#because it frustrates me and i start looking for solutions in everything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkmatilda · 28 days ago

Text

𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: who would’ve thought a drunken vegas wedding would have consequences? well, definitely not spencer—at least not in the moment he went through with it. but now he has to do something about it, sign the right papers, and overcome the dozens of excuses that, for some unknown reason, are starting to form in his head.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, aftermath of The One In Vegas fic — but you don’t need to read that one first, all you need to know is that the imbeciles got married in vegas, reader’s cat is seriously ill :(( but pulls through and they take care of her together hihi you know the secretly dating trope what about secretly married trope??

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.2k

𝐚/𝐧: request masterlist

It's been two months.

Time flies right? Bullshit. You can say it about some fresh relationship with an intensive honeymoon phase where one day you wake up thinking, oh, it's been two months already! Or about a cat you adopted. Who at the beginning was a tiny little crumb, a speck of sweet cake and suddenly as if overnight transformed into a dignified, refined lady cat looking at everything with alert little eyes (Spencer, as a cat dad himself could confirm)

But you couldn't say that about a wedding you took two months ago in Vegas by mistake. With a woman you hated could barely stand tolerated enjoyed being around just sometimes. And you still hadn't gotten a divorce.

And, as it turned out, you weren’t planning to.

But how Spencer and his irreplaceable, gorgeous friend from work came to that decision, you’ll find out in a moment.

“Avoiding me?”

Spencer had just poured the last spoonful of sugar into his coffee, grabbed it, and the moment he turned around, he ran into her and her question. He hadn’t even heard her approach, nor sensed her presence behind his back. So, of course he jumped, and a few drops of coffee landed on the sleeve of his shirt. He cursed.

“Am I that terrifying?” she asked with a snort.

Spencer shot her a look full of frustration. It was his favorite shirt!

“No, you just for some unknown reason have to sneak up on me. Like you’re planning to slip arsenic into my coffee.”

“You think I’m in such a hurry to become a widow?”

Hearing those words, he stopped worrying about the stain on his shirt and froze in place, catching her gaze. She also suddenly turned serious—actually, in a split second—which made him start to suspect that she had been that way ever since she walked up to him, just hiding it behind a few sarcastic remarks. She stood in front of him, perfectly straight posture, arms crossed over her chest, and as always, her chin slightly tilted up. Yes, she was deadly serious. But it was hard to expect any other attitude from her, considering what they finally had to talk about.

It was the first time they’d seen each other after returning from Vegas. At work. In the morning. She was right, he had been avoiding her a bit. The weight of the whole situation turned out to be too much, and besides, he needed time to figure out whether all of it hadn’t just been a dream he’d had during some deathly serious fever.

Confronted, Spencer looked at her face not very intelligently, his mind filled with black. He had no idea how they were supposed to have this conversation. She suddenly nodded slightly.

“If that’s what you think, you’re absolutely right,” she said. “I’m in a hurry to become a widow. That’s why I came to talk to you, because we have to finally do something about this…”

“I think you meant to say divorcée. Not widow. The word widow clearly suggests…”

“Whereas the word husband means you don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking…”

“Since when…”

“Since always. Shows I’m your first wife if you don’t know such basics.”

Reid’s brain fogged up like he’d stumbled upon some mysterious equation whose solution was beyond even his math skills. And that didn’t happen often.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t use the word wife in our context.”

“Why not? It’s the truth. I’m your wife now, even if it’s only temporary.”

He set his coffee mug back on the counter so he could cross his arms over his chest and fixed her with an analytical look, which she had no problem returning.

“Careful. Or I’ll start thinking that somewhere deep down you actually like the way this is turning out.”

First, she parted her lips, automatically, ready to answer immediately, sharply. Then the words must have really hit her, because she closed them again. But Spencer didn’t even have time to relish the triumph of having successfully silenced her (something he practically never managed to do, unless his own mouth also stayed shut) when her eyes widened, and her brows shot to the middle of her forehead. With pity.

“Now that was brilliant, genius,” she snorted, shaking her head slightly from side to side. Right after, she snorted again. “Go on, say I dragged you by force to that Vegas chapel. The beginning of my master plan, poor Spencer fell victim to it. And then, from grief and devastation, went to bed with me...”

He held out his hand in a stopping gesture, to steer the conversation back to its original course because they didn’t have much time, yeah, that was the reason.

“We’re getting off topic,” he noted instructively, ignoring her next snort that followed right after his words. He drew more air into his lungs, as for a short moment they both fell silent, and the air in the empty kitchen thickened.

When he spoke again, he made sure his voice was quieter. Not just because he wanted to give it the proper seriousness—but also because he didn’t want, couldn’t allow anyone to accidentally overhear it. On that, at least, they agreed.

“We’re getting a divorce, right? Like we agreed on…y’know, back then.”

He was fully ready to take the hit of her ironic no, let’s stay married till death do us part, but it didn’t come, which was enough to tell him that she, too, wanted out of this complicated, stupid mess they’d gotten themselves into.

She nodded once, but firmly.

“As soon as I get home, I’ll print the paperwork,” she announced. “So, we’ll just meet later, all we need is both our signatures since we both want it and don’t have any kids or anything like that. Then we file it with the court and we’re free. We don’t even have to dress up, but personally, I think we should as we never got the chance to go all out for our wedding outfit—”

Spencer cut her off, inhaling a huge gulp of air through his nose, realizing something.

“I can’t,” he said.

Her eyebrows rose at him.

‘What do you mean you can’t...’

“I can’t meet with you today,” he clarified, as he had meant to from the start. He rubbed his forehead with a sigh. “We have another case, and we’re flying out…literally in half an hour. I just wanted to grab a coffee before we left. We might even be gone for a few days.”

His voice softened unintentionally, like he was trying to cushion the potential explosion from her end—oh, it was definitely coming. One look at her clenched jaw was enough.

And it wasn’t even his fault!

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” the woman began through gritted teeth, but didn’t finish—

because someone else cut her off mid-sentence.

“Good morning, guys. How’s your day going? ’Cause mine’s just fantastic,” Morgan strolled into the kitchen with a near-dance in his step—one that hadn’t left him since his girlfriend said yes to his proposal. He paused, a smirk playing on his lips as his gaze drifted over their faces. “Okay, clearly not that fantastic. Sparks are flying around your heads. What’s it this time?”

“None of your business,” they snapped at the exact same time.

His eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t offended. He looked at them more like he was observing some strange behavioral exhibit.

“Two of my friends are fighting, so yeah it kinda is my business. At least to some degree. But seriously now, what’s going on with you two? You’ve been acting weird ever since we got back from Vegas.”

Like the worst actors in the world, they whipped their panicked gazes toward each other.

Spencer’s look screamed he knows! He knows! Do something!

Hers, on the other hand, was clearly yelling stop making it so obvious, don’t panic like a little boy!

And actually, she was the first to pull herself together, squaring her shoulders and shifting her gaze to Morgan with stoic calm.

“We’re acting weird?” she asked, tilting her head toward him, accusatorially. “You’re the one acting weird. Walking around all sunshine and rainbows. Only thing missing are the little hearts floating over your head.”

Unfazed, Morgan spread his arms.

“Happy relationship, happy man,” he summarized.

She gave him a sarcastic smile.

“Don’t worry, it all fades after the wedding.”

He smiled back, just as sarcastically.

“And what would you know about that?”

“Well,” Spencer began, feeling obligated to take his temporary wife’s side, “if you look at it statistically…”

“What would either of you know about that?”

This time, they waited until he left the kitchen before exchanging a silent look.

Another two weeks had passed and it was only just starting to sink in for Spencer that he had a wife — and what’s more, he was finding himself more and more fascinated by that fact.

Okay, he didn’t want to sound silly, but sometimes he did imagine what his life would look like after getting married, and usually those visions were shaped by what he saw around him, the people he knew, what he’d read in books or seen in movies. Either way, he had never expected that 1) it would be someone he wasn’t even in a relationship with, and 2) they wouldn’t actually see each other after the wedding!

The case they had been working on dragged on horribly, and once it was wrapped up, they both got swept away by their own responsibilities. And if they saw each other at all, it was exactly because of that. The topic of divorce just hovered above them, somewhere in the back of their minds.

Just like in the back of his mind there was always wow, you're a married guy now, Reid. All the time — even though the marriage was literally just a piece of paper — he kept catching himself directing those words at himself.

How many times had he sat on the jet with the team, in total silence, staring at each of his friends in turn while thinking none of them know I have a wife!

He didn’t flirt with women, didn’t go on dates, but he knew that if he did decide to — or even tried — he’d feel bad about it.

One time he and Morgan were sent to a bar to talk to some witnesses, and one of the women there kept getting closer to him, accidentally brushing against his arm or shoulder, trying to catch his eye — and he didn’t respond, because he was too busy dissociating and wondering whether, theoretically speaking this would count as cheating?

He wondered if she ever felt the same way, at least sometimes. It really made him wonder, and after a while he came to the conclusion that there was a significant chance she didn’t.

And for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, that left him with an unpleasant feeling.

Spencer eventually came to the conclusion that the whole marriage situation was simply too overwhelming for his overanalyzing brain, so when they finally managed to schedule a time to sign the divorce papers, he accepted it with a certain sense of relief.

He hadn’t even made it to her apartment — hadn’t even left his own — when he got an unexpected call from her, suggesting that their plans for the evening were going to be a little different.

Because divorce didn’t usually involve a veterinary clinic…right?

When he arrived, any thoughts of signing anything were quickly — very quickly — pushed aside, not just because of the circumstances, but also because of the look on her face when they finally came face to face.

“What happened?” he asked, not even trying to hide his concern. Her cat was also his cat — the one he’d personally pulled out of a dumpster a few months ago and since neither of them had much time on their hands, they’d decided to care for her together.

Her arms were crossed, not in a dominant way but more as if seeking some semblance of comfort, and one of her legs was bouncing slightly in place,a detail he noticed in passing.

“Marie was acting strange since the morning,” she began. Her voice wasn’t trembling, but it was significantly lacking its usual strength. The same went for her expression — tense, clearly balancing on the edge between deep worry and fear, crossing that line over and over again. She took a shallow breath and forced herself to continue with a slight nod of her head, her arms crossing tighter over her chest.

“She was apathetic, didn’t want to eat. Then the vomiting started and…I don’t know, it seemed really serious. And don’t look at me like that, it’s not like last time.”

Last time they’d gone to the vet and it had turned out the cat was fine, the whole thing just her premature panic. But Spencer flinched, surprised she snapped at him, since not for a moment had he looked at her with suspicion or condescension — still, he felt guilty anyway and quickly protested, shaking his head.

“I know,” he assured her honestly, even meeting her gaze, which quickly caught onto the contact with some surprise, but also a bit of softening. “Even if it’s a false alarm, it’s good that you’re here. Do we know anything?”

She shook her head with another anxious breath.

So they waited together, not breaking the silence even once — not when they sat there, not even when they were leaving the clinic an hour later, having found out that Marie would have to stay for at least a few days because she had contracted feline panleukopenia.

A dangerous disease in cats.

Spencer glanced uncertainly at her profile while she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, and he wondered whether she was scanning the parking lot for their car or if her thoughts had drifted somewhere far away. He had no idea what to say—he didn’t want to throw out a casual hey, everything’s gonna be fine because he knew it would sound dishonest when he himself wasn’t sure, and besides, it would definitely earn him one of her hard looks that clearly meant shut up.

So he cleared his throat and decided to go with something that always resonated with both of them. Science.

“Panleukopenia has a very high mortality rate, that’s true,” he began, making sure to follow up quickly before the weight of that first sentence could fully land. “But the older the cat, the better they fight it. The worst cases are usually in kittens under five months, and Marie’s over a year old, she’s well nourished, actually, she eats better than I do thanks to you. Besides, she’s a strong cat, remember when she…oh, okay—”

She hugged him. The kind of hug one gives a pillow after a cruel day, wrapping her arms around him, and he was almost sure she locked them behind his back. At first, he must have made a terrible pillow, stiff with surprise and general lack of practice at being touched, but he quickly found it in himself to get better at it. Surprisingly better, placing a hand on the back of her head where it rested against him, and started to wonder if maybe he was generally better at giving hugs than he’d always thought he was.

“When she gets better I’m adopting her fully,” she said, the words muffled against his body and clothing. He furrowed his brows, not quite sure what she meant. “Marie. I’ll even quit my job. Become a full-time cat mom. “

Spencer, recognizing the tension still in her voice but catching the self-soothing joke beneath it, let out a short snort and added, “Of course you will. Giving up partying too?”

“You bet I will.”

He nodded, signaling he didn’t believe her. Then realized she couldn’t see that. Right.

But before she pulled away — which he wasn’t rushing her to do — one last thing came to his mind. He decided to bring it up, taking advantage of the slightly lighter mood, because well, they had to eventually.

“About those divorce papers, we could sign them to-”

She didn’t let go of him, but jerked her head up abruptly to shoot him a disbelieving, angry look.

“How dare you think about divorce when our baby might be dying?”

Spencer blinked, not very intelligently.

The woman pulled away from him, crossing her arms over her chest — this time in an authoritative, offended gesture.

“I don’t even want to hear about it until she gets better,” she snapped. “All the way better. I’ve got enough on my plate, and I’m not going to think about it right now.”

She walked off toward her car and sat in the driver’s seat without looking back. Spencer stood still, processing her words. I don’t want to hear about it until she gets better?Did that mean she wanted them to stay married for at least a few more weeks — since that’s how long the cat’s recovery might take?

She leaned her head out of the car, looking at him questioningly.

“You coming or not?”

Did that mean she wanted them to stay married for at least a few more weeks — since that’s how long the cat’s recovery might take?

Exactly that’s what she meant. And, amusingly, over time, he completely came to understand the decision.

The following weeks turned into a true marathon for both of them at work, on top of caring for a sick cat. Especially after she was discharged from the veterinary clinic and required an even stricter diet and supervision than before. And even when they did have a spare moment or day off, they preferred to spend it resting, catching their breath — not dealing with a divorce.

Because, when it came down to it, it was just a piece of paper. It didn’t mean anything. It would be a different matter if one of them were dating someone else, maybe planning a real wedding of their own — then they’d have to deal with it. But for now? No one besides them even knew it had happened, and they could simply pretend it hadn’t.

Marriage — even an unserious one (though it was, without question, a real one) — had its perks. And it wasn’t just about taxes or health insurance; it was about something Spencer had never even thought about before, because it had never concerned him. Something he now discovered with genuine surprise.

For example, the nearby gym offered a very attractive discount for married couples.

And okay, right, he didn’t go to the gym. But what if he intended to? Maybe it was a sign from the universe to take care of his fitness, which would be a smart idea considering his job? When he had access to that discount, he had fewer reasons to postpone it.

And he mostly mentioned that gym and the discount because the day he found out about it, they both happened to have the day off and he was considering taking care of the paperwork that very day. To get it over with before they got caught up in work again and put it off for another week.

He even printed the proper papers, but then he saw the gym poster and put them in the drawer for another half a month.

He remembered them when he was staring at how she was half-sitting, half-lying on the couch in his apartment with the cat on her lap, who kept hitting her in the face with its tail, making her close her eyes. Since their cat was recovering from illness, they decided not to stress her out further with constant changes of location, so for a while she would stay in his apartment. So when she wanted to spend time with Marie, she would just drop by, something he had already gotten used to.

Was this a good moment for a divorce? He had been thinking about it for over ten minutes, but finally sighed, acknowledging that they had to do it at some point anyway. What was even stopping him? A potential discount at a potential future gym? Oh, what an idiot he was.

"Since we're already here, just the two of us," he began. He waited until the woman opened her eyes and looked at him over the cat’s body, questioningly. He cleared his throat. "I have the divorce papers in the desk, we could sign them and get it over with. Then we’ll just need to file them in court..."

"Do you want to sign them now?" she asked.

He had expected more eagerness in her voice. Relief that they were finally getting out of that stupid drunken decision they had made almost two months ago. But he found none of that in her voice—instead, he watched as she doubtfully pushed out her lower lip.

"I was just about to leave," she announced. "I have a manicure in literally ten minutes. And you know, I’d rather read them first. Make sure that what you're putting in front of me is actually divorce papers and not, I don’t know. A pact to enslave me."

Spencer realized he was nodding enthusiastically.

"Completely understandable," he admitted, because her explanation really did make sense. It truly did. She had an appointment with her manicurist, and being late would be a bit disrespectful of her time. The next client would have to wait ten minutes longer. What if the next client had a booked flight to Italy for their cousin’s wedding? And had scheduled the manicure just in time and those ten minutes could make them late. Why should random strangers have to pay the price for their divorce? Besides, he genuinely supported reading documents before signing them. "So, well. Next time."

“Mhm,” she agreed with a hum, planting an aggressive kiss on Marie’s head before getting up from the couch and slipping her shoes back on. “Sure. Next time.”

She was already heading for the door, and Spencer pretended not to be watching her, but when she turned and caught his gaze, it instantly became clear that he had been following her with his eyes. She waited a moment before speaking.

“I added you to my car insurance policy. As my husband,” she said. Spencer’s eyes widened. “I figured you wouldn’t mind, especially considering how many times I’ve given you a ride to work lately. And, well, I’ll have to find out how this works in case of a divorce. Before we actually get one.”

Spencer was surprised, that’s true, but he adapted surprisingly quickly to this reality. After all, he wanted to use their marriage for a gym discount. Cheaper insurance wasn’t much different.

“All right,” he replied thoughtfully, biting the inside of his cheek. “No, actually, all right. That makes sense. We don’t have to do it today either, although, I don’t know when I’ll next have free time to sort it out.”

“Me too,” she admitted. “But someday we’ll have to do it.”

“So, are you planning a wedding anytime soon?” he asked, half joking, half earnestly hoping she wasn’t, since so far he believed she wasn’t seeing anyone. If she was, things could get complicated.

“No,” she answered seriously. “You?”

He let his shrugged arms be his silent answer to that obvious question.

They stayed silent for a moment, looking at each other. Meanwhile, someone was running late for a cousin’s wedding in Italy, but that wasn’t important right now. The question was probably burning on his tongue, but he was afraid to ask it. He wasn’t even sure if he really wanted to ask it himself.

Finally, she moved, and he panicked, thinking she was going to leave — which only confirmed to him that he really wanted to ask it. But instead of changing her position, she said, “We don’t have to get this divorce.”

He stared at her even more intensely than before, not even blinking.

“Face it, Spencer,” she continued with surprising dignity, considering what they were talking about. “It’s been two months. It hasn’t affected our lives in any way. At least not negatively, because the insurance is a plus. And neither of us really has time right now to deal with it. Sure, we could sign it, but then we’d have to file it in court…”

“So you’re suggesting we just stay married?” he asked, swallowing hard.

She nodded slowly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was doing herself.

“Until we can calmly deal with it,” she clarified. “Besides, it’s not exactly a marriage. You know what I mean. I’m suggesting we stay that way in our civil records for a while.”

“And reap the benefits,” he blurted out. “Insurance. Gym.”

“Gym?”

He shook his head, hoping she’d forget that part.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked again.

She didn’t move for a moment — he liked that she was actually taking a moment to think. Then she shrugged.

“I guess I am,” she said at last. “But if you change your mind in a few days, that’s your right. I’m not going to keep you as my husband by force,” she added with a snort.

He nodded quickly, signaling he understood.

“Same goes for you.”

They looked at each other in silence for a moment longer, searching for any doubt on each other’s faces. There was a bit of it, he couldn’t deny. But in the end, neither of them said a word.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #diva reader ♱#spence reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fluff

497 notes · View notes

niwaart · 4 months ago

Text

See what I can do.

Spoiled idiot Bruce Wayne decided to adopt another child and Jason had only been dead for a few weeks... And what did Y/N do? She burned every Robin suit in the cave except Jason's old one, to remind spoiled idiot Bruce of his mistake.. The new kid only came out as Robin twice.

Y/N stands in the park throwing all of Robin's new outfits into the fire she started. Needless to say, Bruce comes running from work to stop her. Alfred has failed and is getting tired of trying to stop Y/N. No matter how hard they try to stop her from getting in, no matter how hard they try to protect the new suits by locking the doors, putting up new codes, and putting the suits in unbreakable glass, it doesn't stop Y/N.

“Stop!!” Bruce grabbed Y/N’s wrist “That’s enough you crazy girl! You’ve crossed the line!!” Y/N smiled at Bruce’s words, angering him was her goal, and she succeeded. Richard stood silently behind Bruce… Oh yeah, Richard came home after hearing the news of Jason’s death, and decided to train the new kid to be Robin, but first they had to stop Y/N.

"Oh please tell me what are you going to do now? Are you going to hit me? Kick me out of the house? Punish me by not going out? Give me what you have, because I won't stop until you cry more pain and regret than you did over Jason, he died because of you so you have to take responsibility for your actions... so act like an adult and take what comes your way..." Y/N pushed Bruce's hand off her wrist then patted his shoulder and walked back inside the mansion, on her way back she saw the new kid hiding behind one of the walls looking at her angrily with tears of frustration filling his eyes. Y/N simply gave him a wicked smile and continued on her way without any regrets.

The next day, Bruce was standing in front of her room door telling her that he had booked her an appointment with a psychiatrist. Y/N pushed Bruce out of the way and ignored him and went to make breakfast. But Bruce stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. Y/N was about to turn around to break his arm if she hadn't felt a needle prick her neck and everything went blurry and she lost consciousness. This was Bruce's plan with everyone... Richard, Alfred, and the new kid, they all planned this...

As Y/N tried to move and wake up, her headache was severe and the room was spinning in circles. When she tried to move her hand, she found that she was tied to a chair, her hands and feet bound. She tried to speak, but her tongue was still heavy... "I see you're awake, very good. Do you need some time to get your bearings or should we start right away?" Y/N lifted her head up, the voice was familiar... Who else but that doctor who claims to know how to treat mental patients... Leslie the devil... digs lies into people's minds so that they believe her... Pretending to be a victim... But she is a devil in human form. Jason went to her several times, and every time he came back from the sessions, he came back a different person... Someone who wasn't Jason, a stranger, so she forbade Jason from going to her...

Y/N bit her tongue to speak. “I see that spoiled brat had no other solution than to send me to the devil… right?” Leslie’s eyes narrowed at Y/N’s words. “It’s not appropriate to talk about your father that way. Bruce brought you here for your own good, you have anger issues.” Leslie said as she scribbled notes in her notebook. Y/N was silent for a moment before she smiled and said, “Well… show me how you can change for the better… just to let you know before we start that me being here now is going to cause a lot of problems so I hope you enjoy it with me.” Y/N laughed as she relaxed into chair, she couldn’t wait to see Leslie Thompkins fail at her job.

And so three days passed while Leslie kept asking Y/N questions and Y/N answered them with complete honesty. This surprised Leslie. “You answer the questions with such confidence. I thought you would be stubborn and not answer…Are you planning something?” It was already the fourth day, and Y/N had been in a good mood since she arrived until now. Y/N laughed at Leslie��s words and said, “I thought you would never ask, and since today is the fourth day I will answer you. Actually, Bruce’s plan to bring me here… I knew about it before he drugged me.” Leslie was surprised by Y/N’s words but she did not believe her. “No way-..” Y/N interrupted Leslie and said, “Everything that’s happening now is part of the plan I made. Of course that spoiled brat put up security cameras all over the house, so I took advantage of that to monitor them… I had all the security cameras at my disposal from the beginning, so I knew what you and Bruce planned to do to stop me… Aren’t I a good actress? Maybe I should get an award… What do you think?” Y/N smiled mischievously at Leslie who was terrified. Leslie picked up her phone to call Bruce and confirm the matter, but Bruce wasn’t answering the calls or even the messages. She tried calling Richard, Alfred and even the new guy, but no one was answering. Leslie turned to Y/N in fear and found that Y/N had been freed from the handcuffs. “Leslie Thompkins..It's your end now.”

@crazycaoticsimp @randomlyappearingartist @ninihrtss @lovebug-apple @artistwithcreativeburnout @itsberrydreemurstuff @bellethesleepypotato @hopingtoclearmedschool @eyeless-kun @s4raahi @roseytheteacup @jsprien213 @uu-uuu

554 notes · View notes

paiges-1vur · 9 days ago

Text

She Will ~ Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, r-receiving, language

Summary: Dallas wings photographer x pb

———————————-

You were finally starting to get the hang of your new job. Maybe you lied on your job application a tiny bit, but doesn’t everybody stretch the truth sometimes? To be fully honest you had absolutely zero experience in sports photography, but you were a determined-and maybe broke- graduate fresh out of college who needed a job. Badly. So obviously you applied for the first job you found that allowed you to keep doing exactly what you loved. Thats how you ended up here, looking up from the lens of your new camera letting your gaze drift across the frame of the Paige Bueckers. You quickly snapped back into reality lifting your camera to capture her. The number one draft pick in the WNBA, just ten feet away. The two of you hadn’t talked yet this season, as she had been busy keeping up with training and taking little time off the court. Despite this you couldn’t help but think that just for a second her gaze flickered to you as she walked toward the bench, her icey blue eyes quickly tracking your frame as she grabbed a Gatorade bottle Nai was handing her. The game had just ended, the Wings finally securing another win. The air seemed to feel lighter, as pride and excitement practically radiated off the team. As you packed up your camera bag, you swore you heard Lyss and Arike joking about getting Paige piss drunk, to celebrate another long awaited win and mess with their rookie.

You sighed and leaned down to pack your camera bag, your work day finally over. The only thing that consumed your thoughts was a good night’s rest in a fancy ass hotel payed for by the team, obviously. You were lucky enough to not have to share a room like the players did but instead to have your own room just a couple doors down from the players. You quietly picked up your camera bag before waving a quick goodbye to the coaching staff, and calling an Uber to the hotel. It took everything in you to not fall asleep from exhaustion as soon as you stepped foot in the Uber, but still you held out until your driver finally made it to the hotel. As you scanned your key card against the door you sighed. And as soon as you opened the door your shoes were kicked off, and your beloved camera bag was forgotten on a nearby table. You wasted no time slipping out of your work clothes and into an old faded tshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, equipped for the best sleep of your life. The bed sheets welcomed you as you slipped into the bed, letting sleep take over your senses almost immediately.

———

You stirred in your sleep, suddenly half awake to the sound of a key card opening the door. Your mind raced, you were the only one who had the key to this room right? The door creaked open and to your surprise a still drunken Paige stumbled into the room. She payed you no mind as she let the door close behind her and she immediately fought to take her shirt off, leaving her in a sports bra and her sweats. She finally turned around and found you-half asleep and horrified- staring at her expressionless.

“How did you even-” you tried to start with Paige but she just laughed lightly. You quickly closed your mouth, letting silence fall over you both for a moment.

“When the lady asked me for my room number,” she giggled to herself “maybe I gave her the wrong one, because I lost my key!” She tries to explain, still clearly not understanding that she needed to find somewhere else to sleep. She also seemed very comfortable and had no problem standing in front of you in just a sports bra and a pair of grey sweats that hung a little too loosely on her hips. You couldn’t speak, let alone try to think of a rational solution to this situation. You turned to look at the clock. You shut your eyes out of frustration. It was 2:00 am and there was no way anyone else would be awake to help sort this out. You quickly got out of bed, the cool air hitting your thighs as you walked towards the girl. “Are any of the other girls awake? Wheres Nalyssa, she’s probably with Dijonai right?”

You suddenly stop talking as you realize the taller blonde isn’t paying attention to what your saying in the slightest. But what she does pay attention to is your bare thighs, and how your nipples hardened under your thin tshirt. Her tongue swipes across her bottom lip quickly, her mind racing. You turn around to face her but are quickly taken aback by how close she is. She steps even closer to you closing the distance completely. “I think their sleeping,” she whispers. “It’s just us” she says, her breath suddenly ghosting your ear. Shivers run down your spine and suddenly your mouth is completely dry. You can’t speak-can barely breathe- as she smirks against your ear. “But that’s okay right?” she says her voice raw and husky, needy almost. She’s begging for it and your so close to giving in. She moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear carefully. She licks her bottom lip slow and teasing as she looks you in the eye, waiting for you to do anything. All you can manage is a weak nod, but you both know what it means. She hums with approval “Thought so.” she whispers looking down at your lips, swollen from sleep. “Don’t worry,” she adds, voice raw, practically primal. Her pupils are blown wide as she whispers in your ear “I wont tell anyone.”

Suddenly her hand moves to your waist, pulling you in as your lips meet in a deep and intense kiss. She’s kissing you like your the air she needs to breathe. You whine against her lips, allowing her tongue to slide into your mouth, claiming you. She kisses you like she’s sick and your the only cure. She quickly hooks her hands under your thighs, carrying you toward the bed with ease. She sets you down on the bed, not breaking the kiss the whole time. You give her a quick nod and thats all she needs before she slides your thin shorts past your ankles and throws them somewhere across the room. “Mmm” she groans from the back of her throat, biting her lip. You squirm under her gaze but her hand steadies your thighs. “So fucking pretty. All for me.” She says leaning in to place a kiss on your inner thigh. Your pulse quickens as you lean your head back and try to relax into it. “Lemme know if you need me to stop mama, swear I will” she says looking up at you from in between your legs as she places a kiss right to your clit. Your legs shiver and you can’t help but let out a whimper at the contact. You nod quickly, biting your lip as she ran her fingers through your folds. “So fucking wet for me right now,” she says, not able to look away from her fingers as they run through your folds gently. “Bet you were waiting for me all night,” she moves her fingers to your clit using your gathered wetness to slickly make circles against your sensitive skin. “All wet and needy huh? Waiting for me to take care of you? I got u mama, promise imma make you feel good” she says as she watches your face contort in pleasure, the pressure against your clit increasing as her fingers speed up. You let out a shakey breath followed by a pathetic moan. “Please-“ she only smirks “I know, I know, shh just lay back ma.” Suddenly her fingers are gone, the pressure disappearing. She teases you entrance with her middle finger, dipping it in and sinking into you slowly. She pumps in and out of you a few times to get you used to being full before teasing your entrance again with her ring finger. Your a mess at this point, her name being said like a prayer as you beg for relief. She lets her other finger slide into you and she slowly starts to pump both fingers in and out of you, going deeper and deeper with every thrust. “Shit- Paige please- don’t stop please” you throw your head back as she continues to ram into you her pace increasing, now torturous. “Fuck, you take me so well” she groans as she watches her knuckles stretch you out, her long fingers filling you up as the veins in her hands and forearms flex.

“Wanna make you feel it all.” She moves her free hand to your lower stomach, lifting your excuse of a tshirt. She presses down on your lower stomach lightly, continuing to fuck you at a relentless pace. You can feel every inch of her fingers as she moves in and out of you, fucking you senseless “Holy shit- Paige, Paige please I’m close” you moan out, begging to come undone. “Almost mama, just wait” she says earning a raw and high pitched whine from you. Somehow her pace increases, filthy and wet noises filling the room as her thumb moves to find your clit, circling it as she fucks you. Your vision starts to blur, overwhelmed with pleasure as your legs start to shake. You are chanting her name, voice raw from screaming and begging for more, for all of her. Neither of you had a care in the world who could hear. Right now it was just you and Paige. “Let go for me” she says as your release crashes through you. A wave of pleasure rips through your whole body and you come while screaming her name. As start to come down she works you through it, her fingers slowing before your whining from overstimulation. She slowly moves her fingers from you to her mouth, licking them clean while keeping eye contact. She hums “Fucking delicious” she says, pussy drunk as she pushes you hair out of your face, stuck with sweat.

She shifts from on top of you to lie down next to you pulling the covers over you gently. She climbs under the covers, kicking off her sweats leaving her in just her sports bra and a pair of boxers. “Rest now, we can sort things out in the morning.” She reassures you, placing a soft kiss to your temple before wrapping her arm around your waist and pulling you flush against her. You both drift to sleep with ease holding each other, enjoying your own little world together

373 notes · View notes

livinginshambles · 2 years ago

Text

Hear me out, please |James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: The aftermath of when James found out you were his 'cinderella'. James tries desperately to get your attention to get you to hear him out. A tiny twist.

Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Timeline might be a little off, but magic so whatever i guess? Sorry for the long wait, I hope you guys will think it was worth it!!

Masterlist Part one Part two

___________________________________

A lot of things went through James' mind as he stood there in the Great Hall. You could hear a pin drop before Regulus finally shot into action and dashed out the hall to go after you.

The murmuring started to continue now that the first silence had been disturbed.

"Oh gosh, she's so dramatic," your sister laughed. And she put a hand on James' shoulder to pull him back to his seat.

James turned his head slowly. His attention zeroed in on the hand on his shoulder. He coiled away.

"What the fuck have you done," he spat at her.

Marla's eyebrows shot up. "We did you a favour," she stated, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

It sent James over the edge. He grabbed her upper arm and harshly shook it.

"A favour? A favour!?" He asked incredulously. His voice raised in volume. "What on earth is wrong with you!" He screamed and looked around; his eyes blown out. "With all of you!"

"You mean what the hell is wrong with you, James?" Your other sister, Alyssa, piped up. "Why are you defending her?" That last word was spat out with so much disgust that it opened finally James' eyes to what you must have endured. He fought the urge to slap her expression off her face.

James let go of Marla's arm and pushed her a few steps back while doing so.

No, he needed to fix this. He just had to. If you would just listen to him, he would explain it all. And then he'd protect you. From every hurtful comment out there.

If you would just let him.

"Regulus," James grimaced. The boy was blocking his path and view, standing in the doorway. You were out of sight, or at least out of James's sight.

"Potter," Regulus curtly nodded at him.

"I need to talk to her."

"You've said plenty."

James 'brows furrowed, and his jaw flexed. Why was everyone deciding everything for him all of a sudden? Why couldn't everyone just mind their own bloody business? If they had, none of this would have occurred.

He would be patrolling with you in the evening, and you would make him laugh about one of your dry remarks. He wouldn't have known that it was you who he was looking for, but in time, maybe he would've figured it out. Or maybe he would've pushed his mystery girl to the back of his mind to let you and all the new feelings in.

"Actually, I haven't. I haven't said enough because everyone is saying things in my place instead. But I never got the chance to say what I want to say, and every time I do, it seems too late. I just want to talk to her." The words flew out of James' mouth, built up regret, anger, and disappointment from how things had escalated.

"Perhaps you haven't said much." Regulus looked James up and down and weighed his words carefully. "And maybe that's part of the problem. But right now, she's certainly heard enough. She doesn't want your grand words."

James closed his eyes in frustration. He wanted to protest, he wanted to scream at himself and pull his hair out, but ultimately, he just wanted yet another chance.

He hadn't expected it to be you. Not at all, but the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense, and the more it seemed... right. And he didn't know why he had been so adamant to form some sort of relationship with you, but the way his heart blossomed when you were around only pulled him further in.

James looked at the ground, as if the solution to his problems would be written down there.

"Okay," he relented.

Without a moment of hesitation, Regulus went to slam the door in his face but stopped at the box that James held put to him.

"What's that supposed to be?" He flatly asked James.

With a heavy heart, James showed Regulus the pair of glass slippers that you had left behind at the Yule ball, and that he had so carefully carried around with him.

James searched for his words his. "I've been holding on to these to return them to their owner," he made an attempt at a smile but dropped it, feeling pathetic. He wondered if he looked as pathetic to Regulus as well.

"Well, I suppose I should return them, now that I've found her." James pushed the box into Regulus' hands, threw one glance past the boy in hopes to catch a glimpse of you, and rubbed his face with both hands as he dejectedly walked away from the Slytherin dormitory.

Perhaps he could try again later.

You stared at the glass slippers in your hand. It felt cool to the touch and looked so beautiful, but you couldn’t help the bitter taste left in your mouth. With one smooth movement, you threw and smashed one of the slippers against the wall opposite of your bed. It shattered in pieces, and you had to smile at that. Even with every spell to reenforce the glass so you could actually walk on it, it broke. Then you gathered every bit of frustration you had in you, and you screamed as hard as you could, tears flowing in frustration.

You hated that you were crying. But the sheer defeat and powerlessness that you felt was too overwhelming, your voice cracked mid-scream and you threw the other slipper to pieces in anger as well. It wasn’t even about the gossiping amongst the students anymore.

You were so tired; you actually couldn’t bring yourself to care about what everyone must be thinking right now. But your sisters and James. You dug your nails into your palm.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror and straightened your posture. With your hands, you smoothed out your frown, fixed your hair and put on a wide smile. All in all, you looked psychopathic, but anything was better than pathetic. You turned on your heel and got ready for your first morning class.

James watched your empty seat in Divination class. This was the only class in which the last two years were put together. He wondered if you would show up. But he knew you. Possible more than anyone. So, he knew that you would never miss a class, because you wanted perfect grades and a perfect attendance rate. You were just like that. Ambitious.

James mind replayed your words again. He was every worst characteristic of Gryffindor; you had said to him. ‘Arrogant, prideful, and reckless’.

Next to James, Sirius was also lost in thoughts. Your words resonated in his head as well. Prejudice creates a vicious cycle. It was true. Sirius’ eyes flickered towards the other empty seat where Regulus was supposed to be. He had completely abandoned Regulus, giving his brother the cold shoulder, and despising his elitist thoughts, undoubtedly created by his mother. Because he had abandoned Regulus.

Sirius wondered what would have happened if he had tried to maintain a good relationship with Regulus after having been sorted into Gryffindor. He wondered if he would have been able to convince Regulus to run away with him.

There was a knock on the door and Regulus walked in with a blank face. He nodded his head in apology at the Professor and took a seat. The door opened again, this time with a little more force.

“My sincere apologies, professor.” You wore a smile that sent chills up James’ back. His body almost involuntarily shot up to go up to you, but he caught himself, and he longingly looked at you as you passed by instead.

After having gotten used to your discrete gestures of acknowledgement in the form of waves, smiles, nods or even winks, James’ heart tugged when you didn’t spare him a glance. You graciously took a seat and motioned at Professor Trelawney to continue.

James jumped up when class was over. His belongings had long since been packed, and he dashed towards your leaving figure.

“Y/N!” he called out to you.

You turned around and looked him in the eye. All the words that James had prepared during the rest of class escaped his mind. James felt those chills again and he finally understood that in all his years with fights between the two of you, you had been petty, threatening to take points away. You had been angry, throwing insults back at him, and you had very much been a major asshole in general. But you had never been this hostile.

“Let me say this once, so we can all be done with it, and never talk about this again, Potter,” you sharply stated. “I am sorry that I wasn’t who you wanted me to be. However, let me make it clear that this was my secret and mine to share. And I made perfectly clear that I was not going to, so your blatant disrespect to publicly call me out the way you did, is simply appalling.”

Remus called James’ name and James made the mistake to look back. When he turned to you again, you were already further down the hall, turning the corner with a steady pace.

James didn’t see you around anymore until Thursday morning. His eyes basically lit up and he repeated his apology in his head. “L/N, wait,” James tried, and he chased after you. Unlike last time, you didn’t stop. Curious students watched you two pass while James tried to match your pace.

“Hear me out, please.”

“I said all I wanted to say, Potter. Let’s stay out of each other’s way from now on.”

“After you let me explain,” James pleaded.

You laughed. “Nothing you tell me will change my mind. I won’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth.” You gave him an annoyed look.

Still, James was not planning on giving up. You weren’t the only determined one here. He grabbed your arm and dragged you into a room. Your eyes squinted and gave him the dirtiest look they could. James immediately let go of you, hands up in defence, a string of apologies following suit.

You glared at him and went to walk straight out of the room when James pulled you back again, and this time, he cupped the sides of your face, and pressed his lips to yours.

For a moment, you hesitated, utterly confused and surprisingly rather okay with the unwarranted kiss. And then anger hit you. Did he bloody think this would woo you, and sweep you off your feet and make everything alright? How dare he kiss you in attempt to manipulate you. You slapped him across the face in shock less than a second later. James blinked back at you in horror at his own actions.

“Godric, no- I- I am so bloody sorry, I shouldn’t have- I’m- I don’t know what went through my head, please wait-” You slammed the door in his face when you left. James hit his head softly against the door. And then he hit it again but a bit harder as he cursed. “What the hell is wrong with you mate,” he groaned to himself. “You bloody git.”

He stared at the dark wood of the door in front of him reluctantly. To be honest, he wouldn’t mind just staying in the room to rot away, how was he going to face you now?

“Lily, please go in my place,” he begged the redhead. “I’ll take your Tuesday shift, I promise.”

Lily shook her head. “Stop being a baby, James. You reap what you sow and I’m not patrolling tonight.” She walked past James and then turned back around.

“Some friendly advice, James, stop being so pushy. No is no, and it might have been cute as 11-year-olds, but not anymore. We’re no longer kids. But good luck.”

James reluctantly dragged himself towards the Great Hall where he could see you pick your nails in front of the door. He felt ashamed, guilty, and absolutely not ready to look you in the eye.

“Hi,” he awkwardly managed. “So about-“

“You’re late. Let’s get a move on it.” You cut him off.

“Right, yeah, we should do that- patrolling.”

It was quiet, not a word spoken between the two of you as James trailed half a step behind you. He glanced at the side of your face. Shadows and light flickered across your face every time you passed a torch.

The silence of the castle did him good, he realised. He’d much rather walk in silence next to you, than be in the midst of all that chaos that was going on right now. He smiled and stuffed his hands in his pocket happily.

“What are you smiling about,” you asked, a frown on your face.

“Hm? What? Oh, sorry.” The smile dropped of James’ face.

“Well, you don’t have to stop smiling because I said so,” you shot him a strange look. “I just wanted to know what’s so funny.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” A beat. And then, “Lily told me to stop trying to apologise to you if you don’t want to hear it.”

You considered his words. You supposed you mostly wanted someone to be angry at. You didn’t want to hear James out and then maybe see that your anger was misdirected. You wanted to stay bitter.

“I don’t.”

“Okay, well, I’ll stop.”

“Good.”

Despite the fact that he hadn’t been able to apologise, and nothing had been cleared up between the two of you, both of you felt yourselves relax a little more. You continued to roam the corridors in silence.

The next three patrols were spent in the same basked silence, occasionally one or two words exchanged. James had so many things he wanted to tell you, but he didn’t want to ruin anything. And then you suddenly spoke up again.

“Good luck tomorrow.”

James perked up at your words. “Thank you,” he grinned at you gratefully. “Are you going to watch the game?”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll be helping out in the infirmary.”

“Did you finish your herbal research then?”

Your eyes flickered up at him in surprise. “Yeah, Madame Pomfrey and I will put it to test.” James nodded along.

“Well, if you ever need a patient, I’d volunteer,” he joked. He watched in triumph as you shook your head in amusement.

“Better check your broom for hexes tomorrow,” you replied. “wouldn’t want you to fall off your broom and break a bone or two.” James snorted.

You pulled the curtain to the side with an exasperated expression. “I was only kidding Yesterday, Potter. What on earth are you doing here.”

James gave you a weak smile, trying to hide the pain in his arm and ribs. “Volunteering to be your very first patient, of course.”

“Tell me you didn’t break your bones on purpose,” you squinted your eyes at him.

“I didn’t break my bones on purpose,” James obediently replied. He shifted in curiosity as you rummaged through a cabinet. “Is this not fixable with any spells?” He pondered when he saw you pull out several vials.

“Externally, yes. But you’d be in the same excruciating pain as if they were still broken. You motioned towards the vials. “Hence the herbal potions.”

“Is that the one with the Nettle and Dittany?” James nodded his head to the bottle on the left.

You hummed in approval, not bothering to hide the fact that you were impressed. “Who knows, Potter. Maybe you have a future of a healer as well.” James beamed in pride at your compliment.

“Just keeping my options open.” James sighed happily. He was glad that he could joke around with you again. You tapped a bottle against his cheek. He let you pour the potion into his mouth.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait.” You pulled out a stool and sat down with a notebook in case you needed to take notes of the effects of the potion. At one point, you must have fallen asleep with your face buried on James’ infirmary bed. A strand of hair was tickling your nose and you huffed to get it out of the way. James shifted to tuck it away with his non-injured hand.

You opened your eyes and jumped up. You looked around disoriented and when your eyes landed on James, who had tilted his head, you felt embarrassment creep up on you. “I’m terribly sorry, that was unprofessional of me. Are you feeling any better?”

James nodded. He sat up to prove it, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “All better. And if you get to apologise, so do I, right?” He looked at you hopefully, internally praying that you wouldn’t just march out straight away. “Will you hear me out?”

You sighed, knowing what would come next, but this time you sat down on the stool again instead of walking away.

“I didn’t know.” When you didn’t respond, he repeated himself. “I didn’t know it was you, and I didn’t know it was going to be published in the newspaper because I wouldn’t do that- you know that I wouldn’t.”

He looked at you and saw you staring back at him. He took it as a sign to continue and cleared his throat. It felt so dry all of a sudden. You quietly reached for a cup of water and handed it to him. James took a sip, a deep breath, and started to ramble on without breaks.

“Sirius found your parchment and then you sisters found it too, but I didn’t. I really didn’t. Sirius said they had already run off and he tried to fix it on his own, so he didn’t tell me, and I only found out right before you did and I would never have written such a mean article about you, because we’re friends- well, at the very least I considered us friends- and I just wanted you to like me because-” James stopped.

“What, you fancy me?” you rhetorically commented.

James’ heart stopped and his face flushed. “No, of course not! I just- Well, I don’t know- It’s, uh I guess I just,” James tried to form a coherent answer, trying to weigh what answer would scare you away.

You frowned and let your eyes flicker across his face. “Stop it,” you shook your head in denial.

“Would it be so bad?” James murmured. “I didn’t know. But I know I liked the girl behind the paper. And I know I liked my patrol partner.” He hesitated and took a step forward. “I think you liked me too, before you knew my name.”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Before I knew your name. Once I learned it, I no longer did,” you lied. “Because we would never work. Every student said so. All the whispers and comments, insults and rumour were right.”

James shook his head.

“So, date me to spite them. Prove them wrong,” It was a pathetic attempt, but he saw the consideration flash in your eyes, and the more he thought about it, the more he started to get convinced that this was a decent idea.

“You’d have us enter a fake relationship to spite everyone?”

“It wouldn’t be fake to me,” James shrugged, getting more confident by your open attitude. “And who knows, maybe I can convince you that the guy from the paper is still inside of me.”

“This is so stupid,” you shook your head.

“Guess what,” Sirius asked Remus, he covered the page of the book Remus was reading to capture his attention.

Remus slapped Sirius’ hand away. “What,” he replied curtly. Sirius moved to sit on the table of the library. “Are you angry?”

“Mildly annoyed, yes.”

“Because…” Sirius trailed off unsurely. He hoped that Remus would finish the sentence for him, which, luckily for Sirius, Remus did.

“Because I think it’s time you guys stop pestering her. I know you planned to get James in the infirmary. Leave her be, you’ve done enough damage as it is.” He sounded disapproving. Sirius dropped himself back on the table, laying across it as if he was a sacrifice on an altar.

“Prongs likes her.”

“Yeah? Well, he’s handling it terribly,” Remus drily remarked. He took off his glasses and started to wipe them with the hem of his sweater. Sirius patted his pockets, reached into his left one and handed Remus a cleaning cloth for glasses.

“Why are you guys nice to me,” Remus asked quietly.

“What are you talking about Moony, you’re our best friend?”

“I know, but why?” Remus lowered his voice. “I’m a werewolf, aren’t I? I’m a literal monster. So why are you nice to me. But somehow feel the need to keep pranking and bullying Slytherin students? We’re in our last year. Don’t you think we should grow up?” And with ‘we’, he meant ‘Sirius and James’.

‘I know, Moony.”

“Do you now?”

“I think I’m going to talk to Regulus.”

Remus choked on his spit. “I’m sorry, Pads, you’re what?”

“I just don’t want to be like L/N’s siblings. I know I sort of am, but I don’t want to be. And you said we should start being nicer right?”

“Pads, last time you said something to him, he literally hexed you.”

“I insulted him,” Sirius heard himself say and he felt weird for a moment.

“He’s after your ass during every Quidditch game, trying to knock you off your broom.”

“Well, that’s just the point of Quidditch,” Sirius defended again.

Remus smiled at Sirius. “Alright, just be careful. Mid-terms are coming up and I’m too busy with studies to fix you up again.”

Sirius grinned. “If all goes well with Prongs, I could ask L/N to patch me up.” Remus threw a quill at him. “I think I’ll go find L/N later, see if she knows where my brother is.”

The door opened and Remus looked behind him. He did a double take and put his glasses back on to make sure he was seeing things correctly. Sirius was still laying on the table, looking at the ceiling.

“I think I’ve found her,” Remus remarked, uncertainly.

Sirius sat up and gaped at the sight on you and James, walking into the library together while talking. James was holding a pile of books and by the colour of the cover, he knew that those were not James’.

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

You looked up in alarm at the words and found Sirius and Remus sitting at a table in the corner. “We talked it out,” you nonchalantly mentioned. Remus gave you a smile and Sirius just stared at you. Then; “Hell yeah, Prongs, I knew you had it in you to confess.” Sirius jumped off the table and patted you on the back with a grin.

You laughed back uncertainly and looked at James with questioning eyes. James looked back at you, reassuringly. He moved all of your books to one hand and guided you to a seat with the other.

“Where’s Regulus,” Sirius asked immediately as soon as you sat down.

You raised your eyebrows. “He’s in the astronomy tower. Didn’t want to join James and I to the library.” You smiled at recollection of the younger Black’s reaction to you and James.

“No way.” He had replied. “What are you two planning?” James had looked at Regulus with an offended look. “What are you talking about? I fancy Y/N and she fancies me, so we decided to make it official.”

“Yeah, I’ll believe you fancy Y/N, but there is just no way she would enter a relationship with you of all people. What’s the deal.”

Sirius nodded. “Well,” he started, “I mean, if he wants to, he uh, the library is a public space, so he could join. If he wants.” Sirius awkwardly sat down on a chair. You squinted your eyes at him. “I’ll be sure to let him know,” you said. You watched as Sirius puffed out a sigh in relief.

You glanced down at the messy scribbles on Sirius’ paper and raised your eyebrows. You’d imagined that the elder Black would have a better handwriting than that. “Anyway, do you need help with Transfiguration as well?”

The news of your relationship spread like fire. Your sisters both received it with a sour look on their faces. “He’ll see we were right, and he’ll leave you again,” they said, purposely loud enough for you to hear it. James had just entered the room and walked straight past them towards you with a flower. He dropped it next to you and sat down beside you.

Against your will, your heart made a small jump and the corners of your mouth tugged upwards. James’ eyes flickered towards your lips and quickly looked away happily. Then he leaned in a little and whispered, “We’re not breaking up if it’s up to me.”

He shifted in his seat, subtly scooting over closer to you. “Go on a date with me tonight,” James whispered.

“We don’t have time tonight. Patrol, remember?” You argued back.

James grinned and shook his head. “Afterwards.”

“It’s past bedtime afterwards. I will not-”

“Sneak around the castle and get caught, I know. But you forget that I have an invisibility cloak.”

You laughed this time. “I’m almost tempted to take 20 points off Gryffindor for your outrageous plan.” Your eyes twinkled and James joined in. He put his hand over his heart in fake shock. “You wouldn’t do that to your boyfriend,” he squinted his eyes, challenging you.

“If he misbehaves,” you answer amusedly. But then you hummed in thought. “Fine, I’ll bite, what do you have in mind.”

James’ grin widened. “The lake’s still frozen,” he whispered. You deadpanned. “I can’t skate.”

James leaned his head against you. “Exactly, it’s the perfect chance for me to show you my gentlemanly skills and woo you.” You turned your head and breathed in the smell of James’ shampoo. "You just want an excuse to hold my hand," you mumbled in his hair. You could feel James smile against your shoulder. “I’m your boyfriend, I don’t need excuses,” he joked.

James swore his heartrate sped up an unhealthy amount when you confirmed, “No you don’t.”

He was absolutely beaming next to you as you were patrolling down the corridor, hand in hand. Your eyes flickered over to James once in a while. It was suspicious to you that he’d been quiet the entire time. James on the other hand was just looking at your intertwined hands with interest.

“Never held hands with a girl before, Potter?” You laughed, but no venom was found in your voice.

James nodded. “Never held hands with a girl before,” he confirmed, not ashamed at all for it. Why should he. You looked at him with curiosity. “What about Lily?”

James snorted. “Have you ever seen us hold hands?”

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’.

“I was stressing a lot about being a good boyfriend, my hands got really sweaty,” James bashfully explained. You lifted both your hands and squeezed his hand a few times. “You don’t stress about being a good boyfriend for me?” you couldn’t help but ask. You immediately groaned internally and looked straight to the floor, intently watching your feet as they simply fascinatingly put one in front of the other. I mean, have you ever seen something so-. James wasn’t having it.

“’m not stressing with you. I have a pretty good feeling about us.” He sighed contently. You huffed. “Well, I have high standards, and I’ve been told I’m pretty high maintenance, Potter.” You stuck your nose in the air haughtily.

“First, you should stop calling me Potter,” he remarked.

“James,” you nodded. A chill ran up his spine. “And second?” you inquired.

“Second?”

“Second,” you looked at him expectantly.

“Oh! Right, second; I didn’t know you had a relationship before?” And just as soon as those words left his lips, he cussed himself out in his head. Great, now he seemed either a twat as if he couldn’t believe someone like you could have a relationship, or a twat who was jealous and obsessive. And it’s only the first week. James averted his eyes to the wall on his left. Ah yes, the wall seems to be made of stone. Very sturdy, very wall-like-

“No, I’ve been single pretty much my whole life.” You put on your usual sour face, and vaguely gestured to it. “Not very approachable, as I prefer.”

“Then who calls you high maintenance?” James thought bitterly, feeling the need to defend you. “Calm down, prince Charming,” you reassured him with a laugh. Maybe you could see the charm in his recklessness. “I can fight my own battles. And basically, everyone calls me high maintenance.”

The two of you walked side by side in silence again, making your way to the prefect room. You rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a document and started to fill it in. James leaned against the table. “Where do you go during Spring Break? Do you stay at Hogwarts? Because I can also stay at Hogwarts to keep you company, you know.”

“I have my own apartment.”

“You’re not even of age yet,” James pointed out, trying to hide his disappointment unsuccessfully at a missed opportunity of spending time with you.

“Professor McGonagall vouched for me,” you replied. James’ eyebrows flew up. “McGonagall?” He asked in disbelief. You just hummed in reply while you flipped the page to continue filling in the report.

“Well, if you want you can come with me?” You stopped writing and looked up at him intently. As if you were searching his face for any hidden intentions. When you didn’t find any, you gave him an apologetic look.

“That’s kind of you, James,” you smiled. “But I have Regulus staying with me.”

“He doesn’t stay at the Black manor?” James was surprised. You tilted your head. “Tell me, does Sirius stay at the Black manor?”

James quickly shut his mouth as realization dawned on him. Oh.

“Well,” he awkwardly shifted. “You’re both welcome,” he offered. You shook your head in laughing at the mental image. The thought of Regulus and Sirius living together for two weeks was just hilarious.

“I’m done, we can go.”

“Alright, I just need to pick up my invisibility cloak from the Gryffindor common room.”

“I’ll wait here,” you nodded. James offered you a strange look.

“What?” You asked, looking up at him.

“You’re not going with me?”

“What all the way up to the third floor? I think not,” you snorted, plopping down on a chair, and making yourself comfortable.

James huffed and didn’t move. “But what if something happens to me on the way there?” He dramatically sat down next to you on a different chair.

“What on earth could happen to you on the way to your room. This is Hogwarts, you know. The safest place in England probably.”

“What if a monster attacks me, and then I can’t come back, and you’ll think that I stood you up?” James retorted with a pout.

You shook your head and pinched the bridge of you nose. “There are no monsters in this castle, James, where do you think we are? You’re not going to run into a Basilisk on your way.”

James squinted his eyes at you. “But can you promise me that with 100% certainty?” You rolled your eyes in response. “Of course not, but would you take me with you and expose me to such dangers?” you sarcastically retorted.

“Well, technically speaking, and I’m not saying all Slytherins,” James held up his hands at your narrowed eyes. “Snakes are kind of your thing, right?” You closed your eyes. “Charming, you are. Let’s just go,” you sighed.

James grinned in victory as he held the door open for you. “For the record, I would totally protect you from a Basilisk.”

“If you say so.”

Sirius sat up in bed when the door opened, but no one came in. “Hey Prongs, how was ice skating?”

James removed the invisibility cloak to reveal your shivering form. Both of you drenched from head to toe, water still dripping from the locks in front of his eyes. “Got pulled under,” he stressed. “I didn’t know where to take her, I couldn’t let her clean record be tainted for being out past bedtime because of me, and I don’t know the Slytherin password, so I brought her here,” he started to ramble in a loud whisper.

Remus grumbled as he sat up too. “Bloody hell, Prongs, did you take her to the black lake or what?” And when James didn’t respond, “Mate, what is wrong with you.” He got up and walked to the bathroom to get a few dry towels to wrap you in.

James discarded his soaked clothes and dried himself off before putting on pyjamas. Then the three of them stared awkwardly at each other. “Well, she needs to get out of those cold clothes,” Remus remarked. Sirius stepped back. “Yeah, not my girl, not my duty,” he walked over to his bed and dropped down on it.

“Right.”

You woke up and the first thing you noticed was the red colours all around you. You sat up suddenly and blinked a few times. What happened? Oh, right. A hand had broken through the ice, wrapped itself around your ankle and harshly pulled you down into the freezing depths. So that means you’re either dead, or James got you out and brought you to the Gryffindor dorms instead of the infirmary because he kept your clean records in mind. Your heart filled with appreciation at the thought of that.

You looked around and found James on the floor next to you. He was curled up in an extra blanket, but it must be uncomfortable. You went to pull out your wand when you realised that you were wearing his sweater. The little shit changed your clothes, you huffed.

You quietly got up, found your clothes drying in the bathroom and slipped out your wand. With a quick levitation spell, you gently tucked James back into his own bed. Your eyes fell on the two parchments on the nightstand, and you allowed a nostalgic smile to adorn your face. You moved his hair out of the way and let your eyes rest on his peaceful face. Realising you were being creepy, you hastily turned around and snuck out of the room with your clothes and a rolled-up parchment.

“And where have you been,” Regulus sat on the common room armchair in front of the door. He looked like he hadn’t properly slept, and his tone was sharp. “And what atrocity are you wearing. Tell me you didn’t sleep with him?”

“You’re my brother, Regulus, not my mother,” you teased him. You pulled out a chair to sit next to him. “And no, I went skating, fell into the water, blacked out and woke up alive in the Gryffindor dorm. So don’t hex James, if anything you can thank him.”

There was a beat of silence. “I’m glad you’re okay, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you. Did you stay up all night?”

“Yes, but mostly because I wanted to tell you something.” You didn’t immediately reply, waiting for Regulus to continue on his own instead.

“Sirius came up to the astronomy tower yesterday evening,” he quietly said. His voice sounded confused, as if he was still unsure of what had actually occurred.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, I’m okay,” Regulus immediately said. “It’s just that he apologized.” He shrugged. “You think he meant it?”

You thought it over. “I think he did. He asked me last week you know. Where you are, and that if you ever want to join us in the library, you can.” Regulus nodded deep in thought.

“You know, James actually invited both of us over for the Spring Break.” You looked at Regulus to gauge his reaction to that. He looked slightly interested, though he tried to hide it.

“I suppose it’s still a month away, so we’ll see what we want then.”

You nodded and then got up off the chair. “I’m going to change into something else, before my fellow house students want to jinx me,” you said.

“You’re dating James Potter; people already want to jinx you.”

You winked at him. “Well, I’ll be damned, you’re absolutely right. Isn’t that funny? You know what, let them try,” you challenged them as you smoothened James’ sweater.

James woke up and sat up straight in bed, confused. How did he get here? He Looked at the end of his bed and saw it still neatly tucked in- hospital corners. His lips twitched up. You had left, he realised, but you’d tucked him in. He let himself fall back onto his pillow and turned his head to the side. Then he frowned, put on his glasses, and grabbed the parchment. In your lovely handwriting was a message.

Maybe not a Basilisk, but you protected me as you said. Thank you, James. (All things considered, I enjoyed last night.)

James’ eyes traced the words before he carefully placed the parchment under his pillow with a giddy feeling in his heart.

James found you in the library with Remus. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that you were still wearing his sweater. Red looked out of place on you and James absolutely loved it. Sirius shared a look with him and then the both of them decided to sneak up on the two of you, simultaneously stealing your books from under you.

You and Remus narrowed your eyes at the both of them. “I am this close to kicking you guys.” You held up your hand to show your thumb and finger pressed together. James shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “But they’re touching,” he hesitantly responded. Sirius elbowed him in the ribs and quickly handed Remus both your books back.

You sarcastically faked a gasp. “Oh, Merlin, you’re right, they appear to be.”

James cheekily grinned and pressed a kiss to your temple. “You wouldn’t hurt your knight in shining armour,” he bragged, but without any real arrogance laced in his tone. You flipped him off with a grin and pulled out a chair for him next to you. “You’re late,” you airily said.

Sirius suddenly straightened up, his attention fixed on someone behind you. You turned around and waved Regulus over. “Come join us, Reg.”

Three weeks flew by in a blur, but- even though you’ve said this so often now- your were really enjoying your time at Hogwarts again. People’s gossips and predictions about yours and James’ relationship had turned into quiet whispers and envy.

James stood up for you on multiple occasions- after letting you have a go at the imbeciles of course. You had finally gone to a Quidditch game to support James, though of course not when they were playing against Slytherin. You had spent more time in the infirmary and James had joined you a few times by hanging out on one of the empty beds, occasionally handing you an ingredient such as Wolfsbane.

After having established that you absolutely loved hugs, James was always less that a step behind you, ready to give you the affection that you were too proud for to admit you wanted. You had been a frequent visitor to the boys’ dorms as well, making yourself comfortable in James’ arms as you dozed off for a nap. On other nights, you have even managed to persuade Regulus to join a handful of times as well. You wondered what would happen when James would graduate before you, but tried not to think much of it.

“So, we are definitely going to Hogsmeade together this week, right?” James popped up behind you and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“How scandalous, are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah, why? You have a boyfriend or something?” James humoured you.

“Or something,” you joked. The innocent comment hit both you and James at the same time. A reminder that you two were in fact technically not really dating. You shook the thought away.

“I’ll see you at 11 o’clock,” you replied.

James grinned, “I’ll be there five minutes earlier.”

True to his words, he was waiting for you in the courtyard when you arrived on the dot. James offered you his arm and you linked yours through his.

“James?” James hummed in reply. “Does your offer about Spring Break still stand? I mean, I know it’s next week already, and it’s sort of short notice-”

James perked up. “Yes!” he said, a little too quickly and enthusiastic. He cleared his throat and lowered his volume. “Yes, you and Regulus can still come.”

You sighed and nodded in relief. “Right, because Reg and I have been talking and we might take you up on that offer.”

It was evening by the time you and James made your way back to Hogwarts. James had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you held his hand. James pressed a kiss to your temple every now and then. “What happened to the glass slippers?” He suddenly asked.

“They broke.”

“They broke?”

“Yep.”

“But didn’t you enchant them?”

“I did, but I was so angry at you that I smashed them to pieces against the wall like over two months ago.”

“Oh… But have you changed your mind since then?” James decided to finally ask you.

“About what?”.

“Me, and us.”

You looked at James and quietly admired him. James kept his eyes straight in front of him, too scared to look at you and see your reaction.

“Well, we are walking together, coming back from Hogsmeade. There’s not a student in sight and yet we are still holding hands,” You light-heartedly replied with a teasing smile. You squeezed his hand for good measure. It seemed enough to make James look at you.

“I’d say we’re pretty good friends-”

“I’m in love with you.”

You froze in your tracks and let go of James’ hand. Well, that took you by surprise. Fancying someone and claiming to be in love with someone- not loving but being in love- that was a next level. You smiled amusedly, successfully hiding your insecurities. “James, you’re not in love with me.”

James frowned at your response. He’d accept your rejection, but not you doubting his feelings.

“Yes, I am,” he stubbornly responded.

“No, you’re not,” you retorted, equally stubborn.

“Am too.”

“You’re not, James,” you exasperatedly said. “You’re not in love, you just fancy me because you’re comfortable.” You shrugged awkwardly. "And you only feel comfortable with me because I know so much about you. Because you poured your heart out to a stranger, and it so happened to be me.”

James bit his cheek, considering your words. Then he grinned and nodded. Your heart dropped, but not as much as it could have, because you had already prepared yourself for this. The joy behind setting yourself up for disappointment by never letting yourself get your hopes up.

“Yeah, I’m really comfortable with you.” He agreed. “Isn’t that great? Isn’t that love too? Being comfortable to the point you don’t feel the need to keep secrets anymore, where you feel the most accepted? The most at ease?”

You stared at James then cleared your throat. “So, when did you start being all knowledgeable and romantic?”

James snorted. You were adorable when you were awkward. “I’m the most comfortable with you,” he earnestly confessed to you. He carefully, as if to not scare you away, put a step forward and reached for your hand. He squeezed it softly. I mean it.

James felt you pull your hand back and bit his lip, forcing it to curl up into an accepting smile. “Right,” he cleared his throat as he tried to form a reply. But you weren’t done yet. You pulled back your hand and then threw both your arms around James’ neck as your brought him in a tight hug. You dipped your head down into the crook of his neck.

“And I’m the most vulnerable with you,” you mumbled against his skin. James sighed in relief, happiness, and love. He wrapped his arms around you protectively, as if to shield you in response.

You tilted your head sideways as you looked at James who was in front of you, down on one knee in your garden. James looked beautiful. His cheeks were slightly coloured from the cold and his hands held a small box with a ring.

“Love?” He asked, waving his hand in front of you, trying to get your attention. He didn’t sound nervous at all, in fact, he felt the most relaxed he’d ever been. This was definitely the future he’d imagined when he’d watched you laugh with his dad while bringing in the groceries. “My knee is getting numb from the cold, love. So, if you could just say yes or no,” he cheekily grinned.

You hummed in thought and then you replied, “Well, isn’t marriage a little too soon?” Your grin widened and spread across your face. “I mean, you’ve yet to officially ask me to be your real girlfriend.”

“Wait what-”

The end :)

Taglist:

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @shrekscrustybudassy @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sakuyoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @moonyunebi @caspianobsessed @kquil @moonys-luvr @mindflay3r @magpiesworld @my-beloved-fandoms @papichulo120627 @nokkoongie @sbrewer21 @helloitsmeeeeeee @clumsyassbitch @lovelyteenagebeard @joeytribbiani18 @littlemisslovestoread @princesskittycatofmeowland

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter angst #james potter fluff #marauders era #marauders #james potter fanfiction #marauders x reader #james potter fanfic #young james potter x reader #young james potter #marauder x reader

3K notes · View notes

thestraprider · 5 months ago

Text

fuck. paige mentally cursed inside her head.

why did you have to be so fucking pretty?

both of your chests were rising up and down in rapid breaths, necks covered in marks as paige’s lips went to your harden nipples, the prettiest shade of pink she had ever seen as her teeth sunk into it, pinching the other between her pointer and middle finger.

you let out a whimper as paige continued to nip your chest, you arched your back as you weakly pushed her shoulders. “fuck you, paige.” you breathly muttered, “i told you not to leave goddamn marks… i have to—ah, meet my friends later!”

“yeah?” paige’s voice was muffled against your skin, moving her lips up to pepper kiss the skin of your chest as she sped up the pace of her hips. her strap that was hitting every part of your inside for the past hour had caused your body to limp on the mattress, gasping for air and crying out her name. “there are only two solutions for that, ma.”

you hate to admit it to yourself, but paige was the only one who can fuck you like this. splitting you open, fucking you so good that you felt your whole body and mind were melting. you bit your lower lip to stifle a scream when paige angled her hips a bit, bullying your weaker spots.

tears were threatening in the corner of your eyes as you felt a warm breath on your neck. paige softly kissed your earlobe, “first, just show it to them. let them know that i’m the one who’s making you feel this good because your batshit ex-boyfriend couldn’t.”

your mind couldn’t fully comprehend what paige was saying, especially when she lifted your lower back before pistoning her hips, hard enough that the bed started to shake.

“or, just ditch them for tonight and spend your time with me.” paige grinned before sucking your neck.

you let out a loud cry, both of your arms were grabbing paige’s back, kneading your acrylic nails on her back as the blonde winced at the pain.

“shit, ‘m so close…” you moaned on her ear so sensually—making paige clenched her jaw while you pressed your upper body against hers. “please… mmh, let me cum…”

skin slapping against skin. the lewd feeling of cum dripping down your thighs, the idea that you wouldn’t be able to even walk properly motivated paige even more instead of getting worn out.

paige immediately slowed down her pace, holding your hips on the mattress with a tight grip as she straightened her body. you cursed in irritation when the feeling of your climax faded away, you tried to grind your hips against her strap but the grip on your waist forcefully stopped you.

“seems so desperate, huh…” paige cooed after you let out a frustrated whine, “hold it until i say so.”

you pressed your nails on her biceps, “fuck you.”

paige let out a short laugh, “i’m already fucking you, baby.” you were about to open your mouth for a rebuttal until she held your knee, widening your legs even more before slamming her hips harder.

everything was suddenly happening too fast, the overwhelming pleasure shocked your body that you couldn’t do anything but cry and moan. you knew damn well that paige was always serious about her words.

you squeezed your eyes shut when paige lifted your lower back off the bed again, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and arching your back.

paige admired you, licking her dried lips before biting it. you looked so beautiful underneath her, your plump lips that always captivate her eyes, your neck that was covered by her marks, and your teary eyes that were filled with lust while taking her strap so obediently.

“fuck!” you cried out when paige just decided to be the most menacing person in the room, bringing her thumb down to rub your clit so perfectly while slamming her strap inside you. “stop—ah… shit, p… it’s too much!”

paige didn’t answer you, she wanted to make you feel so good. so good that you’d forget everything except crying out her name.

she leaned her face down—closer to you that her lips were almost brushing against yours. “hold it, baby.” paige whispered on your lips, “or i won’t let you cum.”

you locked your gaze at her, after hearing what she just said made you pout. “please… i’ll be good to you, p.”

“mhmm,” paige hummed, “you should, baby. didn’t like your attitude for the whole day.”

a gasp pushed past from your lips, moaning when her grip tightened on your waist that was enough to leave a bruise. and paige began to pick her pace up more while you grip on her biceps.

“nghh fuck, please, please, please-!” you were losing it, you were going to lose it. with tears tracking down your face, your body sore and used—all you needed now was: “please, paige… i need it, wanna cum! wan’ it so bad…” you croak, babbling and sputtering on your saliva.

she pressed a soft kiss on your lips, “cum.”

paige’s body tensed against yours and a sob escaped your throat, long and ruined as she thrust once, twice more with a long groan as a warmth liquid exploded, making you squirt as your legs shook extremely around her waist.

she pulled the strap out from your pussy, all wet mixed with cum. you gasped for air while you let your legs open wide in front of paige, all numb and shaky.

you thought she was done, you thought she already went to the bathroom to clean yourselves up. not until paige pushed her two fingers inside you, making you flinch from the sensitivity.

“paige…” you whined as you felt your body couldn’t move an inch, paige licked a stripe on your clit before sucking it harshly. “m sensitive… i already came..”

paige held your legs, keeping them open while she continued eating you out. “just cleaning you out, baby.”

#wlw #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #lgbtq #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #wbb #smut #x reader

679 notes · View notes

tacticaldiary · 2 years ago

Text

A Fighting Chance

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

Part 2, Masterlist,

"What're those?"

"Papers."

Ghost pauses halfway through opening the document, glancing up at the curtness of her voice. "Papers? She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the table of the little booth they're sitting in.

The ice in her drink is long gone, watering down her coffee into something that tastes as bitter as her heart.

It had taken months for her to finally make this decision. Days of talking with her lawyer, crying alone at night and coming to the gruelling acceptance that this was for the best. It was best for both of them.

There's not many things that unsettle Simon. He's had blood stain his hands; his own, his comrades, and his enemies. Had almost any injury you could think of marring his skin, been prodded and ripped into, been the one on the opposite end of the knife.

But as he slides out the documents, turns them over, Simon's never felt more apprehensive.

He stills, reading the first few lines, clenching his jaw. "What is this?"

"I want a divorce."

And something in him crumbles at her defeated tone. Like she's already decided. Like he doesn't even have a chance to ask why or talk it through.

"No." He says tightly, putting them down and crossing his arms.

Her gaze shoots to his. "You can't just say that."

"I did. I won't sign them."

"I want this." She argues, and Simon swallows back the lump in his throat at how utterly tired she looks.

"I don't."

She's the light of his life, the one good, untouched piece of joy he gets to see. Something other than the bloodshed and violence he lives in.

"Simon," She says, shoulders sagging forward. "I can't do this anymore."

"This isn't the solution, love." He feels like his skin is crawling, the beginnings of unfamiliar panic clawing at his chest when she doesn't react to the pet name.

Doesn't smile, doesn't flush that beautiful red, doesn't squirm.

When she doesn't respond again, tight-lipped and clammed up and so determined to not look at him, he asks the question burning a hole through his tongue.

"Why?"

Deep down he knows. Knew this was coming but that part of him is buried under the thudding of his heart, and the rush of blood in his ears. Everything feels deathly still and moving too fast at the same time.

"Why?" She repeats, something in her stirring at the question. Her brow furrows and she switches from a cautious indifference to disbelief and frustration quicker than Simon can process. "Are you serious?" She huffs out an incredulous laugh. "You're away for months at a time and I'm supposed to what? Wait for you at our doorstep and wag my tail all happy when you finally come back to me?" Her grip tightens on her drink.

"Even when you are home, it's never about us. Never about me and you. You lock yourself in your study with your work, don't talk to me unless you come out for dinner or lunch. When was the last time we went out?" She demands. "When was the last time we went on a date? The last time we slept at the same time in the same bed?"

Simon clenches his jaw but says nothing, at a loss for words. It only encourages her to keep going, spewing thoughts that have been boiling over for the past few years.

"You barely look at me when we're home, I had to drag you out of the house to get here! You left halfway through our anniversary dinner last year because work called you in. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you're only with me because it's easier than leaving and starting over, and that fucking hurts. It hurts when you can't bear to spend five minutes with me away from work. I've been telling you this for ages but you just...you don't listen to me." She leans forward, drink completely forgotten and hits the final nail in the coffin.

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

"I never even know if you're coming home to me." Her voice cracks, and she hugs her middle, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So yes, Simon, I want to separate. I'm not happy, not like I was when I met you." A sheen of tears she refuses to let fall.

"You can focus on work like you love to, and I can...I can move on."

It was so good when they started out. She found him endearing, dry humour and brooding and all. It was special, those first few years, and she'll always care about him but this...this waiting, this hurting, laying in bed at night alone and cold and crying...it wasn't right. It wasn't what she wanted and she wouldn't force Simon to want it when he clearly didn't want to.

"Fucking hell, I love you." Simon says quickly, stumbling over what to say. He reaches out for her hand on the table, but she pulls it away before he can grab it. It stings more than he can convey, makes the reality crashes down onto him.

He's about to lose her.

Because he couldn't fucking bear to pull himself out of being 'Ghost'.

It was always a rough couple of weeks during his leave. The adjustment to civilian life was a slow one for him, but that's not really an excuse at all.

"I don't think you do."

Simon blinks at her like she's slapped him. "You...you don't think so?" He repeats, running a hand through his hair. She nods, one nod, quick and so sure that it makes his chest ache.

Fuck. He's absolutely messed up.

"Everything's finalised on my end." She says. "You just need to sign them." Her voice is soft, almost like she's coaxing him.

If there's one thing he knows, it's that he's not touching those fucking papers. He's not losing someone he loves again.

"I'll take time off." He says, the intensity of his gaze makes a shiver run down her spine. "We can work through it, yeah? You can't spring this on me and not give me a chance to protest."

She shakes her head, "You're only taking time off because I'm upset." She tries to explain. "What do you think is going to happen? We spend a month together doing what we used to, and when everything's a little more stable you leave again. Distance yourself. Shut me out. Then we're back to square one."

"Won't happen." He says like he hasn't been doing it for the past few years already. "You...I can't lose you, darling." He leans forward. "Let me make it better. Give me a few months-"

"Simon-"

"A week."

"A week?" Her eyes widen. "A week to...what, prove that you'll change?"

"One week."

She worries her lip between her teeth, considering. One week wasn't a long time, but hope was dangerous in a situation like this.

"I'm not letting you go over something like this." Simon says. "I can't."

"This isn't about you." She crosses her arms. "You really think you can turn just...reverse the past few years in a week?" Maybe it's foolish of her to want him to say yes, to fight for her and realise that she's been hurting, but goddamn doesn't a small part of her scream at him to do it anyway.

"Not trying to reverse it." He folds his arms, and she can see the tense line of his shoulders as he takes in the situation, gears turning in his head as he plans how he's going to work his way out of a situation so precious and daunting as this.

Part of him didn't think it would ever come to this. Yes, he can be cold and aloof but Simon thought she knew that he loved her through it all. No matter what.

When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?

Fuck if that doesn't tear through his chest more painfully than any caliber bullet ever could.

He takes her in quietly for a moment.

The woman he fell in love with. The person that gave him a reason to keep going, a motive to feel anything other than the cold efficientness of loading a gun and firing. Soft touches and warm smiles, something so at odds with the rough life he's used to.

Sitting there in front of him, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, and it only proves to make his stomach sink like a stone at the notion of seeding any doubt about his feelings in her heart.

A right fucking bastard he was for it.

"I'm sorry." He breathes out, much softer than the gruff voice he's been using with her. "I'll do better. Just give me a chance, yeah?"

For one horrible moment, Simon thinks she'll decline. That she'll slide over the papers again and demand he sign them.

But she considers his words for a moment before nodding once.

And it's all he needs.

A fighting chance.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

Part 2

(11/10/2023)

4K notes · View notes

heartyluv · 1 month ago

Note

Hii I wanted to make a request!! I love your work. I’ve been following it the past few days, and you’ve practically been my distraction during finals. As I’m going through finals right now, I’d like to make a request that is vaguely connecter to exams.

As someone who has been struggling with ADHD her entire life, I find it extremely taxing to focus. These past few days, I’ve studied for hours only to recieve the most average results due to my inability to focus. I end up fiddling with random items on my desk, playing with water from a faucet, zoning out without even realising it, etc, and I’ve had full on mental breakdowns because of it. Thus, I was thinking, is it okay for me to request a Sylus and Caleb fic where reader, overwhelmed by her inability to focus, flops down into their arms and bursts into tears? It doesn’t have to be about studying for an exam— it can be about anything. And additionally (if I may), what if reader mentions to them (especially Sylus) “Now I understand why you don’t want me to get involved in your affairs. I can’t even focus.”

Thank you for your time!

Note: Oh my luv, I’m more than glad to write this for you. I hope this makes you feel better, even if it’s just a little. Know that you’re absolutely amazing and that beautiful mind of yours is just as perfect. Thank you so much for being here. I luv you and I’m incredibly proud of you! I believe in you so much.

Creds to @/cafekitsune for the dividers!

Warning: A little bit of self deprecation, but Sylus and Caleb make it all better.

Caleb

You were supposed to be packed and ready to move out a week ago. Instead, your important items were unpacked and in disarray, your miscellaneous items are all over the place, and you didn’t have it in you to fix any of it.

Every time you picked up a box to start filling it up, you found yourself opting for your phone instead, saying that you just needed a small break. Five minutes of scrolling turned to an hour and an hour turned into you not touching anything else for the rest of the day. You felt defeated, incapable of finding a solution. It made you feel weak.

You and your boyfriend made the decision to move in together and Caleb was handling everything. Being the loving man he was, he didn’t care that you needed more time. He wanted you to make sure you were absolutely ready. He was ready to pay to get your stuff over to him and to send you food everyday so that you could focus on packing instead of trying to feed yourself. All you had to do was put your shit in boxes and you couldn’t even do that.

It was another repeat of this behavior today, but this time, it was so overwhelming that you couldn’t stop crying. It really struck your emotions when you were trying to see what you were keeping and what you were throwing out, but then you got to the point where you wanted to get rid of it all. You wanted to throw out your things, all the plushies Caleb ever won for you, the hoodies he gave you—basically anything that you didn’t already have ready to go, you wanted it gone completely. That was how frustrated you were with yourself and your lack of focus.

When the reality of what you were thinking settled in after you gave yourself a millisecond to calm down, your body legitimately shut down. You fell on your bed in a heap of tears, sobs racking your body.

You were so out of it that you didn’t hear your door being unlocked and open. You didn’t hear Caleb walk into your apartment calling for you. It was only when he called your name in worry when he found you in your room, that the realization of his presence washed over you.

“Baby?” he exclaimed with concern, stepping over the empty and half filled boxes.

You looked up in exhaustion, your eyes red and nose stuffy. Warm tears fell down your cheeks when he sat down next to you, scooping you up. You threw yourself into his strong arms, crying into his neck while he soothed you. His gentle cologne and natural scent calmed your brain in a way you haven’t had in what felt like a long time.

“Talk to me, pretty,” he cooed, kissing your head. “You weren’t answering my calls all day, so I got worried and came to you. What’s going on?”

“I’m so overwhelmed, Caleb,” you choked out, shaking your head from both embarrassment and vulnerability. “I can’t focus, I can’t finish one thing…All I do is leave everything incomplete. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know why it’s so hard…”

“You lean on me, that’s what you do,” he said firmly, his tone laced with love and determination. “You never have to do a thing on your own when you have me.”

“You’ve been doing everything already, and I can’t even do this?” you scoff, your chest tight with emotion. “How can I move in with you, be a good, supporting, and dependable girlfriend when I can’t even pack a fucking box without zoning out..?”

He pulls back to look at you, genuine distress and pain on his face. He hates that you’re talking about yourself like this, that you view yourself like this. He doesn’t care what you struggle with, would never care how much you felt like you had to figure anything out without his help. He would always be your rock, ready to take on all your burdens if you needed him to.

“Then we’ll get it done together.” He holds your face in his hands and you brace one of yours on his wrist, biting your lip from nervousness. “There is nothing that you can’t bring to me, pretty girl. Stop belittling and undermining yourself, because you will always be stronger than you think. I’ll forever be by your side to enforce that mindset, do you understand?”

You nod, your lip quivering because you feel the need to cry again. He brings you close, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Right now,” he whispers, rubbing your back. “I want you to rest and we’ll start handling everything over the next few days. Is that okay?”

“It’s perfect,” you mumble. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this..”

“Don’t even. You have nothing to apologize for.” You close your eyes, feeling the weight of your sadness settle on your bones, making you sleepy.

“I just need you to remember that I am here. I will always be here. Whenever it gets hard, look to me and I’ll show you how easy it can be when we do it together.”

Sylus

You pinched the bridge between your nose when you heard your laptop ping with a new notification.

Another email?

Your job had been more demanding than usual lately and you were finding it hard to keep up. Typically, your workload was fair, but you had times where it would get like this—where no matter how you planned to complete something in a certain amount of time, the expectations kept piling and piling.

When it got stressful, you found it incredibly difficult to focus on the important tasks at hand. You’d respond to emails later than intended, you couldn’t retain the information you were reading even if you looked it over more than three times, and you couldn’t stick with the work at all in the first place.

Instead of doing what you needed to, you found yourself just staring at the screen for long periods of time or trying to find something to give your mind a break, only to never return to what you were supposed to.

You’d click your pen over and over and start to waste your post-it notes by doodling random things. You couldn’t do it anymore and the longer you waited, your work only grew.

As you sat at on the floor, the coffee table covered in incomplete paperwork, another message came through. In fact, it was three. And what were you doing instead of keeping up? You were watching the damn TV. And at this point, you couldn’t do it anymore.

Your head fell in your hands, wet tears gliding down your arms as you felt a headache bloom in your temples. Your inability to focus was costing you, but you couldn’t correct it, no matter how hard you tried.

As your heavy heart beat rapidly in your body, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see Sylus looking down at you with his perfect brows furrowed in confusion. He must’ve just finished his work call. At least he was getting things done, you thought briefly.

“Are you overworking yourself again, sweetie?” He gently grips you and the small amount of pressure grounds you, just a little.

“The opposite,” you push out past your tears. “I can’t focus on anything. I haven’t been able to get one thing completed…It all just keeps coming, Sy…”

His ruby red eyes look over you like he’s scanning your body for all the things that are troubling his kitten so that he can eradicate it. He holds his hand out, tilting his head to tell you to stand and come to him.

When your soft hand glides against his large one, he helps you stand.

“I wish you didn’t punish yourself for being human,” he says softly, bringing you close to his hard body. “Perhaps you need to focus on yourself for a little while before you try to give your all to something that can wait.”

He sits on the couch, gesturing for you to climb into his lap. You inhale deeply, feeling the desire to cry spark in you again and can’t control the sob that juts out as you straddle him. He holds your jaw in his hand, using his thumb to brush away your tears.

“I envy and loathe that brain of yours sometimes.” He smiles at you, simply admiring the woman before him.

You press yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The more you think of what you need to do, the more the tears flow. He wraps you tightly in his arms, knowing that his weight and strength are one of the only things that can make you feel like you’re still you.

“All the times I wanted to help you with your business and your work,” you sniffle. “Now I understand why you tell me no. I get why you always hesitate. If I can’t focus on my own work, how could you ever be able to depend on me? I’d be a liability instead of an efficient addition…”

“Stop.” He leaves no room for argument. “Your value to me will never be based on anything related to something as unimportant and trivial as work. I don’t tell you no because I believe you’re incapable. I tell you no because your safety, peace of mind, and happiness, will never be compromised for the things that I need to do or the things I need handled.”

When you squeeze him tighter, he reciprocates, kissing your neck as you melt into him.

“I just want to do my best.” The salty tears that linger fall onto his shirt, but he’d catch every single one in his hands if it meant he could absorb the things that bring you distress.

You continue. “But how can I when I can’t bring myself to stay on task, Sy? Why do I have to be in my own way?”

“Your best is always delivered because it is being done by you. Nothing you do is mediocre. It never could be.” It’s quiet for a few seconds as he gathers the right words to say.

“You treat yourself as if you’re a superhero instead of a person who needs to make sure that she’s just as catered to as the work she’s doing. Remove yourself from the confines of these unrealistic expectations and lean into the reality. That you are significantly more important than any email,” he kisses your jaw. “Than any task. Than anything that does not serve you in the moment.”

Your breath settles as you digest his words, letting his affirmations seep into your very being. You know he’s right, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling like you’ve failed yourself. But if you listen to him, perhaps you can dig yourself out that hole and keep yourself out of it.

“Let me help you come back to who you are, kitten.” His deep voice rumbles, making you shiver. “You were never intended to do it by yourself.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x you #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x you #sylus x reader #lads sylus #lads caleb #heartyluv answers!

210 notes · View notes

gayasswitchbitch · 20 days ago

Note

Hi! Hope u have a nice day. If it's ok with you and haven't been done yet, may i request a hcs where ace x oblivious reader. Where ace actually not a womanizer (or manizer idk what to call it, peopleizer), but he's actually try to flirt for real this time, where reader is vv oblivious because they take anything as a joke and laugh it off. May i see the hcs where we can see his frustrations toward reader? Thank you very much, it's completely okay if you're not ok with this <33

I love you, you idiot!- Portgas D. Ace x reader.

An//: sorry this took me so long. I get weirdly aggressive about making my Ace fics feel perfect and end up stressing out and putting it off lmao but it’s finally here and I’m happy with the final result. Let me know what you think! I hope it fits what you were looking for <3

Cw: Reader is called beautiful, use of y/n like once. Think that’s it idk 🤷‍♀️ enjoy!

1.6k words!

Ace was a pretty man. No doubt he caught the attention of all the girls when he’d pass through town. Once he walks through the room it’s like the sun has suddenly risen after a lifetime of lonely, cold nights. Ace had the kind of beauty that made everyone wonder where he had been all their lives.

Ace didn’t seem to notice any of it. When he did, he paid them no mind. It was invisible to him, because there was you.

You noticed though. The longing stares, drink offers and slight arm touches. Seeing others fawn over him, the man you wish were only yours, makes you sick. Truly you understood why he was so well liked. He was stunning. What made it worse was that if you spent enough time with him, as you have, you’d find that his heart was even more beautiful than the freckles that kiss his cheeks or the muscles that dance over his toned body. He is loving, caring, compassionate. He felt everything deeply and wore his heart on his sleeve. Part of you wishes those girls could see that side of him too, that he’s not just abs and a pretty face, but to think of them knowing him in the ways you do makes you feel even more sick.

Ace wasn’t afraid to show off the love he held in his heart with those around him either, and being particularly fond of you, he’d find himself frequently doing whatever he could to make your day easier. He doted on you and he enjoyed every second of it. He wants your attention, and secretly needs your praise. You noticed it starting with small efforts such as mentioning how beautiful he thought you look in a new outfit or sitting just slightly closer each time you’d sit down for dinner together and offering you bites of his meal. Gradually it became larger things like stealing you a knickknack when the crew would dock on a new island, or carrying things when you got tired.

He was trying everything he could to get your attention. Despite his best efforts, Ace doesn’t seem to phase you at all. How could you not notice his obviousness? The way his heart races, face glowing brighter than the embers of his flames, the way he stares with hearts in his eyes, like you’re the most magical thing in the world. You are a dopamine hit that he craves more and more with each passing day.

What he didn’t know was that when your heart would start to get too hopeful that he liked you back, and when you’d stare into his pretty eyes for far too long and start to imagine a future, you’d reel yourself back. ‘This can’t mean anything’ you’d tell yourself. Seeing how loved he was, how wanted and adored, you couldn’t bring yourself to imagine this was more than him being friendly. Not when he could have anyone he wanted.

On his end, he’d become so frustrated he needed a solution. So here he sat with Marco, both men doing their best to come up with a plan on how to make you see that he loves you. Marco is standing by the door of his room, leaning against the wall. Ace is drowning in despair on the bed, moping.

“I dunno man. What more can you do? You’ve basically got ‘I love you.’ Tattooed on your forehead here.” Marco isn’t wrong, Ace knows this, but it still pisses him off.

“Come on man! Be serious! I’m dying out here.” Ace whines, sinking further into the sheets.

Marco has seen it all play out. Everyone has. It seems the only person not in the know is you. Everyone is frustrated for Ace, Marco in particular is tired of hearing his complaining. “Look. You’re gonna have to stop being a wuss and just tell them.”

Ace shoots him an ugly look. “I am not a wuss!” He yells.

Marco smirks. “If youre not a wuss, why haven’t you walked up to them and said ‘hey why haven’t you noticed I’m so pathetically in love with you, please date me’”

Ace groans even though he again knew Marco was right. He’d done everything BUT just come out and say it. He feared that if you couldn’t see it already, maybe it meant you didn’t feel the same. He can feel the frustration bubbling inside him. Part of him wants to scream, part of him wants to cry.

He thought by now you’d figure it out. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was terrified.

Ace sighs. “It’s not that simple, Marco.”

“It is that simple you idiot! You’re gonna sit here and play games forever unless you just say it! They’ve always accepts your gifts, they’ve never complained about you being so damn clingy, they look at you like you’re a damn god, Ace! Just do it already you’re killing me here!”

His heart pounds at the thought. Would it be better to let this go on forever, to never say a word and still be able to keep you close? Or would it be better to take the risk of losing you for the risk of getting to love you more openly? Ace takes a deep breath and lets go of all his energy for the night. This conversation had exhausted him. He grew tired. ‘It might be best to just die’ he thought.

“Have you ever thought-“ Marco adds. “That maybe they act this way cause they see how others treat you? Maybe it’s hard for them to think you’d be interested when they have to see girls fighting to buy you a drink every night.” Marco knew you well enough to know that this was exactly the case, but Ace isn’t always the easiest to talk to. He often didn’t care to listen to reason. Luckily this time he did.

The realization hit Ace like a train. He knew people flirted every now and then, but he always rejected them and immediately turned his attention to you. If this was the sole reason for you to not understand his feelings for you, he might burn down every bar in sight. Upon hearing this, all the once depleted energy had suddenly surged back into him. ‘What a stupid idea’ he thinks. How stupid of you to think any of those girls mattered, that they mattered more than you. You were his everything, all he thought about, all he needs. He knew if he didn’t use this wave of energy, he’d chicken out the next day. He had to tell you right now or he might never have the courage again.

Ace thanked Marco and ran out of the room.

He pushed past each crew mate despite their dismay, running around the ship like a mad man to find you. And there you were sitting by yourself, reading a book under a shaded area of the deck. He feels his chest tighten and he’s not sure if it’s because of how beautiful you look, or because he’s about to put everything on the line.

“Y/n!” Hard footsteps pounding on the deck make their way toward you. You don’t need to turn to know who it is. It’s always him. He’s there, a flower in hand, one he had stolen while on his rampage through the ship, and a slight flush on his cheeks. He’s out of breath but still manages to speak. “So.. uh.” He thinks his nerves might kill him. He can’t even look you in the eye. He shoves the flower in your face, looking away. He’s a complete mess, but continues. “I.. wanted to give you this flower because… well, it reminded me of you.. you know.. cause you’re so pretty and stuff.” He stammers the words out, and coughs, clearing his throat in attempt to get his nerves down. It doesn’t work.

Your face lights up. It’s truly a beautifully romantic gesture, but your heart begins to ache. There’s no way this could mean what you want it to right? “Wow Ace! That’s so sweet of you.” You tried to mask the sorrow, but did poorly. “You’re such a good friend to me.”

Aces body freezes in place, his face contorting. ‘Friend.’ He thinks. ‘They called me their friend…’ he hates himself for it, but he thinks you might be a little dumb. The thought of being just your friend nearly disgusts him and for a second he forgets what he came here for, the thought lost in the chaos of his mind. He wants to turn and run, his body tells him to, but he thinks of Marco. He thinks of how he’d never stop making fun of him he if chickens out, and he thinks of the conversation they had before. He takes a deep breath. ‘They don’t get it. They need the words.’

“Y/n.” He says sternly, like he meant business. He no longer had the will to mess around. He watches as you bite your lip in anxiety and watches as your saddened eyes slowly lock with his. “You know what..” he huffs in impatience. He didn’t care anymore. If this meant he had any chance of loving you then it was worth the risk. Ace quickly grabs you by the shoulders, pulling you toward him and aggressively places a kiss on your lips before pushing you back, looking into your eyes again. “Do you get it now?” He says annoyed.

Your lips tingle with shock and excitement and now you’re the one frozen in place. Words fail you for a moment and all you can muster is the biggest grin anyone has ever seen. It makes Ace smile as well. That’s a smile a man would go to war for, and he would.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #ace x you #one piece imagines #one piece fluff #whitebeard one piece #portgas ace x you #portgas ace fluff #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace headcannons #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #portgas d ace fluff

271 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

Whole Lotta Love | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley were just friends, and perhaps that was why you trusted him so much. It wasn't his fault that you were secretly harboring a crush a mile wide. When your noisy neighbor becomes too much and you decide you need to move, Bradley helps you brainstorm a solution. But when you set your plans into action, you're surprised to find that he seems almost jealous.

Warnings: Adult language, angst, fluff, drinking, mentions of masturbation

Length: 8600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @mak-32

"I need to move."

Bradley looked up at your annoyed expression as you dropped your lunch tray a little violently onto the cafeteria table across from him with a clatter. The top piece of bread slid off your sandwich as you sat down with a pout.

"Like to a new apartment?" he asked, reaching over to straighten out your silverware and napkin. "Didn't we just help you move a few months ago, Sparrow?"

For some reason that set you off as your clenched fist bumped the edge of the tray, messing everything up again. "Yes, to a new apartment, Rooster! And yes, I just moved six months ago, but I can't take another day of this shit."

"What's wrong?" Jake asked where he was inhaling his food right next to you like he had a vendetta against it.

You sighed, and the sound was so soft and sweet compared to your frustrated expression, Bradley almost laughed. "The guy who lives above me is an aspiring wedding DJ. Do you have any idea what that means for my sleep schedule?"

"Oh shit," Javy groaned from your other side. "Are you getting Cupid Shuffle all night long?"

"Coyote," you whined, "he makes his own remixes! At four in the morning! When I asked him to stop, he said he was perfecting his artform, but that he'd turn the volume down a smidge. Meanwhile, I moved into my current apartment, because my old neighbors were hosting woodworking retreats in their living room!"

Now Bradley really was laughing. "You need a break? You can come sleep over at my place tonight."

You were finally smiling now as you said, "Thanks Rooster, but I've seen the wrong side of your couch before. I had a long, long night in your living room after the holiday party."

"So don't get drunk first this time," he replied easily, remembering that night vividly. You let him carry you into his house from his Bronco while you whispered the lyrics to Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin really slowly to him. It was funny and somehow a little hot at the same time. He liked it a little too much. "Or you can just sleep in my bed."

Your eyes went a little wide. "With you?"

"Of course not," he replied quickly, hoping he wasn't blushing. "We're just friends. I could take the couch for one night so you can have a break. If you want."

You and he really were just friends. You were friends with all the guys. They all loved you and your humor, and you were a hell of a good WSO. Bradley didn't even fly with a backseater, but he always liked getting paired with you and Omaha. You had an ease about you, and it even translated to the way you took a massive bite out of your sandwich after you said, "Maybe I'll just sneak in and break DJ Insomnia's turntables."

Then you smiled at Bradley while you chewed your food, and Javy and Jake started to make up a song about DJ Insomnia. You laughed when they tried to rhyme 'slumber' with 'nightmare', but you were still looking at Bradley as if he was in on some inside joke with you. Your eyes twinkled when he nudged your leg with his boot underneath the table.

"Hey, I'll be more than happy to help you move again, Sparrow, but I think you ought to at least consider having me over around three in the morning with my keyboard. I'll bring these two idiots with me as well, and we can all sing at the top of our lungs until your neighbor moves out."

You tipped your head back and laughed. "Oh, Rooster. You're the sweetest, but he'd probably actually enjoy that."

Now Bradley was definitely blushing as he looked down at his lunch, and he wasn't really sure why.

------------------------

You gathered your things together for the night as soon as you heard your neighbor playing the Electric Slide. If he was already starting at seven o'clock, you needed to get out now. You shoved clean underwear and some random clothing into your backpack before you stopped in the bathroom and grabbed the essentials. Bradley's couch had never sounded better to you in your life, but if he felt like offering up his bed, then even better. Hell, you'd curl up in there with him at this point. What difference did it make? It wasn't like anything physical was ever going to happen.

He was one of the boys, and you loved them all. It wasn't Bradley's fault that his sun kissed skin and wavy hair were kind of your thing. If they were attached to another man, you'd probably have made a move, but he was your friend. Sure, you'd thought about it before, when you were alone in bed and it was very, very late. He was attractive and hilarious, and you were only human. But some things were sacred.

"Yeah, like peace and quiet," you growled as you stomped down your hallway. You grabbed your keys and headed out, zipping along to Bradley's house in record time. You were obsessed with his place which was complete with flower boxes underneath the front windows and a pink front door that he never seemed to get around to repainting even though he mentioned it all the time.

You hauled yourself up to his porch with your half zipped backpack and bad attitude and pounded on his door. You had a spare key somewhere in the bottom of your purse, but you didn't feel like digging for it. When he didn't answer, you pounded again, a little harder this time.

"Yeah?" he asked, his tone gruff as the door flew open. "Sparrow," he muttered, his voice much softer with your call sign attached to it. "Hey."

But you didn't register too much besides the fact that he was standing there in nothing but a pair of snug boxer briefs with damp hair and skin that smelled delicious just inches away from you. "Hi," you said, sounding as mesmerized as you felt. Golden tan. Sparse chest hair. Perfectly groomed mustache. You wanted to lick him. Where on earth did that urge come from? You never thought about dragging your tongue along his chest and neck and all the way up to his lips. Except that you had... very, very late at night.

Fuck.

It wouldn't be worth messing things up. You forced your gaze up to his brown eyes. "I'm here for our sleepover," you said with as much normalcy as you could muster, but the response you got was Bradley's cheeks turning pink as he leaned away from the doorway so you could step inside. Then you came to a stop and looked at him again. He smelled really good. Like maybe he was wearing cologne. "Oh. Were you heading out? Do you have a date?"

His cheeks grew redder. "Um, no. Not at all. Of course not."

His answer sent a little wave of relief through your body. "Good." You winced at your response as you continued to his couch and set your bag down. "I mean, do you want to order a pizza or something?"

He ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "Yeah. Sure. Just let me get dressed. I'll be right back out."

--------------------------

You actually came over. With your backpack full of your stuff. Bradley wasn't expecting you to take him up on his offer, and now he was doubly flustered; he actually did plan a last minute date, and he just jerked off in the shower while thinking about you.

"Oh fuck," he groaned as he pulled on a pair of jeans. He didn't start off thinking about you. It just kind of happened. At first, he was thinking about a faceless girl sitting on his lap with her hand in his underwear, and then suddenly she did have a face. Your face. And then she had your voice. And then he pictured the two of you on his actual couch. And it was definitely you giving him a handjob in his shower fantasy, and he came all over the tile wall like it was your face. He was lucky you didn't let yourself in with your spare key in time to hear him moaning your name.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He looked wild. Slightly deranged. His pupils were huge, and his cheeks were hot pink. How the hell was he supposed to eat pizza with you while he was thinking about you on his lap?

But the fact that he wanted nothing more than to eat pizza and drink beers with you solidified the fact that he needed to cancel his date with Erin. He was so stupid for doing this. She was a viable option for someone to date. You were not. But he was apparently going to torture himself anyway as he texted her Hey, sorry this is last minute, but I need to reschedule.

He didn't wait for a response as he made his way back to his living room where you had already cracked open a can of beer from the refrigerator and made yourself at home on the couch. You were wearing what you always wore when you didn't have on a flight suit, just yoga pants and a baggy tee shirt. It shouldn't have been cute, but it was.

You smiled up at him as you nudged the unopened can of beer on the coffee table with your blue painted toenail. "I got you one."

He poked your foot with his finger and picked up the beer as he said, "Yeah, it's the least you could do since you helped yourself to my fridge."

When he dropped down onto the couch next to you, his weight on the cushions had you colliding into him. "Sorry," you murmured, your hand coming to rest on his abs as you pushed yourself back into place like it was nothing. Meanwhile, he broke out in a nervous sweat. "What do you want to watch?"

"Doesn't matter," he replied, handing you the remote. Then he grinned and said, "Or we could skip the TV, and I could get my keyboard out and play Cupid Shuffle for you. Maybe try my hand at a remix." You tipped your head back and pretended to cry before you started laughing. "What's the matter? I'm sure I'll sound better than your neighbor. Give it a chance, Sparrow," he teased.

You turned to face him on the couch, still laughing with your beer can resting against his bicep. "First of all, no. Please. No. Absolutely not. Second, has anyone ever told you how adorable it is that you have a keyboard that you actually play?"

"I tell myself that all the time," he replied, trying hard not to smile as you laughed. "I say, 'Bradley, you're adorable. I think it's so cool that you want to relive your piano lessons from middle school. Maybe you should get braces again, too.'"

You were cackling now as you gasped, "Stop it."

He sipped his beer and shook his head. "Of course nobody has ever said my keyboard is adorable. It's the nerdiest thing a guy in his thirties could possibly own, and only like five people in total know about it."

With tears in your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath. "I'm so happy I'm one of those five people."

"Yeah, well, keep it to yourself," he muttered with a smile as he took the remote back and turned on the Padres game. You were still giggling softly as you settled in next to him again. "You want pizza?" he asked.

"I've never said no to pizza," you replied easily, your thigh rubbing gently against his.

"My treat."

"You always say it's your treat. I'll get it this time."

"Nah, you've got to save up your money so you can move out of your apartment, remember?" he asked as he placed the order on his phone.

"How could I forget?" you moaned. "Your house is so nice, I wish I could evict you and move in here."

He set his phone aside and kicked his feet up onto his coffee table. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "That would be a pretty rude thing to do to the guy who always buys your pizza."

Your side eye was impeccable as you said, "It's not like you'd be destitute. I'd let you live with DJ Insomnia. Now I just need a way to make money fast."

Bradley shook his head as the baseball game went to a commercial. "There's no such thing, Sparrow. Nothing legal anyway, and Uncle Sam pays your salary."

You were tapping your beer can with your finger and biting your lip gently, and Bradley's mind drifted back to his shower fantasy. You hummed softly, and he could practically feel the weight of your body settling onto his lap. That's what he wanted. You and he could finish this discussion with you straddling his thighs and his tongue in your mouth.

He should have gone out with Erin. He should have just admitted that he had a date and told you that you could hang out here while he was gone, because now he was getting his hopes up as your leg bumped his again. He knew he was blushing when he looked at you, so he turned back to the TV just in time for the beginning of a Hooters commercial.

"Wow," you mused with a little snicker as you gestured toward the parade of tits with your beer can. "That really got your attention."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "No, it didn't."

"Seriously? That's a lot of boobs, Rooster. You think we should contact the ad agency and tell them they should feature a few more?"

He turned and looked at you, and you started cracking up again. "I think it was actually just the right amount of boobs," he said, trying really hard not to look at your chest.

You forced your face into a neutral expression. "Do you like to go to Hooters?"

Bradley groaned and tried to stand up but you reached for his arm and tugged him closer to you instead. "Why do you think it's fun to pick on me?"

"I'm not really sure, but it's great," you replied. "Didn't all the guys go to Hooters for Jake's birthday?"

"Yeah," he replied with a laugh. "Jake got completely fucking wasted and proposed to our waitress. Then he tried to write his number on a napkin for her, but it looked like hieroglyphics. He even tried to follow her into the kitchen at one point, and Javy had to go get him. At least he left her a two hundred dollar tip for being so annoying."

You gaped at him and set your empty beer can on the coffee table. "Two hundred bucks? Oh my god, do you realize how fast I could buy my own place with guys like Jake around if I worked at Hooters?"

Bradley sat up a little straighter and watched as your eyes lit up while you watched the end of the commercial before the Padres game came on again. "You wouldn't want guys... fussing over you like that, would you?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "I can handle myself."

"That's not what I meant. I just-" He cut himself off. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to tell you he was already jealous just thinking about it? He definitely couldn't admit that. So instead he said, "Your boobs are too good for Hooters. You should keep them in your flight suit."

Now you were looking down at your body and running your hands up your belly to your chest, and Bradley was entranced as he watched you squeeze yourself through your tee shirt like it didn't even matter if he was there or not. You must have trusted him implicitly as you looked at him with sad eyes and said, "You're probably right. Guys know best about this kind of thing, and flight suits are a catch-all for making everyone's body look identical. Maybe it's better to just keep blending in."

He felt like a jerk, because that's not what he meant at all. He wanted to tell you that you were beautiful and that you'd probably make enough money in two weeks to buy the house of your dreams in those orange booty shorts and the tiny tops, but he couldn't. He wanted to kiss that little pout from your lips, but he wouldn't. Instead he said, "Let's keep brainstorming?"

"Yeah, thanks," you whispered, letting your lips brush against his cheek, and Bradley jumped about a mile into the air when there was a knock at the front door.

-------------------------

You and Bradley had given up on the Padres game. Now you were turned so you were facing each other with pizza and paper plates and more cans of beer. "Okay, you hear how quiet your house is? You hear how nobody is annoying the shit out of you right now? No turntables or amplifiers anywhere?"

"Yeah," he said with a laugh. His cheeks had been perpetually pink all night, and it was really distracting. You had to keep reminding yourself that he thought you'd look better in your shapeless flight suit than in a Hooters uniform, and it kind of broke your heart every single time. But that's what you needed.

You forced a smile as you said, "I want this kind of peace in my life. So give me your best brainstorming ideas for how I can make some more money. Go."

"What about cage fighting?" he asked before he took an enormous bite of pizza.

"Cage fighting?" you balked. "Maybe you don't think much of my face, but I happen to like it the way it is!"

His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open. "I do like your face, Sparrow. I was just joking."

He still looked concerned as you waved him off and asked, "What if I started bartending again? Like I did in college?"

Bradley shrugged. "You'll get just as many guys creeping on you at a bar."

You nibbled on your pizza crust and thought about your options. "What if it's the right kind of bar though? One with bouncers and security guards and everything, and oh my god! I've got it!"

"What?"

You watched him fold another slice of pizza in half and devour it as you said, "The Beauty Bar."

He froze with his mouth full and started shaking his head. "No," he said as soon as he swallowed. "That's like Hooters, but the girls dance. On the bar."

"Exactly," you told him, letting your hand rest on his knee. "Bigger tips and buffer security guards. Just think about it, Rooster. I could play one of the characters and have my own unique outfit. It's mostly just bartending, but the breaks for dancing would be so fun."

He looked a little constipated, and you almost laughed when he asked, "What kind of outfit?"

You tried to remember the girls from the only time you'd been there. "I think there was a cowgirl and a schoolgirl? Or like a dirty librarian?"

Bradley leaned a little closer to you and said, "Maybe you should reconsider the cage fighting. I could get you like a hockey mask to wear?" He ran his fingertip gently down the side of your face. "You know, to keep you safe?"

"I wouldn't last one round," you told him with a grin. "Besides, The Beauty Bar is mostly filled with bachelorette parties and girls having a fun night out. I think I'll call them or stop by tomorrow and see what they say."

Bradley dropped his hand from your face and muttered, "I'll keep brainstorming. You feel like watching a movie?"

"Sure," you told him as you stretched. "You pick since you paid for the pizza."

A few seconds later, your favorite movie was queued up on the TV, and you tried to get him to look at you, but he was actively avoiding doing so as he tried not to smile. You were halfway on his lap with your hands on his cheeks when he finally met your eyes. "Thanks, Bradley. For the pizza and for the movie and the sleepover and everything."

"You're welcome," he whispered softly. You thought about how good it would feel to kiss him, but you ended up laying on a pillow that was propped against his thigh instead. Less than halfway into the movie, you were sound asleep.

----------------------

Bradley didn't want to move. You were sound asleep with your cheek pressed to his thigh, and a tiny little spot of drool darkened the fabric of his jeans next to your lips. You had pushed the pillow to the floor, and you had reached for his hand while you dozed.

He'd had a full blown crush on you for a while now. It was useless to try to deny it. But you had him in the friend zone along with Javy and Jake and all the rest of the guys, and he was sure that if he tried to level up, you'd smash him right back down where he belonged.

You were so cute, finally getting the sleep you deserved. Clearly you trusted him, which made him feel important, but he wanted to be important to you in every way.

When he tried to slide off the couch, you snuggled against him harder. When he tried to wake you up, you moaned and snoozed on. He got himself awkwardly into position to pick you up, and he hoisted you into his arms. Your hand rested on his chest, and your lips met his neck as you mumbled, "I'm sleepy."

"I know you are, Honey." The pet name just slipped out, but you didn't complain as he stood there in his living room trying to stave off an erection as you snuggled against him. "I'm taking you to my bed. You'll be more comfortable."

"M'kay."

Then he was treated to your half asleep rendition of Whole Lotta Love where most of the lyrics were wrong and it was pretty much completely off key. But you were singing it right next to his ear, and once again, he liked it more than he should. When he set you down on his bed, you immediately burrowed under the blankets like you slept in his room all the time, and he watched you curl up on your side.

Your eyes were closed as you whispered, "Aren't you getting in?"

He wanted to. He knew the feel of your body well enough to know that he'd love snuggling with you all night. But this friendship meant something to him. "Nah, I'll be out on the couch if you need me."

You didn't respond verbally, but you did nod, and Bradley kissed your temple. Then he grabbed a blanket from his closet and left you alone. His thoughts were a complete mess as he stepped out of his jeans and tossed them on the coffee table. He stretched out on his couch as much as he could, but then he thought about you wearing a Hooters uniform.

"Don't do it," he warned himself, but it was too fucking late. The little orange shorts and the tiny white shirts had been nice on the other girls, sure. But on you'd, they would be lethal for him.

The idea of you dressed as a cowgirl doing a little dance routine on a sticky bartop wasn't much better. Guys would be throwing tip money at you and begging you to make their drinks. They would all want to chat you up and try to touch you. Bradley would go through the roof if one of them did. But if this is what you wanted to do and it was going to help you reach your goal, then he was going to have to be supportive, even if it killed him.

After barely sleeping most of the night, Bradley was finally dozing when you walked out into the living room the next morning. His blanket ended up on the floor at some point, but you came right over to him where he was overflowing from the couch in just his undershirt and boxer briefs.

"You could have slept in your bed, too," you whispered, brushing your fingers through his hair. "You're too big for the couch."

He noted that you were wearing your backpack as he melted into your touch. "Are you leaving? I thought we could grab breakfast."

Now you were smiling. "I'm gonna run. I'm planning to stop at The Beauty Bar later and see if they're hiring any new bartenders. Thanks for everything."

With that, you kissed his forehead, and Bradley's eyes closed as soon as you went prancing out his front door into the sunlight. "I'll keep brainstorming," he groaned.

----------------------------

Your interview at the bar consisted of making three drinks and picking out a 'uniform' to wear. Some of the clothing was so tiny, it made the Hooters girls look modest by comparison. But they assured you that you'd love working there, so you accepted the position and took your new clothing home.

The first time you put on the black leather skirt that zipped all the way up the front along with the cropped shirt, you took it back off immediately. Could you mix cocktails in the outfit? Sure. Could you dance on the top of the bar for three minutes straight three times per night? Maybe not. But then you remembered that they told you some girls made up to five hundred bucks per shift. And then DJ Insomnia started on a remix of the Macarena right above you.

So you put the outfit back on again and decided that yes, you could do this. And maybe it would help to get a guy's perspective on the way you looked and your dance moves. You wanted to ask Bradley, but you didn't think you could handle the way he'd laugh about this. But there was something about the way he'd been concerned about you when you slept over at his place on Friday night. You almost felt protected. Cared for. God, you were already jealous of the woman he would eventually fall for, because she would be on the receiving end of all of his warm attention. And she'd get to live in that house with him. And he'd actually sleep in his bed with her, unlike the couch when you were there.

You rolled your eyes in the mirror and added some makeup to your face. This was so unlike you, falling for one of your friends. But you were tired of trying to fight it. And you still trusted his opinions. So you called him.

"Sparrow," he crooned when he answered your call.

"Rooster," you replied in your most matter of fact tone. "I was wondering if you could stop by for a few minutes and help me with something?"

"Right now?" he asked immediately.

You bit your lip before swiping some lipstick on while you said, "Whenever you have a chance."

"I'll be there soon."

He didn't let you down. He never did. Twenty minutes later, there were three taps on your apartment door, and then he was letting himself inside with the spare key you gave him months ago.

"Sparrow, it's me," he called out over the remix of Footloose. "Jesus. You weren't kidding. Your neighbor plays music like this all the time?"

"Yes," you shouted from your bedroom. "Constantly."

"I'm going to go up and have a little chat with him."

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup as you said, "Don't bother. I've tried so many times. All he's done is lower the volume the slightest bit."

Bradley's sarcastic laugh from your living room made you smile. "I'm sure I can get him to do whatever I say."

That was undoubtedly the truth. You also didn't want him to get arrested. When you ran out to see him, you had forgotten what you were wearing as you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him.

Bradley's eyes were wide, and as soon as his hands settled on your bare waist, he pulled them right off again. "Holy shit. What the fuck is this?"

"Oh," you gasped, taking a nervous step away from him. "It's kind of my uniform. For my new bartending gig?" His cheeks were pink, his lips were parted, and he was gaping at you as he dragged his gaze up and down your body. "Is it bad?"

"Holy shit," he repeated. And then he said it one more time before he met your eyes. "Do you think it's bad?"

You winced and groaned. "I wasn't sure. But you're a guy. If you think it's awful, then I certainly don't want to wear it to my second job." He let out a strangled sound, and you started to turn back to your bedroom. "I'll stick to my flight suits."

You felt his fingers lace with yours before you heard his strained voice. "It's not bad, Sparrow. It's really fucking hot." You turned and looked at him, annoyed that you were feeling so vulnerable. He swallowed hard before he added, "You always look good."

He tugged you a little closer to him, and a smile found your lips. "I think I get it. It's hard to be objective when you're friends with someone. You'd probably like the outfit better on someone else."

Somehow his eyes went wider. "I really don't think that's it at all, actually," he whispered. Then DJ Insomnia started playing a remix that actually sounded good for once, and you tugged Bradley toward your couch with your linked fingers.

"Here, watch me dance real quick, and then we can just hang out."

"Okay," he grunted, taking a seat.

"Just pretend I'm someone else," you told him as you ran one hand down your side until your palm settled on your hip. You started to turn in a slow circle as you moved your hips to the music that made its way to your living room.

"I don't really want to do that."

You looked back at Bradley over your shoulder and caught him staring at your butt. "You don't?"

He shook his head slowly as you turned to face him, still dancing. "Hell no," he whispered, watching your face now. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, and his dark gaze looked almost greedy, but he sat there and watched you dance, barely moving a muscle until you stopped along with the music.

"Well? What do you think?" you asked, holding your hands out to your sides.

He cleared his throat. "I think it's a good thing you don't have a boyfriend, because he'd already be jealous as fuck."

------------------------

You looked exhausted every single day now. Bradley started to bring you extra coffee from his own kitchen to try to combat your near constant yawning and fatigue each morning. You weren't just battling through sleepless nights at your apartment with DJ Insomnia, you were also working all day as a WSO and frequently working late into the night at the bar.

"I'm a little worried about you," he murmured one morning as you sipped the coffee he made. "You're working too hard, Sparrow." He didn't want to put voice to the way he felt about your bartending shifts. He made it a point not to stop by and see you there even though you'd asked him to. But he desperately wished you would quit. Every time he thought about you in your little costume with your red, pouty lips, he got more jealous inside. He could just imagine dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of eyes on you, and he didn't like the way he wanted to be the only one treated to that sight.

"I'm fine," you replied softly. "I've already made thousands in tip money, and it's only been two weeks." You tried to smile up at him, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. "I mean, it's not the best scenario, because sometimes the patrons get a little rowdy. But it's not the worst thing. I'll just keep it up for a few months or until I get deployed."

Bradley grunted. "Explain to me exactly how rowdy they get."

Now you were sipping your coffee and staring at the patches on his flight suit instead of looking at his face. "Well, nobody is supposed to touch us. But sometimes guys do try it. Especially when we're dancing. The bouncers are great and all, but they can only get over there so quickly."

Bradley leaned down until you were looking him in the eye. He knew he was no better than some random asshole at the bar. He was probably worse since he thought about you dancing for him every time he took a shower. But he couldn't stand how apprehensive you looked when you talked about that place. You never looked like that when you were alone with him.

"I think you should quit," he told you blandly.

"It's not that bad," you replied. "Maybe I'm not doing a good job of explaining it. Come visit one night, and I'll buy you a drink."

"Sparrow, literally the last thing I want to do is witness every drunk asshole at the bar trying to look up your skirt."

You scoffed. "I wear little booty shorts underneath it!"

He closed his eyes and grunted, "I could have lived without that visual." It would just add to his shower time fodder.

"Oh! You should come on Friday night," you said, patting him on the chest. "I'll invite all the guys! There are drink specials. Hey, Javy!"

You wandered away, and soon Bradley's fate was sealed. Javy, Jake, Mickey, Reuben and Bob were all planning on going to The Beauty Bar for happy hour, and he was expected to be there, too. It wasn't like it was your fault he was falling for you, so he was just going to have to go and be supportive. He'd make sure all the guys left you massive tips, too.

You were still exhausted on Friday morning, and Bradley didn't like the way you were yawning as you loaded into your jet. You were quieter now at work than you usually were, and he was tempted to tell you to start sleeping at his place to try to cut out some of your stress. Having you close by sounded good to him as well.

Maybe he'd hang out at your bar all night and take you home with him. He could carry you to his bed before retiring to the couch and pretending he was also in his bed. Maybe you would even serenade him with the song. You'd get a good night's sleep and then this never ending friendship loop would start all over again.

If he could think of a way to break the loop and turn it into a straight line that led to a relationship with you, he'd take it. That was probably the type of brainstorming he should be working on at this point since you were already working at the bar now. He was still trying to think of a way to tell you how he really felt without destroying the friendship as he drove his Bronco across the city to the extremely popular Beauty Bar.

"You're kidding," he muttered. There was a line to get inside, and he told you he'd be here by eight o'clock when the dancing started.

"Holy shit," Jake said as he and Javy headed up the sidewalk and got in line with him. "I guess there's no shortage of guys who want to look at Sparrow."

Javy nodded in agreement. "I mean, I don't really want to look at Sparrow, but I'll gladly take all the other girls."

That was literally the exact opposite of Bradley's thinking. He couldn't give a shit who else was working, his eyes would find you and stay there all night. Whether you were serving drinks, chatting with patrons or dancing, he'd be focused on nothing but you.

The guys all got their driver's licenses out, and the bouncer muttered, "Don't want any trouble from the three of you," as he checked them.

Shit, what the hell kind of place was this if you got warned at the door on your way in? But when he walked inside and saw how crowded it was along with the two random girls doing a line dance along the bar, he could kind of understand. It was mostly packed with guys, and Reuben, Mickey and Bob were waving them over. Bradley moved slowly through the crowd, and then he found you in your cute little outfit handing someone a beer, and his heart stopped.

Your smile looked like it was pasted on, but once you saw Bradley, your whole face lit up. You waved to him as you bounced up and down behind the bar, clearly excited that he was here. He started throwing his elbows and shoulders around to get to you, passing all of the other guys in the process.

"Rooster!" you called out over the music when he got closer. The two girls danced across the bar between you and him, but his focus didn't waver at all as he matched your smile. "Do you want a drink?"

He shrugged and said, "I kind of just wanted to see you."

"Oh," you replied, looking pleased enough that Bradley decided to push the boundary just a little bit.

"I don't really like it here, actually. If at any time you feel like quitting your job, I'll take you right to my place and let you sleep in peace and quiet again."

You poured a beer and handed it to him. "You don't like the girls?" you asked, glancing at the boots as they went by again.

"Not those ones."

You looked him dead in the eye and asked, "Which ones then?"

His fingers flexed on his pint of beer as someone tried to jostle him out of the way to get closer, but he didn't look away from you as he said, "Come on, Sparrow." His voice was a little rough, and now you looked confused. He would do it. He'd ruin everything just so you knew. But he didn't want you to feel bad for him.

Then someone called your first name, and you and he both turned to see an older woman holding up both hands. "I'm on in ten," you told him, reaching out to touch his fingers where they rested on the bar. "Let me take a few more drink orders before I have to dance."

"Right," he said. It was better that you didn't know. You were trying to make some money here, and he was already messing it up by talking to you for too long. "I'll catch you later."

He wandered off in the direction of the rest of the guys. "Yo, that blonde is so hot, and she made my drink perfectly," Mickey was saying as he drank something that looked fruity and sweet.

"I'm an equal opportunity aviator tonight," Jake drawled. "I see a girl in a little outfit, she gets my phone number."

"You're delusional is what you are," Bradley told him as he sipped his beer. "All of you better leave Sparrow a massive tip. Seriously. I'm not kidding."

He listened to the guys chat as he turned back toward the bar to check on you. It was almost time for you to dance, and his stomach was churning with anticipation and anxiety. He'd been dying to see you move like that again, but he could do without the memory of everyone else knowing how you looked when you shook your hips.

Then you broke away from some guy who looked like a real tool who was reaching for you across the bar. You backed up and bumped into the mini fridge behind you and winced, and Bradley took a few steps in your direction. He memorized what that guy was wearing and what he looked like, just in case.

But now it was time for you to dance, so at least you were able to step away from him. One of the cowgirls was helping you up onto the bar, and the crowd started cheering. The opening notes to Whole Lotta Love started playing, and Bradley's arms prickled with goosebumps as you ran your hand down to your waist and shook your hips from side to side. You were moving just like you had in your living room, but all he could think about were the times you sang this song to him. He wanted all of it to be just for him. He wanted to touch you the way you were touching yourself. He wanted to taste the sweat that glistened on your neck.

His jealousy flared, burning bright inside of him as he watched everyone crowd the bar as you strutted along with a smile on your face. And once again your smile brightened when you found him, and then you mouthed the lyrics, 'Way down inside, honey you need it. I'm gonna give you my love. I'm gonna give you my love.' You mouthed the words to him.

Bradley grunted. His body felt like it was pulled taut like a rubber band, about to snap. You stopped at the end of the bar and did a little twirl as the crowd sang along to the song, but you kept your eyes on him. Your lips perfectly formed every word, and he'd never forget this feeling for the rest of his life.

Then you turned away from him, and he instantly missed the way you were subtly giving him your attention. He moved forward a little bit through the crowd, wanting to get closer to you. When you spun around again, he saw you looking for him, and your smile wavered.

"Sparrow!" he called out, and when you found him again, you laughed. And he laughed, too. But this must have been the breaking point in the evening, because Bradley got hit in the shoulder as a fight broke out to his right. Everyone got shoved forward, and a random glass of beer hit the bar. You tried to jump out of the way as your feet got soaked, and then your boss started yelling at you to keep dancing. Now when you looked at Bradley, you were no longer smiling.

He called your first name this time as you tried to step over the wet part of the bar and continue to the other end. Bradley saw him before you did. That asshole guy was back, and he smiled as he looked up your skirt. Bradley fleetingly remembered you told him you wore shorts under your skirt, and he really hoped you had them on tonight. But that wasn't the end of it, because now he was reaching out for your foot.

"What the fuck?" Bradley shouted, handing his glass to a stranger as he tried to get to you. With that asshole's hand firmly wrapped around your ankle, you started to waver. You were nine feet up in the air, surrounded by glass bottles, and he knew he was closer to you than any of the bouncers.

"Stop it!" you shouted above the music as you tried to pull yourself free, but that guy was unrelenting. You took one more awkward step before your body turned sideways. You were about to fall off the bar. Bradley fought his way forward as you tried to correct yourself, but it was too late, now it looked like you were going to land on your wrist on the bar, and probably break a bone.

Bradley lunged just in time, and thankfully you saw him. You trusted him, and right now he could see that fact in your eyes. You let yourself fall forward into the crowd. Into his open arms.

"Oh my god, Bradley!" you gasped as your arms wound around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. You were shaking.

"I've got you," he promised as the song played on. He wanted to throw that guy up against the wall, but he was too content holding you to him as you buried your face against his neck. Letting go of you wasn't really an option. He wrapped one big hand around your thigh while the other squeezed your waist. "I have you, Sparrow."

Jake and Javy were there now, and Bradley nodded to the guy who grabbed you. He'd let them take care of it, because now your lips were brushing his ear. "That was terrifying," you whispered, and someone finally changed the song while another dancer climbed onto the bar.

Bradley made the decision to carry you outside into the cool night, walking slowly down the block where it was quieter as you caught your breath. "Are you okay now?" he asked softly.

You nodded against him, and when he adjusted you in his arms, you quickly whispered, "Please don't put me down yet."

"I won't," he promised before pressing his lips to your collarbone. You whimpered, and he couldn't help it. He said, "I don't ever want to put you down. And for the record, I don't want you to dance here anymore either. I never wanted you to."

You lifted your head away from him, and Bradley practically melted as your fingers tugged through the hair at the back of his head. Your lips were pouty, and your eyes were trusting as you asked, "You never wanted me to?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

He knew he had to say it and risk ruining everything, because pretending like this friendship with you was enough was actually hurting him now. He looked at your pretty face as he said, "Because I'm in love with you. And I'm selfish and jealous, and I don't want a bunch of other guys watching you dance around in this little outfit. Dancing around to my song."

"Bradley." You leaned closer, and you didn't stop until your lips were on his. This was better than he thought it could be, already so comfortable around you. Already addicted to your voice and the way you felt in his arms. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you kissed him, parting his lips with yours until you were tasting him. When you pulled away with a little moan, you whispered his name again while you ran your thumb along his mustache.

"Why did you dance to that song?" he demanded gently.

You pressed another kiss to his mouth before you said, "It made it less scary to get up on the bar when I was listening to a song that reminds me of you."

"Why?" he demanded again.

Then you very easily and simply said, "Because I'm in love with you, too."

"Honey," he sighed against your lips, smiling this time as you slowly unwrapped your legs and slid down the front of his body. Once you were standing on your own, Bradley let his hands fall to your hips, and you wiggled yourself snug against his body.

You felt just like his shower fantasies and all of his other fantasies, if he was being honest with himself. He thought about you all the time. You nibbled on his lips and dragged your fingers through his hair until he was frankly afraid he was going to get hard in his jeans right here on the sidewalk. He pried his lips from yours, making you pout, and he chuckled as he said, "Sparrow, you're killing me."

Your pout grew more pronounced as you said, "I want you to call me Honey again."

His smile must look ridiculous now as he said, "Honey."

"That's better," you said as your lips curled into a grin. "Let's get out of here."

"Do you think you should go back inside first?" he asked, hoping you'd just ditch the whole thing with him, but you nodded in response.

"Yeah, good idea. I'll go quit in person," you said, taking his hand in yours.

He stood his ground in response, and you weren't able to move him, but one tug on your hand and you were headed right back to his arms. "Excellent. As soon as you do that, we can talk about how we aren't friends anymore."

"We're not?" you asked, and as soon as that pout started returning, Bradley leaned down and kissed you.

"Hell no," he whispered against your lips. "You're gonna be my girlfriend. And I'll be your boyfriend. And I'm going to take you back to my house. And this time when I carry you to bed, I'm going to stay there with you all night. If that's cool."

"It's so cool," you promised him, and this time when you tugged on his hand, he followed you back up the sidewalk. "It's almost as cool as a man in his thirties who has a keyboard."

----------------------------

You were honestly impressed by the way the other guys weren't phased at all. Maybe it was obvious that you and Bradley belonged together, but none of them found it surprising that you were suddenly a couple. It really wasn't sudden at all in your mind though. There was a slow build of trust and appreciation over time that turned physical as soon as Bradley admitted he was in love with you. And four months later, none of it had let up. In fact, you couldn't get enough, and neither could he.

"That's it?" he asked, pointing to the single box left in your trunk.

"That's it," you told him as you picked it up. And then he picked you up and carried you toward his house while you laughed. You passed the planter boxes full of flowers and went through the pink door.

"Then it's official. You live here now. Welcome home, Honey."

"Oh please," you replied as he set you down. "I've been unofficially living here for months."

"All thanks to DJ Insomnia," he whispered, leaning down and placing an absolutely filthy kiss on your lips.

You moaned. "I owe him so much."

Bradley shrugged and said, "I think we would have eventually arrived at the same conclusion regardless."

"What conclusion would that be?"

"That you're in love with me."

You wanted to deny it, but you couldn't. "Help me unpack the rest of my clothes and shoes so we can explore another one of your shower fantasies."

Bradley moaned and said, "Absolutely. I'll meet you in the bedroom. I just need to get something first."

That's how you ended up putting your clothes on hangers while Bradley resurfaced a few minutes later with his keyboard. Instead of helping you in any way, he sat on the bed and started playing Whole Lotta Love.

"I asked you to help me," you told him with a laugh as you tossed a pair of your shorts at him while he played. "You're worse than DJ Insomnia."

"Just for that, you get a remix too."

---------------------------

I'm not exactly sure how "Sneak Peek: Bradley's Version" ended up happening, but I hope you enjoyed it. I might like it even better than the Jake fic! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

1K notes · View notes

itneverendshere · 9 months ago

Note

Bartender reader :) reader and Rafe get in a fight and it’s a big one (while they are living together) and reader needs some space and decides to sleep on the couch/guest bedroom but Rafe completely forgets about the fight once he realizes what she’s doing and puts his foot down “you can be mad but you’re still sleeping in this bed” kinda deal?

i feel like their fights never last bc they can't be away from each other that long and bc they're just too disgustingly in love🙂‍↔️ thank you for the request!🤎

i would never do you wrong- r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: a little angst at first, but happy ending obviously.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands gripping your phone a little too tight. The conversation you had been having for the past hour felt like running headfirst into a brick wall—no, arguing with a brick wall.

“I don’t see why this is such a big deal,” Rafe groaned, like a toddler, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’ve been working nonstop. You deserve a break.”

“A break?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Baby, I just got promoted. I can’t take time off like that.”

“You’re acting like this job will disappear if you take a week off. I’ve already planned the trip, I’ve already talked to Ward. You don’t even have to worry about money—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut him off, standing now, your body vibrating with frustration. “You don’t get it! This promotion means everything to me. I worked my ass off for it. And now you’re telling me to throw that away for a vacation?

“I’m not telling you to throw anything away, baby. God, you make it sound like I’m asking you to quit.” Rafe crossed his arms, his brow furrowed, and looked at you like you were the unreasonable one, like you'd just insulted him. “It’s just one week. We can afford to relax.”

“Yeah and what about the wedding? If we’re gonna pay for it, we gotta save up.”

He let out an incredulous laugh, his head shaking like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You do remember I’m rich, right?”

You blinked, stunned. “Seriously? That’s your solution? Just throw money at it?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “That’s not what I meant. I can pay for the wedding,” he interrupted, stopping in his tracks. “You’re forgetting I have more than enough money to take care of both of us.”

You closed your eyes for a second, breathing deeply. “I don’t want you to pay for it all.” You were pacing now, “It sounds like you think we can just forget about budgeting and responsibilities because you’ve got a trust fund.”

Rafe threw his hands up, exasperated. “I’m just saying we can afford to take some time for ourselves. You don’t need to stress over every little thing.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning sharply to face him. “I’m not ‘stressing over every little thing,’ Rafe. I’m being realistic. We have a wedding to plan. We’ve got bills. I’ve got my career to think about. And no, I don’t want your dad’s money involved in any of that.”

“We have an entire year to save up,” He stared at you, a steely glint in his eyes. “So what? You’re just gonna run yourself into the ground? Burn out completely?”

Your jaw clenched as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m doing what I need to do. I’ve always done that.”

“And I’ve always been here to help you. But it’s like you don’t even want it.”

“That’s not what this is about,” you argued, stepping closer to him now. “I don’t want to be dependent on that money. I don’t want us to start our marriage with me feeling like I’m just along for the ride.”

Rafe’s face hardened, his lips pressing into a thin, flat line. “So what? You think I’m trying to make you feel small? Like you can’t handle your shit?”

“No. I just want to build something with you. With you, Rafe, not because of Ward’s money.”

He looked away as he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, the muscle moving under his skin as he swallowed whatever hot-headed thing you knew he felt like saying. Then, with a frustrated exhale, he said, “It’s not like I wanted to rely on him either. But I’m trying to make things easier for us.”

“And I appreciate that, I do.” You sighed, taking a breath. “But this promotion... it’s my chance to prove myself. I want to know that I earned everything we have. Not that it came from someone else’s checkbook.”

Rafe’s eyes moved to yours, and you could see the tension still there. He slowly let out a long breath. The air hissed softly between his teeth as his chest fell, shoulders sagging “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

“I learned from the best,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

He let out a bitter chuckle, it didn’t hold any joy. “I’m not trying to control everything. I just want to make sure we have time for us before everything else gets in the way.”

You nodded, “I know. But you can’t just expect me to drop everything and go on vacation because you’ve already decided it.”

“I thought you’d want to spend time with me,” he argued, “I’m trying to make time for us, and you’re treating it like it’s a problem.”

You sighed for what it felt like the millionth time that night, rubbing your temples. “It’s not that, baby. I want to be with you. You know that. But I can’t ignore everything else that’s going on.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to find the right thing to say. Finally, he muttered, “Fine. If you don’t want to take the time off, then don’t.”

You blinked at him, taken aback. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re making it seem like I’m asking for something ridiculous.”

You scoffed, frustration taking over again.

“Because to me, it is ridiculous! You don’t get it. You don’t have to think about whether you can afford to take time off, but I do. You’ve never had to think about that stuff.”

His face tightened, jaw clenching as he stared at you like he was trying to stay calm. “And that’s why I’m telling you, you don’t have to worry about it. I’ve got us covered. You’re acting like I’m trying to sabotage your career.”

“You’re not listening to me! This promotion isn’t just a paycheck, it’s everything I’ve worked for. I’ve spent years proving I’m good enough, and now you’re asking me to step back like it’s no big deal.”

Rafe crossed his arms, his posture stiff, defensive. “I’m asking for one week. One. Fucking. Week. You act like the world’s gonna end if you take some time for yourself.”

“Because for me, it doesn’t stop! You don’t understand what it’s like—”

He cut you off again, you hated when he did it. “Don’t. Don’t stand there and tell me I don’t understand. You think I don’t get what it’s like to have shit on the line? I’ve been under pressure my whole life.”

You flinched at his words, your eyes narrowing. “This is different. I’ve always had to make sure I could take care of myself.”

His laugh was bitter, almost sarcastic. “Is that what you think this is? You’re my fiancé.”

You frowned, feeling the hurt in his words, but you couldn’t let it go. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m in your shadow, like I’m always gonna be ‘Rafe’s wife’ instead of my own person.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing now. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Because every time we talk about this, you make it sound like money is the solution to everything. Like we can just throw cash at our problems and they’ll disappear.”

He stopped pacing, turning to face you, his expression darkening. “Because it fucking helps, okay?”

You pinched your eyes closed, “I’m just trying to make sure I don’t lose myself in all of this.”

He let out a harsh breath, his shoulders tense. “Lose yourself? You think I’m trying to take that from you?”

“No,” you whispered, wiping at your eyes. “But it feels like you don’t get why this is so important to me.”

“Are you serious right now?” he cut you off. “You know what, do whatever you want. I’ll just cancel the trip.”

“Rafe—”

“Forget it,” he said, already turning away, heading for the door. “Goodnight.”

He didn't even slam the door.

You sat down on the bed, your head in your hands, trying to calm down. You glance at your phone, thinking about texting him, apologizing maybe. But you weren’t ready for that yet. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You needed to get out of your own head, even just for a little while. You couldn’t stand being in the same room after that argument.

Without thinking much more about it, you grabbed your pillow and the spare blanket from the closet, making your way toward the living bedroom. The couch in there wasn’t as comfortable or as big, but it would give you the distance you needed for the time being. You were pulling back the covers when you heard your bedroom door creak open. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was him.

He couldn't stay away longer than five minutes.

“Really?” His voice was low, almost disbelieving. “You’re gonna sleep in here?”

You stayed facing the bed, not turning to look at him. “I can’t do this right now.”

There was a pause, and then you heard him step closer. “No. That’s not how we’re doing this.”

You frowned, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you can be pissed at me. You can need space, fine. But you’re not sleeping in here.” His voice was firm, and when you finally turned to look at him, his blue eyes were locked on yours, unwavering.

“Rafe—”

“I’m serious, baby." He moved closer, gently pulling the blanket from your hands. “You’re mad. I get it. But you’re still sleeping in our bed.”

You shook your head, trying to push the blanket back toward him. “I just—”

“No.” His voice softened, but he was still insistent. “I’m not letting you run away from me. We’ll deal with it. But we’re not doing this. You’re not sleeping alone.”

You looked at him and saw the same tiredness, the same frustration, in his face. He held your gaze for a moment longer before reaching out, and taking your hand in his.

“Come on. You belong in our bed.”

There was no fight left in you as you let him pull you back down the hall, back into the warmth of your shared space. As you settled beside him, Rafe reached over, his hand finding yours under the blankets, he traced small, absent patterns on the back of your hand, like you weren’t fighting just ten minutes ago.

He sighed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. I already know you’re capable of handling anything.”

“It’s not about proving it to you,” you admitted, “It’s about proving it to myself. I need to know that no matter what happens—good or bad—I’ve earned it. That I deserve it.”

Rafe was quiet for a couple seconds, his eyes stuck on the ceiling. Then, his grip on your hand tightened slightly, “I hate this,” he muttered finally.

You turned your head to look at him, “Hate what?”

“This.” He gestured between the two of you with his free hand. “Fighting like this. Making you feel like I’m pulling you in two different directions. Like you have to choose.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You’re not making me choose. I just, I want to build something for myself.”

He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head.

“You think I don’t get that? You think I’m just some spoiled asshole who’s never had to work for anything?” He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you more directly. “But I do get it. That’s why I’m trying so hard to be what you need me to be.”

Your heart twisted at the look on his face. He reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face.

“Every time I look at you,” he murmured, his gaze softening, “I see everything you’ve done to get here. Everything you’ve pushed through. And it kills me, because I feel like I’ve just been dead weight. You spent months holding me together when I was falling apart. I could barely get out of bed some days baby, and you were there, making sure I was eating, making sure I was taking my meds, making sure I didn’t—I know how much you gave up for me.”

“Baby, stop,” you mumbled, the hurt in your chest almost unbearable. It hadn't been easy, but you didn't regret a single thing, wouldn't change anything. You'd do it all over again if you had to.

“No.” His voice was firm, “I hate that I put you through that. That I made you carry all that weight when you should’ve been focusing on yourself, your career. Hell, I wasn’t even there for you when you got promoted, because I was too busy trying to keep my shit together. And now I want to make up for that.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek, feeling the way his jaw unclenched under your touch. “You don’t have to make up for anything. You were going through something, and I wanted to be there for you.”

“I know you did,” he said softly, “But that’s why I’m doing this. I’m trying to be the guy you deserve—the guy who makes things easier for you, who makes you feel like you can breathe again.” He shook his head, teasing just a little, “But every time I try, it feels like I’m just reminding you of all the ways I’ve let you down.”

You blinked back the sudden tears. “You haven’t let me down. I need to find a balance. Between us and—” You gestured vaguely around you, trying to explain everything you were feeling. “And everything else.”

“I get that,” he murmured, leaning in closer until his forehead rested against yours. “But I also need you to let me in. Let me help you. Not because I want to throw money at it, but because I love you, and I want to see you happy. Not burnt out and exhausted.”

His voice broke a little on the last word, and you felt your initial stubbornness crumbling. “I know,” You squeezed your eyes shut, “I know. I just don’t want to lose everything I’ve been working for. I don’t want to get so wrapped up in us that I forget who I am outside of this.”

Rafe let out a shaky breath, his fingers brushing along your jaw.

“You’re not going to lose yourself, okay? Not with me. You’re always going to be you. Even when you’re stressed and stubborn and driving me up the wall.” His lips quirked in a small, sad smile. “I’ll still be here. I just want to have a little time with you before life pulls us in a million directions again.”

You leaned into him, pressing your face against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his chin resting on top of your head. It wasn’t that you didn’t want his help. You just needed to do this one thing for youself. You moved closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered earnestly, “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I don’t want to spend time with you. I do. It’s just hard to balance everything.”

You didn’t want to fight anymore. You wanted to figure it out. You wanted to compromise, because that's what you two always did.

“I’ll take the time off,” You felt him move beside you, his eyes on you now, curious but cautious. “But… I need a little time. Can we plan the trip for a couple of months from now? Once things settle down with work?”

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his eyes searching your face. “You’d do that?”

You nodded, lifting your head. “I know I’ve been all over the place about this, but I get that we need time together. I just can’t drop everything right now. But in two months, I’ll be ready. We can go wherever you want.”

A slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He shifted onto his side, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You mean it?”

“I mean it,” you said, smiling back at him. “We’ll go. No work emails, no distractions. Just us.”

He let out a breath he’d been holding, his fingers tracing along your jaw. “Two months, huh?”

You looked up at him, rolling your eyes lightly. “Yes, two months. And I’m going to hold that ‘no work emails’ rule, for you too.”

He chuckled, his lips curving into a genuine smile this time. “I figured.”

You swat at his chest lightly. “I’m serious. I want this trip to be for us. I need it to be something that we’re both looking forward to—not just you dragging me away because you think I’m overworking.”

“I know. I promise when we do go, it’ll be perfect. Wherever you want. No distractions.”

“Good,” you whispered, resting your head back on his shoulder. You listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. This was the peace after the storm, the moment when everything felt like it was falling into place again.

Rafe’s hand gently traced patterns on your arm, and he pressed a soft kiss to your head, “I’m proud of you. For everything. The promotion, the way you’ve been handling all of this. I’m proud to call you mine.”

Your heart squeezed at his words, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “Thank you, baby,” you murmured. “That means more to me than you know.”

He smiled, “Just don’t ever think you have to choose between me and your dreams, okay? I want you to have it all. I want us to have it all.”

You nodded, the last of your resistance melting away. “I know. And I want us to have it all, too. Together.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, “Good,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “’Cause I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

593 notes · View notes

nekomanager · 8 months ago

Text

WHAT GOES AROUND COMES AROUND! ♡

- TWO of TWO -

ATSUMU thought that getting you out of his system was the solution for his annoyance towards you, but as it turned out, you got other parts of him raging instead. [Part ONE here]

🔖 f!reader, pwp, hate to horny to lovers, fingerfcking, squrting, blowjob, pussyeating, creampie, slight marking, semi-public sex

"Aaaargh! It turns out Tsum-Tsum's the highest point-earner for today," Bokuto proclaimed, slinging an arm over his teammate. "Means you get the reward, huh? How lucky!"

Reward? Atsumu almost scoffed. Reward...when he heard that word only one thing came to mind: your mouth around his dick.

Oh shit. He just got hard just at the thought. Sighing in frustration, he headed towards the showers, claiming his reward of having to take a bath first while his teammates get to clean up the court and keep things in order.

Taking his clothes off, his cock instantly sprung up the moment he pulled his shorts down. He's proud of his size but he'd be even more proud if he could stretch you again with it.

He groaned, turning the shower faucet on and letting the cold water cascade down his chiseled body. All his mind could do was run around in circles just thinking about you ever since he fucked you in the infirmary.

Now, you're too busy arranging their next out-of-country games that he could barely even talk to you. If there's a chance, it's either you're in a call or you're running around doing errands.

Maybe...you're avoiding him too.

Tsumu grunted and rolled his eyes. After what happened with you last time he could never ever allow you to avoid him again.

It's not because he's looking forward to having your soft lips against his again. No, totally not that!

Fuck! It's certainly that and everything about you.

From your sweet scent to how tasty you were dripping down his chin—they were all ingrained in his head. And his hand was persistent on his cock as he replayed the scene all over again. Damn! It's easy to get a chick he could waste time for some pump and dump, but not anymore. Ever since he got you, there's been no one else and this was the first and only time. He must be going crazy.

You're driving him crazy.

Biting down his lip, he went double time on his length. He thought that having sex with you would get you out of his system, but it was the other way around. He got a taste of you now and there's no damn way he's gonna live without—

Tsumu's eyes widened in speculation. He stopped halfway as the sound of the shower curtain drew his attention. He turned around and was welcomed by your surprise, eyes blinking twice in in the sight of his naked glory.

"Wha- What'cha doin' here?" he asked, trying to use the curtain as a cover to his hard-on. Why was he bein' shy all of a sudden?

You pulled your towel closer to you. "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Bokuto-san spilled his sports drink on me and he said I can use the shower," you tried to explain, avoiding eye contact.

"T-There's a lot out there why would ya open this?"

"Hey, I thought someone left the water open. It's just an accident. Who would've thought you'd be here when everyone's out there," you said, trying not look his way, but the way the droplets ran across his body was making you remember all the bad things he did to you. Oh no! It's dangerous. You shook the thought away. '"F-Fine! I'll just go."

You were about to leave him when the boys' chatting and hollering began echoing in the room.

Tsumu ran his glance from your worried expression to your barely clothed body. Realizing your situation, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you inside the shower in a panic.

He got you in his arms, heaving as your chests were flushed against each other. The Jackals entered the shower area, throwing insults and gossips around, their laughter and loud voices echoing.

"It's sad that Y/N's not around often recently," Shoyo started.

"Oh, yeah! That must be why Atsumu's been hitting it hard lately," Bokuto replied.

"He misses her."

"Definitely," The silver-haired agreed. "He better chalk her up before someone else comes in and steals his chance."

Tsumu gulped, his face heating up at the shocking revelation. Traitors! Traitors! You gazed upon him, eyes wide with disbelief and curiosity. "Is that true?" you whispered and you felt his hard-on got even harder against your stomach.

Ha! There's no way– It's just a joke...was all he could think of replying but Omi's interjection got in first.

"Does he even have a chance at all."

Well, Atsumu's fuming and he couldn't just let that comment fly away. "Shut it..."

Before he could even continue, you got on your knees, towel sliding off your body as you did. Now, his cock was just inches away from your face. "Wha...what're ya doin' Y/N?"

Swallowing thickly, "You look..." Your hand pumped his heated length slowly. "Enraged"

Licking the tip of his cock, you had him red-faced and eyes shut in pleasure.

"Ohhh...fuck~" His voice came out shaking and so was his breathing. "Fuck...fuck ya!"

The boys went silent havung heard him.

"Oh, Tsumu's still here!" Shoyo cheered. "Wai- Do you admit it now that you actually like Y/N?"

His fingers tangled around your hair. He'd been fantasizing about this every night since then. Just you and your pretty mouth gulping his cock like a starving beast. "Oh, yeah! Yeah, that's right...so fuckin' right."

"We all thought so! At last, you admit it! You keep on yapping about her everytime we just know you're so damn into her."

"So...fuckin into her–" he maneuvered your head as he dug in your mouth, deep throat. Your hands gripped his ass tight, marking him with your handprints in pink while tears began brimming your eyes.

Any more of this– Any more of this and–

He pushed you off as his cum spurted, painting your tits so beautifully while saliva dripped at the corner of your lips.

"So pretty..." he huffed and his dick snapped upright again. Your eyes grew. Tsumu's still raring to go and the pulsation in between your legs intensified.

He saw you gulped with lust in your eyes and he swore he couldn't take it anymore. You're so sexy cute that he couldn't resist so he leaned down to kiss you, carefully scooping you up in his arms as his mouth devoured your tongue and lips aggressively.

Groaning in your kiss, he itched to squeeze your ass and nibbled the shell of your ear. Wanting more and more of you, he switched off the shower as the only thing he wanted to be drenched right now was your pussy and it would be all because of him. He placed your palms against the wall, smoothed your back, bending you a little. He got on his knees and was face-to-face with your ass. He took a sharp breath and a handful of your bouncy flesh before pressing his nose against one of the cheeks and taking a huge tantalizing bite that made you crave for him.

With both hands on your ass, he parted your legs and flipped open your folds with his thumbs. You're glistening wet. "Ugh...yer so crazy beautiful can't take it myself."

He immediately had a mouthful of you—tongue flicking fast as he slurped your overflowing arousal. At the same time, his hands were massaging your shaky and fleshy thighs.

He's crazy. It's crazy. He wants you. Nothing else. No one else. His mouth took over your other ass cheek to mark your skin, while his fingers found their way inside your pussy, pumping relentlessly as he sucked on your plump flesh. The shaking of your legs heightened and you bit down on your lip to control your moans.

"Ahhh...fuck!" he hissed, removing his fingers and releasing your climax. Your juices showered down his chest and he was quick to give your pussy one last lick. His tongue began travelling up from the spine of your back to your shoulder, giving you a sensual bite at the spot.

"Feel how hard yer makin' me," he said, while the length of his cock rubbed across your pussy.

"Mhmn-" you still want more of him. No, you want all of him. His entire huge cock railing you just as deliciously good as last time in the clinic.

He was tormenting you with that slow friction yet he was dying to be inside you too.

"Augh, shit!" he cursed. "I never fucked anyone more than once, ya know."

"Tsumuuu~" It came out as a plea.

"If I shove this cock right in ya again that would mean yer mine, " he spoke almost out of breath. "Yer all mine."

You stepped back and pressed closer against him. "Then take me."

He grunted and rammed his cock right into you.

"Oh god!" he groaned, his head tilting back while you had your lips pressed, muffling your cries. The sensation of your walls coiling around him and his cock finally deep inside you made you both cum all of a sudden.

"W-Who's that?" Shoyo said, showering in the stall next to yours.

Atsumu completely forgot that his teammates were just around. He didn't care though. He didn't care so he started thrusting, taking you by surprise. With his cock driving you wildly, you placed a hand over your mouth avoiding the chances of getting caught by the whole team.

It's so stupid how much he was craving for all of you when you used to tick him off so bad. Now, he's crazy for you. Perhaps, all this time, he just wanted your attention, but now he's inside you and making you feel so good. You fit him like a glove and he got just the ideal cock to please you.

"Ooh shit! Yer perfect...so goddamn perfect for me." Tsumu leaned closer to your ear and whispered, "I ain't gonna live without you."

Turning you to your side, he lifted one of your legs up and fucked you even deeper like he'd been waiting for this moment to come for a long long while. His balls were slapping so hard against your ass it was echoing around the vicinity.

"Shit! Tsumu, are you doing what we think you're doing?" Bokuto asked, intrigued by the sounds he heard.

"Oh, fuck! Yes!" he huffed while he was pounding ferociously to insanity. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

His teammates hollered both in disgust and in playful teasing. The two of you couldn't even hear a thing from them though. You were both too busy fucking like crazy until a loud thud caught your attention. It was Shoyo's showerhead. It fell and slid towards the gap in between.

You tapped Tsumu's shoulder twice.

There's no way there would be two pairs of feet inside the stall. You worried but Tsumu's quick to pick up the cue. He raised your legs up, hooking them on his elbows with his hips were still thrusting endlessly. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping yourself up on his frame.

"Sorry!" Shoyo apologized but you hardly ever heard him. Your mind was too lost in the pleasure Tsumu was delivering with his brute cock.

"Damn! Tis crazy. I'm goin' crazy."

Despite all your efforts to conceal your moans, he was completely vocal, doing nothing to hide his. Oh, how you'd want to cry for his name over and over again.

"We're hurrying up, Tsumu." Bokuto snickered as sound of running water began to dissipate, "So you can enjoy yourself there."

Oh, yeah. Damn, he will!

Tsumu buried his head in between the mounds of your breast while you pressed your face on top of his head. You're getting there. He's getting there!

"Don't stay too long or you'll get sick!" Shoyo reminded before you heard the sound of the door closing. The boys were no longer inside and Tsumu immediately let out what he'd been repressing all along.

"Unbelievable! Yer so fucking amazing! Y/N...Y/N!"

"Tsumu! Tsumhm..." you let out a big cry and trembled in his arms.

He chased his own, doubling his pace. He wanted to leave a mark inside you and claim you as his so he shot his load with one forceful shove of his cock. His thick semen filled you up, some of the liquid spilled when he pulled out his cock.

"Shhh...shhh..." he soothed you, caressing the back of your head while he cradled you in his arms.

You faced him. His stomach flipped and chest tightened. He kissed you still not letting go of you.

"I can't believe I'm kissin' ya." He said, sounding a bit babyish, "Really thought you hated me."

Yeah, it sounded stupid, especially when you already did more than just kissing.

"No!" You shook your head and tightened your hold on him. "I just get a little shy around you."

Tsumu blushed and felt relieved. Whatever your reason was for being shy around him mattered little now. The most important thing was he already got you.

Gently, he got you back on your feet and fetched the towel he hung.

"From now on..." He threw the towel over your head and wrapped you with it. "I'll take care of ya, while ya take care of the team."

You smiled and tiptoed to give him a chaste kiss.

"Achooo...!" he sneezed, the moment you parted and he blushed. "Ugh...that was too lame."

You chuckled and invited him inside the towel.

tag! you're it ♡

@jaxyy219 @liquidcatt @aria-in-wonderland @galaneiaeris

@meeeepsworld @lovelypotatomunches1 @nanathecannibal

@kurooangel @kyokoyya @pixelcafe-network

#atsumu smut #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu smut #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #atsumu scenarios #atsumu drabbles #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x female reader #atsumu imagines #haikyuu atsumu #hq atsumu #msby atsumu #msby x reader #—🏐 haikyuu

386 notes · View notes

violetrainbow412-blog · 9 months ago

Text

Day 14: cellar

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

TW: Mentions of blood at the end (mildly gross), vomit, Spencer is somewhat rude but it's for the sake of the plot

Throughout his life, Spencer Reid had always been the smartest person in the room. There was no doubt about that, right? He always had the correct answer.

Until you came along.

“Doctor, what exactly are we looking for?”

“Any indication that the suspect kept them here.”

He always answered you reluctantly, and although he didn’t want to admit it, he hated having to team up with you.

There wouldn’t have been a problem if you were just someone above average intelligence, he could tolerate that. But the problem was that you were smarter than him. Maybe your IQ was slightly lower than his, but the main issue was that you were twice as creative. You always found the strangest but most effective solutions, and your mind was always racing a mile a minute. You seemed to have boundless energy, and when you managed to focus, you became the most meticulous person on Earth.

And he couldn’t stand that someone else had come along and displaced him. He was the brains of the team, that was his role. But with you there, what was he now?

You both cautiously descended into the basement of the house, guns drawn in case the worst happened. However, you found yourself in an incredibly luxurious room, dimly lit and apparently housing an extensive wine cellar.

“Lucky us. If we don’t find anything, at least we can steal a few bottles.”

“Everything here is evidence. Don’t touch anything without gloves.”

“I’m aware of that, Doctor. It’s called a sense of humor.”

You seemed to exasperate him on purpose every time, and he made an effort to simply ignore the feeling.

You both split up to search for anything, and meanwhile, you admired the elements around you. The wines were behind some kind of glass display, and LED lights illuminated the space.

You wondered how much it had cost Hotch to get a warrant for the space belonging to a millionaire, although it was probably because you already had a solid profile and some circumstantial evidence.

You thought the guy wouldn’t be so stupid as to keep the women in that place, and that the purpose was likely human trafficking or some other sick thing elites do.

“Find anything?” your partner asked. He only spoke to you when strictly necessary.

“Nothing. You?”

“Nothing suspicious.”

You both sighed at the same time. If you had been a little less resentful, you might have noticed how similar you were, even sharing some mannerisms.

“We should tell Hotch. Maybe we’ll have better luck later.”

You started walking toward the stairs, resigned, but when you pushed the wooden door, you couldn’t open it.

“It’s stuck.”

“Are you doing it right?”

“I’m not an idiot, Doctor. I know how to open a door.”

“Well, excuse me, Doctor. It’s just that physiologically, there are physical differences between us, so I assumed you might need help.”

“I didn’t know you were a misogynist.”

“I’m not a misogynist.”

“Oh, so it’s something personal. Got it. You don’t hate all women, just this one in particular.”

“It’s locked,” Spencer muttered to himself after trying to push with all his strength.

“Wow! You reinvent the wheel, honey. You’re brilliant.”

Your sarcasm irritated him, and everything about you frustrated him. He never thought he could feel so much for someone until he met you.

“Where are you going?”

“Downstairs, duh. You don’t expect the door to magically open if I just stand here, do you?”

Reluctantly, he followed you back down the stairs, and when you both pulled out your phones, you realized there was no signal. If there was no reception, there was no way to call anyone for help.

“We’re fucked,” he muttered quietly.

Rarely did you hear the man curse, but whenever he was with you, that likelihood increased significantly.

With no better idea, you leaned against the wall and stayed silent. Spencer, imitating you, did the same on the opposite wall, next to the wine bottles.

The cellar was just a tiny room, so it amused you that he tried to keep his distance from you even though you could see him the entire time. Still, you said nothing; though you liked to annoy him, you weren’t in the mood right now.

“What are the chances we’ll run out of oxygen?”

“None. It’s not a sealed room, so oxygen can enter through the cracks in the door we came through.”

“Oh.”

You fell silent for a moment, and Spencer thought that was the end of the conversation. Unfortunately for him, you had other plans.

“What if we starve to death?”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re not going to die of starvation. The human body can survive many days without food. In the hypothetical case that we got trapped here, we’d die of dehydration first.”

“Speak for yourself. I see plenty to drink here.”

“Alcohol has the opposite effect, it dehydrates you. That would just make you die faster.”

“It would be an incalculable loss for humanity. They’d lose the FBI’s smartest agent…” you said, and for the first time, he smiled “And you too, of course.”

There was no need for him to respond; his expression told you everything you needed to know.

“It’s impossible to talk to you.”

“Is that why you hate me?” you murmured softly, as if speaking to a child “Because you’re not the smart one anymore?”

“I am the smart one. And I wouldn’t mind sharing that title if the other person wasn’t so cocky.”

“I’m not cocky. I’m just aware of what I know. And let’s be honest, you hate my unconventional way of solving everything. I suppose your condition makes you see everything with pure logic.”

“My what?”

“Your condition,” you repeated as if it were obvious “Autism?”

“I’m not autistic!”

“Have you ever been tested?”

“No.”

“Well, I’d recommend it.”

“Likewise.”

“I’m not autistic. I can handle social situations.”

“Well, there’s something undiagnosed in you that’s definitely off.”

One of your laughs echoed through the room, which only irritated him more.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.”

Spencer didn’t grasp the implications of those words. He was just too annoyed by your defiant attitude to think of anything other than telling you that you really couldn’t make him shut up. However, when he saw the smug smile on your lips, he began to realize his mistake.

You slowly approached him, never breaking eye contact, leaning toward him slightly. Immediately, the man recoiled, his expression showing almost fear at whatever you were planning to do.

With each inch you moved closer, he remained frozen, completely stunned, and just as your breath brushed against his, you reached out to unlock the display case. Carefully, you pulled out one of the bottles and stepped back, nearly laughing at the effect you had on him.

“You know that when you tell someone to ‘make you shut up,’ you’re suggesting they kiss you, right?”

“That’s not true.”

“It is, Reid,” you laughed. The bottle was already open, so you just had to pull the cork, hearing a soft pop.

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” you replied cheekily, raising your eyebrows in a flirtatious way, making him curse under his breath for not realizing his mistake earlier.

You took a deep swig from the bottle, and as soon as the liquid touched your lips, you knew it couldn’t be wine. It had a metallic taste, with a viscous consistency and a salty touch that immediately coated your palate.

It wasn’t wine. It was blood.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Reid shouted when he saw you spit it out to the side. You had dropped the bottle, and it shattered into pieces as it hit the floor.

After seeing you collapse to your knees, vomiting, and noticing the consistency and color of the liquid on the floor, it didn’t take him long to deduce what was happening.

“Check the others,” you choked out, trying to hold back the retching.

Spencer didn’t waste any time and hurried to do what you asked, gently shaking each bottle only to find that they all contained the same thing. Each label had a date on it, and he felt a shiver run down his spine when he realized what it meant: it wasn’t the aging date, it was the birth year of the victims.

“Reid?” you heard a male voice call from outside. The same voice said your name, and that’s when Morgan appeared at the top of the stairs.

You didn’t plan on staying there after what had happened. You needed air, water, and to wash your mouth and hands… take a shower, if necessary.

As best you could, you stumbled outside, walking past the other agents who asked how you were, heading straight for the bathroom, ready to empty the remaining contents of your stomach into the toilet.

In the midst of it all, you felt someone enter the room, carefully holding your hair with one hand and supporting your back with the other.

“Easy,” the person whispered. It was Reid.

He patiently waited until you finished, then handed you a plastic bottle filled with water. You took a sip, gargled, and spat it out, repeating the process several times.

You saw your partner kneeling beside you with a patient but clearly concerned expression, and to his surprise, you smiled at him.

“I guess that’s what I get for being an alcoholic, huh?”

“I warned you not to drink it.”

“And you’re always right, aren’t you?” you teased, but there was a silent gratitude in your eyes.

At least later, you could remind him that thanks to you, they found enough evidence to arrest the criminal.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2024 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

324 notes · View notes

at4-raxia · 2 months ago

Text

Mark Grayson x ladybug! Reader (part 2)

Part 1 (if you haven't read it) and part 3

Hii, honestly I couldn't wait to write part 2 especially because I just love the variants and writing various shenanigans with the characters. With that said, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Before you read: protective Mark, him and the reader are whipped for each other (more like obsessed to some degree), they are also really dumb, the variants want that cookie, deception, non-consensual touching, suggestive, the reader is not okay (unreliable narrator), angst (because why not?), and lastly but not least, violence and blood.

Synopsis: It was a way to cope, if you could overcome your past with Mark, you would start anew, but as [name] it was impossible. You had missed this sense of normalcy with him, you had missed Mark, and being Ladybug had given you the solution on a silver platter. With a mask on you forgot about all your insecurities, in your suit you forgot about everything that had transpired with him and you acted almost like you did once. It was easy, flawless, until, well, it was not, and the consequences of your actions came crashing down on you.

"Tikki does it look like I can do anything else?" Your frustration was palpable in the air, you didn't want to hear the scolding.

"[name] please" she pleaded softly while flying in front of the woman who had her arms tightly crossed and her face tense. "I'm only saying that you can't keep doing whatever it is you think you're doing, it's not healthy".

"Then what other option do I have Tikki? As a normal human I was not enough, now as a superhero I can't face him without my mask." Your eyes were staring at the ground, your jaw clenched in anger and you closed your eyes for a second from feeling the tears.

"Mark... I don't understand him. How could he approach me as if nothing ever happened? As if he didn't sever ties with me, as if I didn't go no contact from everyone for almost two years." Your hands were swiftly wiping the tears away. Tikki for a second went still, shocked by your outburst, and then went to hug your cheek, not caring in the slightest if the tears wet her tiny form.

"I just—I don't understand. I can't do it, I can't go back to how things were without addressing everything. But even if I did, we wouldn't go back to how things were. I can't even face him, I can barely speak to him, or give him what he needs apparently, and now, I can't even let him go." Your deep sigh reverberated through your chest, a slight tremor ran through your spine and you felt more at peace after having let some of the build up tension out of your body.

"I'm so tired of not being enough Tikki... If I had been enough do you think he would have at least apologised?" The words were brimmed with insecurity which made the kwami of creation gasp in horror at how little you thought of yourself.

(Paris had destroyed you and those two years were a buried secret that you and the city shared. You were a murderer in cold blood, you had done it for the city, you had gotten rid of the black cat that mindlessly annihilated without remorse. That day of destruction and death, that dark day for the supposed "city of love", was the only day the Parisians had praised you. "Their saviour" they called you, "their hero", "the luck of Paris". You remember puking your guts out, your knees giving up in your tiny claustrophobic bathroom. You had enjoyed killing the cat, you had loved the feeling of creating strategy after strategy to demolish every little ounce of his hope and strength, your smile becoming more twisted each time you saw him crumble. Tikki didn't say a word to you about the ordeal, not to comfort nor punish you verbally, but while you had given a young man eternal rest in a brutal way, you had done it for the greater good. That fact alone was enough for Tikki to know that while wrong, you had done the necessary thing that many would have hesitated to do.)

"Can you believe that I really thought that I would have a chance as a superhero?" Your laugh is a ugly, almost hysterical as you wither in the corner of your room.

"[name] that's not true, I really think you should talk to Mark about this—"

"And then what?"

"Haven't you stopped to think for a second? Don't you maybe think that Mark did that years ago not because you were not good enough but to protect you?" Tikki then gave a napkin for [name] to blow her red nose in.

"What do you mean? Then why only me?" You say focusing your puffy eyes on the tiny red and black creature.

"Is it really so out of the question to think that maybe you were so special that he couldn't have risked you getting hurt because of him? Are you really going to just disregard the fact that he stuck with you through thick and thin? And for what? Because you overthink too much".

"it's not overthinking if it's the truth, he didn't even message me or call me to know if I was okay after I went to France". There were so many different little things you were focusing on, your mind was imploding from the possibilities, from the guilt of having jumped too fast to conclusions.

"I don't know about that for sure and I'm not justifying his actions, but we need to see his perspective. We don't know why he did that, yet you can ask him that". How could Tikki even propose this when you couldn't even look him in the eyes?

"You can't hide forever behind this excuse, your avoidant behaviour is just your way of justifying your fear of being faced with the reality of things again. I know you're afraid, but you can't run forever or hide behind your mask forever. Even if the worst case scenario happens and we discover an even uglier truth than what we imagined, at least you will have the truth in your hands. You will be able to finally get closure, to have a fresh start". After recovering from the shock of Tikki's wake up call, you slowly nodded while some tears made your way down your face. An ugly smile, the one you make when you cry, made its way up to your face as you hugged your friend closely and closed your eyes.

Eve knew that Mark had a childhood friend, she knew that he cherished her deeply from how fondly he spoke about her when they had been together. She wasn't jealous, Eve recognised her worth and wouldn't want to exchange it with anyone else's, yet it kind of hurt to see that Mark didn't talk about her with the same fondness. For Eve you were at some unreachable peak, and in the moment she had realized it, she understood how Alexander the Great's generals must have felt knowing that he was unsurpassable.

Mark wasn't the only man in the world, but for some time he had been her world. He had been a good boyfriend, caring, attentive, sweet and so on. They had their ups and downs, like any other couple, but overall the experience had been unforgettable.

(A buried thought screams that in another universe where you don't exist, maybe there's a possibility that she's still with Mark. Even if she does think about it sometimes, she doesn't dwell on it.)

Mark loved her, she wouldn't doubt it. Yet, it wasn't enough when she wasn't the girl he loved the most.

(To their friends they say they separated on a mutual accord, but nobody knows how it had happened. One day everything was fine, while the next they were on separate ways. She couldn't stay with Mark when you were on his thoughts 24/7, but after seeing you in person she couldn't really blame the guy .)

Meeting you had been an humbling experience.

You weren't the most attractive person she had seen, but there was something about you that made you look like a flower in bloom. The kind that you appreciate early in spring after a harsh winter, the kind you don't pick off the ground just to see it alive the next day.

Alive.

That was the word.

You felt alive, not just in the literal sense. More in the fact that every little gesture, every smile, every giggle livened up the room. For Eve this kind of beauty is not something you can achieve, it's something that you have because you're a good soul and your body shows it.

You're no saint, but for a moment—the goodness in you, the pain you carry both as a civilian and a hero, your smiles—all of this makes Eve believe in something, in something good, that almost resembles hope for this world. (She hadn't meant to find out who you were, it was accidental. One moment she was following you to talk to you, the next you were de-transforming, completely clueless of her presence.)

"So you know Invincible's name?" Atom Eve, or Eve, had sat down next to you after asking you this question. The both of you were on the roof of a building, legs dangling meters from the ground as you munch on your sandwich.

"I heard it from you", it was the truth, but you also knew who was under the yellow mask, so partially the truth?

"Are you sure?" You were pretty sure.

"Yes, I was standing not too far away, I mean I'm not hard of hearing" you joke, but something tells you that Eve's question is not really about Mark's name.

"Look, I'm gonna be forward with you" she turned around to face you completely as you took another bite of your sandwich, for a moment she thought about just asking where you had bought it, but then she revealed something she knew about you.

"I know your identity", the words leave you comically frozen, but there's nothing to laugh about really.

Silence, complete utter silence. You had stopped chewing, the air had grown still and there was no sound whatsoever. You slowly turned to face her, with cheeks full of food and eyes wide.

"Did you tell Mark?" That was what you were worried about?

"So he doesn't know? I guessed this was the reason why he acted so differently towards 'Ladybug'. But no, it's not my place to do that, but I think I should also ask you that question." She was calm as she generated in her hands a sandwich, probably hungry too after seeing you eat with so much joy. You had found out her identity just by using your brain, after all there was no way that Samantha Eve Wilkins—the same girl who looked and sounded like Atom Eve, the girl who befriended Mark after he got his powers—was not the superhero in pink.

"To whom would I reveal your identity? I mean, as far as you're concerned my kwami knows about you", you opened your bottle of water and washed down the lingering taste of meat, veggies and home made bread.

"Kwami?"

You don't really know how much time you had spent with Eve, talking about your powers, about college, work and so on, but you were glad you had the opportunity. One conversation led to another and suddenly you were vulnerable:

"I mean, I might be smart but that's it. There's nothing really special about 'Ladybug'", the both of you were still on that roof fully suited up, your feet swinging mindlessly.

"You're kidding right? You defeated a villain with a hairpin and you can repair any damage. Your powers are similar to mine, but you have the creativity that I lack. My powers are almost limitless, but I just act in survival mod all the time".

"Creativity won't save me in the long run, against viltrumites I'm useless, while you can hold your ground. I'm not fast enough, strong enough to compete. I'm not weak but it's not enough, you know?".

For a moment Eve was silent, thinking her next words carefully.

"Well, you don't need to be that strong. You're not facing threats alone, you can rely on others." Eve was not a person of words, she was not as impulsive as Mark, and was not insensitive, but she wasn't used to comforting others.

"You need to embrace your confidence, and honestly—it's not really about this—but you need to tell Mark. That man is going crazy over you". With that you choked on saliva and got up.

"Eve! Don't lie about this!" You exclaimed with a high pitch. You were already delusional enough to hope that maybe you could fuck around with Mark without him knowing who you were in the long run, she didn't need to feed your delusions by saying that Mark was crazy for you, it was unfair.

"Why would I lie?" She laughed hard as she also got up, she couldn't really believe how ridiculous the situation was, how stupid the both of you were.

"You need to grow some balls [name], I mean it". You pushed her lightly as she laughed before saying goodbye and flying away.

"Why do you need to grow some balls?"

"JESUS MARK" you're startled as you jump a little, your eyes wide as you turn around to find Invincible standing in all his spandex glory.

"It's 'Invincible' to you Ladybug" He says before crossing his arms and looking at the city.

"yeah, yeah 'Invinciboy', tell that to the news, not me", your smirk is the one of a cat as you tip toe on the edge of the roof. You might not see his eyes, but you know Mark, you know every kind of expression he makes.

And if that isn't one of irritation than you never knew him.

"Don't call me that".

"You have a lot of demands today, first you eavesdrop on a private conversation and then you pretend I call you 'Invincible'? You let everyone else call you Mark when no civilians are around". You express your opinion with nonchalance, with a teasing smile as you take a good look at him, at your Mark in spandex (or in polymer fiber or whatever the material is—).

"I wasn't eavesdropping and you're not like others for the record" , for a moment you think he will add a "because you're special, so you can call me however you want", but you know he won't, so you start to question if he at least considers you a friend.

"Aren't we at least friends?"

"Why would we be friends?" There's no evil, no malice, nothing. It's just a mere observation after all.

Your playful expression vanishes for a second, your gaze falls on his eyes once again as you try to understand if the words are genuine or just a way to rouse you.

"Why would we not be friends? We fight together, joke around, talk, spend time—"

"No. We don't do that. At least I don't, you do all the joking, the talking, the laughing. All you do is stick to me like some octopus". You're not even close to him and he can feel the lingering sensation of your gloved hands against him. He calls you an octopus but then he just clings on you like a leech in your civilian form? How hypocritical can he be?

"You should be glad that at least one girl is giving you some sort of attention". You might be hurt, but you recover fast. There's no right or wrong right now, even if it's mostly your fault. You wish you had the confidence to solve this mess, but instead you fuel whatever this is under this confident façade you have created for yourself.

"That's a lot coming from you, you look like a lost puppy every time I even look at you". A hard jab, one that makes you more vicious. One that makes you laugh internally, since that's the face he makes whenever you're too busy to give him some semblance of attention.

"I don't get why you're so pressed about it. The fans love us, the GDA loves us as a duo. You're the only one so against it". You don't understand why things always need to be so complicated with him.

"Um, hello??" He says mockingly with sass. "Maybe it's because I don't like you?"

You laugh a little, because obviously he doesn't like you. He didn't like you before you became a superhero, it was foolish to think that maybe he would change his mind now, fuck Eve for saying otherwise and getting your hopes up.

"Oh really? Are we in fifth grade? Let's hear it then, who does the little baby like?" You don't bother to cover up the mix of emotions you're feeling right now as you mock him with your tone, you might have cried on the spot if it wasn't for the anger that kept you going, which was directed at him and yourself. Out of every plan, out of every crazy stunt you have pulled, trying to start anew with your secret identity has to be the one to go wrong? (And all for what? Because you don't have the balls to face Mark? Pathetic.)

His skin reddens, only slightly, as he looks away. Now he even dares to become shy? Fuck wrapping your hands around him, the yo-yo in your hands looks too good to not be used right now.

"It's not your business, but this" he makes a gesture with his hands to indicate whatever is going on with you and him, "needs to stop". Especially when he can't even make a move on [name] properly.

"Oh yeah, gee I wonder who it is with your busy social life", your tone is acidic as you mock him, "Mmm, let's list all the girls you know and find out, is that okay for you 'invinciboy'?" The man grits his teeth and is about to go away, tired from your bullshit when he halts as he hears you listing names and things you shouldn't really know about his life.

"Is it Eve? Mm, from your face I guess no. But it would have been a good guess, many exes who remain friends usually go back together", your face is gleeful, but in a mocking way, focused on his expression as you try to solve him, like one of your puzzles.

"Oh, oh! Is it Amber? She was your first after all."

"What—"

"Mm, I don't think it's anyone from the team either, is there a possibility you might be gay then? Do you like William perhaps, Gayson? I don't have other female options available and the best friends to lovers troupe is really common—" Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, you're no longer touching the ground and Mark is holding you up by your suit.

"How do you know all of this?" His voice is deep as his glare cuts your skin like butter, there's no sympathy in his tone, the words are the ones of a man who doesn't mess around with the people he cares about. It's the first time you've seen this side of him directed at you.

"Has your tiny little pebble brain thought that maybe, just maybe, I'm someone you know?" You seethe as you face the consequences of your actions, you know that Mark could rip you to shreds right now since he has the upper hand, but you don't care, because he is not a monster like you, so you know he won't snap your neck for running your tongue.

"Then tell me who you are, if you're so sure you actually know me" Was he insinuating that you, a hero, were a stalker? You knew he had at least somewhat the right to believe it, due to the information, but you weren't that bad to make such an assumption. (You were already this horrible in his eyes, and he didn't even know your worst side yet.)

"Why don't you answer my question first?" His face is still contorted in rage, yet he hasn't abandoned all common sense like you. He ponders for a second if he's making the right choice, the right deal.

"If you dare to hurt them I swear—"

"Woah, woah! Pretty boy, I would never. You're not that pretty". It's not the right moment and your joke doesn't land, yet after this illuminating discussion you realize that none of them really did, because Mark doesn't like you and he doesn't even trust you as a coworker.

"After I tell you who it is, you will reveal your identity to me". You freeze slightly, your pupils shrink at the possibilities of a disastrous aftermath. Your curiosity is too much though, you really need to know who this person is.

"Yes, yes, okay", you say, but not before rolling your eyes.

He looks at you for a second more, to see if you're honest under all this fake bravado, before sighing and letting you free from his hold.

"Do you know the bakery down the road?"

It's almost a mutter but you hear it anyway so you don't bother to mock him with a derisory "what did you say?", you're getting tired of this, yet not tired enough to just give up. This is the moment when you can finally find peace and accept that maybe Mark wasn't meant for you. (Deep down it's useless thinking this way, since you will never get over him.)

"I buy often from there", your words are almost phrased like a question. Maybe it's because you work there and there are only two people and an old lady running the place.

"It's one of the girls working, her name is—"

"Anna?"

"[name]".

The name repeats in your head like a loop as you become a statue, your smile fades as you come to the realisation that it was always you at the end of the day. Not Amber, not Eve, not Ladybug, just you.

[name].

You've tried so hard to fix things, to have a second chance. Now you're face to face with the fact that you had never needed one, that all your overthinking, all your crying about him, avoiding him, all your fears and insecurities could have been avoided if you had had the courage to talk to him.

You're not happy, you're not relieved.

You have ruined everything.

He loves you, of course, he has just said it. But he loves [name], his childhood friend, the girl who loves baking, the [name] he remembers. He doesn't love Ladybug, the superhero version of you, the one whose trauma changed her in a confused mess. His distrust and dislike is palpable, you wouldn't doubt after your epiphany that he might be disgusted too if he knew about the blood you have shed in Paris.

You're breathing hard, you know that he will hate you if he discovers your identity. Not just Ladybug, but you. (But who are you really? Are you [name]? The childhood friend that stuck to him like glue. Are you Ladybug? Are you something else you don't know of?)

You think you're crying as you walk back towards the edge of the roof, your only escape route, since running away is the only thing you're good at. (It almost reminds you of that time when Nolan comforted you, it was also the last time you had seen him and Mark doesn't tell you what happened when he comes to the bakery. He doesn't even talk about his family, about his little purple brother you saw on the streets when you were patrolling).

"Hey, are you okay?" He is tentative in his steps as he tries to approach you, he had expected some sort of reaction from you, but not this.

"I need to go", it doesn't sound right because of the tears, from the snot in your nose that's keeping you from saying the words right, together with the hiccuping.

He finds it hard to let you go after you promised to reveal your identity, yet it's even harder when you cry the same way his girl does.

He almost reaches to hug you but you're already far away, he can see your silhouette swinging from building to building. He could fly and catch you, but he doesn't find it in him to be harsh on you again after seeing your crying face.

("Aren't you glad [name]? He loves you!" Tikki is buzzing around happily as you try to collect yourself, as if you're the broken puzzle that needs solving.

"You don't get it, do you? He doesn't love me, he doesn't know who I am anymore, he loves the person he remembers, the one who he thinks I am. Not this mess. I thought that if he fell in love with Ladybug, it would have been easier for him to accept the person I'm now". Your hands are shaking as you look at them, as if by looking at them you could remember the sensation of the warm blood coating them.

"Let's think in a positive way, at least you know the truth..!" Tikki stops in her tracks as she sees your deranged expression.

"You and your damned truth. I don't need to know the truth!" You glare at the kwami with the build up hatred you have for yourself and this hero life that was forced upon you.

"I don't give a shit about the truth!" Your voice gets higher with every point you make, Tikki can't help but flinch at you.

"I just want Mark" you plead, almost like a prayer and not a demand. Tikki can't help but be angry at you, at the fact that you won't listen, you just drown in your sorrows even when there's a life-saver around your body.)

You don't talk to anyone, not even to Tikki, you don't go to work and you ask your parents to tell others that you are sick. They are worried about you, sometimes they come inside your room and sit on the bed, they tell you that they are there if you need them. You don't answer, you never do, and you feel like a bad daughter, you don't deserve this coddling when it's your fault, but you know that it's not like you can accept their help, since it's not even a possibility in their minds that you might be a superhero.

Your friends and coworkers are worried, Mark especially. You feel guilty about causing all this distress, but it's not enough to stop you from looking at flights for Paris. Would everything be better if you just gave back the miraculous? Tikki might not outright say it but you can see the way she looks at you. The way she judges you, scrutinizes you. You know she would gladly go back to Marinette if given the opportunity.

You never book the flight, you just look and think about it under the warm blankets as the bright light from the laptop makes your eyes red. Tikki can see what you're doing, yet she doesn't stop you. Maybe it's some sick test to see if you have the guts to actually leave behind one of the identities you have created, or maybe it's not, and she genuinely wishes you would press it and get this over with.

You never make up your mind, you just rot in indecision, like you always do.

Like you do with your life, with Mark and with everything else.

You don't know what is going on with the outside world, the GDA has contacted you multiple times but it's better they get used to your absence since you're reluctant to go back to the team. You're a coward, they might need you for something important, and your stomach churns at another responsibility you are avoiding.

"[name]?" Tikki after weeks of giving you the silent treatment, has finally decided to grace you with her presence. You wonder if she feels remorse for having blindly accepted Marinette's choice. You look at her, she's clearly worried and she's trying to find the right words to not activate the bomb in the room.

You don't bother to wait for her and just go to the bathroom. The one that stares at you in the mirror is not your reflection, or at least you hope that it's not the reflection of who you truly are. (A shiver runs through your spine, you knew that the black cat had gone crazy. You wonder if maybe he had been just misunderstood, if he had been just like you. Instead of trying to find a better solution to help him, you gave him a painful death.)

Suddenly as you wash your face you feel something trying to keep your hair from getting wet. You see the little creature that has been by your side until now holding your hair up, she's looking at you with love and sadness, not hate.

And you feel guilty, because how could you be harsh to her when she's always trying to fix your messes?

You repeat "sorry" all over as she dries your face with a towel, she doesn't say anything, she doesn't need to. She always knew that you were never going anywhere, but she wanted you to know that she was also not going anywhere.

While Marinette had been great, every miraculous holder had been a unique experience and you weren't the exception.

You didn't see it yet, you didn't see yourself the way Tikki, Eve, Mark and everyone else did, but maybe one day you would and she wasn't about to leave your side before that moment.

Because she loved you, not the girl who liked to bake, not the hero, not whatever distorted version you had in mind of yourself.

Just you.

"Do you feel better?" Tikki's voice is calm, gentle as she puts the towel aside.

"I think I do—I do", your words feel like a promise. A promise to be better than yesterday, for the people you love, for those who need you, for yourself, even if you don't know who she is yet.

"Have you read any messages yet?" Tikki says with her tiny cheeks full of chocolate chip cookies that had just come out of the oven.

"No, I don't think I will for now."

"[name]..." You glance at the little creature who's giving you an accusatory glare with no real heat behind it. You just smile and cut up the vegetables, the onions are merciless to your already tired eyes as you're hit by their pungent defence, but your knife is far more cruel as you dice them without remorse to prepare your five star meal (fried rice).

"I mean, I know I should let them know if I'm alright, but I just want to enjoy my peace a little more", you take out the left over rice and put it on the counter, the vegetables are sizzling and the aromas that cloud the kitchen make you sigh.

You're fine, not great yet, but for now being contempt in just cooking for yourself and your little friend a meal is enough.

Cooking is a big part of your life, one of your defining abilities. Your skills make people wonder how you became this good at such a young age.

You don't say to them that you cook when you're stressed, you cook when you're sad, happy, and even when you're angry.

You've lost some of the creativity over the years, pursuing your passion at an academic level has replaced fantasy with skill and technique. You have always known that academic discipline kills passion, and it did kind of murder the love you had for cooking.

But what else could you do if not that? It was either following your childhood dreams or working in an office.

You don't know where Tikki is as you lose yourself in your train of thoughts, completely focused on the task at hand. You stir, mix and add whatever is missing almost on autopilot and you sway your hips to the rhythm of the music that is playing on your phone.

In your little safe haven you don't know what's going on outside. You don't know about the dangers your coworkers are facing—the dangers Mark is facing—because the one time you seclude yourself from the rest of the world, it's also the one time it's about to be destroyed by alternative versions of your childhood friend.

You don't even think about what could be happening outside until you feel strong arms around your waist.

( "why do you always leave the window open?"

It was a bad habit of yours to forget to close the kitchen window, but your neighbourhood had always been safe. "I mean, it's not like we're in a dangerous area and the kitchen sometimes needs some air", you don't look at him in the eyes as you answer, you don't need to, because the bangs on the table and the almost moan that comes out of his mouth are enough to tell you that he is enjoying the food.

"Is it good?" You laugh proudly as you throw a glance in his direction.

"Not just good, it's better than my mom's, I'm not kidding", that's praise right there, better than his mom even? That's something to blush for.

"I'm not that good, Debbie is on another level", you jump a little as you feel him peer over your shoulder to look at what else you're making.

"Next time I go to your house I'll tell her you said this", there's a teasing glint in your eyes as you turn your head around to face him.

"It's not like she would disagree, she literally loves you more than me" he scoffs even if his lovingly warm eyes betray how he truly feels.)

You gasp at the sudden contact and instinctually elbow the person that's holding you so close against him to the point where there's no space between the both of you, no air that keeps away the heat radiating from whoever is behind you. As the hit lands you're not met with an abdomen, but with a wall that doesn't even budge.

"hey, it's me baby".

The voice is raspy, almost breathless as Mark whispers in your ear. You suppress a shiver as you try to create some space between your face and his, and while doing so that's when you take a good look at him.

"What the—what's with the mohawk? And Mark can you let me go please—" you plead before yelping from your stomach fat getting squeezed as the man behind you just sighs and just nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, his short hair tickling you in the process.

"you don't like it?" You're speechless at Mark's anomalous behaviour and looks, but it's been quite a while since you got out. It's wrong to be so pleased about the situation, about the domesticity of it. You have dreamed of Mark coming home and hugging you like this while you cook your favourite meals. Now though it just feels wrong, especially after last time. You could not in good conscience take advantage of the situation without addressing the many problems at hand.

"No, it looks good" the rice is done, but you're not focused on that as you hear a deep chuckle from Mark, who just smirks and leaves feather like kisses on your bare neck. You squirm as his weight and arms are blocking you from escaping his gentle assault at your neck. A whine builds up in your throat, frustrated at your helplessness.

You know the bastard is enjoying this, you can feel his smile as he almost bends you on the stove.

"Just—hey what are you doing?" You don't know what stars have aligned to put you in this position, but you need to put a stop to this. The escalation of the situation is worrisome as teeth graze your skin, as you feel his groin against your ass.

"Can't a man just appreciate his girl?" Not when you're not his girl.

"Don't call me that" you manage to say, as your flushed face betrays you.

You don't realise that he is confused by your statement, since you can't turn around to face him, but you do feel his muscles tense. What gives you the chance to escape is the smoke coming out of the pan, the rice is not inedible but it's just slightly charred by the looks of it.

"The rice!" Your suddenly raised voice and the smoke that hit his senses made him slightly loosen his vice grip around your warm waist. It only took one second for him to recollect himself, but it had been enough for you to just step aside and not feel his hot breath on your neck.

Having the possibility to turn around you can finally have a good look at him.

Is it bad if you say he looks wrong?

You were gone for two years and there's barely any change, you're gone for a couple of weeks and this man does a whole 360?

And the eyebags, his eyes...

They are so dark and focused, almost predatory as he looks at you up and down.

"I really missed you babe" he sighs, eyes half lidded, like a full lion after a meal and he hitches closer, because unlike the feline he could be satiated.

"Mark, you're acting weird today, are you alright?"

"I've never been better", his gaze is loving as he settles for grabbing your face with his hand—squishing your cheeks in the process—and giving you a peck on the lips, as if this was a daily occurrence. It's heart warming, soft, and gentle. It's not a passionate kiss, but it's enough to make you freeze. After all it's just the start of something more as his hand settles on your hip.

"Mark—no, stop. We can't." There's a frown on your face as he lets you push his face aside with shaking hands. His face is confused and you don't understand why, what did he expect?

"Why not? Come on [name], don't tease me.." he's almost desperate as he longs for your touch once more, even the hands that keep pushing him away are somewhat palliative as he can once again feel your soft skin against him once more.

"Because it's wrong, we're not together and there's a lot you don't know about me that I haven't told you about. You would hate me if I told you." He chuckles, no, no, he laughs whole heartedly, wiping some of the tears that are about to fall from your eyes. So this lame ass version of himself is not together with you? And more importantly, you're hiding something from him?

"Babe, babe", you're tormenting him with your flushed face, with your slightly red eyes.

"I could never hate you"

You stare at him as if he just hit you with a bucket of cold water.

On the other side of the room your phone vibrates on the table from the quantity of messages you're receiving.

Mark: are you okay?

Mark: hey, answer me? Are you home?

Mark: [name], it's important

Tikki looks at the messages with a horrified face, so she flies in a zone of the room where you can see her, even with the doppelganger in your way.

When you lock eyes she rapidly shakes her head while indicating the men in front of you and your phone.

Mark is calling

You don't hide the expression you make, it's priceless how your eyes shrink and your mouth falls agape. You don't know if he has realised that you know now, you don't know what his intentions are with you, but he had seemed so sincere, there was no way he would hurt you? What version of Mark could be so sadistic to toy with you before hurting you?

"Love, are you okay?" His tone has shifted, the words are another way of saying: "Oh, so you know now? No more faking?"

Because he knows you're not okay, and you're too smart to be fooled twice.

As you move backwards he moves forward, amused by this little waltz he is entertaining you with.

You move right using the table as a support, and he follows you.

It's fun, it's hilarious even. You were so pliable in his hands, like putty, whining about the contact even if your body craved more, and now you were making this laughable effort at evading him. You were lucky he loved you. He wonders where your Mark went wrong when you're as eager to hold him as he is.

Your back hits the open window behind you, the air is cold on your face as you turn around and look at how high up you are.

"There's nowhere to run now babe" he laughs amused as he hovers closer and closer, barely containing his desire to just finish what he started back at the stove.

"You really think so?" A smirk appears, eyes shining in a way he has never seen before, and then you do the most unexpected thing.

You jump out the window, he's not fast enough to grab you since you took him by surprise.

His heart leaps out of his throat, he almost doesn't want to see if you're splattered on the floor, your body just a stain on the floor as your organs are splattered here and there on the sideway.

As he flies outside instead of something gruesome, he's met with your suited up form bouncing around buildings as you try to create some distance between the both of you. Or maybe you're creating some other scheme to fool him once again.

When your gaze meets his, time freezes and you playfully stick his tongue out to him, to mock him, laugh at his foolish and cocky behaviour.

He laughs as one hand just covers his face.

Of course you had powers in this world, of course this was your secret.

Oh, this Mark was a real loser.

Hellooo, I hope you enjoyed part two! Honestly out of every variant, Mohawk Mark is my favourite. Originally I had just planned to finish this here, but then I just got carried away with the last part, lol.

Part 3

119 notes · View notes