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chocoholicannanymous · 3 years

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Concepts in Action (Glee)

Follow-up to Concepts of Insanity, spawned by a talk with @jwmelmoth

Slighty different mood than that one, but same base principle.

Returning to the loft after skating should be a relief after the awkwardness of doing such a loaded activity with his ex. Except it doesn't feel that good, and he's got some uncomfortable suspicions regarding Blaine's backpack.

“So, dad. You brought Blaine. Exactly when's his ticket back?”

“Day after tomorrow, same as mine.”

“Right. And where is he staying?”

“Well...” His dad's facial expression answers that question in a way that makes Kurt's heart sink.

Fan.Tast.Ic.

“So when you said I could return my present if I wanted to, exactly how was that supposed to work? It isn't, is it? I'm stuck with him whether I want to or not.”

“Kurt!”

His dad's voice is full of surprise and a bit of censor, but Kurt isn't going to let that influence him. His dad's crossed a line, and Kurt's not going to pretend otherwise.

“Remember the first Christmas after mom passed away? How you sat me down and apologized for my presents, before I'd even opened them, because you just weren't good at buying gifts? And remember how I told you that anything you'd gotten me would be perfect, because it was from you and I loved you? Yes?

“Okay. I still love you, but I'm taking the rest of that back. You coming here to tell me you have cancer was bad enough. Finding out you consider my ex an acceptable 'gift' for Christmas goes from bad to really shitty, and I don't know what you were thinking. Especially seeing as apparently you felt it was okay to tell him about your cancer before telling me.”

“I didn't want you to be alone.”

Kurt just stares, unable to process.

“I have cancer, and I knew you'd have a hard time to deal. I brought Blaine because I figured you'd need the support, the comfort.”

“And you brought my ex for that?”

Then again, support wasn't Blaine's strongest suit even when we were together, was it?

“Hey, you're the one who told me he wasn't just your boyfriend, he was your best friend too.”

“Yes, but that was before” he cheated on me “we broke up.”

His dad still doesn't seem to get it and Kurt can't take it.

“You know what, I need some air. I'm going to take a walk. You stay here, make sure Blaine stays out of my bedroom.”

Kurt starts out with going around the block, but he's still upset after and takes another loop, this time longer. It takes half an hour for him to feel ready to go back inside and deal.

Sitting on the couch with his dad and Blaine as they watch baseball is annoying as hell. Any other time, he'd take the closeness and read Vogue, especially now that his dad has admitted to knowing about it. But with Blaine actually watching and interacting with his dad about the game Kurt feels uncomfortable not doing the same. So he tries. Once he gives up and reaches for his magazine he heard his dad and Blaine joke about having bet about how long he'd hold out.

And then the next hit comes.

“So, Kurt, I know that this might be a bit weird for you, and you can totally say no if you want to,” sure, just like I could return the 'gift' of your presence, “ but I'm applying to NYADA for next year.”

Kurt sighs silently. Of course he is. The thing is, he can see it, the way Blaine probably assumes it'll play out. Blaine moving to New York, going to NYADA, buddying up to Rachel just like in high school... Kurt being expected to just take it, regardless of if he had been accepted or not. Any contacts Kurt might have gotten supposed to be at Blaine's beck and call, Blaine talking his way into Kurt's classes trying to replace him, like he had in Glee and with Cheerios... Kurt bending over backwards to make Blaine happy, just like in high school.

Because there would never be a chance of him being allowed to continue to say no to Blaine with them at the same school.

Thank god that's not going to happen.

And really, what was Blaine trying to do here? Pretending that Kurt's opinion mattered? The time for that would have been months ago, before applying.

“Oh really? You know what, I think NYADA might be perfect for you.” Not in terms of actual schooling, maybe, as Kurt's had the blinds torn off regarding Blaine's talent, but for the rest... He imagines Carmen Tibideaux subjecting Blaine to some of her special treatment. The definition of Karma, surely.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. From everything I've heard you'd get along really well with the dean, and well, Rachel seems to thrive. Good luck.”

With no encouragement to keep talking about NYADA Blaine wanders off to grab something to drink and Kurt refocuses on his dad, trying to squeeze out as much of this visit as possible.

“Hey Kurt? What does NUY want with you?”

Kurt turns his head so fast it feels like he's in danger of whiplash.

“Are you going through my mail? Stop it!”

The words come out hard and he can see both his dad and Blaine react. He doesn't care though.

“You know, you going through my personal things wasn't cute when we dated either. Back then I just cared more about keeping the peace than about keeping my privacy. Since that's not a problem anymore, let me just be clear. I might be allowing you to stay here, but that's not an invitation in any way. Not to snooping, not to feeling at home, and not to getting back together.

“This is my home, and you are – putting it kindly – a guest. Behave with the decency I know your mom expects of you. If you can't do that then leave.”

He wishes Blaine would, but knows it's not likely.

“Buddy...”

“Kurt! You can't mean that you'd throw me out. Where would I go?”

Blaine looks like Kurt has done the verbal equivalent of throwing a bucket of ice water in his face. It has no effect on Kurt's resolve though.

“I neither know nor care. You either respect my home or you don't stay in it. This is New York. There are thousands of hotels and hostels.”

His dad just stares at him, as if he doesn't know who Kurt is anymore, and it hurts. Out of all the people liking Blaine better than him Kurt had never figured his dad would be one. And yet here he was, feeling the same way as he'd once felt with Finn.

“Buddy, you're being a bit harsh here, don't you think? Yes, I'll admit that maybe bringing Blaine without warning you was a little...impulsive, but why are you so angry? And don't be so hardnosed about getting back together, for your own sake.

“Like I said earlier, love's important. Holding on to love is important. I don't want you to throw away what you and Blaine have, not when you never know what will happen, or how long you'll have that opportunity. It's a cruel world, Kurt, but having someone to share with makes it better.”

Kurt takes a deep breath and tries, really really tries to keep his bitterness in. He's not doing that great a job.

“Holding on to love is important, sure. But there's such a thing as holding on too long and too hard. Blaine and I broke up for good reasons, and I wish you'd respect that.”

It's like his dad isn't even hearing him though.

“You know, your mom and I found it hard being apart too.”

Kurt did know. As a kid he'd loved hearing about his mom's semester in France, and he'd been told enough to know that it'd been tough. He'd read some of their letters to each other though, and he doubts either of them dealt the way Blaine did.

“So? Yes, being apart is hard. But that isn't an excuse for everything. I didn't want to get you involved in all of this, but since that's obviously not going to be an option anymore, fine. Blaine cheated. He felt I didn't pay enough attention to him, you know, between finding a job and a place to stay, and making enough money to pay the bills, and generally trying to make myself a life here after he practically pushed me to go here.

“And so he went and found someone else to give him that attention.”

He practically spits out the last sentence. It feels good to finally allow himself to say it, but the look on his dad's face doesn't feel as good.

If he was less angry maybe he'd be able to stop himself, worry about his dad's heart. But the anger's been simmering too long for that.

“That's why we broke up, and that's why I find the idea of getting back together objectionable. And you can talk about holding on to love until you're blue in the face, but I'm not the one who needs that lecture.”

He swallows down the lump in his throat, but goes on.

“As for the rest of it, are you seriously suggesting I take back my cheating boyfriend because that's better than being alone? Or because I don't know how long I'll live? Because if you are... What's next, dad? Telling me I should marry him because you and mom didn't get enough time together?

“If any of those things are going through your head you are also welcome to leave. I'll never not welcome you in my home, dad, but I need you to respect me. I need you to not act like you're putting someone else's son above yours.”

That's a warning that hits the target, and it's obvious that Burt Hummel remembers a row of uncomfortable talks about Finn. He deflects by turning on Blaine though.

“You...”

“No, dad. It is over and done with. Leave him be. Just... Just leave it alone. I don't want to take anymore fighting. Please?”

They stare at each other and for a while Kurt wonders if he should have done as he normally does and just backed down. Swallowed down his hurt and anger and frustration, kept quiet about the injustices done to him, and just pretended to be okay. Tried to not upset his dad, and risk his health.

Except he's done that for years, and it's clearly not working. His dad's health has failed again, with the cancer – and no matter how good the prognosis, or the treatments available, a cancer diagnosis is a health failure. Plus his dad is trying to fix him and Blaine, out of some misguided idea that they're going to be the next Burt-and-Lizzie, and he never would have done that if Kurt'd been honest about the cheating instead of blaming distance.

At least Kurt hopes he wouldn't.

“Sometimes, dad, first loves end. They end because of death, or because they're not meant to last, or because of something else. And then you meet someone else, and they make your life amazing. I'm not going to deprive myself of that by holding on to something that's ended. Just like you didn't. You found love again. I will too.

“I just need to be allowed to do so.”

They keep staring at each other, and then his dad nods. Kurt can't help it, he throws himself in his dad's arms, with tears already beginning to fall.

As they hug Kurt hear Blaine muttering in the background about finding a hotel, but he doesn't care. The door to the loft closing feels like it's closing on him and Blaine too, and it's such a relief.

After several minutes they let go. Both need to remove traces of crying, but that's good.

Once they're seated again Kurt searches for something to talk about, but his dad beats him to it.

“So, NYU? Or should I pretend I didn't hear that?”

“No! I have been thinking about things, about school, and I was an idiot for not applying to more schools last year. So, I did some research and then I did something about it. I've applied to half a dozen schools, and I've already been accepted to one for the fall semester. I don't know if there's any school willing to take me for the spring, but if there's not I'll just keep working and try to save up money.”

“And what about NYADA?”

There's no judgment in his dad's voice, and Kurt smiles as he tries to describe the situation diplomatically.

“It's...not looking as good in my research as I thought, so while I did reapply there I'm not sure I want to go there. I really shouldn't have listened to Rachel last year, because as it turns out? NYADA actually isn't the most prestigious school for performing arts, and it's probably not even the best for me. I guess we were both a little starstruck, you know?”

The game is back on, but they ignore it and talk, and it's everything Kurt would have wanted.

O--o---o--O

Months later as classes start up Kurt receives voicemail after voicemail about Blaine starting at NYADA, about how bad it is that Kurt's not been accepted, about them meeting up. Kurt ignores them as he did the calls and walks into vogue.com with a smile.

He doesn't feel the least bad about not getting in. Hell, he didn't even apply for the fall semester.

No, Kurt's happy where he is, with his job at vogue.com, a spot at the New School and a couple of scholarships helping pay the way. Oh, and a new boyfriend, which also contributes to his happiness.

Turns out? Acting in new ways can get you new and rewarding results. All you got to do is try.

#chocoholic fics #kurt fic #kurt hummel #not for the klaint of heart #burt hummel #free kurt

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annab-nana · 3 years

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Privacy Is A Social Construct - Peter Parker

MJ keeps herself busy with Harry, you keep yet another secret from MJ, and literally no one understands nor respects the concept of privacy.

Part 5 of Books Tell Secrets and Lies

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 3.7k+

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<- Part 4: Green: The Color Of Envy

“I’m sorry. Let me make sure I heard that correctly. You had sex with Harry?” you asked in complete shock and disbelief at what you were hearing. I mean you are proud of your best friend, like go MJ, but you never expected it, at least not so soon.

“Yeah,” she breathed out, “I did, and it was great.”

“Did you call me right fucking after? Oh my God, Michelle. Go back to the boy and call me later,” you told her as you pulled the phone away from your ear and almost ended the call, but her shouting in opposition halted your actions.

“No, I just ran up the stairs to get away from my mom so that’s why I’m out of breath. I have a little more decency than that. Chill,” she giggled while you tossed your bookbag to the ground and laid on your bed, sighing when your body hit the mattress.

“You sound stressed. What’s up?” she pondered. Of course, the girl could read you like a book at all times so all you had to do was sigh a little as anyone would do at the end of the day and she knew something was wrong.

“Nothing, I just- I had a talk with Peter and he swung me home.”

“That’s good. It was a good talk, right? He apologized for being a douche and y’all made up I hope?” she asked optimistically as you stared up at the ceiling, watching your fan spin in circles above you.

“Yeah, he did, and we did. We decided that all of us need to become better communicators and that we both don’t want our friend group to split like it did ever again,” you filled her in. “I think we both think it is our own fault, but it’s really on everyone. We just really helped it happen, you know?” You both laughed as MJ nodded her head.

“Yeah, I agree. It just all came to a head and we needed some time apart. This was all for the better I believe. I definitely wouldn’t have had the best sex of my life an hour ago if we didn’t get into argument. I’d probably still be with Peter or upset that he had broken up with me and you wouldn’t have switched seats with Harry and Harry and I wouldn’t have gotten closer, so this had all been highly beneficial for me.” You could practically hear her huge grin through the phone which in turn made you smile as well.

“So, spill. Tell me about it. How was he?” you grinned wider, getting ready to hear all the tea of her supposed incredibly good night.

...

“Hey Ned!” you greeted the boy when you walked up to him the next morning.

“Good morning, y/n!” the brown-eyed tech enthusiast stated, a big smile coating his features.

“What’s got you all happy, Leeds?”

“I don’t know. I just have a good feeling about today and I heard about you and Peter last night. Shouldn’t you be the sunny one this morning?” he inquired before your eyes widened and you looked around. You did not get around to telling MJ about your almost kiss with Peter last night since she seemed so happy about things with Harry. You didn’t want to ruin her mood and unlike your last secret you kept from her, you actually planned on telling her this one. You were planning to tell her later today, maybe after school unless the opportunity presented itself at an earlier time.

“Hey, don’t bring that up around MJ, okay? I haven’t had the chance to tell her yet. She was going on and on about Harry on the phone last night and I did not want to interrupt that with my news, not yet. But I will tell her today so just forget it happened for the day,” you spilled to him as he nodded in agreement.

“Hey guys,” MJ spoke when she approached you both, a lazy smile on her slightly swollen lips—a tell-tale sign that she was definitely just macking on someone, a certain Osborn boy perhaps.

“Where’s Harry?” You grinned while your eyes scanned behind her for the boy who was talking to one of his other friends with a hazy look in his eye. Oh, they definitely just made out. Off to the side of him, you caught a glimpse of the mop of brown curls heading towards your group.

“I’m gonna go talk to Flash. I’ll see you guys later,” you rushed out the words as quickly as you could before you left them to find Flash who was thankfully standing next to your locker, waiting for you to arrive.

“Y/n! Hey, I am really sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean-”

“Flash, it’s fine. I was angrier with Peter anyway and he apologized yesterday, so it’s all good,” you affirmed, twisting the dial of your locker to put in the combination and open it.

“Really?” he questioned, scared that this was too easy. He just got you as a friend and you were really good to him. He did not want to lose you.

“Yeah,” you nodded while speaking as you grabbed your chemistry textbook. “I heard there’s going to be a pop quiz in chem this morning.”

“Y/n, can I talk to you?” Peter asked when he walked up to you and Flash. In his big brown eyes, there was obviously worry and anxiety from what you could see, but today’s mission for you was to avoid him.

“Maybe later, okay?” you urged. Peter, seeing that you were not going to speak to him now, left and to say the least, Flash was confused.

“I thought you said he apologized. What’s with the cold shoulder?”

“I- okay, I have to tell someone. He almost kissed me last night. Well, we both almost kissed each other, but then I realized what I was doing and backed away. I can’t do that to MJ,” you confided in the boy who you only made your friend approximately two days ago, but in those two days, Flash had become a real and trustworthy friend though he was kind of a jerk to Peter.

“MJ? She was making out with Harry out by the front steps earlier. I think it’s safe to say she doesn’t care about Parker anymore, at least not in that way,” Flash reassured you while clasping a comforting hand on your shoulder when you shut your locker and began to walk to chemistry with him.

“I know, but I still feel like I am betraying her, like I’m breaking girl code or some shit. Girls aren’t supposed to date their best friend’s exes. That is just a known rule. I can’t do that to her. I won’t let myself do that. I can’t,” you explained while looking up at Flash. He could see just in your expression how bad this was tearing you up inside.

“Even if it hurts you more? Y/n, as much as I don’t see any way that you could be interested in him, I can see he makes you happy. You know I watch people. I see MJ. She won’t mind. She has eyes for Osborn. Peter has eyes for you and you for him. You are only doing harm to yourself and Peter. You aren’t really saving anyone from what I can see,” he enlightened you with his observations. You didn’t want to admit that he might be right, but you just would not let yourself betray MJ, not again, not after the pain and wreckage you caused last time. You both walked in a comfortable silence to your chemistry class and quizzed each other on the things you had been learning about energy and waves for the upcoming quiz that class period.

During most of the first half of the day, you tried your hardest to stay away from Peter. You just could not face him. What would you say? Would you acknowledge the kiss you nearly shared with him? Would you completely ignore that it could have happened? He couldn’t have possibly thought you would do MJ like that, did he? Did he think that little of you and if he did, why did he like you?

When lunch came around, you would have to face him. Flash left to go eat with some of his other ‘friends’ just so you could talk to Peter and not cause another argument. You walked up to the entrance of the cafeteria and saw all three of your friends sitting there, laughing and having a good time. Harry was there too, and they all just looked so happy. You simply could not bring yourself to walk in and sit there, so you turned on your heel and went to your safe place: the library.

“Where is y/n? I wanted to ask her about the chem quiz. I haven’t seen her since this morning,” Ned inquired before taking a bite of his spaghetti.

“She was supposed to be back eating and hanging out with us,” Peter wondered out loud. He certainly noticed your clear motive to stay away from him, but he understood why. He tried to kiss you while in his defense, you were leaning forward too, but he could see that you thought it was a mistake.

“You did it,” MJ mentioned, blaming Peter for your absence. She knew she hadn’t done anything to provoke you like this and neither did Ned.

“Listen, when we almost kissed, I-” Peter started but due to Ned slapping at his arm, he stopped talking. His confused eyes found Ned’s which were wide while the boy shook his head, telling him to shut up.

“Almost kissed, huh? She didn’t tell me that,” MJ muttered, but Ned was quick to explain for you.

“She was going to tell you, but she said you were really happy last night and she didn’t want to bring you down. She is going to tell you. This isn’t like last time, I promise. She plans to tell you today, but she didn’t want to ruin your mood.” Harry smirked at MJ, knowing exactly why she was so joyful last night, and he could not be prouder of himself.

“Okay, but she has nothing to worry about. I don’t care for Peter like that anymore, no offense dude, but you dropped feelings for me first.”

“Yeah, no worries,” he shrugged, glad she was on the same page as he was.

“I’m texting her,” MJ announced before she pulled out her phone and began to tap at the screen quickly to type a message.

MJ: idc about peter so go for him

MJ: you two would be good together and i have harry so stop hurting your own feelings and get with him

You sighed when you saw the messages. Literally everyone and everything was telling you to go for Peter and all your reasons not to were proving to be invalid. Why were you making it so difficult for yourself? It was simple, right? Just be with Peter. That is all you had to do. So why were you hiding out in the library?

You had stood from the table you always sat at in the back and walked through one aisle to walk towards the exit of the library but couldn’t bring yourself to leave the confines of the bookshelves that surrounded you. You backed up and began to pace down the aisle of books, noticing its familiarity from just a few weeks ago.

What would you do when you went back? Ask Peter out? Kiss him? Just be friends? Be in that weird limbo state of a relationship that he and MJ were in? You all saw how well that worked out so that was not a good option. Your fingers found your bottom lip, nervously pulling at it as you thought over your options. Maybe you could just stay in here for the rest of lunch and hide away from him until later today and then talk to him? But you also had to tell MJ about the almost kiss you shared with Peter. God, why were things so difficult?

“Y/n.” You immediately stopped pacing when you heard his voice and turned to face the doe eyes that stared at you. “You’ve been avoiding me all day and we need to talk about last night.”

“Peter, what do you want me to say? I- I don’t know what to say or do. I am so confused, and I hate it,” you confessed your feelings, seeing as just yesterday you talked to him about being better communicators.

“I want you to tell me what you want. Not what you want with everyone’s feelings and opinions involved. I want to know what y/n y/l/n wants. Just you,” he asked so nicely. The way he put it made you feel at ease, like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Now that was a question you could answer.

“I want my friends back, exactly the way they were. I want Flash to be our friend and that means without stupid petty spats like yesterday. I want MJ to be happy and if that is with Harry, I am all for it. I want you to be safe and happy as well and, damn it Peter, I want to be with you. But it doesn’t feel right to have you and therefore, I don’t know what to do, and quite frankly, I feel like I am losing my mind here,” you spoke in a hushed tone as you were aware of the setting you were in. “What do you want?”

“I want our friends happy. I’m not exactly happy about the Flash situation, but if you see something good in him, then I trust you and I will try my hardest to be a good friend to him despite our differences and our past. And I want you too. I get where you’re coming from and how it feels wrong to be with me considering I was with MJ kind of, but that was never a real relationship, just a mere crush on each side and we tested the waters slightly to see it didn’t work. But she is happy with Harry and she doesn’t care what we do as long as we are both happy,” he preached, a steady hand coming up to comb through the chestnut locks you loved so much.

“But why doesn’t it feel right? Why did I feel like I was doing the wrong thing when we almost kissed last night?”

“Because you thought you were betraying MJ and she has told you, a matter of fact she just told you, that it doesn’t matter to her. I don’t matter to her like that. You are so focused on being good for other people that you hurt yourself in the process,” he expressed, trying his best to get you to understand while you leaned against the bookshelf.

“Should we just be friends? Like we were? Things were a lot less complicated then. I think that’s best for everyone,” you sighed as you rubbed at your eyes.

“Is that what’s best for you? Because if it is, then I’m all for it though I will always wish for more. I know you were hurting before when we were just friends. Would you hurt again?” he questioned and while you thought about it, you nodded.

“Yeah, probably but-”

“What now? I feel like you are fighting this because you don’t want this,” Peter pouted.

“No, Peter. I want this. I just- something in me is so unsure,” you told him honestly. Your head was screaming at you to say no while your heart fought hard for you to say yes. You were having a battle within you and you didn’t know what was right.

“Can I ask you to do something that might help?” he asked sheepishly, a light dusting of pink coating his cheeks.

“What is it?” you inquired, intrigued as to what it was he could offer that could help your dilemma.

“Kiss me. If you really want to be with me, then I believe you will feel it. If you don’t, you will feel that too. I understand if you don’t want to do that but-”

“No P, that sounds good. Uh, we can do that.” His lips twitched upwards though he tried to conceal his grin when you stepped up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, similarly to how you had him last night. He slipped one arm around your waist also like he had the previous night and his other hand slid to cup the side of your face.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked softly when your lips were only inches apart.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you whispered before you both surged forward, crashing your lips onto his. His grip on your waist tightened while he pulled you closer to his body and it took everything in you to not groan loudly into the kiss in the middle of the library. Oh my God, you were kissing Peter Parker in the middle of the library and the weird thing is that it didn’t feel weird. It didn’t feel wrong or out of place. It felt oh so right. You felt like you were meant to be there and meant to feel his lips on yours. It was perfect. He was perfect and why you had been pushing him away for so long was an enigma to you now.

“Umm,” you sighed against his swollen lips when you both pulled away for a breath. Your eyes were still shut as your forehead rested on his and the moment felt so good. You didn’t want it to end.

“Well, how do you feel?” he questioned impatiently. He was dying to know what was going on in your head and he would give anything to know what you were thinking at that moment. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, those brown irises of his flickering between your eyes, and though you tried to contain it, a wild smile grew on your lips.

“I don’t think we should be friends. I think I like you, Peter,” you muttered into the small space between you. His sigh of relief hit your lips and his huge grin was enough to make yours impossibly wider.

“I didn’t want to be friends anyway,” he chuckled before capturing your lips in his again, but this time, he heard the light giggle of one Edward ‘Ned’ Leeds.

“Come out,” he instructed as he held you close to him. Your brows furrowed in confusion but when you saw MJ, Ned, Flash, and Harry come out from the aisle next to yours, you now understanding who he was speaking to. “Is privacy even a thing anymore?”

“It’s a public library, Parker,” Flash reminded him with the biggest smirk on his face while he eyed you and Peter.

“How long have you all been here?” you asked the group while staying as close to Peter as you could. His arm protectively wrapped around you was a feeling you never wanted to let go of.

“I remember the ‘kiss me’ part,” Harry pointed out, another boy who wore a smirk after having caught you two. Peter blushed while looking down at you.

“All I remember was y/n making up so many excuses before finally getting enough sense to kiss the boy,” MJ cracked up as you hid in Peter’s chest.

“You guys make things a whole lot more difficult by being nosy,” Peter stated, his hard glare being sent to each of them.

“Yeah, but now you don’t have to tell us what happened because we already know, but what we really want to know is are you two together?” Ned quizzed excitedly, his childlike eyes dancing from you to Peter and back to you. Peter’s line of sight fell down to you as you nodded up at him.

“I’m into it if you are,” you whispered, trying to stay quiet and have a little bit more privacy in front of your friends.

“I’ve been into it for a while. I was just waiting on you,” he laughed before grinning down at you.

“I’m here,” you told him. He quickly dipped his head down to peck your cheek and then turned to the group of your shared friends.

“Yes, we’re together,” Peter announced, and as much as the group wanted to scream in excitement, this was a library so silent celebrations and weird dances of joy ensued before you. As fun and exciting as it all was, you were still in the middle of a school day and the bell ringing reminded you of that very fact. “Okay, can you guys leave us for at least one moment that we can have to ourselves?”

Though they didn’t want to, they left, and Peter made sure to check the neighboring aisles before he lifted you up in his arms and pressed his lips against yours.

“I am never going to get over the fact that I can kiss you now,” he said happily as he bent down to grab his bag and reached for your hand.

“I can’t believe in that same aisle where we all fell apart, we all came together again too.”

“That’s the same aisle?” Peter asked while he walked you to your English class. The one class he didn’t have with you would be the first class you have right after you guys became a couple.

“That was the aisle MJ and I stood in when we listened to you and Ned talk,” you informed him as you swung your joined hands excitedly back and forth.

“Wow, a lot has happened in that library.”

“And we’re only on week five of senior year so there is much more that can occur in there,” you giggled, the pure joy inside you begging to come out.

“It is a pretty good place to kiss you,” he told you with a wink as you rolled your eyes.

“I hope you know I am more than just lips, Parker,” you teased him when you both made it to your class, but you guys stopped to spend a few more minutes together.

“You are far more than lips to me, y/n,” he whispered as his hand cupped your face, your immediate reaction being to lean into his touch.

“I can’t wait for our story to unfold,” you told him as you were already thinking of what it would be like to be with him now that you actually were with him.

“Oh, this is just the beginning, baby. This is only chapter one and we are in for an adventure.”

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

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

Conundrum (A.B.)

Type: One-shot, challenge fic

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!reader Word Count: 7700 (:

Summary: conundrum - a confusing and difficult problem or question

Andy Barber is a difficult man whom you have yet to understand. He certainly doesn’t make it any easier; and right before Christmas, he manages to surprise you again.

Prompt: You have to look for a gift impromptu

Warnings: a smidge of angst, a drop of awkward humour, mention of death (mild AU - both Laurie and Jacob!), alcohol consumption, feels, explicit language, reader gets called a dumbass... that’s it I hope, lemme know

A/N: This is my submission for the Happy Hoelidays challenge. There’s no hoeing tho, shame on me. Also, if you want some music to go with this, know that I listened to ‘God I Hope This Year Is Better Than the Last’ by SYML an obscene amount of times.

Andy Barber was an enigma.

Reporters liked to think he wasn’t; almost a year ago, they tore down all the walls he had built up to protect the privacy of his family and they shed light into startingly intimate details of his life – and where they couldn’t shed light, they used their imagination and sold it with a claim of having a reliable source. Naturally, it worked; there were always people willing to believe it just so they obtained more of juicy gossip material.

There were wanabe psychologists who would address his trauma and tried to analyse his personality, the consequences he would suffer in the aftermath of the tragedy, who attempted to strip down his soul just to get a few more reads and generally talked about him as if they were best friends, as if they knew him.

It was all a load of bullshit.

The truth, you thought, was that no one knew him. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure if even his wife ever had, truly – but that was you under the influence of the little information you bothered to gather from the influx of crap that the media provided the public with.

What you believed was that the reporters and all the self-proclaimed experts on him knew nada.

Andrew Barber was and always would remain an enigma; to the public, to the little what remained of his family after the death of his wife and son, to his co-workers – the category which included you. If you could even call yourself a co-worker; you were simply a secretary. Granted, one whose previous employer let her peek over their shoulder quite a bit so you learned a thing or two about law, but Andy Barber was the lawyer. The former DA from Boston, who moved over to rule the DA office of Portland, your home.

Even after having been working with him for nine full months, Andy’s thoughts and feelings didn’t get any easier for you to read or predict. When he wanted to let you know he was disappointed, he did. When he was truly angry with someone, well, he wouldn’t let it go unnoticed either.

Other than that, however, you would have had better luck trying to decode the actual enigma-encrypted messages sent during World War II.

Small talk didn’t last longer than three sentences from you each. Work-related affaires were discussed in his office with politeness and with calm, rather dispassionate mannerism. If you caught a hint of a smile when an important case that helped people went his way (or the office’s way really), you considered it a miracle that sent your heart reeling.

He would sometimes smile only for you if you brought him a coffee without him asking first, simply because he looked like he needed one; at those times, he would thank you softly and let slip in your first name instead of referring to you with your last. Those were your favourite moments.

Well, almost.

You found him with a tumbler and an expensive whiskey on occasion when you were leaving the office late; you never commented on it, but there were four times he actually silently invited you to have a glass with him. You refused the first time and accepted the other three.

Those nights, you got a glimpse of the mystery of a man hidden behind surprisingly soft mannerism, one which was in such a sharp contrast to his shark-like demeanour he displayed in front of the judge and the jury. His scars ran deep, his hopes had been shattered, his life in the past year as bitter as the overpriced liquor. Your heart cracked for him to the point of nearly breaking altogether.

And yet, it was beating for him too; behind all that hurt, you couldn’t but notice certain gentleness. Yes, he could be scary, downright terrifying and when his temper got the best of him, the true rage on display, he was a force to be reckoned with. But oh, that gentleness. The kind shattered soul he hid so well every morning, more so on the days right after your little heart-to-hearts. Trying to build a working relationship with him – a friendship of a sort, anything you wanted to call it – was a game of push and pull and more of a string of guesses than an effort that would bore fruit.

You might have already given up on that and instead, with the ferocity you hadn’t known you possessed, you kept punching the crush you had on him; that silly thing that would always call louder and louder after he revealed a piece of him on one of the precious nights, only to shut you out completely the next morning.

Andy Barber had never even remotely showed a romantic interest in you and by God, did you not blame him for not being interested in anyone at all as far you knew. While you considered yourself a fairly capable worker and half-decent person, you were aware you could never measure up to him. Just another reason to push down the feelings you had for him, ones that seemed to bloom with more intensity whenever he raised the corners of his damn lips, when he asked a question about you during those stupid nights as if he cared— nonsense. You had to get rid of those. He didn’t even like you, barely acknowledged you in the end. Or did he? You honestly didn’t know.

Bottom line was that if you couldn’t get close enough, then the reporters knew jack shit, no matter how much reading on him they had done or how many books on psychology, criminology and law and shit they went through. Many people knew Andrew Barber’s name, but no one could hope to know him.

And yet, those assholes still called and asked about him.

It was the fourth one that day; December 23rd, over a year from the accusation of Jacob Barber, and those fucking vultures still called Andy Barber’s office. They weren’t even good newspapers and news sites anymore; obviously, because every rational decent person would have let the poor man rest. But nope. Not them.

“Portland’s DA office, secretary of Mr. Barber speaking. How may I help you?”

“Oh, wonderful! Is there any chance I could talk to Mr. Barber personally?” the chipper of a man asked on the other end of the line and just by not giving his name, he raised suspicion; was it forgetfulness caused by his distress or intention?

Fortunately for him and unfortunately for you, you had to be polite. Hot-shot lawyers and other important people rarely returned the courtesy, but that was the world you lived in.

“There might be, Mr-?”

“Oh, Connor. Peter Connor.”

“Well, Mr. Connor, what is your legal issue?” you asked patiently, writing down his name automatically.

“Well, you see, I would rather talk with Mr. Barber about—my delicate situation, in private.”

Your eyes narrowed as you stopped scribbling and spared a brief glance towards the door to Andy’s office. It was opened ajar in what could be an invitation, but all blinds on both the door and the windows were down in typical fashion.

Talk in private?

Yeah, not gonna happen. You knew a few tricks that these assholes calling the office tended to pull and whoever this man was, you were growing more suspicious by the minute that he was not seeking legal advice.

You went back to your notes and wrote down the word liar right next to his name and a question mark. Was he a liar? One way to find out you guessed; you caught your phone between your ear and your shoulder, opening a new tab in your browser to google the name along with a wild guess of him being a reporter.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Connor, I’m afraid I will need more information before I put you through. And I will probably need to make you an appointment, my boss is a very busy man-“

“Oh, is he? Lots of cases in Andrew Barber’s new district, huh?”

The blood in your veins was set aflame even before the search was done, because in an instant, you knew for sure.

And then you had it confirmed by the results.

This jerk had even given you his real name, utterly shameless. Sure, he could have only had the same name as the journalist you found, but what were the chances? Two days after you told his colleague – who had made it through your vetting, got an appointment and even got past the reception desk before you spotted him for what he was – to get lost and not try again?

Your pulse skyrocketed along with your blood pressure. Technically, you didn’t owe Andrew Barber anything, but he was respectful enough, didn’t make much trouble and for most time, was an okay boss to you.

You owed him this much: he was a decent guy. Why couldn’t other people show a shed of basic human decency too and leave him the fuck alone?

“That depends, Mr. Connor,” you purred, barely holding the outrage locked inside. You felt both energized by your anger and achingly tired and done with humanity. You rested your elbows on the desk and leaned onto it with a sigh, massaging the bridge of your nose, eyes closed. “Is he going to have to sue your rag of a newspaper or will you and your colleagues finally get the memo and leave. His. Personal. Life. Alone?!”

You most definitely strained the last words through your teeth, but you didn’t care anymore if you were being rude. He was the fourth reporter today ready to ask about Andy’s personal matters. The FOURTH!! He was lucky you didn’t tell him to go fuck himself… explicitly.

“Are you threatening me?” the man demanded, his voice insulted, losing all traced of pretence.

As if you ever. You knew better than that, working with lawyers.

“Nice try, Mr. Connor. I will thank you to never call this office again unless you have legal issues or a relevant question which you should direct to our PR department anyway. And if you could extend this to all editorial staff, please, preferably to all editorial staff in the United States, that would be splendid. Have a good day. Happy Holidays.”

You slammed the phone down, missing the slot for it, not caring. You were sure he would hang up on his own.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath and hid your face in your palms, grunting, fingertips sinking into your hair.

“I hope you don’t mean me,” sounded from the doorway and you yelped, honest to god yelped and straightened in your seat, head snapping up-

-only to meet your boss’ curious gaze. Hurt and anger casted shadows over his beautiful cerulean irises, but there was no mistaking the melancholy and resignation on his face either.

“Of course not!” you blurted out quickly, panic rising in your chest.

How much had he heard? Was he going to fire you for being unprofessional? Did he figure out what was this about— of course he did, there was little room left for doubt. Your choice of words was pretty straightforward.

Andy bounced off of the doorframe he was leaning onto, not easing his stance – his arms remained crossed over his chest and had you not been so alarmed, you would have indulged in the sight of his biceps nearly cutting through the seams of his shirt.

“Why do I get the impression that whoever you were talking to was not the first person to call the office to feed on ‘the misery man’ that Andrew Barber is?” he more stated than asked, his tone unmistakably bitter.

You gulped as he approached your desk, nails digging into your palms. You had no idea what to say. Once again, you couldn’t quite read Andy; you had no idea where this was heading and how you should answer without setting him off, making him sadder or even more bitter. And without getting fired, obviously.

“I—uhm, well, I suppose you heard me, so you know he wasn’t the first—Mr. Barber. I apologize-“ His eyebrows rose a fraction and you didn’t dare to analyse why. “-if I was too loud. But--- humanity sucks.”

The moment the last two words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them, snapping your eyelids close and squeezing. You were sure you were about to have bloody crescents in your palms from your nails at this point.

Did you really just say that? To your boss, no less?

Way to go, me.

“Not wrong there. Why don’t you take your lunch break now?” he offered casually.

You nodded as you felt the tell-tale burn of tears forming in your eyes; fuck, this was humiliating. Why had he had to walk in exactly in that moment? And now using that tone?

He didn’t say anything else and you didn’t dare to look at him. Only when you heard him walk back to his office and close the door behind him, you opened your eyes and released the breath you were holding, your heart hammering in your chest.

Gulping and swallowing your tears before they could escape, you grabbed your purse and your coat, rushing out to the cold air of Portland winter.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Andy didn’t bring up the incident again when you came back. You had a short list of assignments for the upcoming days off which you went over with him before parting ways for the holidays. You mentioned you would probably drop in tomorrow despite not necessarily having to, but wished him Happy Holidays in case you’d miss him during your brief visit.

The corners of his lips twitched at that, but he wished you the same. You supposed his holidays weren’t about to be happy – more like the opposite. Last year, he celebrated with his family, even if it might have been already falling apart. This year however…

Your heart cracked another fraction for the man and you wondered if you should leave some cookies for him in the office tomorrow at least. Then you realized he would probably hate it, either being bitter about feeling like a charity case or hating the reminder of what he had lost, what wasn’t waiting for him at home anymore. Not to mention that maybe even the poinsettia, which you had placed on his office window two days ago and neither of you commented on, was already too much.

The only cookies you baked that night were the ones you knew should stay in a box with apples for over a day, the cookies you were supposed to bring to your sister’s house for Christmas, because your nephew Harry loved them.

With cheesy Christmas songs in the background and a bottle of wine for the party of one, you kneaded the double batch of dough and couldn’t but spare your achingly handsome and likely lonely boss a thought and maybe… maybe a tear or two.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

The office was empty when you arrived on 24th at around half past four; everyone left as soon as possible, which was to be expected. Admittedly, despite not knowing what you would talk about with Andy, you found your heart sinking when you didn’t see light peeking through the blinds of your and his offices. You had expected him to be working to avoid being at home; but then again, you knew next to nothing about him. Maybe he was with a girlfriend. With a boyfriend. With former colleagues. With his deceased wife’s family. It was only assumption of yours that he might be lonely on Christmas.

You shook your head at your train of thought as you unlocked your office, mentally going over which files you needed to bring home, trying to eliminate the amount as not to endanger confidential information by taking them away from the safety of the bureau.

You froze in your tracks when you found a rather large piece of paper folded into a roof on your desk. A note, you realized, frowning and slowly walking to the suspicious object.

There were very few people who could enter your space, namely three: the janitor, you and Andy. The first option was unlikely, the second impossible, the third confusing. You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just shoot you a text if he needed anything.

You halted in your steps, the air knocked out of your lungs when you noticed that the note was not the only new item on your desk.

There was a box.

A box roughly size of your extended palm. And if you weren’t mistaken… it looked like a jewellery gift box.

“What the hell?” you asked yourself breathlessly, your curiosity getting the best of you; more so as you recognized what was most definitely Andy’s handwriting on the paper.

Andrew Barber, your boss, with whom you weren’t sure what your relationship was – if there was any at all – might have got you jewellery.

Say that again?

A tiny voice in your head told you he might have just used the box for something else entirely, but that didn’t seem to be his style.

So you picked up the gift carefully, almost reverently removing the lid, your heart pounding in your chest, stomach twisting with pleasant anticipation; with the familiar rush that kids feel when opening a present with high hopes of what could await them inside.

Your lips parted in pure shock, you mind turning blank.

There were no words in English language to express how… how absolutely magnificent the bracelet inside was.

Five thin circles with symbols made of slender lines inside, looking like charms, but withing the body of the bracelet, one clasped to the next one with delicate ellipses. The metal reflected the fluorescent lights of the office, glimmering softly, appearing almost fluid, a thin stream of water trapped in a box.

You actually had to blink and it took all your willpower not to pinch yourself, because—how-

How had he known? Where had he got it? Holy mother of Jesus, how much had he spent on it?

And why get you a gift in the first place? You were… acquaintances at best. Yes, there were almost friendly moments, and then there were those nights, but this was---this- you couldn’t even---- think, apparently.

Keeping an eye on the opened box, you gently placed it back on the desk, afraid to even touch the metal itself. You blindly reached into your purse in search for your phone to dial the only number that made sense for you to dial at that moment.

It sure as hell wasn’t Andy’s.

Nothing but a dialling tone sounded for half a minute, the time seemingly endless. You fell heavily into your chair, still staring at the absolutely gorgeous and thoughtful gift.

How did he know?!

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as your sister still didn’t answer the phone and your hand automatically reached for your necklace to toy with.

And that was when it hit you.

Your necklace; one you got from your sister during the period of your biggest obsession with the Divergence series. Two arrows in a circle pointing different directions, the symbol for a ‘divergent’ person. Your eyes wandered over the five circles of the bracelet – scales, an eye, hands connected, a flame, a tree –, an incredulous chuckle escaping you.

But--- you didn’t think he would notice. You didn’t even wear it all the time, rather often, yes, and yeah, perhaps you did have a bit of a bad habit of fumbling with it when nervous-

“Hey sis! What’s up?” Amber’s voice sounded cheerily from the microphone. You jumped in your seat, startled by her as she interrupted your musing. “Please tell me you’re still coming, because Harry wouldn’t shut up about his favourite chocolate chip.”

You cleared your throat, barely able to comprehend what she was talking about, too caught up in your head.

“I—hi. Uhm- I need help actually,” you finally stuttered and you could practically feel her frown even over the phone.

“Oh? Is everything okay? You sound… a little strange.”

“That’s-“ not wrong. You scanned the office and listened in for the tinniest noise, making sure you were still alone. “I’m at the office and I--eh, I found a gift for me.”

“Awww, a secret admirer? Nice!” Amber chuckled, then abruptly stopped. “…unless it’s a stalker. You don’t think you have a stalker, right? Is that why you called me, so I could tell George? He’s not on duty-“

This time you did roll your eyes at the mention of her husband who happened to be a police officer.

“No, Amber, I have no stalker as far as I know. I’m pretty sure I can recognize my boss’ handwriting at this point.”

Nothing but silence could be heard from the other end for a good minute. You bit your lip in anticipation of… something.

And then: “You’re shitting me.”

“Not really-“

“Holy mother of-!” your sister squealed loudly and you winced, instinctively withdrawing from the phone. “Your boss got you a Christmas present?! --Wait. Is it a Walmart card? Because if it is, then this call is pointless, because that’s boring as-“

“No, Amber, he—he gave me a bracelet,” you admitted softly, your gaze once again wandering over the said object. Beautiful. Fragile. Yours, apparently. What?

When Amber only responded with silence again, words suddenly spilled from your lips, all the mixed feelings you had about receiving the bracelet released, relief singing in your veins as you vented.

“And-and it’s actually really beautiful and--- it’s thoughtful, because it has all the fractions from Divergence on it? But not like something you buy for ten dollars, only paying for the copyright or whatever and the quality is shitty, no, I mean--- it looks pretty, eh, delicate.”

It did, awfully so, which was why you still couldn’t make yourself to touch it even if you really, really liked it and wanted to do nothing but to wear it for the rest of your damn life.

“And expensive. I-- I think it might be real silver and…” you wavered, almost scared to share your last observation out loud for it seemed impossible for it to be true. “Amber, you know I looked through a lot of Divergence-related goods so I would know. It- it doesn’t look familiar at all, it’s--- I think it might be custom-made.”

You choked on the last word, tasting so strange on your tongue as you couldn’t quite believe that you were saying it. You felt--- incredulous to put it simply… and touched and- absolutely bewildered.

Silence stretched in the follow-up to your rambling and you felt your brows drawing together.

“…Amber? You there?”

“Oh yeah, I’m here,” she assured you swiftly, mischief curling around the tone of her voice like a smirk on her lips you couldn’t see. “Just wondering how could you not tell me you started sleeping with him-“

“What?! No!” you protested instantly, straightening in the chair. “I’m not—I’m not his sugar baby or whatever! This is not a ‘thank you for letting me fuck you raw’ gift-“

“Not that you would complain from what I heard and saw-“ she hummed playfully.

She was right. But shush!

“Screw you!”

“George does, that’s why we have Harry in the first place,” she sassed you. “But… sis? What kind of a gift it is then?”

And wasn’t that the question.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you should, because from what you told me, you guys aren’t even friends. Nota bene, this isn’t exactly a gift you give to a friend,” she pointed out, addressing one of the million issues concerning the damn (gorgeous) bracelet.

“I-- I guess?” You were sure, in fact. This was something to give to a… well, to a lover, to a partner. “But- Amber, he doesn’t--- that’s not-“

“What did the note say?”

“Huh?”

“You said you recognized his handwriting,” she reminded you slowly as if speaking to a five-year-old. “What does the note say?”

You glanced at the note again noncommittally, remembering exactly what it said. Pretty much nothing. Definitely nothing to go on.

“Uhm… Thank you. Happy Holidays.”

There was a beat of silence, again. “That’s it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Eloquent.” You rolled your eyes at her sarcastic tone. She should see him at court. True though, on personal level, he wasn’t exactly chatty. Unless he opened up a bit over a glass of whiskey--- anyway, she had a point, obviously. “What are you gonna do?”

That snapped you from your musing like a shot of life into your bloodstream.

“That’s why I’m calling! I should-- I should get him something too, right?” Right?! Absolutely. “Oh god, I hate last-minute shopping. And I don’t even have a fucking clue what to buy! Well, a good whiskey is always a safe bet I guess, but supporting his drinking habits doesn’t sound like a good idea. Plus, it’s kinda… impersonal with comparison to what he gave me.”

Though if there was one thing you learned about Andy Barber, it was that he could appreciate the high-quality liquor, so perhaps it wouldn’t have been as impersonal as one might think.

“Well, I don’t know him so I can’t really help, but what you got from him should definitely give you a clue.”

“A clue?” you parroted, confused.

“I don’t mean like a clue for what you should buy him. But… look, even if you didn’t suspect that it’s custom-made, which whoa, he has to pay a lot of attention to buy you something like this. Much more attention than you thought.”

“…okay?”

“He likes you, you dumbass! It doesn’t matter what you get him, he’ll be happy you got him anything in the first place!”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you deadpanned, unsure which statement you were referring to. That he liked you or that you shouldn’t take care to choose something that would really bring him at least a little joy.

You tried your best to ignore how your heart skipped the beat at the former.

“Whatever. Harry’s throwing a hungry eye on me, I gotta go fix him a snack unless I want him to eat all the candy again. Good luck!”

“Amber!“ you called out in honest despair, panic rising in your chest, only to get no answer.

You pulled the phone from your ear to look at the screen, already knowing what awaited you.

Disconnected.

Fuck.

It seemed you were on your own. Wasn’t that wonderful?

You shot your sister a simple ‘I hate you’ text, the gears in your head already turning frantically in order to figure out what you could get Andy.

Amber replied with a set of laughing emojis within seconds. Bitch, leaving you alone to deal with a situation like this! What a sister she was.

You sighed, admiring the delicate lines of the bracelet again, torn between indulgence and guilt. There was no questioning whether you should buy Andy something too.

Say yay for the last-minute shopping for a man out of your league and whom you had no idea what you should get.

You were utterly at loss, growing anxious not only about the difficult choice of a gift, but also about possible delivery, wondering what should you even tell him and when.

Maybe though…. just maybe, you were getting kinda excited about what you were about to do too.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Three hours.

You spent almost three hours at the mall where you could barely breathe because of the crazy crowds and yet you were none the wiser; your excitement left you quickly, once again replaced by despair. It took you three hours and passing the lingerie shop four times, a shop with pieces on display that barely covered anything, intended for either bedroom games or a swimming pool, before it finally hit you.

You cursed under your breath, calling yourself an idiot in murmur loud enough to have few people around you look at you in surprise.

“Dumbass, I’m such a dumbass,” you continued your monologue as you fished out your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts.

To say that the person on the other end was shocked to hear from you at this time of month and hour was an understatement.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Lee. I have… eh, a favour to ask…”

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

You were being ridiculous.

Absolutely and utterly ridiculous as you stood on a modest porch in front of a small family house, the roof hiding you from the intrusive drizzle but not keeping you quite safe from the wind as you clutched your handbag to your side as if it was your lifeline, cursing yourself for not wearing a scarf in December.

Your nose was practically freezing, your cheeks burned from the wind and your hands were cold too, because you were stupidly underdressed; as if you haven’t lived in Portland your whole life.

But that wasn’t the main issue; an Uber dropped you off about five minutes ago and still, here you were, standing outside and trying to convince yourself to ring the bell.

The plan had been to finish packing a bag and leave around 10 p.m. to your sister’s house, where you would spend the night so you could be with her family on Christmas Day from the very beginning. But then Andrew fucking Barber, your fabulous boss, left a gift in your office, a breath-taking bracelet now sitting low on your right wrist, and it all went to hell.

Maybe you could still make it to your sister’s house – it was shortly after nine, your bag waiting on your bed, so maybe you should just call another Uber and be on your way. Maybe you could leave the silly envelope in the post-box just so you wouldn’t have to deal with Andy’s reaction; after all, he had chosen the same approach; cookies be damned, there would be more left for Harry then-

But you really, really wanted to thank him. And you might be shitting your pants, but the prospect of seeing him in a domestic environment, possibly more relaxed, perhaps nearing the man you had had the honour to see on those nights… you couldn’t make yourself to pass on that opportunity.

At the same time, you kept reminding yourself that Andy did not expect to see you tonight, he might not even be home – you were pretty sure a dim light was coming from the living room, the TV on probably, but yeah, you could keep lying to yourself – and that he might be grieving and genuinely might hate you for invading his privacy since you had to search his home address in the official documents.

Yeah, you definitely should just spin on your heels and-

“Oh for God’s sake,” you muttered under your breath and pressed the doorbell, your heart suddenly hammering in your ribcage as you realized there were no takebacks now. “Shit.”

Maybe you should just run. What if he had fallen asleep already and you just woke him up?! Oh, he was so going to be pissed and he might even show that emotion, screaming you down like he did one with that intern-

A scruffle on the other side of the door snapped you from your hopeless expectations and you sucked in a horrified breath.

And then the door slid open before you could react and you were certain you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, a semi-frozen deer to make the situation worse and--- there he was.

You quickly dropped your gaze, only then realizing how rude that was and that you should meet his eye no matter how much you did and did not want to do so at the same time. As you gaze travelled up, you found that a domestic Andy was everything you imagined he would be; black socks, loose dark grey sweats, pale t-shirt slightly wrinkled. One of his arms hung loosely by his side, the other still at the door-knob as you continued your inspection, gaze caressing the line of his bare forearm, reaching the sleeves that were hugging his biceps precisely. Broad shoulders, perfectly trimmed beard framing plush lips with the slightest hint of a curious smile.

You smiled awkwardly as your eyes met his watching you with interest, dimmed with a hint of a doze-off you must have woken him up from. You tried not to dwell on the inconspicuous redness surrounding his irises.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up!” you blurted out quickly, rewarded with a light shake of his head and a stifled yawn; subtle.

“You didn’t. Hi,” he greeted you, only to make you realize that 1. you forgot to say hi and 2. his post-nap voice was a thing from wet dreams-- which was definitely not relevant at that moment.

“Hi,” you offered unsurely, eyes roaming his face, searching for any trace of anger. All you found was bewilderment; if pleasant or not, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry for barging in. I just… uhm- I wanted to thank you and-“

The hint of a smile on his lips grew a fraction, expression softening at your admission and before you could find your footing, he opened the door further, subtly extending his hand to usher you in.

Your heart skipped a beat, the strangest feeling tickling your gut, teeth sinking into your lower lip, the grip on your handbag growing stronger. Yet you accepted, taking two reluctant steps inside. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing whatever fate awaited you.

Attempting not to look too nosy, you turned back to Andy rather than scanning the hall.

Words got stuck in your throat. As tired as he looked, worn to a bone by everything but physical exercise, you couldn’t but marvel at what a handsome man he was, even without his smart suits and ties and neatly styled fluffy hair; it was still very fluffy, just more of a mess than a fashion statement.

God, wasn’t he beautiful.

He kept looking at you too in mute anticipation of something, appearing mildly lost just as you were, giving the impression of a man who couldn’t tell what to expect.

Your gaze locked with his, unyielding, a gorgeous trap and you knew you had to say or do something before your heart gave out entirely.

Your mouth opened, no words coming out and you cursed yourself, simply opening the bag and pulling out a Tupperware box with half the cookies you baked last night, practically shoving it to Andy’s capable hands.

He accepted the item with eyebrows shooting up once before settling back, eyes misting for a moment. His fingertips brushed yours as he took a firm hold of the box, the not-quite-there smile of his remaining on his lips.

He seemed perplexed.

You felt like an idiot.

“This feels so silly now,” you admitted with a sigh, realizing the absurdity of the situation only accented by the fact that you stood there in the hall of his home in your coat and high-boots, ridiculously overdressed in comparison to him.

“It’s not,” he whispered finally, forcing the corners of his mouth to rise higher. “Thank you. Didn’t know you baked. Should have figured.”

You shrugged. “Never came up.”

Something shifted in his expression as did in the air; you knew he sensed it too. The unspoken hung between you, that you meant not in your daily routine at the office, but on your private nights, so rare and precious, so desperately pretended to be non-existent the next morning.

Your gaze lowered as the silence fell on your pair again and you awkwardly shifted your weight from one leg to the other. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“So, uh-“

“Thank you for the bracelet. Really. It was-” you licked your lips, meeting his eyes again, so deep, so blue and somehow soft and you forgot what you were about to say. “Eh- I wasn’t expecting it. I-- I didn’t think you’d… notice. And--- care.”

His brows furrowed for a bit and he placed the box on the shoe rack next to him; an action he soon regretted you guessed, because his fingers went for his wrist as if he wanted to readjust his cufflinks, a nervous habit of his, only to meet bare skin. Good to know you weren’t the only one iffy in this conversation.

“But you liked it?” he asked almost shyly and the corners of your lips rose on instinct as did you right hand, the sleeve of your coat sliding down a fraction, enough to reveal the new accessory. “Looks pretty on you.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers gently slid over one of the symbols, brushing over the sensitive skin of your wrist. His gaze returned to yours, a flicker of something heated in his eyes, calling butterflies to your stomach.

Lord have mercy.

“Thanks- uhm--- thank you. Here, I got you something too.” You quickly reached into the handbag again to hide how flustered you felt – for a different reason than awkwardness.

He had touched your wrist and you turned into a blushing mess. Fabulous. And to make the matter more humiliating, now a twinkle of amusement played in his irises.

“You gave me a plant. And cookies.”

“Yeah. Kinda? But that was more of a… gesture?” you offered reluctantly as you handed him the envelope. “I uh—this is probably stupid, but, uhm--- here.”

“Stop putting yourself down,” he muttered darkly, causing your cheeks to burn hotter. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything.” Pulling out the firm colourful paper, he blinked a few times, seemingly surprised. Ha, you bet he expected a Walmart card! Instead, there was a voucher for five entrances to the swimming pool where your friend Lee worked at. “Oh. Thank you. That’s really nice of you.”

A stone the size of Texas fell from your stomach and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief. Andy seemed genuinely pleased by your choice of gift and you felt your whole body relax.

“It’s just… eh, just for half an hour each and you can pick them on a horizon of three months. I’m not sure how often you like going, so… uhm, my friend works at the place, so you just give her a call and it shouldn’t be a problem to book it for mornings right before the opening hours,” you explained lamely, earning a puzzled look.

“How did you know I liked going when no one’s there?”

That caused one corner of your lips twitch in slight amusement and your eyebrow arch, even if his reasons weren’t exactly funny; his cheeks flushed a hint of red, a sight to behold for more than one reason. It was nice to have the roles reserved, you making him feel flustered for once.

Really? The rather quiet lone-wolf Andy Barber, followed by reporters still, just asked you this? Cute.

“…that’s fair,” he said and for a brief second, you were afraid you had shared your thoughts out loud. But he didn’t look offended, so probably not. The self-awareness then. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m-eh, glad you like it.”

You stood there again, both smiling – a little reluctantly, a little soft – and once again you had no idea how to proceed.

What you did know was that you enjoyed talking to him, even if it was awkward like this. You enjoyed seeing him in his natural habitat, in his home, relatively relaxed. You thrived seeing more of this Andy Barber, just a handsome guy, not Andrew Barber, the hot-shot lawyer.

He was the first to break the silence, hesitantly gesturing further into the house.

“Would you—would you like to-“

YES! was what you brain screamed.

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother…” was what you told him, mentally cuffing yourself on the head.

“You’re not,” Andy opposed lowly. The whisper of your name that followed made you shiver.

His gazed trailed all over your face, so intense you would swear he saw right into your soul and further. You felt naked, but for some reason not too vulnerable – Andy seemed to like what he saw, expression genuinely inviting and yet. Yet there was a subtle promise of this not being a friendly invite which was as exciting as unsettling. The air appeared the crackle and you found yourself yearning to taste the electricity on your tongue.

“May I?”

He beckoned to your coat, suddenly free hands already rising and all you could do was to nod, automatically placing your handbag on the floor and unbuttoning the garment. Once if fell open, revealing simple black jeggings and a light pink sweater, Andy sidestepped you, fingers sliding under the hem, cautiously skimming over the bare skin above your collarbones, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

The warmth of his fingertips seeped into your flesh and yet you shuddered, goosebumps rising on your skin.

You watched Andy put your coat away with care, turning back to you torturously slowly. He filled all of your personal space, so close and too far. You weren’t sure when exactly the air turned so heavy in your lungs, but as your gaze travelled to his lips, not missing how his sought yours in return, you felt all the oxygen leave the room.

“Andy,” the word rolled off your tongue, nothing but a soundless breath of his name.

His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips again and back before he spoke, voice barely above a whisper, hoarse.

“Am I imagining it?”

He didn’t have to say what and still you knew with absolute certainty that he was addressing the unbearable and delicious tension, the one that had been building and coming to life during those three nights you had spent talking in his office late--- and now it was back with smouldering intensity.

“You’re not.”

You shivered and gulped when he cautiously took a single little step further into your space, your gaze falling to his chest, lowering in sudden surge of the deep-rotted insecurity, whispering about your and his world being thousands of miles apart. And yet, your heart raced in anticipation, your hopes dizzyingly high that you might touch heaven, even if for a few moments.

When his fingertips grasped your jaw, tough light and oh so careful, your eyelids fluttered close, already indulging in the sensation. God, his touch was so soft despite the roughness of his fingertips…

As if he wished to torture you or to indulge that sweet little moment before lips met lips, he stopped an inch from his destination, his breaths as wavering as yours, the words whispered straight into your mouth just a little broken.

“I’m fucked up.”

Your brain basked in blissful fog, but this got across, causing you to tense briefly.

You couldn’t deny what he was saying, you both knew he spoke the ultimate truth – well, you guessed. What had happened to him, having his life dismantled and then losing his family, that sort of thing was bound to leave a scar. Confirming it bluntly though, that felt unforgiving, only adding insult to injury.

“We all are,” you whispered instead, not only because you wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’, the words too harsh.

And it wasn’t trivializing the tragic turn his life had taken. It wasn’t downplaying the depth of his wounds. It wasn’t necessarily implying that you had been through something equally horrible either. Most importantly, it wasn’t you mocking him.

And somehow, he understood that; even if he could have interpreted it in every wrong way imaginable and shove you away, insulted, disgusted.

But no, in that fleeting moment that meant everything, Andy understood that this was your acceptance; this was you telling him that you were willing to try; take whatever he offered and give anything you could in return.

Finally, his lips brushed over yours, slightly chapped and oh so warm and delicious, withdrawing too soon, leaving you to savour the taste as your ran your tongue over your own lips. You inhaled shakily, overwhelmed by everything that was him, powerful, electrifying and then your hand was somehow on his chest, your palm laid over his racing heart, your fingers twitching as his ribcage expanded with a sharp inhale.

Blindly, your mouth searched his again, his whiskers tickling softly and scratching at once, a pleasant sensation on your sensitive skin as he grew bolder, and truly attached your lips in a kiss that made you feel lightheaded with the emotion poured into it. Your hand curled around his nape, an instinct to pull him closer, fingers toying with the short soft hair there, drawing a hum from within the expanse of his chest.

You granted him access to your mouth when he wordlessly asked, but it was him who retreated shortly after that, his heart now appearing as if in pain with its furious beats under your palm. His breaths started coming out short and it dawned to you what was wrong. How fast this could have felt to him, even if he was the one to start it.

‘I’m fucked up,’ he had said. Too caught in the moment, you hadn’t fully realized the extent of his words perhaps.

But you did now – at least a little better than before.

So when he rested his forehead against yours and a breathless ‘sorry’ slipped from his lips, you shook your head lightly and planted a kiss on his cheek, hand still on the back of his head, fingers running over his scalp in a hopefully soothing motion.

“I’ve got you, Andy. You lead.”

You had no strength to keep him close when he pulled his face away, your eyes snapping open in fright that you had said something terribly wrong.

But Andy’s cerulean eyes were big and glassy, grateful and softly speaking about him being… moved by your proposition. Your heart felt like it just grew twice its size, too big to fit into your chest at what a breath-taking picture he was.

The next thing you knew, he dropped a chaste kiss to your forehead and pulled you into his arms, an almost protective embrace, kissing the top of your head for a good measure and you melted against his large frame, smiling into t-shirt.

“Thank you,” he murmured breathlessly into your hair and your smile widened, remembering the note he had left with the exquisite gift that had started everything that led you right here into this moment.

“Happy Holidays.”

Thank you for reading! I’ve been sitting on this since the beginning of damn November. I hope you enjoyed.

It was my first (and maybe last) time writing Andy, so I hope it was alright. Feedback always appreciated.

P.S. – sorry if the nosy reporters thing offended you.

P.P.S. - …I know, the prompt was veeery loosely filled. Shush.

Pretty divider by whismicalrogers.

#happyhoelidays2020 #andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #defending jacob #post defending jacob #andy barber #holiday fic #christmas fic #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #fanfiction #challenge fic #conundrum #anika ann

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dabi-drift · 3 years

Text

Yaoyorozu, Bakugou, Compress x S/O {Valentine’s Scenarios} - Incomplete

If you want any characters adding here or to anything else I write, just drop me a comment or an ask!

Momo Yaoyorozu:

♡ La douleur exquise: the exquisite pain, unrequited love…

♡ This was perhaps the most appropriate summary of your emotions. You loved this girl, this sweet, gorgeous young woman, with all your heart, all your essence. But would she ever return that love? You watched her interactions with Todoroki and Jirou…it was more likely that she'd develop feelings for one of them.

♡ What was the point in all this pining? Not that you could help it, of course. You would've given anything to break free from the stifling jealousy, the borderline worship.

♡ It wasn’t obvious. You were the type so often described as a 'Kuudere'; your face very, very rarely betrayed your heart. But Momo…she made heat rise to your cheeks and butterflies flutter in your stomach.

♡ She was breath-taking, indescribable…incomparable.

♡ You noticed the way she captured everyone's attention, how she did it so innocently…you couldn’t help falling for her.

♡ You didn’t think she'd ever accept your advances, so you stayed at a distance. You became friends, but refused to take it further. You wouldn’t even try. You weren't willing to lose her.

♡ So when Valentine's came, you were extremely ill-prepared. Ashido asked if you were giving chocolate to anyone, and with your usual stoicism, you said no. For a split second, she seemed disappointed. Was the idea of love really that tempting to her? You would never understand that girl. Love wasn’t always something to flaunt. It hurt. A lot.

♡ Now, you weren't going to lie - you had briefly considered making Momo some chocolate with your sub-par skills, but that'd be too desperate…right? You could've waved it off as friendly, but if she was the only one to receive it, would she truly believe that?

♡ You sighed, busying yourself with school and listening to the mindless chatter of your classmates. Lunchtime approached, and you decided to sit alone. On the roof, of course (when is the roof ever not mentioned). You had to admit, all the happy couples sent you a slight wave of nausea.

♡ You were just wondering, ‘Why couldn’t you and Momo be like that? Why did love have to be so complicated?’

♡ Well, at least your food was there for you. As you began to eat, the last thing you expected was a polite little knock at the door. This was the rooftop - unexplored territory to the average student - no-one needed to be so gentle. You didn’t respond, thinking it'd been either the wind or your imagination.

♡ The door opened.

♡ It was Momo, all worn-out and blushy.

♡ Your heart rate picked up, and all potential words died on your tongue. Why did she hold such power over you? And why, why was she so damn cute?

♡ You wanted to turn her away, but a strange determination was burning in her eyes. In her hand lay a small box, complete with a ribbon and label.

♡ She moved toward you slowly, legs shaking. She presented the box to you.

♡ "I-I made these for you! Please accept them!"

♡ Although it floored you, how could you possibly refuse her?

Atsuhiro Sako/Mr Compress:

♡ His dramatic flair will certainly bleed through to this special day.

♡ This man 100% sat down and learned as many expressions of love (in different languages) as humanly possible; the more poetic the better. Obviously, he uses them at every opportunity, but on a day such as this…it was bound to be more heartfelt (I mean extra).

♡ He was forever going over-the-top, no matter whether it was your birthday, Valentine's, Christmas or anything in-between. He didn’t care for the tradition of men waiting until White Day to return gifts - he wanted you to experience the most amazing day, feel all the love he poured into you. He actually went to the trouble of purchasing (not stealing?? Man's dropped being a villain to officially become your biggest simp) everything he gave.

♡ Let's face it, the lure of thievery was strong, but his devotion to you was far, far stronger.

♡ You'd never professed to be a hero, but…you weren't a villain, either. You appreciated honesty and decency. Y'know, normal stuff - core values that villains were often shown to be lacking. So for Atsuhiro to break from his criminal tendencies, even for a moment…it meant that you were respected, cherished beyond belief.

♡ He hoped to prove as much, with each new dawn.

♡ But today, society had provided a legitimate excuse for Atsuhiro to flaunt his love. He'd organised the entire day, ensuring radio silence on the League's part. His plans wouldn’t be ruined by other obligations. Your importance surpassed theirs, tenfold. He couldn’t (nor did he ever wish to) fathom a world without your radiance.

♡ You were everything he never thought he'd find.

♡ This man will absolutely take you for a fancy dinner (PLF funded, of course), ending the night with a kiss beneath the twinkling stars - the ones he can't help but compare you to. In truth, the thousands upon thousands visible amid the partial cloud-cover, paled when judged against you.

♡ How did he ever win over such an otherworldly beauty?

♡ That thought was reoccurring. But it didn’t matter. It never would.

♡ "Tu sei un dono del cielo, e tu sei tutto quella che voglio." *You are a gift from Heaven, and you are everything I want.

♡ "Voglio passare la mia vita con te." *I want to spend my life with you.

♡ Get used to these more intimate phrases he's sprinkling into conversation. He might slip up a few times, but you'll never realise. And what does it really matter? The sentiment speaks with far greater clarity.

♡ He's a romantic at heart.

Katsuki Bakugou:

♡ Oh, your heart yearned for Bakugou's love. You couldn’t really understand it, given his attitude and that apparent God Complex. Unfortunately though, your rationale was side-lined in favour of this pursuit.

♡ Valentine's seemed like the perfect time to expose your feelings, but you just didn’t know what to do! While you stared at him a lot, you didn’t hang around the Bakusquad, and you couldn’t recall ever hearing him confess to liking something.

♡ That's where Midoriya came in. He was the ultimate treasury of information about the explosion boy. You just knew he'd have the answers. You spoke for a while in the dormitory's common room, Midoriya's notebooks spread across the table. By nightfall, you'd acquired knowledge of practically every inch of Bakugou's life. You wondered for a moment if that was a breach of privacy, but…oops?

♡ You settled on Mountain Climbing gear - Mountain Climbing, as Midoriya explained, was a favourite activity of Bakugou's. He gave you measurements, just in case you bought any clothes (how the hell did even know them), and walked you through the things Bakugou definitely wouldn’t turn down.

♡ It was gonna be a bit costly - good thing this boy was so intoxicating.

♡ It sort of felt like trying to buy his affections, but even if he issued a fierce rejection, you'd still insist he take all the stuff. You didn’t hike, so what use would it be to you?

♡ You were determined to show your love, to prove you'd be his perfect match, far worthier than anyone else!

♡ When you'd collected everything (and thrown in a few spicy chocolate treats), you wrapped it up and steeled your nerves. The day of reckoning was fast approaching, like a herald of ruin. This could make-or-break your heart.

♡ Midoriya gave you lots of encouragement, but every time you saw Bakugou in the interlude, your smile faltered. What if he really did reject you? What if he hated you?

♡ Bakugou being Bakugou, he received letters and confessions of love on a daily basis. He never reciprocated, and he always complained - they were too desperate, too annoying, too…anything! He just seemed to hate love - the very concept! It was disheartening.

♡ But you wouldn’t give up.

♡ You wanted this boy, more than life itself. You wanted to be the one he held dear, the one he protected and grew jealous over.

♡ It was a fluffy fantasy. But hopefully, hopefully, reality would prove sweeter.

♡ The morning of Valentine's descended, and you caught him just before school. He would've walked with Kirishima, but said boy dismissed himself with a smile. He'd been clued in, you supposed.

♡ Bakugou tried his usual 'What the fuck do you want? How dare you address me directly, you piece of shit idiot', but you weren't letting him. He hadn't even realised the date, but when his gaze drifted to the items in your hand, he froze.

♡ You were in the middle of "IgotyouthisandIhopeyou'llbemyvalentinebutIreallydon'tknowit'sfinetorejectmeIjustwantedyoutoknow-".

♡ You saw the blush climbing his neck. You saw it settle on his cheeks. You heard him stutter, for the very first time. He was struggling under his contradictory thoughts of: My long-time crush actually feels the same way! And, I have a fucking reputation!

♡ You took pity on him, swallowing down all your nerves and stepping forward.

♡ You kissed him.

#momo yaoyorozu x reader #bnha valentine's #bnha imagines #my hero academia x reader #bnha yaoyorozu #mr compress x reader #bnha villains #bnha mr compress #atsuhiro sako x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

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annkdarar · 3 years

Text

The Little Things You Do

Turns out Anders isn't that much of an asshole after all...

Words Count : 1,839

Pairing : Anders Johnson x Fem!Reader

Warning : NSFW→Mentions of sex, brief mentions of period sex, menstrual cycles, sex jokes (ofc)

Author's Note : This is my very first Anders fic and I'm so nervous I'm literally SWEATING. I hope you guys will like it.

Also thanks @laurfilijames for proof reading this. You're the best!

The office was still plunged in darkness when you came in. It was no surprise, really, for Anders was always late. There wasn’t much that the man actually cared about, and sometimes you wondered if his company was even one of those things.

You turned the light on, revealing a pretty much empty room, and you walked over to your desk with an exasperated sigh. There were still a ton of things left to do, emails to be sent and names to research. And many other things Anders was too lazy to do himself that you had been assigned to do.

As you sat down, you felt the faintest pain in your lower stomach, causing you to frown. Of course, that very morning, you had been graced by mother nature’s monthly visit. If only it could have waited until the next day when you wouldn’t have had a million things to do.

Ignoring the upcoming pain, you turned on your computer and got to work, which was easier said than done. With each passing minute, the pain became stronger, heavier, more intense, and you had to stop every now and then to take a breath. You forced yourself to focus on the too-bright screen, typing endless courtesies to men and women who wouldn’t even work longer than a month with you due to your boss’ unnerving and arrogant behavior.

To say the man was an asshole would be the understatement of the year. Yet, you were fond of him. Not only because of the occasional festivities you and him would partake in, in the privacy of his bed. No, that was just a bonus. Oh, you did want to punch him, quite often, but you also wanted to remind him to drink some water when it was really hot outside and not forget to get enough sleep.

Another spark of pain pierced through your body and you closed your eyes, burying your face in your hands with a loud groan. The day was going to be long, extremely, and painfully long.

Caught up in your suffering, you didn’t hear the door opening. Or perhaps you did hear it but decided to ignore the loud steps that filled the room. You didn’t flinch when you felt a presence behind you, so close that the warmth of Anders’ chest spread through your back.

“Working hard, I see.” His hot breath crashed against your ear and you rolled your eyes, dropping your hands off your face. “Wanna know what else is hard?”

“Bearing with your existence?” You replied, turning around to look at him.

Somehow, he always looked professional with his white button-up shirt and black tie hanging from his neck. If you didn’t know him, you would say that he was a pretty respectable man. But that, he wasn’t.

He brought his hand to his heart with a pout, in a faked hurt expression. “Ouch. But no, I was thinking about something a bit more...Fun.”

“Not today.” You cut him off, spinning your chair to face the computer’s screen again. You read the email you had typed once more before hitting the send button and getting on to the next one.

“Actually, I think today is a pretty good day.” He insisted, grabbing your shoulders. “What would you say about coming to mine later on tonight? Pick up where we left it last time?”

With an annoyed huff, you wiggled out of his grip. “I said not today, Anders. I’m on my period.”

“Nothing we haven’t done before.”

“Yeah, but today it hurts like hell.” You explained. “I’m not in the mood for sex. At this point, it will be an achievement if I even survive the entire day.” He snickered and mumbled something you couldn’t understand as he walked away.

The first half of your day went...okay. The pain was strong, but nothing you couldn’t handle. It was around lunch break that it got worse. The pain had gotten into your lower back, causing you to wiggle in your chair in an attempt to find a comfortable position. The food you had brought along didn’t look appetizing anymore, and you picked at it without eating anything.

You thought the pain had reached its peak but oh, how wrong had you been. You began to feel nauseous, and soon enough, you find yourself running into the bathroom to empty your stomach from what remained of your breakfast. Rinsing your mouth, you closed your eyes. You were exhausted, and there were still several hours to go before you could leave.

A knock on the bathroom door startled you and you almost choked on the water that filled your mouth. You spat it out in the sink and opened the door.

“You look terrible.” Anders pointed out. “How about you go home before you throw up everywhere and soil my floor, uh?”

The thought of refusing his offer and staying to keep working crossed your mind. But you quickly nodded as another wave of pain washed over your body. Without another word, you grabbed your belongings and rushed out of the office.

The ride home was equally terrible. Despite turning the heater on, you felt cold. And of course, the traffic was slow. Everything was against you today. At least, Anders had the decency to dismiss you, even if it was only to keep his floor clean.

“What an asshole…” You cursed. Was your anger towards him, the cars in front of yours, or the excruciating pain? You didn’t know.

When finally, finally, you reached your apartment you almost fell down several times as you rushed in and exchanged your work clothes for a sweatshirt. And when your head hit your pillow, it was like a spell had been cast upon you, and you fell asleep almost immediately, your knees pressed to your chest.

The sound of your apartment door opening dragged you out of your sleep and you sat up abruptly. Inside your chest, your heart was pounding. You weren’t waiting for anyone to visit you. Panicked, your eyes scanned the room for your phone. It was nowhere in sight. You had probably left it in your car when you had rushed inside. If someone was breaking in, you wouldn’t be able to call for help.

“Someone there?”

The familiar voice made you sigh in relief and you flopped back down, one hand on your chest to try and slow your heartbeat. “Bedroom!” you yelled.

After a few seconds, your bedroom door was pushed open and the light turned on, causing you to close your eyes.

“You could’ve taken your clothes off, now I’ll have to do it myself. Not that I mind of course.” The bed dipped under his weight as he came to rest above you, his elbows supporting his weight on each side of your head.

“I told you I wasn’t in the mood for sex.” You groaned, pushing at his chest. He moved to lie next to you and you looked at him intently. “How’d you even get inside? You don’t have the key.”

“I don’t. But I saw your neighbor and kindly asked her to let me in.” He explained with a wink.

“Great, now that I know how may I know why you came here?” You asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I texted you in case you had changed your mind but you didn’t answer. So I came here. More questions or are we ready to go?”

“You fucking suck, Anders.” You said, turning your back to him.

“No, that’s your job, darling.” He retorted, poking your ribs. You clicked your tongue and reached behind you to punch him, causing him to laugh. “Also, brought you this.”

Anders dropped something close to your stomach. Something hot and soft. You looked down at the hot water bottle and pulled it against your belly, its warmth spreading in the area.

“You got me a hot water bottle?”

He hummed and scooted closer to you. He pushed your hair away from your neck and leaned down to press gentle kisses to the sensitive skin. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access and closed your eyes. Anders’ hand found its way on your hip and traveled down your body slowly. His fingertips brushed against the naked skin of your thighs and went back up.

“Anders, I swear to God if you even try to go anywhere near my underwear, I’m chopping your dick off in the next twenty-four hours.”

He groaned and pulled away. “You’re no fun, really. I came all the way here to take care of you and that’s how you treat me?”

“Why don’t you go out then? Find someone to replace me.” You said, bringing the blanket higher on your body.

Gentle, yet strong fingers grabbed your face and you were forced to look at him. His blue eyes were on yours, soft, but intimidating. Sometimes, he looked as if he was reading right through your soul, and you hated it.

“No one can ever replace you.” He said, his voice filling your ears with a pleasant buzz. “You understand that? No one.”

You nodded eagerly and he let go of you, a smirk painted on his lips. Hesitantly, you grabbed his arm and brought it around your waist, keeping his hand close to your chest.

“Stay?” You asked quietly, placing your head back onto your pillow.

“Depends,” he said. “Can I touch your boobs?”

“Go away, you perv.” you groaned, pushing him away. He laughed again and dragged you against his chest.

“Ok, ok. Just kidding.”

It was comfortable, to just lie down with him. You felt warm, and the pain was not as intense as before. You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, but you wished it would happen more often. You were beginning to drift off to sleep again when he spoke.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, putting his hand onto your stomach. You gave him a small nod and you felt his fingers digging slightly into the soft skin.

The moan you let out as he started to massage your belly gently could have been mistaken for one from an adult movie. It felt good, extremely and utterly good. You leaned closer to his chest, almost purring under his ministrations. This definitely soothed the pain.

“Oh, God, don’t stop.” you moaned, grabbing his wrist in case he was considering pulling away.

“The name’s Anders, but as you wish, darling.” he said jokingly, and you pinched him. Not harshly, of course. You were too tired to fight for real and you didn’t want to hurt him.

And now, it didn’t matter that he was the biggest asshole to ever walk the earth, nor that this was way more intimate than sex. At this moment, you felt safe, he made you feel safe. And good, oh so very good, as he massaged the pain away. And if he was still holding you the next morning when you woke up, well, neither of you mentioned it. Not yet.

#anders johnson #the almighty johnsons #anders johnson x reader #anders johnson imagine #anders johnson x you #the almighty johnsons imagine #the almighty johnsons reader insert #dean o'gorman

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jumbojamba47 · 4 years

Audio

I Love You

Pt. 2 of Guest Room

A/N: Thank you for loving my little ball of garbage enough to warrant a second part. I’m feeling warm and fuzzy. Also... I kinda.. sorta.. really got carried away with this. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. Shout out to my irl friends who had to deal with my gleefully rubbing my grubby little paws together all day.

A/N PT. 2: TUMBLR QUIT BEING A BITCH AND JUST LET ME UPLOAD MY STORY IN PEACE PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU. The last try uploaded to my main and my stomach dropped out of my ass lmao. Fifth and hopefully final time. (I’m so sorry for the notifications spam for everyone I tagged)

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Stucky

Warnings: 18+, Angst (like so much I’m sorry), Smut, Swearing, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption

Word Count: 5702

Hollow. It’s the only way she can describe the feeling of deep-seated emptiness that settles in her as she watches the quinjet disappear in the distance. What’s that noise? She casts her eyes around her surroundings when she suddenly feels a dampness on her collarbone. Reaching up a hand, she feels moisture on her face.

Oh.

The sounds were coming from her. At the realization of her sobs, pain wracked her frame with nowhere to go.

What was she thinking?

She wasn’t.

When she left Clint in a hurry, she hadn’t even paused to consider what she would say to you if she caught you. What did she feel for you? What could she have told you? Her life conditioned her to believe love was for children. She wasn’t one.

And yet…

She couldn’t deny that there was something about you that always drew her in to you. Every hidden interaction with you pulled onto all five of her senses demanding her full attention until there was only you in front of her; drawn straight into your orbit like a moon of Saturn. Each and every private encounter made it more difficult for the hardened assassin to pull herself away from you only to act unaffected by your presence in public.

Was that love?

It doesn’t matter.

You were sunlight. You were the warm embrace of home calling out to every damaged member of this family seeking acceptance for their past sins and a place to belong.

And she?

Well, she was damaged beyond repair.

She refused to be the one to tarnish your light. And she knew, if she gave in to her weaknesses, you could never really shine. You meant too much to the team. To her. A part of her could also admit to fear. Fear of what would happen if she hurt you.

If you hurt her.

She could live with never knowing what it felt like to call you hers. To hear you whisper her name in the early morning light your sweet features the first things she lays eyes on in your shared haven.

But she knew. She’d never recover if she could have you and lose you. If she were to tear her walls down, only for you to look inside and decide it wasn’t worth it.

That she wasn’t worth it.

With a steely resolve in her eyes, Natasha turned on her heels and began to make her way back towards the gym. She had a few weeks to get her head screwed on straight. She’ll lock away and bury anything she might have felt for you if given the chance. When you’re back, she’ll apologize for the hurt she’s caused you and maybe, just maybe, you’ll let her stay a part of your life.

If, along the way, she refuses to let her mind wander to thoughts of you with someone else, well, that’s her prerogative.

xxxx

You sit in heavy silence on the quinjet. Thoughts of last night’s interactions with the red-headed assassin plaguing your mind. You still feel a pang of pain when you remember her rejection. With a mental shake of your head, you resolve to table your emotions for now to focus on the mission at hand.

You’ve been tasked with leading a team to infiltrate an underground drug trafficking ring disguised as a bi-monthly art auction. Once you arrive at your destination, you’ll be allotted two months of integration and data retrieval before another team of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents will be sent in to assist in the take down. You’re leading the team with Scarlet Witch and Falcon following your lead. Agent Hill was chosen to tag along strictly for backup and onsite supervision should the worst come to pass.

Sam and Maria sit up front; you can hear the sounds of quiet banter trickling back towards you while they try to respect your privacy, believing you to be mentally preparing yourself for the road up ahead. Wanda sits opposite you. Your emotions scream at her from across the jet, but she has the decency not to read your actual thoughts.

Still, she can’t help the concerned glances she sends your way.

Noticing her attention on you, you shift your body to turn towards her.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I could ask you the same. Where did you disappear to last night? I tried to find you after you were pulled away by Natasha, but I couldn’t find you.”

You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry. My heads been a mess lately. I didn’t mean to leave you on the dance floor like that. It was a rough night.”

A hand rises to nervously play with the hair on the back of your neck. You look to the floor.

“I also owe you a bit of an apology for how carried away I got last night. You’re amazing Wan, and I don’t want to lead you on in any way.”

She lets out a light laugh.

“Don’t worry about it, draga mea. We were just two friends who had a little too much to drink, having a little fun. No hard feelings whatsoever.”

You wince and she instantly knows that was the wrong thing to say.

“You know, I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener. Pietro used to say it’s because I had big ears when we were children.”

She reaches out a hand across the aisle to let it rest on your knee. After an internal debate, you decide to divulge everything to her. From your first interactions with the assassin and your instant connection to the fallout from last night.

Listening patiently, Wanda’s eyes widen slightly when you mention what the events that occurred in the ex-soviet’s room.

By the end, Wanda is livid with righteous indignation on your behalf.

“Well, she’s a fool for letting you go.” She squeezes your leg.

“I can’t claim to understand what’s going through her head, but you have to know her feelings aren’t a reflection on your worth. You are the glue that holds this team together and we all love you. Natasha, she…” she pauses, “she’s been through much. More than any of us will ever know. Her experiences have closed her off. But you’re both strong. Maybe you’re not meant to be, but I know you can bounce back from this. We have a few weeks before we’re due back and, in that time, I guarantee you we can get your spirit back up and bouncing like usual.”

“Damn right, we can!” You hear Sam interrupt from the front of the plane.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and let out a light laugh.

Yeah, things weren’t okay.

But maybe they will be.

xxxx

The mission goes off without a hitch and it does wonders for your confidence. As soon as you landed at the safehouse, you and your team had set to work securing the perimeter and preparing for your upcoming roles in the undercover mission. Sam moved first, infiltrating the ranks of the dealers as he uncovered the hierarchy of the operation and fed maria intel to pass on to headquarters. You and Wanda were posed as a wealthy young couple from new money, tasked with getting close to the heads of the drug ring in order to gain access to the final auction where you ultimately took down the entire operation with the aid of several agents.

Despite the smooth execution, you all still found yourselves with extra downtime between stakeouts and it led to the four of you growing closer. One of your favorite pastimes became group binge-watches of The Fairly Odd Parents and Wanda had taken to calling you Cosmo, the husband of her cartoon namesake.

“ETA: 5 minutes,” called out Hill.

From your seat, you could see the compound looming over the horizon. You take in a nervous breath and release.

Next to you, Wanda can feel your apprehensive tension and takes a moment to give your hand a firm squeeze.

“You’re okay, Cosmo. Remember our talks. You have strength. You know your worth. You’ll be fine.”

You send her a grateful smile and a nod. Your fingers squeeze her back briefly before you move to stand by the doors of the ramp as you hear the jet begin to touch down.

She’s right. During your time away, you came to terms with the fact that it’s not Natasha’s fault that she doesn’t feel the same way as you do. You know you have no control over other people’s feelings, and you owed it to the both of you to face this head on, maturely.

As soon as the jet’s ramp meets the floor of the hangar, you’re met with a wall of pure muscle that really should come with a warning label. Your feet are lifted off the ground and suddenly you’re swinging in circles. You laugh as Bucky’s long hair tickles your nose.

Wait a second.

Is that?

“James Buchanan Barnes. Put me down this instant.”

He stiffens. That’s his name. That’s who he is. He is James Buchanan Barnes. Former sergeant and integral member of the Howling Commandos. The Winter Soldier. Melted down and reforged by Hydra. He was a legend. He was a nightmare. He was feared. He was… terrified.

Christ. Hearing his full name falling out of your mouth in that tone never failed to instill the fear of God into him. Not even his ma, bless her soul, could quite measure up to the intimidating aura you exuded when he knew you were ready to tan his hide.

You stood before him, hands on your hips, feet shoulder width apart, stance strong, eyebrow peaked… and deadly.

“Did you break into my room and steal my hair mask… again?”

The others stand back, watching in amusement while he starts to sweat.

“D-doll, of course not! You explicitly told m-me your room was off limits while you were go-”

You cut him off as you step closer.

“Don’t you lie to me, Barnes,” your eyes narrow and he gulps when you push your face closer to his.

“I can smell the macadamia oil, you heathen.”

Just as you’re about to launch into a lecture about respecting other people’s belongings, you’re interrupted by the sound of Steve’s voice.

“You gotta admit, at least it’s better than smelling the greasy mop he always ends up with after training.”

Your entire demeanor lightens up as you whip around to take a running leap at your favorite Man with a Plan.

“STEVIE!”

He catches you in his arms. “Good to have you back, sugar. We missed you around here.”

You hear a soft exhale of relief come from behind you.

Tilting your head back from where you’re perched in Steve’s arms, you narrow your eyes at Bucky and make a silent gesture to indicate you’re watching him. This is far from over.

He gulps.

“Well, c’mon then, we’re all dying to hear how the mission went. The others are waiting for you in the lounge.”

You stay wrapped around your friend’s dorito shaped torso but make the effort to wriggle your way around him so you’re clinging to his back like an infant koala. He rolls his eyes but does nothing to deter you, choosing to move his arms in support of your legs instead.

“Onward, my trusty steed!” you giggle.

As one, you all make your way towards the main common area, taking the time to drop off your luggage in your respective rooms as you go. Eventually, you make your way to the lounge and as you’re carried in, F.R.I.D.A.Y. blasts the loud trumpets of a herald through her speakers.

Huh, Tony must’ve upgraded her sense of humor.

Greeting the others, you use your hands in Steve’s hair like an oversized rat with a penchant for cooking to guide him towards your favorite lounge chair. Sam and Wanda move towards the kitchen to look for the good snacks they couldn’t have undercover while everyone else gathers around the remaining lounges.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Natasha hovering off to the side near Clint but you can’t quite get yourself to make eye contact yet. You wait for everyone to settle in. Wanda approaches you with two mugs of tea in her hands offering you one with a “just the way you like it, Cosmo”. It’s punctuated with a wink and she perches herself on the arm of your seat, bringing her own around to rest across the back. Her hand finds its way to your hair playing with a few strands to keep you grounded while you purposefully train your eyes away from a certain side of the room.

Wanda really did become your rock in the weeks away. While you never repeated anything from the night of your party, you fell into an easy companionship with the young mutant that led to you each being comfortable around the other. She knew how hard your return would be for you and made it her next mission to make sure you knew you had a solid support system in place.

Seeing the close interaction between the two of you, Bucky and Steve both shoot you cheeky grins and eyebrow wiggles that have you holding up a throw pillow just under Wanda’s current line of sight. She glances down, smirks and hurls the pillow at the two men using her powers, ensuring she adds a boomerang effect to ricochet off the face of one in order to hit the other stunning both of them.

“Nice!” You give her an enthusiastic high five as she wiggles her fingers at the recovering men.

“I just learned that one on the job. I have to keep practicing for muscle memory.” She states in a faux haughty tone while you snicker at the indignation on your Brooklyn Boys’ faces.

Across the room, Natasha watches you. She knew she missed you while you were away, but nothing could have prepared her for the onslaught of emotions that crashed into her when she finally laid eyes on you after weeks apart. You still had the same mischievous spark in your eyes. Your nose still crinkled just the slightest bit when you laughed. Your smile could still light up an entire room like the Fourth of July.

God, she missed you.

She watches your raucous banter with the resident super-soldiers with a fond smile teasing the corners of her lips. She takes note of the casual arm slung across your shoulders, the hand tangled in your hair, and something inside of her burns. Her jaw clenches.

She’s not yours to have.

Clint nudges her shoulder with a pointed look. She realizes she’s been emitting a soft growl. Focus Romanoff! Where is your training? She strains but ultimately fixes her posture until she’s the posterchild for casual aloofness. Her best friend snickers but chooses not to comment on the slight rigidity he can see in her shoulders.

Tony claps his hands to gain everyone’s attention.

“Alright alright, Hermione’s new parlor tricks aside, we all know why we’re really here.”

In his best imitation of Fury’s gruff voice, he growls out, “Hill. Debrief report. Judgement on (y/hero/n)’s execution?”

Rolling her eyes but playing along, “All objectives executed to perfection. Leadership skills exemplary, sir!” she tosses in a mock salute.

It’s quiet before everyone breaks into cheers and congratulate you and your team on a successful job well done. You’re beaming when you hear Sam chime in with, “You better watch out Cap. (Y/l/n) could give you a run for your money as team captain. We might be shipping you to a retirement home sooner than we thought.

Your best friend grins at you with pride and mirth shining in his eyes and you feel warm inside.

“I think we could come to a truce and work together. Co-captain sound good to you doll?”

“I don’t think so Steve. I’ll leave the captaincy to you. I don’t think I could handle dragging the metal chicken wing over there back in line every day,” you respond with a laugh, sticking your tongue out at Sam. You draw out a squawk of offense and everyone bursts into laughter.

You turn your head slightly and find yourself making direct eye contact with the very same pair of vivid green eyes that still visit you in your dreams. You swallow down the rising emotions and offer her a small smile. She looks startled at first but relaxes slightly and gives you one of her own in return.

Maybe you could do this.

You spend a few more minutes catching up with the rest of the team, learning about what everyone has been up to while you were away. Checking the time, you slowly pull away from Wanda, who still has her weight resting on you, and announce that you’re going to head to your room to wash off and settle in before you have to fill out your mission reports.

Everyone bids you goodnight and you exit the room, walking the familiar pathway towards your own residence. Your ears pick up quiet footsteps behind you causing you to turn your head slightly.

A small sharp inhale escapes your lips. Your eyes betray you with a quick scan of her nervous form standing in front of you. Her hair is a little longer and the circles under her eyes are just the slightest shade darker. She still looks just as breathtaking as the day you walked out of her room. Her presence instantly brings you peace and you curse yourself under your breath.

Mentally slapping yourself, you plaster on a casual smile.

“Hey Nat. Been a while.”

You cringe.

Really? Been a while? Really?

She steps towards you, “Hi (y/n/n),” she responds softly.

“Listen I-”

“Can we-”

You both let out a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry. Go ahead, you first,” she says.

“Listen, Nat. I owe you an apology.”

She stills. What could you possibly have to apologize for? You’re not the one who broke the heart of the love of your life just because you had commitment issues.

Stop that. She’s not your love of anything.

She opens her mouth to interrupt but you press on.

“It wasn’t fair of me to try to push you into something you clearly weren’t comfortable with. You made it clear that you didn’t love me the way I loved you. I never wanted to make you feel like I would demand anything of you. You’re more than entitled to your own feelings and it wasn’t okay for me to project what I felt onto you.”

Frozen in place, her mind could only focus on two words.

Loved? Felt?

And didn’t that sting?

She can feel her throat start to constrict but she goes along with it.

Maybe it’s for the best.

“It’s okay (y/n/n). I understand where you came from and I’m partially to blame for letting things go on for as long as they did without taking your feelings into consideration.

“Friends?”

A small, okay large, part of her brain screamed in agony that this was wrong.

Instead, she smiles and nods opening her arms.

You gingerly step into her embrace, one arm comes up holding her shoulder while the other gently cups the back of her head in a familiar hold.

Her arms come up to wrap themselves around your middle, squeezing slightly.

If either of you noticed the other inhale just a little deeper, neither of you chose to comment.

xxxx

Several weeks go by and you’ve settled back into a familiar routine. Wanda has officially been adopted into you and your boys’ infamous trio and the brunette witch could often be seen joining in on your foolish antics around the compound. At first, the three made a pact to ensure you would never be exposed to prolonged periods of alone time with the woman who damaged your tender heart. Often times, you’d catch yourself alone with the assassin only for one of the others to immediately swoop in to whisk you away and drag you into some activity before you could draw each other into a prolonged conversation

It took you a few days to catch on to what your friends were doing. While the sentiment was greatly appreciated, you couldn’t miss the slight look of hurt that crossed Natasha’s face whenever you were pulled away from her. Eventually, you had to put your foot down, taking them aside one day. You told them that you loved them and appreciated their concern. But you’re an adult and you can handle your affairs well enough on your own.

They backed off but still continued to keep a wary lookout. They couldn’t help it. You were their favorite.

Your interactions with the devastatingly gorgeous avenger were still a little stunted and you both miss the longing stares you direct towards each other on occasion. Still, you’re getting better.

It still hurts sometimes but you’re okay as long as you still have her in your life. In any capacity.

You think you’re getting better. It stills hurts but you’re okay as long as you still have her in your life.

xxxx

You’re in the gym talking to Sam one afternoon as he spots you in the weights section while Natasha and Clint are sparring on the mats.

“The team’s decided to make an appearance at a new nightclub Aluminum Alloy Man bought out on a dare tonight. You in, sugar?”

You laugh at the latest nickname he’s given Stark but shake your head no.

“Sorry Sam but I’ve got a date.”

You hear a particularly loud grunt come from Clint and turn your head slightly to see Natasha apologizing while he’s doubled over catching his breath.

“Oh? Anyone we know?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

You roll your eyes.

“With myself, you dork. I’ve been dying to watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail and I finally have the downtime to sit through it. There’s a bottle of wine and a couch calling my name and I intend to capitalize.”

He laughs but nods understandingly.

“That’s fair. You good here? I better head out to get ready.”

“Yeah, yeah, you go ahead. Have fun tonight!” You wave him off wiping the sweat off the back of your neck with a damp towel.

“(Y/L/N)!” You hear your name called out from across the gym.

“Care to spar? Clint’s tapping out. He’s a wuss.”

You start to hesitate but choose to nod instead, stepping into the ring, setting your towel on the rope to dry.

You begin to circle one another assessing each other’s weaknesses. She makes the first move lashing out with a swift kick to your ankle, aiming to leave you off balance. You dodge out of the way and retaliate with a series of jabs towards her torso. This goes on for several minutes each of you landing several hits when Natasha launches herself off your bent knee, intending to use her signature thigh grip of death to bring you down.

Not today, Satan.

You bring your arms up, wedging them between your neck and her legs before she can get a grip. You latch onto her legs tightly before you swing her around your body, tackling her to the floor. You move your hand to cradle the back of her head to ensure it doesn’t smack into the ground, bringing yourself much closer to her body in the process.

You’re both panting heavily, stuck, mesmerized by the intense look in each other’s eyes. You have one leg between her thighs, knee pressed to her core, puffs of air intermingling between you.

Is she? Leaning towards you?

Oh, you definitely felt that wiggle of her hips against your knee.

You wet towel drops to the floor with a wet smack and just like that, the spell is broken.

You both scramble apart and you move to pick up the offending object.

Behind you, Natasha clears her throat sheepishly.

“So, I couldn’t help but overhear your big plans for tonight while you were talking to Wilson. Is there room for one more? I was actually planning to do the same, but I hear Monty Python is much funnier with good company.”

Everything inside of you screams that this is a terrible idea. But here’s the thing, you thrived off of terrible ideas.

“Sure, why not? We can start when everyone else heads out?”

Sure you would have declined, she brightens considerably and throws you a grin.

She starts walking backwards towards the door.

“Great! It’s a date! I mean- not a date-”

She smacks herself right into the door.

You let out a small laugh.

“I know what you meant.”

“Right. Yes. I’ll see you tonight!” She scurries out the door.

You stay standing there in the ring watching the space she just occupied.

On the other side of the door, Natasha leans heavily against the metal.

What have I gotten myself into?

xxxx

You bid goodbye to your friends and make sure to tell them to call you should they need anything. Once everyone is out the door, you turn around, inhale deeply, and set to work.

Despite everything, and your unfailing determination to not fall down the same rabbit hole, you can’t help but want to take care of Natasha in any capacity you can.

So, you take extra care to grab her favorite snacks, her go-to brand of wine, a couple glasses, and an oversized hoodie you always kept in the back of the closet, on hand just for her. She had a tendency to relax in thinner loungewear, but you knew once she settled in, she stubbornly refused to get up for anything no matter how cold she got.

As you set everything down on the coffee table in front of the oversized, plush couch in the center of the movie room, the beauty in question makes her way towards you in, surprise surprise, a thin tank top and shorts.

You roll your eyes but toss her your sweatshirt and she grins at you before hastily throwing it on, snuggling into the warmth. You both settle onto opposite sides of the couch, the wine and snacks split between you. The movie plays and you find yourselves relaxing. Like magnets, you eventually gravitate towards each other, sharing jokes and snacks, yelling at the large screen in front of you as the Black Knight stubbornly refuses to die.

Without realizing each other’s movements, she winds up leaning against you while your arm is wrapped around alternating between playing with her hair and rubbing soothing patterns across her shoulder and biceps.

You feel a shudder come from the deadly ball of fluff in your arms and only then do you realize your positions. You can’t bring yourself to move.

“Cold?”

“Yeah,” she nods. Attempting to burrow herself further into your clothes.

You pull her closer to you until her legs are resting over yours, head tucked under your chin, puffs of air tickling your sensitive neck.

Bad move (y/l/n).

You forget how to breathe. Natasha turns to look at you when she feels you still beneath her.

Oh. Oh god.

She didn’t realize how close she was to you and from this distance, she can see every detail of your ethereal beauty in the dim light of the movie lighting.

You turn your head to take a quick peak at her but suddenly you’re drowning in a sea of green. Your breath hitches when green is replaced by red and suddenly plump lips are crushing your own.

You moan and your hands scramble for purchase as the angel in your lap twists to straddle you. Fists tighten in your hair while she nips at your lower lip, close to drawing blood. She tugs at your shirt and you get the message. You desperately rip away your top while she follows suit before she pushes you onto your back spreading out on top of you.

A loud groan escapes your lips as the vixen in your arms finds the sensitive space right below your ear. Unwilling to be out done, you wrap your legs around her hips and gracefully flip yourselves over, trailing kisses down the crevice of her breasts, mapping your way down her body. Like Copernicus charting the stars. Reaching your destination, you pull apart the draw strings of her shorts with nothing but your teeth, earning a moan of approval from the writhing redhead. You smoothly slide back up her body, meeting her desperate lips in a searing kiss while your hand finds her center, already feeling the slick wetness ready for you. Natasha’s limbs fly to wrap around you as you set a steady pace pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Knowing she needs the extra push, your other hand moves to pull aside her bra before you deliver a harsh nip and a firm curl of your fingers.

She sees stars.

No.

She sees galaxies.

You continue to move, determined to prolong her pleasure for as long as possible.

You’re rewarded with the crack of her voice as she hurdles into the abyss.

“God, I fucking love you.”

It slips out of your mouth completely unbidden.

But it’s too late.

The damage can’t be undone.

Just like that, she snaps back to reality.

She hastily sits up. Your hand falls back into your lap as she quickly stands picking up her shirt.

“We can’t do this.”

“Natasha, I-”

“No.”

“Natasha, would you jus-”

“I said no!”

You feel like you’ve been here before.

She turns to make a hasty retreat, but you catch her hand in a tight grip before she can get too far.

“Why do you keep running from me? Am I so repulsive that the thought of being with me has you running for the hills?”

“Not everything is about you, (y/l/n),” she bites out.

Neither of you hear the team returning but all of them can hear the yelling coming from your direction and they run towards you.

“No. You always do this! Every time I think we’ve gotten to a good place; you freeze me out.”

“That’s the thing! We were in a good place! We were having fun. We had each other when we needed it and nothing more! We were so good like that. We can still be like that!”

Tears fill your eyes.

“It’s not enough.”

“Why can’t this be enough?!” she cries.

“This has to be enough,” she whispers looking at anything but you.

A hand moves to grip hers gently. The other rises to cup her chin to guide her eyes to yours.

“This could be so much more. Let me love you the way you deserve.”

Staring into your eyes, she can see you dying a little more inside the longer she stays silent.

She pulls away from you.

Okay.

You thought you could be fine with just floating in her orbit. Maybe you underestimated how long it would take for you to heal enough to allow it. Or maybe you couldn’t do this at all.

Your head tilts towards the floor. Your lips break into the softest, most heart-breaking smile she’s ever seen.

“I’m always going to love you Natasha Romanoff. But I owe it to the both of us to know this won’t be enough for me. This can’t be enough for me.”

A whimper is caught in her throat but she can’t bring herself to move when you step back away from her.

“I love you. I don’t want to,” you breathe out.

Natasha swears she hears something inside her shatter.

“I’m sorry I don’t give you the strength you need to pursue your own happiness. I really hope you find someone who does. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

You make me happy.

Just say it!

Her body screams in protest with every fiber of her being.

“Bye Tasha.”

You turn and only then do you realize that the two of you aren’t alone.

Wanda steps forward. She wraps her arms around your shoulders as she leads you away throwing a glare at the assassin.

Natasha takes a step in your direction.

“(Y/n) wait-”

She stopped by a metal arm blocking her way.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Bucky growls.

“And what do you know about what I’ve done?” She shoves him away.

“I know you hurt them! AGAIN!” he snarls, “You need to get your shit together before I’ll even THINK about letting you come anywhere NEAR (y/n) again, Romanoff.”

Her blood boils. She scoffs, “Big surprise, their guard dog immediately snaps to attention at the first sign of trouble. Tell me Barnes, does your master feed you well?”

She regrets her outburst immediately, but she’s too angry, too frustrated, too exhauseted to take it back.

“Don’t forget who trained you, Natalia,” comes out in a menacing hiss.

Frantically, Clint’s eyes snap from her to the ex-soldier advancing on her. He immediately steps between the two, placing a hand on her arm and turning towards the larger assassin.

“Whoa now, you know she didn’t mean that. Emotions are just running high right now. Let’s all take a step back. I could use a hand, Cap.”

Despite his own roiling emotions, he needs to maintain his professionalism as team captain, releasing a heavy puff of air, he moves to place a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder, pulling him to his side.

“Clint’s right. We can’t do anything to fix this right now. Everyone, disperse. We’ll regroup in the morning.” He sends a piercing glare at the redhead.

Hearing another growl, Clint whips his head back around, “As entertaining as it would be to make a compound wide betting pool with Tony on a wwe rumble between you and two tag-teaming super soldiers, maybe we should take a second to cool off outside, yeah” he hisses at her.

Gritting her teeth, she nods, allowing Clint to pull her down the hall and out the door.

As she catches a glimpse of the hall leading to your room, all she can think is one thing.

She let you slip through her fingers… again.

Tagging some incredible people who expressed an interest in pt. 2:

guys im so fucking sorry this keeps showing up in your mentions.

@natasha-danvers , @thelastavenger-3000 , @ohfuckno , @imnotasuperhero

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #black widow #guest room pt.2

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lavenderwatercolor · 4 years

Text

Kylo Ren’s Spy (Kylo Ren x Reader Smut)

Summary: You're a spy for the First Order, and Kylo Ren isn't pleased with your progress.

Warnings: Cursing, smut, dub-con smut.

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Your day had been unbearably long. All of your hours of daylight had been spent faking everything from emotions to information, you were exhausted. You’d planned on having a relaxing evening, you had a bath, bought a new nightdress, and settled down on the couch in front of your fireplace. You were working on your second glass of wine when you were rudely snapped out of your relaxed daze.

“Do you have it?”

Working as a spy for Kylo Ren wasn't an easy job. Not when he would harass you constantly, showing up in your bedroom every night to fuss at you for not getting the information he needed quickly enough. It takes time to gain the trust of people, and he couldn't seem to understand that.

At this point, you were beginning to become angry. Had he no sense of privacy? Did he not respect you enough for that? You didn’t bother moving from the couch, not even looking away from the fire. He didn’t deserve it. If he couldn’t respect your privacy you wouldn’t give him common decency.

“I’ll send word when I do.” You answered dryly, taking the last sip of wine from your cup.

“I don’t pay you to sit around all day.”

“You think I’m sitting around all day?” You scoffed, a bit insulted. You’d spend all fucking day being his rat. And now he had the nerve to call you lazy. “I’m doing my job.”

“Maybe I should redact your pay, maybe that will give you the motivation you need.” After that, he took his helmet off, something he had a habit of doing when he planned on taunting you.

“And what good will that do you?” You looked up at him and shook your head, sneering. “Calm down. I’ll get your information.”

The muscles in his jaws flexed and for a split second, he looked like a spoiled little boy. But he relaxed, so quickly it disturbed you.

“You don’t need to come every day. I don’t need to be watched. I’ll get your information.” You felt like a broken record at that point and you reached over to the small wooden table beside your chair, grabbing the fancy glass bottle of wine and refilling your cup. “You could use some as well.” You muttered and took a sip, nearly choking when it was thrown from your hand.

You’d had enough. You stood up and got so close to him you could feel his breath on your face. “What is wrong with you? I’m doing the job you’re paying me for. It takes time, Kylo, I can’t get the information you need in a day! You need to control your temper!”

Kylo grabbed your throat, turning the both of you and slamming you against the wall next to your fireplace. You looked at him with wide eyes, instantly regretting your decision. What the hell were you thinking? Did you think you were invincible? You were a spy, not a soldier!

“Watch your tone with me.” He hissed, eyes scanning over your face. You were so close, if it wasn’t Kylo’s hand around your throat you would have been aroused. His upper lip curled in what looked like disgust. “I can read your thoughts, I suggest you stop thinking so filthy.”

Your heart jumped to your throat and you swallowed hard, looking anywhere but his eyes. “Please,” It was becoming hard to breathe.

“You say that word often. Do you beg for other men as well?” How dare he? You bared your teeth and grabbed at his hand, fighting to get him off of you. He knew just the right buttons to push. “Do you? I bet you do. I bet you sound sinful when you beg.”

What the hell was he doing? You couldn’t pinpoint his motive until you felt the hand that wasn’t choking you reach under your nightgown. You gasped and fought harder against him, kicking and shoving, but it was no use.

“You’re still fighting me?” He mused darkly and you felt his gloved hand run up your bare thigh, his breath hot and humid against your cheek. “I can feel what you feel, don’t forget that. I know how lonely you are. How long it’s been.”

“Kylo,” You warned, and you tried to deny it, you tried to pretend he was wrong, but from the moment he had grabbed your throat you’d been set ablaze. And now with his hand between your legs, it was impossible to block him from your thoughts.

“You’re weak.” He spat, his hand retreating from your legs only for him to pull his leather glove off with his teeth. Oh god. How did he look so irresistible doing that?

Then he was squeezing the inside of your thigh so hard you thought he’d pull your skin off, his hand hot against your flesh. “And too defiant. You need to learn to respect me.”

And he thought this was the way to earn your respect? Normally, you were quick to retort, but with his fingers around your neck and his hand bruising your thigh, you couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. You wanted to kill him right then and there, but at the same time, he was right. You had been so lonely and it had been so long. Years since you’d been with someone. And humans had their needs.

He snorted at your thoughts and released his grip on your thigh, his hand reaching up to your panties. You sucked in another gasp and felt your legs grow weak when his fingers looped through the hem of your fabric. “Stop it, let go of me, don’t touch me!” You choked out the words but he ignored them, moving his hand from your neck to grab a fistful of your hair. You were turned around and slammed back against the wall by his grip alone, your cheekbone hitting the hard surface.

“I’ve been lonely too.” He breathed on the back of your neck, using the force to hold you in place as he pulled down your panties. “Stop lying to yourself, you want it just as badly as I do.” His voice was barely a whisper now, needy and rushed, his hands pulling up your nightgown to your hips. He sounded much more genuine, his mocking had come to an end for the moment.

“I don’t, I don’t want you.” You gritted your teeth, still keeping up the lie. He had worked you into a mess with his aggression, you’d never been treated like this, and you fucking loved it. You wanted him to fuck you against that wall. You wanted him to choke you and bite you so hard you’d be left with blood blisters on your skin.

“Your thoughts say otherwise.” His hands left you for a moment, only long enough to free himself from his uniform. “Keep denying it. We both know the truth, why won’t you give in? Let yourself feel good.” His words calmed you slightly, but only for a few seconds. Then you felt his cock rest against your inner thigh, hot, heavy and the tip of it sticky with arousal.

A bolt of electricity went through your body, and if not for the Force holding you in place, you’d be climbing up the wall to get away from him. You gave one last attempt, straining so hard against the Force before giving up.

Why fight? You wanted it. He was right. Just give in.

You relaxed and slumped against the wall, closing your eyes and letting him push inside you. Kylo shuddered and swallowed, his mouth incredibly dry. “(Y/N).” He breathed out, the puff of air from his lungs blowing a lock of hair off of your shoulder.

He had to go in slow, for his sake and yours. It had been so long for you, the only thing that had been inside you for years being your fingers. You were so damn tight.

You both moaned together, sounding sinfully beautiful, Kylo’s forehead resting on the top of your head as he tried to regain his bearings. He pushed in deeper, stretching you impossibly wide, the sensation of you squeezing the life out of his cock almost too much. He groaned, long and drawn out, his lips trembling when he was fully inside you.

“Oh, yes, oh my, Kylo,” You slurred, bracing your hands against the wall. He was no longer using the Force to hold you in place, you were willingly staying in place and letting him fuck you. He would have said something snarky about it, but you had left him breathless.

Kylo hadn’t expected to react to you this way, he thought he would have more control over himself. At this point, you could do anything you wanted to him. And he would beg for it.

He stilled for a moment, getting used to the tightness and allowing you to get used to the size of him. The room was quiet and still, save for the sound of your breathing. Both of you. Soft little gasps and sighs.

It made you uncomfortable.

“Fuck me,” You spat, getting impatient. “If you’re going to do it, fucking do it, or I’ll-”

Kylo cut your sentence short and grabbed your hair again, at the same time withdrawing and slamming back into you at a brutal pace. You cried out and felt your knees give in to their growing weakness, causing your body to fall down onto his cock. Kylo gasped sharply at the sensation of being completely inside you, then groaned and pulled your hair harder.

The pain of your weight forcing his tip against your cervix caused you to scream and you shot back upright, only for him to slap his other hand on your mouth and pull you back down on him.

He fucked into you fast, pulling you tight against his body by the grip in your hair and his hand over your mouth. Your back arched almost painfully in that position, your ass pressed into his hips with no space between your skin.

You came fast. And as soon as you did, you were angry again.

Gritting your teeth, you caught him off guard by whirling around and shoving him backward, causing him to trip over a chair and onto the floor. He hadn’t expected you to fight back anymore.

“I’m the weak one?” You were on him in a second, darting forward towards him before he could move.

You relished the look on his face. He gazed up at you with wide eyes and parted lips, completely at your mercy. You crawled on his lap and used your hand to push him flat on his back, slowly sliding your palm up his chest, over his dark clothes to wrap around his throat. “Look at you,” You hissed with a smug grin and rolled your hips down against his cock, hot and wet with your cum, feeling his length slide between your slick folds. “ Commander. ”

The sound Kylo let out was animalistic. He groaned deeply and let his head fall back against the marble floor, his hips thrusting up against your own in hopes of slipping back into your warmth.

He looked beautiful. His face flushed, his eyes blown with lust, his black curls sticking to his sweaty face and neck. “I’d make you beg for it, but I’m not patient.” You reached between the two of you and grabbed his cock, giving him a firm squeeze and making him grunt before you angled him at your entrance.

Ever so slowly you sank down on his length and sighed, tilting your head back and closing your eyes, feeling his abdominal muscles tense through his clothing under your flattened palms. It felt amazing having him fill you back up again, and at this angle it was phenomenal.

You’d never hate fucked anyone in your life, but if this is what it was like, you could definitely get used to it.

His eyes fluttered shut when he was back inside you. You slowly rose and fell, feeling his head rub against that perfect spot in your walls. He let you set the pace for a few strokes before taking control again, grabbing your hips and holding you in place while he fucked you. His thrusts were the same as before, hard, fast, and rough, demanding and merciless, making your hair bounce around your head and your moans come out as choppy ‘oh, oh, oh’s.

Since he was supporting your body you used both of your hands to squeeze around his throat.

Oh. He liked that. Being the one choked was something completely new to Kylo Ren.

He tried not to let on to the fact that he loved the feeling, especially when you were choking his cock as well. But it was painfully obvious because as soon as your fingers tightened around his throat you felt his cock twitch excitedly. He fought to breathe as you used your upper body weight to press down on his neck, still thrusting up into you with that aggressive pace.

“How do you like it?” You panted as your body was bounced on his cock. His eyes fluttered open and his attention was on your face as you spoke, flickering from your lips to your eyes. “How do you like the feeling of blood being cut off from your brain? The pressure in your head, Commander ?” Each time you teased him with his title, he came closer and closer to his climax.

With the help of your words, his orgasm came fast, swelling inside him before he let out a deep groan and sat up, looping his arms around your back to pull you down onto him. He held you firmly in place as his hips rolled against yours, spilling all of his cum into you.

He was panting hard now, gulping in fast and shallow breaths.

The feeling of your clit being pressed down so tightly on his skin set off your second orgasm and you sank your teeth into his neck, biting down hard as you rode out your waves of pleasure. The streams of white-hot bliss surged through your body, from your clit to your organs, all the way to the surface of your skin.

Fuck. What had you done?

You came down from your high and swallowed hard, opening your eyes. Kylo was still holding you tight against him so you couldn’t see his face. What was he thinking? You could feel his heart thumping against your chest, just as fast as your own, his heavy breathing rocking your bodies.

You glanced down at the damp skin of his neck under your lips, seeing that you had been the one to leave blood blisters. A deep red mark in the shape of your teeth stood out angrily against his pale skin, the bruise harsh and prominent, raised up slightly. That would be there for weeks.

No words were said for a while. The silence was finally broken when you slid off of him, out of his lap, the cum inside of you immediately leaking out of you. You placed your hand between your legs to stop the flow, but it still trickled around your fingers and down your thighs.

“You know,” You panted, walking to your panties that had been left on the floor near your fireplace. Once you slipped them back on you turned to see he had pulled himself together and was leaning against the couch. “If you fuck me like that every time you come to get information, I won’t mind you coming every night.”

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader smut #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut

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