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procrastinatingsapphictrash · 3 years

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Can’t get over her

Word count: 5010

Genre: A little angst with a little fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: Little bit of swearing (let me know if I need to add more)

Summary: Reader has always had a bit of a crush on Natasha but it’s unrequited. She lets Tony and Wanda take her to a club and Nat starts acting differently.

A/N: This is not a request, I just felt like writing this story. I’m super nervous about this because I’m not sure if it’s very good but I thought I would post it in case anyone is interested. This is my first x reader fic and first Natasha/Marvel fic so I wasn’t sure how to write it. That being said I hope you enjoy, and if you do, I’m always open to take requests! Btw this is completely unimportant but even though this fic is a medium length, it’s the longest story I’ve actually completed so I feel proud of myself for that!

“Y/n!” A voice rang out loudly disrupting your sleep.

“Ughhhh,” you groaned, “what do you want?” Instead of an answer the door to your room gets thrown open loudly, allowing all the light to come in. You bury yourself under the blankets, partly to stop your eyes from seeing the light and partly to hide the fact that you were wearing Avengers themed pyjamas.

“Rise and shine sweetheart!” You hear Tony’s voice mock. Reluctantly you poke your head out of the blankets just enough so you can see and squint at your best friend/mentor just in time to see him rush off, probably to wake up another unfortunate avenger. When you first joined you never expected to like Tony at all, much less consider him your best friend or look up to him. You had heard rumors of him being inappropriate with women and while his jokes most certainly were and you did occasionally catch him staring at your boobs he never did anything creepy to make you uncomfortable and inside he was a good man, way more so than you expected.

All that in mind you decide to get out of bed to see why Tony woke you up because he (probably) wouldn’t wake you up for no reason. Taking a minute to change out of the avenger pyjamas and into some clothes as well as brush your hair you wander downstairs. On the way down you bump into Clint who unlike you has made absolutely no effort to look presentable and looks like he just rolled out of bed. You say a quick hello but he just grunts in return, not even looking at you. Inwardly laughing about how much Clint hates to be awake in the morning you continue downstairs to meet up with the rest of the avengers who are varying degrees of awake. Most seemed to be like you; awake and fairly alert but not happy about it. Clint was probably the most asleep and Tony the most awake considering he was practically bouncing off the walls. Looking around you see everyone except for Thor and Natasha. Thor wasn’t there very often because he wasn’t from earth and Natasha usually avoided group activities at all costs to your displeasure since you had a secret (not very secret) crush on the assassin.

“So why did you wake us up, at an ungodly hour may I add, and bring us down here?” You ask Tony, curious.

“That information is above your clearance level.” He replies somewhat sarcastically.

“Does anybody else know what is going on?” you ask. “Or did Tony wake me up for no reason, in which case I’m going back to bed.” They all shift guiltily on their feet except for Clint who seems to be still too tired to pay attention leading you to believe they are all up to something you wouldn’t like. Nobody answers your question so you glare around the room, your eyes landing on Steve. He almost squirms under your gaze and eventually seems to give in.

“I’m sorry Y/N, this wasn’t my idea and thinking back on it we probably shouldn’t-”

“We are giving you a makeover and finding you a date.” Tony cuts Steve off.

“Seriously??!??!??” You half shout. “What makes you think I want to go on some random date you guys set up? If I want to go on a date I can find one myself.”

“Y/N…” Wanda says softly, reminding you to stay calm.

“Don’t Y/n me,” you say, still angrily yet quieter, “I can find my own dates, thank you very much.” Tony gives a small snort of laughter in response to this.

“Sure you can kid. I mean it’s not like you haven’t been on a date in over two years. Or that you’re harboring a crush for our resident scary assassin that prevents you from dating others.” You glare at him but stay silent because all of what he said is true. In your head you excuse the not dating off as being busy because you are a hero yet almost everybody on the team is dating someone and it all seems to be working out fine.

“Look Y/n,” Tony says softly which is a rarity for him, “I know you wish something could happen between you and Romanoff but it hasn’t happened yet and likely never will. You need to get over her and back out there. Besides we weren’t planning on choosing your date for you, we were just planning to go clubbing later with you.”

“Ok,” you agree begrudgingly, “I’ll do it, I just don’t see the need to wake me up at 7 in the morning if we aren’t going out until tonight. Also does everybody need to be here right now?”

“I second that,” Clint says in a voice still rough from sleep, “just because I helped planning a little bit does not mean I had to wake up early to have this conversation. I’m going back to bed.”

Wanda rolls her eyes at him before turning to you, “No not everyone has to be here right now, Tony just got a little over excited. As for you, as we said we are giving you a makeover which means we have to go to the hair appointment I set up plus I was thinking we could go shopping since we almost never have time to. Besides Natasha gets back from her solo mission sometime later today, so we wanted to talk with you when she wasn’t around.”

“Ok,” you respond with a little bit of excitement, “when do we leave?”

“Right now! We can have brunch while we’re out!”

“Yes and then we can go get our nails done and gossip!” Tony says in a fake voice. Both you and Wanda turn to look at him exasperated. “Ok fine, maybe not but I am coming and we are gossiping. Also I need to find a good birthday present for Pepper’s birthday next week.”

“Well that’s good you’re coming because unless you want the same reaction as last year, you’re going to need a lot of help.” Wanda replies. You laugh a little as the three of you leave the tower, Wanda and Tony continuing their mock argument about Tony’s gift giving skills.

Five hours later and you severely regretted going along with their plan. You were already exhausted and still had so much to do before going clubbing. You had already bought an outfit plus a few others which wouldn’t be so bad except Wanda and Tony made you try on what you believed to be the whole store before they seemed satisfied with your look. You had also gotten your nails done and were currently finishing up a lovely brunch which consisted of waffles, maple syrup and some fruits. That would have been enjoyable if not for the fact that Tony and Wanda alternated between nagging you about not chipping a nail and teasing you about your pathetic love life. It was a well known fact in the tower that while they didn’t hate each other, Tony and Wanda didn’t usually get along well but that was probably for the best since together they were ruthless. They seemed to have decided that the time for brunch was over so sighing you followed them out of the restaurant after Tony paid the bill. That’s the one positive at least, all of it was free for you thanks to Tony.

Another five hours later and you could honestly say you were looking forward to the night more than you thought you would. You were currently looking in the mirror in your room and although usually you tended to be indifferent towards your body, sometimes even insecure, you had to admit that you looked pretty hot. The dress was in the perfect colour to bring out your eyes according to Wanda and although it was the perfect balance between classy and slutty, revealing a bit of skin and showing off your assets while still leaving it to the imagination. You also were carrying a black purse which matched your nails and shoes. Your makeup was perfectly done, naturally showing you beauty but adding a little extra glimmer. The thing you were most proud of however and the most noticeable change you had made was your hair. Before you had hair that when completely straight could reach your waist but now it was barely long enough to tuck behind your ears. When you first got to the hair salon you were planning on just trimming it and straightening in it but when you got in the chair something came over you and you just decided to chop it all off.

BANG! The door to your room barges open and Wanda comes flying in.

“Damn girl! You look hot as fuck!” You blush profusely at her words managing to stammer out a thank you. You have never been good at taking compliments because you always get a little shy and awkward.

Tony pokes his head around the doorframe and gives a whistle. “You are smoking hot Y/n, I mean if I didn’t have Pepper I would be all over you. You ready to go?” Not waiting for an answer he turns and starts towards the elevator. You follow but not before exchanging an eye roll with Wanda about Tony’s words. The elevator ride is short and smooth thanks to Tony’s engineering so you don’t have enough time to succumb to the urge of placing your hands on the bars and pushing while lifting your feet. The elevator beeps, Jarvis informing you that you’ve reached the ground level and the doors open. You step out ready to get on with your night but the sight of Natasha just back from a mission freezes you in your tracks.

“Hi,” you say lamely, “I thought you were supposed to get back earlier today?”

“We had some intel that wasn’t fully correct but luckily it didn’t take too long to fix. You look different, where are you heading off to?”

You glance at Tony and Wanda for help because for some reason you feel awkward telling her but they don’t seem to know what you want so you answer anyways. “We’re going clubbing, I’m kinda nervous since I haven’t been in awhile but Wanda helped me get ready-”

“Hey I helped too!”

You ignore Tony’s protest and continue to speak. “-and I think it should be fun. Also there will for sure be hot girls there which is always a plus.”

“Seems like it should be fun,” she responds in her monotone ‘I don’t care’ voice that you hate, “Good luck with the girls though, because your hair looked better long, I don’t like it like this.” You don’t usually get offended easily but you feel tears spring to your eyes at her comment. The only good part is that she doesn’t notice because she’s already walking away, swaying her hips, either not knowing or caring that she hurt you.

Tony and Wanda rush over to you. “Oh sweetie,” Wanda comforts while wrapping an arm around you, “don’t listen to her, that’s not true at all!”

“Then why would she say it?” You ask, careful to keep your voice from cracking because you hated showing when you were upset.

“I don’t know and honestly I don’t give a fuck.” Tony replies. “Just don’t think about it too much, the whole point of this night is to get over her anyways.” You give him a small smile at that. Tony is good with words which translates into being good at comforting people. You know he’s right so although the comment is still upsetting you do your best to push it out of your mind. Locking arms with both Tony and Wanda you pull them towards the door and into the waiting limo. You couldn’t help but smile at the way Tony ruffled your hair as you stepped in or how Wanda kept running her fingers over her arm in an attempt to be reassuring. You had the best friends.

The ride over seemed way shorter than it was supposed to be and before you knew it the limo was stopped to let the three of you out. You take a deep breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your dress before smiling and stepping out after Tony and Wanda. Nobody seems to have noticed the three of you yet which was a good thing. Being Avengers Tony and Wanda were pretty much celebrities and often got swarmed by groups of fans. Technically you were an avenger as well but like Natasha and Clint it was only because you were a Shield so while you did get recognized it wasn’t as often and only tended to happen if you were with other avengers. You make your way inside, splitting from Tony and Wanda at the door. The plan was for them to go to the bar and look over you from there while you went straight to the dance floor because you preferred to be anonymous tonight and they would ruin that and also you didn’t feel like getting drunk. That was the plan at least but you suspected that they would get too drunk to continue watching over you because it had been stressful lately with a lot of paperwork and they needed to unwind. Wanda had practically confirmed that fact when she gave you permission to leave without them.

You step over to the dance floor glancing around to see if there looked to be any single women already there. The reason you had chosen this club was because although it wasn’t lgbtq+ exclusive, it was open to everybody and therefore frequented by many members of the community.

Just as you were glancing around you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Wanna dance?” You spin around to find the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, apart from Natasha. It bothers you that you’re using Natasha as your standard and comparing other girls to her but you brush that off.

“I would love to!” At your response she takes your hand, pulling you into the crowd and starts to dance. You dance as well and slowly you lose track of time as you loosen up and your dancing with the girl becomes less and less innocent. You can feel yourself caring less about what Natasha thought although as great as this girl seemed to be you knew you weren’t ready for a relationship so you hoped she wasn’t looking for one. After what could be a couple of hours because you’ve completely lost track of time, you and the girl whose name you still don’t know head over to a corner of the room and take a seat on two of the stools that were provided.

“Hi, I feel like I should know your name by now, I’m Y/n.” You introduce yourself.

“Wait I thought you looked familiar!” She exclaims. “You’re the Y/n that’s a part of the avengers right?”

You awkwardly give a nod and gesture towards the bar where you can see Tony and Wanda who have obviously had at least a few drinks each. “Tony and Wanda came with me. They are just over there but I didn’t particularly want the spotlight tonight so I split from them at the door.”

“I understand, I must admit I have no desire to be famous. I’m Jamie by the way” She says with a cute little giggle before her mood seems to be more solemn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to a literal avenger and if my friends find out they are going to kill me but I’m sorry if you’re looking for a relationship but I just got out of a serious relationship and am not ready for another one quite yet.”

You let out a relieved sigh. “I’m not looking for a relationship either, because I’m trying to get over my feelings for a friend.”

“Phew!” She replies. “But tell me more about this ‘friend’ of yours.” You take a minute to think before deciding that Jamie could be trusted. You begin to spill all about your feelings for Natasha and how she didn’t seem interested and what she said to you on your way here. Jamie listens sympathetically the entire time before telling you all about how she thought her ex was the one but it turns out she was emotionally abusive. Even though you just met you talk like old friends, offering advice on serious topics but also chatting about random things. You have 3 more drinks each and after every drink your barriers crumble more and more. Eventually you exchange numbers so you can meet up again although you both agreed it would be a platonic meetup. Just as you were giggling about a joke you couldn’t even remember, you saw Jamie tense up and a second later you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turn your head in anger expecting it to be some creepy guy trying to hit on you but it turns to confusion when you see Natasha.

“Can we talk?” She asks, giving Jamie a dirty look. “At the tower. Without her.”

“Why?” You ask. “I’m having fun here Nat.” You specifically say her name as you speak so Jamie knows who you’re talking to.

“Just come home.” She says not answering your question, instead tugging at your wrist lightly. You sigh not knowing what to do so you glance at Jamie for help.

She shrugs and then says, “I have a ride home planned if you want to leave, but I wouldn’t mind staying longer if that’s what you want.”

You make a quick decision in your head before responding, “Ok, we’ll go back to the tower but there better be a good reason.” You then turn to Jamie, “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, and then we can figure out when to hang out.”

“Of course,” she agrees leaning forwards to hug you while whispering in your ear, “good luck but remember not to let her treat you badly just because you’re in love with her.” You pull back from the hug and smile at her as Natasha’s hand moves down to your own as she starts walking, pulling you along with her. You can barely think straight, you have no idea what is going on with Natasha or why she’s acting so weirdly. You glance over to Tony and Wanda to see if they’ve noticed what’s going on but just as you suspected they were drunk out of their minds. If they were normal friends you would have worried about them but you knew Tony’s drivers would get them home safe because although Tony was more responsible with Pepper around this was not the first time they’ve had to haul his drunk ass back to the tower.

Natasha continues to pull you out the door and over to her parked motorcycle where she hands you a helmet and one of her leather jackets. Still not speaking she hops on and motions for you to get on behind her. You swing your leg over the side somewhat awkwardly and scoot forwards so you can grab onto her waist. Once she’s sure you’re secured properly she hits the gas, the motorcycle roaring as it starts. You’ve never been on her motorcycle before so at first you are a bit nervous but after a couple of minutes you start to feel more comfortable. At this point your only nerves come from holding Natasha and wondering what she wants to talk to you about and not the motorcycle ride. Compared to the ride over to the club, this ride feels like it’s taking forever as you start to go over all the important reasons Nat would want to talk to you. You still didn’t know how to feel about everything because she insulted you earlier and now is making you feel important. To protect your feelings you tell yourself that there is probably a mission or a meeting that came up last minute and this isn’t just Natasha wanting to talk. It’s improbable because if that was the case she would have outright said so but you can’t think of any more plausible reasons off the top of your head. Luckily before you can analyze her strange behavior anymore you reach the tower and after parking underground you follow Natasha upstairs into the main living area which is obviously deserted as it is now between 3 and 4 am.

“So why did you want to talk?” You ask, breaking the silence as you take a seat on the couch.

“Why did you go to a club?” She asks, also sitting down on the other end of the couch, avoiding your question.

A surge of anger floods through you and while you don’t shout, you raise your voice a little. “Answer the fucking question Nat. Or did you bring me all the way back just to ask that?”

She looks somewhat surprised that you raised your voice but she keeps hers even. “I just wanted to know. It looked like you were having fun with whoever that girl is.”

“Yeah I was.” You respond, still confused. “But how do you know that?”

Natasha avoids eye contact looking everywhere but you. “I was watching you.”

“YOU WERE WHAT?” You shout before lowering your voice to avoid waking up the whole tower. “Why the fuck were you spying on me?”

“I- I wasn’t.” She replies seemingly caught off guard by your tone of voice. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“Tony and Wanda were with me.” You respond confused. There’s something she’s not telling you that’s making her act weird. She knew you could handle yourself so she obviously was not telling the truth, or at least omitting details. She hasn’t responded to your last statement, instead choosing to look at you in the weird way she does that makes you feel like you’re being interrogated. You decide that if she isn’t going to talk, you won’t either so you pull your phone out of your jacket to check it. You see a text from Jamie saying she got home ok with a little smiley face at the end that causes you to smile. You type back a quick reply, just saying you’re glad she’s safe and that you were with Natasha right now and were probably going to bed soon so you’d text her tomorrow. She wished you luck and goodnight with another little smiley face that made you smile again. Putting your phone away you look back up at Natasha only to find out she’s glaring at you.

Unsure of what could have changed her attitude towards you, you ask, “What?”

“Who were you talking to?” She asks ignoring your question for the second time tonight.

You sigh, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business but if you really must know I was just saying goodnight to the girl from the club, Jamie.”

“So that’s her name.” She says wrinkling her nose. Now you’re really confused as to what Natasha is thinking. You couldn’t tell on normal days but usually she acted rationally and never was like this.

“Why do you say it like that?” You ask.

“I don’t like her.”

“Why don’t you like her?”

“I just don’t.” She answers, offering no explanation. Although you do want to find out why Natasha doesn’t like her you’re too tired to spend the time asking questions so you stand up to go to bed.

“Where are you going?” She demands.

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time of the night. “I’m going to bed. You wanted to talk to me but won’t actually talk, and when I ask you questions, instead of responding you insult my new friend.”

“Friend?” She questions.

“Jamie.” You say confused because you thought the answer was obvious.

“Oh.” She responds, “I’m sorry, please stay.” You think about it for a second, deciding to stay so you go to sit down again, but before you do Natasha scoots over to your end of the couch pulling you down into her side. Your entire body freezes up because you’re so unsure of what to do. Natasha never initiated physical contact of any kind but now she was practically hugging you. Seeming to realize how uncomfortable you were, she quickly moves away.

“Sorry,” she mutters, “That was stupid.”

“No, no, it’s fine, you can come back.” You respond quickly. As much as you were uncomfortable, it felt really nice to have her by your side. She somewhat shyly shifts back over to you but this time instead of wrapping her arm around your shoulders she nuzzles into your side, maneuvering your arms so they wrap around her. You have no idea what’s going on right now but you can’t help but smile as you look down at her. She looks cute and relaxed, with her hair covering parts of her face. Thinking about her hair reminds you of her opinion of your new haircut. You bite your lip nervously as you debate asking her about that or not. You definitely don’t want to ruin the cuddly mood that she’s in now but the comment still bothers you, not to mention you never actually found out why she took you home from the club.

“Um Natasha?” You ask in a timid voice. “Is my haircut really that bad?”

“Of course not, I think it suits you.” She responds smoothly. “I lied to you earlier.”

You smile at that. “Thank you but why?”

She takes a deep shaky breath before speaking. “Promise this won’t change anything between us first, that we will stay friends.”

“Ok,” You respond, earnest but confused, “I promise.”

“I didn’t like the idea of you going clubbing and coming home with some one night stand or even worse a girlfriend because I have feelings for you. So I was childish and took out my frustrations on you by pretending I didn’t like you. I’m sorry.” She’s looking up at you now, the most nervous you’ve ever seen her. Your mind is exploding with this new information and your heart feels so happy you can’t even believe what is going on.

“Is that why you were watching me with Jamie at the club and then told me you had to talk to me?”

“Yeah”

After a few more seconds of shocked silence that feels like hours to Natasha you finally speak. “I know I promised that this wouldn’t change anything between us but I don’t think it can be the same.” She starts to pull away from your side but before she can you lean over and press your lips against hers. At first you are hesitant but once she starts kissing back you gain confidence, the kiss getting more heated. After a minute or two you both pull away to catch your breath, smiling at each other.

Natasha lightly swats you on the arm. “You’re evil.” You giggle a little in response. “I was so worried for a second there, I thought you would be weirded out by that.” She continues also giggling slightly.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that I had feelings for you,” you confess to her, “it was actually Tony and Wanda’s idea for me to go out because we all thought you didn’t like me so they thought it was a good idea to get over you.”

“Well that plan failed,” she says smirking, “I guess you can’t get over me.”

You look at her and yawn. “No I guess I can’t.”

At your yawn she glances at the clock. “We better get you to bed, it’s almost the time Steve wakes up for training.” You would like to spend more time with Natasha but you’re too tired to argue so you just nod and follow her as she pulls you up and leads you to your room, holding your hand the whole way. Inside your room she sits on your bed while you change, politely looking away. Once you’re in pyjamas you hold a pair out to her and she looks at you confused.

“Do you want to stay the night?” You ask her. She eagerly nods, accepting the pyjamas as you open your covers and crawl into bed. As soon as she’s done she turns off the lights and hops in behind you, spooning you. You sigh as you feel her plant a kiss on the back of your head. You can barely keep your eyes open and although you still haven’t talked about exactly what your new relationship with Natasha was yet, you were excited for what was to come. Your last thought before you drifted off to sleep was complete bliss as Natasha kept planting soft kisses on the back of your neck, head and shoulders.

The next morning you hear a loud pounding at your door. You groan and slowly gain consciousness, smiling as you remember last night and the redhead still cuddling you. Just like yesterday Tony doesn’t bother to wait for you to answer and instead barges straight in. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you spooning and he starts to splutter. You laugh at him with Natasha until he shouts for the other avengers to come. Multiple pairs of footsteps make your way to your bedroom and you see the shocked faces of a few of the other avengers, including Wanda, Steve and Clint.

“What,” Natasha says speaking up, “can’t a girl cuddle with her girlfriend in peace?” Steve immediately apologizes, ushering everyone out of the room and closing the door.

You raise your eyebrow. “Girlfriends?”

“I assumed so, if you want.” She responds.

“I like the sound of that...girlfriend.” You both smile at each other. You definitely did not complete your goal of getting over Natasha and instead fell further in love but you were totally ok with that.

#marvel #natasha #romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fic #marvel fanfiction #tony stark #wanda maximoff #clint barton #orignial character

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yuzukult · 3 years

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effortlessly, the epilogue (m) || jjk & reader

title: effortlessy, the epilogue pairing: jungkook x reader word count: 5.6k genre: the after high school :) + my infamous poorly written smut a/n: it’s shorter than intended but... it’s out guys! because someone asked me when I planned on posting this and I thought that I was the only one who cared about this epilogue. ;u; Thanks for mentioning it to me, because it motivated me to write it again. Enjoy! series masterlist can be found here

"I want to take care of the planet like Greta Thunberg!"

"Noooo, wouldn't you want to be something cooler? Like a soccer player? How about Lionel Messi?"

"Forget soccer! I want to do something even better... make computers like Steve Jobs!"

One of the children frowns, shoulders slouching in disappointment and frustration of his classmates. Leaning down, you brush away the bangs that cover his eyes, gently pinching his chubby cheeks full of love and care. "What's wrong, Jaemin?"

"I don't want to be like Greta Thunberg or Lion Messi or Steve Work!" He exclaims, arms thrown in the air.

"It's Lionel Messi and Steve Jobs, Jaemin!"

"Okay, okay," You say soothingly, hands cupping and thumbs rubbing against the flesh of his cheeks delicately. "That's fine, Jaemin, you don't have to be like those people if you don't want to. You can choose whatever profession you want, and whomever you want it to be like."

"I want to be a swimmer, like Jeon Jungkook!"

"Mm," You hum, tapping your finger against your chin as if you're pondering about Jaemin's idea. "You could, if you'd like. Have you ever met Jeon Jungkook before?"

"No," He pouts, his bottom lip jutting out in dismay. "But momma showed me videos of hyung online and he seems like a very kind person." Nodding, your hands fall into the ones of Jaemin's, swaying your arms together to calm his nerves. Children tend to be very emotional, you learn after the many years of experience with them, and Jaemin is no exception. Finding ways to tame their anxiousness was the true challenge. "Want to hear a secret?"

His eyes widen as large as the cartoons he watches on TV. "Yes! What's the secret?"

Pretending to glance out to confirm that the coast is clear and that the other children had walked away to find something more interesting to direct their attention to, you whisper into Jaemin's ear. "Jeon Jungkook was my best friend."

Jaemin gasps. "No way. Your friend? Are you just saying that to me so I can feel better?" Yes, is what you really wanted to tell him, but truth to be told, you weren't lying. Kids were incredibly smart for even noticing that adults would say things to water down the situation, but you weren't just saying anything. "Of course not. Jungkook and I go way back, way before he became a professional swimmer. I used to go to all his practices, hung out with him after them, and even attended classes with him... just like you're in one right now!"

"Do you think... Do you think you can ask Jungkook hyung to come visit us? Maybe? If you're still friends with him..." He drifts, the thought of not being able to see his hero weighing down on his shoulders again. "I'll see what I can do," Standing from where you've been crouching, you ruffle Jaemin's hair with a soft sigh escaping your lips. "Now go play with the other kids. Remember, you can be whoever you want, and everyone else can be whoever they want as well."

Right before the clock hits 3:00PM, you verify that all the little kids are geared up in their beanies, puffer jackets, shoes, and some with gloves, in preparation for their parents' arrival. When the doors open and the children line up, leaving one by one, their nose and cheeks tint pink at the harsh winds, shivering yet at the same time cheering in glee when they see their guardians pull up.

Watching the smiles on their faces reminds you of the time that you hated the winter; brisk air smacking your cheeks in pain, freezing your face in position, fingers stiff from being exposed to the outside, and constant shaking just to warm yourself up in a clownery large winter coat. Yet, this time around, you find yourself fond of the weather, the thought of being able to spend time with your loved ones approaching and activities that could only be done during this specific season.

"Ready to head out?" One of your co-workers asks, just as bundled up as you are, learning your lesson after leaving without a jacket that wasn't thick enough before a day ago. "Yeah, I am. Let me just get my purse first, Naeun."

It's a constant cycle everyday: swipe your transit pass onto the bus, get off, walk an obscene amount of distance, if it's a good day then you'd stop for coffee, get to school, and prep for the day before calling the students in to take attendance, then that's when the teaching starts.

But something about today feels great, despite the snow falling from the sky that nearly has you slipping on the ice from lack of attention to anything in front of you. So, you grab something hot. After all, what's better than a cup of hot chocolate in the morning right before you're stuck in a classroom full of twenty first-graders?

Following your medium sized peppermint hot chocolate (you're rather quite enamored that you're able to find a peppermint flavor because it's your favorite), hopping out of the coffee shop with glee, you're ready to be on route to work again.

Then someone obnoxiously honks their horn.

You show no regard to this, mostly because it makes no sense to. Someone who's driving a flashy neon yellow Porsche is already gaining all the unnecessary attention in the first place, and you're not really in the mood to be categorized within that population.

But the beeping doesn't stop.

Oddly enough, it actually feels like the car is following you. Sweating profusely, you're debating whether or not to glance to see who the driver is. Just then, your phone dings.

jeon jungkook [6:57AM]: i've been trying to get you to turn around for the past 10 minutes, could you please stop walking faster? at this rate you're going to be a runner?

Instantaneously, you stop in the midst of your steps, sharply twisting on your heel to see the owner of the flamboyant vehicle. There he was, with the driver's side window rolled down, exposing those pearly white teeth of his, paired with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

Typical.

"Jeon Jungkook, fancy meeting you here."

"Not really fancy if I had to check your location services to see where you've been. It's not fun being ignored, love." He has his arm rested on the opening, watching as you purse your lips and bounce on the tips of your toes. "Mm, wonder why that is."

"Don't be like that," He frowns, chin sitting on his arm. "Come, I'll drive you to work. Maybe we can talk along the way."

"I'm not really in the mood to talk to you at seven in the morning, Jeon."

"Please?" He begs, pools of brown that match the liquid in your cup and the sweetness it entails. Just his voice alone was warm, shooting into your chest and you're trying to convince yourself that it's the drink, not him. "Fine." You respond through your gritted teeth, rounding the hood of the car to enter the passenger seat.

Jungkook looks so happy he could burst.

On the ride to work, you don't talk. He speaks casually, sharing stories about his adventures, ones that you don't really want to hear about or was it that his current attire that's causing your mind to get fuzzy? Baby blue dress shirt with just a couple of the buttons let loose, tucked into those dark grey slacks that hug his thighs so well, that you needed to avert your eyes or else he'd see you checking him out.

He does in fact, to the point that he needs to hide the smirk that dangles on his lips, but he refrains himself because getting you to forgive him is a difficult task alone, and teasing you wouldn't get him anywhere.

"Pull up here," You demand when he's driving by the perimeter of the building. "You don't need to drive into the yard. I don't need the teachers thinking I'm hanging out with someone driving a construction safety yellow car."

Jungkook is admittingly disappointed, hoping that he gets more time with you but he did choose a work day to meet you. "Can I see you after this?" He's suddenly bashful after approaching you confidently earlier, no semblance of high school Jungkook hinted in his personality anymore. "I don't know. Maybe. We'll see." With that, you slip out the car, greeting the parents that you pass by, sharing that beaming smile that he was wishing was for him instead. You're prettiest when you're working—the way you're talking to your students as they begin to line up to enter class, tapping their noses with your drink in hand, drowning in your oversized coat. You seem at your happiest, suddenly regretting his recent absence from your life.

Reminiscing back to the time of when you didn't know what you wanted to do with your life, where you wanted to go, and who you wanted to be were questions that were constantly thrown up in the air. He recalls those nights where he'd hear your whimpers through the wall between the bedroom and the living room, sitting at the coffee table in frustration while he prepped for bed. Life had been a crazy journey for the both of you, especially when he had gotten invited to pursue in other work opportunities.

You're thankful when you leave work that day and don't spot the rubber duck colored car anywhere near the schoolyard, yet at the same time, slightly despondent that he didn't return. "You look down," Naeun points out, nose peeking from her scarf with her hands dug deep into the pockets of her jacket. "Expecting someone?"

"Kind of, not really," You confess, letting out a heavy sigh with water vapor in the air. "But not surprised anyways."

"Does it have anything to do with a cheddar cheese looking car?"

Choking on your saliva, you attempt to clear your throat at her recognition. "How'd... you know it had to do with a yellow car?"

She leans over, gesturing in the direction behind you with her chin. "Other than the fact that it's hard to miss a car that bright in the morning, you coming out of it is also attention grabbing. Plus, he's over there, parked in the corner with a swarm of little kids around him."

Flinching, you look in her direction, the sight of Jungkook seated on the hood of his ridiculous vehicle, uncomfortably bending over to reach the height of the flock of little children with their parents, signing autographs and exchanging words with them.

You can't tell if it's cute or making your blood boil.

When you walk over to him with Naeun by your side, he looks up with that annoying smile on his face again. "Jeon Jungkook."

"See, Jaemin? She does know me." Jungkook teases, messing up the little boy's hair. Jaemin has a look on his face that screams nothing but elation, spilling with happiness that couldn't be fulfilled until he met his idol, Jungkook, the Olympian swimmer. "You were right! He is your best friend!"

"I said was, but you get the point." Jungkook jerks up, quickly shuffling to dip his head in the window opening of his car, pulling out a drink, handing it to you. "Would someone who was your friend get you your favorite drink?"

In a medium Starbucks cup, there's an iced cold brew with cold foam sitting on top—a drink that you had grown attached and addicted to in your first year of University, ordering it so frequently on the daily that you had to wean yourself off it. "Cold brew," You clarify, taking the drink gleefully. "I guess you remembered."

Naeun extends her hand at Jungkook, requesting a shake. "Oh my god, Jeon Jungkook, I'm a big fan. I heard that you were recently sponsored by Nike—crazy! She—" She's referring to you with a glare "—never mentioned that she was friends with a professional swimmer!"

"Didn't think it was important," You add, swirling before taking a sip of the liquid gold. "Knowing someone who swam for your country's Olympic team isn't usually brought up in an everyday conversation."

She rolls her eyes as Jungkook gifts her a warm handshake, hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. He's dressed for comfort, this afternoon as opposed to this morning, and you're curious of his schedule yet you don't ask. "Kids, time to go home, don't leave your parents waiting." You dismiss the children who whine in reaction. "But we want to talk to Jungkook!"

"I'll be back tomorrow!" He confirms, and they run away in excitement, earning a groan from you. "Tomorrow? You're actually expecting to be back tomorrow?"

"Why? You don't want to see me?"

"Jungkook, why are you even back?" You exasperate, fingers running through your tangled locks. Jungkook is starting to frustrate you and all you want to do is go home and snuggle under the covers while watching a movie while possibly grading some papers. "What's the point of all this?"

He pouts, an arm snaking around your waist to pull your frame close. "I literally came to see my girlfriend and all she does is push me away. Isn't that crazy, Naeun? The girl of my dreams agreed to date me then she pretends that I don't even exist."

Jaw dropped, Naeun can't even formulate a sentence with the new information. "I know what you're going to say next, 'why didn't you—'"

"Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend this entire time? Why didn't you even mention that it was Jungkook! You just faked the entire time that you weren't with someone while I was tricking you into going on dates—"

"You set her up with guys?" Jungkook's brows furrowed at Naeun before looking down at you. "You let her set you up with guys?"

"I didn't go to any of those dates she organized," You mention, bringing the drink to your lips again, truly the only thing that calms your nerves despite the chaos unfolding in front of you. "I vaguely said I wasn't interested."

"You could've just said that you had a boyfriend!"

"Well, you weren't around to prove it, so did it really matter?" Shrugging your shoulders, you escape from his grasp to drag the zipper of your jacket up higher. "Anyways, I'm out. Get home safe, Naeun, let me know how it goes with that mechanic guy tonight." Tugging up your sleeve for a better view of your watch, you nod. "My bus is coming soon—"

"—I'm literally standing right here and you're still going to take the bus?"

"I'm going to take this as my cue to leave..." Naeun chimes in, quickly waving goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Jungkook-ssi?" And he nods in return, watching as she walks away.

"I can't believe you would just waltz in here like you can do whatever you want." You hiss, nearly squeezing the cup in your hand but the cold brew inside is too valuable to let go to waste. "This is my workplace, not my house."

"I would go to your house if I knew where it was. You turned off your location yesterday."

"Maybe you shouldn't have outed yourself the first time, then you would've known." He moans, pushing his hair away from his face. The length has grown tremendously since the last time you saw him, reaching his chin with the ends curling into the shapes of his eyes when he's gleaming with a grin. "Why are you making things so difficult for the both of us?"

"I'm not." You respond nonchalantly, blinking blankly at the man before you.

Jungkook tugs on your arm. "Then let me take you home, to our home, really, since you decided that you wanted to move out without me here when the lease ended."

"I told you I didn't want to live where stalkers were standing outside my place."

"And I told you that you should call the bodyguard my company said they'd provide for you. Why didn't you call? Why didn't you tell me?"

Truthfully, you didn't want to go through the complications of the process of getting someone to consistently watch over you on a daily basis—it was easier to just up and leave, find somewhere else to reside instead of getting attacked by his fans. "It was too complex," allowing him to pull you in between his open legs as he rests on the hood of his car. "Plus, why would I want to ask help from a guy who wouldn't even come home for our anniversary? Easier to leave instead of being disappointed all the time."

The edges of his mouth drops. "Don't say it like that. I had to work, or else I would've taken the first flight back home. All the opportunities just so happen to be in the States."

"Go live there then, you don't need to come back. It's convenient for you to find a place there anyway."

"I'm not leaving you, idiot." He counters back, irritated that you're even making such suggestions. "I told you this every single time we meet again, every phone-call, every facetime. I won't move unless it's with you." The look in his eyes is hypnotizing mixed along with his words, swaying you into his direction unless you shake your head from the thoughts, stepping back. "Fine. Drive me home, whatever. Your stuff is still there anyways. I guess you still somewhat live with me."

Jungkook takes this as a victory.

In all honesty, he loves the idea of a domestic relationship. Jungkook loves having to wake up in the morning with you sleeping on the other side of the bed, corners of your eyes filled with dry boogers that'll probably hurt when you decide to get up, and brushing your teeth together, side by side, shoving each other just to be able to spit in the tiny little sink in the apartment. He argues that he could help pay for a better place, but you reject him regardless, wanting to stay in a more affordable place, one where you can go halfsies on.

He misses watching you hover over the stove, obnoxiously monitoring whatever it is you're cooking for dinner, only for him to call you out and take over instead. Or when you're doing work on the floor with your papers and laptop sprawled across the coffee table, leaning back when your shoulders get tired, resting in between his legs with your back against the body of the couch.

So on the route of driving you home, that’s all he can think about as you sit in silence.

This was definitely not the plan.

Parked in the garage of your apartment complex, the fluorescent lights don’t do a good job of piercing through the tinted windows of Jungkook’s car, which you’re super thankful for despite the obnoxious primary color he chooses. The steam fills the glass, hand pressed against the armrest on the door as you’re panting heavily, an uneven match with Jungkook’s. He has a grip on both your ass and hips, guiding as you’re grinding yourself on him, wishing to be closer than you already were.

How he has you out of your jeans is unknown. Your jackets have already been throat into the some-what backseat, your dress shirt unbuttoned with your breasts spilling from your nude bra, and his shirt is hiked up just enough to catch a glimpse of his abs. Swimming requires him to keep his body in shape and there’s no complaint from you on that.

Mouth opened, he let out a groan, feeling your tightness around his cock that made a drop of sweat fall from his forehead. “Fuck,” He curses, the sight of you in front of him clenches his heart. Jungkook thinks you’re so pretty under this light— even prettier than when he knew you in high school, it’s like the longer he knows you, the more infatuated he is. When you gyrate your hips aggressively, he suddenly can’t take it anymore, hands trailing up your spine, pushing you down against his chest before he digs his feet into the carpeted floors, hips piston up into you.

The new angle has your stomach in knots, a soft gasp falling from your lips that only encourages him to go harder. “Can you come like this?”

“Touch me,” You respond, and it comes out nearly as a whine but you’re too busy being fogged up by pleasure to even care. “Jeon, please,” Begging at this point, he slips himself between the two of you, thumb rubbing against the bud as your grip on his shoulders clasp firms, lips against the flesh of his neck.

“You’re going to come now, aren’t you?”

The way he says it hints an arrogant smirk, one you’re bothered with but you’re in the middle of something currently. It’s rhetorical, to him, because your pussy is convulsing around his dick that he’s almost reaching his limit yet he waits for you patiently. “I’m gonna—”

“Let go, baby,” He manages to say through a heave, your eyes tightly shut closed before you reach your orgasm; a melodic moan finally releasing into his ears that he’s been expecting all night, one that you’ve been holding back to showcase that you’re still mad at him. Jungkook couldn’t care— well, just right now, since he has his dick in you, thrusting away until he hits his own orgasm, ropes of cum coating your swollen pink walls.

You’ve grown limp against his body, nose snuggled into the crook of his neck, breathing heavy but slowed from previously. He misses having you like this, bare and close to him, skin feeling light from post-sex. “I love you,” He hums, pressing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up?”

Nodding, you barely have the strength to push yourself off his body, but he doesn’t let go of the grip he has around your mid-frame anyways, sliding the back of the seat up to straighten yourselves. Leaning over to the glove compartment, he snatches a couple tissues before slipping his limp dick out of you, wiping away your mixed come.

When he eventually has the both of you dressed, you lead him into the building, in the elevator and up to the floor of your apartment, cheeks still tinted rosy from the act in the car. Jungkook doesn’t mind it though, he thinks it’s cute that you’re embarrassed.

If this is what it’s going to be like forever— the warmth that you give, despite the words that come from your mouth, the affection and care that you distribute just for him, and the newfound confidence you’ve discovered during college that you’re not afraid of showing him... he wants it. Forever.

“Mm, so you’re telling me that you still fucked him even though you said that you were mad at him?”

Yura is adorable with her little baker’s hat on, working endlessly in the kitchen of her new bakery that she decided to open in Seoul after graduating culinary school. Luckily for you, it’s close enough to your apartment that you found yourself stopping by to visit frequently, stealing the goods that don’t make it out to the display fridge.

“... Possibly. I don’t know. I couldn’t help it— I didn’t get dicked down in forever. And no, don’t talk about using the dildo you gave me last year, I haven’t even touched the thing.”

“What? Nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s meaty, girthy—“

“Oh my god, please don’t continue that sentence,” You wince, palm against your forehead. “It was good, alright? I mean, sure, I finished myself off when I’m alone but yesterday, in the car—”

“You hoe— you didn’t only give your vagina to him, but you gave it to him in the car? You couldn’t even wait, could you? And what now, is he living back at the apartment?”

“I mean... he said he didn’t get a hotel because he wanted to sleep in his own bed again...”

Yura laughs, clapping her hands in amusement as the powder hits her face. “You’re so funny, you know that? Why do you keep playing this charade when you could just... let him back in?”

You sigh, plopping your body down onto the stool by the counters, elbows against the floured tops. Truthfully, caving into all the mistakes Jungkook made was something too common from you, wishing that he wasn’t good with his words and affectionate whenever he’s around you. He missed an anniversary, a 6th year anniversary, and from what you read on the forums online, it’s one of those years where relationships start to get bumpy.

“I just— I don’t want to be easy, you know? I let him get away with everything, and it’s not fair that he’s all the way in the States, doing whatever it is he’s doing, while I’m here, watching twenty to thirty little kids everyday. And I can’t tell him to stop what he’s doing because well— it’s his dream, Yura, who am I to stop him?”

“You don’t,” She responds sharply, glaring at you through her floured lashes. “You should’ve gotten on a plane to the States. It’s your anniversary, as in both you and Jungkook. It’s not his designated job to come here when it’s an anniversary to celebrate the both of you.”

There she goes again, even 6 years later after high school, Yura exhibits the realities of a situation, especially the ones that you’re in.

“I guess...” You say faintly, slowly reaching your surrender.

“No guessing. Please leave and go look for him. Tell him that you’re sorry, that you’re not going to be a big baby anymore. You’ve been with him for six years, and no matter how mad you get at him, he’s always coming back for more and attempting to make it up to you. Also, it’s 6:30AM... shouldn’t you already be on your way to work?”

“Oh, right, fuck, okay, thanks, Yura!” Jolting out of the bakery, you’re practically running to the school when you halt in your route at the sight of the familiar neon yellow car that’s parked on the school yard, yet again.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook, and I’m on South Korea’s Men’s Swim Team. I’m training for 800M Freestyle Swim again, and possibly, maybe, planning to retire soon.”

Retire? The word that slips from Jungkook’s mouth is unfamiliar, mostly because he had never discussed this with you before, causing you to furrow your brows in perplexity at him as he stands in front of the black chalkboard in your classroom full of children.

“I actually lived next door to your lovely teacher here, and we grew up together. She even coached me early in my years since I didn’t have anyone with credentials to show me. We both used to stare at the computer, day and night, renting videos from the library, and spending most of our time together just so that we could improve on my skills...” As Jungkook babbles on to the students, Naeun nudges you in the stomach.

“What?” You hiss in a whisper. Softly, she responds, “You never told me any of this! I thought we were friends! You’ve been hiding from me that you’re dating an Olympian and that you guys knew each other since you were little? What else haven’t you told me?”

“Mm,” You hum, arms crossed over your chest. “I got recruited to shadow coaches back in the university Jungkook and I attended. I rejected their offer and went undecided before coming to terms that I’d teach.”

Naeun is taken aback by all this information, stumbling back to the edge of your desk to regain her balance. “You were recruited to coach? And you rejected that offer? Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because swimming is Jungkook’s dream, not mine.”

During college, evidently enough, you had been struggling endlessly trying to figure out what you wanted to do with yourself. There were moments where you considered taking a gap year— a break from it all, go somewhere maybe to finally understand yourself and what you want to do. Jungkook’s eyes when you mentioned it to him grew wary, sad that he couldn’t be there to help you but just stare at your helpless expression through the screen of his phone.

One thing you knew for sure, you didn’t want Jungkook to pity you. (Although, he never did. He was just too in love and couldn’t see the girl of his dreams sad.)

So you pushed harder. Met with people, asked about their experiences, requested for a mentor, and just researched. It was exactly like the time Jungkook told you he wanted to swim, so you obsessively tried to find any information on it so that you could teach him and show him things he could do in the water.

You learned that if you wanted something bad enough, you grew a drive for it.

It might’ve been when Jungkook realized that you were great at coaching. When he tried to sway you into coaching people because you were great and motivating people to do better, to try harder, and all of this without overworking them to the point of turning into dust. Despite everything, you didn’t want to coach swimming— and soon learning, you didn’t want to coach any sport. But the closest thing to it was teaching.

And a teacher was what you became.

There was already enough experience in teaching someone, or in this case, tutoring, because Jungkook sucked at it back in grade school. He always needed help, and that’s where you swooped in. Arms filled with notebooks, backpack dragging you full with textbooks while you stood at Jungkook’s front porch, ready to confuse him with letters and numbers that he learned he didn’t even need now.

“Did you know he was thinking about retirement?” Naeun sneaks in again. You shake your head, watching your boyfriend answer questions from the crowd. “No, I didn’t. He’s never even mentioned that word to me, ever.”

Just as Jungkook finishes, you holler out for the class to settle down, pushing him aside as he bumps back into the wall with a grin on his face. “Ok, class, since it’s 5 minutes before recess, I’m just going to let you guys go off. It is a Friday, so enjoy yourselves!”

Jungkook joins in when you’re zipping up the jackets and tying the shoes of the kids; they’re all too excited for an extra five minutes of recess time, saying something along the lines of, “we should ask hyung to come more often, he makes her happy enough to give us five extra minutes!” and Jungkook stifles a laugh.

Standing against the brick masonry of the building, Jungkook accompanies you. “You’re going to ask me about the whole retirement thing, aren’t you?”

“Was. But you didn’t seem like you cared enough to bring it up to me.”

He sighs, adjusting the beanie on his head. “I didn’t decide until yesterday. I’m going to be in the next Olympics then I’m retiring. I’ve made enough money from the sponsorships and I’m sure I’ll be able to keep my affiliation with Nike ‘til past that.”

Glancing over at him before looking back at the children playing in the yard, you snuggle your nose deeper into your scarf. “Why’s that? Isn’t swimming your dream?”

“It is,” He says, voice genuine and filled with honesty. “I might do some things here and there, maybe train some kid with potential. I just... I don’t know how much longer I can do this thing between us. I’m never going to give up on swimming, and there’s so many opportunities out there for me to do that includes it. But this whole... training for the Olympics thing— I’ve done it already. It’s great, I’ll do another year of it. But by the time the second time I enter, we’ll be hitting that age where it’s time to settle down.”

“We don’t need to have a set time to settle down—“

“I know that we don’t but I’m tired of this whole long distance thing. You’ve been so supportive of my dreams, and I’ve accomplished them already. It’s time that I’m here, by your side, supporting yours.”

There’s silence between the two of you, despite the constant screaming and laughing that’s coming from the playground.

“I’m sorry,” You blurt and he only looks at you with bewilderment on his face. “I should’ve came to visit you on our anniversary instead of expecting you to come here. It was selfish of me.”

Jungkook laughs, beaming brightly with the sweetest smile upon his lips. “You used to be so timid and shy back in high school. You’ve developed into this woman who’s confident and fierce, sometimes scaring me because I never thought you could ever be like this.”

“Does it make you like me any less?”

“No,” He turns to you, tightening the scarf around your neck in prevention of slipping. “But... it makes me love you more. You’re also admitting things and apologizing. Very huge character development if you asked me. Say, how about we go home tonight and celebrate our anniversary, to make up for the one we miscommunicated about?”

“I’d... like that, very much.” You respond, chewing on your bottom lip bashfully.

“Now,” He begins, pinching your frozen cheeks gently. “I told you I love you about... a million times since I came back. I’m still waiting for you to say it too.”

He’s still somewhat the same Jungkook from back then, hidden underneath the blanket of adulthood and experiences through college but nonetheless, just as much as he changed, you’ve loved him through every stage he’s gone through. He felt the same. “Love you too, Jeon.” And there it was, the smile that tugs on the edges of your lips that he’s been waiting for, dedicated just for him.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts #bts smut #gyukultfics #:)

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huenjin · 4 years

Text

feel something different.

pairing – bang chan x reader

word count – 1473 words

request – chan + fingering + squirting + corruption (i combined three to make it of a decent length with an okayish plot !!!)

genre – smut, includes theft, car sex, spanking, fingering, squirting, praise kink

note – wait and watch me make this into a 10k fic because i love this plot, ah !!

"You want me to steal the car."

Chan has his hands shoved into the pockets of his denim, his eyebrows raised at you as he watches you. It is way too late for anyone to be out in the streets but you are here, head over heels for this man before you.

"Can't do that, babygirl?" He chuckles, eyes wrinkling into thin crescent. "Told you to not follow me, that you wouldn't like what I'm doing. Pretty girls like you deserve to be treated better. Pretty girls like you are too good to be ruined by my hands."

You turn to look at the Porsche Cayenne — white, glossy and too expensive for you to ever purchase. Your feet are fixed – almost rooted — to the ground and you hear Chan, your entire being temptable to his voice, "The minute you agree though, babygirl, you agree to being ruined by me. You are walking into corruption, aware of the consequences."

You turn to look back at Chan, "I'll do it." Chan folds his arms, raising an eyebrow at your tiny physique that he hovers over quite easily. You repeat, almost like you are reassuring yourself that you can do it, in fact. Chan's staring at your figure in eyes dark and mind clouded because he knows he loves this more than ever — corrupting you is his Achilles heel.

Fifteen minutes, one car at 110 kilometres per hour and one shocked you later, Chan is directing you, your hands on the steering wheel of the stolen car. You are too shaken up to say anything as you press your foot on the gas, letting the car guide you. Your mind is blank, and your blood is contaminated by the overload of adrenaline because today, you commit more than one crime in the name of love.

A broad beach and the waters hitting up the shore come in your vision and you turn to look at Chan, asking, "Is this the place?" He nods. He looks straight and tells you, "You can park here for a while and calm yourself."

Once parked, your head falls down against the steering wheel and your hand holds your chest. Everything comes crashing to you now and you finally realise you are absolutely, completely crazy to commit crimes to garner this man's attention — something he still hasn't given you yet.

You lift your head up and look at Chan, your eyes with want and hope and just expectations that he'll be yours. Your body unknowingly leans forward, your hand pushing up the loose strands of hair away.

"Stop looking at me like that," he tells strictly, his eyes shooting a glare at you.

"Look at you like what?"

"Like you want me," he frowns. "Like you want me to ruin you further." You lean further, trailing your fingers up his firm, strong arm.

"I'm not looking at you like that," you pout. "I just want you to give me a chance." You sit back against the driver's seat, folding your arms and still looking at him with hope, innocence laced underneath your orbs.

"I'm serious, Y/N," Chan warns you. "This was supposed to scare you away. You deserve better. You deserve a man that doesn't do crimes to survive a day."

"No," you huff, eyes narrowing. You shake your head and the loose strands of hair fall forward once again. "I deserve you."

Chan will never say it out loud, but he loves you like that with your hair strands forward. He fucking loves how your strands border your face and highlight how pretty you are, how flushed your cheeks are around him, how perfect you are that he just wants to ruin you, completely.

"Get in the back."

It's firm and there is a resolve that stirs something within you. Chan runs a hand through his hair and mumbles, "Don't say I didn't warn you, babygirl."

With a few shuffles in the next few minutes, you find yourself in the current position. You are bent over Chan's lap in the back seat of this expensive Porsche, your skirt pushed up, panties pulled down.

"Are you already wet from me exposing you?" Chan sniggers. His warm hand runs slow circles into your cheek, thumb grazing harshly at the same time and in a minute, his hand lifts up to spank your arse. You gasp, your spine straightening and you grip on the leather covered seat.

He chuckles, "Babygirl, you just grew wetter with that." Chan rubs your hair with his other hand. Tears prick the corner of your eyes when he rubs the red skin to land a harsh blow against it again.

You scream, "Chan, please." You can feel the slick arousal that has gathered in between your legs, your body shivering. You are sure that you are dripping onto Chan's denim by now.

Chan's slaps gets periodic, with a little more force in every single one of them. You start to twitch and convulse with every hit, biting back moans, tears spilling and it's weird how something you have never tried before is what pivots you to feel close. He rubs your red skin, leaning forward to blow cold air against them and you gasp. "You're such a good girl for me. So obedient. So innocent. And all mine to corrupt."

One final slap and you begin to leak profusely, trying to rub your core against his leg. You whimper shamelessly, unable to hold back any longer.

Chan ends the spanking almost abruptly and the lack of contact makes you cling onto his thighs, fingers digging into them in desperation, body shaking miserably at what he has already done to you. You close your eyes for a minute, trying to control your breath, when suddenly you feel his fingers carressing your pussy.

"So wet for me. You are leaking, baby girl. That's hot," he coos. "So fucking hot." Before you have even a minute to register what Chan's doing, two of his fingers are inside you. Your breathing becomes shallower and laboured, and you dig your fingers further into his thick thighs. He turns his fingers in you and you let out an etched cry. He whispers, bending forward, "You know what's hotter? You stealing cars with me and me fucking you stupid in the backseat of every single one of them."

Chan doesn't play around and gets right to it, pumping his fingers into you, stretching your walls. The rhythm and skill he moves is with such finesse that he makes you a putty in his hold. You and him seem to blend together in a harmony of your own. You swear to heavens you have never felt a pleasure like this. Chan's fingers, thumb brushing against your hot arse cheeks, relentlessly thrust into you as it, with every drag of his fingers, stains you further and further into an abyss of corruption with him.

"You love when my fingers are this deep in you, don't you, baby girl?" Chan's thumb rubs against your clit, slow circles into them as he presses into the button. "Go on, baby. Clench down on my fingers."

"Chan," you gasp, your core tightening on order. "Fuck."

"What a filthy word leaving your innocent mouth," he clicks his tongue.

You quickly become overwhelmed, hypersensitive to everything around you — the harsh material of the denim, Chan's fingers knuckle deep in you and his thumb pressing into your clit. In the back of your head, you are still unable to process that you are being fingered to oblivion by the one you have obsessed over in the backseat of a car you stole. Your mind is clouded with pleasure, pleasure that become even more distinct when he manages to wriggle another finger inside of you.

Within seconds, it all falls apart. Like a star exploding in you, it starts. Your pussy spasms around Chan's fingers, gripping them so tight that his fingers slow down in motion to feel how clenched you are. He thrusts few more times before he buries his fingers deep inside you, rubbing your clit vigorously. Your eyes roll back and you are crying out, wailing loudly shamelessly as you begin to gush around his fingers. Your slick arousal spurts forward staining his denim jeans and his fingers, wetness running down his knuckles.

Chan lets you ride it out till your body has calmed down, orgasm receding and your chest is heaving in to take in the air. He pulls his fingers out, only to stick them into his mouth, tongue wrapping around them and your mouth parts, gaping at the sight and honestly too tired to do anything else. He sucks on his fingers coated in your arousal before he finally chuckles.

"Guess I got my innocent baby girl too corrupted that she squirted all over me and made a mess."

#chan smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan #stray kids #skz #drabbles.rue #smut drabbles.rue #writings.rue #kpop smut

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marvel-and-mischief · 3 years

Text

Too Hot To Handle

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader Words: 1700 Warnings: sexual tension, removing of clothes to keep cool, swearing, wandering eyes, no actual smut but thots, angst, conversation about dying, brief mention of sexism Synopsis: You and Javi get trapped in an airless filing room at the embassy. Can you both keep your cool?

Fic Masterpost

You held your hands up at this one; you only had yourself to blame. Javier had told you to prop the door open with a heavy box and instead of listening, you had used your purse, got distracted with files, leaving the purse to slip and the next thing you heard was the sound of the heavy duty door slamming shut behind you.

Javier’s head shot up, a look of panic on his face as he ran to try and pry the door open.

“Steve knew we were in here Javi, he’ll realise something’s up and come find us.”

“Steve went to have lunch. With Connie.”

Your eyes widened as you finally understood his panic. If Steve was having lunch with his wife he would be in no rush to get back to the embassy.

“Shit,” you whispered, eyeing your surroundings desperately. The filing room was windowless with no visible vents, after all why would pieces of paper need oxygen to breathe? And the door had no handle on this side because who would be stupid enough to close the door behind them?

You looked to your partner, hoping he was coming up with a solution.

“I have nothing,” Javi shook his head and slumped down the wall, wrists resting on his bent knees. He looked like he had given up already.

“Someone will notice we’ve not returned to our desks, right?”

Javi raised a sceptical eyebrow. You both had a tendency to rush out unannounced based on a tip or new evidence so the likelihood of someone thinking you were stuck in a filing room was slim to none.

“Shit,” you repeated yourself, pacing back and forth with your hands on your hips. There had to be some way out of here, or a button to press in emergencies. This couldn’t be the first time someone had gotten stuck in the filing room.

“Why aren’t you trying to find a way out of here?”

“Because there isn’t one. Stop moving,” Javi chastised with a heavy sigh, “you’re using up oxygen.”

“Rude,” you muttered whilst taking a seat next to him with a sigh, “we can’t die in a glorified filing cabinet.”

Javier scoffed at the suggestion, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

After a few minutes of silence you were starting to feel the heat of the room, only made worse by the stress of the situation. You toed your boots off and pulled off your socks just as Javier reached for the buttons of his shirt. You caught his eye, giving him an awkward smile before looking away to give him some semblance of privacy.

Javier was an attractive man and the women in the office never failed to remind you of how lucky you were to work alongside him everyday, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t agree. He was ridiculously charming and polite, a little flirty but you gave as good as you got. But you had always remained professional, keeping just this side of the line of what was ‘proper’. You couldn’t go sleeping with your partner when you’d worked so hard to be taken seriously as a female agent.

You could see him unbuttoning his shirt all the way down from the corner of your eye but you resisted the urge to stare, keeping your eyes trained on a box of files across from you as he proceeded to kick his shoes off.

“Of all the ways I thought I’d die in Colombia, I didn’t think it would be like this,” Javier said bleakly. You turned then, just in time to see a drip of sweat fall from his forehead onto the collar of his pink shirt.

“Where’s your pager?”

“Desk.” Javier’s eyes bore into yours, as if contemplating whether to ask his next question. “Don’t suppose you have a boyfriend that will ask where you are?”

You furrowed your brow.

“How long have you known me? Have I ever mentioned a boyfriend?”

Javier’s shoulders sagged, whether with relief or defeat you couldn’t tell.

You felt yourself sweating more profusely as the seconds ticked by. Your blouse was beginning to soak through and your jeans was becoming uncomfortable against your hot skin.

“Take your shirt off,” Javier muttered, eyes closing as he tilted his head back against the wall.

You hesitated. It made sense to rid yourselves of as much clothing as possible, with no ventilation it was only going to get hotter and if someone did come looking for you you needed to survive until then.

Before you could talk yourself out of it you quickly removed your blouse and flicked open the top button of your jeans for a shred of relief. Javier didn’t move but the hand resting in between you was curled into a fist.

“Who would miss you if you died here?”

It was something you sometimes thought about in your line of work, usually whilst holding a bottle at the end of a bad day. Who would care if something life-threatening happened to you (which it likely would)? Who would miss you? How many people would be standing around your grave at your premature funeral? And in the case of Javier who rarely spoke about home, who was he running from? Did he have someone he called to tell them he was safe and still alive?

Javier’s eyes opened and his jaw twitched. You wouldn’t put it passed him to tell you to fuck off but maybe he’d go easy on you given your current situation.

“My Papa lives in Texas. I give him a call now and then but if he never heard back from me I don’t think he’d be surprised.”

“You underestimate your importance to people, Javi.”

Picking up your blouse, you ran it along your bare skin, collecting the sweat there in the hope it would cool you down. You felt Javier’s eyes following the movements along your arms, the dip of your breasts and your bare stomach before wiping at the beads of sweat on your brow.

“When I first came to work here, I think you’d been here only a couple of months?” Javier nodded but didn’t interrupt, “you took me under your wing like you’d been here years. I felt safe with you. I got so much stick from people and I knew the shit they were saying behind my back about how I got here. But you, you had my back. You trusted me when I had my hunches when no one else would. I’ll never forget that.”

Javier cleared his throat uncomfortably. You knew he didn’t believe you but you had to tell him anyway, if it was the last thing you said out loud, you had to let him know how much he meant to you.

“And you’re like that with everyone. You’ve got the biggest heart in the embassy, I hate that nobody sees how much you care.”

Javier elbowed you softly, leaning closer in your space despite the humidity, or despite the tension? You couldn’t be sure.

“The people who matter know I’d lay down my life for them. That’s all that matters.”

You caught Javier’s sweeping gaze and relaxed for the first time since entering the room. If you were going to die with anyone, you were glad it was Javier.

“D’you remember when I gave you a tour of the embassy on your first day?”

“You hated giving me that tour.”

Javier chuckled, not denying it.

“This was still being built.”

“This part of the building is new?”

“Nah, it was offices. We didn’t need them.”

You frowned, the cogs turning in your head at this new information. “This was an office?” Javier’s response was nothing but a hum of agreement.

“So this room used to have ventilation?”

Javier looked confused when he turned to you.

“They bricked in the windows,” he said, matter of fact.

You knew they would have done that but didn’t say anything. Instead you let your eyes roam around the room, along the walls, in each of the corners and finally over the ceiling where you found a small ray of hope.

“There,” you pointed to a tile that was out of line compared with the others, the thin metal corner lifted down the tiniest amount.

“A vent?” Javier asked hopefully.

You stood too fast in your excitement, lightheaded and wobbling until Javier steadied you with his hands on your hips from his place on the floor.

“Careful, carino.”

You took a deep breath and padded slowly towards the tile you had your eye on. Javier wheeled a step ladder over to where you stood staring at the ceiling.

“Hold it,” he ordered. You held onto the top of the ladder as he ascended it.

“Can you pull it down?” you asked, watching as Javier inspected the tile. You kept your eyes trained on the ceiling and definitely not on the gentle slope of Javier’s small belly, his narrow waist and the sliver of hair that formed a trail that went below his belt.

“I think so,” Javier grunted with the effort. You could feel the sweat running off you, your whole body was on fire and you prayed Javier had enough strength in him to do it before you collapsed from exhaustion.

With a clang of metal the tile was thrown onto the floor. Javier peaked his head into the hole in the ceiling and let out an uncharacteristic yelp of joy.

“Tunnels! I can get us out of here. You stay here.”

You nodded, feeling the energy draining out of you. Javier struggled to pull himself up so you helped by planting your hands on his ass and pushing. Any other day you would have laughed and Javier would have grumbled but as you took a seat on top of the ladder’s platform and heard the bangs of his knees crawling above you, you couldn’t care less.

When the door finally opened you were half way to passing out, head hung in your hands to try and quell the pounding in your head. You felt arms around you as Javier picked you up and you faintly registered the sounds of a comforting voice whispering in your ear. You knew you were safe before everything went black.

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @phoenixhalliwell @anu-simps @bts17army @computeringturtle

#Javier Pena #Javier Pena x Reader #narcos #Pedro Pascal

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Love You (Part Thirty-Two) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing. Unprotected sex. Wrap it before you tap it, ladies, gentlemen, and nonbinary sibs. Dom/sub relationship. Sir kink. Impregnation kink. Soft sex. Emotional sex. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, Hotch refers to them as female when saying “good girl”.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 12194

Timeline: A month after part thirty-one.

I sighed as I pushed all of Hotch’s work to the side just so that I could get to my desk in our office. Since getting out of the hospital about two weeks ago, Hotch had turned our home office into a conspiracy theory pit. He had so many pictures of Foyet, his victims, the crime scenes, the news clippings about The Reaper, and so on hung on the walls that I couldn’t even remember what color the walls were. About a week into this whole project of his was when he pulled out the red string. From there, our office became a maze. It was like I was goddamn Catherine Zeta Jones in Entrapment the way I was weaving through all of it.

But I couldn’t tell him to take it down. Hotch spent two weeks in the hospital, and then he had to spend another two weeks at home as he recovered from Foyet’s attack, underwent physical and psychological evaluations, and I practically made him go on bed rest the rest of the time. Because he wasn’t allowed to go back to work, he had to spend his time working on finding Foyet. I hated that I had to go to work every day without him because of that. I knew that this was eating at him, and I couldn’t stay around long enough to console him or talk him down. It was irritating both of us.

It had only been a month since we said goodbye to Haley and Jack, yet it felt like an eternity. My little man… Every day we were forced apart, I felt a piece of me die. Was that odd? Was it weird to miss someone else’s son like he was your own? Was it weird that I took Red, mine and Jack’s favorite dinosaur, with me everywhere? To the office, on cases, at home. Everywhere. It probably wasn’t as weird as when I would come home to find Hotch napping on Jack’s bed. That mattress was way too small for him. I mean, he would curl up on it as much as possible, and yet his feet would somehow still be hanging off the edge. But it was how he was coping. It was how we were both coping. And the worst part was, we were doing it separately.

In our line of work, Hotch and I had worked dozens of cases with parents that lost a child in a kidnapping or murder. The BAU didn’t just specialize in profiling the Unsubs and victimology—that was a large part of it, obviously, but there was an unspoken part of the job that always struck me during those kinds of cases. Parents mourning the loss of a child were profiled to inevitably always split up. Like the case we worked in Vegas just before Dallas, a son had been kidnapped while walking to a friend’s house, and the parents were slowly drifting apart. They blamed each other. They couldn’t bear to even look at each other. Getting them to cooperate with the investigation so that we could find their son was nearly impossible. Yet we weren’t shocked by that behavior, because that was how mourning couples were always profiled. I just never thought that it would happen to me and Hotch.

No one ever expects that they’re going to lose everything. No one anticipates having to say goodbye to their son. A month ago, we had to say goodbye to Jack, and we honestly weren’t sure if we were ever going to see him again. Foyet was playing the long game with us now. Who knew when he was going to turn up again with another clue so that we could find him? There was a chance that by the time we either caught up to him or he died, Jack wouldn’t know who we were, so there’d be no point in bringing him back. There was a chance that his life would be better off without us. And that was damn near impossible to admit.

However, I thought that Hotch and I were going to come to terms with all of this together. I thought that because we loved each other, and because we knew what the profiles said, that we would somehow work together to prove the profile wrong and work through this side by side. That was what I thought. I spent every day with him when he was in the hospital and I wasn’t on a case. Every single goddamn day. Yet, when he came home, he locked himself in his office, and he practically stopped looking at me altogether.

I would cry every night. I would get home from work, and there were times when I couldn’t even make it to the couch. I would just collapse right there in the entryway, and I wouldn’t get up until the sun started rising for another day. And Hotch never came to hold me. There were other times when I’d come home to hear him sobbing in the office, and I thought about going to console him, but he had locked the door. When I initially tried playing with the doorknob, Hotch immediately stopped crying. He sniffled then told me to go away. So, I stopped trying to go in after that. He stopped trying with me, so I inevitably stopped trying with him. One night, I even thought about moving out. I mean, we weren’t acting like a couple. We had proved the profile correct, and I knew that once that happened—statistically speaking—we were never going to get back together. But I still held on hope. I prayed that he would finally take a moment to realize that he could break down in front of me. I would be there to hold him when he needed it. Until then, there was nothing I could do.

The minute he was cleared to go back to work, Hotch took it. I didn’t think he would go back so soon. One, because of his injuries; two, because going back to work meant that he wouldn’t have all day, every day to pointlessly look for Foyet. He hadn’t found a single goddamn lead in a month, but he was still hacking at it. That was why I was shocked when he gave it up just to go back to the BAU. We even had an argument about it. The day he finally came out of the office to tell me he passed all of his exams, I cracked. I was so fucking pissed at him. He spent a month refusing to look at me, talk to me, sleep in the same bed as me, eat the fucking dining table with me—and then he had the fucking audacity to smile at me and say, “I’m going back to work tomorrow.”

I lost my shit. Truly. I looked back at him and said, “I don’t care what the Bureau says, I don’t want you going back yet. They’re not the ones who have to worry about you, Aaron!”

Hotch’s smile fell. “Drop it.”

I shook my head. “I know you lied during your psych evals. I know that you pushed yourself too hard during your physicals— I saw all the bloody gauze in the trash. So, don’t you dare fucking lie to me again like you did in Cincinnati, Aaron Hotchner—”

“I told you to fucking drop it!” he bellowed. I took a frightened step back. His face immediately softened. “Y/N— I’m sorry—”

“I’m going to Morgan’s house.” I looked at the floor. “I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

And that was how I ended up in the office upstairs, trying to get into my desk so that I could grab some old paperwork for reference on the case report I was currently working on. I was going to Morgan’s house, but that didn’t mean I was going to stop working. Once I had that stuff, I grabbed my spare go-bag from the closet, then made my way downstairs.

Hotch tried to step in my path at the bottom of the stairs, but I pushed past him. He was attempting to apologize profusely while following me around. I kept my head high and just moved to the front door as fast as I could. Since Foyet attacked him, Hotch had practically turned our house security system into something that rivaled the fucking security systems at the office. He had someone come in to put in a new alarm that was set at all times. If we weren’t home, all of the windows, doors, and motion sensors were set. If someone opened a door, broke a window, or moved within the house, about seven different alarms would start going off. When we were at home, only the doors and windows were set. But if we wanted to leave the house, we had to put a code into the alarm first; and when we were coming home, we had to put the code in as fast as possible before the alarms would be set off. So, while Hotch tried to make me stay, I reached around him to put my code in, then headed out.

“Y/N!” he shouted angrily at me again as he stormed into the yard. “Y/N, get back here!”

I flipped him off as I kept walking to my car. I wasn’t even going to take our car. We put my car, the one I had been using before I moved in with Hotch, in the garage sized shed at the back of the driveway, just against the fence to the backyard. It hadn’t been used in so long… I mean, if we needed to use separate cars, I’d dust mine off so that Hotch could have our car, but for the most part, we made it work with one car. This time, though, I was taking my car to make a point. He fucked up. This argument was bad, but it was more than that. This was the result of a month’s worth of fuck ups, and I was sick of it.

I didn’t want to leave him. I loved Hotch more than anything, and I was still convinced that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, even when things were bad like this. But I couldn’t stay. Not when I could see that he was ruining his own life for nothing. I told him in Cincinnati that I wouldn’t tolerate him fucking up his own health for selfish reasons. He promised me that he wouldn’t pull this shit again. And yet… There we were… He was fucking it all up again. And I just couldn’t take it. I couldn’t watch him slowly deteriorate. I loved him too much to do that to either of us.

“Y/N—” he banged on my window as I slowly backed out of the driveway. “I’m sorry, please. Baby… Come on… I’m sorry. Stop this. I get it— I shouldn’t have yelled— Baby— I’m sorry—” He had to stop hitting his palms against my windows as the car turned onto the road. He slammed his hands as hard as he could onto the hood of the car. “Goddammit, Y/N! Get out of the fucking car!” I stared him down because he wasn’t moving out of the way. “Stop this, baby,” he pleaded calmly. “Just come home.” I shook my head. He frowned again, his eyes glinting a slight dark red as anger overtook him again. “Get out of the car,” he demanded once more, making his way over to my car door to try and pry it open, even though it was locked. The second he wasn’t in front of the car, though, I laid my foot down on the gas and raced off.

When I got to Morgan’s house, I explained everything, and he set me up in his guest room. This wasn’t the first time I had sought asylum in his house. Since Hotch wasn’t there to comfort me, I had to turn to the only other person who could, and that was Morgan. Granted, this was the first time I was sleeping over. But still. There were plenty of afternoons when I’d detour to his house after work just to cry on his couch as he held me. If I would wake up in the middle of the night with a nightmare of finding Hotch dead on our living room floor, I’d drive over to Morgan’s house and cry on his couch until I could calm down. It was unfair to Morgan. I recognized that. He was his own man with his own life and problems, and there I was, always barging in unannounced to unload my problems. But where else was I going to go? There were times when I thought about how much I missed Elle, and I wanted her to be there for me in moments like this, but she was gone. She abandoned me… and… she wasn’t coming back, apparently. Morgan was all I had.

As it got late, and we both needed to rest, he offered to stay and sleep with me, but I told him I’d be fine. He reluctantly obeyed (not for the reason most people would assume). It was no secret that Derek Morgan was a “playa”, to put it in his terms. He liked getting into the pants of any and every girl that would give him consent, and he liked teasing Garcia in a… less than platonic way, and sometimes we would do that, too, but not really. That being said, Derek Morgan would never, ever take advantage of someone, especially when they were as vulnerable as I was that night. He only offered to sleep in the same bed as me because that was how close we were, and he was willing to comfort me if I needed it. But I knew that I needed some space and time to think, and he needed some sleep in order to be ready for work the next day. So, when I turned him down, he gave in. He kissed my temple, squeezed my shoulders in a tight side embrace, then left the room quietly, carefully closing it behind him.

When he was gone, I opened my go-bag to pull out my pajamas. Yet, when I saw what I had packed away in there, I froze. I had packed this so long ago. I grabbed the first bag I saw. I didn’t even think to check what was in it. I was so fucking stupid. Unfortunately, however, there was nothing I could do about it now. I just had to suck it up and wear them, because it was either wearing what I packed or wearing what I left the house in. Either way, I was not going back just to pick up a different pair of pajamas.

I sighed. Unenthusiastically, I stripped myself of my clothes, then changed into one of Hotch’s old college sweatshirts and a pair of his blue and gold flannel pajama pants to match. I was planning on getting him another pair for his birthday in the next few weeks because I stole his, and I felt bad because of that. Also, because I had originally stolen these and put them in my go-bag recently after the stabbing, figuring that I needed something of his with me on cases while I was gone and he was at home. I had Jack’s red dinosaur toy with me at all times, I just needed Hotch’s clothing with me, too, considering that was the extent of the attention I got from him. But now… Things were just too confusing. I was upset that I didn’t just pack my own goddamn clothes.

That being said, I still cuddled under the blankets, and I pulled the collar of the sweatshirt over my nose to keep me warm while also taking in his scent. Within the past year or so, Hotch had given up his familiar Aqua Velva scent in exchange for a cinnamon and pine. He had gone into his closet one day, pulled out all of my favorite items of his to steal, took them outside, then practically drenched them in the cologne once he knew I liked it. I didn’t know until I came home from dinner with Emily one night to find that the entire fucking house reeked of cinnamon and pine. It took a while for the neighborhood to air out, but once it did, I was left with Hotch’s scent attached to each article of clothing, and I loved it. That night, while lying in a strange bed without the love of my life beside me, I found that my only comfort was that scent. I hugged my torso and inhaled.

I knew that he was sorry. I knew that he didn’t mean for any of this to happen. And, honestly, I knew that neither of us meant for things to blow up the way they did. But now that they had, I wasn’t sure where to go from there, how to navigate all of this. We couldn’t go back to normal. Could we? I’d be the first to admit that he scared me earlier. I knew that he would never hurt me, but deep down, in the pit of my stomach, I was terrified of him. After not having his love for so long, his outburst… It took me aback. There was a moment there, when he shouted at me the first time, I saw a glimpse of that night in high school, and I heard him yelling at me for not cooperating. That was why I had to leave. It wasn’t Hotch’s fault. My mind was playing tricks on me, but I couldn’t let it ruin the one good thing I had in my life: Aaron Hotchner. I just needed some time and space.

Time. And. Space.

That was what I asked for when I arrived at Quantico the next day. Morgan and I drove in at the same time, then he met me at the elevator after we both went through security, and he asked me if I wanted back up (or a mediator) while talking to Hotch. As we stepped into the elevator, I denied his offer quietly. Upstairs, in the BAU, Reid and Emily were trying to show me pictures of Henry, JJ’s son. She had him shortly after Hotch was stabbed. And by shortly, I meant that we hadn’t even left the fucking hospital yet when she went into labor. But now she was itching to get back to work, and I was shocked. It had only been a few weeks. I thought that the human body literally couldn’t handle getting back to work that fast, but maybe she wasn’t looking to work in the field quite yet. I understood if she just wanted to sit in the office to do paperwork around Anderson or hang out in Garcia’s office for a bit. I could understand that. I just thought that she would want to spend more time with Will and Henry, but who was I to judge her? I promised I would never do that after she judged me—and, yes, it was so that I could prove that I was the better person, I wasn’t afraid to admit that.

I headed straight into Hotch’s office. I found that he was sitting on his couch, his head in his hands, an old picture of him, Jack, and Haley in his lap. As I snuck closer, I saw that he had printed a picture of me and him out, and he had it taped to the bottom corner of that picture frame. Our family. Our story. Our everything.

I cleared my throat to let him know that I was there. “Sorry, I’ll come back later.”

Hotch looked up from his hands. When he realized that I was really standing there in front of him, he threw the photos to the side and jumped to his feet. “No, wait—” He hurried over to me. “Please.”

I stopped. “Okay.”

“Baby, I am so sorry.” He wasn’t getting close enough to put a hand on me, which I silently appreciated. “I didn’t mean to yell or get worked up. I’ve just been so worried—”

“Aaron, I really didn’t come to make up.”

His posture changed to something more shy and confused. “What?”

“I’m sorry… But, I, uh… I’m just here as an employee right now.”

Hotch searched my eyes for a moment while he tried to understand what was happening. I wasn’t looking him in the eye, I wasn’t trying to impress him with anything, and I wasn’t even trying to give us privacy by closing the door. In fact, I didn’t want privacy. I didn’t want to give him a chance to try to hug or kiss me. With the blinds and door still open, he had to obey the rules we created for ourselves at work, and I could tell that it was killing him, but I was there for a specific reason, and it wasn’t because I was ready to hear his apology yet. He might have felt he was ready for it, but I wasn’t.

“Okay,” Hotch said while he nodded. He moved to take a seat at his desk. “Sit.” He gestured to the empty seats across from him. “What’s this about?”

“I’m requesting a few personal days off.”

“Why?”

“You’re not supposed to ask me that, Agent Hotchner.”

His eyes narrowed at me. “It’s my job, Agent Greenaway, to ensure that my team is okay both physically and mentally.”

“Well, I’m fine, Agent Hotchner, thank you for checking on me.”

“Stop this, Y/N. Please.”

“I can formally request this time off through Chief Strauss, if need be.”

He hesitated as his brown eyes added a red tint of anger. “That’ll not be necessary.”

“So, you’ll give it to me?”

“Only if you tell me why.”

“You know why.”

“Why?” he asked with a hiss. The tension was growing in the room.

“I just need to clear my head.”

“That’s not good enough!” he exclaimed angrily. I could see that he was holding himself back from hitting the table or swiping his papers off the desk. “What’s this really about? Is it really about our argument, Y/N? Can we please, for a minute, just stop dancing around the truth and say what we feel—”

My blood boiled over. “You’re not the only one who lost a son, Aaron!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. There was a moment where we stared at each other as we both realized what I had said. I was shaking so bad. A thought passed by me that maybe I should have stopped there, left it alone, gone home to take another breather. But I wasn’t wrong. Jack was my son, too. I lost him, too. I was hurting, too. And I needed Hotch there to hold me, but he wasn’t. So, I continued, “I was right there with you when we saw him for the last time. You aren’t the only one suffering here, Hotch. I wake up every day and I wish that I could turn the corner in our home and see him sitting at the table, eating Cheerios for breakfast. I wish that we could still take him to soccer every Saturday. And I fucking wish that I could keep spoiling him even though you tell me not to. I love your son like he’s my own, Aaron. I know he’s not mine, and I know that he never will be… but, damn it, I love you and I love him. And the fact that we’re both mourning over losing him to this asshole, and I’m trying to be there for you, but you keep pushing me away when I need you, too… That’s cruel. It’s unfair. I have never felt more alone than I have over the past month. You need to get your shit together, and I need some time to come to terms with the fact that I may never see Jack again. So, I’ll ask you again, may I please have some time off?”

He paused while staring at me. I could see a sparkle in his eyes that came from the tears welling, the apologetic and deeply sorry tears. It broke my heart to see him like that. It absolutely tore me in half to see him cry because of something I said… but what else was I supposed to do? He wanted me to tell him the truth, so I did. It hurt to do it, but it was necessary, and now that he knew just how horrible he had been, I could tell that he didn’t want to be angry anymore. Now that he understood, I realized that he just wanted to hold me and apologize until he couldn’t breathe. But I still needed time. As much as I would’ve loved to be in his arms, kissing him, telling him that I’d always love him… I needed time away to clear my head. I needed time away from him to come to terms with the loss we had.

“Where are you going to go?” he croaked.

I lied and said that I was going to stay at a hotel for a few days before returning to work; but we both clearly knew that I was staying with Morgan. I wanted to be with someone I trusted. I wanted to be with someone I loved. I didn’t want to be alone. Morgan’s house was a safe haven for me whenever I needed it, and I usually didn’t take him up on the offer, but now I was in desperate need of it.

“Okay,” Hotch gave in. “Take all the time you need. But… Y/N… I need you to know that you will always have a place here, and you will always have a place back at home with me.”

I stared at him for another second before pushing myself out of my seat. “I’ll see you in a few days, Agent Hotchner.”

After leaving Hotch’s office, I saw that the entire office was staring at me. Maybe I should’ve closed the door, in hindsight. Nothing to do about it now, though. They all heard every single word, and now they couldn’t look away from the train wreck that was Y/N Greenaway and Aaron Hotchner. I was sure that somewhere out there, wherever he was, Jason Gideon was laughing and saying: “I told you so.” No one else in the office seemed to be thinking that, especially after the screaming match I just had with our boss, but I knew that Gideon was chuckling somewhere in the world.

I started my walk of shame down the ramp. Even Rossi had come out of his office to lean against his doorframe while watching me, probably waiting for a perfect opportunity to sneak into Hotch’s office to comfort him— or maybe even talk some sense into him. I hoped that it was the latter.

A few days later, I heard the front door of Morgan’s place open up. I turned on the couch to see an exhausted Morgan throw his used go-bag onto the floor, then crash onto the empty couch space next to me. He sighed and rested his head on my lap. He had been away on a case since the day I left Hotch’s office after we argued. We had been texting since he left because he wanted to make sure I was alright and that I was taking care of Clooney, his German Shepard. I loved that dog. I thought he was adorable—and he was so well behaved. He rested at my feet on the bed every night to keep me company. It was nice to have company, even though Morgan was away and I wasn’t talking to Hotch.

“You know, I’ll leave and go to a hotel, if you want me to. I don’t mean to just… intrude on your life,” I said after giving him a moment to relax.

Morgan looked up at me upside down. “Never.” He smirked, “Unless you’re going to be living here any longer than a month, in which case, you need to start paying rent.”

I matched his smirk, “No. I just need a couple more days, I think. If that.”

He nodded understandingly. “You wanna order take out for dinner?”

“Sure.”

He did a sit up before standing on his feet and hurrying over to the house phone so that he could order dinner for us. I sighed and relaxed in Hotch’s sweatshirt. It was starting to smell less and less like him, which only made me more desperate to get home. But I liked the freedom I had been experiencing over the past few days. With the time I got to spend on my own in silence, I got to think about how much I missed my little man, while coming to terms with the fact that this was the best choice—the only choice we could make. Sending them away in order to protect them was the right thing to do. Jack was safe with Haley. They were safe under Sam’s protection. Coming to terms about that much was hard while I was around Hotch, who was only moping around all day. Now that some time had passed, I was a bit calmer about the situation, and I was just ready to get our family back. But I still needed another day or two, just for good measure. After that, I’d race to apologize profusely to Hotch, begging for him to take me back after running away like that. I felt like a bitch, okay. Maybe it was a bit overdramatic to run away, but at the time, I didn’t know what else to do. But now that the tension had sizzled out and I was clear headed about the situation, I realized how sorry I was for leaving in the first place.

When the food arrived, Morgan and I sat crisscross on the couch while facing each other and talking about whatever came to mind. At some point, casual talk turned to work talk. As it always did. I asked him to tell me about the case the team just got back from, and he told me that they had dealt with an Unsub who was drowning his victims in methanol in order to get rid of their stench. When I asked how it ended, he hesitated.

“Morgan?”

He gulped and told me that Hotch took off his vest, handed his gun to Rossi, then went inside to negotiate a peaceful surrender with the Unsub. My eyes shot wide. Why the fuck did Hotch do that? Why would he— I didn’t understand. How could he be so stupid? How could he risk his life like that? How could he risk leaving me and Jack behind? How was I supposed to live with the fact that we ended on bad terms if something were to have happened to him?

“What happened?” I asked, frightened.

Morgan pushed his food around in order to give himself a reason to not look at me. “The Unsub shot the girl, ran away, got in his cab, and we started chasing after him. Half of the city was looking for him, Y/N, yet, somehow, Hotch was the one who found him. The guy tried speeding off again to get away from Hotch, but when Hotch shot at him, he crashed into a truck, immediately killing him.”

“Is Hotch okay?” I leaned forward to express my eagerness for a positive answer. He hesitated again. “Derek Morgan, you tell me right now—”

“He’s okay, Y/N.”

I relaxed and let out a breath. “Good.”

“But…”

My eyes shot up at him. “But?”

“Strauss temporarily promoted me to Unit Chief.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Hotch isn’t fit to be in a position of power right now, sunshine. We both know that. He isn’t fit to lead a team right now.” He set his food on the table next to us. “Strauss and Rossi made the decision when we got off the plane.” He grabbed my hands. “It’s just until Hotch is back to being Hotch, honey bunches, I promise.”

I scoffed. “And how long do you think that’ll be?”

“I’m not sure. But I think that if you went back to work, it might help some.” His eyes pouted at me. “He has nothing to live for right now, Y/N. You left, Jack and Haley are gone, Foyet’s taunting him, and his ability to do this job is… being questioned. Having you around, as you are, it might remind him that he still has everything to live for.”

I understood that he couldn’t read my mind. I knew that he couldn’t’ve possibly known that I had already decided that I was going to go back to work soon, so it made sense that he felt he needed to tell me that Hotch’s best chance was going back. So, I gave in just for the sake of making Morgan feel like he did something.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed early,” I said quietly.

“What? No—Y/N, I didn’t mean to upset you or—”

“Morgan, it’s not your fault.” I set my food to the side. “I, um… Tomorrow… It’s just going to be a long day, so I should get some extra sleep.”

“Sugar, I really didn’t mean to—”

“Tomorrow is Jack’s birthday.”

He immediately fell silent, his shoulders giving out his posture when he realized he had pried too far. He apologized quietly. I opened my mouth to tell him that I didn’t care about his prying, but it got caught in my throat when a sob bubbled up a little too far. I excused myself before running to “my” room.

I crashed onto the bed. As I pulled the covers up over my body, hiding my head from the world, I grabbed my phone and opened the Photos app. The sob I was holding back finally crashed through me when I saw a picture of Hotch and Jack cuddling in the hammock in our backyard. Hotch had been laying out there after work, watching Jack play soccer. By the time dinner was ready, I went outside to collect them, only to find that Jack had given up on kicking the ball around so that he could lay on his dad’s chest. Hotch’s arms were wrapped around Jack’s entire body. They were dead asleep, probably had been for at least an hour. I couldn’t bother them when they were like that. So, I took a picture, then let them be. Finally, when it got too cold, they came inside, Jack still half asleep in his dad’s arms as he was carried upstairs to his room.

That was such a perfect night. We had dozens of nights like that, where the small, random things were taken for granted. Now that we didn’t have Jack, I wished I could go back in time. I wished that I would’ve just sat outside on the patio while drinking my wine, feeling the way my heart swelled as they snored together, the hammock rocking under them.

I reached over for Red, mine and Jack’s favorite toy, and I pulled it close to my chest. Tomorrow was going to be horrible to bear alone.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Morgan knocking on my door. I groaned and rolled over to check my phone for the time. That was when I realized that I hadn’t charged it all night. I went to bed around three, my eyelids too heavy from crying for so long. Since I hadn’t plugged my phone in, it was obviously dead. I groaned again. The door opened once Morgan heard me shuffling around on the bed. I hid my puffy face under the comforter while simultaneously trying to trick him into thinking that I was asleep. I felt like Jack. Jack… It was officially his birthday. I mean, I had been awake when the clock struck midnight, but this was different. The sun was out, the birds were chirping, and Morgan was telling me that he was leaving for work. It truly was Jack’s birthday now. There was no escaping it.

The mattress sank slightly as Morgan sat next to me. He put a hand on my shoulder, then leaned down to kiss the top of my head. “I’ll see you when I get home—if we’re not called away on a case.” He made a move to stand.

I grabbed his hand, revealing my red and swollen eyes. “Take it easy on Hotch today. Don’t let anyone give him a hard time. Please.”

“I’ll try.”

He kissed my forehead gently again, then silently stood and left the room, making sure to reclose the door behind him on his way out. I huffed and slumped back onto the pillows, feeling the way I sunk into the comfort of the blankets, the mattress, and the feather pillows. My relaxation didn’t last long, though, because the next thing I knew, the sound of scratching on the door disturbed me. I rolled out of bed and opened the door so that Clooney could run in. He jumped onto my bed and nuzzled his nose under the blankets. I smiled. At least I had someone to keep me busy during the day.

I was reminded of my dead phone on the bed when Clooney kicked it by accident. I plugged it in without hesitating another second. While I waited for it to charge, I played with Clooney’s long hair. He got riled up after a few seconds, deciding to playfully attempt to bite me while I waved my hand in his face. When I heard my phone chime, I booped his nose, then turned to pick it up.

Two missed calls.

I scrolled the rest of my notifications to realize that it was Emily and Anderson who had attempted to contact me. I didn’t want to hear from them, though. Anderson was probably calling on behalf of Hotch, meanwhile Emily was only going t o try to convince me to return to work sooner. I wished that I was a telepath so I could just tell everyone what I was thinking, that way they would leave me alone. I was planning on going back to work soon. I had been over it a hundred times in my head. But if people kept bothering me about it, I was just going to be more reluctant about it.

An hour later, my phone started buzzing again. I pet Clooney as he shuffled onto my lap. My phone just kept buzzing, however, as another call came through. I cursed under my breath, then stretched to pick it up, recognizing the photo and the name flashing on the screen almost immediately. I waited a second. Morgan must have talked to him. After seeing me glued to the bed, left to nothing but a puddle of tears, Morgan probably went straight to Hotch, told him that I was suffering today, and Hotch decided to finally call me after all this time.

I answered.

Silence echoed throughout my room as I waited for something to happen. Even Clooney stilled. It had been so long, I wasn’t sure who should speak first, or if I should even speak at all. I was terrified of saying the wrong thing. After how things ended between us the last time we saw each other, I knew that what I said was wrong. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes. I didn’t want to push him away further than he already was.

And then it happened.

“Hey,” I heard his voice for the first time in about a week.

I nearly melted. “Hey,” I whispered back.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. “I’m fine. Are you?”

He hesitated before changing the subject. “I know that I’m not supposed to be calling—”

“It’s okay.”

Hotch hesitated another second. “It’s, um,” he cleared his throat, “it’s Jack’s birthday today.”

“I didn’t forget.”

Of course, I didn’t. How could I when our dinosaur had been sitting on my bed all day, staring at me, and I broke down every time I glanced at it. Jack had been so excited to spend his birthday with us. He was going to have a party at Chuck-E-Cheese with his friends, as disgusting as it was. We were going to get Spider-Man and Superman balloons, superhero themed paper plates, cups, and silverware. I was going to buy a set of Spider-Man walkie talkies for him and his dad to use, or maybe one of those Bat Signal toys so that he could flash it up at the sky whenever he was thinking of us when we were at work. I had all of these ideas to make that day special for him, but George Foyet took that all away. There were going to be no pictures of Jack blowing out his birthday candles, or opening his gifts, or hugging his dad after we wished him a happy birthday. There were going to be no memories of him running around Chuck-E-Cheese with his friends, bragging about how many tickets he got, and Hotch telling him that he was proud. There were going to be no conversations of me trying to convince him to get one prize or another. And there wasn’t going to be a single argument between me and Hotch about me spoiling Jack too damn much. That happiness left when Foyet practically stole him away from us.

“When are you coming home, Y/N? I know I shouldn’t ask, but…”

“I thought about coming home tomorrow, actually.”

“Can I see you before then?”

“Aaron, I…”

“Sam called to tell me that he had to move Haley and Jack again. Apparently, she’s been calling her dad and Jessica.”

I sighed and hid my face in my left palm. This day was already hard enough, but to just keep digging at the hole in my heart wasn’t helping. I thought that, of all people, Haley would do anything to protect Jack. George Foyet was a psychopath with a mission. Why would she risk Jack’s safety just to call her Roy and sister when Sam had told her a thousand times that she couldn’t be in contact with anyone until we found Foyet.

“Are they okay?” I asked.

“They're fine. Sam sent me a video of Jack playing on the swings this morning. He looks… happy.”

“He—” I hesitated to think about it. We hadn’t heard Jack’s voice in so long… We hadn’t seen his bright face in what felt like forever. We hadn’t gotten to hear his laugh since the day Foyet took him from us. A tear slid down my cheek as I considered it. “Could you hear him? See him?”

“Yeah,” Hotch said quietly. “It’s fuzzy, and it’s at a distance, but he says your name. He says he misses you.” Another tear escaped me. “I’d like to show it to you… You don’t have to stay long, just come into the office for a bit. I… I really just…” He cleared his throat again, trying to hold back an obvious sob building in his throat. “I need to hold you. Just for a bit today. I need it really bad, Y/N.”

A tear slid down my cheek. I needed him, too. No matter how mad I was with him, no matter how upset he made me after our blow up, there was only one thing that could make this day somewhat bearable. It was the same thing that Hotch needed. Being in his arms was the only thing that could ever really comfort me nowadays, and I thought earlier about how I needed him to hold me to make the day easier. I thought that he wouldn’t want to see me. After how things ended the last time we saw each other, I thought he would never want to see me again. I had said some pretty hurtful things. Though I meant them, it didn’t erase that they probably stung him to hear.

“I need you, too,” I whispered.

I heard him let out a quiet cry. “Come home to me, baby. Please.”

“I’m coming.” I stood from the bed and raced to grab my purse. “I’m coming, baby.”

His voice perked up, “I love you so much.”

I changed before driving to the office. I had been stuck in Hotch’s pajamas for days, which wasn’t exactly… attractive, and I definitely didn’t smell good. Maybe that was why Clooney was so fond of me. Changing was also important because I was heading to my place of work. I wasn’t going to be a visitor there. I couldn’t exactly show up in a sweatshirt and pajama pants. So, I used what I had in my go-bag to look work-ready, then I headed off to the office.

The parking lot security didn’t recognize my vehicle since I was arriving in my old one. The fact that they didn’t recognize it only prolonged my wait to see Hotch again. They had to check my credentials, then give me a new parking pass for the car—and the whole thing was just a fucking mess. But the second they let me past the barricade, I sped towards the closest parking spot I could find to the building, parked, then ran inside. Security welcomed me with smiles and innocent questions, just like they always did. They were an awesome group of people that were absolutely underappreciated by the agents in our building. There were times when they told me that Garcia and I were two of the only people who ever even acknowledged them, let alone took time out of our days to get to know them. As always, I told them that it was my pleasure, but the second the niceties were over, I ran to the elevator down the hall.

As the elevator opened to reveal the sixth floor, I squeezed through the doors. Garcia was walking out of the BAU, a fresh cup of coffee in her hand. She froze when she saw me, a smile lighting up her face, and I tried smiling back as much as I could even though all of my energy was focused on getting to Hotch. She must have realized what was going on because she held the glass door open for me. I thanked her as I snaked by.

Everyone in the bullpen stopped and turned when Reid spotted me first. I smiled and waved as I kept my head down and maintained my clear path up the ramp, leading towards Hotch’s office. Emily tried calling out my name, but Morgan hushed her and I kept moving. It was nothing against her, but I was there for a singular purpose: Aaron Hotchner.

“Hi,” I said, stumbling into his office. I was so out of breath from running there. I was panting behind my forced smile.

Hotch looked up from the files on his desk. “Hi.”

“I want to see him. I want to see my little man.” My eyes were already watering up, a desperate plea for Hotch’s help to ease my breaking heart. “Please.”

“Close the blinds and lock the door.”

I nodded and turned to do so. Because Hotch and I technically weren’t supposed to have any kind of contact with Haley and Jack, no one else could see the video we were sent. If WITSEC changed their appearance and someone saw, it could put them in danger. If there was anything revealing in that video about where they had been before they were moved because Haley had been in contact with her dad, then it could put them in danger. Hotch and I couldn’t take that risk.

When I was done, I sat down in one of the empty seats across from Hotch. He turned his computer so that it was facing down the width of the desk, giving Hotch and I equal opportunity to see the screen and the video that was queued up. Even while the video was paused, I could see Jack on the swings, his legs kicked out since he had just gotten enough momentum to move forwards, and he was about to go flying back. I grabbed Hotch’s hand from the spacebar, tangling my fingers with his. Both of our breaths hitched.

“Are you sure—”

I nodded. “Do it.”

Hotch pressed the spacebar, then flipped his hand over so that he could hold my hand better. The video began. Jack started swinging back, his legs tucked under the seat. He was laughing. He was laughing, and kicking, and he looked like he was having so much fun. Haley pushed him forward again. He giggled and gave a “whoo” as he flew through the air again.

“It’s time!” Sam called from behind the camera.

Haley looked over with worry since Jack couldn’t see her. He was still having the time of his life, despite the fact that Sam and Haley were both telling him that it was time to get off the swings so that they could leave. Jack dragged his sneakers on the dirt beneath him to slow his momentum. After a few light, useless swings, Jack came to a stop, so he could safely jump off. Haley took his hand. He smiled up at her before he started skipping alongside her on their way to meet Sam at the car in the parking lot.

“Can we see Dad and Y/N now?” Jack asked.

I let out a sob, my face falling carefully against the desk. Hotch reached out to pet my hair back comfortingly, helping me through each of the tears that slid down my cheeks and every single whine that left my throat.

“No, baby, we’re not going home yet,” Haley said.

“But I want to see Y/N!” he complained. “I miss them.”

I tilted my head so that my cheek was pressed against the cold wood of the desk, but also so that I could glue my gaze back to the screen.

“I know, Jack,” she said while picking him up. “But we have to go somewhere else for our trip. Aren’t you excited?”

“Where are we going?”

The was when the video cut out.

“No, wait—” I gasped, sitting up straight. “There has to be more. That can’t be it.”

“That’s all of it, baby,” Hotch said apologetically.

“Play it again.”

Hotch did so. The video started replaying, Jack’s laugh echoing throughout the room. And then it was over faster than it was the first time, somehow. I sighed and let my head fall against the desk again.

“Come on, baby, don’t do that,” Hotch begged.

“I’m so sorry, Aaron. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

“No. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”

“It’s not—”

“It all goes back to that night in the hotel, Y/N. If I would’ve just taken the deal, none of this would be happening to us.”

“Stop,” I insisted while sitting up and sniffling. “I don’t blame you.”

He handed me a tissue from the box next to his elbow. “I’m sorry for being an asshole. I was blinded by hatred for Foyet and the need for revenge that I didn’t see how much of a douchebag I was being while you were suffering, too. It was insensitive of me, baby, and I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

I dodged his apology after a moment of silence. “Are you okay?” I asked. “You know… with missing Jack’s birthday for the first time?”

Hotch had never missed mine, Jack, or Haley’s birthdays before. There were times when we had to miss other holidays, but never a birthday. Ever. That was a day special to that person, and Hotch always wanted to celebrate it with them. When it came to Jack, that urge was even stronger. Jack was apart of this world because of Hotch. He stayed by Haley’s side for hours as she endured labor, and from that pain, they gained a little sunshine, a little miracle of their own. He wouldn’t have missed Jack’s birthday for the world. It was a memory of the good times, and a reminder that Hotch had a reason to live. He had a son. He wanted to celebrate that day every single year. But this time… There was no one to celebrate with, and it was noticeable.

He shook his head. “No. But that’s why I called you. I had to see you again and make things right.” We both took a deep breath, clearing away our tears and our overwhelming emotions. Hotch stood from his seat and slowly walked around his desk, taking a knee beside my chair. “I am sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll ever stop apologizing for what I did. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I shouldn’t have chased after you like that. I know I scared you, and I’m sorry. You know that I would never lay a hand on you, right?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life making this up to you, Y/N, I just know it.” He took my hand in his. “I could make excuses all day—like how I was just frustrated about how our family is falling apart, and I’m upset the Foyet took the time to specifically go through our house in order to search for the one thing he knew would hurt most to steal… the ring I was going to give you.”

When Hotch and I first met Foyet, we thought that he was just another victim of The Reaper—that he was one of the lucky ones that got away. We were convinced because he distracted us with the one thing that meant everything to us: love. He begged me to not let The Reaper put Amanda’s engagement ring on his next victim. He cried about how he didn’t want that good memory to be ruined by The Reaper. In the end, though, The Reaper put the ring on one of his next victims, and I felt horrible about having broken my promise to Foyet… Only to find out that it was all a lie. It was a facade in order to fuck with us. I didn’t appreciate it. None of us did. He made it personal, and we were all pissed. But what upset me the most was the fact that he knew that using the detail of the engagement ring against me and Hotch would work. That was also how and why he knew to go straight for ours the night he stabbed Hotch.

Now, all I could do was hope and pray that he wouldn’t get the chance to put that ring on anyone’s body. I wanted that ring to be mine. I wanted Hotch to be down on one knee, as he was just then while apologizing to me, and I wanted him to slide that ring onto my finger as I told him: “Yes, I’ll marry you, Aaron Hotchner!” It was my dream. I wanted to call Aaron Hotchner my husband. And I wanted it to be that very ring that he went out of his way to buy after I babied him all the way home from Cincinnati. I wanted to be his. It actually didn’t matter which ring I ended up wearing—or even if I would have one at all. I just wanted to be his, and only his. Getting the ring back was just an added bonus because it came with a free side of “Fuck you, George Foyet”, accompanied with a middle finger.

“I could make those excuses,” he continued, “and I want to… But I won’t. I take full responsibility for my actions. I recognize that what I did was wrong. I shouldn’t have shut you out. I shouldn’t have abandoned you. And I definitely shouldn’t have snapped at you when all you were doing was trying to help me and knock some sense into me.”

“I don’t want you to spend the rest of our lives apologizing, Aaron. I already forgive you. I just want you to spend every second of every day loving me unconditionally. Holding me like this…” I released his hands so that I could grab his face. He grabbed mine, too. “Kissing me like this…” I pressed my lips against his gingerly. “Telling me you love me…”

“I love you…” he whispered.

“It’s music to my ears,” I said, leaning my forehead against his.

Hotch hands snaked under my hips so that he could grab my ass, then lift me out of my seat. I flung my arms around his neck to make sure I wouldn’t fall out of his hold. When he had me out of my chair, I crossed my legs around his waist, feeling his erection pressing against me through both of our pants. We moaned simultaneously. Next thing I knew, to make sure he wouldn’t drop me, Hotch set me down on the edge of his desk.

“Are you—” he tried asking before I cut him off with another kiss. He pulled away. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“What about the rules?”

“Fuck the rules. Aaron, I need this,” I said desperately, rather than seductively.

Of course, I needed him, but I mainly needed the idea of fucking him—of finally sharing that connection with him again after so long of not being anywhere near him. I needed the physical reminder that we loved each other. I didn’t doubt our love or passion, but that didn’t erase the feeling I had growing in the pit of my stomach, and it certainly didn’t make me forget just how wet I was for him already.

“We don’t have to if you’re not ready yet, or if our emotions are too fried—”

“Are you not sure?”

He stared at me for a moment. “I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

I leaned up to kiss him again. “Then, fuck me, Sir.”

Hotch’s lips crashed passionately against mine, his tongue immediately sliding into my mouth, claiming the dominance I loved so much. I grinded my hips against his. He moaned in response, bucking his hips forward, too. My palms dragged down his neck, gliding over his purple button up dress shirt, making their way slowly down to his belt. As my fingers fiddled with the metal clasp, Hotch leaned against me so that he could clear the space on his desk behind me before pushing my back down. I got his buckle undone just in time. Hotch finished the rest of it. He eagerly unbuttoned his pants, then pushed down his zipper. As he stepped out of his pants, I fidgeted with the waistband of mine, waiting for the perfect opportunity to push them down to my ankles. Hotch caught the hint before I could get very far. He yanked my pants and panties down with one fowl swoop, leaving me completely exposed to him.

“Fuck—” I wiggled my hips around to gesture for more. Hotch ran his left pointer finger up my slit, starting at my dripping entrance, working his way up slowly to my throbbing clit. I jerked around when he circled it. “Sir…”

“I don’t want manners right now, Y/N. I just want you.” He cupped my cheeks with his palms so that he could hold me still before kissing me as roughly as he could. “You have to be quiet.”

“I know.”

He nodded. “Okay.” He reached between us in order to push his boxers down to his ankles. “Hold onto me. Please.”

I obeyed, bracing my hands on his shoulders. As he lined his tip up with my entrance, I bit my lip to bar myself from moaning his name as loud as I could. Instead, I opted to whimper, “I want you inside me—” I gasped and let my body fall limp against the desk as he pushed into me slowly. “Aaron…”

“You’re so tight, baby girl. Always so tight and wet for me.” He threw his head back while snapping his hips back, then forward as roughly as he had the strength for.

I saw his muscles tightened under his shirt, and that was when a thought struck me. “You have another shirt in your go-bag, right?”

Hotch thrusted into me again before he realized what it was that I had asked him. He paused. “Why?” I didn’t answer. “Yeah, I have another—” I grabbed onto the seam of buttons lining his chest, and then I yanked them apart. Hotch groaned, thrusting into me as I did so. I screwed my eyes shut and threw my head back in euphoria before I could even get a look at Hotch, like I wanted. “Fuck, baby girl…” He gripped my hips harder. I looked up at him with a smirk, excited to finally see him, but then I froze. Hotch noticed how my face well. “What is it?” he asked as he slowed then stopped.

“Aaron,” I hesitated, my fingers hovering only millimeters from his chest. He stopped to follow my gaze, quickly realizing that this was the first time that I was laying my eyes on his scars. Foyet did that to him… I wanted to cry. “I could have lost you…”

“Look at me,” he whispered as he grabbed my chin between his fingers. My eyes fluttered as I looked up at him through my lashes and foggy eyes. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Ever. I promise.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling him move inside me as he leaned over me. For the first time, I finally felt my hands touch his scars, running over the bumps and cuts. The stitches had been gone for a while, but I could still feel the irritation. I never knew that it was this bad. How was I supposed to know when he had been working tirelessly towards making sure I never found out?

“I love you,” I croaked, letting him pull me in for a kiss.

He thrust his hips forward at a gentle, loving pace. “I love you, too.”

I grabbed onto his shoulders, my fingers digging into his back slightly. With that silent encouragement, Hotch’s hands took ahold of my hips and he started fucking me roughly. I moaned against his collarbone, my legs falling off of him so that he could increase his pace without being held back by me. I propped my feet on the edge of his desk, and my back fell against the wood entirely. Hotch’s hands moved upwards, stopping just on my breasts. He cupped, massaged, and squeezed them as he continued to fuck me as hard as he could. My hands fell from his shoulders, and I ran my fingers over his scars again. I used to be so obsessed with his chest and how he flexed when he’d fuck me like this, but now, I was so scared of looking or touching because I didn’t want to hurt him. I knew that he wasn’t fragile, especially with the strength of every pump he was giving me, but I was still hesitant. I felt like with one wrong move, he could fall apart, and maybe it would be all my fault.

“I can’t lose you,” I whispered, moving to press my palm against his face.

He leaned down and kissed me. I moaned into his mouth as he gave me another passionate thrust that said: “I’m here, my love, and I’m not going anywhere.” I scratched at his back. I couldn’t do anything but quietly moan and whimper. If we were any louder, the whole office would know, and we couldn’t have that. This first time since he was stabbed was imperative to calming our worries and helping us forget our pain… but the team didn’t need to know any of it. There would be another time soon when Hotch and I would be alone, and I’d finally get to moan his name as loud as I wanted while also gasping between saying “I love you” a thousand times. But this… This needed to be quiet. It was passionate, of course, but it had to be quiet, much to my despair.

“I’m close,” he warned. “I’m so fucking close.”

I pulled him towards me so that our chests were pressed together. He hid his face in the crook of my neck, finally letting out a muffled groan. His hips were doing all of the work now, so I started grinding up to help him. That only seemed to encourage his orgasm, because the next thing I knew, his hand snaked between our bodies so that he could press his thumb against my clit.

I hid my face in his shoulder so that my moan would be muffled, too. “Aaron…” I let out a shaky breath. “Aaron, please. Cum in me…” I needed him to fill me. I needed that instinctual reminder that I was his and he was mine. I needed a part of him to carry around for a bit to remember that he was alive and that he was there with me. “Fuck—” My body gave out. I was shaking and panting as my orgasm crashed through me like a wave. As my walls pulsed around him, Hotch groaned into my neck again. My tightness pushed him over the edge, milking out everything he had to offer me.

“Y/N…” he growled in my ear, thrusting into me once more with such a fierceness that I knew I was going to be sore in just a few minutes. “I love you.” I heard how the words got caught in his throat. I heard how he was holding something back. I knew what it sounded like when he was trying not to cry. So, I lifted his head off me. “I love you,” he repeated, moving to kiss me before I could register just how red his eyes were.

I melted into his kiss again, my body relaxing after my overwhelming climax. It was only when I felt one of his tears hit my cheek that I knew he wasn’t okay. I whimpered sadly. All I could do was hold him close, tangling my fingers through his hair, kissing his lips again and again, feeling him soften inside of me. It was like that time we drove back from Cincinnati, and we couldn’t do anything but be grateful for each other. I couldn’t bear to lose him. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could face seeing him like this. Broken, beaten, bruised, wincing in pain. If it happened again, I didn’t know how I was going to survive.

“Does it still hurt?” I asked, referencing his scars. Hotch groaned as he pulled out of me slowly. He reached into his go-bag under his desk, grabbing a dark blue towel to clean me up with. Silently, he wiped my thighs and everywhere between. “Aaron.” He didn’t look at me. My heart sank in my chest at the realization. “They still hurt, don’t they?” Silence still. “Answer me, baby.”

“I don’t…” He gulped back tears. “I don’t know what to say.”

I sat up on the desk to get a better look at him while he hid the towel away, then stood up straight in order to change shirts. I wanted to apologize for ripping the purple one open. But I found that I couldn’t move or speak. He was stretching to pull the sleeves off, wincing as he did so, then he grabbed the red shirt from his go-bag, and started to carefully put it on.

“Come here,” I said, beckoning him closer with one finger. He sighed and stepped towards me. I started buttoning his shirt up for him. “You should’ve told me sooner.”

“I know.”

“We promised to never lie to each other.”

“I know.”

“So, then, why?”

His lip quivered and his eyes reddened. “Because I didn’t want to lose you, too... Turns out closing myself off in order to protect you only ruined everything.”

I finished buttoning his shirt. “I thought you learned that lesson when you first asked me out.”

Back then, when I first joined the team, Hotch entirely ignored me in order to protect me from his feelings. He didn’t think it was appropriate to let me know that he was in love with me. He thought that pushing me away was the only way to save me from him. What he failed to realize was that his decisions only worried me. I became obsessed with his change in behavior. Finally, I broke after Elle’s hostage situation in Texas, so I confronted him. That evening, we admitted that we had feelings for each other, and he took me out to dinner. The rest was history. But that was exactly why we didn’t keep secrets from each other, and we didn’t push each other away. I needed him to comfort me ever since Foyet attacked me— Actually, I wanted to comfort him. Bur he never gave me the chance. He pushed me away again, and it tore me down to nothing.

“I told you I’m sorry.”

I got off the desk and collected my panties and pants at the same time he grabbed his boxers and pants. We finished getting dressed simultaneously. As I hopped and shimmied into my pants, I looked at Hotch. “Can we start over? Pretend like the past month never happened?”

“And do what?” he asked while fixing his tie.

“Be us.”

His gaze snapped to meet mine. “I’d love that.”

“You can’t hide up in your office all day, and you can’t shut me out… You can’t keep sleeping in Jack’s room… You have to talk to me.”

He shuffled on the balls of his feet.

“Fine, you don’t have to talk to me, but you have to start going to therapy again.”

“It’s a waste of time and money, Y/N.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“I’m not going to sit on a couch and tell some stranger that I miss my son so much I can’t breathe! I’m not going to tell them that I think about how I snapped at you and it almost makes me wish Foyet killed me—”

“Don’t fucking say that,” I hissed. “Ever.”

“You wanted me to talk to you, right? Well, that’s how I feel.”

I inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to diffuse the tension building in my chest and shoulders. We had just made up; I didn’t want to start arguing with him again. “Okay… Like I said, you don’t have to talk to me… But at least try one more session. You stopped going after we lost Jack and Haley, and I think that’s a big part of why things blew up the way they did. Just one. For me. If you don’t like it, then I won’t make you go again. I think you’ll find it’s helpful, though.”

Hotch sighed, too. “Just one.”

“Just one,” I agreed while nodding.

“Okay.”

I jumped onto my toes and kissed him. “I love you.”

Before he could say it back, there was a knock at the door. Hotch and I parted, fixing ourselves again as quickly as possible, and I returned to my seat at his desk while he went to go unlock the door. When I was settled, I gave Hotch a nod. It looked like nothing had happened between the two of us now, except for the fact that Hotch was wearing a different shirt, but hopefully no one would notice… right…

“Sorry to interrupt,” Rossi apologized from the other side of the door, “but we’ve got a new case.”

I stood from my seat and started walking towards the door to make my way to the boardroom. Hotch stopped me. He looked at Rossi, then asked if we could have another moment alone before closing the door on him. I rolled my eyes at Hotch.

“Don’t do that,” he begged, grabbing my hips in his hands. “Just sit out for one more case. That’s all. One more to collect your thoughts and get settled back in at the house.”

My hands slid around the back of his neck so that my fingers could pull at the ends of his hair gently. He moaned. I smiled and jumped up onto my toes so that I could kiss him. “I love you, Aaron Hotchner. I always have and I always will.”

He let out a breath, letting relief wash over him. “Say it again.”

“I love you. I love you so much. I’ll never stop loving you.”

He pulled me in for another desperate, passionate kiss that kept me pressed against him until I couldn’t breathe. When his lungs gave out, too, he parted from me. “I love you, too.” And then he raced off to be a superhero again.

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

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut

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florvinhara · 3 years

Text

my detectives (part 2)

celebrating the end of this semester w infodump part 2 ft luna! (part 1)

Luna [redacted] Kingston

Romances A or M

Age: 27

Birthday: September 12

Star sign: Virgo

Height: 5'3"

Hair: black, wavy and shoulder length w choppy front bangs

Eyes: dark blue

Other appearance details: eyesight is bad enough that she usually wears glasses but she can still mostly see w/out them. long scar on neck from the murphy attack. old scars on knees and elbows (the Klutz special).

Languages: Conversational fluency in lots of them!

Stats:

Charming/Intimidating

Impulsive/Cautious

Sarcastic/Genuine

Friendly/Stoic

Easygoing/Stubborn

Heart/Mind

Optimist/Pessimist

Team player/Independent

Primary skills: Deduction & people

Strengths: Outgoing, kind, trusting, creative thinker, jack of all trades, open-minded, thoughtful, devoted, loyal, strong-willed

Weaknesses: Guilty, flighty, overactive imagination, clumsy, low self-esteem, unfocused, nervous, dishonest, impetuous, irrational at times

Personal:

her middle name is currently [redacted] bc im pretty sure rook's sister is Evil and for the Drama im gonna make luna's middle name the aunt's first name ;) if it turns out the aunt isnt a villain then.... idk maybe she still will be in my heart <3

she's worn glasses since she was 12, but her vision is. Technically good enough that she can mostly get by without them, leading to her always putting them on top of her head and subsequently losing them

in my heart she's an investigative journalist who moved back to wayhaven after sm things went down at her old job that made her want to find out what really happened to rook and reconnect w rebecca, but then got caught up in the murder plot with UB starting book 1, but in the vein of canon, she joined the force to follow in rook's footsteps etc.

she was kind of a weird kid, always daydreaming and making up her own very in-depth games and stories in the corner- she was pretty shy! sometimes she wld write them down and that's what first got her interested in writing

the car is named Tracy and she is a LADY who is doing her best!!!! at this point tracy is a cherished friend, jokes about her being bad will Not be well received >:(

she's very much in her head all the time, smtimes her sentences sort of meander and just go off on tangents and then kind of drift off at the ends

rebecca sent her to boarding school for a while following an Event in luna's childhood that made rebecca feel like wayhaven wasn't safe for the time being, she had lots of fun but that's kind of the time when luna started to worry she'd done smth wrong and that's why rebecca didn't want her around, since she'd kind of blocked out the Incident

many nervous habits! including but not limited to: cleaning her glasses, braiding small strands of her hair, jostling her leg, cracking her knuckles

she is actually v smart! in a book sense at least :0 she's clever and good at solving puzzles, and she remembers a lot of rlly obscure info abt lots of things- look into her eyes and you can basically hear the mii music playing, but she is intelligent!

she loves animals :') walking anywhere with her takes Ages bc she wants to stop and look at birds and if there's a worm on the sidewalk everything comes to a Halt while a rescue operation is performed

rocks!!!!! she's a huge geology nerd and she Loves them sm, fun crystals and pebbles alike :) she collects them all and if you picked one up and asked her abt it she wld know exactly when and where she got it

she hates seasonal music!!!! halloween songs and Especially christmas songs!! she cant explain why but it drives her up. the. wall. during the last few months of the year she's like that gif from community of the woman hitting the guy with a candy cane like "its December 10th!!!" its the one thing about the holidays she doesn't like

lots of her favorite books are from the golden age of detective fiction! she also reads a lot of poetry and history books, and loves nonfiction :D she's a sucker for any book with really in depth worldbuilding and/or a map on the front inside cover- she DID read the entire silmarillion AND enjoy it! she loves animated and stop-motion movies, laika is her Favorite studio and she owns every studio ghibli movie

she loves any food or drink where the main ingredient is sugar <3 catch her eating lucky charms dry straight from the box! she'll only drink coffee if it has like. vanilla or sm other sweet flavoring added to it along with 12 packs of sugar

her sleep schedule.... oh no! she had insomnia even before murphy, and now with the nightmares, it's even worse :( it's ok though! she uses the nighttime to work on art or baking or writing etc.

she listens to lots of indie/folk music- the oh hellos are one of her favorite bands! also she's a big fan of fun pop music- carly rae jepsen, bleachers, hayley kiyoko, HAIM, etc. also smdfnsj she Does listen to lofi music

she's loved chess since she was a kid and often plays against herself or another opponent- she also usually has a puzzle she's working on, and really likes crossword puzzles/sudoku games!

background noise is a Friend <3 it rlly helps her focus!

she loves her potted plants a lot! she has very detailed instructions on how to take care of them and she does talk/sing to them to help them grow

her house Looks minimalist? she values the aesthetic but she cannot commit- open any drawer in her house and you'll find like 7000 receipts she hasn't thrown out yet

she is Sweet but! untapped Rage is there... she has a tendency to bottle things up until one tiny thing makes her Go Off with all the stress and anger she's been holding back :( she Will cry and yell and then be completely horrified and spend the next 3-4 weeks apologizing profusely

she feels bad about. Everything :( she blames herself a lot,, it's easier to tell herself that things are going wrong bc it's her Fault and she did smth wrong rather than accept that it's out of her control

on that subject things with rebecca are Awkward!! they kind of drifted apart and luna feels like she shld have tried harder to keep in touch

her primary love language... probably words of affirmation or physical affection! she's very open w her affections and telling/showing people she loves them (to the extent they're comfortable with it! she prefers to let whoever she's with dictate the pace of the relationship)

if you see her Sleeping on the floor.... just leave her be,, she's sleepy

she is. weirdly lucky at small things and games of chance? catch her being dealt a full house right out of the gate during card games or finding quarters on the street all the time! she wins carnival games like nobody's business <3

absently she knows all the Lucky things to wish on! shooting stars, ladybugs, eyelashes, pennies, 11:11, etc :)

she dresses like. a very specific kind of influencer lowkey, w the oversized t-shirts and jeans ksdfm, the Sweaters/coats, etc.

hot weather does Not spark joy- she owns like 700 fans and loves getting to wear all her cute winter clothes :)

she's not allowed to watch cooking/baking shows unsupervised anymore, following the Incident where she watched one and then spent the entire night building a Giant gingerbread mansion spreading across the floor of her apartment

she deflects. a Lot! not even intentionally really but it just Happens :/ she's naturally a pretty open person but smtimes she just naturally is Not Talking abt it and tries to play things off, especially personal things abt her feelings/reactions to things <3

she is Nervous,, her base level of stress is. kind of up there! surprises Do Not work bc she will just Shriek and drop what she's holding sndfsjn.... it was like that even before murphy but. you know. it's more pronounced now :/

in her heart she is like. a human golden retriever! she's excited!! she wants to be friends!! she's roaming around,, take her for a walk and maybe she will find a cool stick to carry!!

she walks with a little bit of a skip in her step! on her toes a bit so nobody can tell she is Short... (it doesnt work)

#clown girl has entered the arena #my softest oc BY far jsvskssb she is wholesome but also <3 a lil bit of a fool #twc

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thepancakeboi · 3 years

Text

99. “Do it. I dare you.”

I don’t normally make a note on these writing prompt stuff outside of tags but I feel I have to warn that this one does get very dark and angsty, up to including the potential of character death (no one dies though, I promise). Now, on with the show!

“Let’s go,” Joker’s voice rings out, echoing against the walls of the Mementos station.

Mona jumps onto the tracks, transforming into his car form in midair. The rest of the thieves sans Joker starts to get in. Not everyone had been able to come today. Haru had business involving Big Bang Burger that she had to attend to, leaving it down to the nine of us to finish our Mementos requests. She had apologized profusely in the group chat, but the others reassured her that everything was alright.

I go to get in the back of the vehicle but am stopped by a hand grabbing my arm. I give Joker an unamused look as I ask, “What do you want?”

“You know where you sit,” he replies with a cocky grin to match. I sigh in frustration as I get in the front row after Joker. Every single time, he always wants me to sit right next to him. He refuses to take no for an answer on that. No matter how much outward annoyance I show, I secretly am content with this seating arrangement. I’m fairly certain that he is aware of this as well. It’s even more apparent today since, with Noir not here today, Violet ends up deciding to sit with Panther and Queen in the middle row. Joker echoes my thoughts as he remarks, “Hey, look at that. It’s just the two of us. Anything can happen~”

“Joker, if you try anything, you’re going to lose a limb or two.”

“Sounds fun,” he hums, laughing as I sulk and look away from him. I can’t even threaten him without his goddamn danger kink making its existence known.

“God, get a room, you two!” Oracle yells from the back.

Joker laughs even harder at this. “I might do just that.”

“No,” I say, refusing to entertain this idea any further.

“But Akeppi-”

“I said no.”

He looks disheartened for a brief moment before he smirks. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t Joker starting to sing, “♪ I want your love, and I want your revenge. You and me could write a bad romance~♪”

I whirl around as I hear Panther join in with, “♪ Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!♪”

Joker apparently has no intentions of stopping. “♪ I want your love, and all your lover’s revenge. You and me could write a bad romance~♪”

At that point, Oracle decides it’s her turn, “♪ Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh! Caught in a bad romance!♪”

“Would you three shut up already?” I yell, turning so I can glare at all of them at once.

It’s quiet for all of one second before Oracle and Joker both, of course, decide to ignore me like the menaces they are, simultaneously singing, “♪ Ra-ra-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga, ‘Ooh la-la’! Want your bad romance~♪”

I groan at their antics. It’s the one annoyance that comes from sitting next to Joker. It’s not the first time something like this has happened. The chances of it being the last are minuscule at best.

The banter between the rest of the thieves continues as we continue to drive through Mementos. At some point, Joker took one of his hands off the steering wheel so that he could hold me close. He still has his arm around me when we run right into a Shadow that decides not to immediately disintegrate upon impact.

“Get ready, everyone!” Mona says in car form. “This one wants a fight.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Skull shouts. “We’re gonna kick its ass!”

We quickly exit the vehicle while the Shadow is still stunned from being hit head-on by a cat-turned-vehicle. Almost as soon as Mona transforms back into a cat, the Shadow bursts into a black liquid, revealing itself as a Forneus.

I had been hoping for this fight to be done quickly, but this Shadow is decidedly stubborn. We’ve managed to knock it down a couple of times, but it simply refuses to die. After the third such time, it fires a Mapsiodyne that manages to hit all of us. “Queen!” Fox calls out as she collapses.

No communication is needed. Joker and I pull back to tend to her while the rest keep fighting. I bend down so that I can drag her out of harm’s way. However, I pause, sensing Joker’s eyes on me. Not this again. “Joker,” I start, moving Queen as I speak, “maybe you should be a little more concerned about Queen lying unconscious on the floor rather than staring at my ass.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.”

He quickly summons Sandalphon to revive her. Queen’s eyes flutter open, surprisingly unalarmed that she had been knocked out. It’s such a common occurrence with this group. How they’ve survived for so long, I have no idea. “She’s awake,” I say, turning back to Joker. “We should get back to the fight.”

He nods. “Let’s go-”

“Joker, look out!” Panther calls out just as he is engulfed in a magenta aura.

He tries to move out of the way, but it’s too late. There’s nothing any of us can do without Noir and her Persona’s Amrita Shower. The aura clears. Joker stands there, his eyes closed. “Joker?” Queen asks from behind me, having gotten herself to her feet.

A sinister grin creeps across his face as he opens his eyes, his attention focused on the two of us. His eyes glow with an unnatural purple light as he rushes at us. “It’s not him!” I yell, blocking his dagger with my sword. His grin only widens, a frenzied look in his eyes. “He’s been brainwashed by that damn Shadow!”

“We gotta do something!” Mona calls out from the frontlines, where he’s working with Skull and Fox to keep the Shadow occupied. “He’ll keep attacking us if we do nothing!”

In an instant, I make my decision. “Keep attacking it, all of you. Oracle, make sure they don’t die doing it.”

“It’ll be easy peasy!” Oracle replies from above in Al Azif.

“I’ll keep Joker occupied while you do that until he snaps out of this brainwashing.”

“Got it,” Panther responds, her Persona pelting the Shadow with fiery strikes as Makoto charges forward on Agnes.

With Joker’s next strike, I grab ahold of his wrist, fully intending on pulling him away from the fight. However, I’m distracted by Violet tentatively asking, “Is senpai gonna be okay?”

“Damnit,” I hiss as Joker escapes my grasp, his dagger slicing my wrist. “Quit your worrying. He’ll be fine.”

Ignoring Violet, for the time being, I regain a hold of Joker and manage to get the bloody dagger out of his hand. I drag him away, leaving the others to take care of that pesky Shadow. The moment we’re out of its vision, I turn to Joker, sheathing my sword for now. “Pull yourself together, idiot!” I snap, resisting the urge to slap him across the face. “We’re your friends.”

“Friends?” he asks, the first words he’s said in his current state.

“Yes, friends. You have those, remember?”

“No. You’re my enemy!”

He throws himself at me with little regard to the fact that he’s currently unarmed and I have a sword at my side. I struggle against him, trying not to hurt him. My sword stays sheathed. I can’t bring myself to cause him harm, even when he has me backed against the wall. “Joker, listen to yourself! I know you’re still there. You’re brainwashed. The Phantom Thieves are your friends. Don’t you understand? They’re not the enemy.”

“You’re right...it’s just you.” Nothing could have prepared me for what comes next. In one swift motion, he pulls out his pistol, pointing it at my face. His grin becomes wicked and full of malice as he sees my eyes widen in shock. “How does it feel, traitor? Knowing you’re about to die.”

“You won’t shoot me. You can’t.”

Despite how confident I try to sound, my heart pounds in my chest. Chills run down my spine. It takes a considerable amount of effort to hide any possible sign of trembling. I refuse to show any vulnerability to him. I don’t care that he could kill me. Even brainwashed, there’s no way he’s capable of shooting me. This isn’t him. Joker would never do this...would he? “Are you afraid?” he mocks. “Are you going to beg for me to spare your life?”

I look Joker dead in the eye...and laugh.

I am aware of the situation I am in, that Joker has a gun pointed at my head and could shoot me dead at any moment. At the same time, the irony doesn’t elude me. The tables have turned, and now it’s me on the receiving end of the gun. “Do you really think I would stoop so low? I know you’re brainwashed, but I think you’re bluffing.”

“Someone’s eager to die. What was it you said? ‘Case closed. This is where your justice ends.’ But it’s not my justice ending, detective: it’s yours.”

“Then, by all means, pull the trigger. Do it. I dare you.” When he doesn’t immediately react, I add, “Here. How about I make it easier for you?” With slow, deliberate movements, I remove my mask with one hand and push my bangs aside with the other as I tilt my head forward. He has a clear shot now, the cold metal of the barrel pressed against my forehead. Yes, this is reckless. I know that...but he deserves this chance. An opportunity to enact swift judgment on me for my crimes. I’m not worthy of a quick death like this, even with it mirroring my actions in the interrogation room. It doesn’t matter, though. If this is how it ends, then so be it. I couldn’t ask for a better executioner.

I stand there, eyes closed, waiting for death to take me. But the gunshot never comes. I open my eyes, staring past the pistol to the boy currently holding me at gunpoint. His grin isn’t quite as wide as before. He’s faltering. “What’s the matter, Joker? I didn’t hesitate when the situation was reversed. Go ahead,” I say as I close my eyes once again, my voice slowly rising in volume as I continue to berate him, “put a bullet through my skull. It’s only fair, isn’t it? I’ve murdered countless people. I even tried to kill you twice. I don’t deserve to be alive, so get on with it and fucking shoot me already!”

All I hear is a gasp, the gun clattering against the ground. I look up to see Joker, no longer brainwashed. It’s clear that he’s shaken. His lips are parted as he stares at me in wide-eyed horror. “A-Akeppi?” he hesitantly says, voice trembling. His mask isn’t able to completely hide the tears threatening to spill. He’s trying so desperately to pull himself together, but for once, it’s not working. I’ve never seen him so visibly distressed, and it hurts.

“You were brainwashed.” It’s the only thing I can offer as reassurance that I don’t blame him, that it wasn’t his fault.

“You’re...not hurt, are you?”

Figures, he’d ask that question. As always, he’s more concerned about my own well being than his own. “No, of course not,” I lie, hiding the blood on my wrist.

He isn’t fooled. He sees right through my response, as observant as ever. His touch is gentle as he moves my arm into his line of sight. The corners of his lips twitch when he sees the cut. “You are. I didn’t hurt you anywhere else, did I? Tell me the truth.”

“You didn’t.”

We stand there in silence, neither one of us sure how to proceed. I personally want to ignore it and move on, but I can sense that Joker won’t. His inner guilt is eating at him, I can tell. Meanwhile, something tells me he knows I’m hiding something from him. I just don’t want him to know that I had believed he was capable of killing me, even for a second. It’d be too much for him, I’m sure. Joker’s the one to break the silence. “Akeppi, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I instantly respond.

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not. I could have killed you.”

“You didn’t kill me, tho-”

“But I could have,” he interjects before starting to ramble. “I could have killed you. I had my hand on the trigger, and you were willing to just die. What if I had actually shot you...and you had died? Akeppi, I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I’m still here. You wouldn’t have fired the gun.”

“But what if-”

He abruptly goes silent, likely shocked that I’ve pulled him into my embrace, dropping my mask in the process. “Ren, trust me,” I say in a slow, hushed tone, dropping the codenames for now so I can get through to him. “It’s okay. I’m here for you, and I will continue to love you as much as before. Nothing will change that.”

“Goro...” His voice hitches as he returns the hug, desperately holding onto me as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he doesn’t. I can hear his ragged breathing as he finally breaks down and cries. Taking cues from what he would do if the situation were reversed, I pull off one of my gauntlets and gently stroke his hair with my ungloved hand. My own tears run down my face, but I refuse to acknowledge them. I have to be strong, for Ren’s sake. He’s always been that way for me, and it’s about time I return the favor.

A few minutes pass before he starts to calm down. As he pulls back to look at me, I move his mask up so I can wipe the remaining tears from his face. “Even crying, you’re still beautiful,” I muse to myself, not meaning to say the words aloud.

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” he asks with a little chuckle. “You look like you were crying, too.”

I shake my head, refusing to confirm or deny his statement. His chuckling continues as he replicates my actions, although his hand lingers on my cheek longer than I had. I turn my head as I hear Skull’s voice. They must have brought down the Shadow without us. I reach down, grabbing my mask from behind Joker and putting my glove back on my hand. “We’ll keep this between us, alright?”

“Okay.” He moves his own mask back into its proper position. Even up close, it’s hard to see that he had just finished crying. “Hey, Akeppi?”

“Yes?”

“Can we cuddle when we get back home?”

The request is not exactly unexpected. We both know he loves to cuddle and that it helps improve his mood. He already should know my answer. After all, how could I refuse him after what happened? “Of course. Come on. Let’s meet up with the others.”

Prompt list

#akeppi writes #p5 #persona 5 #goro akechi #akechi #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #phantom thieves #except haru sorry i couldn't give her screentime #akeshu #shuake #writing prompt #this is the darkest writing i've done yet #this has been an idea months in the making #this one HURT to write #it hurt my soul #writing joker so vulnerable hurts #if it isn't clear i am hurt lol

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criminalmindskink · 5 years

Text

Dominant Doctor NSFW

This was an idea that came from a conversation with the beautiful, amazing, and loving @fussy-and-a-writer-sometimes , if you haven't given her page a go please do. She writes some AMAZING teen wolf imagines.

Warnings: This is smut. Choking, slight toy play, unprotected sex, kink talk, cursing. Wrap it before you tap it loves.

As always my request remain open, as does my inbox. Enjoy my furry profilers.

His hands travel up my body before grabbing both of my wrist and slamming them to the bed. “Spencer please, let me touch you” I moan out to the genius that has me a writhing mess. I guess all that reading has paid off in some ways.

He clicks his tongue in response before biting down on my throat “I don’t think so darling. What did you think you were doing dancing in that dress tonight? What, just because I’m your coworker I can’t have you writhing up under me? You’ve been teasing me all week little girl, now you’re gonna cum until you cry” he growls out at me in response. “No touching, take your punishment like a good girl.” He finishes before sliding back down my body.

“Yes sir” is all I can moan out before he’s absolutely devouring my core.

I’m shaken from the recent memory as a hand forcefully grabs my thigh and wrenches my legs apart. I look up from the hand to see it attached to the man himself, Spencer Reid. He gives me a sly smirk before directing his attention back to Hotch, who’s currently briefing us on a case.

That night that left me sore and satisfied was four days ago and counting. Half of me wants to take him to an empty office and drop to my knees, while the other half wants to ask him what this means. I mean we’re coworkers, can this honestly be a regular thing?

Hotch finishes up the briefing with stating that wheels are up in thirty. We all disperse from the room and head to our go bags. I pass by my desk and head to the restroom, desperate for cold water in my face. I should really have paid more attention to Hotch, but I can’t get Spencer off my mind. I haven’t been able to since that night.

I walk into the rest room and rest my back against the sink while thinking back to that night.

After cumming for a sixth time I feel hands travel up my body in my dazed state. With the hands are a pair of lips that are tracing soft and wet kisses up my stomach. I opened my eyes to see the man above me wearing a look of unadulterated lust.

He presses his mouth to mine as his tongue fights my own for dominance. He leans back a bit before studying my face “have you learned your lesson love?” He asks in a tone I’ve never known him to wear.

It draws a moan from my lips “Yes sir, please take me. I’m yours Reid.” I gasp out in response. He gave a moan of his own before I feel the tip of his length at my entrance, a feeling I’ve only dreamed of for so long.

Suddenly I feel a mouth latch onto my throat, the feeling drawing a loud moan from within me. A hand shoots up to my mouth while the other grabs my hip. “Shhhhh, you don’t want the team hearing you do you?” He whispers into the shell of my ear.

I desperately shake my head while biting my lip in response. He chuckles before turning from me to lock the door. Once he turns back to me I see an animalistic lust in his eyes. He walks back to me before lifting me onto the bathroom counter and locks his lips with my own.

A lone hand trails up my arm before slowly dragging itself down my torso. It stops it’s journey for a split second to roughly grab one of my breasts through my shirt. I whimper again in response and grind myself onto the man.

The hand continues down my body and goes under my skirt where the thumb roughly rubs my core through my lace thong. Spencer moans in appraisal “You wear this for me? You know I’ve been craving to have you under me again since that night. Your body accepts me in a way I thought was only written of.” He whispers back into my ear.

His thumb is now making slow circles of my clit before his fingers move my panties aside and slip through my folds. “Oh baby, you’re absolutely soaked. Is this all for me?” He questions in an aroused tone.

I nod my head profusely in response, dying to have him inside me again. Two of his fingers are suddenly planted inside me, curling in just the right spot to have me arching into him. I grabbed both of his shoulders as I whimper out “Spence please, I need you” his fingers slowly begin to move in and out.

My hips begin grinding on their own accord and he hums approvingly. “See what I mean? Your body craves me just as much as your brain. It’s absolutely beautiful.” He smirks cockily before retracting his hand. The action draws another whimper from me before he brings his hand to his mouth and sucks on his fingers.

This man may actually kill me. He brings his mouth back to my ear before lowly whispering “see you on the plane agent”. With that, he’s unlocking the door and leaving me craving for him to come back. I let out a soft sound of discomfort before hopping off the counter and taking some short breaths. This is gonna be a rough case if he continues this torture the entire time.

Once everyone gets to the plane everything is peaceful. After about an hour it seems everyone is asleep but myself. Seeing this, I move to the couch and lay down fully allowing my consciousness to slip from me.

I wake up a bit startled to feel a body under my legs. A hand attached to the body slowly trails up my legs before wrapping around the back of my thigh and gripping harshly. I tense slightly before looking up to the owner of the hand that is currently assaulting my senses.

Spencer smirks to me before placing a finger to his lips, quietly silencing me. I feel my face contort to a look of pleading before he shakes his head at me. One of his hands slowly palm himself, drawing my attention to what I am craving the most.

Hotch coughs before making a sudden movement to sit up. This action causes us to depart a second before his eyes open and take in his surroundings. I sit up and try to gather myself before looking up.

This day has been total hell. Between Reid’s lip biting to the six times he’s cornered me, i’m on my last leg. We’ve made bed at a hotel for the night and I honestly could not be more grateful for everyone having their own rooms. If the lovely doctor won’t help me, I’ll just help myself.

With that thought I strip down and head for the shower. The only object I brought that could help me is a tiny bullet vibrator I had bought on the go from a previous case. Fully nude and in the shower I turn the little bullet to it’s maximum speed. I can’t help but let my mind drift back to the reason of all my tension. As the vibration hits my clit I let out a low moan of appreciation.

Spencer stills himself once he’s fully sheathed in me. He makes eye contact again while raising a hand to my cheek as if to check if I’m okay. I guess the caring side of him will show through after all. “You ready kitten?” He moans out as my walls tighten around his length.

The only response to his question is a girlish whimper, a sound I didn’t even know I could produce. I lift my hips to slowly grind down on him, causing his head to drop to my neck. He softly kisses behind my ear before pulling almost the entire way out of me. Before I can even question the action, he thrusts into me full force. Both of us let out filthy moans as he performs the action again.

I’m shaken from the memory as I’m slammed into the shower wall and a mouth places a searing yet angry kiss upon my own. Once the body draws away from mine, I open my eyes to see Spencer. “Spence” I begin but I’m silenced by a hand on my mouth and a low shushing noise.

His hand trails down to mine that’s holding the ruby vibrating bullet. “Now now, who said you could do this?” He asks with a dark tone coating his voice. He doesn’t let me respond before he continues “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t take care of you sweetheart? I think you just want a round two of the other night. Is that it?” He brings the bullet to the palm of his hand before placing it back at my core. My head bangs against the wall as my hips hopelessly grind against his hand, begging for a release.

I grabbed both of his shoulders before trailing my eyes over his chest. When I look back at his eyes I can see he’s expecting me to answer. “I’m sorry spen, I mean sir, my body is just dying to be released. You’ve been teasing me all day” I half way sob to the man before me.

He clicks his tongue in response before driving to fingers inside me. My knees buckle and my throat let’s lose a filthy moan. “I bet it does, but you see obviously you don’t need me for that right? Coming in here to pleasure yourself with this bullet. I don’t think you deserve to cum baby girl.” He hisses into my ear. His fingers are still inside me, going at a pace I didn’t even think possible.

He twists his hand at the perfect angle to hit my sweet spot causing me to see stars. The vibration on my clit plus the pace he’s set his fingers will cause my end to come soon, if he’ll let me have it. At that thought I grind down on his hand and give him the best puppy dog eyes I can muster. His only free hand comes to my throat in response and grips just enough to bring my pleasure to its max.

I know I can’t last much longer so I thread my fingers into his hair. “Spencer please, I'm begging you let me cum” I breathe out to the man. He shakes his head to me in response and shows a pensive look. I feel the knot forming inside me getting ready to bust. I let out a whine and place one of my hands on the wrist that’s connected to my throat.

Just as that knot is about to bust he removes himself from me completely. My head falls to the wall again while another whimper falls from my lips. Before I can open my eyes to speak I’m flipped face first against the wall and my ass is being brought out on display for him.

A precise finger slides through my folds while another rubs one of my ass cheeks. “If you can take this punishment like a good girl, I’ll think about letting you cum. Do you understand?” He states from behind me.

The term causes my back to arch to him “yes sir, I understand” I moan out with my cheek pressed to the shower wall. Before I can even question what he plans to do, a harsh slap comes across the right side of my rear. I yelp out in response before another one comes down. The pain mixed with the pleasure is enough to drive my libido into over drive.

Without thinking twice, I let a filthy moan come from me “Doctor please, I won’t do it again I promise. I’ll be a good girl for you.” I moan into the wall as his hand comes to score me again. The phrase causes the man to pause in his action.

A dark almost growl comes from his lips as a hand weaves into my hair. He pulls me to his body fully, his length coming between my thighs. He takes a harsh breath before allowing a groan to come from his lips. “You dirty girl, call me that again princess” he moans into the shell of my ear.

I smile slyly before laying my head on his shoulder “Please Doctor, take me. I’m yours” I whisper into his ear before nibbling on his ear. His hands come to my hips and grip harshly. Another shaky breath comes from his lips before I’m lifted and placed over his shoulder.

He turns the shower off and heads to the bed. Once we are at the edge of the bed he moves to place me onto my back. His teeth assault my neck before his hand comes to take their place. His cocky smirk returns to his face as he places his length at my entrance. He makes eye contact with me, “good girl” he states lowly before thrusting into me completely.

He sets a relentless pace before he hitches one of my legs over his hips. He bends the other at the knee before bringing it up to my chest. His body leans down fully, stopping me from moving it, before bringing the bullet back. Seeing what he was about to do causes my nails to score down his chest and arm, drawing a moan from him. Once he turns it back on and places it back to my clit a loud moan releases from my lips. “Doctor oh my god yes please” I yell out incoherent sentences.

He brings his free hand up to caress my cheek, a harsh difference from the pace he’s set. “Careful darling, what will the people next door think?” He playfully questions as I lose myself in him. While his tone is playful I can feel him tense from the way my walls are closing around him. He was right earlier today, my body accepts him in ways I thought were only written about in books.

With the knot coming from within me at an alarming rate, I give my doctor a pleading look “please” is all I can get out in my current state. His pace increasing as he brings a hand up to pinch one of my nipples.

He bites harshly on my neck and brings his mouth to my ear “you wanna cum? Go ahead, you deserve it. You’ve been a good girl. Cum princess.” He moans out.

My body reacts as if it had been awaiting his command. The knot that had been forming completely busts, the feelings more euphoric than it had ever been before. I latch onto his arm and shoulder as he continues to devour my senses with his cock. After a second he groans as he releases himself within me.

He softly grabs my legs and lays them down onto the mattress, his head coming to place light kisses over my chest and neck. He finishes his oral adventure at my lips, giving me a passionate and loving kiss. His head moves back to take in my state as my hand caresses his chin.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry if I was too rough.” He states as he looks over my body and kissed my hand. The statement causes me to smile at the man sweetly and let lose a chuckle.

I place my hand on the back of his neck and bring him in for another kiss. He rolls onto his back as he accepts the kiss. I pull back and gaze at his face “I’m perfectly okay Spence, thank you for taking care of me.” I whisper to him before my head falls to his chest.

His hand begins to trail light patterns up and down my spine. “Anytime beautiful” He states softly before kissing the top of my head. My face rest in the crook of his neck as I feel my consciousness begin to fade out. I feel a blanket being placed over the two of us before I’m down for the count.

Anyone who is observant, who discovers the person they have always dreamed of, knows that sexual energy comes into play before sex even takes place. The greatest pleasure isn’t sex, but the passion with which it is practiced. When the passion is intense, then sex joins in to complete the dance, but it is never the principal aim.

― Paulo Coelho

Taglist: @fanfiction-promptsx

#criminal minds imagine #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut

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lifblogs · 4 years

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SPN Hiatus Creations: Week 3 - Favorite Character

TFW 2.0

@spnhiatuscreations

Sam tends to be my favorite character, but I’ve written so many Sam-centric stories that the creativity well for this was kind of dry. But TFW 2.0 are my favorite characters. All of them. I love them.

“Duck!”

The cry traveled across the room, reaching Sam’s ears. And he quickly did as his brother said. A cue ball was thrown, going over Sam’s head, and hitting the werewolf behind him.

Sam was on the ground now, scrabbling through the wreckage of the furniture and glasses and drinks in the bar, trying to find his gun.

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?

Jack had found it, and kicked it over to Sam’s desperately reaching hand. He did so just before he deftly dodged one of the werewolves’ claws. Castiel rushed to help him.

The werewolf by Sam clawed his leg, and he screamed, his jeans tearing, blood seeping from his wounds. He started getting dragged, claws digging deep into both legs. Oh god, had it severed any of his tendons? Would he still be able to walk? Sam pushed the thoughts away, adrenaline pounding through him, and he kicked out, rolled onto his back, and aimed at the werewolf. Releasing a breath, feeling a nothingness, a void of concentration, he fired.

Sam’s bullet struck home between the werewolf’s eyes. They went down, dead and bleeding.

Dean cried out, and Sam twisted, looking for his brother. He was pressed against the bar, face pushed into some broken glass that was wet with scotch, and now Dean’s blood. Sam rose to try and help him, even as his legs twinged, and didn’t want to work. He dragged himself over, and received a kick in the face from the werewolf for his efforts. His eyes watered as his nose throbbed.

Jack screamed, Castiel yelled. Sam’s heart pounded, blood rushing in his ears like a frantic, violent demand. He had to help them. He had to. He loved them.

Sam lunged, and grabbed the werewolf that was currently aiming to put his claws in his brother’s throat. They both went down, tumbling, rolling, fighting.

He came away bloody and aching.

Sam surveyed the bar, the fight that was ensuing.

Jack was kneeling, holding a bleeding shoulder that looked as if it’d been bitten. Castiel stabbed a silver knife up into a werewolf against the wall. The force he used to do so spoke about how much he wanted to avenge Jack’s wounds, and the weapon digged in all the way past the hilt. The knife stayed in them as they went down. Jack tried coming over to Sam. The werewolf by him went down, getting pummeled by Dean.

Though it was a risky shot, Sam fired with a deafening BANG!, and the bullet hit the werewolf in the chest. They died choking on blood.

The fight was over.

Sam breathed heavily, shocked, trying to get the adrenaline roaring through his blood to dissipate. The bar was a wreck -- broken furniture everywhere, splashes of drinks from broken bottles soaking the bar and the floor, and blood was splattered wherever he looked.

Castiel spoke, referring to the incident with the werewolves, “I’d rather not do that again.”

He went over to help Jack up, and Dean helped Sam, who had put his gun in the waistband of his jeans. He was bleeding profusely. Sam wanted to reach out for his brother’s face, hold his blood in. But he couldn’t. He just held on.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Dean commented.

“Sam, are you alright?” Castiel asked.

“Tendons,” he heaved out. “They got my tendons.”

After healing Jack, both of them were over in a flash to heal Sam. The healing hurt, his tendons stitching themselves back together at a voracious rate that left him gripping Dean in a white-knuckled grip and gritting his teeth to hold back a scream. Dean was next, Castiel tenderly caressing his face as he healed him. Gold light encompassed them, Castiel’s eyes even glowing a brilliant blue, and then it was over.

Standing on his own, Sam went to Jack, pulling him in close. His son wrapped an arm around his waist. The kid was shaking.

“It’s okay,” Sam soothed. “It’s okay.”

“Sam, I’m sorry,” Jack told him.

“Sorry for what?” he asked, perplexed.

“I could’ve done more, I--”

“Hey, kid,” Dean began. “You did great. You just survived a fight against three werewolves. You know how intense that is?”

“Intense isn’t the word I’d use,” Castiel said.

“Shut up.”

Sam rolled his eyes at Castiel’s and Dean’s bickering. But then Cas came over, and took Jack’s face in his hands, even while Sam held him against his side.

“You did great, Jack. And we’re here with you.”

“Okay, guys, no Hallmark movies,” Dean told them, shifting his weight about on his feet, seeming uncomfortable with the tenderness. Rage, tension, and a hard and rough life was more Dean’s style. Sam knew that, but despite that, he went over and grabbed him, drawing him into a hug. In turn, he received a hard pat on the back that throbbed for a quick second. Jack’s hair got ruffled.

“Nothing gets past Team Free Will two-point-oh, huh?” Dean asked.

Cas smiled. “No, no, it doesn’t.”

“So, what bastards do you want to kill next?” Sam questioned.

Jack responded, “Can we go find a zombie?”

Dean smiled, even as he put the safety on on his gun and put it in the waistband of his jeans. “Hell yeah, we can find a zombie.”

Buy Me a Coffee!

#spnhiatuscreations #Supernatural #SPN #TFW 2.0 #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #my writing

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dune-thedewcollectors · 4 years

Text

The Asset codenamed the Waterseller is not a Magnate like Lingar Bewt. But there is more to this city Fremen than meets the eye. "Soo soo sook!" That is the cry of the water venders of the market-place. Havanna, our man in Arrakis, is one such member of a time honoured profession. "Soo soo sook!" The Guild has invested much in this city Fremen. A man with talents like those should be exploited. I have need of this asset's guile and cunning, my own career may profit greatly from it. Some say Havanna has the keys to the city of Arrakeen while others say nothing at the risk of death. Our man is a native of the city and knows little of the ways of his desert cousins, the sietch Fremen. They of the sietch spurn our solari and offers of Guild technology. The city Fremen, however, do not. They make for more than just useful allies in Arrakeen. No one dares interfere with them in the their natural habitat, the urban confines, their sanctuary and home. In the Waterseller we, too, feel we have a significant stakehold in the city. The Asset and his private army of assets provide a personnel of valuable retainers, informers, saboteurs, enforcers, assassins and the support staff that come with such a retinue. Our man, Havanna is not to be underestimated let alone trifled with. Regardless he has served us well and despite the billions invested, the returns have been more than satisfactory. Information brokerage is currently a thriving industry due to his endeavors and success. Spice production and secret stockpiles are a concern for all in the known universe. Obviously more so for my employers. His life is forfeit to all sides, such is the risk of the game we play. Stakes are high. But is Havanna ours to control? "Soo soo sook!" One can never be sure?

Arrakeen was a city under siege from within. Rife in civil strife, borderline anarchy and martial law to boot. The city was a perfect storm of chaos, suitable for those inclined towards espionage and tradecraft. Talents our man Havanna has honed over the last three decades through both covert and overt operations in the field. The Guild funded these, with no expense spared as aforementioned. That is not to say that others had not sponsored these same ventures too, for that is the art of playing both ends and the middle simultaneously . The Waterseller exploits everything and everyone. "Soo soo sook!" The Waterseller is part myth part fable that intelligence services across the universe aspire to, such is his prowess and legend "Soo soo sook!" He once intentionally inflamed racial tensions in alpha sector just to create riots between Giedi Prime and Landsraad youths. This provided the distraction that tied up the garrison units while his city Fremen cohorts emptied the warehouses throughout Arrakeen of the Baron's secret stockpiles of spice. That galled the Baron beyond repair. In response the Harkonnen Public Force sent their best assassin teams after Havanna, one in particular - Bravo squad. Information was conveniently passed on of the Waterseller's whereabouts. The six Bravos disappeared behind the shield wall near the village of Windsack, never to be seen again. The Waterseller never looked back after that. "Soo soo sook!"

Our man in Arakkis was typical of a water soft Fremen. Pyon (one of the base classes) Fremen were urban dwellers despised and loathed by sietch Fremen. Ultimately, they were shunned by all. Yet the desert Fremen's treatment of the city Fremen over the centuries was appalling at best. Acts of genocide committed were not uncommon. The history of violence between the two was a tale of tragedy and woe that was passed between the generations, each one further victimised and displaced these native people of the cities. Although the non Fremen populations of Arrakeen did not murder the Pyon wholesale, it can not be said that they hated them any less than the desert folk. The engineering class of beta sector comprised mostly of Giedi Prime citizens and the CHOAM/Landsraad residents of alpha and delta constantly harassed the Pyon underclass with racial and bigoted behavior. Havanna, long ago, organized and galvanized the city Fremen. The Waterseller envisioned a city Fremen labour force as something else. Clandestine operatives. "Soo soo Sook." Here was the underclass that proliferated throughout the cities working in menial and domestic tasks, intrinsic in the day to day running of the city. From shadouts to catering to sanitation, there was no corner, nook or cranny that the Asset and his assets did not have eyes and ears on. Indirectly it would seem his power and influence was absolute. Our man had only to click his fingers for his workforce to strike. Arrakeen would cease to function. He had only to clap his hands and riots and crime waves would increase to catastrophic levels. He had only to point his finger at a person, a dossier, a building, a sector and his legion of enforcers, all adept in urban combat and warfare would seek to maim, kill and destroy. The Waterseller knew that people lived and died on his word and together with this ragtag legion of informants and irregulars they would reclaim their world. "Soo soo sook!"

‘Soo soo sook!’ Signified a call to arms or fair warning, even victory. Indeed, the Waterseller was at the height of his powers. He’d fleeced billions of solari over the years from everyone. The Guild mostly, the Emperor almost the same again, even the Baron, supposed Lord and master, felt the pinch, and not excluding Bene Gesserit, CHOAM and Landsraad all of whom also garnered his services. And there he was, in the marketplace, selling his literjons and the wet towels donated by affluent households. No one was the wiser that here was a spymaster general without compare and from the humblest of backgrounds. Still, underestimate our man at your own peril, as many have, even the sietch Fremen. According to reports, on the outskirts of the city, Havanna found himself alone, momentarily without his security detail when he encountered Mihna youths of the local sietch. Now these Fremen were prospects hoping to initiate into tribal manhood. The worst type to mess with. Young men with something to prove. "Well, water seller, what can we do for you this fine evening?" said the lead Mihna as they formed a triangle around him. The Asset was no warrior but he was no novice either. He primed the bang-flash sheathed on his hip belt throwing it at the feet of the startled trio, a quick roll into their blind spots allowed him to position himself into the correct stance to initiate strikes. One down already, "got him, 'Vanna," snarls the hidden sniper in his earpiece. Our man is on the second, with desert storm speed and from behind, viciously stomped downwards at the back of the Mihna's knee. Snap! The ensuing scream shocked all, and Havanna tossed him unceremoniously towards his stunned and still blinded kin. Havanna wasted no time slipping towards the remaining youth, simultaneously drawing his baradye pistol. But the youth held onto his throat as if trying to plug a collander leaking profusely. Someone had already made quick work of him. "Vanna why do you insist on being the Lone Wolf at the worst times?" sighed Graham, his trusted Lieutenant, relieved that he had returned just in time. Of course, the Waterseller's legend will say how he personally dispatched a dozen Fedaykin that day alone. "Soo soo sook!"

Our man's reputation came at a price. Such was his success and dominance in the intelligence game it brought ill upon his house and unfortunately his family. Due to a blood feud with one of the deeper desert sietch Fremen his family was kidnapped. No proof of life, their water taken for the tribe. That sietch exists no more. Havanna's stockpile of ordinance was fearsome. A small nuclear device was ignited and the area devastated, never to be entered for another fifty years without the ancient fallout suits. After that day the Asset's life changed. He would never work the field again; he would never take a wife or sire children again and for the rest of his days there remained a price on his head and kill orders from sietch Fremen all across Arrakis. Of course, the incident was covered up. The Baron cared less for thousands of wretched Fremen dead than the loss of face at the Imperial Court. That he could not control the populace and the visible internal turmoil seriously undermined his standing and could have threatened his hold on the spice contract. On the official report an overzealous trooper was turned scapegoat and quickly executed. The atomic explosion put down to an illegal firing of a lasgun on a personal shield and thus a simple Holtzman effect accident. Clearly the Baron needed our man dead too. How the Waterseller survived the onslaught of attempts on his life is a testament to his will and ingenuity. "Soo soo sook!" Havanna withdrew from overground operations and into the waiting protection of his fellow Pyon Fremen whom together became a force to be reckoned with in Arrakeen. The Waterseller could always rely upon their loyalty especially with their hatred for the sietch Fremen, which surpassed even their animosity toward the vile Harkonnen. "Soo soo sook!"

In the end our man is his own man. And not ours to control. The Asset is still an asset, nonetheless. We have all succumbed to his demands. We tithe heavily and he profits. Havanna ignores the massive Harkonnen Public Force garrisoned at Arrakeen. "' Vanna no show for the dignatories tonight," prides Graham and beams, "the Waterseller has spoken. Soo soo sook!" My service in the Guild as the primary handler of Havanna codenamed the Waterseller may be held in question? I have long felt the failure of the Asset going rogue. I assert that no intelligence officer could have predicted that outcome, considering the circumstances. That he duped us for so long was unforseen. That he out maneuvered and manipulated the best minds of the known universe the way he did seems an impossibility. How could we have known that when we engaged his services to gather intelligence, he was gathering our own at the same time? That we tithed so wantonly to him showed we had lost control. That we actually funded this superb network of Fremen agents completely proficient in the urban environment beggars belief. Havanna locked us out of our own operations, allowing him to create the tenuous position of him monopolizing all information thus neutralising alternative sources of covert business. He was too well protected, secreted in his city, for any termination orders to be successful. We were disbanded in bandit country. That a Fremen of low status was the architect of our failure in Arrakeen seriously underminined the stability of the tripartite of the Emperor, Landsraad and the spacing Guild. This was a travesty. That the Waterseller and his city Fremen won despite the odds, set our plans back decades, the repercussions, incalculable. "Soo soo sook!"

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itsgonnabe-brian-may · 5 years

Text

when water pipes burst

// Requested: No

warnings: fluff, swear words

Gwilym Lee x Reader

4k words - whoops my hand slipped

AN: Okay okay I literally haven’t written in sooo long and I randomly started writing this and I actually really like it. It’s not the best but I think the idea is cute lol. Please tell me what you think!! I’d also like to thank @isitstraightvodka for choosing between gwil and joe for me! Gwil I think is the perfect fit for this!

Anyways, enjoy!

A deep happy sigh slipped past your lips as you stared at the empty skeleton of your apartment. All your cheap furniture was packed up and in the process of being shipped across the world, or to the dumpster in all honesty. The pictures and decor hanging on your wall were neatly packed into boxes. The more precious ones were filed away in your suitcases along with articles of clothing that you were determined not to ruin or lose.

As cliche as last looks are you swore you saw your life in the cramped and overpriced apartment flash before your eyes.

The champagne bottle cap hitting and knocking out a ceiling lighting fixture during your christening party. Which was just an excuse to get shit-faced with your friends. It took you a year to get it fixed.

Your first long term relationship starting in passion on the couch... and ending in the same spot.

Movie marathons with your friends that ended in throwing popcorn and falling asleep halfway through the third movie.

The coffee table that earned its name due to the ridiculous amount of coffee spilled on it.

Sitting on the floor cross-legged in front of it as you studied for your final exams before graduation.

Having sloppy and hilarious sex on it. Whoops.

The doormat that was barely used with the words "Welcome" written in a neat script was still crisp.

Getting a roommate when your ass of a landlord raised the rent by $300. She turned out pretty cool. Even though she refused to touch the dishes. Her decorating and wing-woman skills made up for it.

Though eventually, your lease ran out, you graduated from school, she got a ring for her left hand and you got a new job.

A new job in England. England. That's where your belongings were being shipped off to.

"Shit! I have to get to the airport" you thought as the memories in your mind dissolved.

One final final look around the place you closed the door and locked it. Taking the key off the key ring was painstaking but eventually, you got it off and placed it on the counter in the landlord's office.

Walking down the stairs, lugging your suitcase behind you. You heaved it into the trunk of your Uber and sat in the front seat.

The drive to the airport was somber, at least at first. The downtown traffic caused conversation to blossom between you and the driver. It was a welcome distraction.

The distraction lasted as you sat next to a lovely older woman who was returning home from visiting her children.

9 hours later you stood at the front door of your new home for the next 2 years, at least on paper.

You fought the urge to knock.

"This is actually my home" you laughed out loud and turned the key.

This apartment, or rather "flat" now that you were in the UK, was nothing like your previous one.

The walls were white and filled with windows that looked out onto a scenic view of the town's skyline of tree's and other complexes. You had a balcony that shared a wall with your neighbors to the left.

The interior was a unique architecture, the kitchen was tiny but the living room was big and open with enough space for entertaining.

Abandoning your suitcase at the entrance you went to explore. Sure you'd seen this apartment already online. But not everything is exactly what it seems on the internet.

The master, and only, bedroom was gorgeous. The bathroom attached was small but it was only you, so you didn't mind. A spare room was a spare room and there was plenty of storage which was unusual for a single person apartment.

That night you ordered take out and created shopping lists and plans to execute before you had to start work in a week or so. You blew up an air mattress and tried to sleep in your new room. Unsurprisingly, you tossed and turned until you ended up staring at the ceiling. The small crack made you laugh. The crack seemed to be the only flaw that the apartment had.

Sleep overtook you, the silence of your neighbors surely helped.

If only you knew the storm that was your neighbor. Gwilym Lee.

The tall and deadly handsome man was gentlemanly and sophisticated. His flat was farm from the usual bachelor pad of his friends. The man had linen curtains for Christ sake. Yet, he was a ball of uncontrollable energy when he hosted people at his house, which was as often and led late into the night.

This time the lack of noise was mostly due to the fact that he was currently not home. He was currently off in Brighton shooting for Midsomer Murders. Though he was due to return within the next couple of days.

His days coincidentally mirrored yours.

Waking up at around seven in the morning, going for a cup of tea, or coffee in your case. Then showering and headed out to run errands, or in his case shoot a scene. Returning home, cleaning up, ordering or going out for food and laying in bed planning tomorrow.

After a few days, his current shoot ended and he was headed home. First stopping at the grocer to pick up food for a dinner party. You were at the same grocer and gave the tall man a polite smile as you passed each other in the aisle.

His gaze lingered on you. For multiple reasons. One reason being he had never seen you before, and it was a small town with only one market, which mostly the people in his apartment complex shopped at. The other being you were quite attractive, even in your "I'm just going to the grocery store outfit".

Your gaze lingered too. Again for multiple reasons. He was attractive, put together and it looked like he was going to throw one hell of a party. In a weird way, it made you hopeful for your future in England.

A party would have to wait, your apartment was still in shambles.

All of your furniture arrived in mostly one piece. The boxes full of pictures and kitchen utensils lay stacked and partially open. That was your date tonight. Decorating.

Grabbing a bottle of rosé on the way to the register was a spur of the moment decision, but a good one.

Once you made your short journey home you put away the groceries and opened the bottle. Taking a small sip from the bottle before pulling out a glass and pouring yourself a generous portion. Finally, you pulled out your phone and connected it to your speaker. Putting your music on shuffle you began filing through all of the boxes.

Gwil arrived home and heard muffled music through his walls.

'Sounds like someone finally moved in,' He thought to himself.

Instead of rifling through boxes he looked through recipes and began cooking. With music of course.

When you heard the same artist but a different song come from the other side of the wall you laughed. Your new neighbor had good taste in music, you'd have to tell them sometime.

The sun slowly dipped under the horizon and moonlight drifted into your home. The hum of music was at a lower volume creating a peaceful atmosphere. Talking and laughing came from the other side of the wall. It didn't bother you. In turn, it made you feel more at home. Lulls in conversation created an ambiance that you couldn't explain. Your music filled those quiet moments. Even Gwil noticed it.

He had been too preoccupied with his friends to notice that the music had continued into the night. Lucy was actually the one to notice first. The last time her, Rami, Joe and Ben had been over there was no music, no sound from the apartment on the right. Of course, her keen ear was always open to hear a song she loved. She had asked Gwil what song was playing.

"Um, I'm not playing any music. It must be the neighbor," He laughed his face contorting with slight confusion.

"Oh, haha, well they've got great taste," Lucy laughed before refilling her own glass of rosé and joining the others on the sofa.

At around 11 Gwil hugged and thanked his guests goodbye. Sighing happily he began cleaning up. However, it didn't last long when a startled scream replaced the quiet.

You had finally finished the living room when you went into your room and flopped onto your bed, exhausted.

To your surprise your duvet was wet. You stood back up and looked up at the crack in your ceiling. With your luck the second you looked up the water pipe burst, spraying cold water all over you. You couldn't stop the scream that came from your now wet lips.

"Holy fuck!" You yelped.

A loud banging came from your front door. It was Gwil, who had rushed over as soon as he heard your scream.

You swung the door open and looked at the man from the grocery store. He was dressed to the nines in a light blue polo shirt tucked into a pair of brown slacks. Of course, you looked a mess. You were soaking, your hair clung to your face, your mascara had definitely smeared under your eyes.

"Oh my, are you alright?" He asked, not able to suppress the shock on his face. It certainly wasn't what he was expecting.

"Um, yea, just a bit wet," you laughed, trying to move the hair from your face.

"Well, I'm glad you're alright, but what happened?" He asked stepping past your door frame after you.

"I guess a water pipe broke, I'm not entirely sure,"

What you didn't expect was for him to get under the stream of water himself and try and sort out the problem. With no avail, but it was a kind gesture. You quickly scrambled and found a plastic moving bin and put it under the stream to attempt to collect some of the water.

"Let me call the landlord to shut off the water," Gwil spoke up, brushing his own wet hair back.

"Oh god, I'm sorry I dragged you into this," You apologized profusely.

"Hush, it's no big deal," He chuckled placing his phone to his ear.

During the brief phone call, you grabbed your own phone, a bag and threw some dry clothes into it. You started looking for a hotel to stay at until the problem was fixed.

"What are you doing, love?" Gwil asked leaning over your shoulder. Your heart soared at the nickname, god he was cute.

"Looking for a hotel, because I don't think I want to sleep in my flooded apartment," You laughed not looking up.

"Nonsense, stay with me while it gets fixed," He responded with sincerity.

"I can't intrude like that, It's alright, It'll only be a few days," You smiled up at him.

"I insist, at least for tonight, It's nearly midnight," He challenged raising an eyebrow.

"Fine, only for tonight," You said matching his gaze.

"And because you're cute," You mumbled under your breath afterward following him out. You didn't think he heard you but he did and smiled opening his door to his flat.

"This is awkward but I seem to have rudely never asked you for your name... I'm Gwilym, but call me Gwil."

"Oh! It's nice to meet you formally Gwil, I'm Y/N".

"Well, Y/N, I'm sorry it's such a mess...".

"You've seen my apartment right?" You laughed.

"I guess your right," He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

"If you want to hop in the shower or change, the bathroom is down the hall on the right. Just shout if you need anything,"

"Thanks," You smiled and retreated to the bathroom. You couldn't help but laugh when you were greeted by your mess of a reflection. Pulling off your wet clothes you wrung them out in the sink and hung them on the shower rod to dry. Grabbing a towel you dried yourself off and dried your hair to the point that it was a bit frizzy but it wasn't sticking to you anymore. You were slightly upset that you didn't bring anything cuter to wear. After putting on a pair of legging and a tank top you walked out. Gwil had also changed. He was currently wearing dark grey joggers and a long sleeve. You shivered slightly, not thinking to bring a sweater, even though you normally would've worn one at home.

"Here," Gwil smiled handing you a hoodie.

"That obvious huh?" You laughed pulling the warm fabric over your head, slowing down slightly to enjoy the faint smell of his cologne.

His breath hitched slightly when your smile popped out from the hoodie. It had been a while since he'd seen a girl in his clothes, and he couldn't imagine anyone it would look better on.

"Thanks, Gwil," You smiled.

"It's nothing, love," He smiled back walking over to the couch with a pillow and blankets.

You could tell that he was going to try and sleep on the couch, that was arguably too small for him to sleep on so you took the chance and sat down before he could.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

"Taking the couch," You smiled innocently.

"Take the bed, I insist," He challenged.

"Nope, If you're so adamant about sleeping on the couch your going to have to share it with me," You shot back, blushing slightly at the unintended implications.

"Oh, I see," Gwil laughed amused.

"Thanks again," You yawned looking briefly at your phone which read 12:06.

"It's no problem, love, goodnight," He smiled and turned to go to his room.

"Goodnight Gwil," You smiled and leaned back until you were laying down.

You stared up at the ceiling, there was no crack. It made you laugh before shifting and falling into a peaceful sleep.

Of course moving meant a new time zone which you weren't totally used to so you woke up quite late. As soon as you woke up you sat up rubbing your eyes and checked the time. Your eyes widened and looked outside, it was raining. Great. What really was great was the fact that Gwil hadn't woken up yet. He was exhausted from filming all week and last nights wild activities.

Gently you padded out of his complex into yours. You changed, brushed your teeth, and flicked on some mascara. Before leaving you made a cup of coffee and grabbed some newly bought ingredients to make a simple breakfast as a thank you.

When you returned you could hear the water running. Smiling you began cooking. You had no idea what Gwil liked, whether he drank coffee or tea, liked blueberries or how he liked his eggs cooked. So you created an assortment of foods. Cut up fruit and toast with options of butter, cheese, avocado or eggs. All while humming quietly to yourself.

Gwil stepped out of the shower and noticed two things. The humming and the smell of whole grain toast, which always smells better when your not the one cooking. Intrigued, he pulled on a pair of dark grey joggers and a maroon Tshirt and walked into the kitchen. It took everything in him to not wrap his arms around your waist from behind.

"What's all this?" He asked, his voice still laced with sleep.

"Just a thank you gesture," You smiled turning around to face him.

"I already told you it wasn't a big deal," He sighed but couldn't get mad at you, especially since he was hungry.

"Tea?" He asked walking around you to a cupboard.

"No thanks, I've already got some coffee."

His nose scrunched up, "Ugh, I don't know how you drink that stuff."

"Well, I don't know how you can drink tea, its basically slightly flavored hot water," You laughed raising an eyebrow.

He playfully scoffed. "You'll learn."

"I'm not too sure about that," You challenged back before falling into a casual conversation.

The next couple of mornings were spent the same way. Waking up on the couch with stiff shoulders, making breakfast, trying to get the other to drink your preferred caffeinated drink and falling into a conversation that sometimes led to sitting on the couch all day. You talked about your previous life and your new job. He talked about his acting and friends. Sometimes you would turn on the radio or a playlist and work side by side in comfortable silence. Most days ended with a glass of wine on the couch watching a classic British TV series or a movie. Though Gwil would not show you Midsomer Murders despite your begging.

Each night you drifted closer and closer. Your knees touching, Gwil's arm around the back of the couch. Hands grazing when doing dishes or lingering touches when moving past one another. Both of you wished for more contact but didn't want to impose or assume the other felt the same thing. However, both of you agreed that you felt like you had known each other for ages and enjoyed spending time together.

You got the call from your landlord that the pipe would be finally done tomorrow morning at 10. Meaning one more night with Gwil. In the beginning, you were anticipating and ready to get your flat back, but now you just wanted to stay. It was nice with a roommate. Especially with Gwil as your roommate. On the other hand, you definitely were ready to sleep in a bed again. The plan had been to alternate and every night Gwil tried to get you to sleep in his bed. Of course, you were stubborn and didn't. Sure his couch was nice but you awoke with stiff shoulders. You could handle one more day on the couch.

However, after your first day at your new job left you exhausted. Letting yourself into the apartment with Gwil's spare key you sighed. Happy to be home.

As you kicked off your shoes and put your bag down you noticed that it smelled good. Really good.

"Gwil, honey, are you cooking?" You asked with a wide smile, your question answered once you walked into the kitchen where Gwil was wearing an apron and mixing something on the stove. Two glasses of wine set out on the island where it had been set nicely with placemats and fancy napkin foldings.

"Maybe," He said drawing the word out with a toothy grin.

"God, you're the best."

"Does that mean you'll try some tea?" "NO" You laughed.

You couldn't wipe the grin off of your face as you went and changed.

Dinner was amazing and you found yourself thanking him and staring at him blissfully. Gwil noticed but didn't notice his own staring.

After doing the dishes you ended up going to the usual movie on the couch. Halfway through the movie you still couldn't get comfortable. You were stiff and trying not to disturb the movie but Gwil, being the observant man he could tell something was off.

"Are you alright?" He asked shifting his gaze, not having to do too much to look at you as you were already closed.

"Yea, I'm just a little stiff and tired," You said with a reassuring smile. The last thing you wanted to do was make it a big deal out of it.

"Anything I can do?" He asked.

"No, but do you mind if we finish the movie another time?"

"Not at all, love, to bed you go," He said smiling, not moving.

"Well, you kind of in my bed..." You laughed looking at him.

"Oh no! I guess you'll just have to use mine," He teased back, not wanting you to sleep on the couch again.

"Gwil, come on," You said raising your eyebrows and tilting your head.

"Nope, I'll carry you if I have to," "Yeah right," You laughed.

You were proved wrong because the next second a strong pair of arms picked you up.

"Gwil!!" You squealed as you carried you to his bedroom. You protested as much as you could through laughter. As soon as you were put down you jumped up and tried to run away. His lean arms caught you around your waist and pulled your laughing self back to the bed. Gwil was laughing too, as he picked you up by your waist and plopped you down on the bed.

"Stay." He laughed down at you.

"Am I your dog now or what?" You teased propping yourself up onto your elbows.

At the movement, Gwil put his hands on your shoulders.

"If you don't I'm going to pin you down until you fall asleep," He said, trying to be serious but failing to keep laughter contained.

"Oh really?"

"Don't believe me?"

"Okay fine I do," You yawned

Reluctantly he removed his hands and stood back up. However, it was your turn to stop him. You shot your hand out and grabbed his wrist gently.

"Stay?" You blurted out.

"I mean, I can't make you sleep on the couch, you can barely sit on it. This bed is big enough for the two if us.." You rambled trying to hide heat on your cheeks.

"Alright," He yawned with a smile. His heart was beating out of his chest as he clambered into his bed after you.

"Goodnight Gwil," You smiled turning your back to him, offering some space.

"Goodnight Caridad," He mumbled coping your positioning.

The new nickname made you fall into slumber with a smile on your face. The smile stayed as you shifted into Gwil's arms during your sleep. Your heads stayed on separate pillows but his arms snaked their way around your waist while your hand rested on his chest.

When you woke, your first thought was 'This is nice, this is the best I've slept in a long time'. However, your thought was replaced by panic. 'Shit, this is definitely stepping over some boundary'. Instead of untangling yourself without waking up Gwil, you decided to drift back into a blissful sleep. Later, Gwil woke up just as surprised and happy. Though he had plans to make you breakfast this time, so he carefully and reluctantly unraveled himself from your limbs.

Not much longer than 15 minutes after Gwil left you woke back up. You decided to not say anything as you walked into the kitchen seeing Gwil donning an apron again.

"What's all this?" You asked, your voice still laced with sleep.

"Just a 'you're welcome' gesture," He smiled turning around to face you, much like your first morning at his apartment.

"Seriously, you're too good to me," You smiled happily up at him.

"Does this mean you'll try some tea this morning?"

You laughed and looked like you were considering his offer. "Not in a million years,"

"Whatever," He laughed and gave you a plate with pancakes.

Breakfast went by too quickly, of course, the intriguing conversation didn't help it go by any slower. Unfortunately, you had a meeting with the landlord soon and wanted to shower and change. Gwil shot down your offer to do the dishes and told you that'd he do them later. He picked up your bag and you both slowly made your down the hall to your room. Stopping in front of it.

"Thank you for everything," You smiled up at him, gently taking you bag and placing it inside.

"Anytime, It's not a big deal," He smiled leaning against your door frame.

Something came over him at the prospect of you going back to your lives before meeting each other. He didn't want to lose what you had. In his mind, the only way to make sure was to kiss you. So he did.

At first, you were shocked. Gwil was kissing you. Fortunately, your hands worked their way up to cup his chin as you reciprocated the kiss. Pulling away he was smiling like an idiot. So were you.

"See you around?" He grinned and turned to make the 4-meter journey back to his own flat.

"See you around, neighbor," You laughed happily.

You shut the door to your flat and leaned against it, smiling like a damn fool. You were glad you had moved into your apartment. Burst water pipes and all.

183 notes · View notes

hollandroos · 5 years

Text

Seven Minutes - Tom Holland

Summary: A car, eyes cast on the backseat, a red light and a truck. Four things that spell out trouble. You look back on exactly what happened and the aftermath.

Warnings: Blood, car accidents, dangerous driving, hospitals. Please don’t read if any of this will trigger you. This does have a good ending.

Words: 2398 - remember to reblog it if you liked it!

The lyrics are from ‘autumn leaves’ by Ed Sheeren and @neptuneparker helped me tons with this concept! I love cora so much, go check out her work :)

Greenlight. It was a green light. You were sure of it.

Your foot was on the accelerator, you glanced back to help him find your bag. He muttered something and at the time you weren’t sure what it was. At the time you hadn’t thought twice because you were so used to bickering back and forth but now you had deciphered it after hours of sitting in the chilling hospital waiting room. He told you to pay attention to the road, that he had it sorted.

Before you left, he told you that his seatbelt wasn’t going in and you told him that it would be okay. That you were a safe driver because never in your life had you been in an accident or even been pulled over by the police but there was always a time for firsts only you didn’t believe that up until now. You told him that he’d be okay and you shrugged off the fact that other drivers weren’t as safe as you as you turned up the sound of Ed Sheeran on the radio and bopped your head to lyrics that’d soon appear in every one of your nightmares.

“Babe, my seatbelt isn’t going in.” Your boyfriend complains, trying almost forcefully to get the two pieces together.

Keys rattle between fingertips, your phone ticking down the minutes until you’d be late for your family gathering. You could only picture your mother's face if you turned up even five minutes late. You could already hear her scolding you for never being on time and turn on the ignition, feeling the car roar to life beneath you.

“It’s not even ten minutes away, we’ll be alright.” You tell him, one hand going to the radio station as the other guides the car safely out of your driveway. Ed Sheeran's voice rings through the speakers and with a shrug, Tom leaves the belt unbuckled.

Another mind, another soul Another body to grow old It's not complicated

Even with your eyes trained on the road, you were aware of the fact that he was wearing a blue hoodie that you swore he stole from the far from home set and a white shirt underneath with a pair of form-fitting jeans. You may have stolen a few sideways glances and Tom may have caught you once or twice. He looked nothing less then handsome with his hair left naturally, tousled around after a few strokes with his hands and you ignore the desire to fix that one curl in the front that hangs over his forehead.

“Honey, can you please grab my bag from the back seat and text my mum, just to let her know that we’re on the way?” You ask, sliding your bottom lip between your teeth. Ed sings a soft love song, whispering words that were spoken between sheets for the two of you and the promise ring on your finger is cool against the steering wheel.

Float down Like autumn leaves Hush now

Tom reaches over, reaching into the backseat and tries to find the bag but with no success, he furrows his brows. Your backseat was a mess, sure, but he hadn’t realised just how bad it was until now.

“I can’t find it, are you sure you put it behind here? Maybe we left it at home? Shit, babe, we really need to clean this car.” He chuckles, hand landing on a golf club from three weeks ago.

You screw your face up, slouching in your seat and glance into the side mirror to check for cars. The roads seemed rather empty today and for that you were thankful. But rain pelts against your front window, competing with the sound of the radio and your small words going back and forth. Little bickers defeating the purpose of having the radio on in the first place and windshield wipers sing out.

“No, I know I put it there before we left. Here let me have a feel.” You try, guiding one hand off of the wheel. It was okay because the roads weren’t busy and you were only seven minutes away and it was okay because nothing could go wrong, right? Seven minutes.

Tom shakes his head, continuing to feel around. He had better access without a seatbelt on and winces when he stretches his arm too far, not being able to squeeze it into some of the small gaps. “Pay attention to the road, love, I got it.” He prompts.

“No, I know it’s here, just let me…” You grunt, not finding anything before huffing. For a quick moment you take your eyes off of the road, seeing a green light ahead and look into the backseat and bingo– your toffee coloured purse sat on the floor right next to his gym bag. You knew that the second you opened it you’d stain the car walls with the smell of spearmint gum. “I told you I had it, you just didn’t look hard enough–”

Tom sees it first. He sees the truck come racing towards the two of you, running a red light and travelling over the speed limit but it’s ready to hit your car with such a force that he knows he may not make it out because people didn’t just survive these things. A truck horn blars and Toms' ears begin to ring and all he can think about is you as time travels in slow motion.

You, who’s turned away from the vehicle and you who’s mumbling something about your bag and you who still didn’t have your eyes on the road and Tom throws himself in front of you, arm keeping you still in your seat because god– if anything happened to you he would never forgive himself. Tom shuts coffee brown eyes, taking one last breath.

“Watch out!”

Close your eyes before the sleep

You hadn’t stopped tapping your foot since they made you take a seat in that creaky chair. It dug into your back, making ugly noises every time you so much as moved an inch and other people gave you weird looks. You couldn’t care less about the fact that you were waiting in the waiting room with a bandage around your head and stitches beneath your eye with a blanket they’d scrapped out of one of the storage closets draped around your shoulders. It was warm, yes, but you were still freezing.

Two seats away from you a little boy sits, picking at the edge of the seat. He pulls apart the wood before his mother scolds him and tells him to sit still but even still his legs kick back and forth, knocking against the leg chairs and it reminds you of the sickening sound of the truck driver banging against the side of his car for help, wailing for support as he forces himself out of his truck.

Seven seats away is an older man around eighty. His eyes are drawn together and the bags beneath them tell you that he hasn’t slept for days. His hair, grey and tangled was long overgrown and for a second you forget all about your own pain to focus on his.

But sometimes its damn near impossible to escape your own reality for too long.

Goosebumps sit on your arms and legs and you shiver profusely with eyes glazed over with pure pain but not pain that rooted from your wounds or the fact that you’d have to explain to the police that he hadn’t had a seatbelt on and you hadn’t been watching the road, but the pain that rooted from the picture that was ingrained in your mind. Haunting you.

The sound of the radio was just as broken as the windshield, words coming out cracked and muffled. There’s a ringing in your ears and a sharp pain in your head coming from every angle and your mouth opens only no words come out at the sight of your seemingly lifeless boyfriend hanging through the front window.

Only you were screaming. There was a harsh ringing in your ears, preventing you from hearing the deafening sound of your own screams and wails and the screeching of other vehicles coming to a halt and the calls for help from the lightheaded truck driver who climbs out of his shattered vehicle on his hands and knees. Glass impales his cheeks and backs of his hands and blood poured from his upper arm but you wouldn’t know that, because your eyes weren’t on him.

And you're miles away

“Tom…” You feel your lips move but you don’t hear the words. “Tommy, baby, please wake up.” You plead but he doesn’t move and there’s glass everywhere, scattered across the dashboard and you choke at the sight of sickly crimson soaking the white tee beneath his coat. “We need to go to my moms, baby.” You cry, a metallic taste settling on the tip of your tongue.

Usually, Tom would respond in no more then a second at the sound of your voice. He always said he was drawn to it like a kid to a candy store but this time he doesn’t even budge. “She’ll be waiting for us, Tom, please.”

And you thrash around as they pull you from the wreck, entire body engulfed in pain and it begged you just to give in but you couldn’t when they pulled Tom from the wreck. You were close enough to see his face hidden beneath a sickly layer of reacking blood as the paramedic kept a deathly grip on your arm and you swore you’d never needed to see those bright brown eyes so desperately.

You thrash and fight because Tom always promised that he’d be okay if you were with him so you can’t leave him now– because if you left him then he wouldn’t be okay and you needed him to be okay.

And yesterday you were here with me

A doctor with an ugly haircut and a fake smile plastered across powdered cheeks calls his last name, one that was soon to be yours too and if you weren’t injured then you would’ve jumped out of your seat, thrown the blanket off of your shoulders and shouted praises. But the blanket was your only current source of comfort despite it smelling funny, so you draw it closer to your chest, regretfully breathing in the smell of medicines and disinfectant and you wonder if the doctor's sympathy was fake too. Or maybe you were just emotional.

“That’s my fiance.” You announce, fear trapped between muttered words and the nurse nods her head, strands of red hair falling over nude lips. His parents were expected to rush in at any moment. “Is he okay?”

It may have been a question, allowing infinite answers but there was only one answer you wanted– one answer you needed. You needed to hear that he was okay and laying up in bed right now with a cheeky smile, pestering the nurses for more jelly cups and waiting for you to walk in so that he could scold you for now listening when he said he had it sorted.

She nods her head towards the hall where the blinding white was calling your name, demanding you crawl with your heart out and more pain then you could muster to the boy who lay stiff due to a few mistakes.

“Come with me.”

Another tear, another cry

Heavy footsteps make their way down the hall and you follow, practically floating on air as you drag your feet along the floor and people give you pitiful looks, seeing the broken girl with the heavy eyes and seemingly limp limbs. Though for a second you fear they’re looks of accusation. Suddenly you’ve never wanted to be invisible so badly and you hope that the blanket will just hurry up and swallow you whole.

His room was room 307. Seven’s Toms favourite number and it’s how many minutes away you were from making it to your parent's house and it’s the amount of time you were in the car before the ambulance arrived.

The nurse leaves you in the room and you’re glad because the second she does leave, you allow your tears to fall. He looked… you didn’t even know. See Tom never looked anything less then beautiful but beautiful isn’t the word you should use when someone is lying stiff in a hospital bed, connected to endless wires and fighting for their life. Swallowing back sobs, you stop next to his bed, taking a seat on the seat that sits next to the thing and hesitates before speaking up.

“I’ve seen a lot of bad, Tom. I’ve seen enough to drive some people mad.” You speak softly, playing with the blanket that hung off of the side of his assigned bed. “But you… you aren’t the bad, and that’s why you need to fight and get yourself out of this mess.”

The hospital blanket is thin, barely covering his torso so you shrug your own off and place it over him carefully, picking at the stray pieces of cotton hanging over the side as his chest moves up and down peacefully. You hope he’s warm, but now you’re cold, suffering the wrath of the hospital AC that seeps into the room and you knew that if he was awake he’d tell you to stop being so selfless and take the damn thing back. But he’s not awake.

Another place for us to die

The monitor next to the bed taunts you, threatening to go flat at any moment but it signifies that he’s still alive and suddenly you’re able to accept it. But what you can’t accept is the fact that his hand is so, icy cold as you place yours in his. You take it anyway, hoping that he could feel you there and maybe hoping that that’d be enough to get him to open his eyes.

Seven minutes. That’s how long it takes him to wake up and smile back at you. It takes another seven seconds for him to ask what happened, and fifteen for him to tell you that it wasn’t your fault and twenty seconds for him to tell you that he loves you more then the moon loves the stars.

Is it that it's over or do birds still sing for you?

Please remember to reblog or send me an ask telling me what you thought of this

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#tom holland #Tom Holland fanfic #Tom Holland fanfiction #Tom Holland imagines #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland x reader insert #Tom Holland angst #Tom Holland oneshot #Tom Holland au #Tom Holland x reader angst #marvel fanfiction

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brothermouzongaming · 5 years

Text

Divisiveness in Rage 2

What little promotional material there was for Rage 2 interested me. The idea of a nitro-fueled FPS surrounding an open world and a heavy power fantasy. I wasn’t expecting an enthralling story with deep and rich characters that would stitch me into the fabric of the world created. I was expecting a rip-roaring hail of bullets in the shape of a gun the likes of which I would ride across the map destroying everything that did so much as exhale in my presence. In short, that is what I got but it’s quite mixed. The “boots on the ground” combat, and I use that term lightly, is smooth as hell and lets you the player take on the various mobs and gangs of the wasteland in the way you want. The vehicular combat is more sparse and anecdotal in the sense that they are typically randomly occurring events as opposed to the convoy routes. The world itself is big but not Horizon Zero Dawn or Assassin’s Creed Odyssey “oh my god how did they even fit all this on one disc” big, it’s more than manageable. The biomes are varied and impressive in detail despite some being more vacant than I’d like. All in all, it’s at the very least better than the bland world of Rage 1, and at best it’s a gorgeous backdrop for the best FPS action since Doom 2016.

Anger Surrounds

There isn’t a lot in the way of introduction and it’s cause the game and it’s creators understand what you’re here for: shooty bang. You literally pick a gender and are handed a gun. After the first big firefight, the world is literally open to you. This exploration is encouraged because you don’t gain abilities or weapons unless you find Arks which are silos scattered around the map. Normally I’d be mad about another icon cluttering the map but it’s at least a way of getting stronger while discovering the hovels and holes your enemies hide in, grabbing some cash and feltrite (upgrade currency) along the way. It’s essentially the best version of the Far Cry towers ever.

The world is very pretty both graphically and from an art direction aspect. Boggy swamps, desert, rocky canyons, and even suburbia is sprinkled into the colorful and sometimes striking scenery of the world around you. Some structures are established like roadblocks, resource stations, or mutant nests, some are just dressing to fill out the world, but the best is the elaborate gang camps that go from close quarters combat to open courtyards that have you working with cover and elevation. Most main and side mission areas appear to be carefully designed to be engaging set pieces that vary from open lots littered with obstacles to break up the battlefield and enhance the functionality of some abilities. If the map itself doesn’t grab you, the way the world is designed to make combat as fun as possible definitely will.

Walker Wasteland Ranger tonight at 9

Rage 1 very much gave you the feeling of having your back against the wall. In Rage 2 if you ever find yourself in that situation you push off that wall and crush whatever is in your way into misy and gristle. You are the baddest thing breathing and everything in this game is about making you feel that. I can’t tell if the progression is deep or cleverly padded and that might be fine by me, I haven’t decided yet. When you first see how many currencies there are in the game it makes anyone that knows what AAA games have been doing lately sweat profusely. Fortunately, Rage 2 gives you plenty of opportunities to load up on the kind of cash you spend in stores, the kind on upgrades, weapon skins and mods, it's all here for you to take when you want it you just have to kill a bunch of baddies to get it. Thankfully there isn’t a single gun that doesn’t feel incredible and unique. From the way the rifle spits a volley or the kick from the shotgun; all of them are a dream and when used in tandem with the abilities it makes for very enticing gameplay. The abilities span all aspects of combat and their refresh time doesn’t allow them to be spammed but lets a player that bounces from skill to skill always have one refresh by the time the effect of the current one wears off. They really found a way for the guns to play into abilities and vice-versa which only makes spicing up combat easier. In Destiny when you throw a grenade, that’s it. Did you use your melee? Oh that’s cool but, that’s also it. In Rage 2 I can mix up abilities to create different means of destruction and death in a much more satisfying way. Even the more nuanced abilities like the Rush and Focus are used to bolster the minimal downtime firefights give you.

From McQueen to Mater

The sixteen vehicles are divisive stars of Rage 2 and it really shows, alongside the facelifted combat, that Id and Avalanche tried to not lose sight of what the original game was focussed around. This rendition’s vehicular combat is much better with weighty pit maneuvers and pretty smart auto tracking from turrets. Alongside this, the vehicles simply must be redone Mad Max vehicles Avalanche never got to use or something cause they just work in a way Bethesda hasn’t been able to claim in a long time. The Phoenix, your signature ride, is the best of both worlds with it being quick and tanky with a litany of additions you can make to it. You’ll see vehicles that have no weapons (why would you even), some speedsters that drop nuke mines behind them, a tank that is slower than frozen shit but also practically indestructible and armed to the teeth. There is fast travel but there is also the Icarus which is a hoverbike and though it can handle like a shopping cart with one wing (more on that later). When it does work its nice to get to where you’re going quicker meanwhile not missing out on any points of interest along the way to where you’re going. Vehicular combat is serviceable and engaging once you get the controls under your fingers.

rAGED

I don’t have too many issues with this game, some are typical nitpicks but others are definitely more egregious. The world though colorful and varied is very “basic open world game” format, I was kind of hoping for some kind of expansion on a version of game we are wildly overly saturated with. The mini games like MobTV and races (which make a comeback from the original) are great but the typical icon littered map is a little draining at times. Which brings me to the endgame because with consideration of just how last gen this game seems to be design wise, I fear they didn’t think about something as “modern” as having an endgame model outside of the season pass and totally unnecessary “live service” content drops. I feel like they missed their own mark and could’ve really populated the world with quite a few more enemies but instead, there are a lot of times where it’s actually quite isolated even in some intriguing areas.

Oh, and every situation that yields dialogue in the open world is wildly repetitive like the writers could not be fucked to give the character anything more than the one decent line you get to hear when approaching a mutant nest, gas station, or bandit hideout or the mobile trader oh my god it’s absolutely torturous especially when you don’t feel like returning to a town and they typically come around fairly consistently.

Back to the Icarus flying bike thing. Mother Fuck that thing can be absolutely unbearable. You see the right trigger merely starts the engines with minor altitude control, the left trigger lowers yourself. The vehicle is supposed to identify altitude and the height of oncoming structures and mountain faces on its own and adjust automatically. But it doesn’t and you’re often sitting there like a fucking idiot ramming into every mountain and building you come across. Why didn’t they map an ascend and descend control to the face buttons? How did no one catch how lopsided that thing controls?

Let’s continue to discuss vehicles, shall we? I talked about the good of the actual combat and the weapons it comes with. What I didn’t talk about was how the controls for said vehicles go from tight and responsive to sludgey and “too fast for the game”. It’s like the vehicle is going too fast for your controller. So many times I’ve gone sailing over the cliffside curve or undercutting and completely killing my momentum. The margin for error is really thin.

The progression system for weapons is...suspect. On the surface, it’s deep, you unlock tiers of upgrades with feltrite and then use upgrade/mod tokens to select the actual mod itself. It seems really unnecessary to have to purchase the ability to spend your tokens to upgrade your weapon. Just typing that made my brain fuzzy, it’s too many steps. At least with the skills each tier in itself comes with a boost to that specific skill but with weapons, you’re literally just adding steps for now real reason. Thankfully there’s no connection to monetization or anything like that. What it does have though is a premium currency for weapon skins which....whoopie...but thankfully that really is the extent of it. Not that it’s okay at all.

Conclusion

People are gonna compare this game to Far Cry New Dawn and I don’t believe many should give too much thought to that comparison. Outside of the bright post-apocalyptic setting (an aesthetic Rage 2 established first for the record), I feel like Rage 2 is more consistent in what it sets out to deliver. Not to mention the combat is just head and shoulders better in Rage 2 and if you go in knowing you won’t leave with a story that changed your life or even really impact you at all but instead expect a white knuckle shooter designed to keep you on your toes and keep the kill count increasing. This game is fun and once this goes on sale there will literally be no excuse.

tl;dr I give Rage 2 an 7 but I can’t stress this enough this is one of the best First Person Shooters I’ve ever played from a mechanics standpoint. The game appears to be this good despite the rest of the game design and execution.

#Rage 2 #bethesda game studios #id software #avalanche studios #video games #gaming

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stonathans-stranger · 5 years

Note

stonathan prompt: steve is mind possessed by the demogorgon and forced to fight jonathan, but j refuses to harm him. steve eventually comes to and realises hat he’s done but jonathan is already unconscious and bleeding on the ground (bonus if it’s raining for Dramatique Effect™️) thanks so much!!!

just reading this prompt made me laugh and want to cry at the same time, thank you for such a creative prompt!! TW for non descriptive gore in the beginning. Coming in at 1748 words, here’s “Take That Look From Off Your Face”, inspired by Don’t Look Back in Anger by Oasis, I highly suggest you listen to it while reading. (idk why but i read the prompt and this song immediately jumped to the front of my mind, the beat reminds me of rain and the lyrics remind me of jonathan for some reason) ANYWAYS

Jonathan raced down the hallway, Dustin hot on his heels. The lights in the Lab were flashing, driving Jonathan nuts. Blood covered the walls, and bodies laid scattered on the floor, dressed in high military gear.

“Holy shit!” Dustin screamed, leaping over a body to keep up with Jonathan. Jonathan could hardly hear him over the blaring sirens. ‘Too little too late’, he thought. The place was fucking destroyed. Walls were crumbling, and ceiling tiles lay on the floor behind him and Dustin. The others, excluding Dustin, Nancy, Steve and himself were at Starcourt, including El.

The realization hit Jonathan too late.

“It’s here.” He shouted to no one in particular.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dustin yelled back.

“The monsters, they’re here. This isn’t El. This is something else.”

“Yeah, you fucking numbskull, just getting that now?” Dustin rolled his eyes mightily as they continued down the hallway, entering the lobby area. It was pouring outside, the drops of rain pattering against the windows, echoing throughout the lobby, sending chills down Jonathan’s spine as he panted, heaving breaths. Jonathan caught a glimpse of Nancy’s neon green shirt from outside, a stark contrast to the night she was surrounded by. She was wielding Steve’s bat, and Jonathan could see panic in her eyes.

“Dustin,” Jonathan turned to Dustin. “I need you to do me a favor, alright? I need you to stay right here. No matter what happens, you don’t go outside. Do you understand?” Jonathan knelt in front of Dustin so they could see eye to eye.

“Jonathan, I always help in fights, I can do this-”

“I know you could, but right now, you have way too much life ahead of you for me to risk that. Okay? So no matter what, I need you to stay right here, you don’t make a sound, you don’t move, no matter what happens to me or Nancy. Do you understand? You wait here til someone comes to get you.”

Dustin nodded, tears forming in his eyes.

“Everything’s gonna be fine.” Jonathan said, guiding Dustin behind the lobby desk, where he could crouch and hide. After, Jonathan took off running, bursting through the glass doors and into the downpour. Nancy turned to him, wide eyed, a cut running from her hairline to her eyebrow, dripping in blood. Steve stood behind her, distanced, his lip curling in a smile.

“Nice of you to join us, Jonny,”

“Jonathan, run.” The urgency in Nancy’s voice scared him, but he stayed put. He took a closer look at his boyfriend, whose neck was crawling with this black liquid traveling up into his face.

“Steve?” Jonathan said timidly. “What’s wrong with your neck?” He rushed over to Steve, ready to patch him up and take care of him, as Jonathan normally did.

Steve only laughed. As Jonathan neared Nancy, she stuck out and arm, refusing to let him go any further.

“The monster.” Nancy said, her voice quivering.

All the pieces began to fit in the puzzle for Jonathan.

The flashing lights, blaring sirens, the liquid.

“Steve.” He breathed, visibly deflating.

“Jo-on.” Steve said in a sing-song voice.

“Don’t.” Nancy said. “He’ll draw you in just to try to beat your ass.” She pointed to the cut on her forehead. “I’d know.”

“Don’t listen to her.” Steve said through gritted teeth. “When has she ever told you the truth?” Steve crept closer. “Tell me, Jonathan, the last time you trusted her.” He tucked the piece of Jonathan’s bang that always fell in his face behind his ear. He felt like Steve, but the words coming out of his mouth weren’t his.

“Please,” Jonathan sighed. “Give me Steve back.” Steve cupped Jonathan’s cheek, smiling. Then, he jerked his arm back, and Jonathan felt a sting on the side of his cheek. He stumbled backwards in surprise, holding his cheek.

“Steve, fucking stop.” Nancy’s words were steel, but not enough to coax whatever had a hold on him out. Steve slammed a fist into Jonathan’s stomach, fully knocking him on his ass. “Steve!” She cried again as he straddled Jonathan, bearing down on him as the rain poured. The rain soaked ground coated Jonathan’s arms in mud. Steve landed punch after punch on Jonathan’s face, busting his lip, bruising his cheek, tearing at the skin on his forehead.

“Too tired to fight, Jonny-boy?” Steve said, hardly breaking a sweat.

“I’m not gonna fight you.” Jonathan said, his voice weak and cracking.

“Why the hell not?” Steve roared, standing up. “Maybe it’s the cowardice finally getting to you, huh?”

“Maybe.” Jonathan groaned. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I love you. Either way, I won’t fight you. I won’t hurt you.” Steve kicked at Jonathan.

“Fucking stop!” Nancy cried out. “Fucking stop it! You’re gonna fucking kill him!”

Steve kicked him again, and again, and again, the blows coming in time with the rain hitting Jonathan’s face. After five more kicks, Jonathan’s head lolled to the side, and his body went limp. Nancy shoved Steve out of the way, realizing Jonathan was on the brink of death. She sent him into the mud, scrambling to regain his balance.

“Jonathan!” She screamed. She used her arm to prop him up, and took his pulse.

Weak, but there.

“…Nancy?” She swiveled around to see Steve holding his head, the black disappearing from his neck. “Jonathan! What the fuck?” He rushed to Jonathan’s other side. “Did I black out? What the fuck? Is he okay? We need to get him to the hospital now.”

“Steve.” Nancy swallowed.

He looked to her, and her eyes swelling with tears, the blood on her forehead becoming eerily apparent to himself.

“No.” He breathed. “Nancy. Please tell me I didn’t do this.”

“Go get Dustin.”

“Nancy-”

“Go get Dustin!” She yelled. “I’ll take him to the car.”

Steve did as he was told, entering the Lab, where no light could be found. He found Dustin crouched under the lobby desk, tears staining his cheeks.

“C’mon.” Dustin rushed into Steve’s arms, and Steve held him for a five count. “We really have to go, Dusty.”

He followed Steve to the car silently, and he took shotgun, while Steve supported Jonathan ins the backseat, crying silently, holding him to his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Nance.” Steve sobbed. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It wasn’t you.” Nancy said, and Steve could hear the tears in her own voice. “You didn’t do that.”

It took them fifteen minutes to reach the hospital from the outskirts of Hawkins, and the rain pounded on the windows the whole ride there, which is when Steve realized he, Nancy and Jonathan were completely soaked and mudstained. Nancy pulled up to the hospital curb, letting Steve get out, and unlocking Dustin’s door so he could help with Jonathan. Steve carried Jonathan into the hospital, bridal-style.

“Someone help him, please,” he sobbed weakly. The receptionist and the nurse standing behind her rushed to their side, lowering Jonathan to the ground, and another receptionist ushered Steve away, to give Jonathan room. “Help him,” he cried at the receptionist guided him to the waiting room.

After what felt like hours, but was just a half hour, Steve figured he’d call Joyce. He slid two quarters into a payphone at the hospital, and dialed the Byers’s number. He prayed somebody, anybody would be there.

On the fifth ring, someone picked up.

“Byers residence, this is Joyce speaking.” She sounded so tired, so physically exhausted. It pained Steve to know he had to tell Joyce her son was dying and that he was the sole cause.

“Joyce, uh, this is Steve. I’m calling from the hospital.”

“Hospital! Steve, sweetie, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s Jonathan. He’s…in pretty bad shape. He took a rough beating.” Steve’s voice cracked, and tears began spilling down his face again. “I’m so sorry, Joyce.” He cried into the phone.

“You hold on. I’ll be there in forty, okay? Do you like chocolate milk or water?”

“Water is fine.”

“I’ll be there in forty minutes. You just stay put, okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

“Okay.” And with that Steve hung up, and took his place in the waiting room. About twenty minutes later, a doctor came to get Steve.

“Hello, Steve is it?” He only nodded, fearing the worst. “My name is Doctor Otto Keebler, and I’m taking care of Jonathan currently. We have him on a morphine drip, and we got stitches in him. Lucky for him, no broken bones, but he does have a sprained wrist. He’s still unconscious, but the morphine should wake him up. Would you like to come see him?”

“Yes! Yes.” Steve said. He followed Doctor Keebler back to Jonathan’s room, where he lay, completely still. His wrist was wrapped in pink tape, and it had a brace over it. His forehead was stitched up, and his lip and other places that weren’t stitched were scabbing over.

“I’m going to go check on another patient.” The doctor said, leaving Steve with Jonathan. He took a seat on Jonathan’s right, so he could hold his uninjured hand. Only a few moments after Doctor Keebler left, Jonathan’s eyes began to flutter open.

“Steve?” he groaned.

“Oh my God, Jon,” Steve took a kneeling position by his side. “I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so sorry, Jon, I promise I never meant to hurt you I just-”

“Shh.” Jonathan silenced Steve. “I know.” Tears spilt out of Steve’s eyes and down his face. Steve didn’t care to wipe them off. Jonathan squeezed Steve’s hand as he sobbed into Jonathan’s sleeve.

“I’m so damn sorry.” He apologized profusely. Jonathan scooted over in the hospital bed and patted the spot next to him, and Steve took the offer graciously, climbing in next to Jonathan, still crying. He held Jonathan, the tears beginning to dry.

“At least I’m in dry, not muddy clothes anymore, right?” Jonathan chuckled to himself, trying to get Steve to crack a smile. “Hey, listen. You’re okay. I’m okay. That wasn’t you, Stevie. You would never hurt me. Never in a million years, I know that. That was a fucking monster. You, Steven Gregory Harrington, are not a monster. You’re a hell of a boyfriend and a damn good babysitter and I’m completely and hopelessly in love with you and no godforsaken inter-dimensional monster is gonna change that. Got it?”

Steve only nodded, burrowing further into the crook of Jonathan’s neck.

Forgiveness

Can you imagine?

�� Forgiveness

Can you imagine?

Bonus: Songs I Listened To While Writing This

Don’t Look Back In Anger - Oasis

I Believe, I Don’t Do Sadness/Blue Wind, Left Behind - Spring Awakening Soundtrack

bad guy - Billie Eilish

Sign of the Times - Harry Styles (happy two years, SOTT!!)

Shrike - Hozier

#stonathan #my writing #prompt fill #ask #stranger things #i wove them #this prompt was so fucking fun to write #the last quote is from hamilton

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weasleyimaginewheezes · 6 years

Text

Fred x reader / Kids are alright

Request: Heyo! I have a fic request thingie... Could you maybe do a fred weasley X reader where he didn't die in the war and they got married and had a bunch of kids... And it's super fluffy... And maybe reader had a really tough day, because of the kiddos, while fred was at work, and he comes home and is super sweet... And reader figures out she's pregnant again and is super upset, and fred is just a loveable dork, and is so sweet about it. Super fluffy and cute. ???? Thank you 😊

A/n: Thank you for requesting and I absolutely loved writing this! I wrote it once but I wasn’t happy with the ending so I re-wrote it and I am so much happier with it. Fred lives! Au which is the best kind of AU 😊 I love domestic fic. Enjoy the long fic x

Word count: 3.7k+

Warnings: Mild swearing

Masterlist | Requests open

With 3 kids it wasn’t hard for your day to be full of trouble but today had seemed worse maybe because Fred had taken a longer shift than usual at the shop or maybe because your two 6-year-old twin girls, Harper and Ellie had made it their mission to drive you insane. Their younger brother, Alex who was only 3 seemed to want to follow in their footsteps.

It had started with a screaming argument between the two girls upstairs which had led to hair-pulling and tears. You broke it up, only for your youngest son to turn defiant during breakfast and him attempting to scream nonsense at you. Then there had been the prank in the garden in which Harper had set up a trip wire at the door with Ellie’s help and needless to say it didn’t end well for you, especially when you were carrying a basketful of laundry out said door. Sometimes you hated their inherited mischievousness. And now all 3 of your children had somehow stolen your wand and were currently running around the house shooting un-aimed sparks at the walls.

“Stop it right now!” Your voice was growing louder but all it seemed to encourage was giggles. You chased after the eldest twin who held the wand tightly. “Harper Ginevra Weasley!” Harper, in her fit of laughter, tripped over her own feet and a loud bang sounded as the spell hit a wall which housed many photo frames. One after the other fell and smashed, glass covering the carpeted floor. All 3 children seemed to stop dead in their mischievous tracks, all with the same guilty look. You did your best to keep calm as you told them all to go and take a time out in their rooms.

You sat on the floor, looking at the broken glass surrounding the hallway. You knew a quick spell could fix it but you started to cry anyway. It’s just been a long day, you told yourself as you used reparo on the glass frames which begun to repair themselves with each swish on your wand. Just as you were finishing cleaning up the remains of glass, the front door opened and a cheery familiar voice lifted your spirits.

You didn’t miss a beat as you ran towards your husband and flung your arms around him. He soon returned the hug after the initial surprise of its force with a calming stroke on your back. You sobbed lightly into his shoulder and he pulled back concerned. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Fred’s hand caressed your cheek and the comforting action just made you cry more.

“I’m just glad your home.” You sobbed as he wiped your tears away with gentle hands. He still looked heavily concerned but before he could say anymore, 3 pairs of feet were running towards him. You hurriedly wiped the rest of your tears away and smiled as all 3 of your children hugged their father, even pulling him to the ground with matching laughter.

“Okay, okay.” Fred panted as he held his hands up in feigned surrender before tickling them all. You laughed and felt a different kind of emotion well up in you – happiness for the family in front of you, your family. And then another voice from the door broke the moment.

“Hey.” George entered, hidden behind 2 large stacked boxes. You helped him in and gave him a hug in greeting before his nieces and his nephew had the chance to smother him with their adorable hugs.

“Uncle George!” You watched as the 3 kids gave their uncle the same treatment as their father, hanging onto his legs and hugging him from all different angles. George loved the attention and started to tickle them wildly. You left to the kitchen with a smile, thinking of the complaints from 3 hungry children.

A while later just as you had everything magically chopped and diced, you felt hands snake around your waist and a gentle kiss to your neck. “Hey love.” You could feel Fred’s smile as he continued kissing you and you sighed happily, turning around to meet his lips with your own.

You both pulled back with smiles and he tucked your hair behind your ear. “So, how was today?” He knew it could be hard, the kids were a handful.

When you had to go to the office for work he would look after the kids and it didn’t usually end well. The last time Fred had ended up with permeant ink on his face, his hair dyed green and he had just generally been exhausted. “I feel so bad for Mum and Dad now.” He’d apologised when he had seen his parents next and they had laughed.

“Oh, you know, just the usual. Harper grabbed my wand and the other 2 followed, they broke a few picture frames and I had to be the bad guy again.” You tried to keep the annoyance from your voice, it wasn’t Fred’s fault you knew that, but it was difficult. At the roll of your eyes, Fred looked guilty and you started to apologise.

“No, I know. I’ve been staying later at the shop and it’s not fair on you or the kids.” Fred looked away and you felt guilty at your own words so you pulled his face back to meet his eyes.

“Freddie, I’m sorry. You’re just trying to make more money and help George. I shouldn’t be such a bitch about it all.” Fred detested to your words but you settled the matter with a kiss before it could lead to any sort of argument. You pulled back as a thought entered your mind. “Where are the kids?”

“Oh, George brought some products for them from the shop as gifts.” Fred smiled happily as you sighed and quirked your eyebrow.

“It better not be puking pastilles because last time Harper found them, Ellie didn’t stop puking for a week.” You remembered the horrible mess with a grimace as Fred shook his head.

“No, just some fake wands and what not.” Fred reassured but you still questioned him with your look. You eventually gave in and went back to preparing dinner before your husband stopped you. “Here, let me do that, you go and relax.” You would’ve protested but when Fred’s lips caught you off guard passionately, you just couldn’t find it in you to argue or to deny how much you wanted to sit down. He laughed as he prepped dinner, he had taken some tricks from his mother growing up and with magic controlling everything it was hard to mess up.

That’s why when Fred burnt the whole dish, you were very surprised. “Fred! How-?!” You stuttered in your words, not even fighting to keep the irritation out of your voice. He shrugged and stepped back, sensing the anger that you felt.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know I got distracted and it just started smoking.” You huffed a loud sigh of annoyance and just told him to leave as you started to prepare another quick meal.

Fred apologised profusely over the dinner table and you accepted it with your own apology for yelling at him. He kissed you on the cheek and you laughed as the children all made sounds and faces of disgust – George who had joined you for dinner joining in jokingly. Harper and Ellie began to have a food fight just as a knock sounded at the door. You told Fred to manage it as you went to see who it was.

“Hermione!” You greeted your best friend with a hug and a smile as she did the same. You had completely forgotten you had asked her to come around.

“I brought that thing you wanted.” Hermione did her best to sound inconspicuous as she handed you the small box. You thanked her with a grateful smile and invited her in. “Oh, I’m sorry Y/n but I have to get back to the ministry but I’ll come back round tomorrow.” You nodded knowing her job kept her busy and hugged her goodbye before you closed the door, placing package she had brought in a safe space and away from prying eyes especially your husband. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him you thought you might be pregnant again, it’s that you were scared to have the conversation and express your own insecurities.

When you got back to the table you sighed heavily, crossed your arms and put your tongue in your cheek as you witnessed what was happening. Instead of stopping the food fight, Fred had joined in with his daughters and georg had also. Needless to say, you weren’t surprised in the least but your family was when you decided to join in, throwing spaghetti at Fred.

*****

The next morning as you woke up to a nauseating feeling in your stomach. You knew what was happening before your brain could process it. You quickly untangled yourself from Fred’s arms and ran to the bathroom.

“Y/n?” Fred’s voice rasped with sleep as he wondered what you were doing, that was before he heard the sound of someone throwing up in the bathroom and his brain caught up. He instantly woke up fully and pulled himself up and out of the warmth of the bed. He crossed the room to knock on the bathroom door. “Love?” More sounds of vomiting echoed through the door which made Fred cringe slightly.

He opened the door slowly and saw you hunched over the toilet. He bent down and held your hair back sweetly, his other hand rubbing small comforting circles on your back. You smiled at him weakly as you finished and slumped back against the cold tiled wall. Fred sat next to you and your head instinctively fell to his shoulder.

“Are you sick?” Fred asked, his hand gently combing through your hair. You shrugged. “Cause, I know El had that stomach bug last week.” You hummed thoughtfully as if remembering but you knew it wasn’t a stomach bug, you had been through pregnancy twice now – you knew the tell-tale signs. You also knew that it was stupid to think you were going through it alone.

With your first pregnancy, you had waited a couple of weeks after you had found out to tell your husband because you were frightened – it was unexpected and you had only been married a couple of months at the time. The weeks you spent being the only one in the know were torturous and Fred had caught on that something was up so you’d told him and he had been so over the moon that he’d cried and smothered you with kisses. You’d since then learnt that it was best to tell him even if you didn’t think it at the time.

“Fred?” You turned your head to look at him, not even realising you had cut him off from speaking about something. He didn’t seem to mind and at the look on your face became heavily concerned and confused.

“What is it, love?” His hand that had been absently playing with locks of your hair, stroked your cheek and you sighed a little at the contact.

“Um, you know how we always talked about our perfect little family – 3 kids and a pet or two?” Fred nodded and then his face lit up and you knew he had jumped to the wrong conclusion since you hadn’t even finished your point yet.

“We’re getting a puppy?” Your husband looked so happy that it almost hurt you to shake your head with a small smile at his cuteness. You could only hope he’d feel as excited about the actual news. Fred looked a little disappointed but it soon faded into expectancy for you to continue.

“Well,“ You twisted your hands together nervously, taking a deep breath before you spoke again. And as much as you wanted to avoid Fred’s eyes, you couldn’t stare away from them. “What would you say if we added on to that list?” You bit your lip. You knew you weren’t making yourself as clear as you might have if you weren’t so damn nervous but you hoped Fred would catch on anyway. Unfortunately, it was 7 am which meant that his brain was still half asleep.

“What are you talking about?”

“Fred, I think I’m pregnant!” Your voice came off a bit more pitched and nervous than you had hoped for but the point had been made now, you couldn’t have made it clearer. You waited for the usual reaction – eyes wide, jaw slack and his breathing heavy as he processed the news but none of that happened. Instead Fred’s eyes seemed to become softer, water welling up behind them. He seemed to be fighting back the urge to grin as brightly as the sun but he failed miserably and his smile was too infectious for you to not return it. His breathing seemed to catch in his throat.

“Really?” It wasn’t too long after you nodded, that you were embraced in a tight hug. You could feel Fred’s happiness radiate off of him, his tears of joy falling onto your shoulder. You should have felt the same but you were still full of hesitation from the whole thing. Your husband must of caught on to your tense feeling because he pulled back with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You knew that your dismissive tone was futile as was trying to avoid those hypnotising brown eyes of Fred’s. He guided your face to turn and meet his gaze with a knowing look. “Look, I don’t even know if I am yet and I just- 4 kids.” Fred’s smile twisted into more of a grimace as he understood what you were saying. “The 3 we have keep on our toes enough. 4 is more than we ever talked about Fred.”

“I know.” Fred nodded in understanding, his hand cupped your jaw tenderly and you felt the emotion for him rush back to you in waves. “But we’ll manage.” You rolled your eyes thinking back to the previous day and how well you had ‘managed’ then. Fred caught on and looked surer. “We will Y/n. I promised you that I would always be here to support you and I’m not going back on that, not ever. We’re gonna be the best parents to this child,” He placed his hand on your flat stomach for emphasis. “Just as we have been to the other 3 amazing children we have. I know they can be a handful but they’re pretty special too.”

“Of course they are, I love them.” You smiled fondly at the memories of mother’s days and Christmases among others. Fred smiled back but yours soon faded as you thought about your other insecurities holding you back from celebrating. “But it’s not just having one more child, it’s being pregnant again. As much as I love it sometimes-“ You trailed off knowing that Fred would understand what you meant.

When you had been pregnant with Alex, there had been complications. Nothing major but enough for you to be put on bed rest for 3 months. It had been rough on both you and Fred – he hated seeing you in pain.

You watched Fred nod with a sad expression as he too remembered the pain of the last pregnancy. “Okay, maybe I can’t say anything that will help that but all I can say is that no matter what, I’m going to be right here the whole way.” He held your hands and brought them both up to his lips, kissing each one in turn. You smiled gratefully before kissing Fred hard, letting him know how much he meant to you in a way words couldn’t express.

“I’ll do the test later and we’ll figure it out from there. But for now let’s go back to bed.” Fred nodded before beaming at your suggestion. He got up and held out a hand to help you up. You quickly gave your teeth a brush before snuggling back in bed, cuddled against Fred’s chest.

It was only an hour later when you were woken up again by two bodies jumping on you energetically.

“Wake up!”

“Mum! Dad! WAKE UP!”

You laughed as you got up before exchanging a wicked smile with Fred and having a silent conversation. The two redheaded twin girls screamed gleefully with loud laughter as they were tickled by their parents. They both soon surrendered and you told them to go and get their brother up with a smile.

You all ate breakfast at the table and everything went smoothly, there was no drama or pranks. You were surprised and you jokingly wondered if Fred had planned it all to prove his point that your children were angels or if the universe was trying to tell you something along the same lines. Either way, the morning made you wonder if having another child wasn’t as bad as you had thought.

Two hours later, Hermione came around with her daughter, Rose. The kids all went off to play in the garden with their new fake wands and other products from the shop, showing them off to their aunt who still seemed to be cautious of such products. Fred came up to you just as you ordered various objects to start cleaning the house. He looked rather hesitant and you furrowed your eyebrows together at him.

“Sooo,” He drawled the word out as he shuffled his feet and you knew what the conversation was about. “have you thought anymore about it all?” Fred looked to you hopefully and you nodded with a small smile that had seemed to be ever building over the course of the morning and the more you thought about it. Fred started to smile back before you ran off to the hallway, he was perplexed until you came back with an all too familiar box in your hands.

The concept of muggle pregnancy tests was still strange to Fred but he knew that they were good especially because Hermione bewitched any she brought to be 100% effective - the reason why you asked Hermione for them. He smiled nervously and you held his hand tightly, leaving him just outside the bathroom whilst you did what you had to do.

After you finished, Fred came in and sat with you on the edge of the bathtub. The stick which would soon tell you both if you were expecting or not rested on the sink as your husband held your hand tightly. The 2 minute wait was filled with nervous but excited talk and peppered kisses. The wait seemed to last forever and be too quick all at the same time.

Soon enough, the time had passed and you shared a quick smile before picking up the stick. Fred tried to read your expression as you looked but it seemed impossible and he was too impatient as you stayed silent so he looked over your shoulder, only to be confused at the little pink plus sign.

“What does that mean?”

You turned to give him your answer but not before planting a firm kiss to his lips. “It means I’m pregnant!” You smiled happily. Seeing the little positive sign had revealed your true feelings about the thought of another child and you couldn’t hold in your excitement. Fred looked a bit weary before your grin seemed to spread uncontrollably across your face and he knew that your hesitation from before had faded. He let his own excitement bubble out as he kissed you with a massive smile, he then picked you up and spun you a little around the room being careful in the small space.

“We’re having another baby!” Fred couldn’t help but jump a little and you almost wanted to scream with the happiness you felt. You knew that there was still a hesitation resting below the surface and that it might be hard or tough but in that moment, with your excitable puppy of a husband by your side it was hard not to feel joy at the prospect of another little redhead running around your feet. You watched with a furrowed brow as he knelt to the floor. You laughed as he pecked kisses across your stomach and spoke gently to the unborn baby. You stroked his messy ginger hair with a fond smile.

Fred got up, smiling widely and pulled you into one last tight embrace before you left. “I love you Y/n and I love our life.”

“I love you too Freddie.” You cooed sweetly at your husband, pulling him into a searing kiss which lasted for what felt like hours. You got lost up in the feel of his lips against yours, the way he expertly trailed his kisses down to your neck. You had to pull away as it all became heated in the small space but not before reaching up to whisper into his ear, “Later.” You nibbled a little at his earlobe and smirked when you felt your husband melt against you. You winked before pulling the door open back to reality.

When you left the bathroom, you and Fred both looked out the window to the garden, smiling as you saw your children happily running around with their cousin. But a thought seemed to simultaneously occur to you both as you exchanged a glance, your smiles now faded into worry. Because now you had to tell your children that they were going to have another sibling and after the catastrophe with telling the twins about Alex 3 years ago, you didn’t expect it to go well.

But to your surprise Harper and Ellie seemed to become excited at the prospect of another sister (even though you said you couldn’t promise it was a girl). Alex became rather pouty and cross but you were sure he didn’t fully understand why, he did however refuse to speak which lasted for 5 minutes before he started to ask about dinner – like father like son. You were happy at the response from your children and for the fact that Fred began to pamper before you even began to show. Not that he didn’t anyway but when you were pregnant, Fred tended to become over-affectionate and you loved it despite the moody part of you that told him otherwise.

Fred started to take less shifts at the shop so he could help you out, if the kids had run you wild before it was nothing compared to how if felt when you were heavily pregnant. The girls always seemed to marvel at your pregnant belly and how there was an actual human there, you laughed as Fred always seemed to do the same thing even if he had already experienced seeing it all twice.

9 months later from that overjoyed moment in your small family bathroom, you gave birth to a healthy baby boy much to the twins’ annoyance and Alex’s newfound happiness towards his sibling – now that he wasn’t the only boy.

And as you sat there in the small hospital room watching sleepily as your children fawned over their new sibling, held tightly in their father’s arms, you couldn’t have been happier.

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