#anyone wants to fix that stray lock on his forehead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ptergwen · 3 years

Text

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

290 notes · View notes

atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Text

Draw your swords, pt. 13

Summary: Terrified of losing Y/N, the Darkling lets his defenses fall.

Warnings: angst, slight fluff, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven // Part eight // Part nine // Part ten // Part eleven // Part twelve

=================================

“Stay with me”, the Darkling trembled as he rushed back to the camp. He held her body close to his chest, her head slumped right where his heart beats thunderstorms in her name.

She’s slipping away, he can feel it. The injuries she suffered and the power she used weakened her irreversibly.

He should be angry with her, enraged, but he had no strength to spare for violent emotions. His heart couldn’t bare much more than the pain he found himself drowning in. It wasn’t the pain of his own wounds, rather the pain of her parted lips and ragged breaths that came like final gushes of air her lungs released.

“HEALER!” He shouted, hoping, praying to the Saints he never believed in before.

“HEALER!” There was something in his screams for help, an unimaginable pain behind it.

Y/N’s fingers twitched, her chest rising in a strange manner; what should expand with an inhale suddenly draws in, a paradox he had seen in dying soldiers.

“HEALER!” It was the kind of scream that went straight for the heart.

Everyone tensed, following the Darkling – a man who never showed genuine emotion other than rage. His call for healers felt like a cry from the heart and soul that stretched across the foundations of who he is. The anguish tore through him as he saw a healer run toward him.

Letting out a shuddered breath in relief, he collapsed to his knees. “Not me!” He growled as the healer tried placing her hands on him, “Help her! Save my wife!”

Nodding, the healer looked down at Y/N with wide eyes. Another healer arrived too, then another, and another.

The Darkling refused to let her out of his embrace as two of the healers tried to take her away. “No!”

“We have to take her”, the first healer insisted. “She doesn’t have long and we have to act fast and that’s not going to happen while you’re clinging to her!” Eyes wide, she covers her mouth as it dawns on her who she’s speaking to. “Respectfully, General.”

Staring at her with raw suffering, Aleksander licked his trembling lips. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to her temple instead of her forehead – forehead kisses in this moment would feel as if he’s kissing her corpse before her final rest.

He couldn’t stomach that thought.

“If you die, I’ll never forgive you”, he whispers.

This isn’t how it’s meant to be, how it’s supposed to be. He could never believe anyone ever loved anyone the way he loves her.

Nothing ever made him so frightened as the thought of losing her.

“Take her”, Mal tells them. Looking down at Kirigan who seemed incapable of standing back up on his own, he realized he had to take over.. “And send someone for your General. Send everyone for the wounded in the field.”

Aleksander looked up, jaw clenched and eyes swimming in tears he has yet to shed.

“I’m not leaving”, Mal quipped. “She’s my General.”

Y/N wasn’t able to scream, despite the pain darkening her mind. She tried to focus on her breathing, on staying alive. The only awareness she had was of Aleksander’s arms around her – she felt his scent. When he touched her face, when he tried to gain her attention, she couldn’t open her eyes. Her ears kept ringing, mixing with a rumbling inside his chest. She managed to blink her eyes open once, just one more time to see him, but all she managed to get was a glimpse of his chin and beard.

She wondered how he’d look without it, if it would make him seem boyish, softer. Maybe it would have erased the burden on his shoulders - they may be wide, but they shouldn’t have to carry all that weight alone.

Suddenly, his scent was gone. She tried to reach for him, but her arms could not move, hanging freely instead. Cold seeped in, clinging to her insides, wrapping itself around her heart.

Slowly, her agony had faded. The pain gradually lifted, dissipating like fog. For a moment, she wondered if this is what death feels like – no more pain? No more suffering? Being alone and cold?

Despite everything, if she had a choice, she’d embrace the pain. If pain means she would return to him, to his warm arms, she’d gladly suffer.

Dizzy, confused, she felt herself being pulled up into reality. The disjointed haze receded enough for her to make sense of the world around her. Her eyelids feel heavy as she opens her eyes, the edges of her vision flickering. Blinking fast, her eyebrows knitted as her vision blurred.

‘Aleksander’, she wanted to call, but couldn’t say a word.

How odd it is that he’s the last one she thought about when she thought she’d die and he’s still the first one to come to mind when she wakes?

She no longer felt cold. He always had the ability to keep the cold away.

Sniffling, she jerked her hands away as she became aware of another’s touch. Sitting up on a table she was laid upon, she pulled herself aside before looking to the one who touched her earlier.

“It’s just me”, he raised his hands in mock surrender. “I needed to see you.” His voice is soft, sweet like honey.

Scoffing, she narrows her eyes at him and the cup of water he held out for her to take. Her mouth is dry, her throat like sandpaper. She may be angry with him, but the water he held out felt more important than their fight.

“Are you in any pain?” He asks, watching her drink all of the water in one go. “I could have them come and take it away.”

Letting out a loud sigh, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Raising an eyebrow, she licked her dry lips.

“Can they take you away?”

Snorting, he suppresses a smile. As long as she’s capable of annoying him, she’s going to be fine.

“What were you thinking?” Threading his fingers through his hair, Aleksander frowned. “You could have died.”

“Would have saved you a lot of trouble in the future”, she quips. Standing, she stumbles.

Feeling his hands on her waist, Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. Even now, when she’d like nothing more than to walk away, her body reacts to him. Looking up at him, she inhales sharply as she sees the tears in his eyes.

“I’m scared”, he admitted and she blinked.

“Of what?” She frowned, “Me?” Does her power frighten him? Because it frightens her.

He shook his head, “Of me”, he looked at her. His hands trembled as they touched her skin, “I’m scared of hurting you.”

“I’m scared of you hurting me, too.”

Dropping his hand, he takes a step back. “I don’t think I’m capable of ever hurting you.”

“Tell that to my neck”, she remarks. Her hand brushes over where his hand had tightened its grip just the night before, fixing his gaze on him. He seemed to regret it.

‘Good’, she thought. ‘I hope it haunts him, because it will haunt me.’

“I apologize”, Aleksander swallows thickly. He can’t remember the last time he apologized to someone. A part of him questioned if he ever apologized for anything he’s done in his unusually long life. “I had no right to act the way I did.”

“You once told me I could choose the way to punish you if you ever hurt me”, she takes his hand, intertwining their fingers.

Aleksander nods, “I’m a man of my word.”

“What’s your name”, she asks. “Real name.”

His eyes locked on hers like magnets of different polarities. Isn’t that exactly what they are? She’s his polar opposite in every way, fated to attract.

“Aleksander Morozova.” He uttered a name long forgotten; a name he wanted to forget.

Aleksander was a weak boy who failed everyone that cared for him. He was soft, young, naïve and a damned fool for ever believing Grisha would ever be free. Even now as he elevated their status, Grisha had to serve a human – the Tsar.

Her eyes held barely contained anger. As her hands clasped, a few stray flickers of light appeared on her fingertips. Unclasping her hands immediately, she raised her chin up. “I want to know everything. Tell me your story.”

“And when will I hear yours?” Darkling demanded, swiping his thumb under his lower lip.

“You seem to mistake this for negotiations”, she maintained eye contact defiantly. “Last night you told me to either go back to the Palace or to cross the fold and return to my father. It’s a choice that would easily mean I can choose to stay with you or leave and never look back.”

Placing a hand on his chest, Y/N smirked. “You can either tell me the whole truth or watch me leave.” She spoke through gritted teeth, “Don’t push me unless you’re willing to lose.”

Cupping his left cheek, she allowed a luminescent glow cast a light on his handsome features. She was angry, so angry and tired and her own power often terrified her. For once, she wanted to use it for her own benefit rather than hide it.

“What good will it do?” Aleksander’s bottom lip quivers as her light illuminates tears collecting in his dark eyes. “You’ll hate me as they all do. Even my mother saw me as a monster.”

“I’ve seen what you really are. And I never turned away…what makes you think I will now?”

She felt his jaw clench under the palm of her hand as he swallowed thickly, “You would if you could see my heart, all of it.”

Exhaling through her nose, she shook her head. Her eyes soften, her lips parting. How could she ever be indifferent to his suffering? She wished she could be colder, to leave him in tears and not look back. Hearing his words, his belief that he’s unlovable tugged at her heartstrings.

"Have you no faith in me?"

In a fight, they’re lethal, but around each other their armor is gone.

“I’ve waited for you for centuries. I dreamed about you for hundreds of years before I ever saw your face. I longed for you, missed you, died and lived for you.” Taking her face in his hands, Aleksander bends. His forehead meets hers as his nose brushes against the tip of hers.

“Ever since I laid eyes on you, my dreams have been clearer, focused on you. And in my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you’re whispering ‘where have you been’”, his eyes overflow with tears as he continues with a fractured smile. “I say, ‘I’ve been lost, but I’m here now’.”

Swallowing thickly, he felt as if his heart was breaking. “You’re the only person who has ever been able to find the real me. You saw me underneath all the darkness.” Reaching for her hand, his fingers tremble. “I was waiting for you without knowing it. I’ll make up for all the mistakes, for all the years I was supposed to be kissing you.”

“So why is it so hard for you to be honest with me?” She whispers, her hands trembling as they hold onto his shoulders.

His frown deepens, “Why weren’t you honest with me?”

“You once joked and said I’m no Inferni”, she shrugged. “You were right about that. My mother was. Father never knew about either of us. Your turn.”

“I was honest”, he sighs. Stepping back, he frowns. “I told you my name, I answered your questions about the black heretic.”

Reaching for him, she felt her heartache intensify once his tears began to flow freely across his cheeks.

“Don’t”, he recoiled from her touch. She wrapped her arms around her own waist, hurt by the rejection.

“It’s not easy for me to talk about my past. It’s as if I’m cutting myself open, letting the ugliness spill out. It’s not painless.” Swallowing thickly, Darkling’s eyes widen as he tries to hold back more tears from escaping him. “It would have been simpler to close myself off and find an unremarkable lover who’d never dare defy me, but I keep taking the risk because I want to be with you and I hope that one day you will feel the same way about me.”

“I want”, she stopped, tucking her hair behind her ears.

His voice was quieter, “What do you want? I’ll give you everything.”

“I don’t know”, she replied honestly. “I’m hurt, Aleks. You hurt me after you promised to protect me.”

Running a hand across his face, wiping his tears away. He averts his gaze. Watching her break because of him deepens the cracks in his poorly stapled, bleeding heart.

“What do you want”, she looked to him with a weight in her chest. How can loving someone hurt so badly even when the love is reciprocated?

“Never mind what I want”, he turned away. Facing her now would have chipped away at his fragile sanity, so he did what a coward would – he hid.

“You asked what I want”, she placed her hands on her hips. “I want to know what you want.”

Shaking his head, he let out a breathless chuckle. “You”, he smiled. “I’ll always want you.”

Closing the distance between them, she closed her arms around his neck. Before she could reach for him, he gripped her by her thighs and lifted her effortlessly. Wrapping her legs around his waist on instinct, she got lost in the rush of blood to her head when he pinned her against the table behind her. He paused, searching her eyes.

Whatever he was looking for, she hoped he found it.

“I don’t own you”, his eyes flicker to her lips as she sinks her front teeth into the soft flesh of her bottom lip. “I never did. Human or Grisha, you always owned me. I was just too blind to see it.”

Brushing his lips against hers, Aleksander smiled in resignation. His eyes are so different in moments like these, softer than she ever imagined eyes could be.

“Your silver tongue won’t get you far”, she struggled to keep her eyes open with his lips a whisper away. “But you’re free to try.”

She felt his burning gaze, finding it hard to concentrate on much besides breathing. He observed her, capturing her soft, naturally charming and appealing nature. She’s genuine and sweet, the reason why everyone’s head turns when she walks into the room.

How did he not realize it before?

She’s the sun.

She always was.

He always did squint angrily at her like he does with the fireball in the sky.

Y/N’s hands ran up and down his chest as her lips claimed his - passionately, roughly, determinedly. Without a word, she started to unbutton his kefta, her cold fingertips brushing his warm skin - until she lost patience and ripped the bottom part wide open, pressing her palm against his chest as he broke the kiss.

“Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrows in concern.

“I’ll be mad at you tomorrow. Kiss me”, she ordered, drawing a smile on his lips as she pulled him closer, her lips reattaching to his, her teeth sinking into his lower one.

Pushing him onto the floor, she didn’t waste time. Her bottoms were down so quickly he hardly had time to take a proper breath before she unfastened his pants too.

Heaving, Aleksander could hardly get enough of the view on top of him - her beautiful mouth opening in pleasure every time she sunk down on him, her eyes rolling back into her head, her hands placed over his chest to keep herself steady. She speeds up, prompting his loud, uninhibited moans that drew an honest smile upon her lips. He trusted up and into her as his high hit fully, taking her by surprise. She gasped, his thrust giving her an unexpected release as she clenched around him.

Gasping for breath, she laid on top of him. Y/N was very aware of his arm around her as it pulled her close, his hand on her hip, giving it a light squeeze. He leaned into her, his lips pressing a tender kiss to her temple, making her tingle with anticipation of something more - something she shouldn’t think about after their argument.

How can she trust his change of heart has nothing to do with the fact she’s the Sun Summoner? How can she ever trust him at all?

Clearing her throat, she pulled herself off Aleksander. “Put something on, someone might come in”, she told him as she secured her pants back on. She could hardly look at him, afraid he’d weaken her resolve. She couldn’t forgive him so easily, even if her heart ached for him.

“Let me in”, a voice from outside the tent made Y/N look to the entrance with a frown.

She crossed the distance swiftly, her hands ready in case she had to use her sword. She goes to place her hand on the hilt only to find her sword is not on her.

It’s a good thing that’s not her only weapon.

“Hey!” She shouts at the Grisha as they pulled someone away. “Stop!”

“General?!” Mal laughs as he manages to look back at her, fighting against the Grisha.

“Mal?” She chuckles, glad to see he’s still alive.

“Leave him alone!” She orders, feeling a presence behind her. She didn’t need to look to know it’s Aleksander. Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t in the mood for anymore talking.

“You’re alive?!” Mal goes in for the hug, but his eyes catch a glimpse of Kirigan’s glare and he slowly backs away. “We need to regroup.”

“How many have we lost?” She frowns.

“You’re Grisha now”, Aleksander speaks up. “You don’t have to fight for the humans.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she scoffs at him. How could he even think she’d give up on her people now?

“That’s not something I’d like. I enjoy my humanity.”

She was the flame who lit his life on fire and while he was burning, he wanted to thank her for it and ask her to stay a while longer. Darkling nearly chuckled at the thought of calling her fire, but she is and he craves the burn.

The Darkling wanted Y/N to be the one addicted to him, in equal measure as he was addicted to her. He wanted to give her a reason to stay with him, if not for love, then for lust. He’d find a way to her heart in the meantime and knowing they’ll have a forever comforts him, but he needed to have her in every other way until then.

He knew he could make her truly happy if she’d let him and he wasn’t about to let her go.

Not without a fight.

Watching her walk away with the soldier, he clicked his tongue. Mal, whoever he is, poses a threat he needs to handle.

Swiftly.

=============================

A/N - I struggled so much writing this chapter, hope you guys like it. I’m probably gonna pass out now, I’m exhausted. xx

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06 @whatthefluffrichard @aami98 @britriestbr @itsfangirlmendes @padme-parker @readingsssssssss @runawayolives @thehighladyofasgard @emlynblack @keithseabrook27 @dailydoseofchoices @deceivedeer @olympiacosplay @pansysgirlfriend @extrakyloren @daybleedsintonightfa11 @thoughts-and-funnies @weirdowithnobeardo @folkloresworld @remugoodgirl @yagorlemmalyn @gonehopelessgirl @fefethecoffeeaddict @naughtynecromancer @poison-of-the-ivie @strawb3rrydr3ss @supersouthy @theilliterateironman @evyiione @kimoranelson03 @wizardwheezes @woodsabby6 @liajiah @its-carlerrr

PART 14

#the darkling x reader #the darkling #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader #general kirigan #shadown and bone

748 notes · View notes

prfctethereal · 3 years

Text

just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: prologue

warnings: NSFW smut, oral (female and male receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, talks of a killer, general horror themes

word count: 2.9k

summary: its been a week since you’ve last seen your boyfriend as there is a murderer out and about you spend the night together, not knowing that they aren’t safe themselves.

The power had long gone out, yet you couldn’t sleep, as the wind bashed against the side of your house. Home alone - your parents had gone away for the weekend - and the storm outside gave you the spooks. A faint candlelit light warmed the living room, silhouettes dancing across the walls, as you sat curled up on the couch, trying to get the noises out of your head.

A book lay open on your lap, a random page open, but your eyes couldn’t focus on the words. You were nervous - storms always made you like that - but there was nothing you could do. All you hoped was that the storm would blow over in the morning. All you hoped was that you would peacefully fall asleep and morning would come quickly.

A scratching at the door knocked you out of your trance. Your head flicked up, eyes glossing over the front door, as you listened out. You tried glancing out the window to see who it could be, but the outside was too foggy. You could barely make out the flickering street lamps.

Cautiously, you moved towards the front door, your book folded back neatly in your hand. Maybe you could use it as a battering ram if there was an attacker at the door.

In your left hand, you picked up a candle, shining it towards the door handle. Taking a deep breath in, you flung the door open. Well, you slowly opened it, but the howling wind opened the door further.

“Jesus sweetheart, you gon’ let me stay in this rain all evening, huh?”

It was only James Potter.

Giggling, you tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him into your house, dropping your book on the way. His shirt had been soaked by the rain, no doubt that he must’ve walked all the way here from his own house. His usually beat fluffy hair was sticking against his forehead, crystal droplets clinging against his face. He looked devilishly handsome from the weather.

Staring up at his hazel eyes, you bit your lip seductively, waiting for him to make a move. For a moment, it seemed like he was just going to stay there, peering down at you through his water clogged eyelashes. Eventually, a half smirk tugged on his cheeks, a gentle rouge returning to his skin as he warmed up against the candle.

You couldn’t handle the suspense much longer. You leaned upwards, pressing your lips against his hungrily. You drank him in momentarily, getting intoxicated on his flavour - something sweet and something bitter at once - until you pulled away, needing oxygen.

“That’s a lovely welcome wagon.” James said cheekily, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his wet fingers brushing against your cheek bones. “I was starting to think you had forgotten me.”

“It’s only been a week.” You hummed, leaning your forehead against his, happy to be in his presence once again. “You know my parents don’t want me going out at the moment. They’re still so tense about the so-called killer roaming around.”

James pressed his lips to your cheek, calming your nervousness down with his touch. “I know darling. I wish they wouldn’t take it out on me though.” His soft voice vibrated against your skin. You hummed along to what he was saying.

“It’s not your fault.” You muttered. “I have you now.” You started kissing from his lips to his jawline. Your plush cushions left tiny marks on James’ skin as you nipped lightly. Listening to his light moans only spurred you on, tugging him from the entrance way to back into the living room.

Pushing him onto the couch, you straddled his lap, continuing your venture on his neck. Sucking and nibbling at the skin underneath James’ ear, your desire to see your marks on him grew. Pulling back, you admired the flush on his neck, the other warm scarlet hue already fading to a gentle violet. Underneath your heat, you could feel James’ growing bulge against you, making you groan with arousal.

You couldn’t help your excitement. Clawing at his chest, you tugged on his shirt some more, signalling that you wanted it off. In a frantic scramble of limbs, you both worked together to undo the buttons on James’ damp button-up. Pushing it off his shoulders and revealing his toned torso, you pressed your lips against his chest, smothering open mouth kisses across his pectorals, eliciting whimpers from the bespectacled man before you.

James bucked his hips against you, signalling that he was getting desperate. In an attempt to sooth his desires, you pulled yourself downwards onto your knees, looking up at him. “May I?” You asked for consent, resting your hand against his thighs, the pads of your fingers tracing delicate circles against the material of his jeans.

“Please.” James gulped, already breathing heavily. With a smirk, you hoisted yourself upwards again, hands fidgeting with the zipper on his jeans, undoing the top button. When the jeans would allow you, you pulled them down, revealing James’ girth, straining against his boxers. The sight alone made you grow wetter in your underwear.

With another nod of consent from James, you pulled down his boxers, his thick member slapping against his stomach, red and angry from the tensing beforehand. Lethargically, you stroked the palm of your hand against his skin, spreading the leaking precum from his tip all over his length, making it smoother to handle.

Quickening your pace, you looked up at the fine young man before you, whose eyes were squeezed right from the pleasure. Except, you wanted him to look at you. It had been over a week since you had last been intimate and you wanted the attention on yourself. You were the one pleasuring James, not the inside of his eyelids.

“Look at me,” you whispered against his cock, “I’m the one making you a whimpering mess.” In an attempt to please you, James looked down at you, fixing his eyes to the way you pressed gentle kisses to the underside of his cock, your lips rubbing across his sensitive veins.

“S-so good.” James whimpered, as you took the beginning of his length into your mouth, suckling on the head. “Please… I need more. Please give me more. I’ll be so good to you, please, just give me all of your mouth. I beg of you, give me more.”

Satisfied with James’ begging, you started downwards on his cock again, trying to fit as much as possible in your mouth. As you were entirely caught up in the way James was falling apart beneath you, you didn’t notice the scratching at your window, until the wind had entirely slammed against it, rain pelting the pane of glass. The swinging window had opened itself up from the ferociousness of the storm, a cool draft interrupting your intimate moment.

A chill ran up the back of your spine, and it wasn’t from arousal. You took yourself off of James’ cock, giggling as to disperse the tension. His thigh muscles were flexed and tense, sweating beading from his palms. Sitting up slightly, you placed your hand against his, a feeble attempt to calm his racing mind.

“It was just the wind, love.” You murmured, sitting back on your heels, making your way to the open window. The hissing rain coated you in a thin layer of ice cold water, as you poked your head outside, checking the yard to see if anyone was there. Exactly like you thought, no one was there, except for a stray rodent in the grass. Satisfied, you closed the window, double checking the lock to make sure it was locked tight.

Spinning around again, you noticed James’ attention wasn’t on you once again. A frown appeared on your lips as you followed James’ gaze outwards into the kitchen. “Babe..” He whimpered again.

“What’s wrong?”

“The lights.” James paused, turning his head back towards you once again. “They were flickering.”

“Impossible.” You scoffed, strutting back towards James, placing your hands on his shoulders lovingly. “The power went out hours ago.”

You could tell James was still nervous, and rightly so. For the past few weeks, it seemed like a serial killer had invited themself into the neighbourhood, slaughtering mischievous teenagers whenever they could. Luckily, it hasn’t affected your friend group much, but it has still rocked you and your community. Your parents even refused to send you back to school.

They were hesitant to even go out his weekend, but you convinced them it was a good idea, as to leave you alone from their constant pestering.

“Would you like to go upstairs to my bedroom, love?” That peaked James’ interest, who immediately started flashing puppy dog eyes, as if that would convince you further. Grinning sweetly, you took his hand in yours, pulling his pants up momentarily, as you grabbed a candle.

Hand in hand, you walked up your creaky stairs together, with you leading the way with your candle. When you reached the landing, you invited James into your bedroom, closing the door behind you to set the mood even more.

Gently placing the candle on your bedside table, you laid yourself against your plush comforter, spreading your clothed legs to tease James slightly. It was just then when James realised that you were fully clothed when he had already lost his shirt and some of his pants. Greedily, he lunged forward, nimble fingers working at the hem of your shirt.

“Please can I take this off?” James asked sweetly, meeting your eyes with his. Humming in affirmation, James ripped the top through the middle, receiving a chuckle from you. He plunged his face into your protruding breasts, inhaling the scent on your skin. His hands worked subconsciously against your arms, pushing the remains of your shirt off of your body. When the last of that flimsy material was off of you, you swung your hands behind you, unhooking your bra, revealing your perky tits fully to your boyfriend, who looked like he had just won the lottery.

“Go ahead darling.” You affirmed to the boy, who immediately latched his mouth onto your nipple, humming in delight at your taste. At that moment, you felt like heaven. The soft noises of James sucking against you brought you peace in this stressful time.

You felt James move across to your other tit as your eyes glossed over to your open curtains. In a flash, you saw a darting figure, something solid and dark standing within your tree. When you looked back, it was gone.

Must’ve been a trick of the light.

You were getting too worked up again. To move the thoughts out of your head, you gently reached underneath James’ chin, tilting his face upwards, stroking his cheek with your hand. You reattached your lips to his, pushing the anxious thoughts away, only focusing on the person giving you pleasure in the moment.

“May I?” James nosed at your jaw, taking in deep breaths, yet you were unsure of what exactly he wanted. Smirking, you cocked your head to the side, pouting ever so slightly.

“What do you want darling?” You teased, letting your finger wander across James’ skin. “If you want something, you have to ask.”

James was slowly turning into a whimpering mess as he continued nosing at your neck, placing gentle kisses to your sensitive skin when he felt like it, something you let him do lightly, as he was still a little spooked from the window situation.

Then, you felt James’ hands travel south, trying to connect to whatever skin was available. You understood in that moment what he wanted, grinning cheekily and tugging his face down. With your approval, James looked delighted, flipping your skirt upwards and pulling down your panties. Mesmerised by how your arousal had already soaked through the material, his jaw fell open slightly.

James dove in, kissing and nibbling at your quivering cunt. He licked a fast stripe up the entire length of your pussy, finishing at your throbbing clit. It was screaming to be touched from James’ accidental teasing. When he eventually attached his lips to your clit and sucked, you arched your back off of the bed in pleasure, blissful to finally be getting what you wanted.

His playful tongue teased your entrance, dipping in momentarily before completely pulling out. You hadn’t realised how much you needed him until now, but you let him have your fun. He was your good boy after all.

James continued his venture of your cunt, feasting upon it like a starving man. You tried to keep your eyes on him - to admire the sight and to not be a hypocrite - but your eyes wandered towards the window. You had the full view of the tree once again. You still couldn’t get that figure out of your head, as much as you would like to with the adoring man between your legs.

A crash rang out from downstairs.

In an instant, James shot up from between you, looking at your bedroom door that was pulled shut. You could’ve sworn that you had even heard James growl slightly. Reaching towards him, you carded your fingers in his hair, scratching at his scalp in an aid to sooth him.

“Shh- shh- shh, it will just be my cat darling, don’t fret.” You tilted his head back towards you, pulling him upwards so he was hovering over your naked body. You stretched upwards, connecting your lips with his, tasting yourself on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of his cock pressing against his lower stomach getting to you.

“I need you in me. Please, I want you.” You begged, showing a little submissive behaviour to redirect James’ attention. It worked. His eyes were fixed on you once again, his tongue darting out from his mouth to lick his lips.

“Okay love, just lie back.” James hummed to himself as he lined up his member with your entrance. Looking back at you for consent once again, which you granted with a nod, he entered your tight cunt, a moan escaping his lips.

It felt like ecstasy to be connected once again so intimately. You had forgotten how obsessed you were with the way he slotted into you. Bottoming out, he started thrusting with more effort, pushing himself along so you would fall apart. James’ favourite thing ever was the look you made when you came.

Trailing your fingers downwards, you played with your own clit, feeling your back arch from the bed. It was all too good. James was thrusting into you like it was your first time, and it almost made you forget about the storm outside.

Almost.

It seemed like your eyes were transfixed on your window. The rain was now peltering down ever harder, as if that was possible. As your own orgasm grew, it felt like the storm did too. Sweat was dripping down your face, but it felt like icy rain against your hot, flushed skin.

The lack of control was driving you mad. In a last attempt to clear your anxiety, you pushed James onto his back, his cock slipping out of you momentarily, until you straddled him once again.

Riding him made you feel better. James was back to moaning beneath you and you were calming down. The only sound that you were focused on was the sound of your skin slapping against each other and James’ heavy groans echoing off the walls.

“May I cum?” You had almost forgotten about James for a second. His eyes were screwed shut and it seemed like he had been asking for permission for a while, something that your senses must’ve skipped over. In a way to reassure your boyfriend, you ran your fingers over his chest, focusing attention on his tight nipples.

“Of course, such a good boy for me.” And with that, James came with a shout. You could feel the hot ribbons of his cum filling you up, as James toyed with your clit, desperate to make you cum against his cock before he softened. It didn’t take long as only seconds after James came, you came with him, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave, knocking over all of your senses.

When you came to, you noticed a scared look back on James’ face. Confused, you peered over to where he was looking, and heard it too. Banging against your bedroom door, someone was in your house and someone was trying to get into your room.

You screamed. It was the only thing you could do. Finding a rogue sweater off the ground, you struggled to push it over your head as James scrambled to pull his pants up. When you both felt like you were dressed enough, you rushed over to your bedroom window, opening it desperately.

A splatter of rain water hit your face, cooling you from your previous exhibitions. There was a tree right next to your window, which you reached out to, curling your fingers onto the branch. Looking back, you saw the door begin to open and panic settled in you.

You jumped. You jumped from a second story, landing not so ideally on your ankle. You hissed in pain and James followed suit, only he managed to land in a skilled way.

“Come on, hurry.” James pestered you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and hoisting you up. You began running away from your house together, your sprained ankle slowing you down more than you would’ve liked.

When you looked back, all you could see was a hollow figure standing on the footpath, watching you.

*** a/n: i wrote something again hell yeah

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter smut #james potter fluff #james potter angst #marauders era #marauders #harry potter #jahmfic

238 notes · View notes

kmorales1 · 3 years

Text

Office Affairs

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: Explicit (Anyone under 18, go away, thanks.)

Warnings: Uh, unprotected sex(this is fiction please wrap it before you tap it), i'm bad at this. One(1) mention of spit(whoops).

A note: Hey, so I wrote this in an hour and (maybe) a half. This entire thing is purely based off my intense yearning for Javi the past few days(more like weeks). Also he's incredibly hard to write for so I hope I was able to capture his character. This is also my first time writing smut, let alone posting it. Be gentle with your critics lmao. It might not be entirely cohesive but I tried really hard but anyway this is what my brain popped out.

Javier Peña is the type of guy to take you home for a quick fuck, cuddle you like he’s in love with you, and then leave an hour later without barely a glance in your direction. You know this, you’d heard the whispers about him in the embassy when you were making your way to the filing room, or to the break room for your afternoon lunch.

And you believed them.

The first night Javier took you home you were 99% sure that you’d get the best fuck of your life out of him and then he’d be gone before you could even ask him to stay the night. And let’s be honest you wanted him to stay the night. To feel him pressed against you, his broad chest against your back, his breath fanning over the back of your neck. God, you yearned for that man. Or maybe just a man, it’d been a while.

You weren’t entirely wrong though, you did get the best fuck of your life out of him, but you also found the Javier that was sprawled in your bed, a lit cigarette between his lips, wasn’t the same man he was in the daylight of the office.

He was quieter, soft spoken, almost open.

The first few times he had stayed for a bit after to lay pressed beside you talking about work and you had even managed to pull a few details about his life back home. A few. But those few details only left you craving more, and who could blame you. He was intoxicating. You hadn’t been expecting it and now that you saw it, you wanted more.

“You know, you’re different like this.”

You had practically whispered the words to him, a little scared you might somehow push him back into the person he was in the light of day. But he only offered you something almost like a smile and leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

“I think, maybe i’m just different with you.”

He didn’t elaborate or say anything more, and you didn’t say anything in response. Cause what could you say? He’d pressed you open into the mattress a few minutes later his head between your thighs. Taking you apart slowly whispering filthy things as he brought you over the edge.

Your heart clenched as he laid his head on your thigh afterwards, his hair an unruly mess.

You wanted him like this all the time.

You weren’t naïve,though. So you didn’t think much of the way he laid beside you, or the things he said to you. He could feed any pretty woman words to make them feel special, and no matter how much you wanted to be different, something told you weren’t.

That became apparent when you started seeing less of Javier and hearing more about his informants and the other women he would bring home some nights. You weren’t mad, nor jealous, but you weren’t exactly fine either.

Coming home from a late night at work you had passed him and who you assumed was one of those said people that were whispered about. She was laughing at something, his arm locked tight around her waist guiding her down the hall. His face didn’t match hers but he certainly didn’t look unhappy, and when you crossed their path trying hurriedly to get into your apartment before seeing something you didn’t want to, he barely spared you a side glance.

Fine.

You stopped giving him the attention he silently would ask for in the daytime. His gaze burning hot on your body as you silently sipped your tea in the corner of the break room. Or the way he would brush your shoulder as he passed your desk. It’s almost laughable how he could seemingly seek your attention out one minute and then act like you didn’t exist the next. You didn’t play into it and things were fine.

Until they weren’t.

“You’re ignoring me, princesa.”

He’s got you cornered in the filing room his broad form practically towering over you. This is the closest you’ve been to him since you’d seen him that night, or the occasional time he would purposeful bump into you in the office.

“Hello Javi,” You barely managed to hold onto the papers in your hands. His close proximity to you slightly knocking you off center. You weren’t entirely lying when you said things were fine, but him being so close and the smell of him nearly overpowering was reminding you of the parts that were exactly not fine.

“I’m sorry i’ve been so busy.”

That’s a lie. You know it’s a lie, he knows it’s a lie. Things had been incredibly slow the past couple of weeks. Pablo in hiding from a recent raid that hit a little too close to home.

“I think we both know that’s a lie,”

And oh, is his voice a little breathier.

You curse yourself quietly, because you’re supposed to be putting this behind you. This man only sought you out when he felt like it when he was bored. But the way he’s pressed so close to you, if you just leaned forward a tiny bit. His eyes are skimming over your face, like he’s taking in the changes he’s missed in the past few weeks he hasn’t seen you.

There’s a tilt of his head and a small push forward and his lips are a near inch away from yours.

“Don’t you miss me, baby?”

Your knees nearly buckle.

He called you that exactly one time before. A rough raid with Carrillo had him stumbling into your apartment at nearly 1 am, luckily you had just gotten home from work and were still awake. His shirt was damp with sweat, the color of it slightly darker than the original pink, a stray mark of blood on his face- you later found out wasn’t his. He’d been needy, the way he had pressed you into the counter in your kitchen, fucked you within an inch of your life it felt like. Growling filthy things into your ear, praising you, before pulling you roughly to the floor(his back didn’t forgive him for days after that) and sliding you onto him. You’d rode him hard and fast nearly sobbing your release. He’d came up to cradle you to him. Whispering baby and your name reverently into your hair. You didn’t talk about it, what had made him so frantic. You had to practically peel yourself away from him and when you did it had broken the spell. He was up, fixing his jeans, kissing your forehead and then he was gone out the door before you could even get words out.

Javier whispering your name brings you back to the present, his eyes are locked on your lips and fuck-

Your fingers are dropping the papers and urgently sliding up his back to curl in his hair, pulling him the last bit of distance to bring his mouth to yours.

You’ll tell him later that you don’t forgive him for that debacle with the woman he brought home with him and you’ll also tell him the other things that have been pent up for the past almost month. And if he doesn’t like it oh well, but god right now all you want is to be fucked by this infuriating man.

“Javi-“

Your plea is broken as his tongue swipes the inside of your mouth his hands holding firmly to your hips.

“Javi please”

He shushes you, his leg coming to press between your thighs, right against where you want him the most and you nearly keen at the relief it gives. His thigh flexes and applies just the pressure to send your hips sliding forward.

“Quiet, princesa you don’t want anyone to hear,”

Oh fuck. You’re at work right now. You’re at work fuck. You’re at work. You remind yourself again.

One more time you’re at work-

But no one really comes back here. (that’s a lie)

His hands are guiding your hips roughly, and you’re practically riding his thigh. The feeling is too much and not enough all at once.

“Anything, Javi please.”

You’re breathless whimper has him growling under his breath as he pushes you deeper into the cabinets. His hands tear your skirt out of the way, pushing your panties aside before dipping his fingers into your center.

“Baby, fuck you’re so wet,”

His fingers leave you momentarily to slide into his mouth. The hum that leaves him is enough to push a wave of slick out of you, and you eagerly grip any part of him you can reach.

“Is this for me? You have missed me,”

The smug look on his face makes you want to roll your eyes, and you would if he wasn’t currently sliding his fingers back into you and curling them just like that-

“Fuck! Javi,”

The hand that is grasping your hips leaves to hurriedly slap a hand over your mouth. His eyes are burning into yours his teeth bared slightly.

“I said quiet, do you want our coworkers seeing how much a slut you are for me?”

He licks a line up the side of your neck before coming to suckle and bite lightly on your ear.

“Youd like it wouldn’t you?”

You’re practically dripping at his words, the squelching noise from his fingers fucking into you roughly is nearly obscene. You’re so close you could cry, if he could just give a little more.

“More,”

It’s a desperate plea for anything and it’s slightly muffled by his hand but he gets the message. His hand drops and you’re caught off guard by him roughly undoing his belt and pushing his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.

You nearly moan at the sight, long and thick with precum gathering at the tip. Fuck it’s been so long you want to taste. But he’s got you shoved back up against the nearest filing cabinet, his hand back over your mouth as he nudges his cock against your clit.

You keen at the slight pressure it gives before you jerk at the feeling of him sliding into you fully his hips flush to yours.

“Fuck, hermosa,” his teeth are clenched tight the cords of his neck strained as he whispers praises into your ear.

"Baby you’re so tight, missed you.”

You don’t even have time to process the last part before he’s almost urgently pulling out to slam back in. You want to worry about the noises that are being made but just as the thought comes in it’s gone. He’s fucking into you hard, his hand still covering your mouth tightly, trying hard to mask the moans that are escaping you. The slight jingle of his belt buckle as he roughly pounds into you shouldn’t be as erotic as it is. His head is pressed to your shoulder and you can feel the air from his mouth as he pants.

You’re so close you can practically feel yourself dripping down your thighs. One of your hands is curled tightly in his hair and the other snakes down your body to rub between your clit. Your breath is coming out harsh from your nose meeting the warm skin of his hand and god the thought of his hand over your mouth as he fucks you is so much you think you might come now.

But then his hand slips away and he’s sliding it in your hair to tilt your head back. Baring his teeth he gives one particularly hard thrust before demanding.

“Open.”

Immediately your mouth snaps open and he spits.

"Fucking swallow it."

You do, quickly before you lift eagerly to meet his mouth, teeth clinking harshly.

“Javi i’m gonna come-“

He’s pulling back, whispering urgently in your ear .

"Do it baby, do it now. Cum for me."

You’re pushing to meet his thrusts hurriedly chasing the orgasm you feel tightening in your stomach.

“I said now,” The harshness in his voice sends you reeling. You keen, a little too loudly to be in your office building, the thread snapping as you tumble over the edge. Your cunt clenching hard around him. Somewhere through the haze you feel Javier bite roughly into your shoulder and his cock jerk inside of you as he cums.

His hands are sliding around you to pull you into him his face meeting your neck as he pants, his cock softening inside of you. There’s a pleasant sounding hum from him as you card your fingers through his hair your nails scratching lazily at his scalp. The room is humid and sticky you suddenly come back to yourself, sinking down from your post orgasm high.

“Javier,”

The change in your voice has him pulling back to look at you before his eyes widen in understanding.

Yes, basking in the after sex glow isn’t the best idea at the moment.

“We can talk after work okay?”

There’s a nod from him before he’s sliding out of you with a hiss and tucking himself back into his jeans. And there’s a lot to talk about, he isn’t off the hook, and you’ve got to think it over because you know you have technically no right to even be upset.

You’re adjusting your skirt when you feel him cup your cheek.

“I really did miss you.”

Its said quietly, almost like it’s a secret.

And momentarily, you forget everything you need to be confused about with him.

"I missed you too."

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x you #narcos fanfiction #narcos #javier peña smut #javier peña imagine #i literally wrote this while eating cinnamon toast crunch out the box lmfaoo #just a girl her laptop and a box of cereal #feedback is appreciated mwuah

86 notes · View notes

ilove-cedricdiggory · 4 years

Text

I love you, mum

Remus Lupin x Reader

Requested - Noppe

Summary - Remus Lupin was the love of your life, right? You thought so, that was, until he came home from an order mission finding you pregnant and hating it with his entire being. Can you handle that?

Trigger Warning - cursing, mentions of abortion, mentions of pregnancy, rude as hell Remus.

This one is kinda lengthy, so, fairwarning. I'ma make it a series, so, Part 1!

There he stood, right before you, his bag packed as your eyes watered. "I know 'm love, but you know how the order is. I don't get to pick when I go." He took you into his arms, his hand immediately running through your hair.

You both were 24 now, honestly surprised with the way time had flown by even with the pending war surrounding you. He, James, and Sirius were going to investigate a lead, one that involved the fourth member of their family from Hogwarts, Peter.

The night Peter was trusted with James, Lily, and Harry's lives, Voldemort had shown up, prepared to murder them in cold blood. The only thing stopping him that night was that you, Remus, and Sirius paid a surprise visit to your favorite new family, wanting Harry to experience a Halloween as normal as you all could make it.

Harry had been zooming through on his broom in his Kinmare Kestrels costume, the five of you cheering him on as if he was in the middle of a quidditch game himself. Voldemort had made himself known quite quickly, assuming the three of them were on their own, but was met with a small army, prepared to protect your family.

Now, Remus was leaving to go find Peter, along with looking into how deep his dedicated now lied with the monster attempting to rule your world.

"I'm going to be back before you know it. I'll be nice and safe, and I'll be home after this months turn, so we won't even have to worry about that when I come home." You nodded, but teared up at that.

"But, who'll patch you up and kiss all your bruises?" You asked softly, pushing back some of his hair to gaze into his eyes. "'M sure James and Sirius will be more than happy to help me out like they used to, although I don't think either will kiss the bruises - not that I'd want them to." He grimaced at the thought of one of his two best friends kissing each healing wound on his skin after a horrible night of turning.

"Just, come back safe, okay? Don't do anything stupid, don't let Sirius talk you into doing something irrational, don't let James cry too much about Lily and Harry either, please. I can't even imagine how they're doing. Just come back safe to me." You kissed him softly, pulling him closer to your body, only wrapped in a robe, holding him as close to you as you could.

"Of course sweets. You be safe too, go see Lily and Harry, go see Molly and the kids, don't stay cooped up in here missing me. I'm sure Molly would love to bake with you and I'm sure Lily would be more than happy to eat at much as she can, especially now that we all know she's pregnant again." He laughed softly, kissing your forehead.

"Okay, okay, go, before I lock you in the house and break your wand so you can't leave." He chuckled, wiping a few stray tears from your face as he kissed you one last time before moving to leave the comfort of the home the two of you built together.

Five minutes without him had you sobbing and feeling empty.

Six days without him had you throwing up.

Two weeks without him had you taking a pregnancy test.

Two weeks and three minutes without him had you sobbing as the plus sign on the test.

Three weeks without him had you hiding it from your best friend.

Four weeks without him had you looking for the baggiest of his sweaters and wishing he would finally come home.

Five weeks without him had you shaking in fear, fear of your growing stomach and fear of the second turn he would be fulfilling away from home.

Six weeks without him had you going to the appointment without him, without anyone knowing.

Six weeks and two days without him had you sobbing.

Six weeks, two days, and thirty four minutes had you screaming in joy as you wrapped your arms and legs around his warm hold, clutching onto him with dear life.

"Remus John Lupin!" You yelled, tears falling harder as you felt the worries of him being dead in a hole left your shoulders.

"Oh my sweet love, I've got you, yeah? I've finally got you." He whispered. Your arms were tight on his frame, holding him like you were afraid this was a dream, for him to fade away and leave you once more.

He had walked you to your bed, sitting on it with you set in his arms, his nose sniffing your hair, letting your scent calm him and moony. "Oh my girl, I've missed you so much." He whispered, your tears finally slowing. "I've missed you, bubs." You whispered, your eyes meeting his to press your lips upon his, holding his face close to yours.

Silence filled the room, his hands wandering your skin, making sure each inch of it was the same as he remembered. He didn't falter, until his hands slipped under his sweater, feeling the bump under his hands.

"The fuck?" He whispered, pulling away from you. "What's going on?" He asked you, his eyes sharp on your own.

"Um." You said, your head falling and you stared at your hands. "'M pregnant, Moons." You whispered, moving off of his lap to lift up the warm fabric, showing him your bump. "Twins." You said softly, looking up into his eyes.

"You're joking." He said, his voice void of emotion, it staying the same pitch with each syllable.

"Does it look like I'm joking? You're staring at the bump. I haven't told anyone, waiting for you to get home." You were waiting for a smile to break out on his face, for his eyes to light up, for him to wrap you in his arms once more and spin you and gently as he could before bending down and kissing your belly once - twice - three times.

But, it didn't happen.

Two minutes after he knew had you silent.

Three minutes after he knew had you shuffling back from foot to foot.

Four minutes after he knew had your eyes welling up with tears.

Five minutes after he knew had you breaking the silence, your voice louder than expected.

"Say something, Rem!" You yelled, flinching at the sound of your own tone.

"I - uh." He said, one of his hands moving down his face to attempt to shake the shock from it. "No." He said after another moment, standing up and moving across the room.

"No, we aren't having a kid, let alone two! No!" He paced back and forth, shaking his head. "No way. We're gonna have to figure something else out." He spoke, stopping to think, his face pointing up at the sky. "I'm sure there's something we can do to fix this." He said, finally turning to look at you.

"Fix this? There is nothing to fix, you prick!" You yelled, tears falling once more, but for a much different reason. "I'm fucking pregnant, this isn't something you fix!"

His eyes grew angry, glaring at you like never before. "You know how I feel about having kids! No!" He shouted, his tone matching yours.

"Fuck you." You whispered, shaking your head. You picked your wand up from your bedside table, flicking it once before a suitcase appeared and clothes began filling into it.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice monotoned once more.

"Leaving." You spoke the word, shivering at the idea of it. But, once the bag was packed, your hand wrapped around it's handle, you quickly turned on your heel, unsure of apparating out of the flat while pregnant.

"Where are you going?" His voice was slightly softer now, the actions of the moment catching up to him.

Before exiting the place you called home, more so, leaving the person you called home, you whispered. "I dunno."

Your wand was held out, summoning the Knight Bus, letting you onto it and paying the fee before looking at the man before you.

"Where to?" He asked, his left eyebrow raised at you.

You didn't think you could go to Lily and James, not wanting to face Lily's wrath towards Remus along with her hurt for not knowing about your pregnancy. You couldn't turn to Sirius, knowing he would hate his best friend in a way you could never want for the man you loved.

"The burrow, please."

The bus took you there after dropping off the two people before you, assisting you with your bag to the front door before disappearing.

Your hand shook as you knocked, but heard the pitter patter of the feet of her many children before a yell from the woman herself. "I don't know who's at the door! Charlie can you please change Ginny!"

The door flung open, revealing the woman to you. "Oh! Y/n!" She spoke, her face breaking out into a warm, wonderful smile before letting you in. "I haven't seen you for a little while, I was about to send an owl your way." She said, leading you into the home and back into the kitchen where the smell of Mince Pies filled your nose.

"'M sorry, Molly. A lots happened."

With tears in your eyes, you stood before Molly, the woman you saw as your own mother. The woman who celebrated with you when Remus asked you out. The woman who held you when you cried after your first argument with the man. The woman you had planned to tell about your pregnancy, but feeling your heart break each day you waited to tell her.

You had it all planned out. You were going to show up with Remus, once he found out and the two of you celebrated, wearing a sweater that covered your bump - much like the one you still wore. You would be holding two bags, one for each of the parents you loved so much, with a shirt for them both with the words "first time grandparent" on it.

But now, you had to tell this woman that you had kept your pregnancy from her for this long, your spouse had practically told you to get rid of the babies, and that you had left him.

"Molly, I'm pregnant." You whispered, pulling his sweater up to show the adamant bump. "And Remus wants me to get rid of them, so I left him." Your voice was breaking, shaking, and terrified of what you were to do now.

Her eyes filled with tears of her own, her arms wrapping around your frame and holding you to her. Molly Weasley: Best Hugs. She held you for a minute, letting your sobs fall from your body, holding your shaking frame. Once you calmed down as much as she thought you would, she sat you down on the kitchen chairs.

"Oh, sweet girl. I'm so sorry." Her wand flicked, bringing you a warm cup of tea before she settled in the seat beside you. "You're more than welcome to stay here. We can move Charlie in with Bill and you can take his room. You know you're more than welcome to." Her voice was soft and sincere, looking at you with the look you wished your fiance had looked at you with. Her hand reached to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear before moving it down to press softly against your growing stomach.

"Molly, you know I can't do that. I wouldn't want to put Charlie out of his room. Plus, I'm going to be getting bigger and eating more soon, I don't want to be in the way." You explained, watching as she shook her head. "In no way would you be in the way. Plus, I'd love to be here with you through this!" She exclaimed, taking your hand in hers.

"Honestly, Molly, I don't want him to find me." You admitted softly, your heart hurting at the truth. You hated how he had talked to you, how easily it was for him to suggest he "took care of it". It hurt you to your core. He was the man you thought would stand beside you through everything. Through the fears of financial trouble, through the happiness of your own home, through your pregnancy. But now, you were all alone. Your soul felt cold, the warmth he provided now long gone, leaving a feeling as cold as the harshest winter in it's place.

"Oh, honey, I understand." She said softly, nodding.

After another minute or two with the wonderful woman, you looked at her. "Molly, could I use some parchment and a quill? And your owl? I wanna write to Lily." You said softly, hating to intrude, but knowing that with one person told, that would soon turn into two, then 9, then everyone else you could imagine.

"Of course love! Of course! Bill, bring me some parchment and a quill please, y/n needs it!"

Bill soon came in, hanging you the items you requested before rushing back outside to play with his siblings. "You can go sit in the living room and write, okay?" She pushed back your hair, smiling at you before allowing you to walk off, going to write a letter for James and Lily, along with one for Sirius.

Your hand was shaking as you pondered what to write to your best friends. How do you explain that you're pregnant with their best friend's kids, that he doesn't want them, and that you've left him, all in the same day that they got home?

You set your fears aside and wrote to your best friends, letting everything out that you could.

Dear Lily and James

I'm so glad you're safe, James, I was so incredibly worried. I'm so happy you're back home with Lily and Harry.

You guys might be wondering why I'm not using our owl, that's actually what I was writing you about. I left Remus. Before you're freaking out and such, I'm also pregnant. He wanted me to "take care of it". His words, not mine.

It's twins. I don't know the genders yet, but I'm 6 weeks along. Absolutely huge though. That's a lie, I just feel huge. I can still wear one of his sweaters to cover the bump. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, Lils. I wanted to wait until Rem got home and us be able to tell you both together. Don't worry, I'm writing Sirius about it too.

I don't know where I'm gonna stay, if I'm being honest with you. I'm at Molly's right now, but I'm not staying long. I'm not staying at yours either - especially not with you pregnant too Lily, and with Harry. I can't do that to you guys. Plus, like I told Molly, I don't want Remus to know where I am.

I know that might seem wrong, but he wants me to get rid of them. I can't ever do that. They are apart of me, apart of us both. I'm growing these two precious beings that are half of us and full of our love - well, my love. How am I supposed to look him in the eyes and see him hate me as I grow our kids.

I'll write you both after I'm settled somewhere, but this will be my only letter until then. I love you both so, so much. Give Harry a kiss from me.

You folded the letter up and wrote one quite similar to Sirius before tying them to Errol and sending him off to your three best friends.

You stood and waddled back to find Molly with Fred and George outside, scolding them for attempting to get Ron to fly on their broom and hit the Bludger before it hit him.

"This is what I have to look forward to, huh?" You asked, a light smile on your face.

"Oh yeah, they're twice the trouble." She laughed, smiling. Fred and George smiled at that, proud to have caused Mischief in their family. "But they give you twice the love." She spoke, watching as they ran off while their mother was distracted.

The two off you walked towards the house once more, talking. "Did you decide what you want to do?" She asked finally, looking at you.

"I'm going to the states. I have some family there that I want to go visit, one with a guest house that I can stay in. I owled to them when I sent Lily and James one." You stood before her, tears welling up.

"You better come see me all the time still, send me pictures of you growing. Send me the address so we can come see you, especially in America! Don't let me go without seeing you growing my grandbabies." You nodded, wrapping her up in your hold.

"I won't, I swear. I'll send you so many owls, you're gonna think I am living with you." She kissed your temple, holding your cheeks.

"Okay, I put your bag upstairs in Bill's room, just as a precaution. Do you want me to go get it or-" she was cut off with a frantic knock, the hits not stopping.

"I'll go get it, that sounds urgent." You both laughed softly, your swollen feet carrying you up the stairs and to Bill's room, grabbing your suitcase before heading down the stairs.

"Molly, where is she. I just want to see her." You heard Lily speak, her voice hurried.

"Sirius, let me go! She's in there, I know she is!" Remus yelled, his voice carrying up the stairs.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit." You mumbled, looking around the stairs for some kind of hidden passage. It's a wizard and witch house, how is there not a hidden passage?" You reached for your wand, your eyes squeezing shut as you realized you set it down to write to your friends.

"Stop it! All four of you!" Molly yelled, her voice sharp. "There is a woman in my home who is pregnant and does not need this kind of stress. Now, I will ask her if and who she would like to see."

While she was speaking, you creeped down the rest of the stairs and slipped into the living room, grasping your wand.

"Worse than my own kids, I swear." You heard her mumble before walking towards the living room. "Y/n, dear? I'm sure you've heard them by now but the boys and Lily -" she cut herself off, her eyes finding you holding your wand and suitcase, your eyes welled up with tears and your lip between your teeth.

"I love you, Mum." You whispered, before clutching your belly in protection with your arm holding your suitcase, apparating from the warm home.

699 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

50 Types of Touch

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Dedicating this to the second half of my brain @garbinge because she sent me This Post by @creativepromptsforwriting and that’s what got this all going. Love you lots! xo

Warnings: language, very slight steam, minor mentions of blood/injuries

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Before anyone says anything, YES I am willfully ignoring some of the things we’ve recently discovered about canon!Nestor lmao. Let me have this 😂 This is all just soft, my friends. I needed some softness after how my week has gone and Nestor is my comfort character so it only made sense that it went this way haha. Hope you guys enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

Mayans Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 (If you want to be added to my taglist just let me know!)

Touching Foreheads: Nestor almost always rests his forehead against yours after a long kiss. He’ll usually close his eyes and just focus on the feeling of you so close to him. After a long, hard day, those few seconds of silence and closeness are how he centers himself.

Running Fingers Through Hair: The first time you ever saw Nestor’s hair out of braids, you almost lost your mind. How he managed to tame it so well all the time was amazing to you. You were always big on playing with stray locks of it, especially when he got out of the shower. When the two of you were curled up on the couch together, you found yourself absentmindedly playing with the ends of his curls. Sometimes you caught yourself and were afraid it bothered him, but you noticed that he slowly started wearing it down more and more often at home, and it made you smile.

Hiding Face in Neck: Whenever you do this to him, his hand automatically comes up to cradle the back of your head. It never fails to make him smile—he finds it to be adorable. His favorite is when he can feel your lips curl into a smile against his neck, or when he can feel your laughter against his skin.

Caressing the Other’s Hand: Nestor is notorious for doing this to you while he drives. One hand on the wheel, one hand on you, always. He’s either tracing patterns on your hand, or resting his hand on your thigh. He also loves when you do it to him while the two of you watch movies together—your eyes are on the screen but your fingers have a mind of their own.

Feeling Their Pulse: The few times that you’ve had to go to the hospital for him, it was always the first thing you would do. Didn’t matter what the doctors or monitors hooked up to him said, you had to check for yourself. Sometimes he’d be barely awake and try to crack a joke about it and you would roll your eyes through the tears, because of course he would have sarcastic remarks at a time like that.

Patting the Other’s Head: It was something that the two of you would do to each other in passing. When one was laying with their head leaning against the arm of the couch, it was almost impulsive. You remember the first time you did it to Nestor and he looked up at you, a confused expression on his face. He thought that you were trying to get his attention, or maybe crack a joke, but you just kept walking. The first time he did it back to you was to see how you’d react, but you’d just smile and continue doing whatever you were doing, sometimes letting out a quiet hum of approval. So now it was just something that each of you did, a type of acknowledgment without having to speak.

Holding Hands: He’s never been big on casual hand-holding. He’ll hold it in the car sometimes, but usually one of the only times he’s holding your hand is when the two of you are walking through somewhere together, whether it’s a crowded store or whatever business parties and functions he has to go to with the Galindos. Keeping his fingers interlocked in yours is his way of making sure that he doesn’t stray too far from you.

Shielding the Other One with Their Body: Nestor spends so much of his life ready to dive in front of bullets or whatever other danger is thrown Miguel’s way. Needless to say, his life with you doesn’t quite carry the same risks, and he works very hard to keep it that way. However, the second that he senses that someone is giving you a hard time, or making you uncomfortable in any way, he won’t hesitate to place himself between you and the other person. He’ll gently nudge you behind him, keeping a protective hand reached back and placed on your hip to provide you with whatever comfort he can while he addresses whoever was causing the issue.

Listening to the Other’s Heartbeat: Before you, he’d never met someone who found it so comforting to listen to it. Most times when you were laid up on the couch together, you’d sprawl at least partially on top of him so that you could press your ear to his chest, close your eyes, and just focus to the rhythmic beat. It was always comforting, but he never understood how much it really meant for you until one day you crawled up into his hospital bed with him and did it, and he felt your body start to tremble against his. After that he started doing it to you, too, and he started to understand the security it gave you.

Spooning At Night: He’s a Big Spoon all the way. He likes being able to wrap his arms around you and keep you pulled close. He’ll tangle his legs up with yours to soak up all the contact with you that he can. This is one of the only times that he’ll nestle his face into your neck, because it makes him feel all that much closer to you. You enjoy the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your back, and he likes feeling like he’s as close to you as he can get.

Laying Their Hand on the Other’s Neck: You rested your hands on either side of his neck all the time. You’d idly trace over the ink there as the two of you stood and talked. More often than not your hands would slide from the sides of his neck to the back and pull him into a kiss, and he’d always let you. One of his hands covered an entire half of your neck. It made you feel small, but it was also comforting to soak up all the warmth emanating from his palm.

Pushing a Strand of Hair Behind Their Ear: He’d blown the same stray lock of hair out of his face at least four times while he was working on his laptop, but he didn’t make any move to actually fix the issue. You watched from the opposite end of the couch with a small smile on your face, trying not to let your amusement be too obvious. Once he did it again you shook your head and leaned forward so you were sitting upright, motioning for him to lean in closer to you. He leaned in, expecting you to say something, or kiss him, but instead you reached out and carefully tucked the unruly strands behind his ear with a quiet laugh before collapsing back into your previous position. He sat there and watched you for a moment before shaking his head, smiling as he went back to his work.

Nudging the Other One: You were always nudging him. It was your preferred way of getting his attention. Whether you were on the couch watching a TV show and something was happening that was exciting you, or you were out shopping and you saw something that you thought looked really cool. You were always bumping his shoulder lightly with your own. At first he didn’t realize it was your preferred way of communicating your excitement, or trying to get his attention. But now feeling the slight bump against his shoulder immediately snapped him to attention.

Putting an Arm Around the Other’s Waist: You usually did this in response to him draping his arm around your shoulders. If the two of you were walking down the street he’d almost always wrap his arm around you, and your body’s natural reaction was to put your arm around his waist and pull yourself closer against his side. Sometimes he’d wrap his arm around yours if he was communicating to someone that you were with him, and vice-versa. You’d feel his fingers put pressure against your hip and you’d smile, knowing that he was proving a point to someone.

Hugging Each Other: Nestor wasn’t a big hugger until he was with you. It just wasn’t something that he had a lot growing up, and in their world of business, genuine hugs were far and few between. The adjustment after he started dating you was a bit odd for him, but now a long, tight hug from you breathed a whole new life into him. It’s the first thing he looks to do after a bad day.

Massaging Them: The first time you asked Nestor to give you a massage there was nothing but panic written all over his face. He wasn’t used to using his hands for something so gentle and intimate. He was afraid he’d do it wrong and hurt you. So you offered to give him one first and even that he hesitated on, not used to being so vulnerable and relaxed with someone. You started off by just working his shoulders and neck, but he practically turned to jello in your hands and then it didn’t take much convincing after that. The first time he gave you a back massage and you told him to just straddle your hips while you were lying on your stomach, the smirk that came across his face was priceless, and shortly thereafter massages became a favorite lazy-day activity.

Holding the Other’s Chin Up: Usually he’d place his hand on the side of your neck and then position his thumb underneath your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up and look at him if the two of you were having a difficult conversation. It was a soft but firm reminder of where his focus was. He’d always been big on eye contact with you, and when you were upset it mattered all that much more.

Squishing the Other’s Cheek: He hates when you do it. Or, rather, he acts like he hates it. But underneath the eye rolls and the shaking of his head, you can see him fighting to contain a smile. It was always done in jest, and to get a bit of a rise out of him, and it always worked.

High Fiving: The first time you held your hand out for a high five, he almost didn’t do it. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d given someone a high five over anything. But you’d come home with some really exciting news, and when you finished your story you held your hand up for a high five, and for a solid almost ten seconds he looked back and forth between you and your hand before realizing that you were serious about it.

Bandaging/Stitching Up an Injury: You do more of that than you care to admit when it comes to Nestor. You never got less worried for him, but your annoyance levels varied as time went on. You thought that he’d get mad but you’d be muttering under your breath as you cleaned out his knuckles and put bandages in the gashes on his face but when you’d look at him, he’d be smiling. You’d ask why and one time he told you he was glad that you were comfortable enough to not only stitch him up, but also let him know that you thought he was an idiot sometimes. He liked the balance in your care for him, and it got both of you to laugh despite the bloody gauze around you.

Kissing the Other’s Brow: Nestor’s go-to while he was hugging you, along with kissing your temple. For you, the feeling was always coupled with him squeezing his arms a little tighter around you for a moment as he pressed his lips gently there. It was the first step in comforting you after a bad day.

Falling Asleep on the Other’s Shoulder: The first time he looked down and saw that you had fallen asleep on him in the middle of a movie at your place was when he stopped trying to deny the fact that he was in love with you. You looked so peaceful and content slumped against his side. He didn’t dare disturb you, even when his arm started to go numb. Instead, he just settled back against the couch and chose another movie to put on.

Carrying the Other One in Their Arms: This usually follows you falling asleep on his shoulder. You’d usually wake up as he lifted you, sleepily wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into his chest as he walked to the bedroom. Sometimes you’d grumble and groan about him waking you up, but it was never too long before you fell right back to sleep. His favorite was the rare occasions that he had to carry you inside after you had too much to drink, because you’d be leaning into him, talking and flirting with him like you were still trying to pick him up at the bar, despite the fact that you lived together.

Whispering in Their Ear, Lips Touching the Skin: One of the few things that you’ve seen make Nestor let out an involuntary shiver. It drives him crazy in the best way, and regardless of how the two of you are positioned, his hands instantly start to roam and trail all over your body, silently encouraging you to keep going.

Stroking the Other’s Arm Soothingly: When you did it to him, you were usually following the outlines and designs of the ink that covered his arms. He’d watch you as you focused intently on the ink, smiling at how entranced you got by it. Sometimes when he spooned you, he’d lazily drag his fingers up and down your forearm to give just that extra bit of affection as the two of you laid there together. Depending on how tired you were, sometimes it would tickle and hearing your sleepy giggle made his entire body feel warm.

Kissing the Top of Their Head: Nestor did this if you were sitting at the table or on the couch and he was walking by you to take care of something that would take more than a minute or two—like a phone call about work or going to take a shower. If he was going to the kitchen to cook he’d make sure he stopped to kiss the top of your head before getting immersed in his cooking plans. Sometimes you’d look up at him and make him kiss you on the lips as well, other times you would smile as you continued whatever activity you were enthralled in.

Pulling the Other One Towards Them: Nestor could tell from the second you walked in the door whether you had a bad day or not. If you had, he would immediately walk over to you and pull you into a hug, letting you lean into his chest. On the opposite end of that spectrum, if the two of you were arguing and you tried to storm away mid-argument, he’d reach out and tug you back towards him—never forcefully, but he hated not resolving things and he’d all but beg for you to not storm off.

Feeling For Each Other in the Dark: Something that became second-nature to you once you started living together. He got home late a lot, and while he was usually pretty quiet and careful about getting into bed without disturbing you, every now and then it’d wake you up and even half-conscious you still reached out for him, and in those moments, he really knew what it felt like to be wanted.

Tickling: Once Nestor found out you were ticklish, it was game over. Any time you were trying to pout or be dramatic about something small, it was how he got you to laugh and abandon any plans of keeping a petty argument going. Did it sometimes result in him getting an accidental kick to the stomach? Maybe. But it was worth it to see you laughing so hard tears were starting to trickle down your cheeks. Nestor was ticklish too, but any time you would try to get him he would be one step ahead and somehow you would still end up on the receiving end of it.

Grabbing Onto Their Arm: The first time you watched a scary movie together, Nestor thought that you were going to snap his bicep in half with how hard you were squeezing onto it. It wasn’t what he expected from you—you seemed so unfazed by most things. One time he grabbed your arm while the two of you were out and about and it caught you off-guard, but you came to realize that he only did that when he felt like there was something off wherever you were, and you became very responsive to his touch, immediately making sure you stayed closer to his side.

Pinky Swears: Another thing that he couldn’t remember doing since childhood. But he realized that you used them for little reassurances that were actually big reassurances. The most common reason that you would lock him into one was when he told you he would be leaving for work for a few days. “Promise you’ll come home in one piece?” you’d ask. He’d smile and nod, “Promise.” And then you’d hold your pink out, “Pinky promise?” He’d lock his pinky with yours and pull you close to kiss you on the lips, “Pinky promise.”

Caressing the Other’s Back: Nestor was big on slipping his hands underneath the fabric of your shirt so he could run his hands up and down your back while he held you. Whether you were standing and hugging, or you were laying on his chest, he liked being able to feel the softness of your skin underneath his fingertips. Sometimes, when he was sitting at the table hunched over his computer, you’d materialize behind him and use your palm to run circles into his back, gently reminding him that he’d have to go to sleep eventually.

Tasting Their Smile: Feeling Nestor smile while he kissed you was one of your favorite things in the world. You’d cup his face in both your hands as you pressed your lips to his and soon enough you could feel him smiling as he held you tight. Sometimes the two of you would be trying to kiss through the laughter and it was clumsy but it was perfect.

Washing the Other’s Body: The first time that you climbed into the shower with Nestor without the intention of fooling around, it caught him off-guard. He’d had a rough go of it with whatever he was doing with Galindo, and he’d come home dirty and blood, instantly making his way to the bathroom to wash off stress. You gave him a minute or two to himself before getting in with him. He’d sighed as he rested his forehead against yours, and it was the most defeated you’d ever seen him. You kissed him and told him to turn around and you gently started to wash all the blemishes and stains from his skin. He was tense at first, but he gradually eased into it and took comfort in you taking care of him. He would do the same for you, too, hands tenderly running body wash all over you as he soaked up the way you’d relax and smile at his touch.

Kissing Bruises and Scars: He never liked talking about how he got his many miscellaneous scars, and you never pressed him about it. Nonetheless, in the small hours of the morning when the two of you were laid up together, you’d find yourself lightly kissing over them. He’d look at you with a soft smile, not commenting on it one way or the other. By the same token, when he laid with you and noticed a new bruise on your arm or leg, he’d ask where it came from. Nine times out of ten you had no idea, and usually didn’t notice them until he said something. He’d kiss them, telling you to be more careful, and you’d laugh, telling him that something wasn’t quite right about him telling you to be more careful.

Lifting the Other One Up: Watching you climb on chairs and counters at home stressed Nestor out more than it should’ve. But one day he saw you getting ready to climb up onto the counter to get a pot from the top shelf and before you could prop your leg up, he just walked up behind you and lifted you up so you could grab it. Could it have grabbed it himself? Sure. Would that have been easier? Probably. But was it the hardest you’d laughed in a while when you realized what he was doing? Definitely. Now if he was able to catch it in time, he’d always prop you up to help you out, but mostly just to hear the laughter it caused.

Putting Their Head on the Other’s Chest: Nestor very rarely laid on you, but when he was exhausted and feeling defeated, he would situate himself between your legs and rest his head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat. And, more often than not, it was a silent invitation to play with his hair because it soothed him. You always defaulted to laying against his chest, but on the rare occasions that he did it to you, you made sure to be extra attentive and careful with him. It was sad but also calming in a way to feel his chest rise and fall against you as he wrapped his arms around you.

Stroking Their Leg: If you were on one end of the couch and Nestor was sitting in the middle, he almost always pulled your legs so that they were draped over his lap. And if he wasn’t doing anything besides watching a show or a movie, he almost always found himself grazing his fingers up and down your shins. Usually you’d be scrolling on your phone or doing things on your laptop, and you’d flick your eyes up to look at him but he would be completely enthralled with the movie, hardly noticing what he was doing. But you took comfort in the sensation of the pads of his fingers going up to your knee and back down again.

Leaning Into the Other’s Side: Even if you didn’t start out that way, any time the two of you sat near each other you always gravitated towards him and ended up leaning on him. You didn’t always mean to—it was like a subconscious pull. Nestor noticed but he never said anything about it, liking that you always wanted to be close. He’d wrap his arm around your shoulders to invite you to be as close as you wanted, and you never turned down the invitation.

Patting Them on the Back: More often than not, if you were patting him on the back it was usually to punctuate a reminder while he was working. You’d casually remind him that he hadn’t eaten anything all night, “So you might wanna get on that, baby,” you’d give him a gentle pat on the back or the shoulder before walking away, leaving him to whatever he was immersed in. It was usually enough to snap him out of it, to get him to tap back into reality long enough to take care of himself. Sometimes you coupled it with reassurance, telling him that whatever the issue was, he’d figure it out, and he would relish the way your hand felt against his back.

Sitting Close, Knees Touching: It reminded you of when you first started dating—the timid amount of pressure he’d apply when his leg was next to yours. If he had been feeling especially bold, he’d reach out and rest his hand on your knee. Those days were so long ago now, but you still smiled when you thought about them. But these days, that was how the two of you usually ended up when you were gaming together. You’d be sitting on the very edge of the couch, legs pressed against each other as you fought the urge to push each other off the sofa. It was a position that was almost always coupled with laughter and good-natured goading as you tried to mess each other up.

Braiding Hair: Nestor’s braids were, obviously, near and dear to him. You never offered to do them because you understood that he was very particular with them and you respected that. However, when his arm got busted up after things got rough on the job, and he couldn’t really move it for a few weeks, he had almost no choice but to ask you to take a crack at it. You were nervous, but probably not as nervous as he was. You took your time, wanting to get it just right. It was relaxing for him to just be doted on, but when he saw that you could actually do the braids well, it was a whole new sense of relief for him.

Piggy-Back Rides: Another thing that was born out of injuries. You messed up your ankle while you were trying to take care of things in the back yard, and for whatever reason instead of lifting you up the way that he usually did, he opted to give you a piggy-back ride instead. You had been in so much pain at the time that you just agreed, not caring how you got from Point A to Point B. But once the moment and the pain had passed, you reflected back on it and brought it up. Truthfully, he’d been flustered and for whatever reason that was the automatic thing that his brain told him to do.

Sitting on the Other’s Lap: He loved when you curled up in his lap. Even if you weren’t engaging in the same activity, he liked having you so close to him. You’d do it a lot while you were reading, book extremely close to your face as you got lost in the story, while he would work his way through another episode of his favorite show, every now and then looking to see what emotion the book was eliciting from you.

Feeling Their Temperature: Nestor “It’s Just Allergies” Oceteva. He never wants to admit when he’s sick, claiming that he doesn’t have the time to be sick. But one morning you woke up and rolled to look at him, and he looked like death warmed over. You knew that the cold he’d been ignoring had finally gotten the better of him. You reached forward, placing the back of your hand against his forehead and you silently shook your head as you got up and started to pull some things together to hopefully help him start to feel better. He took the tea from you begrudgingly when he woke up, “I’m not even that sick—I don’t need all this.” You nodded, “Sure you don’t,” you laid a damp cloth across his forehead.

Linking Arms with Each Other: Your favorite way to drag him to something that he didn’t want to do. If you saw a store that you wanted to go into but you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled around, you would immediately loop your arm through his and make your way towards the door, knowing that he wouldn’t want to put up enough of a fight to stop you. You’d laugh at your very small victory, and sometimes just to throw you off your rhythm he’d loop his arm a little tighter to throw you off-balance, just enough to make you lean on him, making you both laugh.

Touching Their Elbow to Get Their Attention: While Nestor would place his hand on your waist or the small of your back while you were at home together to get your attention, any time you were in public he made an intentional point to always touch your elbow to get your attention. He’d heard you rant before about how much it bothered you and made you uncomfortable when men you didn’t know would try and get your attention or ask you to move by touching your lower back, and ever since then he tried to lead by example. So if you came with him to work functions or anything of the sort, he always made sure to tap your elbow or shoulder to get your attention, and any time he saw someone else not following suit, his gaze very quickly corrected them.

Dancing with Each Other: Nestor wasn’t a dancer by any stretch of the imagination. But sometimes he’d get home late, or come out from the shower, and you’d be dancing in the kitchen while you cleaned, or while you waited for whatever you were baking in the oven to finish, and it was hard to not get swept up by you. You’d reach out and take his hands in yours and he just couldn’t tell you no. He’d twirl you around and spin you so you were pressed flush against him. Dancing always led to smiles and soft laughs as the two of you traipsed around your little kitchen together, making the most of it all.

Holding Onto the Other’s Shoulders For Support: “Lean on me,” you looped your arm around Nestor’s middle back as he slowly got out of the car. “I’m not gonna le—” You didn’t let him finish the sentence, “Just do it! You don’t get to argue with me while you’re bleeding.” He huffed and grumbled under his breath in protest but he rested his hand on your shoulder, gripping it slightly as he leaned onto you for support. It was a short walk from your car to the emergency room, but you could tell that every step of the way he hated the fact that you were holding him up. You shook your head slightly at him as he limped along, his fingers pressing firmly into the soft skin of your shoulder.

Putting a Hand Over the Other’s Mouth to Shut Them Up: Always done in jest. He liked to do it to you when you were beating him in a debate, and you did it to him when he was giving you valid reasons not to worry about something that you were stressing about. The only difference was when he would do it to you, you’d lick his hand and he would instantly release you. It always amused you, because out of everything that had ever happened to him, that was where he drew the line. When you did it to him, though, he would just stop talking and look at you with raised eyebrows, and even though you couldn’t see his mouth you knew that he had a smug grin on his face because you knew that he was right.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #50 types of touch #fanfiction #my writing #drabblesmc

182 notes · View notes

midnightmoonkiss · 4 years

Text

All For You.

Villain! Midoriya Izuku X Reader

Summary: You didn’t ask for this, and yet he gave you the same sick gift again and again. You hated him.

WARNINGS!: blood, death mentioned, dark themes

Category: Angst

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist

A/N: Was listening to “If I killed Someone For You” and.. I think it fits Villain Deku perfectly.

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

Izuku has OFA

He is not necessarily a yandere

You live alone for a reason

Frigid water poured steadily from the faucet as he rinsed his pale hands, turning the water crimson as it washed down the rusted drain of the medical sink.

The room was dark, the only light being a flickering candle that dripped white wax onto the concrete floor below.

The handle creaked as he turned off the water, a soft sigh slipping past his chapped lips.

Stray droplets broke the silence of the room.

It would have driven anyone else insane.

Dull green eyes stared into a mirror, the dirty surface reflecting his disheveled appearance.

Blood stained his clothes, smudging against his freckled cheek.

His green hair was a mess, once slicked back with gel now all over the place from his habit of running his fingers through his hair when frustrated.

It certainly wasn’t the look he was going for.

Two knocks sounded on the other side of the metal door closing the room off, the noise echoing in the nearly empty room.

Inhaling deeply, the man fixed his hair up with wet digits best he could, only after he finished did he notice his forest green tie had splotches of blood on it as well.

He giggled to himself as he fixed it, tightening it up to his neck.

It looked festive.

Turning around on his black leather heels, he looked over at the bloodied corpse tied up in the corner, all life completely drained from its opened, bloodshot eyes that were once filled with curiosity.

“You know…”

He whispered to it,

“If you hadn’t been so cruel to my beloved, you wouldn’t look so fucking disgusting right now.”

His dress shoes clicked against the floor as he made his way to the large door, knocking thrice in a particular pattern.

It unlocked with a loud clink, and he was out of the room that once held two very alive people.

He didn't like soiling his clothes or getting his hands dirty, but whenever it came to you, he was willing to do anything.

Midoriya Izuku was a dangerous man, and he wasn’t afraid to bare his teeth and leave a lifeless body behind him.

He’d done it before, he’d do it again.

Though he was exhausted, he didn’t let it show. The dark circles under his eyes have been there since he was a child, they didn’t give away how he felt anymore.

“I’ll be heading out.”

He stated, voice low and challenging, daring any of his subordinates to object.

“It’s raining…” One brave soul spoke up from the back,

“I know.” He could smell the asphalt from here, as well as hear the thumping of raindrops on the metal roof five floors above the basement they were currently in.

He took his time climbing up the metal stairs, pulling his black leather glove from the pockets on his slacks and slipping them on.

They prevented fingerprints, and they were quite warm.

The rain was unexpected, leaving you completely soaked all the way down to your shoes as you fumbled with your keys.

You just wanted to get inside, undress, relax in a bath, and go the fuck to sleep.

Today was far more stressful than it had to be, considering your bitch of a boss decided to skip work today without telling anyone - leaving you in charge during the most hectic time of the month.

You were freezing and both mentally and physically exhausted, and what was pissing you off even more was how this was the third time you dropped your damn keys.

Your fingers were numb as you shivered, hard to grip the slippery keys.

You felt like crying victoriously when you finally got the door unlocked.

Slipping your dirty heels and soaked pantyhose off, you dragged your feet through the house, making your way to your room without the use of a light switch. You were too tired to fumble around for it.

Inside your room, you shrugged off your coat and unbutton your white blouse, making your way to your dresser for a fresh pair of clothes.

It was a Saturday, and knowing you had the day off tomorrow was like a sweet kiss.

“(Y/N)..”

You froze, body no longer shaking just from the cold.

That voice.. It haunted you.

Once so sweet and kind.. now all you could associate it with was the stench of gunpowder and the coolness of a blade.

You could see his silhouette in the mirror, his tall, dark figure beside the window you hadn't noticed was opened.

Bile burned your throat, you didn’t want to be near this man ever again.

You were foolish to think you had escaped his reach.

“I’ve missed you..” He drawled, sincerity threading itself through his words as he took a step towards you.

“Really?” You huffed, “I don’t miss you at all.”

“I know you do,”

He was behind you before you could blink, the frightening sparks of his quirk sending chills down your spine as they lit the room in a green glow for just a moment.

You were trapped against the dresser, one hand pressed against the mahogany wood, and the other slithering dangerously around your throat like a snake that could strangle you at any moment.

You gulped, breath stuttering as you fought to stay calm.

His chest was pressed to your back, his figure towering over you.

He always made you feel so small and helpless.

“You reek of blood..” The scent burned your nostrils.

Soaked green locks brushed against your cheek as he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your perfume that drove him crazy.

He had purchased the same scent a while ago, his sheets were covered in it. He could never get enough

“And you smell delicious, my love.”

“Don't call me that-!” You spat through your teeth, venom in your voice only making him smile against your clammy flesh.

You reminded him of an angry mouse.

“And why’s that?” His voice was always so deep and dripping with authority.

His thumb and forefinger gripped your chin, pulling your face to the side so that he could look into your mesmerizing (E/C) eyes.

They were like a drug to him, heroin that he shot into his veins every time he had the pleasure of looking into them.

Even if all they held was fear and disgust, they were still so beautiful to him.

You didn’t answer.

He sighed.

Looking down, you noticed the red blood on his collar, the sight making you gag.

He no doubt had more on his person, and yet he was pressed against you.

You wanted to throw up.

“Who was it.”

The question hung in the air, and he found himself not wanting to answer it.

“Midoriya, who was it.” Your voice shook, tears blurring your vision at the thought of him torturing another person because of you.

You tried so hard to keep away from people.

You cut contacts with all of your friends and moved cities to keep them safe - hell, you hadn’t even dated after what had happened with your last lover.

He ruined everything.

He stalked you like a predator, and you clearly had nowhere to run and hide.

You would forever be caged like a pet, and your own pathetic attempts to fight back only ever made him smile even wider.

That smile used to bring butterflies to your stomach, and now it just made you nauseous.

To him, it was a game.

The game of seeing how long until you break and give into him.

He’d let you run ‘free,’ act as though you can fight against him.

He adored that spirit of yours, but he knew that it would break some day.

He couldn’t wait.

You’ll be completely his one day, not that you weren’t already.

Looking into his eyes, you somehow knew who it was.

Shame burned your veins.

Your boss..

Even if he was cruel to you, he had a family.

“Don’t cry, (Y/N)..” Izuku whispered, fingers falling from your chin to brush away your onslaught of tears, “I hate it when you cry..”

“You always make me cry, Izuku!” Sobbing out loud, you fought to get away from him, though it was useless you couldn't help yourself from trying.

“I hate you-! Mph!”

Your outburst was silenced by his fingers, two digits knuckle deep in your mouth.

You choked around them, cringing at the taste of leather.

Sniffling, you breathed loudly through your snotty nose, tears stinging your cheeks.

“I don’t like it when you talk like that..” He muttered darkly, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

You were afraid of him.

You always were.

It was like there was an invisible knife pressed against your neck, slicing into your skin and daring you to try and speak again.

His forehead fell to your nape, and you stood there in silence for a while, the pitter patter of rain doing next to nothing to soothe your nerves.

It felt like time had stopped in the silence, like you were waiting for your own death.

“You’re soaked..” He commented, pulling away, saliva dripping down your chin as he finally pulled his fingers from your mouth.

“No..”

That made him chuckle, the sound making your skin prickle.

“You were going to take a bath, right?”

Despite being a murderous villain, Izuku still treated you with an ounce of respect, never once looking down at your exposed chest despite a large mirror allowing him to do so.

You hated how he was a gentleman despite everything he’s done and will continue to do.

“You should get out of these clothes.. You’re going to catch a cold.”

And you hated how he fretted over you.

You hated everything about him.

The faint sound of sirens pierced the atmosphere, not too far away but getting louder and louder every second.

“I suppose I better take my leave, my love,”

“Don’t call me that..” You repeated meekly under your weak breath,

“I’ll see you again soon..” He turned around, pausing for a brief second, “but you won’t see me.”

He somehow always made your skin crawl without even having to touch you.

Biting your lip, you whipped around, ready to scream at him, only to see nothing.

He had already left.

And yet..

You knew he was never really gone.

You wished you never met him.

#deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #villain deku x reader #villain deku #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #deku x you #deku #izuku x reader #izuku #izuku midoriya #bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #x reader

371 notes · View notes

babbushka · 3 years

Text

The Rabbi Is Coming

Flip Zimmerman x Reader (Darling Jewish Wife AU)

A/N: This oneshot is based entirely off of one of my favorite videos of all time, Company is Coming by Chris Fleming. Every time I see it, it reminds me of preparing for my own family holiday gatherings, so I’ve taken it and run with it lol. I just wanted to write something short and silly for Passover, lol, and I hope you enjoy!

Also inspired by this prompt sent in by anonymous: From your Passover prompts, will you please do this one for Flip? It sounds just like him!“They tried to kill us. We survived. Let’s eat.”

2k, crack treated seriously lol, humor. Putting a small cw for the Zimmerman’s son, in case folks don’t like reading about kids (this is the last time he’s mentioned for a while I promise lol)

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

Early in the morning, just after sunrise, Flip yawns and stretches awake. The golden light of morning shines through the curtains that gently move from the breeze of the ceiling fan, and a melody of chirping birds signal the official start of morning. Despite having to get up early for work every day, Flip isn’t much of a morning person. But something about Springtime and the warmth that’s on the way makes him appreciate getting up, even on the weekends.

“Good morning, sunshine, light of my life – ” Flip rolls over onto his side, ready to coax you out of your sleep as well, ready to kiss you and start the day together, but when he reaches you’re your sleep-snuggled body, he finds the bed empty, and frowns.

Sitting up, he looks around the bedroom. Your side of the covers are neatly made, and Flip can only blink, his frown deepening. He clears his throat, raspy from disuse overnight, “(Y/N)?”

It isn’t until he hears the vacuum cleaner going downstairs, followed by a frustrated groan echoing through the house, that he remembers just what day it is, and falls back onto his pillow with a wince, lighting up a cigarette and scrubbing a hand over his face with a low,

“…Oh shit.”

He checks the clock, sees that it’s practically seven o’clock, and gets out of bed. Pulling on a casual t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans, he leaves his room to see his son standing tentatively in his own doorway, as loud sounds come from downstairs.

“Pop?” The five year old asks with no small amount of hesitation in his voice, immediately reaches for Flip, who scoops him up and balances him on his hip.

“Mornin’ honey.” Flip kisses his son’s cheek, and the boy giggles, clinging to him as Flip walks down the stairs.

He’s obviously annoyed that it’s not you who gets to wake him up and carry him downstairs, as he normally prefers, but Flip doesn’t know how to tell him that today isn’t a normal day. Still, the boy is always filled with questions, and his little eyebrows furrow into an all too familiar frown as they move closer to the chaos that is you deciding to vacuum first thing in the morning.

“Why is Mama acting like that?” He demands to know, as the two of them stop at the landing, watching as you, still in your pajamas, are fighting with furniture.

“Tonight’s the first night of Pesach.” Flip explains.

“So?” His son challenges, and Flip wants to laugh, because he agrees with the kid, but when you get into a mood like this, there’s no stopping you.

“So, there’s a very special guest coming for dinner tonight, and she wants to make sure the house looks nice and clean for him.” Flip sets the boy down, and he purses his lips, like he’s trying to assess the validity of that, eventually settling on complaining,

“But we already cleaned the house.”

Flip sighs, because he’s right, you spent the entire week cleaning to prepare for Passover. It wasn’t like a normal house cleaning, Passover had special rules that had to be obeyed. One of which, was the complete and total elimination of chametz, or food made from leavened dough. The other, was the koshering of the kitchen.

But he wasn’t so sure his five year old would care to hear about all that this early.

“I know son. Let’s go see what she fixed up for breakfast,” Flip leads his son through the living room carefully, before crouching down to his level and saying very seriously, “And then when you’re done eating, just do whatever Mama says, you hear me? Whatever she says.”

Just then, you come barreling through the living room with the vacuum and a tangle of cord in your hand, shouting at a completely inappropriate volume for the hour, “Zeeskiet if you haven’t made your bed just throw it away it’s too late to make it now!”

The boy looks up at Flip, and Flip immediately shakes his head and amends, “Not that.”

Flip is a good helper. He likes to help, and he wants to help, but sometimes when you get like this, it’s a danger to himself and everyone around for him to try and insert himself into a situation where you are a hurricane of anxious energy. He busies himself with getting your son settled at the kitchen table, giving him a big breakfast of fresh fruit, nuts, and yogurt, before bracing himself to venture back towards the dining room.

“The Rabbi is coming – get rid of the couches we can’t let people know we sit!” You shout, pointing an aggressive finger at one of the dining chairs, “This chair needs to be pushed in, there cannot be any signs of living in this house.”

Flip is quick to do as you say, even though what you’re saying is nonsense – he knows better than to point that out.

“I don’t care if we have to throw everything out,” You’re mostly talking to yourself at this point, just…loudly, and aggressively, “I want this place looking like a contemporary fusion restaurant by noon.”

It was a miracle and a half that the Rabbi agreed to lead your Seder dinner, and to say that the pressure was getting to you was the understatement of the century. You had everything picked out, what you were going to wear, what Flip and the kids were going to wear; you’d been cooking and prepping all week, and now the day was finally here and you were totally freaking out.

“Flip?” You shout, walking in circles around the dining room, trying to get rid of any possible point of contamination of chametz.

“Yeah?” Flip replies, already knowing that because he’s in the other room, you probably can’t hear him. He already is walking towards you when he hears you again.

“Phil!” You call a little sharper, and Flip huffs out a laugh, his suspicion correct.

“I’m right here ketsl, what can I do?” Flip startles you by suddenly being behind directly behind you, and you throw your hands up in exasperation.

“Oh my god – we need more pillows.” You gesture to the den where the conversation pit is decked out entirely with pillows. “Can you fluff the pillows? I need these things looking fluffed.”

Flip does exactly as he’s told, and the rest of the morning follows suit.

You wandered around the house cleaning; vacuuming sweeping dusting sanitizing every possible surface, the floors, even the ceiling, shouting out random demands and requests like:

We need more flowers. We gotta put flowers in every window. Philly can you put flowers in the kitchen?

We can’t have any clothes! Everyone take off your clothes!

At that, your son cast a semi-distressed look to Flip and asked, an uncertain, “Pop?”

“Not that either!” Flip immediately answered, lest his son think it’s okay to go running around in the nude tonight.

Somewhere around hour two, your mood shifts from manic to meltdown. Your son had been instructed to make sure his toys were all nicely put away in his room, mostly to keep him out of trouble or to prevent any accidental tripping over wires. Flip though, is still running around trying to keep up with you, out of breath from your own chaos.

“What is this?” You yank the perfectly good little towel out of the oven door handle where Flip had just watched you place it, and near-tears, you groan, “This is a dish towel! We need a hand towel! What are we, barbarians?”

He’s about to say something, try to console you or at the very least calm you down, but then you come to a complete and sudden stand-still and point out, “Phil oh god there’s muffins on the counter.”

Frowning, Flip whirled around and wondered how the fuck those even got there. All of your friends knew that there was absolutely no leavened product allowed in the house, Rabbi or no, and he’s trying to wrack his brain around where they came from as you back against the wall.

“Oh my god oh – that’s it -- we have to go into the witness protection program folks!” You chuckle humorously, effectively giving up. “Shalom Rabbi! Welcome to the Zimmerman household. We live outside. We eat mud. And sticks.”

At this, you give one big overwhelmed sigh, and a little sob hiccups out of your chest.

“Hey,” Flip frowns, kicking himself for not trying to get you to take a breather earlier than this, “Hey it’s going to be okay.”

Flip gets down on the floor with you, and pulls you into a tight hug. You shove your face under his neck and cry it out, and Flip soothes your back. He knows how big of a deal tonight is for you, and he wants to do everything he can to make you happy, but letting this go on any longer won’t be good for anyone.

“I’ll get rid of the muffins, we won’t tell anyone about it, okay?” He pulls you to face him, your eyes wet and wide, your chin wobbling. He thinks you’re so ridiculous, working yourself up like this, but he loves you so much to see it regardless.

“Did you fluff the pillows?” You ask in a small sad voice, and Flip nods seriously, brushing some of your stray locks that escaped the scarf you have wrapped around your head to protect your hair, away from your face.

“Yes ketsl, I fluffed the pillows.” He kisses each of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, your forehead.

“Okay, alright okay, everyone calm down.” You say, wiping your tears away and taking deep measured breaths, suddenly asking, “What time is it?”

“Uhh,” Flip cranes his head around to try and catch a good glimpse at the clock on the wall, wondering how the hell it’s only, “Nine-thirty.”

You blink, and blink again, and then shuffle to sit upright there on the kitchen floor.

“Oh.” You reply, pursing your lips and scratching the side of your jaw. “In that case…I’m going to take a nap.”

Flip chuckles and lets you go. You’re too much all the time, and that’s exactly why he loves you. He’s never met anyone who cares as much about something like this, than you, and he wants you to go relax while he takes care of everything.

And he does, his son a proper helper as you snooze in bed, already having worked yourself to exhaustion and needing your strength back for the long dinner that’s going to come. The offending muffins are given to a neighbor, the surfaces re-sanitized, the kitchen all prepared. Your son even sets the table all by himself, enjoying being tall for his age thanks to Flip’s genetics.

When evening falls much later, and all your other guests have arrived, you feel your pulse spike as the doorbell rings. You’re dressed to the nines, as is everyone else, but Flip thinks that you’re the most radiant thing in the universe. You’re holding your son on your hip as Flip opens the door, already extending a hand for him to shake.

“Shalom Rabbi, thank you so much for joining us tonight, we can’t tell you how much of an honor it is.” You beam, as if you hadn’t had a total breakdown only that morning, as Flip invites the Rabbi inside.

“Of course Mr. and Mrs. Zimmerman, the honor is mine. And may I say, you have a beautiful home.” He looks around appreciatively, giving a nod of approval that has all the air rushing out of your lungs.

“I’m thrilled to hear you think so.” You grin, leading him through your home and into the dining room where your other guests have been happily entertaining themselves, “Shall we get started then?”

“They tried to kill us, we survived, let’s eat!” Flip announces, and that has everyone laughing, including the Rabbi.

And as the Seder commences, Flip looks across the table and gives his son a wink. In return, he lets out a small giggling laugh, glad that all the preparations and chaos you put them through have successfully paid off.

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

Taggin’ some Flip lovin’ friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @bxnnywriting @groovetoob

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman fanfic #adam driver fanfic #adcu #passover #my writing #jewish!reader #flip zimmerman fluff #idk how to tag this lol

117 notes · View notes

stressedoutcanary · 3 years

Text

Hold On - Jason Todd x Batgirl!Reader [PART 3]

What this includes: Violence, a combo of angst and fluff, and just to be on the safe side I’d say language.

Word count: 3.1k

A/N😋: I am so glad it’s finally finished, now it won’t be sitting in my drafts staring at me all day. Also forgive me for any mistakes, half of it is written at 3 AM

Part 1 , Part 2

•°•°•°•°

“This is it”, you breathed out, stopping your bike near a bush making sure that place was obscure enough. You placed the helmet on the handle and hopped off the bike. After taking a few steps forward and scouting the area, you clicked your comms back on.

“O care to give me the layout of what I am getting myself into, ‘cause we all know the last time didn’t go so well”

“Nightwing said you might call me for backup and now I owe him 20 uggh! Anyways onto the problem at hand, I’m picking up a few heat signatures from the basement area and the schematics of the building indicate a vent on the other side which might help you get in.”

“Is there anything else I should know?”

There was no reply on the other end and you assumed she was looking into it. To your bad luck, it was far from it. You heard an all too familiar grunt and mentally cursed yourself for forgetting that it was an open line.

“(Y/N), I thought I made myself clear”, Bruce’s modulated voice came through which low-key made you want to strangle him with your bare hands.

“Oh come on B! Didn’t Alfred teach you that listening in on other people’s conversations is bad manners”

“We are 10 minutes out you will not be going in till we get there”

‘Like Hell I won’t’

“Hello? B? Your voice is breaking up. I can’t hear you! there is some interference in the signal. Batman?”

“Don’t- ” you clicked the comms off before he could finish his sentence and breathed a sigh of relief. ”Note to self after what you just did, avoid showing your face to anyone in the fam for at least a week.”

Snooping around, you came across the vent Babs told you about and you smirked to yourself, “Bless those idiots who decided to make an excess amount of vents throughout Gotham, plus no dumbass to shoot open the lock on any door, huh I’d say it’s going pretty good for me.”

After going through a very, very dusty vent, you silently dropped down to floor behind a goon and cleared your throat to draw his attention. As soon as he turned around, his jaw was met with your right hook, making him plummet to the ground. Grabbing him by the collar you inched closer to his face, which was yet again fully covered by a white mask.

“Alright no-face, tell me where Pyg is right now”, you made use of your deep modulated voice, making the man dart his eyes towards the far right corner of the room. You knew what that meant and without wasting any more time, you knocked him out and scurried over, finding a heavy door at the end. Somehow managing to push open the door, you were faced with a circular stairwell leading down.

“Well Oracle did say she got heat signatures down in the basement.”, you sighed and started taking calculated steps, making sure to check for any traps. ‘Why keep only one person to guard your supersecret creep-house? Either Lazlo is way too overconfident or way too crazy... Probably both.’, you thought, wheels turning in your head, hoping to make sense of the situation. As you went down, you could catch a faint sound of music. ‘Is that Opera?! Well at least it fits his M.O.’

The end of the stairwell opened into a large room. You hid behind one of wooden crates as your mind swiftly accessed the grim ambience; Pyg was sharpening his knife swaying along with opera music playing in the background but Jason was nowhere to be found. Your breath hitched and your blood ran cold, it felt as if the world around you was spinning.

‘What if... what if it’s too late’ Crouching down on the ground with your back to the crate your took in several deep breaths to calm your racing heart. You couldn’t think like that, not when you’re so close. You wiped the stray tear which escaped the tightness of your cowl and had trailed down your cheek. You tried to focus instead of jumping to conclusions.

You frowned upon noticing something odd on the wall in front of you, placing your palms on it, you gave it a slight push. To your surprise it paved way for an attached corridor which clearly didn’t come up in the schematics Oracle told you about. You slipped into the corridor, making sure that nobody saw you. Your feet froze for a slight second on the sight you were met with; cages like prison cells lined up in a row with people inside of them.

“The people who went missing”, you whispered to yourself, still reeling in the shock of it all. Upon hearing a familiar groan you sprinted across the pathway to the source, eyes scanning every inch of the person you found, the person you were here to rescue. You fumbled with the lock for a while, muttering curses under your breath until it clicked open. You dashed to his side and took a batarang out to cut the binds he was in.

“Jay if you die on me again, I swear I will kill you.”

“Been there, done that princess and honestly not a fan of it”, Jason croaked out, his reply came out weaker and voice barely above a whisper. It made your heart clench in a way it hasn’t in a long, long time. You lifted your head up, you gave him a soft smile, gently brushing off the matted hair on his forehead,

“Jason I..”

‘Just tell him you love him you coward, It’s really not that hard’

“Jason I’m glad you’re okay”, you blurted out in way which was far from normal but he seemed way too tired to noticed.

‘COWARD’

“How did you get free?”, he inquired, thankfully interrupting your internal yelling.

“I didn’t? I literally just walked in here to get you out.”

“But I thought-”, Jason looked utterly confused as he rubbed his wrists to ease the pain caused by the rope.

“Well long story short. You got captured. I was saved by Harley and Ivy, had a nice chat with them, and then I might have been responsible for Batman’s high blood pressure, and then I emotionally blackmailed Nightwing into giving me your location and then here I am”

“Wha...Yeah I will just pretend I totally understand whatever the hell you just said.”, Jason sighed, he tried to stand up but his feet wobbled and if it wasn’t for you catching him on time h would’ve staggered to the ground.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mmhmm”, he hummed lightly leaning his weight on you. “Just a little dizzy, probably from the dehydration, It could also be because of the blood loss from the stab wound I got”

“The WHAT?!”, you looked at him like he was crazy.

“Oh yeah I think I kinda forgot to tell you that the creepy dude tried to cut me open but my armor got in the way so he stabbed me instead and went away saying he had to sharpen his knife or something like that”, he started to slur and you knew you had to get him back to the cave as quickly as possible. You helped him get up on his feet, slinging one of his arms over your shoulders and wrapping one of your arms around his waist.

“Oh my God! Jay, you don’t just bring this sort of thing up in casual conversation!”, you shook your head and started taking small steps with him towards the way you came from. Suddenly a loud crash was heard followed by a couple of screams making the both of you share a nervous glance.

“What was that?”

“Only one way to find out”, you said as you walked through the door back into the large room.

It was pure chaos, more like a free-for-all. Nightwing jogged up to you.

“We did say we were 10 minutes out didn’t we?”, he gave you a bright smile and swung Jason’s free arm over his shoulder to help you support him better.

“Good, now since you are here, hold him”, you shifted Jason’s weight towards Dick.

“Hey-”

“Don’t even”, he glared daggers at his elder brother, “What are you even doing? I feel like a baby being passed around”

You ignored Jason’s whining in the background and fixed your gaze on the one person in the room who would soon face your wrath. The rest had already cleared up the goons and Pyg was the only one left. You narrowed your eyes and cracked your knuckles, making your way over to him.

By the time you reached Pyg he was already backing away from Batman and one murderous looking Robin, turning around he tried to make a run for it but was ultimately met with your fist, a sickening crack was heard and no one was quite sure whether it was from his mask, his jaw or both. Pyg was out cold and you shrugged at the duo in front of you while Dick and Jason made their way over.

“Remind me never to get on her bad side ever again.”, Jason whispered as both the boys looked completely terrified of you. You walked over to Bruce and held out your hand. He didn’t seem to catch the drift, for being the world’s greatest detective, he was quite dumb sometimes.

“The keys to the batmobile, unless you want Mr. surprise-I-got-stabbed over here to bleed out.”

After placing Jason into the passenger seat you hopped into the driving one.

“Also there are people in the back, you know, the missing ones, so good luck with the clean up I guess.”, you called out before before closing the hood of the batmobile.

You were on the road heading straight for the cave when you realized Jason wasn’t answering your questions anymore.

“Jason?”, you stole a glance at him and he was as pale as a ghost, “Shit!”, you yelled as you jammed your foot on the accelerator.

•°•°

Jason woke up to the dull beeping of multiple monitors and by the looks of the place, he concluded he was in fact in the batcave. As he regained some control over his senses, he saw you sitting on a chair beside his bed. You were sound asleep but he could see worry etched on your face even in your slumber. Looking at you, Jason wished he had the courage to say what his heart felt instead he just went ahead taking your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. You stirred awake at that.

“Hey! You’re up!”, you stood up abruptly and hugged him tightly. To him it felt as if you were actually afraid of what might happen if you let go of him.

“I told you I don’t do dying anymore. It sucks.”

You finally pulled away from him, a smile tugging at your lips. Jason glanced at your hand, taking it in his once again, he ran his thumb over your bruised knuckles.

“I knew you had a mean right hook, guess I just forgot how mean”, Jason said smirking at you. You didn’t pull away from him as he had expected in his head instead you just scoffed at the statement.

“The next time you forget that, allow me to give you a reminder by demonstration Bird-Brain”, you called him by the name you often used back then. At first it was to annoy your very annoying best friend but then it stuck around but hadn’t used that nickname ever since he came back. You both realized that. A silence fell over the once playful conversation, his eyes found the celling and yours found your lap. After a while you cleared you throat to get his attention and he looked at you, his expressions were borderline unreadable.

“Jason I-I should go now, but don't worry I’ll get Alfred back here”, You got up and moved towards the door of the med-bay, scrunching your eyes shut you released a shaky breath.

‘It’s now or never (Y/N)’

“Jason when you get better, there is this place I have been meaning to take you to, with me of course.”

“Sure I’ll go”

“So tomorrow sounds good?”

“Tomorrow sounds good”, he repeated after you breaking into a grin. Your cheeks flushed and you had to take a sharp turn to hide the blush on your face. You mentally smacked yourself for behaving like a teen asking her crush out on a date for the first time.

•°•°

The next night Jason met you on the roof of the Wayne tower.

“Please tell me this isn’t the place you wanted to see with me”, he chuckled behind you and you turned around to give him a quick hug.

“It’s not that bad of a place, plus I can throw you off here too if you get on my nerves”, you laughed at his faux scandalised face.

“You wound me”

“In case you forgot you are already wounded, drama queen, plus its your lucky day, this is not where we will be spending our evening. Just follow me and don’t get lost on the way”, you winked and jumped off the edge, him following the suit.

When you both reached the place you had in mind, the place Jason cherished when he was Robin, the expression on his face was priceless. It was like a mixture of awe and surprise with a hint of sadness.

“How did you find out about this?”, Jason inquired after a while of reminiscing.

“Gee how indeed, ‘cause it cannot be the fact that I am detective who’s life is influenced by at least a dozen detectives and it’s most definitely not the fact that for me, you aren’t that difficult to figure out”

“Touché”

Jason chuckled at your usual playful sarcasm, his eyes were twinkling with something which felt more than just momental adoration and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile of your own. You made your way over to him, looking at the visible skyline for a brief moment, Jason watched as you sat down on the ledge with your legs dangling off, patting the space beside you gestured him to join you.

“I have a feeling we’re gonna be here for a while, so might as well sit down and get comfortable”, you shrugged as he nodded and sat down beside you, placing his elbow on his bent knee. You both enjoyed the few minutes of comfortable silence, watching cars pass by below and the moon lit starry sky above.

“I am starting to see why you liked it here”

“Yeah...”

“Alfred told me”

“Huh?”, Jason looked at you dumbfounded, trying to process your words.

“After you...were gone, Alfred told me, he told me that this was your happy place, though I still can’t believe you had a favorite gargoyle”, stifling a laugh you somehow managed to continue, “Anyway so as I saying, ever since I found out about it, I used to come here every night when I got free from patrol, come to think of it I still do, sometimes”

You could feel his heavy gaze boring into you making you immediately regret bringing up this conversation.

“Why?”, he finally inquired. You didn’t know whether to feel relived or be tense, but it was now or never, releasing a shallow breath you glanced at him, words flowing out on their own accord.

“Even back then I knew everyone dies at some point and all we can do is try and find some meaning in it, in the memories they leave behind and I guess me wanting to be here, it was a part of me trying to do that and it made me feel somewhat connected to you so I kept doing it; Coming here, spending any time I could spare and leaving before the crack of dawn and before I knew it, it had become a habit.”

“So you did miss me”, he gave you a sad smile and wrapped his hand around your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze.

“Of course I did you dumbass, I was best friend.”, you gave him a nudge and leaned your cheek on his chest, sighing deeply.

“The reason I avoided you after you came back was because I was scared”, you whispered, hoping it would sound less real that way. Jason pulled back a bit to take in your features and you could hear the strain in his voice, a hint of sadness in it.

“Scared of me?”

“Jason I wasn’t scared of you, I can never be, I was scared for you. I was afraid of losing you again. Every time you come back I lose you all over again and I am honestly tired of it and I thought that maybe if I kept my distance I--”

“Won’t get hurt again?”

“Yeah, something like that”

A moment passed where no one spoke anything, both of you running the scenarios of what might happen next in your brains. An idea clicked in your head and you abruptly got to your feet startling Jason in the process. Offering him your hand and a sheepish smile, you got him to his feet.

“I am tired of being scared Jason. I want this. I want us and for that I am willing to take a chance, are you?”, he stepped closer to you, his scent invading your senses.

“For you (Y/N), anything. You should know that by now, plus I feel the same way, I have for a while now”, Jason breathed out as he pulled you in for a deep kiss leaving you dizzy for a while after you pulled away for air. Placing your foreheads together, you found yourselves grinning like idiots yet again in the two successive nights. Jason’s stomach growled, sending you into a fit of laughter.

“Hungry?”

“You really gotta ask?”, raising an eyebrow, he tried to look offended but ultimately melted against you as you pressed your lips on his for a brief moment.

“I know a place”, you murmured, lips brushing against his and before he could register what was happening you already had a grapnel gun in your hands, smirking as you jumped off the ledge.

“Last one there is a rotten egg hoodie!!”

“Hey! But I don’t even know where it is!”

“Not my fault Bird-Brain!”

Jason jumped on after you, smiling to himself. Both of you were thinking the same thing ‘maybe this was finally the start of a new chapter; something new, something scary and something beautiful altogether’

°•°•°•°•

Tags: @ladyperceval

112 notes · View notes

iamtrebleclefstories · 3 years

Text

that same kind of joy

98 - “You scared the shit out of me.”

Now, I wasn’t really sure how I felt about this fic when I first started writing it and I had no idea where it was gonna go, but I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. It’s not exactly what you might’ve had in mind, but I hope you enjoy! @andreagraham

this takes place in a wonderful world where 16x16 never happened :)

She remembers a bang. It was loud and deafening to the point that when she comes to, there’s an incessant ringing in her ears. She wants to just lay there and sleep, but that’s probably just the mild concussion talking. Instead, she painstakingly cracks her eyes open just enough to get a good view of her surroundings.

Metal. Bright. Debris. Blood.

Blood.

It’s not her own. At least, Jo doesn’t think it belongs to her. It is a trail of blood that extends in front of her, leading in front of a woman with a swollen abdomen who is crying out in distress. Jo picks herself up from the ground long enough to realize what just happened.

She remembers getting on the train back to Seattle after a weekend medical conference in San Francisco with Carina Deluca. It had been a spur of the moment decision, something Alex had surprised her with when he presented her with a train ticket, booked hotel room, and a weekend off. She had been thrilled at the prospect of hearing Addison Montgomery speak as she considered a career switch to OB. It had been the perfect getaway, until about ten minutes ago.

Now, Jo stands in the remains of one of the train cars she’d been traveling in and looks around in horror to see multiple individuals in varying states of trauma. She quickly canvasses the area to determine who seemed okay and who looked as though they were in immediate need of assistance. After getting help from a nursing student, dental PA, and off-duty officer that happened to be riding in the same train car, Jo leaves the other passengers and makes her way over to the pregnant woman who was clearly in labor.

“Hey,” Jo crouches down in front of the woman. “My name is Jo Karev. I’m a surgeon at Grey Sloan Memorial in Seattle. I see that you’re having some contractions. Is it okay if I examine you?” Jo waits until the woman nods her consent before gently pressing her hands on the woman’s bump to determine position. “What’s your name?”

“Alyssa,” the young woman breathes out heavily. “My name is Alyssa Belmont.”

“Nice to meet you Alyssa. Can you tell me how far along you are?” Jo looks down at her watch to monitor the length and interval of the contractions.

“I'm only 35 weeks,” Alyssa’s voice betrays her anxiety. “It’s too early.”

“It’s okay, the ambulance is going to be here soon and we will be able to get you and your baby to a hospital safely where some really nice pediatrician will make sure that they’re just fine,” Jo takes the hand sanitizer from her purse and uses it to disinfect her hands and ruffles through her first aid kit to find a single pair of gloves. “Do you know what you’re having?”

“A boy,” Alyssa nods. “My fiancé is stationed overseas but is supposed to come home in two weeks. He was supposed to be here for the delivery. I’m not supposed to be doing this alone.”

“Hey, Alyssa. Listen to me. You are not alone. I’m right here with you and I promise I won’t leave your side until you are holding a healthy baby in your arms,” Jo locks eyes with the young woman in front of her. “I need to know some things if I’m going to better care for you. Did you get hurt when the train derailed? Did you feel a tearing or a sharp pain in your abdomen?”

“No,” Alyssa shakes her head. “Just the contractions. But I had already been feeling some sporadic contractions throughout the day and the past week if I’m being honest. That’s normal though, right? Like Braxton hicks?”

“Yes, it's completely normal to feel a couple contractions here and there once you’re nearing the end of your pregnancy. It’s your body trying to prepare itself for birth,” Jo takes off her jacket and drapes it over Alyssa’s lower abdomen and pelvis to maintain some semblance of modesty. “Okay Alyssa, I’m going to push up your dress and remove your leggings and underwear so that I can get a look at how much you’ve progressed.”

Prior to the surprise delivery she was pulled into a couple weeks ago where all she had to do was catch the baby, it had been a long time since Jo had delivered a baby that wasn’t a c-section. It had been years since she had to check for dilation and effacement and in that moment she found herself really wishing that Carina - who had opted to stay in San Francisco for a few days more with a friend - had been on this train instead of her.

“Okay, Alyssa. It looks like you're about eight centimeters dilated and I'd say somewhere around eighty to ninety percent effaced,” Jo informs.

“What does that mean?” Alyssa brushes her hair out of her face and winces as another contraction comes over her.

“That means that pretty soon it’ll be time to push,” Jo looks around to the surrounding passengers. “Does anyone have a clean towel or blankets in their bag? And water. I need an unopened water bottle.”

A few of the lesser injured passengers step forward after ruffling through their bags to present Jo with the items she requested, “Here are two bottles of water, one clean towel, and three blankets.”

Jo does her best to keep Alyssa comfortable and wait until the paramedics arrive. But within minutes, Alyssa is fully dilated, effaced, and ready to push. Jo looks down at Alyssa and keeps her face as calm as possible so as not to alert the young woman to the anxiety currently building up inside of her.

“Alright, Alyssa, once you feel your next contraction I need you to push. You’re going to push for ten seconds and then take a break. Do you understand?”

Alyssa grunts in response, “Yup.”

After what seems like an eternity, the train car fills with a sharp, loud cry. Jo feels some tears prickle at her eyes as she’s the first person to hold this little one as it enters the world, “Hey there, little man. You’ve got a set of lungs on you. That’s good. I was worried about your little lungs. Let’s get you cleaned up so your mama can hold you.” Jo uses the surrounding materials to clean and warm up the infant before placing him on Alyssa’s chest.

“Oh God,” Alyssa chokes out a quiet sob. “You’re here. Hi baby. I’m so sorry your daddy isn’t here but I know that he’ll be so happy to meet you.”

Jo wipes a straying tear from her eye on her arm, “I hate to intrude on the moment but we do have to cut the cord and deliver the placenta.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alyssa shakes her head. “Can I just hold him for one more second?”

“I don’t see why not,” Jo barely has time to get those words out of her mouth when paramedics come rushing through the train car. She breathes out a sigh of relief and flags one of them down. “Hi, I’m a surgeon at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital in Seattle. This woman just gave birth to a premature infant at thirty five weeks. She and the baby need to go to the hospital immediately.”

The paramedic quickly calls her partner to assist her as they make quick work of getting Alyssa out of the train and into an ambulance. Just as Jo is about to turn around and head back inside to help in any way she can, Alyssa puts her hand on Jo’s arm, “Can you come with us? Please. You said you’d be there and I really don’t want to be alone.”

Looking up at the paramedic to make sure that it’s okay to ride along, Jo squeezes Alyssa’s hand gently, “Of course.”

+++

Jo shouldn’t have been all that surprised when she feels a familiar set of arms tighten around her, bringing her close to his chest. She sighs contently as she allows her husband to hold her tenderly. She whimpers in protest when Alex pulls away to get a good look at her.

“Jo,” he breathes out in relief. “You scared the shit out of me.” Alex presses a light kiss to her forehead. “When I saw the crash on the news I almost had a heart attack. I tried calling you and the hospitals but no one was saying anything. No one knew what was going on. All we knew was that the train derailed in the middle of nowhere Oregon and some of the cars detached and got flipped on their sides. What the hell happened?”

“I delivered a baby today,” Jo huffs a laugh. “After the crash knocked me out for a few minutes, I got up and there was a woman in premature labor. Her name is Alyssa. I-I delivered her baby. I was the first person in this entire world that got to hold him. The world was literally crashing down around us, but I got to deliver this beautiful baby boy with a surprisingly well developed set of lungs for how early he was born. I’ve been with her ever since it happened. They’re moving her up to a room right now. I’m supposed to meet her up there.”

“Baby, that’s incredible. But have you gotten checked out?” Alex asks quietly. “I need to know that you’re okay.”

“I’m okay, Alex,” Jo assures him. “I have a mild concussion and a couple of bruised ribs. Nothing that some ibuprofen and rest won’t fix.” Alex scowled unconvinced, causing Jo to laugh. “I’m fine. Really. Now do you want to come with me to see them?”

“Okay, fine.”

They make their way up to Alyssa’s room and Jo introduces Alex and Alyssa to each other. They spoke softly for a few moments until Alyssa’s doctor showed up outside the room.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the doctor smiles sheepishly at the group. “But you can go ahead and see your baby Miss Belmont. I can get one of the nurses to take you up to the NICU.”

“That’s okay, we can take her,” Jo and Alex help Alyssa out of the bed and into a wheelchair, carefully bringing her to stop beside her son’s warmer. “There he is.”

Alex looks up at the monitors as he listens to a resident list off the results of the studies they’d been conducting over the past few hours, “His SATs and his APGAR look great, all things considered. He’ll probably spend a week or two here before he’s sent home. He’s a strong and resilient little guy.” Alyssa and the resident both look at him in question. “I’m a peds surgeon.”

The hours go by quickly and before anyone knows it, night has fallen. Alex nudges Jo slightly, “Hey, I think we should get going. You need some rest. I got us a hotel room for the night.”

Jo nods in agreement and goes to move when Alyssa places a hand on her shoulder, “Wait. You can’t leave without knowing what the baby’s name is. I finally decided on a name.”

“What is it?” Jo asks expectantly.

“His name is Joseph Benjamin Harold. Joey for short,” Alyssa reveals. “It’s only fitting that he be named after the person who helped bring him into this world.”

“Are you serious?” Jo’s face breaks out into a wide grin. “I-I feel honored.”

“Thank you, Jo. For everything. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Those words stick with Jo all the way back to the hotel. As they’re getting into bed that night, Jo cuddles up to Alex and sighs dreamily.

“What was that for?” Alex’s face turns up into a half smile as he glances down at his wife.

“I’m just so happy right now,” Jo shakes her head. “I know I shouldn’t be. Today was a horrible day for a lot of people. There was a tragic accident. But in the midst of all of that, I helped bring a baby into the world and I feel so much joy because of it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Alex pulls her closer. “A big part of why I love peds is because of the joy you feel every time you’re able to save a kid and give them hope for a future. And I’ve assisted on quite a few deliveries and it’s pretty incredible.”

“I think I wanna switch. I wanna make the switch to OB,” Jo exhales. “I love surgery, don’t get me wrong. And maybe one day I’ll venture into maternal-fetal surgery, but I want to be an OB, Alex. I want to deliver babies and feel that same kind of joy every single day.”

“Okay. So as soon as we get back to the hospital, we’re going to talk to Bailey and see about getting a letter of recommendation to the OB program so that you can switch specialties without repeating an intern year,” Alex rubs circles on Jo’s back.

“Are you sure? I know this is a big decision. I’ll be a resident again. I’ll have longer hours and be making resident money again,” Jo eyes widen at Alex’s simple response to her desire to make the change.

“Jo, I make plenty of money for the both of us. We’re married, we have a joint bank account. You don’t need to worry about the money. We dated throughout your entire surgical residency and everything was just fine. I want to support you however I can, and if what you want is to be a part of the vagina squad then I’m going to support you in that. I’m going to be there for you every step of the way,” Alex’s lips curve into a smirk. “Besides, I think you’ll look really hot in pink scrubs.”

“Shut up,” Jo laughs and shoves him lightly.

“What? It’s the truth. But then again, I think you look hot in everything.”

“You’re so good to me,” Jo’s eyes shine with happiness. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

#jolex #jolex fanfic #alex x jo #jo wilson #alex karev and jo wilson #jo wilson x alex karev #train crash #surprise babies #switching specialties #pink scrubs #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy fanfic #jo wilson fanfic #jo karev #grey's anatomy fanfiction #grey's anatomy au

35 notes · View notes