next to you on one of the towels. His hair still dripped, his siblings continuing to toss around a Quaffle in the water. 
You gave your best attempt at a smile as you pulled your knees tighter against your chest. “Yeah, of course.” You'd never been good at acting.
“Really?”he asked with a raised brow and skeptical tone. "Cause I don't think I've seen you crack a smile at all today."
Resting your chin on your arm, you watched Bill get tackled and dragged down into the waves by Ginny and George. Arthur was passed out a few feet away turning a shade that would rival his hair and Molly was sitting peacefully under an umbrella reading. Bill and Arthur had come out of the room like nothing had happened. Joking, playing, teasing with their family with an uncomfortable force. They wanted everyone distracted for the day.
"Maybe not alright. I'm worried about Ginny and all the other kids going off to a castle crawling with Death Eaters," you conceded. A half-truth. It would be Madam Pomfrey's first time completely alone in the Hospital Wing after three years of your help. She didn't need you, of course, she was more than capable of doing her job before you'd even been thought into existence. But you could imagine this year would be more of a strain than any other she'd experienced.
More than the year He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hid behind the turban of Qurrial.
More than the year the Chamber of Secrets opened and petrified Muggleborns.
More than the year dementors roamed the grounds.
More than the year of the Triwizard Tournament.
More than the year Dolores Umbridge tortured kids in detention.
Even more than the last year that ended with Death Eaters storming the castle.
“We’re all worried,” he said, shielding his face from his siblings to hide his frown. “I—I tried to talk her out of going. Told her we wouldn’t mind going into hiding. But she’s stubborn.”
“Stubborn is a famous Weasley trait, isn't it?” It was meant as a joke, but it came out too dry. If there was anything you knew it was how stubborn a Weasley could be.
“Suppose it is.” He laughed softly as his sister ramed her shoulder into George's side, sending him toppling into the water. "Can you do me a favor?"
You side eyed him, knowing not to trust anything he asked of you. You'd seen plenty of people in the Hospital Wing after doing favors for him and George.
"Forget about it all for a few hours. Try to enjoy what's left of today." You looked back to the water. George and Ginny squabbled over the Quaffle. Bill was standing to the side, his face turned towards where you sat at the beach. "If not for yourself, then for Ginny."
Fred stood then, sand sticking to his trunks. Extending his hand, he smiled expectantly. "Let's go challenge Ginny and George to a chicken fight, yeah?"
Your response was automatic. "George is not cleared to have that sort of pressure on his ear."
"He's totally fine though!"
You scoffed, finally taking his hand to stand. "He is not! He has a hole where his ear should be."
"Oh, come on, love," he said, watching as you dusted sand off yourself, "can't we be a bit ear-responsible today?"
A smile fought to take hold of your lips and you had to look away from his triumphant gleam. "No George. But Bill did promise me a game."
"Oh, Ginny'll be stoked about that." He took your hand again, dragging you into the cold water. "Oy, you lot! Time for a good ole' game of chicken fight, yeah?" George cheered. "Not you though, Georgie Boy. Our little healer says you've got to sit this one out." George booed.
"She's with me," Bill said, nodding at you. 
Fred tugged you closer, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "Fat chance on that, mate!"
"Does no one want me as their partner?" Ginny pouted. She didn't seem very serious, but it was enough for Bill to concede. It wasn't enough, however, to keep him from warning his brother that one inappropriate joke would end up with him sent back to the Burrow. Fred's promise of good behavior did little to soften the eldest's irritation.
He was jealous.
Ridiculously jealous.
Ginny suffered for it. What should have been an easy win for her, turned into a struggle with Bill constantly losing balance in the waves sending them both crashing down with the slightest push. Ginny still managed to bring you down a few times, but Fred was steady on his feet. It was Ginny, pushing hair and water out of her face as she stood back up again, who suggested a partner change. 
Fred was reluctant to let you go. Didn't the two of you make an excellent team, after all? But you worried Bill might snap, the blue in his eyes barely visible with how wide his pupils had grown.
"It's just a game," you reminded him lowly before he knelt down in shallow water to let you climb on. He gave no response beyond a content hum when your thighs pressed against his face. This time it was Bill who suffered. More so than Ginny had. How, exactly, were you supposed to focus on a game when his hands were on you?
Fred took the wins with all the modesty of a Gryffindor. His boasting you could handle, but his attention focusing on you, trying to flirt like he always would was detrimental to Bill’s health. And his.
It was Molly’s fretting over George getting sand in his ear that gave a perfect excuse to ease the tension. Physicals. Everyone needed one. See how George's ear had been healing, check no one had come under the Imperius Curse. It’s what you were supposed to do in the morning with Bill, anyways. One by one you examined the Weasley's in the room you'd occupied upstairs. Molly was the first, voicing her concerns over each of the others. Arthur came next. He was silent, only answering questions asked. Then it was Ginny. She cried. She'd tried not to, but she was sixteen and the world had fallen apart around her. A small drop of Essence of Dittany cleared up the redness in her eyes before she returned to her family. Fred and George were together, amusing themselves with their banter.
And last was Bill. The door hadn't been shut more than a second before you were pressed against it. 
"It's all in my head." His kiss was soft, but desperate. "It's all in my head," he repeated against your lips. Your fingers brushed a strand of his hair back into place. "It's just Fred being Fred. He doesn't know."
"Maybe we should tell him."
You chuckled, but he didn't. "Bill."
His response was to trail kisses along your jaw.
"Bill," you said firmer, pushing lightly against his chest. "We're not telling him. Or anyone."
"Why not?"
"Because how do we explain…this?"
"We don't have to explain. We tell them we're together and that's all."
Your heart clenched. It was one thing for you to know that you were filling the voids left by the war, but for the world to see that? No one would believe you were together for anything beyond convenience and desperation. It would be easier to explain the truth. "I'm not going to lie to everyone about what this is."
He pulled back, turning away and running a hand through his hair. "Right." He plopped on the bed. "You're right. You're not going to lie to anyone that we're together when we're not. I'll keep my emotions in check."
"It's not like we're going to have people here often. We'll be alone again in a few hours."
He nodded, blinking up at you in a neutral expression. "You're right. We should get on with the physical. It's part of the deal for you staying, isn't it?"
“Fine.” You went through the motions, checking him over. He was fine, a little better than normal even. His heart rate was accelerated, but considering his day that wasn’t much of a surprise. His mood has somewhat recovered before you returned to his family, thanking you with a searing kiss.
An extra chair had been transfigured from some old driftwood to add a seventh seat at the table for dinner. Fred and George had tried to take the side with three chairs, hoping to trap someone between them. But Molly was far too used to their antics and sent them to the other side to sit by themselves. Ginny was a buffer between you and Bill, his father beside him and Molly next to you at the ends. Ginny kept you talking throughout most of the meal Molly had made, asking as discreetly as she could about healing spells. 
“It was so nice to come here today,” Molly said, dabbing a napkin under her eyes. “I’m so glad you suggested it, Ginny.”
“It was lucky dad needed to come today.”
George asked, mouth full. “Why did you need to come today?” Fred, needing to be part of the conversation too, asked, “Yeah, what’d ya have to tell Bill?”
You were going to let it be a family squabble, but Arthur made the mistake of looking at you and averting his gaze too quickly. “Bill?”
“I don’t think now is the appropriate time to discuss it,” Arthur said.
Bill disagreed. “Cillian went to his office. Asking questions about you.”
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Too Good
Imagine
Mat Barzal x Latina!Reader
Synop: y/n finds herself in a slum and pushes her boyfriend away because of said slum.
cw: angst + fluff, depression, insecurities, comparisons, overthinking, cussing, mat picks up reader bridal style
+
It hit you like a wave of doubt on any other day. You were on your lunch break, grabbing a cup of coffee and you noticed these group of girls who looked like models. They were outstandingly beautiful. Their hair and makeup, even the way they stood, everything about them looked perfect.
When you got home and looked at yourself in the mirror, you noticed your hair was messy and your makeup worn out. You couldn’t help to think back to those girls and compare what you saw in the mirror.
You quickly fixed your hair and took off your makeup and started to feel and look better but the shocking image in your mind still ate at you. You tried as hard as you could to not compare yourself to others because it was pointless but for some reason today it totally slipped by you.
You spent the rest of your afternoon on the couch rotting as you watched your favorite show. Your phone started ringing and Mat was calling
“Hey beautiful”
You tried not to laugh at the irony
“Hi”
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing just watching my show.”
“Ok so you don’t mind me coming over with pizza from our favorite place?”
“Of course I don’t.” You rolled your eyes at his obvious offer.
“Great, I’ll be there in 5!” You knew Mat lived farther than 5 minutes away and the pizza place would take longer
“You’re already on your way with the pizza aren’t you?”
“I didn’t think my girlfriend would pass up on this amazing offer so I planned ahead.”
“I guess you’re right, drive safe!”
“Will do”
+
You left your front door unlocked for Mat to come in with ease as you got plates ready for the meal.
“Honey I’m home!” Mat yelled obnoxiously
He found you by the living room and before he could set the pizza box down he cups your face and gives you a smooch before hugging you.
“I’ve missed you so much.” He said into your neck
“We saw each other two days ago.” You muffled into his shoulder
He pulls away and sets the box down, “I know but I need to see you every so often to function properly.” He said very dramatically as he placed slices on both plates.
“Uh huh, I’m sure that’s true.”
“Oh it’s very true.” He hands you your plate and both of you walk to the couch to find your seats
“Should we watch a show or movie?” He asked
“Movie.”
+
At the near end of the uninteresting movie, Mat and you and cuddled on the couch barely falling asleep before he speaks up,
“I have a surprise for you”
“What’s the surprise?” You ask as he holds you from behind
“It’s not really a surprise but what do you think of moving in with me?” He says so calmly with a smile on his face that you couldn’t see
You felt your heart stop for a quick second and your whole body freeze. You shift in your lying position before sitting up, out of his grasp,
“You want me to move in?”
He had a nervous smile on his face now, “ I mean yeah. I’m always at yours or you’re always at mine so why not?”
You kept silent and observed his face fall from a bright smile to a regretful one.
“You don’t have to say yes now. It takes time to move.” Mat tried to soften the surprise but he was starting to rethink of asking you at all.
“I’m sorry if asking you is too soon and if you’re not ready.” Mat said after you still kept silent
“No no, I want to live with you matty it’s just you caught me by surprise.” You tried to reason but it didn’t sound too convincing
“Are you sure? I could understand if you want to say no, for whatever reason. I just think it would be nice to wake up next to you every morning.” He cradled your face with his hand
“I want to. Trust me. Just give me some time.” Truth is you really did want to share a home with Matty but your conscience couldn’t understand why he would.
+ +
The next few days you found yourself deeper in this pit, from what you called it. A slump. Since Mat offered you moving in, it had left you conflicted.
You knew he loved you and cared for you but some sick part of you didn’t want to believe it. He called and texted when he could but when he wanted to meet up you made an excuse not to. You felt stuck in between believing Mat and believing what your mind was telling you.
As much as you tried to push away those thoughts, they still haunted you in your sleep. You dreamt that Matt was leaving you for someone else and woke up crying that morning.
Of course it didn’t take long for Mat to notice your absence. So he called the morning of that nightmare.
“Hey babe, I’m free after practice today. I want to see you. I haven’t seen you in almost a week.”
As much as you missed his presence, you felt awkward being physically with him.
“Sorry Mat, I’ve been just so busy with work lately. I’m going to have a long day today too.” You weren’t a very good liar and Mat could tell something was off.
“Baby why are you lying?” He asked without any malice but just pure concern.
Your heart stopped again and you could feel a lump in your throat starting to form.
“I’m not.” You choked out
“Is it because I asked you to move in? It’s really fine if you don’t want to, I’m not going to force you to move in with me. I don’t mind driving over to your place.”
You tried stopping your tears from falling and let out a trembly breath over the phone, unfortunately Matt heard it
“Baby you’re scaring me, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s just- I need some time to think- time alone.” Your voice clearly wavered
“How long do you need?” His voice sounded flat this time
“I don’t know Mat. Just give me a few days. I’ll call or text when I’m ready.” You were face palming yourself in your empty apartment
“Okay, I love you.” Mat’s face on the other side of the phone call was confused and hurt. Although both of you knew he would respect your wishes,
“I love you too Mat.” You ended the call quickly and found yourself with no plan on how to better yourself.
++
Two days had passed and still no plan. If anything you tried your best on was to avoid people, especially Mat. You tried to get a home cook meal in after work even if it was just a quesadilla.
Then loud knocks were heard from your door.
“Y/n, I know you said to wait but we need to talk.” It was Mat yelling across your door and you felt your stomach drop.
You walked to your front door and peeked at Mat through the peep hole. Truth be told he didn’t look good either.
“Fuck” you whispered to yourself as you froze to open to the door.
“Please open the door” Mat yelled again for you to hear.
You reluctantly opened the door to let him in. You could only look at him in the eyes for a second before walking away.
“Can we talk?” He closed the door and slowly followed you into your living room
“Sure” you had no idea what to say. Every possible negative thought was running through your head.
“First, I’m sorry that I came here even though you wanted me to wait. I was worried about you and us to be honest. Second, why are you distancing yourself?” His voice had gotten closer to you but you still weren’t looking at him.
“It’s not about moving in.” You tried you best getting a sentence or even a word out before crying.
“Then what’s the problem?” You felt his hand touch your arm but you pulled away.
You really couldn’t help but chuckle in exhaustion. You knew if you told Mat all your insecurities and how they form the chances of him leaving were high.
“I’m not alright, clearly.” You started to tear up, “Um I don’t know how to say this, but sometimes I think very bad about myself and I start to believe it. And when I do, I start to distance myself from the people I love because if they knew how I saw myself they would think the same.” You started to sob through your confession, still avoiding his eyes in case you were right.
He tried to touch you again and you couldn’t help but to find comfort in his embrace.
“When do you feel this way?” He whispered into your hair
“Sometimes it comes at random. These past days it’s because I was comparing myself to these girls. It’s ridiculous honestly.” You tried to pull away, starting to become embarrassed in your vulnerability.
“It’s not ridiculous. I mean this whole situation isn’t ridiculous.” He sighed and you started to think he didn’t know what to say, you wouldn’t have known either.
“Besides you not wanting to tell me all of this because you thought I would see you that way, which I would never.” He spoke slowly, “I wished you knew you could trust me with anything.”
“I do trust you, it’s just I don’t trust myself to let you see the whole real me.” You leaned your head on his chest in embarrassment.
“I think I’m seeing all of it now and I still love you if that’s what your worried about.” He lifted your head up so you could look at him.
“Why?”
“Because when I first met you I knew you were the one, as cheesy as it sounds.” You saw him smile in the first time in a while, “I knew you were the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, through the good and bad.”
“You’re too good, Mathew Barzal.” You started to tear up again but from happiness.
“You might have to remind me every once in awhile though.” You gave him a sad smile
“I don’t think I’ll mind.” He caressed your face and leaned in for one of many shared kisses.
+++
2 months later
“I think that was the last box- Matthew put me down!” Matt caught you by surprise by carrying you bridal style into your shared apartment.
“Give me a sec, I’m trying to be romantic here.” He kicked the door open with his foot and stepped into the living room you have seen plenty of times.
“We’re not married silly.”
“Not yet anyway, but very soon.” He still had his ways to make you flustered.
“I believe a proposal comes first then marriage.” He had set you down both standing now.
He started to get on one knee but you knew better, “oh please, get up” both of you laughed as he stood up to meet you eye level,
“You know I would never propose to you like that, you deserve something more romantic.” He pulled you in by the waist
“You’re right. Propose to me in a private but romantic area, not a public proposal.” You whispered up to him
“Anything you want, I’ll give.” He whispered back.
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elliesflower · 1 year
Text
i saw you in a dream [7]
Tumblr media
summary; it's winter break and that guitar has got to go.
chapter; 7/10 2.3k words
cw (per chapter); language, angst, TW: CAT >:(
an; hellaaaaurrrrrr i don't have much to say except ur all amazing and wonderful and thank u so much for loving this story so hard. i love u all more than words. (also sorry not much ellie in this chapter, next chap will be longer and most likely have smut teehee) ((also this isn't proof read so sorry if there's weird mistakes i'll go back nd fix later ok love u bye!!))
Your last interaction with Ellie had you feeling pretty defeated. You had thought that maybe you were getting somewhere—but now, with Cat in the picture, you were ready to give up.
“I’ll fucking kill her,” Dina threatened when you explained the whole story. You shook your head, laughing. “Seriously, she has no right to fuck with your emotions like that.”
“Dee, it’s fine. I wouldn’t call it ‘fucking with me,’ either. Relationships can be messy and break ups are even messier. You of all people should know that.”
“Don’t you fucking dare even mention that disgusting, vile creature,” she pretended to gag at the thought of her ex. All the verbal abuse she had to endure, you’re amazed she lasted so long with them in the first place. “But seriously. You guys had a vibe. That was fucked up of her to not even mention it. It obviously seemed like she was intentionally keeping it from you.”
You pursed your lips, looking down at your hands as you picked at your cuticles. 
“I don’t know…” you trailed off, shrugging your shoulders. You wanted to believe that Ellie wouldn’t do that to you. Realistically, you understood you barely knew her—the two of you had spent less than a full day together. Maybe it was silly to think she was letting you see her heart.
“No, no, don’t do that,” Dina pointed a finger at you accusingly. “Don’t do that hopeless romantic shit you always do. I’m telling you how it is.” 
“Okay, and maybe it is,” you agreed. “But—”
“Hello?! No ‘but’s!’ You need to forget about her. You don’t want to get tangled up in that mess, trust me,” she was speaking from experience, and you knew this. You wanted to believe Dina was right. Who would want to be caught up in lesbian ex-girlfriend drama? And yes, the lesbian part makes a difference. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline of a new crush—the yearning to be in a relationship, so strong you feel like you’d do anything, anything to be with that person, no matter what they’ve done, no matter what they say. Lust can be dangerous.
“Okay, okay,” you gave in. “I’ll leave it alone.”
Dina squinted at you curiously. She probably didn’t believe you, but it didn’t matter. You knew she had your back, always. She’d never do something you weren’t okay with, and she’d forgive you if you did go crawling back to Ellie. Which was still very much…up in the air. 
“That’s what I thought,” she said with a smirk, but it wasn’t very definitive.  
The next few days were…weird, to say the least. With Christmas quickly approaching, the amount of people on campus slowly thinned out—Dina included. She was heading east to be with her family for the holidays, which left you alone in your dorm for a few days. You spent most of the time aimlessly scrolling on your phone, confirming next term’s classes, and making last-minute holiday plans with your own family. It was all very…mundane. 
Which is a weird feeling; your outside life being so normal, while your brain was scrambling trying to make sense of your feelings about the whole Ellie situation. It had been over a week, and she hadn’t texted. Neither had you, but you weren���t sure what was left to say. You wanted to side with Dina, leave Ellie in the past and let Cat have her. 
But the other part of you—the hopeless, yearning sapphic—wanted to reach out. Every time you saw a short-haired redhead from the back, your heart rate increased. It was a little pathetic, if you were being honest, the way your heart fell when they’d turn around and it was not in fact Ellie coming to reconcile. It made you want to call her; want to see her; want to see if the two of you could really become something, after all; want to know what else spilled from her lips when she was high, and anything else she’d give you. 
It sure didn’t help that everytime you walked into your dorm you were stared down by the guitar you were really regretting buying instead of renting. Now that you didn’t have a….teacher, anymore, you were sure it’d just start collecting dust over there in the corner. 
“Fuck it,” you mumbled to yourself one day after you’d been staring at the case for far too long, deciding you were going to take it down to the student store and see what they’d offer you for it. 
The weather was bitterly cold, but it surprisingly wasn’t raining. You zipped your coat up all the way to your chin, readjusting the guitar strap over your shoulder as you walked across campus to the store. Today was the last day it’d be open before they closed for the holidays, so naturally the store was eerily empty, aside from the two students working behind the counter. 
You let your fingers trail across a few cute embroidered journals on your way up to the counter, where a very unenthusiastic student turned to greet you. 
“What can I help you with?” They asked flatly, resting their elbows on the wooden counter that separated the two of you. 
“Uh, I was hoping to see how much y’all would give me for this guitar,” you explained, hoisting the case up to the counter and unlocking it. Upon flipping the top, the worker gave out a low whistle of appreciation. 
“Has it ever even been used? It’s in perfect condition,” they said, grabbing the neck to pull it out and examine it. 
“Uh, just a handful of times…I took the class for one semester,” you explained, one hand subconsciously rising to rub the back of your neck sheepishly. 
“And you didn’t just rent one?” 
Okay, well damn. 
“Wasn’t thinking, I guess…” There’s nothing like a stranger confirming what you already knew to make you feel even worse about your initial purchase. They gave you an amused smile before leaning the guitar against the back of the counter.
“Give me a minute to run some numbers,” and luckily, they didn’t mention your stupid purchase again, and retreated to a computer. You leaned over the counter as well, pulling out your phone to mindlessly scroll. The electronic door chime sounded from behind you and the other employee shouted a greeting across the store. You didn’t pay it any attention until you heard a very distinct voice respond.
“Oh my gosh, it is freezing out there!” 
Your whole body tensed, your grip on your phone becoming tighter as she started to chatter away—of course her striking presence had the other employee out of their seat, smile plastered across their face as they made their way over to continue chatting with…her. 
Of fucking course. 
The whole point of coming here was to get this little part of Ellie out of your room—and now, an arguably bigger part of Ellie just came waltzing through the doors. You made it a point to keep looking at your phone, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of your attention. Even though she definitely had it, how could she not? Her voice was sickeningly sweet, even though it somehow made you feel sour, resonating over the quiet music playing in the store.  
“Elliott, you are such a riot!” She laughed from behind you. Her vernacular was straight out of a sixties romance movie, and you wondered briefly if that just added to her charm. You’d known girls like her—you know the ones who have to swear up and down that they’re not like other girls, when in reality, they are like clones roaming the earth. They all have the same cadence, the same attitude, the same god complex. Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to be so blissfully ignorant. 
“Alright,” the clerk said after another grating minute of you trying to remain undetected. “This is the best I can do for you.” They at least had the decency to look apologetic as they slid you a scribbled note. You blinked down at the number. 
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled. The offer was less than half of what you originally paid for it. Not that you were expecting a miracle, but this was a little insulting. “You said it was in perfect condition…”
“I know,” they agreed, putting up their hands defensively. “There’s only so much I can do. I have to go by the school’s policies.” 
You frowned at the note for a moment, wishing nothing more than to go back in time and never sign up for that stupid guitar class. Or even if you did, you wished you’d never seen that stupid flier on that stupid tree on this stupid campus—maybe then you wouldn’t be stuck with your heart in your throat, choked up listening to Ellie’s ex-girlfriend slash roommate filling up the room with her stupidly charming personality. 
Wait a second, did she leave? Her voice disappeared, and the second clerk was returning back behind the desk. Maybe you should—
“Oh, c’mon,” she was peering over your shoulder in an instant, invading your space and making you flinch. Her floral perfume overwhelmed your nose, her black and silver bracelets tinkling as she examined the note on the counter. “We can do better than that, no?” Her arm was pressing your bicep, she was so close to you, you could hear her breathing and see her perfectly styled hair framing her sharp cheekbones. You were so taken aback by her boldness, by her invasiveness, you found yourself nodding.
She looked over at you, and her teeth were like pearls, shiny and probably not real. You just blinked at her, acutely aware that your expression was most likely not very kind. 
“Look, Cat,” the clerk started, and of course they knew her name. “You know I have to follow university protocols for these kinds of things.”
“C’mon, Dakota,” and yeah, of course she knew their name too. “There’s nothing you can do? For old times sake?” She leaned onto her elbows, resting her chin in her hands with a dopey look on her face. Good god, is this a joke? If so, it wasn’t very funny, because Dakota was now suppressing a grin, grabbing the paper off the counter before glancing at you briefly. 
“Let me see what I can do,” they smiled, returning to the computer. You wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Not that it would make much of a difference, anyways. You were pretty much invisible until Cat showed up anyways. 
“Well, that’s more like it!” Cat grinned, crossing her arms and leaning a hip against the counter, facing you. “Nice to see you again, by the way.” An afterthought. 
You forced a smile back, your deeply embedded people-pleasing outweighing your disdain. 
“Cat,” you went straight for the formalities. You wanted to get out of here as quickly as humanly possible. “Likewise.”
“You left so quickly last week I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye!” She exclaimed, reaching out to grab your shoulder. It was like she was from another planet. “Ellie’s been talking about you.” You really hoped her otherworldliness didn’t give her the power of supersonic hearing, because she may have heard your heart fall into your stomach at the mention of Ellie’s name. But perhaps, she still did anyway, because she was cocking her head ever so slightly, crossing her arms over her chest again. 
“Oh, yeah I wasn’t…feeling great,” and it wasn’t a complete lie. You’re amazed you didn’t throw up all over the both of them the minute Cat got all handsy with Ellie. Cat still looked at you sideways, like she was waiting for you to respond to her comment about Ellie. No way she was talking about you with Cat. It had to be a ruse. You chewed at your bottom lip nervously, averting your gaze to fidget with your hands rather than be trapped. But she wasn’t giving up.
“Well, she’s been going on and on about how she was so happy she could help you pass your final,” she said, and half of her words were punctuated with a hand gesture. Your heart wa thrumming in your ears.  “She said you were a quick learner and so eager to play guitar. I just didn’t take you for a quitter, the way she talks about you!” 
Talks. Present tense. Fuck, she was good at this. 
“A quitter?” 
“Well, you’re pawning off your guitar,” she said matter-of-factly. You furrowed your brow, but quickly let it smooth out. 
“I never planned to play guitar long-term. Ellie knew that.” Or at least you thought she did. Cat was making it really fucking hard to tell what was real or not. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second, before she was standing up straighter and shaking a few jet-black tendrils of hair from her face. 
“Well, then,” and she was no longer holding back. Her eyes very blatantly scanned you, up and down before she continued. “Let’s see what we can get you for this guitar then, yeah?” 
And as if on cue, Dakota returned to the counter. They walked straight to Cat as if you had never existed in the first place. 
“Alright, how’s this?” He slid the note over, and the number was significantly higher. You felt like a second class citizen. You were fuming—not that they would notice as they looked into each other’s eyes like they were Romeo and Juliet or something. How is it that Cat can weasel her way into everything that’s yours? 
Hah. As if Ellie was ever yours.
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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year
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Ghost!Robin Part 8
Look at you lucky ducks! Two WIP Wednesday excerpts today! I'm afraid you won't be able to get used to it. Going forward I may update each fic on alternating weeks. I have a busy few months coming up if everything goes to plan and could use the buffer in case I can't get much writing done. We'll see, though.
I'm going to start leaving a fic summary at the beginning of every excerpt in case people find this in the wild and want to know what they're getting into.
Summary: Danny is finally going to meet Jazz's boyfriend Jason. At Jason's family's mansion. He spent weeks making sure he could have an evening off of any Ghost King business. But when he meets Jason on the steps of the mansion, he can barely pay attention to the guy because his focus is on the ghost of the dead Robin hanging off his shoulders. Who is very happy to find someone who can actually see him.
Word Count: 1.4k
First, Previous
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“Right. Um… Well, I do just kinda do whatever is necessary or find someone who can. Because, um, well, I’m… kinda the High King of the Infinite Realms? There’s a bunch more titles after that but I refuse to memorize them because ugh.”
Danny looked down at his plate, not wanting to see everyone’s reactions. Jazz must’ve made sure he got a piece of pie because it sat in front of him. It looked so good. Did they even know about the Infinite Realms? Justice League Dark members did, but did Batman? Jazz reached over and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Tim and Barbara’s typing seemed to get faster. And then a pair of pixie boots and legs settled on the table next to his plate. He looked up and met Robin’s eyes.
Robin reached out an poked Danny on the nose. He gave a little trill of safe, friends drawing a smile out of Danny.
At the same time, Duke exclaimed, “That’s why you have a crown!”
And Steph said, “Okay, I may be out of the loop, but what the hell are the Infinite Realms?”
Damian snorted. “Aren’t you too young to be a king of anything?”
Danny half stood. “Look, do you want to go spar or something? Is that why you keep picking fights? Because we can do that. Fighting is good for young liminals. But I really don’t think this is the time or place.”
Jazz groaned and dragged him back into his seat. “Stop it, Danny. You’re on Earth right now.” Speaking over Danny’s protests, she explained to Damian, “We wish. Managed to get them to delay until he turned eighteen at least, but his grandfather wouldn’t let us wait any longer than that.”
Danny let the fight drop, but he did notice how Damian’s grip on his spoon tightened. Looked like they would be having that spar tonight if Damian had anything to say about it. Still, Jazz was right and he had to follow human customs on Earth so he bumped his sister’s shoulder and spoke to her instead. “You know as well as I do that he would’ve if it was possible. But thanks to Pariah, there are things that haven’t been done in a thousand years and it’s been causing so many problems.”
“Steph,” said Barbara. “The Infinite Realms are the spaces between universes according to Constantine. His documentation states that the Realm’s inhabitants are all incredibly overpowered and should not be approached under any circumstances. Just one being can evade all methods of capture with standard supplies.”
Jazz nodded. “And our parents dedicated their lives to building a portal to the Infinite Realms, or the Ghost Zone as they call it, and destroying all ghosts.”
“By ‘ghosts,’” asked Bruce, “Do you mean beings from these Infinite Realms?”
Jazz nodded. “Yes. Most beings from the Infinite Realms come into being when a living creature dies in a traumatic way, with a lot of emotion, or near a large source of ectoplasm. Usually some combination of all three.”
Both Tim and Bruce tried to ask further questions, but Jason’s voice cut in over theirs. “Jazz, when you say your parents wanted to ‘destroy all ghosts,’ did they stop after Danny’s accident?” Jason’s question did, at least, cause silence to fall as everyone stared at the two siblings.
Jazz looked down and gripped the tablecloth tightly, jaw clenched. Now it was Danny’s turn to lay a comforting hand over hers.
“No,” Danny said. “They didn’t. They didn’t know what happened for several years and when they found out… Well, there’s a reason I can’t use their last name and Jazz won’t call them ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’ anymore. But”—Danny clapped his hands—“this is a great segway into what is actually important. Does the Justice League know about the Guys in White? More formally known as the Ghost Investigation Ward? Or even just GIW?”
“That name is unfamiliar to me,” said Bruce.
Tim agreed. “Babs and I aren’t seeing anything in the JL databases.”
Even Robin just shrugged.
Danny didn’t expect the jolt of pain that sent through his chest and Jazz turned their hands around until they were gripping each other’s hands with more force than any baseline human would’ve been able to.
“I told you, Danny. They didn’t know. They didn’t know.” Her eyes were wet, but she forced a shaky smile. “You could’ve had help.”
Danny just shook his head. “Even if I had believed they didn’t know… Without meeting them, without knowing how many of their own were in danger, I would’ve never trusted them. Too many people rely on me for me to risk it.”
“Care to enlighten the rest of us?” asked Dick. His posture was relaxed, but his voice had an edge that hadn’t been there earlier.
Robin nodded from where he sat staring at Danny. He sent out a questioning Danger? pulse at Danny.
“Yeah, danger,” agreed Danny. “Barbara, Tim, if I give you a law code number, can you pull up the law I’m referring to?”
“Of course,” agreed Barbara. “Just a moment… And shoot.”
Danny gave them the code for the Anti-Ecto Acts. “The Guys in White are the government agency responsible for enforcing the Anti-Ecto Acts which classify all ‘ectoplasmic entities’”—he made the air quotes—“as non-sentient and non-sapient and excludes us from the metahuman protection acts.”
“What the fuck!” shouted Duke.
Next to Danny, Dick suddenly was sitting up tense. “That’s impossible.”
“The league would’ve noticed such an act being passed,” said Damian, though he didn’t look as sure as his words would seem.
Cass merely tilted her head and looked at him while Steph choked on her drink.
Bruce looked to Tim and Barbara. “Is this true?” he asked them.
Robin pointed to himself and mouthed the word ‘Me?’ at Danny.
“I’m afraid so. And Bruce, Cass, Steph, and Damian as well.”
Dick’s spluttering got louder. “How are they all in danger?” he demanded to know.
Before Danny could reply, Tim was speaking. “It’s all true. And far worse than Danny implied. Not only are ecto-entities not protected by the metahuman protection laws, but they are to be actively hunted and turned over to the GIW for experimentation and extermination and anyone who assists them is declared guilty of treason.”
“When did they pass?” asked Bruce.
“Four years ago,” said Barbara. “While Luthor was president. They were hidden in some laws about green energy.”
“Ghost are made of ectoplasm,” explained Jazz. “Ectoplasm is a fantastic energy source.”
“It happened a few months after I defeated the previous king but before my coronation,” added Danny.
“Why do you think myself, Damian, Cass, Stephanie, and Jason will be targeted by this Ghost Investigation Ward?”
“It’ll be easier to show you.” Danny reached down and pulled up his bag. The thing was made in Pandora’s realm and was bigger on the inside. Once open, it took him a moment to find what he was looking for. He could see Robin signing to the group next to him. “Here we are,” Danny said as he pulled out three devices. “These are all different ectoplasm detection devices. One is my own design, one is the Guys in White’s design, and one is my parent’s design. I’ll show you mine first because it’s the best.”
“Might be a dumb question,” started Dick, “but what the hell is ectoplasm?”
“So you know how all the elements in this universe came about from nuclear fusion of hydrogen in the cores of stars?” asked Danny. When most everyone nodded, he continued, “In the Infinite Realms, that base element is ectoplasm. But there’s no need for a star to transform it into anything else. It will mold to the shape any consciousness that interacts with it wants. When sentient creatures slip through, either by a portal or through death or any other means, they shape the part of the Realm they’re in to their will. The stronger the ghost, the larger the area they control.” Holding out his hands, Danny called forth a ball of ectoplasm, shaping it into a glowing-green ice duck. “Something like this,” he commented grinning around the table.
Only to be met with horrified looks as most of the table were staring at his hands with distrust. Damian had his knife out again. Jason, his gun with the other arm held protectively in front of Jazz. Bruce was standing and Cass tense.
“What’s wrong?” asked Danny. “It’s just an ice duck sculpture. Completely harmless.”
Jason’s voice was low and threatening. “It’s an ice duck made of Lazarus water.”
More alarming than his voice was the way his eyes glowed ecto-green and the fear-anger that filled the room.
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Next
Challenge: Stay on one topic for more than two sentences.
Outcome: Failed.
They keep getting side tracked with more questions. And Danny still hasn't had a bite of his pie. This evening will never be over.
Tag List Part 1
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Looks like 50 is the limit for active user tags in a post. Good to know
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footballffbarbiex · 2 months
Text
A little smutty something with Virg as promised, even if it's 24 hours later than I'd hoped!
warnings: breeding talk, threat of hitting it raw (but use protection of some kind peeps irl), dirty talk
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In your humble opinion, there were few things sexier than a last minute winning goal. Admittedly, getting there is often pull-your-hair-out stressful and leaves you becoming infuriated as the match goes on but that high? That rush? There's nothing like it, especially if it's a goal that happens just before the last few seconds of the game.
Of course, it's not always welcomed when it's the opposition which do this. The temptation to riot is there and you feel like waiting for the ref outside and bringing the fight to him, but tonight - despite the frustrations and interesting refereeing decisions made - you don't have time to pick fights.
You'd watched as Virgil had celebrated, was interviewed, celebrated some more and lifted the trophy whilst being sprayed with champagne. They'd celebrated with the fans before heading back inside. His - and the team's - joy was contagious if you were a Red and it was clear to see how much this win meant to them. While they took the bus home, you'd travelled back from London on the train with some of the other WAGs, you'd spent enough hours cooped up on a coach to know that it wasn't worth the journey back via that method of transportation.
He's in too much of a good mood, no doubt spurred on by a little happy liquid, by the time he finally stepped from the bus making it so that you'd slipped behind the wheel of the car and set off back home. He flips between sitting back with a big stupid ass grin on his face and talking to you, but at all times, his hand rests upon the top of your thigh, fingertips moving ever so carefully without his finger itself moving. Every so often, he'd drag his hand further up, fingers stroking over your clothed inner thigh before moving back to where they'd originally started.
By the time you pull onto the driveway, your nerves are shot to shit and your underwear is no longer dry from the expectation and this brought on a whole new meaning to you of what edging was.
The key is barely in the lock when Virgil is behind you, hands pulling at your hips, forcing you backwards and holding you against his swelling cock. There's a slight shift as he bends to kiss your neck and instinctively, you tilt your head to give him better access.
"We're not even inside yet," you tell him, feeling your eyelids growing heavy with each blink becoming harder to open them as his fingers begin to undress you right here on the doorstep. It slips beneath the waistband of your underwear, pushes over your pubic bone and parts your folds. Your hand is fumbling, key struggling to turn as your concentration begins to focus on something else.
"Then open the door," his hand covers yours, turning it and pushing the door open within seconds with such ease, you should feel ashamed from the way your arousal has clouded everything else but you're having a hard time caring about anything but getting some part of this man within one of your holes.
"S-s-sorry," you stammer, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he kicks the door closed and keeps the hand that cups your pussy pressed firmly against you.
"You should be. Making me wait longer to fuck you." He reprimands, pushing you against the nearest wall and standing as close to you as possible so that he can stare down at you, reminding you in one way or another just how small you are compared to him. Realisation of this has your cunt tightening.
"I think you'll find the bus arrived half an hour after I did. It's you that made me wait." You try to make a joke to follow it but one long finger strokes over your soaked hole and teases the entrance with his fingertip, making your eyes close and you buck your hips, almost fucking his singular finger. "Fuuuuck Virg," the words come out as a hiss followed by a pathetic moan.
"Yes baby?"
Your mouth opens to speak but he slips his finger in further while his palm rubs against your clit in such a way you almost see stars from finally feeling some kind of contact after what felt like eternity. Everything about this, considering how eager and impatient he claims to have been leading up to this, is slow and drawn out. His finger works you until each time he pulls his finger back, you can feel your wetness drip from you. He adds a second, the pace now picking up and you're able to hear the lewd sounds of every thrust of them.
"I don't hear what you have to say," he speaks so calmly, it's hard to imagine that he's doing what he's doing.
"Need you." You manage to pant.
"But you're having me." his tone is almost mocking but you don't care.
"no. I need you."
"Use your words baby." he coos at you. "What do you want?"
"Your cock." you circle your hips and whine when both fingers are full within you at your request.
"Where do you want my cock?"
"In me."
"Be more specific."
"In my pussy."
"Yeah? Want me to go upstairs and get a condom?" He asks, eyes searching your face but you can't focus on him right now. Every thought and action your body is capable of doing in this moment is trying to keep you upright and not have your knees giving in.
"No." You say the singular word with such determination it brings a chuckle from him.
"Oh, it's not like you to want me to fuck you raw. What's wrong? Need me to breed you huh?" He doesn't need a reply, your walls clamp around his fingers in such a way, you're almost pushing him back out again with the tightness. "I think you like the sound of that. Me fucking you, barely pulling out so that you have every inch of me inside of you, fucking you until I'm done with you and filling you up. Look at the way you're fucking my fingers baby," he says as he adds a third too easily. "You're taking these too well, it's like you're desperate for my cock. Is that what you want?"
"Mmmmm."
"Then tell me. Tell me you want me to breed you."
"I need it Virg, need you to breed me."
"All you had to do was ask."
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watchingovergvff · 1 year
Text
Kill You To Try- Jake Kiszka
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Summary: Will you and Jake ever be able to see eye to eye? Being pining idiots and hating each others guts don’t mix. Let’s find out the hard way then.
Genre: Childhood best friends- enemies- lovers. Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: Jake is an asshole. Jealousy and Drinking.
A/N: This is my second favorite thing i’ve ever written. I apologize for my lack of Jake fics, considering I stay in Jake lane 24/7. I’ve been working on this for a couple of weeks and it’s not perfect by any means. I love to hear feedback so please let me know or if you want a part two to this also!! Thank you for all your patience and support<3333
_______________________________________________
Jake has never been jealous of Josh’s relationship with you, well that was until he saw the two of you dancing. Something about the way Josh’s hands caressed the small of your back, made his chest ache in resentment.
That’s where his dislike for you starts. Well, maybe not dislike but irritation at least.
Jake has known you since the 5th grade. You used to run around the playground, picking flowers for each and every one of your classmates. Jake had fallen and scratched up his knee, sniffles sounding out. Feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, he turns around to find you smiling down at him.
“Are you okay?” you peer down at him.
“My knee hurts.”
Handing him the prettiest flower out of your bouquet, “Here this should make you feel better.” Jake admires your toothless grin from below, already feeling much better. It didn’t take much longer after that for him to decide to keep you around.
Jake and Josh were a package deal so being best friends with Josh was inevitable. Growing up, you always found that Josh matched your energy to-a-tee. He was your best friend, the one that always knew how to make you laugh. But, Jake was different. Jake felt like your home, your safe place.
That was until he started acting like an asshole out of nowhere. One day you were fine, the next day you weren’t.
It hurt like hell. There’s truly no way to describe losing your better half, other than heartbreak. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so bad, if you weren’t utterly in love with him.
As the years go by, Jake continues his relentless cycle of torture. The snide comments or blatant disrespect, never compared to the pain of him ignoring you. Josh was dumbfounded at Jake’s behavior toward you. He could have sworn Jake was in love with you, but it’s not the first time Jake has surprised him. Josh was tired of constantly calling Jake out on his shit. He understood if Jake just didn’t get along with you anymore, but the disrespect was uncalled for.
Over time, you got used to Jake’s nasty behavior and decided to not let it bother you. If he was going to act like a child then so be it, you would be the mature one.
The boy’s music career had shot up since high school, which meant less time spent together and more time touring the world. Saying your goodbyes was hard, but was inevitable. In the meantime, your life would live on in Michigan, while theirs roamed the world.
Life caught up with all of you, which meant less phone calls and no time for visits. Josh kept his promise when he said he would call once a week. He loved giving you every detail of tour since you couldn’t be there. You had been with them since before they even decided to be a band, so not having you around was weird for all of them, even Jake.
After being away for a year, the tour has finally come to an end. Sam being Sam decides to throw a coming home party, mourning the end of tour but celebrating their return.
Being Josh’s right-hand man comes with its perks, so when you get the invitation to their “exclusive” party, you can’t turn the opportunity down.
Would it be weird to say that you hit a second puberty over the past year? Probably, yes. But, you were being truthful. All those years begging and pleading your body to catch up with your maturing mind, payed off it seems. You finally felt good in your own shoes. So, when the hot guy from the local coffee shop asks for your number, who are you to say no.
Having had plans for a date the night of the party, you suggest that the two of you attend a good friend’s party. Surprisingly, he agrees to go with you, let’s just hope he’s used to crazy.
____
“Josh will you please shut the fuck up? I don’t want to hear her name again, please,” Jake groans out.
Whipping his head in Jake’s direction Josh says, “She’s my best friend. I’m allowed to be excited to see her Jake.”
Jake gives his best effort to not roll his eyes, but fails.
“It’s not like you have to talk to her. I’m sure she isn’t thrilled to see you either, after how shitty you’ve been,” Josh mumbles, leaving the room.
Huffing like a child, Jake does his best to calm his nerves. He is not prepared whatsoever to see you after all this time.
____
Jake already knew it would be hard to see you, but seeing you with some guy makes his façade shatter completely. Pre-gaming seems to have been a bust, because he has never felt soberer in his life.
“Sunshine!” Josh’s bright smile distracts you from scanning the crowd any longer, silently searching for his other half.
After Josh has gotten his fill of hugs and kisses from you, he makes quick work of introducing himself to your date.
Josh’s love for first impressions allows you to quickly excuse yourself, wanting to find a drink strong enough to get through the night.
Scanning the crowd, you see him. Sitting in a secluded corner of the room, slowly sipping on his drink.
Realizing his eyes had been on you since stepping in the doorway, you allow yourself one quick glance in his direction. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of actively looking for him, you walk the opposite direction, silently hoping he’ll follow you.
Is Jake an asshole to you? Yes.
Does he deserve even a second of your time? Hell no.
But, there’s still a part of you that longs for the Jake you once knew so well. It’s foolish to believe that after all this time he has changed, but you can’t help but wish for it.
Fixing a drink, you smile at people in passing or attempt to make small talk.
Feeling him before you see him, his presence looms over you like no other.
Jake sits onto the countertop next to you, plucking the cherry out of your drink. Grinning wickedly at you, he sucks the cherry into his mouth.
If you hadn’t been so focused on his cherry stained lips, you would have slapped the audacity right out of him.
“See something you like, sunshine?”
“Fuck off Jake,” you glare up at him.
“Don’t be like that, where’s my welcome home hug?” he pouts.
“Assholes don’t get welcome home hugs. They get a foot up their ass instead. Would you like me to demonstrate?”
He chuckles.
Jumping off the counter, he says, “It’s good to see you to, Sunshine.”
Watching him saunter off to his dark corner, you exhale, trying to regain your footing. Jake has always had a way of making your head feel all fuzzy, no matter what bullshit he was spewing.
____
Sam had made the executive decision to start a bonfire later into the night.
The party had dwindled down to very few people at this point.
Your date had decided to head home early because he had work the following morning. The both of you had agreed to see each other again soon. He seemed extremely nice, but you had a feeling it wouldn’t work out due to your complicated past resurfacing.
But, you were in desperate need of a distraction sadly.
Which left you snuggled under Josh’s arm, sharing childhood stories around the fire. Very clique, but it happened every time you all got together and had a few drinks.
Jake’s eyes haven’t left your figure since you walked in the door. The moment in the kitchen with you replaying in his mind over and over again. He could have sworn you looked at him, like he’s always looked at you.
Hanging on to every word that comes out of your mouth, Jake yearns for your affection.
Over the years, Jake has had love interests that weaved in and out of his life. He’d never been in love with any of them, but unconsciously found parts of you in them.
Deflecting his feelings for you by pretending to dislike you is better than being rejected by the one person he loves most, at least that’s what he tells himself.
He longs to hold you close like Josh.
Was his fear of rejection worth losing his best friend?
____
Weeks have passed since the night of the party. Danny had graciously taken you home that night, promising to have a lunch date soon.
Remember the guy you brought with you to said party, you know, the one you agreed to see again?
Well, the time has come to meet up again. The both of you agree to get drinks at a local bar in town. Your excited to go out actually. He’s a cute guy who seems to have a genuine interest in you. Plus, he could be the solution to your irritating Jake problem. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten all dolled up anyway, so this is a great excuse.
Finally feeling satisfied with how you look, you head out the door. Don’t get it twisted, you’re not dressing for him. Putting on a pretty outfit and delicate makeup is all for you, mostly because it’s fun.
High school is rough for everyone. Puberty, delayed growth spurts, acne, braces, and social standards never complimented each other. Having struggled with each and every aspect of an awkward stage during high school.
Feeling beautiful is hard when everyone around is trying to be anyone but themselves. So, you could say high school was rough for you.
You never thought of yourself as beautiful or magnificent. Mostly putting yourself into the dull category, because there was truly nothing special about you.
But, Jake always had a way of proving you wrong.
Jake watched you grow from a gentle and kind young lady, into a breath-taking woman.
Having always thought you were beautiful in every stage of life, Jake truly wouldn’t know where to start.
_____
The bar was lit up with string lights, softly playing music.
Lucky for you, the bar was just a block over from your house, so you were able to walk over. Hoping that your date went well enough for you to hitch a ride home with him.
You arrived on time, perching yourself atop the nearest bar stool. He had messaged you saying he was running behind, but he shouldn’t be too long. So, you had decided to wait at the bar for him.
____
Hours have passed and your still sat atop a barstool, downing your sixth drink of the night. You came to the conclusion about two hours ago, that he was indeed not coming after all.
“Ma’am, do you have a ride home? We’re closing up shop here, so you’re going to have to leave soon,” the older bartender asks you.
“Yeah, yeah sorry. Let me call a friend of mine really quick,” you fumble around, looking for your phone.
Securing your phone in your hand, you go to call Josh. He wouldn’t mind coming to get you.
“Hello?”
“Hey Josh, I know its late but I need a ride home. I’m at the bar down the street, but I’ve had too much to drink to walk home in the dark. Can you please come get me?” anxiously fidgeting in your seat.
“I’ll be there in five. Stay right there,” he hangs up abruptly.
He did not sound happy whatsoever. Making Josh mad was not on your to do list today.
It’s just kind of weird. Josh never minds picking you up, he actually insists its him you call. He’s probably having a rough day, don’t over think it.
It hadn’t even been five minutes when you heard your name being called behind you.
Except that voice was definitely not Josh’s.
Out of all people you could have accidentally called, it had to be him. Your night couldn’t get any worse.
Spinning around on your chair, you sigh, waiting for him to provoke you.
He looks at you worriedly, almost like you would shatter any second now.
You scoff, rolling your eyes.
“What? What did I do now?” Jake questions, conscious of your every move.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
You glare at him.
“Like I’m some fucking lost puppy.”
“Don’t give me a reason to,” he bites back.
Running your hands across your face, you realize just how tired you were. “Jake, I can’t do this with you right now. I’ve had a shitty day. Can you please just take me home?”
He reluctantly nods, heading out the door with you in tow.
The two of you climb into his car and begin your silent ride home.
Jake’s never seen you like this. He’s used to you being angry especially at him. Granite, he does love to get you riled up.
But, his favorite is when your happy. When you smile so big, that it throws him back to the day he met you, with your big toothless grin shining down on him.
His sunshine now turning into rain.
So, he respects the silence for once in his life, letting you have your moment. Watching the tears gather in your eyes, brings along a feeling he’s not familiar with.
Rage.
Gripping the steering wheel, he feels steam run off of him, allowing his knuckles to turn white.
It’s one thing for him to tease and mock you, but another for some asshole to think he can and get away with it.
Jake wants now more than anything to be Josh for you. To make you smile and laugh. He can’t bare to see you like this any longer.
“Do you want to play some music? I’ll even let you choose,” he speaks softly, almost like he doesn’t want to run you off.
You peer up at him in confusion. Where the hell did Jake go?
Shifting anxiously under your gaze, Jake mumbles a quick never mind.
It’s been years since the two of you have had a civil conversation, so this feels unnatural.
“Do you remember when Sam had a crush on you?” doing his best to break the ice.
You snort.
His heart flutters seeing you laugh at something he said for once.
“Do I? The kid followed me around for weeks asking me all kinds of weird questions. It took you telling him that I had cooties because of you to back off,” you laugh out.
Sam was never a smooth talker, that’s for sure.
Jake laughs.
You watch in awe, begging for him to never stop laughing again.
Eventually, Jake pulls into your driveway. The two of you sit in silence for a moment, just wanting to bask in the normalcy for once.
You pull the door open, stepping out of the car. Turning around, you give him a tight-lipped smile.
“Thanks Jake, for everything,” looking anywhere but at him.
“No need to thank me, I’d do it again. If you really wanted to thank me, you could tell me where that guy lives so I can kick his ass,” he smiles up at you, only slightly kidding.
Laughing you wave goodbye, praying that he doesn’t see how flustered you were.
Once you’ve made it inside, Jake sits in the driveway, contemplating everything that happened tonight.
On the way home, Jake realizes he regrets not apologizing for everything he’s said that he truly didn’t mean.
____
Days pass and Jake hasn’t heard a peep from or about you. Josh claims that your trying to heal from getting your heartbroken, but Jake has a feeling something else is wrong.
He is terrified that he may have done something to hurt or upset you once again. He is sick and tired of being the one that hurts you.
So, Jake makes the impulsive decision to go see you. Josh protests saying “Jake is the last person you would want to see right now”. In authentic Jake fashion, he doesn’t give a flying fuck.
____
The drive to your house was torture. Jake didn’t know what the right thing to say would be or what he should do.
Thinking back to simpler times, he remembers the time he saw you the summer of 9th grade.
____
That summer was a weird one for all of you.
Jake and Josh finally went through a growth spurt and started filling into their teenage bodies.
They hadn’t seen you all summer because your family sent you to summer camp.
Jake had come home one day, looking for Josh. He heard Josh’s voice float down the hallway from the garage. Making his way in that direction, he heard a second voice. Recognizing that sweet voice anywhere, Jake strides down the hall in search of you.
Once in the garage, he froze in his tracks. It was definitely you, but different. Jake remembers your straggly hair and your scraped knees. He remembers a little girl, his best friend.
You were no longer a little girl, you were a young woman.
You had bloomed into a stunning flower. Jake felt breathless.
But, after all you were still you. Jake was still Jake.
Best friends forever, but maybe it had always been more than that.
____
Jake and Josh hauled you everywhere. Every show they played you were there.
Believing in their success was never difficult for you. The moment you heard them play together, you knew everything would change.
When the boys played their first big show, you had tagged along not wanting to miss a second of it. Their set had finally come to an end that night. Trotting off the stage, Jake immediately went looking for you. He’d kept an eye on you throughout the show, always feeling better with you close by.
Feeling a hand grip his wrist, he spins around in search of the culprit.
Wrapping him into a bear hug, you squeeze him tight.
Pulling away from you he notices tears in your eyes.
“What’s wrong? Was the show that bad?”
You slap at his chest.
“No, you idiot. These are happy tears. I’m just so proud of you guys. Thank you for letting me be here,” you smile up at him.
“Thank you for wanting to be here. I couldn’t have done it without you,” he remarks.
Arriving at your house, he stumbles up to your porch and forces himself to knock on your door. After what seems to be the longest two minutes of his life, you answer the door.
You clearly just woke up from a nap, your hair a wild mess. Of course, Jake thinks its adorable.
Obviously, your taken aback as to why Jake would be standing on your front porch. You begin to question him, but he stops you.
“Can I come in? We need to talk,” he says, barely looking you in the eye.
“Yeah sure, sure,” you say, stepping aside.
Looking around, Jake realizes he’s never been inside your house before. Your windows are wide open, welcoming the sunlight in. Music playing softly from your record player. Books littered all over the room. It feels like home, yet so unfamiliar.
Clearing your throat, you see him jump, clearly on edge.
Once the two of you have gotten comfortable on your sofa, you realize she how quiet it is. Giving him a small smile, in hopes to provide some sort of comfort due to his jitteriness. He melts at the sight of your kind gesture.
“Are you feeling better” he asks.
Chuckling nervously, you reply, “Way better than the last time you saw me. Thank you for that by the way. I meant to text you afterwards, but I was just too tired.”
“You don’t have to thank me, I wanted to.”
You stare at him blankly.
“You wanted to save me from one of the most embarrassing nights of my life?”
“No no no, I didn’t mean it like that, I just like helping you or being the one you call.”
Giving him an exasperated sigh, you sink deeper into your chair.
“Jake, why are you here?”
He sighs, remembering the real reason he came after all. “I don’t even know where to start. I just wanted to apologize, for everything. You never deserved how I treated you. You’ve always been such an enigma to me. I couldn’t ever figure out why you were so kind to me, even after I pushed you away.”
“Then why did you push me away Jake? When all I’ve ever wanted was to be close to you.”
“I felt like I had to. You and Josh had gotten so close. I was selfish and got jealous. I’ve had to share everything with Josh my whole life. The one thing I never ever wanted to share was you. At the time, I felt like you had finally made your decision and it was Josh that you chose. It hurt too much to see the both of you together, so I made myself distance from you. A few years after I came to my senses and realized I was being selfish making you choose between the both of us, I wanted to make things right. I bought flowers and wrote out my whole apology speech, just to get to your front door and cower away. I felt like there would be no way you would forgive with such a lame ass excuse at that point. I had already dug deep enough. So, I made myself learn how to hate you, even though that’s the farthest thing from the truth. I--- I’m just so sorry Y/n. I never want to hurt you again. Being the one you called that night at the bar made me realize just how much I missed you. I miss talking to you, laughing with you, and sitting with you. I miss everything. I want to make it right, no matter what it takes. You deserve it, you always have.”
Hiding his face within his hands, in order to keep some composure, he hears a sniffle. Quickly looking up, Jake comes face to face with your tearful smile.
Tears poor down your face, while grinning ear to ear.
Reaching over, Jake gently wipes your tears away. You reach up and cup his shaky hands, holding them against your face.
“You’re such a dumbass.”
The both of you die out with chocked up laughter.
“You should have just told me Jake. I’ve always loved you both and I always will. But, my love for you is different, it always has been. You’re my best friend. Josh is my brother, the one that shields me. I had a sneaking suspicion that may have been what triggered your behavior, but I was too pissed to talk about it with you. Your right, I didn’t deserve the treatment you gave me, but I saw right through that bullshit. You forget that I watched you grow up. You’ve always been my sweetheart, the friend that would go above and beyond for you. I never truly believed you hated me, I just wanted to give you time to figure yourself out, no matter how long it took. I forgive you Jake. I think I forgave you a long time ago, but was always too prideful to admit it to myself.”
Grinning at each other, Jake pulls you into a tight hug. Being this close to one another after years of pining, felt like a dream.
Finally, you pull away realizing just how close the two of you were. Feeling Jake’s breath gently against your skin, you glance down at his lips. Jake’s breathing all together stops.
Quickly, your mind comes to its senses and the both of you awkwardly pull away.
Scratching the back of his neck, Jake says, “I guess I should head back to the studio now. Josh is going to kill me if I’m late again.”
“Oh yeah, of course. I know how cranky he can get,” you laugh off. Leading him out your front door, you turn to walk back inside.
“Y/n,” Jake calls out.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
You smile so wide, your bottom lip shakes.
Waving him off, you head back inside. Laying against the door, your head feels fuzzy from just his smile.
____
Five minutes later, Jake finds himself pulling right back into your driveway. He marches right out of his car, straight up to your porch once again. In a tizzy, he begins banging on your door.
Rushing to see what the ruckus is about, you swing open your door.
“Miss me already?” you chuckle out.
“Marry me.”
“What?”
“What?”
The both of you stand there looking at each other, daring the other to speak up.
“I’m sorry that’s not what I meant to say, I was trying to tell you-
You tug him by his collar, kissing him softly.
Eventually, the two of you pull away trying to catch your breath. Resting his head against yours, you both smile.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” you whisper out.
Jake chuckles in disbelieve. “No way, I’ve been dreaming of that since 7th grade.”
He takes your hand in his, squeezing so tight in hopes to convey his love for you. Immediately understanding, you bring your hand up to gently stroke his hair.
“Well, we could keep standing out here looking at one another, or we can go inside and kiss some more,” you say.
Jake hastily responses, “Inside please.”
____
Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!!!!
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marvelfilth · 1 month
Text
AKA Shut up and listen
Pairing: Jessica Jones x f!reader
Warnings: alcohol consumption, self-deprication
Summary: you love Jess, Jess doesn't get why
Masterlist
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"So... This is it?" you mumble, your gaze pinned to the roach on the wall to your left.
You really shouldn't be disappointed - you heard enough of Jess' grumbling whenever she came back from a hideout with too many compromising pictures on her camera and too much alcohol on her breath.
So, yeah, it's all your fault, since it was you who begged her to take you with her, just to get a taste of that PI life.
"Yes." She opens the window, letting some fresh air flow into the tiny motel room.
"Cool," you sigh and search the room for a safe place to sit. Unfortunately, the entire place looks like a biohazard, so you have no choice, but to settle on the edge of the single bed.
Your hesitation doesn't escape Jess' watchful eye. "You realize you'll have to sleep here, right?" Jessica drawls. She's sitting on the windowsill, her flask clutched between her fingertips. She raises her eyebrows at your silence and you shake your head, feeling hot all of a sudden. Lately, it's been happening too often - her looking at you far longer than a friend should, and you flushing under her heavy gaze.
"You said it won't take long," you mumble, turning away to hide your burning cheeks with your hair.
"It won't. Twenty hours top." She shrugs, taking off her leather jacket to reveal her toned arms, your eyes zeroing in on the muscles hidden under her soft skin.
"Great," you sigh.
The roach on the wall moves closer to you and you have to fight the urge to stamp it down with your shoe.
It probably has a family somewhere.
"You don't have to stay. I can call Trish, she'll pick you up. She can take you somewhere fancy."
Your eyes roll at the obvious attempt at getting rid of you. You know she likes you enough to tolerate you for at least a day, but you also know she prefers to work alone. Even Trish never gets to tag along.
"You know I like you more."
“Really?” She husks sarcastically around the neck of her flask.
“Yes.”
Another roach crawls from under the bed, making you squeak and jump off it. Jessica rolls her eyes, gesturing around you. “This. This is me.”
You blink. Then blink again. “A roach?”
She hums, turning to look outside and taking another swing from her flask. “Yep. A roach, dirty motel, cheap booze - all me. Doesn't seem like your thing.”
You huff, crossing your arms, your shoulders suddenly tense. “Luckily for me, you're more than cheap booze, and shitty motels, and roaches. So yeah, you're my thing.”
She tilts her head, her dark eyes brimming with exhaustion from countless sleepless nights spent chasing leads, but there's a flicker of something, something important. It's gone faster than you can place it, and she turns back to the window, lifting her camera, and covering her face from your scrutiny.
“Get us some food, yeah?” She whispers, pretending to focus on the streets below.
You let out a frustrated huff, but nod nonetheless, leaving in search of something edible.
You come back a little over half an hour later, a paper bag full of takeout clutched tightly against your chest, your heart still racing after a ride with a sketchy man on a sketchy elevator.
Jessica startles you with a question.
“You okay?”
Her body is halfway out of the window, facing the building across the street, but her eyes are pinned to you. The flask lies empty on the windowsill.
“Peachy,” you mumble, pushing a container into her hand. “Eat it all or no booze for two days.”
She frowns, eyeing you warily. “Don't bullshit me.”
You smile, humming, and nudge Jess to make space for you on the windowsill. You dig into the food, almost moaning at the rich flavor, and note with pride that Jessica seems to enjoy it too.
“Not bad,” she says around a forkful. “Not as good as your famous lasagna-”
You shove her before she can finish her thought.
“Jess!”
Her brow arches in question, and she keeps a serious expression for all three seconds before the corners of her mouth jump up in a fleeting smile. “What? I liked it.”
You groan, pushing the food around. She'll never let you forget it. And to think that you were just being a caring friend, spending all day perfecting a recipe you found online, chasing down Jess, and making her eat some of it.
“Just a little less salt next time,” she says, leaning back against the wall, her eyes on you.
You shake your head, cheeks burning in embarrassment.
The evening is settling in, the warm glow of the sun seeping away, giving way to the chilly breeze. You shudder, goosebumps littering your bare arms, and consider moving to the bed, or maybe wrapping yourself in a blanket. You eye it warily - it's thin, its color washed away and even from here you can see some of the stains.
You jump up when a weight settles over your shoulders, a familiar scent of leather enveloping you. When you turn to look at Jess, instead of looking away like you thought she would, she looks at you, head-on.
“Thanks,” you whisper, pushing your arms through the sleeves. “You're not cold?”
She shakes her head no, pushing her food around. “Looks good on you.”
“Yeah?” You look down at your lap, fingers fidgeting. The air grows heavy.
She reaches inside her bag and takes out another flask.
“I'm no good for you, you know?” she says after gulping at least a quarter of it.
You look up, startled.
“I'm an asshole with a drinking problem. You deserve better.”
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “You’re not an asshole.”
She snorts, and finishes the flask in quick gulps before carelessly throwing it to the floor.
“Jess.”
She hums.
“You're not an asshole.”
“I heard you the first time.”
You huff, and pull the take out box out of her hands before gently setting both of your food on the nearby table. “Jessica,” you start, squaring your shoulders. “I need you to listen to me very carefully.” She rolls her eyes, but turns to face you nonetheless. You can tell she's ready to bolt or at least deflect, but you won't let her. Not this time, the conversation is long overdue.
You take her hand in yours, fiddling with her slender fingers. “You’re one of the best people I've ever met, Jess-” the scoff that follows is expected “-yes, you are!” You insist, giving her hand a sharp tug. “You're brave, and selfless, and kind-”
“I’m an unreliable, unstable alcoholic with a fucked up head,” she growls, jumping off her seat. “I'm not kind or brave. I don't do nice things. I'm not nice, period. I have a hole in my wall and more empty bottles than cutlery. I haven't washed my jeans in two months. I- fuck, sometimes I can't even look at you without thinking about you leaving, eventually.” She starts pacing, fingers lost in her dark tresses.
“Jess.”
“I can't take care of myself, Trish does that half the time. I have one bedsheet. I don't have a vacuum cleaner. My door is permanently broken.”
“Jessica.”
“I'm a fucked up-”
“Shut up.”
She stops mid rant, looking at you with tired eyes, and let's out a long-suffering sigh. “You deserve better.”
You shake your head and take a step towards her. “I love you.”
She recoils, suddenly looking like a frightened child. Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “What?” She croaks.
“I love you, Jess. I love you when you're drunk and miserable, and I love you when sober up and smile like you don't have a care in the world. I love you when you're out of reach for days on a case, and I love you when you make sure to spend time with me, even if it means sacrificing sleep-”
“Stop.”
“-I love you when you don't have time to take my calls, and I love you when you answer me from strangers’ balconies. I love you when you're being mean, and I love you when you choose to be the kindest person I know, even after all of the shit you've been through.”
“Y/n…”
“I love you and your broken door. And I love your cutlery.”
“Don't-”
“And I have a vacuum cleaner.”
She sighs, but her eyes soften just a slightest bit. "A vacuum cleaner, huh?"
You swallow and take a deep breath. “I- I don't want anyone else, Jess. I want you. I love you.”
She looks at you for a long moment, her jaw tenses, brows furrow in thought. “Okay,” she nods slowly, begrudgingly.
“Yeah?” You whisper, inching closer.
“Yeah,” she breathes against your lips, before pulling you in a tender, almost chaste kiss. She's pulling away a second later and it's over before you even fully register the feeling of her soft, full lips on yours. “I- You- Fuck, why is this shit so goddamn hard?” She grumbles, closing her eyes briefly before taking a deep breath. “You deserve better, so-”
“Jessica,” you growl, pushing her by the shoulders. She doesn't budge, pressing you closer to her chest, her grip on your waist tightening.
“You deserve better, so I'll get better. I'll do better. For you,” she finishes slowly, begrudgingly, and for a moment you're speechless. “Less booze should be a good start, right? No girl likes to smell alcohol all the time,” she sounds like she's complaining, like this is the worst situation she could ever find herself in, but her eyes shine in a way you've never seen before. It's hope, you realise after a moment.
“Not for me, for you,” you state firmly, cupping her jaw. “You'll get better for you.”
She blinks. “That’s not a good enough motivation,” she grumbles.
You press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, fighting back a smile. She's so Jess. “We'll work on that.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Okay. I... I love you too, I guess.”
"Mhm," you hum, and she opens her mouth again, so you pull her in a proper kiss before she can say anything else.
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