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briarscreek · 2 years

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The Hidden Library

Summary: You find a hidden library at Bruce Wayne’s Estate and an unexpected (but hot) guest surprises you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Note: y’all are so horny for this man and i am too so here ya go. also, alfred is a little ooc since i didn’t want to specify pronouns and give everyone a chance to read themselves in this story. <33 (this is also my first fic so pls let me know your input!)

How exactly did you find yourself in this situation, you had no idea. Well, you had some idea but not enough to comprehend that it was actually happening to you.

Almost a year ago, you had accepted the job of being Bruce Wayne’s Secretary. With the added stress of a very busy CEO and his constant disappearances, it was harder than you expected to help maintain his image of Gotham’s richest celebrity. So one late night at Wayne Tower when Bruce stopped by to pick up some paperwork while in a full tactical bat suit without the cowl caused your boss to reveal his biggest secret.

Bruce Wayne was Batman.

This didn’t necessarily shock you at first, it was more like finding the last and most crucial piece of a 1,000 piece puzzle that had been stuck under your couch for the last 5 months. The sudden excuses, random injuries, and multiple coffee cups a day had finally all made sense.

With the added knowledge of his secret identity, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots between his family and the bat dressed people running around Gotham. After that day, you started to uncover the human side of not only your boss but his kids as well. Dick was the resident goofball, Tim had coffee running through his veins, Barbara and Cass would let you in on their gossip sessions, Duke would teach you about the batcave and Damian constantly walked around like his kitana was glued to his hands. But one person in particular stood out from their unruly crowd. That would be one Jason Todd.

From the moment you met him for the first time, it didn’t take much detective work to realize you would have a crush the size of Metropolis for this man. The problem wasn’t that he was incredibly handsome and charming, it was that he knew it too. Mix a dash of danger, with a splash of a handsome face and a gallon of confidence; and you’d get an incredibly attractive man with extra fries on the side. Nevertheless, you kept it cool while trying to talk to him. Emphasis on trying.

For instance, a nervous habit that you developed while growing up was to subtly avoid and participate in a conversation by making yourself seem occupied with something else in your hands. Whether that be on your phone, writing something down, or even fiddling with the ends of your nails. This happened constantly while you were around Jason. You wanted to seem cool while also not giving away the middle school type crush you had on him.

It was on a random Tuesday evening that a pipe burst in your $300 per month Gotham apartment, which caused heavy water damage to spill into your kitchen and living room. You can’t really complain since the reason rent was so cheap was because of Gotham’s unnaturally high crime rate. It might just be the 45-year-old pipes or Scarecrow messing with the water supply again. Either way, the situation would sort itself out in about a week.

Being the generous philanthropist that he was, Bruce offered you to stay in one of the bedrooms at his mansion. You initially declined at first but the mention of Alfred’s cooking had you packing your bags faster than The Flash.

All this aside, let’s focus on what happened today.

Around 1am, you decided to wander down to the batcave in your pajamas and stick your nose in what ‘mission’ they had that night. Surprisingly, Alfred was the only one sitting at the computer while occasionally pressing a finger to his ear talking to the vigilantes that occupied the massive estate upstairs.

“So what villain is on the schedule for tonight?” you said while standing next to Alfred, announcing your arrival.

“No one so far, just patrolling. I believe they are finishing up as we speak.”

You knew this, since the only times any major villain actually did something was all coincidentally scheduled on the 2nd Thursday of every month. No one really caught on to this until you decided to map out Bruce’s and Batman’s coinciding schedule. You still haven’t told them this part yet, since a day off for them could potentially become the worst night in Gotham for victims of smaller crimes.

“Sounds fun.” You retorted to no one in particular.

Alfred turned his chair to face you, studying your slightly bored and exhausted expression.

“Do you like to read?” He asked out of the blue. You turned away from the computer screen to face him.

“Yes. Why?”

“Well, if you are planning on waiting for them to return, you could do that in library. It will take them at least an hour to take off their suits and discuss the next few villain cases.”

You were a little taken aback by his suggestion. Not offended, just surprised that he somehow knew you liked to read.

“That doesn’t sound too bad. If anyone needs me, let them know I’ll be in the library please.”

Turning to walk away, Alfred couldn’t help but answer back to you.

“Yes, if Master Todd needs you to patch him up, I’ll tell him where you are.”

Pivoting back to see Alfred’s smirk on his face left you with a small blush on yours.

“Alfred! I was talking about everyone! Not just Jason.”

“Oh yes. Whatever you say.”

Knowing you weren’t gonna win this argument, you stomped up the stairs while feeling Alfred’s smugness behind you the entire time.

In a haze of slight anger and embarrassment, you had begun to walk around in Bruce’s home without taking note of your surroundings. Even though you had moved in for a short while, you still had no idea what the layout of the mansion actually was. The only places you knew how to get to were the batcave, your room, the living room, and kitchen. Other than that you were stumped. Sometimes, you would have to call someone on your phone to help guide you but that was a little impossible since you had somehow forgot your phone in your room.

The feeling of a never ending labyrinth came to a halt once you opened a door on the 2nd (or maybe you were on the 3rd?) floor, three doors down from the stairs. Swinging the door open, you were met with floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall bookshelves and a gray bed positioned in a cutout specifically for it.

Huh, you thought. I didn’t know Bruce would stick a day bed in a library, that’s actually a genius move.

After perusing the shelves for a few minutes, you finally settled on a blue covered book and laid down on the bed. You adjusted to a comfortable position on the bed with your head on a pillow and your legs crossed, with one foot hanging in the air.

This particular book you decided to read was one you knew that suddenly became popular on a few websites in the past couple of weeks. It was described as a wild ride from beginning to end and you were mildly intrigued about starting it. You finally began to devour the words on the pages like there was no tomorrow, fully engrossed in the plot to not care about the outside world around you. If you were paying attention, you would of heard the door open slowly.

“Whatcha reading?” A familiar voice asked, startling you from the fantasy world you wrapped yourself in.

Jason stood, leaning against the door frame of the room while you were slowly sitting up on your elbows.

“Oh, hey Jason. I found Bruce’s private library.”

“Private library?”

“Yea, he’s got some surprisingly raunchy stuff in here. I mean, I found Ice-Planet Barbarians; which is in itself hilarious that Bruce has it of all people.”

You held the book that you were referring to in your hand, and continued to read it. More like pretend so that you didn’t have to make direct eye contact with him.

“What part are you on right now?” He lowered his voice while sauntering towards you on the bed.

It made your heart stop and drop to your stomach with the way that he was looking at you. Like he was closing in on a target.

“Uh, well, um.”

You had completely forgotten the entire book. On to a new tactic.

“Wait, what time is it?”

“It’s almost 3am, last I checked” Jason responded.

He started to finally take off arm guards, setting them on the table. He walked around like he knew the layout of the room.

Wait if he knew the layout of the room-

“JASON, IS THIS YOUR ROOM?”

He smiled while slightly wincing at you, chuckling at your reaction.

“Lower your voice will ya? People are sleeping a few doors down.”

Mortification filled you as you quickly launched yourself off the his bed.

“I am so sorry! I just thought it was Bruce’s cheesy romance library. I had no idea! Especially since I still have no idea the layout of this place. I seriously think that this place could give the Labyrinth a run for it’s money-“

With every step you took backward towards the door, Jason took a matching one. Until your back was against the door and he placed his hand on your mouth, stopping your ramble.

“There’s no need to apologize. I liked seeing you on my bed.”

You were now only inches from each other’s faces. Eyes widened, as you realized he not only had a hand on your mouth, but the other was pressed against the door behind you. Effectively caging you in, the tension rose between the two of you. One you had been avoiding from believing was real because of the overwhelming fear of giving yourself your own hope.

He slowly slid his hand down, gliding it along your cheek effectively tracing the skin. He looked concerned, so deep in thought he almost closed the gap between your lips.

“Why do you ignore me?”

“Ignore you? I don’t ignore you.” You said in a breathless whisper.

“Yea, you do. You never fully engage with me when I try to talk to you.”

You contemplated about finally saying it out loud.

“If I tell you, will you promise not to laugh at me?”

“Why would I laugh at you?”

“Jay, I’m being serious.” You stated, while still actively avoiding his intense eye contact.

“Alright fine, I promise.”

You still couldn’t look at him, so you squeezed your eyes shut.

“You make me nervous.”

“I do?” He stated with slight amusement in his tone.

“Yea, you do. God, I am about to sound like the stupidest person in the world right now but I have feelings for you.”

He stayed silent so you peeked your eyes open to gauge his reaction.

He was stunned, like he was hit with some sort of gas from one Gotham’s villains. His face split into a grin as he tried to keep his laughter to himself.

“Hey! You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

Jason finally collected himself, still not letting any distance increase between the two of you.

“No, no. It’s not that. I just think it’s hilarious that the reason you slightly avoid me is the same reason I talk to you everyday.”

…

WHAT???

“Are you being serious?” You said, trying to comprehend what he was saying.

“As serious as I am about kissing you right now.”

Something in you snapped, and a rush of confidence came to you that you didn’t know how to control.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

You finally held Jason’s eye contact, but only for a second before they instinctively closed when Jason brought his lips to yours.

Your hands explored his chest and shoulders while his never left your face. Your mouth opened slightly to invite his tongue in. You couldn’t get enough of him, and him of you either. But all good things must come to an end as you both parted for air.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’d really like to wine and dine you before we go any further.”

You chuckled, “I’d really like that”.

Jason had another thing on his mind as he pulled away from you slightly.

“I know it’s late, or early, but would you read to me from that book?”

“Sure, but only if you actually go to sleep.”

“I’ll agree to that, but only if we get to recreate a few of those scenes from Ice Planet together.”

“JASON!”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #tiktok

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officialmenu · 3 months

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What I'm about to write, I've kept it in for exactly twelve months. I've told a handful of people some bits and pieces, but there are angles to this story that I've always held back because I felt the duty to protect something that - to be honest with you - has done nothing but damage to me in return. I'm about to write about the stages of a grief I have felt too ashamed to declare. Because no one died, really. Yet something did. And my therapist said I should write my grief out. So here we go...

19th of February 2023

A date I will probably take to my grave.

A date that's always in the back of my mind, like a parasite. Yet it gives me hope that I've had other dates like that in my life, which one year after many painful ones I realized I had lived through without remembering. I can't wait for the 19th of February to be just another Tuesday.

For now though, that was the day I lost my best friend.

Like I said, nobody died. But I don't really feel like sugarcoat it to avoid drama. In order to be grief there has to be a death and what died on that day, even though I didn't know yet, was effectively a friendship.

I think I've never really got rid of the pain I felt that night, when I suddenly felt like an intruder, a stranger, a burden in a house that for the longest time had been a second home.

I was playing Hogwarts Legacy at 1am in my best friend's house when he texted to say I was being replaced. Funny how Harry Potter is always there in the most defining moments of my existence...

My best friend, my male best friend, was taking a girl home. Something he had done before, but he had never asked for my permission. Which could only mean this was not supposed to be a one night stand. This girl was coming into his life, into my life, and there was nothing, at the time, that terrified me more.

I can never stop to think about what I felt in the moment, because if the memory gets a hold of me it would suck me back into a vortex of sadness and hopelessness I no longer have the energy to swim back from. All I allow myself to remember is a song, the only song that kept my head above water that entire night.

Sometimes I think I haven't actually ever swimmed back.

Sometimes I'm so afraid to find myself still stuck in that Uber, running away from an event I couldn't control, nothing short of panicking as I choked back the most desperate tears I've ever shed. Sometimes I'm so afraid to find myself abandoning all my weight and strength on my bed sheets again, when I finally got home and burst into tears. I still remember the fear, because in that moment I genuinely thought if something so beautiful could be broken, then I was surely destined for intolerable physical pain. The thought genuinely crossed my mind, that that was just one event of many horrible ones lining up in that very instant to start showing up at my door.

Fear of loneliness, fear of illness, fear of death.

I know it sounds terribly dramatic, but that night, between not knowing who to call to be so vulnerable with and holding my head that felt like cracking open from the tears, I genuinely believed I had been given the most precious friendship ever because it was time for me to die soon.

Okay Manu. Put the Nicholas Sparks books down.

Well, I didn't die. That night, nor any night after.

But I've certainly paused life, afraid as I was that some other piece could fall off the wagon.

My phone buzzed the whole night.

I'm not gonna backtrack that WhatsApp chat because I will not purposely jump into the memory, but of all the messages I received that night, while my heart shattered and my best friend's blew up, I remember three of them:

"I feel infinitely guilty."

I had left him his favourite red velvet cake because he had a stressful shift at work. I don't regret doing it, but I did feel so stupid back then. We had built a whole friendship on leaving each other treats as a sign of support, but I realized in that moment - and would have many times in the following months - that it could, would never beat sex in his book. And I couldn't, wouldn't give him that. All I had was cake. Undying support - which you'd think took priority over everything else, silly you - and cake.

"Manu, say something."

I wanted to, but I couldn't.

Could I?

I have debated this for so long...Would it have made a difference if I had put my loyalty aside to text back "Please don't"?

Spoiler: in twelve months I've been given one too many examples of just how much he wouldn't have cared to stop. And me, still trying to live up to a standard of friendship I believed we had promised each other but has since then revealed itself pretty unilateral, would have later actually told him to "go for it, even if it breaks me. Don't worry about me."

He surely took my word for it and maybe that's why I struggle to let go of my anger sometimes...Because I gave him my blessing. Of course I did it on the basis of him always protecting our friendship, but there are so many parts of this story I misread, blinded by trust and hope. I gave him my blessing and I couldn't now - or ever - let that backfire on him.

"Don't hate me."

Maybe I really should have...maybe not back then, but at some point in the next few months. Everyone in my life believes he deserves it. But of all the emotions I have navigated thanks and because of him, hate was never one of them.

Oh it would be so much easier if I could bring myself to hate him. Like in that scene in Bruce Almighty, when Jennifer Aniston begs God to make her stop loving Jim Carrey. I am proud of the way I've cared about him, it has helped me grow in ways I am so glad for, but oh my god this story could have been so much shorter if someone had listened to that prayer for me (because I have spoken it). And to be quite frank, all that growth has just made me more aware of how unfair this whole situation is and I would have probably enjoyed oblivion more, once or twice.

When I told the story of that night, everybody (except one person) immediately assumed I was in love with him. And everybody probably meant well, but in reality what I heard was "platonic love shouldn't hurt this much", or "if you're not in love with him, then whatever you're feeling isn't normal."

It wasn't valid.

It is taking me 12 months and some to get control of myself again because unless I admit to be in love with him I am not allowed to feel this loss.

Everybody also always said "if you're in love with him that's completely okay".

Was it though? Do you have any idea how many times people had assumed we were a couple? How many people would have sworn on their life that we were meant for each other? How many times we had denied it, joked about it, dismissed it? I have actually wondered if he dismissed it because I did or if I've dismissed it because I always assume people are not interested, but I couldn't - physically couldn't - entertain the thought that I had been sitting right in the middle of everything I had always wished for - that Chandler&Monica trope - without noticing and that I had let someone else sweep it from under my nose. To this day I cannot linger on the possibility of that "what if". "What ifs" aren't a thing. There is only the painstaking truth that I had felt at my highest and wholest as his best friend and yet my highest and wholest hadn't been enough for him.

The truth that he had chosen someone so excruciatingly similar to me, but younger, more spontaneous, more physical. The new and improved me. The upgrade. The me without all the issues, the me you didn't have to work for, to work with.

The truth that whatever kind of love we had shared - and I promise it didn't really matter to label it - was beautifully true, envy material and still not enough.

Our friendship had to go.

For him, to let him be free of responsibility and let him steer clear of uncomfortable conversations, his kryptonite.

For her, to ease her insecurities, even though she had willingly, masterfully designed to enter a relationship with a guy whose best friend was a girl.

For everyone else, because - again - if it's only friendship you feel, you're not allowed to grieve. You're supposed to be okay with being tossed aside.

It was a premeditated, collective crime.

I just hadn't found the body yet, so I would keep on believing to find it alive, this friendship, every next morning when I opened my eyes.

For an entire, awful year.

DENIAL

We were supposed to meet the next day. We had begged and bribed our manager to give us the night shift together and we were planning to watch Stranger Things and play Hogwarts Legacy throughout the day before work.

Another me would have disappeared, bailed, left him to wonder why.

Another me would have run and - once again - maybe I should have.

Yet there had always been something about him that made me want to be better, made me want to stop guilt tripping, made me want to communicate in a quieter way, made me want to trust. I don't think I've always kept up with that will, as rooted habits are hard to eradicate, however the instinct was always there and would always eventually bring me back around.

I remember seeing the open sofa bed in the living room as I walked in, I remember the urge to run away, disappear, all the way there and then from his very doorstep. That sofa bed foreshadowed a struggle I still carry with me: that even when I don't see it, the thing, the issue, this death is somewhere around me. As alive as ever. She wasn't there, nobody informed me as to who had occupied that bed the night before, but there wasn't really any need to guess, right?

His flatmate was home, so we put Stranger Things on and I tried to focus on one of my favourite things ever.

It was season 4, the season of Will telling Mike he's afraid to lose him without actually saying it; the season of Eleven keeping the door open three inches, hoping for Hopper to come back against all odds; the season of Lucas being broken up with Max and yet still knowing something's wrong with her; the season of Steve and Robin being the most powerful duo and of Steve taking care of Nancy when Jonathan isn't there.

The season of "Mike, you're the heart."

I know now, after a whole year of therapy, that I was the heart. But back then, on that foggy damp morning in West Ealing, in my best friend's living room that so familiarly smelled like laundry and weed, I was sure he was the heart and I couldn't breathe at the idea of losing it.

But he was just a friend and I wasn't allowed to think it.

His flatmate walked out about fifteen minutes into the episode and he immediately paused and "We should talk."

"I don't know what to say."

If you know me, you know that's weird.

I was tired, my head was still splitting open and I still desperately wanted time to freeze so that I didn't have to face the consequences of that day.

I thought of all the times we had discussed him getting into a relationship and me having to step away because "It is very unlikely that a girl would accept her boyfriend to have a female friend".

I thought about all the times he had said "You will be in the relationship agreement. I will not let that happen."

All the times he promised "If someone asks me to choose, the choice is made by them because I shouldn't have to choose."

And I thought about our song, by a band she loves and I now despise:

"...and I just keep on thinking how you made me feel better

and all the crazy little things that we did together.

In the end....

in the end it doesn't matter if

tonight is gonna be the loneliest.

You'll be the saddest part of me."

A song, you guessed it, about grief.

A grief I wasn't allowed to acknowledge.

"All I know is I didn't sleep," I mastered the courage to whisper. Pleading.

Please stop this, you're the only one who can.

Don't make me go through this.

"Because of me?" he asked.

I smiled because in that moment I could still feel our connection would step and stand over everything else.

"Yes."

He took a cushion, slammed it over his entire face and sighed a sorry "No, Manu!"

Even to him, I was not allowed to feel this.

We spoke for about twenty minutes and again, I remember three things with searing clarity:

1) "We complete each other because you overthink and I don't think at all."

Our friendship died from both of us repeatedly proving this statement right.

2) Me almost saying I was in love with him, just to be entitled to my feelings. Thank god I didn't.

3) How right had I been in not disappearing, in showing up, in allowing him to prove to me I was always going to be important. A lie in the making which enabled my denial. Because no matter how much I try to excuse him, if he had really cared for me enough, something in my pain should have pushed him to make different choices. Not necessarily end things with her...not choosing a side, not cutting me off would have been a good enough start for me.

You know, I'm low maintenance like that.

We had many conversations like that one, conversations where I tried to let him understand I was falling apart not because he had a girlfriend, but because he had stripped me of my role in his life, conversations where I thought he was saying "I am not leaving you", conversations that masked a truth so bitter to swallow: yes we had a connection, but to him I was just filling a gap while he waited for more, for better. Now better had arrived and nobody likes living with the knowledge you're breaking someone's heart, so he kept that connection alive with a lot of unforgettable perfect words and I - not allowed to feel the grief and not ready to let go - believed every single one of them.

"She's too young, this isn't going anywhere."

"That's a red flag."

"If you wanna be with me you have to accept Manu."

"You're my favourite person ever."

"I am a constant."

"Why do you think I climbed that mountain to take a picture? I don't give a shit, but you do and I wanted to do it for you."

Time would lead me to believe I really tried.

I didn't run.

From the start.

Before he began cutting me out, when the only problem was my fear of abandonment, I went to her and asked her to please not force me out, I asked her to allow me to tell him I loved him like I had always done when he was single and I asked her to allow me to spend time with him, I assured her I had no intention of being cause of jealousy and I asked her if she maybe would be interested in being friends.

I asked her permission.

Me, the one who was there first.

That qualifies as trying, right?

Her answer has been resonating in my brain almost every day for twelve months: "Manu, you know I love you, right? I know about your relationship, I would never come between you two."

Well, if she loves him like she loved me, that's some romance you have there.

Her answer and the lies it concealed even back then, on day 2, is the number one reason why I will never believe she's the right one for him. And the number one reason I have been so angry for such an excruciating, annoyingly long time.

Because even though she actively, cunningly broke that promise and took steps to manipulate his weaknesses and pushed me out of his life, at the end of the day he let her.

So I got angry at her for openly disrespecting the most precious thing I had going on and I got angry at him for looking the other way.

I was only ready to focus on one of the two, though.

At the time.

ANGER

This next part I can't really tell it in chronological order, because even though the stage is behind me, the feeling is always there. Still.

Now, I know I sound like a victim and I know somewhere out there there must be a portion of people boohoo-ing me and very rudely encouraging me to "get over it". These are probably the same people who have read and yet skipped over the many moments when I pointed out how I was made feel not allowed to feel my grief. The same people who probably lack both the reading and understanding skills as well as the emotional empathy and depth to grasp the meaning of my entire story. People I passionately do not give two shits about.

Yet, I know I sound like a victim, but I believe there's some objectivity to one truth: some things have been done to me that I never got an apology for and it is so inexplicably hard to get over a supposedly unjustified anger. Even more so, when that anger goes completely unacknowledged.

Fast forward six months.

She had kicked off a competition between us that I wanted absolutely no part in. I just wanted him to be clear to both of us what role we played in his life, but the vibe between me and her - particularly when we hung out without him - had started to feel off, so I put some distance between us.

You don't have to be best friends with your best friend's partner, as long as you stay civil.

It's July. His birthday arrives.

I don't get invited until 6pm on the day, when I text him to know if there was a plan and she texts me back to say "We're heading home now, I'll let you know at around 8pm where we will be but don't ask him anything else."

Even ignoring the fact I absolutely was not going to sit around waiting to be summoned, I showed up at the "party" to find out his other friends had known for - compared to the notice I had been given - ages.

Have you ever found yourself in a room with the stinking feeling you've been a topic of conversation many times before and now everyone is watching you to gather data to discuss when you go?

I drowned my paranoia, second guessed my instincts, hugged him when he unwrapped my gift and left after a single drink.

He thought I was leaving because I didn't like pubs or hanging out with drunk people. He always thinks I don't do things because I don't like hanging out with drunk people, but even though I haven't had a sip of alcohol for basically my entire life, I do live in England. I've learned to manage. That is never the reason why I don't go places.

I debated for a few days whether I should ask him about that night.

Had I done something? Had he said something? But how do you approach that conversation? How do you ask "hey is your girlfriend trying to break us up or something?" without sounding unrightfully jealous?

Well, there isn't a way. Not when you're in a mixed gender friendship, there isn't.

Or if there is, I didn't find it.

Because when I - as carefully as ever, selecting words with the patience, attention and slight concern of a bomb disposal engineer - gave him evidence, he kindly gaslighted me:

"Don't you think it's all in your head?"

From there, we went through a spot of time - about a month or so - when we couldn't stop fighting and while I insisted on being more patient with him than I had ever been with anyone who had pissed me off in my life, he let himself go to words nobody - especially me - would ever believe he's capable of...Including the words that - he knew - have stabbed and murdered all my relationships and my self-esteem along with them:

"To you friendship is a relationship, but I don't wanna work that hard on it."

I never said he wasn't honest.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm juggling two relationships."

Bro, I feel like your mistress and we'd barely hold hands if our lives depended on it.

"It's too much. You're too much."

Hit and sunk.

That particular time my eyes instantly filled with tears and I had to go hide because we were actually at work.

I would later tell all my friends, the good ones, that "if there was one person in my life I was certain I'd never hear those words from, it was him."

My therapist will tell you I have never really got over that. No matter how much money I've paid her since then.

And I mean, inside I've never got over it, but I didn't leave.

Even then.

Even as he wielded Narsil and chopped off the Ring of Power from my finger, even as he Avada Kedavra-d my soul with those words, as the spell finally faded and he reduced himself to be just like everyone else, I found another chance in me to give him.

So a couple of weeks later, as the arguments continued, deepened by a wound he wasn't even aware he had inflicted, he exasperatedly asked:

"We used to never argue, I don't understand what's changed."

I looked at him with disbelieving frustration. "Yeah okay, I know what's changed," he admitted.

Rewind now.

What changed?

He did, mostly.

Or maybe not. Maybe that's exactly who he had always been.

The inconfutable truth, nevertheless, is that he pulled away.

He went from being the person answering the phone when my cat died, the person who lied in bed talking about my fears with me until 4am, the person who came up with a silly game ("Who would win...?") to distract me from anxiety whether i was on an airplane or just overwhelmed, the person who messaged me first whenever anything happened that could affect us - like getting a girlfriend, for example - to the person I couldn't reach for four days straight.

Oh man, those four days...

To this day I don't believe he fully understands the level of panic he left me in that week, when I couldn't figure out if his phone had just got stolen or if he had passed out in a ditch out of reach of humanity.

He doesn't know, he will never know, how I lost hours of sleep, worrying sick about him because I was the one who always knew what was going with him and if I didn't know then the only possible explanation was that something horrific had happened to him.

He kinda knows, but surely does not comprehend, how some people have taken those four days as a chance to instil and reinforce in me the provable fact he didn't care about me. A fact I would slowly grow to believe myself, but some people really jumped at the chance, right from the gate.

He doesn't know I cried for hours on the phone with my mom, one of those four nights, at 2am, when it got too dark within and around me to deal with this all on my own. He has no idea of the terror I dropped on my mom's heart when she picked up and all she could hear was my whimpering, because I could not utter a single word, draw a single breath. He doesn't know she'd later confess me she was deeply disappointed in him, although in the moment she had tried to convince me this was all the makings of envious people because "I don't even understand you when you're talking to him," - my mom can't speak English - "but anyone can tell your bond is special and that makes people want to destroy it. Don't let them."

You understand now, from that birthday anecdote, I have held on to that statement, maybe a little too tight. I have progressively consumed myself to defend this friendship, way past checkpoints that should have really convinced me - and with previous relationships would have actually convinced me - to drop it all.

Emotionally, I have felt like Tony Stark after his snap: the only way to win is for him to sacrifice himself. It doesn't matter if it should be Steve because he doesn't have a family, or Hulk because he could physically take it. Tony's the one with enough to lose to actually want to give his all. Leave no cards unturned. Even if it means you won't be there for the celebratory parade.

This is why I'm angry.

Because too many times a voice in my head has whispered to me that is the only plausible ending up ahead. No matter how right I've grown beside him, how much more and more fairly I have supported and loved him, how much better we make each other, how lucky we've got to stumble upon the same timeline, I can't shake off the feeling that the only acceptable epilogue will not include me.

He did pick up the phone after four days.

"I am indeed alive," he said.

Her arm had gone through some glass, she had to go to the hospital and the seriousness of it all had caused him to panic. So - the emotionally intelligent human being he is - up he went, to his parents' house, his hometown, disappearing from the face of the earth, pushing every single emotion down as if they didn't exist if nobody knew about them.

For four days.

With her.

It hadn't even been a month since the 19th of February and I had already been bumped from his speed dial.

But I couldn't be angry, right? He has a girlfriend now, of course you won't know stuff about him anymore. I've never asked my other friends in committed relationships, but I'm pretty sure I'd tell my best friend if I basically had a breakdown and felt the urge to run and go.

Even if I had my boyfriend with me.

Unless you're the cause of my breakdown, I'd tell anyone who cares about me. Sure, not in the moment, but not four days of total absence later either.

Had I been the cause, then?

Or was I just, simply, not important enough?

Don't know what makes me feel worse.

I had written him a letter after the 19th of February, because my brain was such a mess that I could only sort it out in writing. It took him over a month to read it. So long that he actually "lost it" at some point. And that had just built the belief in my head that he was either too scared to find out what I had said in my letter, or that he didn't care enough to help us. And in the end, when he resurfaced from those four days of breakdown, he told me he had melted because he had lost my letter, didn't know how to tell me, got too scared and ran away. And as honored and safe as I felt in hearing him say "I'm not scared of you, I'm scared of losing you," I am having a really hard time believing he wasn't just sucking up to me in that moment.

I believed him then, though. Because back then she was just a fling and it made total sense that I'd cause him such trouble.

So had I - my feelings or my letter - been the cause?

Or was I just, simply, again, not important enough? And stupid enough to believe his excuse?

Now now, Manu. Snap out of it. You know better than to put your ego over someone's mental health.

I do know better than that.

I've known so much better than that, that I've restrained my ego to claim its rightful spot over anything that had to do with him.

Ever since.

Which is probably also why I'm angry.

The problem with wanting to keep to yourself in front of a person who has instantly and always been able to read the best concealed parts of yourself though, is that he immediately knew something was cooking behind my eyes. So I saw no point in lying:

"I am 35 and the person who knows you better than anyone, with some personal experience about breakdowns and mental health. She's a child who's known you for less than a month. I would have loved to be there for you, but you chose her. And that's okay," - is it? - "you do you...but it did hurt like a bitch."

Remember when I said earlier that I have been given and I have ignored one too many signs of being replaced? That was the first one.

I should have really left it at that.

Just a handful of days into this whole mess.

I should have packed my self-worth and walked away.

But he was still saying he saw no future in that relationship and he was still saying he was sorry every time he hurt me, as if the revelation of my pain constantly surprised him and everyone was still saying we were special and I was still tired of losing people.

Deadly combo.

I stayed.

The arguments started because I took his word for it when he said she was a fling, so of course I granted myself permission to at least feel upset when a fling took priority over my established loyalty.

But the weeks began to pile up, the season was changing and the fling was still there.

And even before his birthday and the competitive vibe that would come later, I'm a woman. An overthinker, for sure, but a female one. The one who will panic either way, but can always differentiate between the passing overthinking and the one you should really worry about because it will solidify at one point. (In case you've missed the memo among all my rumbling, the fling has completed a full trip around the sun just a few hours ago. So you can guess I could feel it solidifying.)

At the time, I told my therapist I felt like I was maybe subconsciously creating arguments where there weren't any, just to provoke a reaction. Because of all the things I'm angry for, the main one, the one that is blocking the healing process, is absolutely the way every emotion bounces off of him. It doesn't matter how broken, how distant we get, nothing gets through to him.

Or at least nothing I am sending off in his direction.

And I know, I think I know, it's actually because he's too terrified to feel anything, but the result he produces by never trying harder for anyone is simply to make me feel like he doesn't care.

About me.

Arguing wears you out eventually, though.

It takes skills to argue.

Skills I am proud of possessing; I hang my arguing skills on display around my house, like the Memorabilia collection of the place where we work.

He even refuses to take those skills out of the basement.

And while it may look cute to people please, anyone with a basic grasp on their mental health will agree you need to open that box, the arguing box, and polish the content once in a while.

Arguing is a needed skill, crucial to your health if done right.

Go watch Inside Out if you don't get it.

Still, dusting off those skills daily is tiring, especially when you're doing it on your own while everyone else is off enjoying the nice weather.

So we planned a day to talk. The last time I was ever allowed in his house (ooooh the plot thickens).

We - I - spoke for an entire afternoon, biting back tears, pulling the leash on my anger to make sure it wouldn't scare him off...Talking to him about feelings often feels like dealing with a scared cat: you wanna help, you wanna reach out and let him feel you mean well, but you extend your hand too quickly and he'll run hide behind the washing machine.

They don't know the difference.

You need to measure your energy very carefully.

But I was always explosive.

Throughout all this mess, the one trait of me I have refused to feel bad about is the way I feel everything to the max.

Including anger.

"Whether she hates or loves you, you'd have to be really stupid not to know," a friend of mine once said.

I was always explosive, but I'd do anything to make sure he knows "I may hate you more, but I will never love you less."

Hell, isn't that what the point of it all is supposed to be anyway?

I don't remember exactly how we ended up there, as it slythered in between us with no warning...It must have been something we said between "I'm not gonna marry this one, but I'm not rushing to end things with her either" and "I did say you should do what makes you happy even if it breaks me, but I guess the underlying assumption was that it wouldn't make you happy in the first place, if it broke me."

How bold of me to assume I mattered.

All I know is we - I - decided to stop being friends.

It sounds just as stupid as it is.

You don't just stop being friends. You don't just stop feeling. Anything.

In friendship, much like in love or pain, there's a transition. A series of events that either slowly intensify or erase the core emotion.

Hurt someone once, they'll forgive you.

Twice, they'll make a face and hold on.

Three times, they'll start wondering why they stay.

Ten, they eventually see the way out you were showing them.

I would love to tell you that was my tenth time, but it wasn't.

It was barely the second.

We went through the night without saying a single word to each other, not because I didn't have anything to say, but because I needed him to speak first for once.

He didn't, of course.

And I remained explosive in my stubborness. In my anger. And alas, in my love and loyalty.

I sat there with him, side by side, the sleeves of our sweatshirts touching and as far away as we have probably ever been, watching Across the Spiderverse as our swan song.

He loves Spiderman so much, he would climb shelves and piles of boxes at work just to be able to say "I'm Spiderman!"

And if he was Spiderman - Peter or Miles - then I was Gwen Stacy:

"You and I...we're the same. In the important ways..."

"In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman...and in every other universe...it doesn't end well."

I always turn to my favourite pieces of art to guide me through life and the timing of that movie, that night, left a bump that feels a lot like lack of bravery.

I heard her.

She was making me aware I'd have to gather strength from sources I had never explored in my life to be able to free both of us from this bond I wasn't destined for.

Because Gwen is not MJ.

Gwen is the wound in Spiderman's life, the wound MJ comes in to heal.

Gwen is the one only die hard fans - or Emma Stone's fans - remember. She's the one Spiderman jumps into the void to save because she matters that much to him in the moment, but when he can't save her, he eventually moves on. And when MJ comes in, everyone stops mentioning her.

Gwen Stacy is the one with the whole of the multiverse against her.

I didn't stand a chance.

I wasn't allowed to.

I wasn't expected to.

I wasn't meant to.

I wept in silence in the darkness, relieved and terrified that it would all be over as soon as credits rolled.

He didn't know. Or if he did, he didn't say.

I would love to tell you our connection, our chemistry, tickled his spidey sense and made him notice, but neither of us dared tapping into that well that night.

I wept, he watched the movie.

For the first time in two years neither of us knew what the other was thinking or feeling.

And then Gwen came back to voice the one simple reason why I do everything I do, why I put myself through therapy even: "I can't lose one more friend."

It will sound pathetic, but it will also sound a lot like me...that with damp cheeks and a heavy heart that had almost made it out, I let her save our friendship that night.

BARGAINING

I am not entirely sure I'm proud of staying. Sometimes I tell myself I'm a prize idiot. Even writing all of this, reading all of this makes me want to slap myself as hard as I can. But you know, another thing everyone will tell you about me (a thing he did say about me barely a week ago) is that I'm not the one who leaves, I'm the one who stays.

Often way past the due deadline.

Straight into stupidity.

And yet, I don't know that I'd change that about myself. Because when I eventually go, I can do it with a lighter heart, aware that I have fixed all that I could, including myself, but if the other part wasn't willing to do the same, then there was only so much I could do.

No matter the reasons, the point is I stayed.

The arguments became more rare, not so much from an increased effort but more from a determination to drown them.

The time together simply stopped to be a thing, except for work.

After two years of leaving his house at 4am three times a week, it is now silently agreed that I shall never step into it again.

If we hang out outside of work is because of someone else's plan, like a birthday party or a staff night out.

We had a holiday planned in November, that he told me "I don't wanna go on, but I also don't want not to go on." Code for "my girlfriend will kill me if I go away with you, but I lack the guts to both tell you the truth and make her feel secure in this relationship." Although of course, she now basically lives with him, attends every gig and family gathering and doesn't even walk ten minutes alone from the tube station to his door, while I am lucky if I get two matching shifts a week with him.

People keep telling me - as if I'm too stupid to know - that it's normal to spend less time with your friends when they or you enter a romantic relationship. But with all due respect, if you suddenly go from 100 to nothing with your best friends just because you have someone new in your life, you're either a teenager, a sex addict or (with) a toxic person.

And if you make your friends feel bad for daring to claim a spot in your life, a spot you should be giving without being asked, then you're just a prick.

But back to my story...

So Gwen Stacy convinced me to try once more.

And because I wanted to believe - I still do believe - this friendship was too special, I listened.

"I don't want us to stop being friends," I exhaled after the movie ended.

"I don't want that either! I'm so glad you said that!"

As mad as I've been with him, I do think there's some truth to that.

Even though that's his name on my phone, he is not a total dickhead.

Hopefully.

"Can you try a little bit harder though?" I whined, still somewhat heartbroken.

"I promise I will! If anything, tonight has shown me that I am getting a little too close to lose you and maybe that's the kick in the butt I need to step up."

Many conversations would follow, where he'd point out he was trying and I'd have to highlight how he wasn't. Or better, he was...but just long enough to keep me happy enough. Then he'd slip, I'd get mad and he'd make me feel awful for holding him accountable, as if the fact he was trying should excuse him until his dying day and I'd just have to be okay with it. And I'm sure I've made him feel awful in a bunch of other instants as well, but I'm pretty sure everyone could testify I was always triggered first, I was reacting. He just acted like that. Spontaneously. Consciously.

On top of that, throughout all of this, I struggled to bite my tongue every time I wanted to show him her part in this game, but I wouldn't dare doing it, out of fear of being gaslighted again. My defense from her was to remove myself from any situation that would have us in the same room, mostly to avoid her getting the chance to be perfectly fake nice to me in front of him, once again out of fear of him telling me it was all in my head.

A friend once asked "Aren't you letting her win, then?"

Yes. I was.

I was determined not to engage in this competition and I couldn't have it on my heart to wonder if he was spending time with me because I wanted to or because he wanted to. I wasn't going to force this, not to play hard to get, but simply because - despite my self-worth being dangerously in shambles - I still knew to save my thinning energy for people who craved it, not settled for it.

Let her win.

I was doomed from the start, anyway.

Lastly, as the grown up in this unintended triangle, I only cared about our friendship and therefore focused on him alone. As our security manager told me once, "don't make her relevant." And I hated it, because I would hate for my best friend to hate or ignore my boyfriend, but then again I know I would never not acknowledge that if they ended up competing it would be at least 80% my fault.

I had chosen to keep him in my life despite not being allowed in his.

I had to figure out a way to make it work.

And although it worked, I think in retrospect I've made it work by shrinking and denying my needs.

I stopped writing him cards because I didn't wanna feel the stupidity of trusting him to read it first thing in the morning.

I began walking away from him whenever he pulled out his phone, because I didn't wanna know just how many times he instantly texted everyone back, compared to how many hours I was left on read.

I unfollowed him and his band on social media, because I didn't wanna see how unbothered he seemed while I still found it hard to fall asleep at night. And I snapped at all those people who were rightly unaware of my chaos, but who still thought he was my best friend, assumed I knew everything that was going on with him and used his relationship as an ice-breaker in conversations.

I had to learn to practice to look away from our holiday calendar at work, because I didn't wanna know in advance when he was going away. Remember, our friendship only existed at work and if we weren't at work I didn't exist.

I looked away from everything that made me feel unease and instead highlighted the scraps he tossed me.

When he ordered my food before my break at work.

When he surprisingly messaged me back within twelve hours.

When he came to ask if I was okay, when I went hiding in the kids section of the shop on particularly heavy days.

When he took the tube home with me and occasionally, spontaneously walked me to my door.

When he said kind words to me, that revealed shadows of how well he had known me.

When he triggered one of my panic attacks, but called all my best friends to find someone who could help.

"You're enough. I just need you to shut up," I told him, my face drenched with tears and buried in my trembling hands, before he phoned the only other person I would have wanted with me through that...through the entire year, actually.

When he left work early on the same day to take me home and stayed with me to make sure I was okay. And he told me about the last time he had cried. And he told me he stayed with her because she "had proven herself to him". Even though it made me feel like I had given him my best too and yet that hadn't stopped him from tossing me aside.

When we shouted at each other one late night, but went to a leaving party the next day and we apologized to each other when we were left alone, before going down a slide like the forever children we both are.

When we walked home alone on the same night and he asked if I wanted to talk.

And I asked him if he had ever actually loved me.

And he told me that he could have never faked it that well for that long.

And he told me that if he didn't care he wouldn't spend so much time arguing and making up, because "you know I hate confrontations and you know they drain me."

And I asked him if I could somehow lower my expectations, even though I still held a grudge against her because I asked her not to ruin this and she did precisely that, could we - me and him - be able to coexist somehow?

And he replied that we could, only if that was enough for me, because he knew I expected more from people than he was clearly incapable of giving.

And I told him I had been afraid the whole day that this was the End, an end Gwen Stacy couldn't have saved us from.

And I told him I wasn't at the point yet, where I wanted nothing to do with him.

And he looked me in the eyes - 2am across the street from his door - a loving spark in his look (which I don't know how to believe anything less than genuine) and asked me to give him a hug.

And he wrapped his right arm around my neck while I held on to his chest as tightly as I held on to our bond, but - I don't know how I remember this detail - for the first and only time he also lifted his left arm and placed his hand on my shoulder.

Maybe just because.

Maybe as a way of silently saying he cared.

He was still afraid of losing me.

He hated this situation as much as me.

He was sorry for not being able to make it better.

I somehow made it work. Not nearly as perfectly as I wished, since I noticed I was starting to get anxious just being around him, simply for fear of hearing details of his life I had to force myself to stay away from. And on some days it's still just as horrible as that first day in February, when I am particularly vulnerable and can't silence the voice in my head that still claims this whole thing started and will eventually end because I am too much and not enough at the same time.

But i've made it work.

And whenever those horrible days hit, I travel back to two specific events in recent times: Lacock and the Disney Exhibition.

Lacock is a village in the Cotswolds, near Oxford, famous as one of the most iconic Harry Potter filming locations.

We went there on a day trip, the day after my birthday.

I had asked him to accompany me because we had this tradition to visit filming locations and take photos of them while holding a picture of the movie frame, a tradition that had taken us to Italy and Scotland before. Sure, I could have done it alone, but it turns out I suck at framing that kind of photos and he enjoyed teasing me and showing off that talent of his.

Also, being nerds was our love language. I couldn't have done that with anyone else.

I remember the anxiety, a constant companion since February, while we had breakfast in Ealing and then boarded the train. He had paid for my coffee and studied the frames I had printed, saying things like "This will be tricky, but we'll make it happen."

Always the optimist.

Yet, he wasn't as lively and chirpy as usual and even though I repeated myself he just wasn't a morning person and would normally take him a couple of hours to fully wake up, I stayed terrified the whole time, that he didn't actually want to - or could - go on this trip but he just didn't know how to tell me.

At the time he was obsessed with a phone game, similar to Candy Crush but not exactly that. I remember gently letting him know it was okay for him to play on the train, he didn't have to entertain me...And even that made me feel apprehensive, because how could he not know I wanted him to be absolutely free to be himself around me? How could he not know I also wanted things to be easier?

He had grown to believe I wanted all of his time, when all I had ever wanted was not to be forgotten, even if I wasn't physically there.

The anxiety stayed with me the whole day, but I didn't voice it.

"He's here. We're here. Stop worrying. What more could he do?"

But to be honest with you, looking back now, I don't remember any of that. Not if I don't force myself to remember.

What I remember, the first feeling that surrounds me from the inside if I linger on the memory of that day, is a complicity, a gentleness, a care I hadn't felt since February and I still have to replicate since then.

The same complicity that - because I have seen it and felt it - single-handedly push me to stay against everyone's better judgment.

During the day I stopped to pet a cat in front of the Potters' house. He stayed a few steps back.

I kneeled down on the gravel, extended one finger to let the cat familiarize with my scent and then stroked his back for a good couple of minutes. I let my hair fall to cover my face and I breathed back the tears that were always ready to flow. And I wondered if he could still, if he could ever again, feel the insides of my heart from across a room.

I wondered if - should he, my best friend, never come back to me - I would ever find that same connection with anyone again.

I grieved. For a few seconds, away from his eyes. I grieved the perfect companion he had been and the blissful woman I used to be by his side. I grieved all the emotions nobody thought I should grieve. And maybe that is precisely why that cat had stopped and waited for me to approach him...If you know cats, you'll know what I mean.

And then I stood up and walked back to him, smiling because "cats".

Hours later I discovered he had taken a picture of me while I was petting that cat.

I love that picture.

Everything I am is in that picture: I am wearing one of my favourite sweatshirts, I love the shape of my body even though it's not what social standards dictate as beautiful, there's a cat there which isn't even hinting at moving away and there's a Harry Potter location in the background. And my once best friend, possibly the most significant and defining person I will ever cross paths with, took the photo without me asking.

I've wondered why he decided to take it, but all the answers I've been giving myself I've dismissed them as wishful thinking. I can't ever ponder the possibility that our connection still stretches between us without ever breaking, I can't entertain the hope we are each other's red thread.

I settled on the idea he just had his phone in his hand and just so happened to capture the turning point instant of my year of grief.

I had to make this downsized friendship work and in order to succeed I had to stop assuming he still held a special spot for me in his life.

On the way back to the station his mood seemed to be getting worse, not angry, just gloomier and after a couple of times of me asking if everything was okay he admitted he felt sick. He's such a delicate lad, getting a cold from not sleeping enough and getting cramps and nausea when it gets a little windy.

My motherly instinct kicked in and with a tenderness literally no one in my circle has ever heard from me, I offered to wait for the next train and get a hot drink to calm his stomach. I knew he was feeling really sick when he agreed to my plan without pretending "it's fiiiine, it's gonna be okay."

I let him order our teas because I don't understand english tea and we sipped it while sitting in front of the station cafe's window overlooking the parking lot. I knew he felt awful, because I know he likes the comfort of his home especially when he's feeling a little bit unease (four days in his hometown and no contact with the world because he was feeling too many things at once, remember?), but I was there with him and I would have done everything in my power to make it all better.

I would have absorbed his pain with my bare hands.

Well, I couldn't do that, but I could be absolutely incapable of drinking tea from a take away cup and even though that wasn't on purpose, it made us both laugh.

Eventually we boarded the train, he slowly felt better, we even had a few minutes of meaningful conversation about how he missed a friend of his who had cut him off with no warning (ironic) and decided to go to my house to watch about 8 hours of Star Wars content.

I remember three things, as usual:

1) I fully expected him to want to go home as soon as we were back in London, so it surprised me when he suggested we'd do an unplanned movie night.

2) He fell asleep on my couch around 10pm, probably due to a combination of an early rise and his stomachache, and I felt this rush of affection because how relieving is it to see someone you care about at peace after seeing them in pain?

3) Andor's adoptive mother, from the Star Wars series we had landed on that night, pronouncing the line "I love him more than anything he could ever do wrong" just as I let myself feel that affection.

I did. I still do. We may not be destined to be in each other's life forever, but whenever, however I take my exit, I will not hate him.

Like I said, I am the heart.

The Disney Exhibition happened two months later.

I had bought tickets with my parents, but at some point it seemed like they couldn't travel to London, so I asked him and another friend of ours to go together.

I was expecting something to go wrong and sure enough it did.

He messaged me at midnight the night before, asking why we were going to the exhibition together if my parents had actually made it to London.

I played dumb and explained the reason why, but I knew a question like that, even though it was coming from him, was not his doing. I wondered if she had planted the doubt in his mind that I had lied about my parents not coming just so that I could have an excuse to invite him. I don't know, I will never probably know, if I was right, but for the sake of argument I'll point out that if I had wanted to orchestrate something like that, I would not have invited anyone else.

Still, my mind spiralled.

Would he really believe I'd lie to him like that? Did he really think me that pathetic? Above all, had her claws sunk that deep into his skin that he couldn't discern my actual behaviour from her jealousy?

"Please don't let this linger in the air the whole night. Tell me what's going on," I begged him, as patiently as I could, against my basic instincts.

I wouldn't hear from him until 6am the next morning. Needless to say, I slept something like 20 minutes all together that night.

They had argued the whole night because apparently he had promised her to go to the exhibition for her birthday; he had never bought tickets, she had never mentioned it for a whole month after and threw a fit when she found out he was going to go with me.

He spared me the details of the argument and I pray to every single god our entire race believes in, that the words I imagine were said were not actually said.

"I'm sorry i'm letting you down again," he told me at the end of a frantic, apologetic, pitiful text.

And I hated her for making him feel like that.

I saw the manipulation behind the whole argument, the way she had used his forgetfulness to make him feel guilty, because yes he has a tendency to forget plans, but he also always remembers them at the last minute in the end. If he hadn't remembered that even after a whole night of arguing, I genuinely do not believe that promise was ever actually made.

But he'd believe it.

He'd believe to be both a horrible, cheating boyfriend and disappointing best friend.

And I wasn't going to fuel that belief. I wasn't going to stretch him in eighteen different directions. Even if he was consistently choosing people who took advantage of his people-pleasing, even if I had more reasons than anyone in his life to punch him in his guts, I wasn't going to be part of that group.

"I'm not mad, not even one bit." I really wasn't. I don't know why. Therapy, I guess. "And you don't have to come to the exhibition if it's such a problem or if you're exhausted from arguing. Just please don't shut down. I know you think it makes it easy, but I promise it just hurts you more."

I genuinely thought he'd run away to his parents for four days again...which I mean, it would be fine if he really needed it, but I needed to reiterate I was there for him.

Always.

Particularly if he had the slightest doubt I was gonna leave.

We never talked about that day.

I bought him a Spiderman funko pop at the exhibition and gave him a hug before proceeding to fall off the stairs when he came to my house later that evening, but I didn't want to - nor need to - know about the details of that argument.

All I knew was I was on the right path. For myself.

She could pin all her insecurities on me, dictate the rules of his freedom and free will, forbid our friendship, but for the first time in the entire year it was suddenly clear to me that none of it was actually my fault.

I had dropped my expectations, stayed away from him every time it wasn't necessary, kept my thoughts about their relationship to myself, I had done everything I could to remove myself from her radar except actually disappearing from the face of the earth.

If that was still not enough for her to feel valued and safe, if she could still find excuses to make him feel bad about whatever he was giving her, if she couldn't see he had taken stuff away from all of us in his life to give it all to her, if she still felt like their relationship wouldn't sustain unless they were physically together or constantly in touch all the time, then the cause was to be searched inward.

I had nothing to do with it.

That epiphany and the effortless complicity that simply existed between me and him even as I actively tried to push it in the basement locker of my persona...Those are the two thoughts I hold on to when the waters threat to start whirling again.

And unfortunately, they very often do.

DEPRESSION

On some days I wake up and instantly know it's going to be hard.

On those days I feel it all, all over again.

The death, the anger, the injustice.

It doesn't matter if I've gone weeks without a hint of hopelessness.

I emphasize every little emotion...If someone is nice to me, I weep and if something triggers me, I fall apart.

On those days I struggle to swim back the most, because I feel like all my work, my therapy, my bargaining, my efforts have been for nothing.

I will never come out of this.

I will never come back from this.

I will never be happy again, complete again.

I will always be alone, because if my best friend could leave me so easily, then what chance do my other friends have? What chances do strangers have?

It's unfair of me, because strangers don't know me and my friends have never made me work so hard for their friendship and they all stayed anyway. They all keep showing up. They all remember me.

They save me in every little way they can master.

And I hate myself because on some days, on those days, I can't seem to care about anything other than the fact he didn't. I've had so many of those days that I even stopped writing for what is probably the longest I have ever gone without writing. Ever.

On those days I imagine a little protective entity up above, watching over me and saying "THAT was your best shot. You ignored it. I am done sending you anyone else."

Was he really my best, last shot? He's not the first one who slipped through my fingers because I was too afraid, too rational, too...much.

How many more chances could I be granted?

Should I have given in and forced myself to fall in love with him so that I could be entitled to my feelings?

No.

I didn't want him to be my friend by force. Sure as hell I wouldn't want him to be the love of my life by force either.

That's not how the love of your life works. I don't care how long I have to wait for it. That's not the story I wanna tell.

And after all, can you really force someone to love you? You can force someone to be with you, like she did, but I want to be Loved. I haven't postponed romance in my life just to settle for someone I don't wanna lose but doesn't make me feel whole in all my flaws. I want it to be unavoidably mutual, playful and meaningful all at the same time. I don't want to be half of a couple people wonder why they're even together, like him and her. I want to be the one that makes sense, the one that someone like me would look at and hold on to a frail hope a little bit longer because...look at them, it's possible.

Yet on those days I can't help but wonder if we were just too stupid, self absorbed in our nerdiness and lightness to notice what everyone else seemed to notice.

That we didn't need anyone else.

But like I said, what ifs aren't a thing.

What is real is that I, for sure, didn't need anyone else.

He, on the other hand, needed everyone but me.

I just so happened to be there when no one else was.

ACCEPTANCE

I'm not there yet.

Not fully.

Every passing day I get a little more aware of how much I've overcome, how long I've survived, how unreal that fear of death was on that first night but also how truthful my worry that our friendship was dying under our blindfolded eyes.

However, it is now normality to me, that we don't talk, we don't make plans, we don't show up at each other's door despite living ten minutes away from each other. We don't leave our favourite snacks in each other's lockers at work or post-its on the computer screen when one is closing and the other one is opening the next day.

We will always have an endless list of movies we were meant to watch and places we were meant to visit together, which we will now never tick off.

Or worse...we will tick them off with someone else, probably remembering that was "our" thing.

For me at least...He doesn't remember any of this, I'm sure.

We're incredibly close colleagues, but I have to work every day on convincing myself our friendship - the real one, the good one, the one everyone envied and someone enjoyed to see shattered - is a long gone memory I will never stop grieving.

No matter how many people believe I shouldn't.

#grief #stages of grief #breakup #friendship #feelings #thoughts #short stories #love #pain #writing #therapy #mental health #anger #denial #bargaining #depression #acceptance

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boxofancientdaydreams · 2 years

Text

Comfort

Pairing: Jeongin x f!reader (she/her pronouns used)

wc: 959

Genre: Hurt/Comfort (mostly comfort), friends to lovers?

Warnings: none - sfw

note: I don’t really know what this is. I think I just needed some comfort.

This was originally a part of a bigger story I planned, but I decided to publish it separately.

Anyway... this is my first piece of writing that I’ve published, so please don’t be too hard on me :)

I’d appreciate constructive criticism if you have any.

Also: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. And I’m sorry, I really suck at titles.

When her doorbell rang at 1am, she sighed and wondered who the heck would disturb her after she finally finished her project and was heading to sleep. She carried herself to the front door of her apartment and opened it to kindly remind whoever it was that it was the middle of the night. However, when she locked eyes with the person standing outside her door, her irritation and confusion was quickly replaced by surprise. She stood face to face with her close friend Jeongin. All thoughts of sleep vanished from her mind the second she set eyes on the shaking young man. Only a split second had passed from her opening the door and him stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her tightly. She looked down at the mop of black hair that was now hiding his face in the crook of her neck while clinging to her as if she was his lifeline.

She felt her shirt collar slowly growing wet and felt him shiver in her hold. Aware of the still open door and her ever curious neighbors, she started to lightly stroke his shoulders and softly lifted his head so he was looking at her. She didn’t tell him that he should stop crying, knowing that he obviously needed to get whatever this was off his chest. Instead she asked, “Do you want to come inside?”

Instead of answering he slowly let go of her waist and stepped all the way inside. She reached behind him and locked the door. When she turned around he was looking at her with tear-filled orbs. Silently she took his hand and led him to her bedroom. There she motioned for him to take a seat on the bed and he hesitantly sat down. Without letting go of his hand she took place beside him. She locked eyes with him.

“Are you hurt?” — Concern laced her voice.

He shook his head.

“Do the others know you’re here?”

He shook his head again, eyes trained on their interlocked hands in his lap.

“Okay. You can stay here as long as you need.”

He mumbled a soft thank-you while slowly looking back up. She noticed the tears welling up in his eyes again and hesitantly moved her free hand to cup his face, not knowing if he needed space. As soon as her palm made contact with his skin he pressed his face more into her hands and her worries disappeared.

“What do you need?” she asked while starting to gently stroke his cheek with her thumb.

“Please… just stay with me.” As soon as the whispered plea left his lips, the tears fell down his face again.

“Of course.”

And for a while they just stayed like this. She kept holding his hand while brushing away the small rivers running across his face. His body shaking in time with his sobs. After some time had passed, his tears dried out and his breathing calmed. Jeongin opened his eyes looking at her. She moved to take away her hand that still cupped his cheek but before she could move far he gripped her hand in his free one.

“Don’t leave!” His eyes were almost comically wide and fear painted his expression. “I’m sorry but please don’t leave,” he said now in a calmer tone while loosening his hold on her wrist.

“I’m not going anywhere. I just wanted to ask if you wanted a glass of water or a cup of tea.”

“Oh… no thank you. I’m okay. Just please don’t leave me alone. I can’t be alone right now.”, he begged quietly.

“I promise you, I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to.”

As soon as the words had left her lips he visibly calmed down. His arms found their way around her middle and his head was hidden in the crook of her neck. The force of his body crashing into hers almost sent them both backwards.

His actions took her by surprise. He was someone who usually preferred to have his space. It didn’t take her long to accommodate though and she hugged him close. She moved their bodies into a more comfortable position so they were both lying down, his body splayed out over hers, so close that they almost became one.

She didn’t push him to tell her the reason he found himself at her door at one in the morning trembling and crying. If he wanted to tell her he would eventually. She just hoped to at least be able to provide him a bit of comfort. Her hand found itself threading her fingers through his hair and lightly massaging his scalp, while the other one smoothed over the tension in his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” he spoke with a wobbly voice. “I shouldn’t have bothered you with this. You shouldn’t have to look after me like this.”

“Don’t ever apologize for asking for help or for needing someone in moments like this. I care about you and you can always come to me if you need anything, no matter what that might be.” She insisted.

She felt him nod against her collarbone and felt his hold tighten a little more. After a while she felt his breathing even out and soon heard soft snores leave his lips. She kept stroking his hair and drawing little figures on his covered back. She continued for a long time until sleep finally got the upper hand and her eyes fluttered shut. Whatever was on the young man’s mind, she would try her best to be there for him and to help him get through it. She cared about him, probably more than he knew, but that was a conversation for another time.

#skz imagine #jeongin x reader #jeongin x fem!reader #i.n. x reader #i.n. x fem!reader #skz hurt/comfort #skz fluff #stray kids imagine

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You

FEBRUARY 13th

It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.

Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.

And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.

Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.

Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.

Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.

"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.

"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."

"That boy still on your mind, hon?"

Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"

There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."

"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."

"You weren't going to?"

"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."

Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"

Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."

The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.

Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.

But it just felt like it was too soon.

Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.

Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.

And that was putting it lightly.

Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.

And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.

She almost thought about taking them down.

But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.

And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.

FEBRUARY 14th

She promptly decided that she hated his guts.

It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.

"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."

"Yeah!"

Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.

Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"

"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.

Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.

Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.

So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.

Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.

Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.

Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.

Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.

Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.

But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.

"Y/N?"

Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.

"Spencer! You answered!"

"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"

"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."

"You're not outside, are you?"

"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.

"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.

FEBRUARY 15th

Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.

Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.

His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.

But of course it was never that simple.

Y/N was never that simple.

He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.

Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.

But again, it was never that simple.

It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.

Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.

Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.

He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.

Guilt.

And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.

All she had to do was talk.

He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.

That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?

He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.

He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.

It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.

So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.

Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.

He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.

***

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.

Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.

And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.

Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.

Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...

And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.

He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.

Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.

But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.

Maybe I could hide...

He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"

The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother."

That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.

His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.

He needed to get out of there.

"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."

"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"

Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.

Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."

"You sure?"

This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.

"I—I'm sure. Really."

"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."

"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."

She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.

"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."

He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.

It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.

She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...

He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.

The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.

"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.

Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.

"Screw breakfast."

Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.

Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.

He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.

She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.

The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.

So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.

"Fuck me..."

There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...

But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.

It was all he'd ever known.

All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.

And his hands were just as destructive.

Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.

His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.

But as always, Y/N was insatiable.

She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.

"I need you, baby, please..."

Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.

Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.

That's how they always were.

Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...

A distraction.

And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.

It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.

So they simply burned and burned and burned...

Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.

Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.

And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.

Even still, no fire can burn forever.

All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...

It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.

She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.

Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."

"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."

The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"

"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.

She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.

It was guilt.

Regret.

Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.

When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.

The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.

So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.

Maybe this time really was different.

Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."

But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.

He almost sunk to his knees right there...

Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...

It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.

But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.

Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.

So, he settled on, "You're welcome."

He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.

Maybe this time it would stick.

Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.

And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.

***

Neither of them could sleep that night.

While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

The same constellation caught their eye.

Columba.

The Dove.

She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.

Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.

The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.

All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...

It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.

I love her...

He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.

Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.

Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.

And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?

“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”

***

SERIES TAGLIST: @reidyoulikeabook @yourmisosoup @fortheloveofcriminalminds @bellzo17 @altsvu @flipperpenguins @mcumorningstar

TAGS NOT WORKING: @reid-to-me @totallyclearwitch

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #losing you twice

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bubbleteaimagines · 3 years

Text

age gap

tony stark oneshot

tony x you

swearing, large age gap

in this day and age it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

but it was.

y/n l/n and tony stark became trending worldwide, every gossip magazine and newspaper out for whatever information they could get about your relationship.

the relationship by the way, that had a 28 year age gap.

you were 20 and tony was turning 48, though it seemed neither of you cared as much as the world did.

you thought it was perfectly normal, seeing as your parents were years apart and tony simply didn’t give a damn.

‘screw the tabloids’ he always said, but sometimes it wasn’t that easy.

at home, you were able to relax with the idea of your age gap as it was just the two of you being y/n and tony.

but out in public, it was an entirely different deal.

whispers, stares, pictures. you name it and people did it, not even caring or respecting your private time with tony when you went out.

you didn’t expect for it to bother you as much as it did. you thought that maybe with tony by your side you could block out the whispers and the hateful stares but it was nearly impossible as it happened almost everywhere you went.

even if you went grocery shopping for god’s sake, someone still had something negative to say.

of course, tony defended you as much as he could. he tried to shield you from the hateful words and articles but sometimes he wasn’t enough.

sometimes, it did get to you and soon you realized you didn’t know how much more you could take.

you loved tony, but after being constantly called a gold digger and his sugar baby, you began to doubt yourself, and your relationship.

were you really as manipulative as the papers said? were you really just with tony for his money?

of course not. deep down you knew that with or without money you loved tony stark. and he loved you, but it didn’t help that he also loved to spoil you and he was paying almost all of your college tuition.

even though you insisted he didn’t, he did anyways. he reassured you after countless protest that that was just something he did; he took care of everyone he loved.

eventually you were forced to settle with the idea. but it never stopped the running thoughts in your head.

am i really that bad as everyone says?

it was during a christmas party that tony was holding that you finally snapped.

tony had gone all out; getting the most expensive decorations and inviting all of the richest people he knew.

and of course, since it was tony, he also got the best alcohol money could buy, and unfortunately you weren’t allowed to drink a single drop.

all night, you had stood awkwardly by tony’s side in your pretty red dress, holding a cup full of water and laughing uncomfortably as you were forced to listen to drunk rich people tell unamusing stories.

by now, the music was blasting, night had fallen, and you were pretty sure you were only one not drunk at the party, minus tony and steve.

the elegant cup that you pretended to drink from held nothing expect for water and it was only another painful reminder that you were probably the youngest one at the party.

out of respect, tony decided he wasn’t going to drink either but that did nothing to ease you. If anything, you wished that he had been drinking so that he wouldn’t remember the embarrassing conversation you were having with some of the housewives he invited.

“so, y/n, tell me,” a woman name martha kalnins gushed as she sat on one of tony’s luxurious couches, obviously drunk from one of the many glasses of wine she had had. “Is Tony really as amazing in bed as everyone says he is?”

a round of laugher from the other housewives around you made you shift uncomfortably, thankful the dark room didn’t show the frown radiating off of you.

“uh… i uh,” you sounded like a child, struggling to answer her question and you laughed uncomfortably as to not show how disturbed you really were. you shared a look with tony.

“i mean … h-he’s great at everything, honestly. it’s tony stark we’re talking about,” you answered unsurely, and tony squeezed your thigh as the women laughed again.

“oh, i guess you’re right,” martha slurred and took another drink. “that tony is a catch. hell, if i had been twenty years younger like you i would’ve snatched him up, too. with that tight little body of yours it’s no wonder he’s so eager to pay your bills.”

another round of laughter and you could feel tony beginning to tense up beside you. now, it was your turn to squeeze his leg and you turned back to the women with a tight smile.

“oh, tony doesn’t pay my bills,” you tried to assure them but they waved it off.

“oh nonsense. why else would you be with a man that’s almost 50?” another woman asked you and you threw her a sharp glare.

you were starting to heat up, not appreciating their little jabs at your relationship.

“why am i with him?” you pulled out your cold tone and scoffed at her. “i don’t know— maybe because i love him?” you said a little angrily.

how dare they insinuate anything else than the truth: you loved tony and you didn’t give a damn about his age.

the woman snorted. “yeah. that’s what i told myself when i first met howie,” she threw a glance to an older man in the corner. “sure does make the sex a lot easier when you think you love them.”

you couldn’t stop your blood from boiling.

“how dare you!”

in an instant, you were up and out of your seat, the woman’s smile long gone as you angrily got in her face.

“y/n!” tony tried to stop you but you were sick of it. you were sick of it all; the jokes, the jabs, the little comments that nobody had any business making on your relationship.

you were done.

“how dare you talk about my relationship like that when you know nothing about us!” you fumed and suddenly you had everyone’s attention.

“who are you come into our house and as our guest disrespect us? you don’t know a thing about tony and i. not a single damn thing. you don’t know about all of the late nights we have, all of the laughs we share and all of the movies we watch. you don’t know about all the things we have in common besides sex and you damn well don’t know anything about me! you don’t, because if you did then you’d know i’m not with him for the money, or the fame, or whatever else you think is associated with tony stark. i’m not here for any of that. i’m here for him, so why don’t you get your head out of your ass and realize that just because you spread your legs for money, that doesn’t mean the rest of us do!”

by the time you finished you were panting and everyone was in complete shock. it was silent, and the woman in front of you looked as if she didn’t know what the hell to do.

no one did as you stood with your chest moving heavily, your well deserved rant coming off of your consciousness.

you huffed.

“well then. seeing as i’m only 20, i guess it’s past my bedtime,” you rolled your eyes and looked at the clock, noticing it was 1AM.

“i’ll see you all … whenever. goodnight.”

you did a dramatic turn and then proceeded to exit tony stark style. leaving a big commotion behind you and no doubt people that would spread your words everywhere the next morning.

that would be another problem you would have to worry about, but right now you focused on just sleeping the entire night away.

sighing, you changed out of your dress into some shorts and swiftly got under the covers.

you closed your eyes, and you tried to let sleep come to you but it was almost impossible as you were painfully aware the spot next to you was empty.

tony hadn’t come to bed yet and it was like your body refused to let you rest until he did.

sighing again, you peeled your eyes open again and decided to stare up at the blank ceiling, waiting for tony to come to bed.

when he finally did, it was around 3AM in the morning but even the dark you could see his shit-eating grin.

“well, that was quite the performance tonight, miss l/n,” tony teased almost immediately and you groaned.

“sorry if i ruined your party,” you apologized to tony and buried your face in a pillow. “i just got so mad that people kept insinuating i was only with you for that that i just … i just snapped.” you explained.

tony was still grinning and you felt the bed dip as he gently slid in beside you.

“don’t worry about it. i’d say that was more entertaining than mrs. mccoy getting so drunk she admitted she was cheating with garden boy,” tony laughed and you snorted.

“great. i was the biggest scandal of the night,” you sighed.

“biggest one of the century, actually. how long do you think it’s gonna take for people to start talking about it?”

“i’d say it’ll make an appearance in the morning. some magazine talking about how tony stark’s sugar baby finally blew her fuse,” you yawned and tony chuckled.

“yeah well, at lease i don’t have to worry about if it’s true now.”

“worry if what’s true?”

“that you love me,” he said quietly.

you peered up at him in the dark.

“tony? what? of course i love you,” you frowned. you felt the pillow shift as tony shook his head.

“no, yeah, i know,” he said. “but now i don’t have to worry about if it’s tony stark you’re attracted to, or iron man.”

“clearly i wouldn’t be attracted to a piece of metal, tony,” you both rolled your eyes simultaneously.

“yeah, no shit,” tony sighed. “but i mean like— i don’t have to worry about which personality you’re attracted to. now i know for sure that it’s me that you want, and not just my name. or my fortune.”

“well, technically both are still up from grabs,” you smirked in the dark. “haven’t signed a pre-nup yet.”

“oh but you definitely will now,” tony scoffed, but there was humor behind both of your words.

you both found comfort in knowing that you only wanted each other, and not for the reasons everyone else thought.

you weren’t with tony for the money. and he wasn’t with you for the sex.

you both genuinely and honestly loved each other, and now you knew that no ridiculous tabloid or paper was ever gonna make you doubt that again.

#tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark #iron man x reader #iron man x you #iron man #tony stark one shot

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backtothefanfiction · 3 years

Text

WHAT BENNY DOESN'T KNOW | Chapter 7

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: Post mission confessions and will Benny finally find out what he's been missing out on?

Warnings: Mature 18+ ONLY!! Language, Smut and General Feels.

Word Count: 4852

A/N: Final chapter and final author's note. You guys have been so amazing throughout this series, showing me love and care and just overall enjoying my writing. My lucky number is 7 so seems only fitting that this has ended at 7 parts. Like I said in my little post earlier today, I couldn't have asked for a better group of people or fandom to share my final fanfiction piece with and the fact that its a completed series just makes me so happy and proud and ready to move on to my next writing ventures. Thank you all for everything, I will love and cherish you all always.

PART SEVEN | MISSION COMPLETE

The water pressure for the shower in your tiny hotel room was shit but you couldn't care less. You let out a deep sigh as your body relaxed into the feeling of the water washing over your body, washing away the grime and adrenaline that had come with the action packed day.

The job had been a huge success. You'd retrieved all the money with minimal casualties and delivered it safely to Santiago's contact across the border, but not before pocketing a little bit of it each.

It had been 1am when you had all made it to the tiny hillside hotel that overlooked the jungle. It wasn't much but the staff were friendly and there was the promise of breakfast included in the morning. There weren't many rooms so the boys had all doubled up, leaving you with a room to yourself. You had wasted no time, immediately dumping your bags and switching on the shower, half desperate to get clean, the other half desperate to run the tap cold to cool off from the heat.

You'd managed to stomach the cold for about 5 minutes before you had to turn it up a little, making the water more lukewarm than freezing. You quickly washed your hair and body with the single bar of soap that was provided with the room and got out. As much as you would have happily stayed standing under the running water a bit longer, you were also tired and desperate to sleep.

You wrapped yourself in one of the towels, which was a lot smaller than your preferred bath towels at home, only just covering your bum, and used the other towel provided to dry your hair as you walked back out into the small room. You had just sat down on the edge of the bed when there was a light knock on your door. For a moment you panicked a little, worried about opening the door and showing off too much skin to whoever was there, but then you remembered three out of your four team mates had already seen a lot more than this.

You had to stand on your tip toes to see through the view finder in the door so you could check and see who it was. They had their head down, but you'd recognise that hat anywhere. He was about to knock again when you suddenly opened the door.

Frankie's eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of you in the doorway. “Sorry, I was just getting out the shower.” you said as you held up the towel in your hand and continued to dry your hair as you spoke to him.

Frankie gave his head a small shake as he tried to get himself to focus again. “I broke up with Laura.” he blurted out. It wasn't what he was intending on starting with when he had first left the room he was sharing with Santiago, but he had become nervous and it had only gotten worse when you opened the door looking like that.

Your brow furrowed at his words. “What?” your question was almost a whisper. He held up his hand, a silent gesture asking if he could come in so you weren't having this conversation on a hotel room doorstep. “Umm yeah.” you said stepping aside, your voice starting to feel more confident, the shock of his statement wearing off.

“I broke up with Laura.” he said again as you closed the door. You remained silent as you observed him from across the room, encouraging him to elaborate. “When we went on that last job with Pope and everything went to shit,” he started; he was fiddling with his hands, unable to look at you. “There was this moment.” he continued. “When we were on the side of the mountain and I lost this mule and for a moment I saw my life flash before my eyes. I could have so easily have gone down with it.” he said, sitting himself down on the end of the bed. He took his hat off and began fiddling with the strap on the back of it. You stepped closer, taking a seat beside him, listening carefully.

“In that moment my brain thought of two things.” he said, his leg bouncing now. “I thought of my little girl's smiling face... and then I thought of you.” he admitted going silent, letting the statement hang in the air. You continued to examine his side profile as you waited patiently for him to continue. “Then when Tom died...” he finally said, his voice shaking slightly. He suddenly looked up at you and you felt your heart stop as you saw the faint traces of tears filling his eyes. “It was you, I just wanted to get home to you.” He paused a moment, looking back down at his hat in his fingers again before he continued. “I went home and told her everything.”

You braced yourself for what would come next in his story but it never came. “The worst thing was that she was so great about it. She said she wasn't surprised, that she knew that I was in love with you the first time she met you.” There was a long pause before he looked up at you again, his hand reaching out for yours, resting in your lap. “I wanted to tell you all this at the diner but you left before I got a chance to say anything. I wanted to tell you I was sorry, for all of it.”

“I'm sorry too, I should have never taken that job-”

“You did the right thing. Don't be sorry. I treated you like shit, I broke every promise that I made to you. I wasn't in a good place and I let you down and you were right. I needed help and we both needed space. Don't ever say you're sorry for that.” he said lifting his hand to wipe away a tear you hadn't realised was falling down your cheek.

“Frankie-” your voice cracked as you said his name.

“I got mad today because I was scared. Scared I was gonna lose you before I got a chance to tell you everything I've wanted to say since the moment I first saw you.” He paused, turning towards you and taking both of your hands in his. “I never believed in love at first sight, that was until I saw you and I knew there was something different there, I just didn't know what it was yet. You are the most beautiful, adventurous and stubborn woman I have ever met and I am so completely in love with everything about you. I don't want to carry on living my life without you-”

“I love you.” your voice came out suddenly as a whisper making him stop. “I love you Francisco Morales.” you said more sure of yourself. “I will always love you. I should have said it before when you told me you loved me but I couldn't.”

“I know.” he said it with such love but also such sorrow in his eyes. You sat there for a moment in silence as he put his hat back on, both of you just happy to be in each others company.

“So what do we do now?” you tentatively asked.

“I don't know. What do you want to do now?” he asked. His words were gentle but held a message of 'I'm happy to do whatever you want to do, as long as I get to do it with you'.

You took a deep breath in as you mustered the courage needed to make the first move. You stood up and Frankie sat himself upright, not taking his eyes away from yours once. You lifted your leg slowly, placing your knee onto the bed beside his thigh, before lifting the other one and placing it on the other side. Frankie's hands moved comfortably to your hips, guiding you into your seat on his lap.

You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, your eyes glancing down to his lips then back up to his eyes again. You slowly leant forward until your lips were touching his. It was tentative at first, but as soon as those fireworks went off in your mind and your lips tingled at his touch, you both wasted no time deepening the kiss. He wrapped both of his arms around your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

You nudged the brim of his hat with your head and he reached up to take it off, placing it on the corner of the bed. You leant forward against him and he lay himself back against the mattress, encouraging you with his lips to follow.

He brought a hand up to cup your jaw as he ran the tip of his tongue along your lower lip, gently asking for entry. You happily met his tongue in the middle with your own. You suddenly felt a tightening feeling in your chest and you broke the kiss sitting yourself upright, needing more room to breathe. “You okay?” he asked softly as he saw you bring a hand to your chest, rubbing at the spot inbetween your breasts where the pain was.

“Yeah, I just forgot to breath properly.” you half lied.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked, sensing your anxiety. He couldn't blame you for it, he knew he'd put you through a lot in the past and he didn't want to rush you.

“No, I'm just...” your sentence caught in your throat as you began to overthink the statement that was about to fall out of your mouth, your brain telling you you were being silly. You let your body slide off of him to the side but kept your legs lazily over the top of his. He gently stroked his fingertips across the bare skin with one hand, while he propped himself up on his opposite elbow to look at you. He waited patiently for you to continue, his brown eyes soft and encouraging. Safe.

“It's silly. I'm being silly.” you said, trying to laugh off the feeling within you. He continued to wait patiently. “I'm just nervous.” you finally said. “I want us to... I want to... I just... It's been a little while since I... and with you.” you mumbled out, trying to explain how you were feeling but feeling so silly for it. This obviously wasn't your first time sleeping together but it was so different from any other time the two of you had done it. You felt lost, all your confidence draining out of you. You wanted him to take charge, but not in the way that Santi had in Italy, more like how Will had. Soft and encouraging. Actions full of adoration and care. You wanted this to feel natural, yet still passionate and full of love. You just didn't know how to initiate that.

“Come here.” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. He gave you a chaste kiss to the top of your head as he held you loosely against his chest, allowing you time to breathe and relax.

When you felt the feeling in your chest subside, you looked up at him, silently telling him with your eyes you were ready to try again. He leant down, meeting his lips with yours once more. The tingling feeling in your lips came back, but as you inhaled through your nose, so did the feeling in your chest. Your breathing hitched and Frankie sensed your discomfort again. “Why don't you lie down.” he encouraged you, motioning to the pillows at the top of the bed with his head.

He used the opportunity, as you climbed up the bed, to kick his shoes off and take off his pants so he was sat comfortably at the end of the bed in his t-shirt and briefs. You pulled your lips into a tight happy smirk at the sight, as you settled into the pillows. He smiled back at you as he caught you admiring him, lowering himself sideways again, his elbow propping himself up. “I love you Frankie.” you said, a quiet giddiness to your voice.

“Yeah?” he questioned, his eyebrows playfully raising. “Good.” he said as he looked down at the bed bashfully before back up to your eyes. They then slowly trailed down to where your towel was wrapped tightly across the top of your breasts. You watched him slowly make his way up the bed towards you, his fingers tentatively reaching out for the fabric.

You held your breath in anticipation as he began to pull on the towel, the tight tuck coming free. He slowly pulled the towel apart and you became bashful at his gaze. He leaned forward to give you a brief kiss on your lips before they began to make their journey down your chin, then to your neck. They grazed across your breasts to your nipples and your breathing hitched as he placed a gentle kiss on either of them.

He then shuffled backwards on the bed, his hands gripping your thighs and pulling you into a more laid down position, making you giggle. He then went back to trailing kisses down your body. Every kiss as he made his way down to your thighs was gentle and appreciative. Your breathing hitched again when his lips started to make their way up from your knees, his scruff tickling the sensitive skin as he kissed up your thigh. He stopped just before he reached your centre, teasing you before he began kissing down the inside of the opposite thigh, down to your knee then back up again.

He stopped again, just before reaching your core, it tingled in anticipation. You tilted your head to see him smiling at you and you bashfully giggled before he leant forward, his tongue darting out to lap at your folds, his nose nudging your clit. You let out a breathy moan at the feel of his mouth re-exploring you after so long. The sounds of your pleasure encouraged his tongue to dive deeper into your folds, his arms hooking under your thighs, pulling you closer to him. His fingers stroked lazily and soothingly over your thighs and you felt yourself relax further into his touch, your previous anxieties becoming a distant memory.

You raised your legs and Frankie's hands pushed against the back of your thighs, opening you up wider, the tips of your toes brushing against his shoulders. He sat himself up for a moment and pulled off his t-shirt, throwing it across the room, before his head dived back down between your legs. He guided your swollen clit with his tongue, sucking it between his lips, the sensitivity and pleasure sending your head rolling back into the pillows. His name fell from your lips in a breathy whisper and Frankie felt his underwear grow tighter.

Your hips began to squirm, rolling your clit against his tongue in just the way you liked, as two of his fingers dove into your soaking cunt. You felt them stretch you out at first but then he curled them inside you, rubbing against that sweet spot that had you careening quickly towards your finish. Your fingers reached down, threading themselves into his loose curls, attempting to ground yourself as your release began to take over.

Your legs clamped around either side of his head and you felt him let out a small breathy chuckle through his nose. He buried his tongue deeper into your folds, lapping up everything you were giving him as your cries of pleasure rang out through the room.

Your legs finally released him and he quickly came up for air, a large grin plastered across his face. You brought your knees up tight to your chest, a large smile across your face and a giddy giggle falling from your lips. Frankie felt like he had gone to heaven as he leaned down to kiss your lips. He broke away, placing a kiss on your forehead as he got up from the bed to rid himself of his underwear, his hard cock springing free.

You rolled over onto your knees and crawled across the bed towards him. He took your face in his hands, bending down to reconnect your lips once more between smiles as you both shuffled backwards onto the bed. You encouraged him to lay down, his hands shuffling the pillow under his head to get comfortable.

You straddled his hips and he took his erection into his hand, lining it up with your entrance. As you lowered yourself down slowly onto his cock, letting it stretch you out, Frankie had this overwhelming feeling of coming home. When you had taken him inside you completely, he guided your head down to his so he could give you a deep passionate kiss. “I love you.” he mumbled the words against your lips and your eyes closed in bliss, your forehead resting against his as his hips began to roll up into you.

You began to moan in pleasure at the feeling of his hard cock thrusting slowly and deeply inside you, the prominent blood filled veins and the head if his member rubbing against the most sensitive parts of your walls. The feeling was overwhelming as you both rocked yourselves against one another, your breathing becoming laboured. You could feel your next orgasm building quickly as you reached a hand between your two bodies, your fingers beginning to circle your clit.

Your moans became more frequent and Frankie could tell you were close, “Come on baby.” he encouraged you. “Come on baby. Let me see that pretty face you make when you cum all over my cock.” His hands reached up to cup the sides of your face, guiding your head into the best angle for him to see you. Your eyes became unfocussed and you cried out as your pleasure took over you.

He continued to roll up into you with the same agonising pace, dragging your orgasm out as long as he could. “Frankie please.” you whined as the sensitivity became too much and he let go of his hold on your face allowing you to collapse against him, your head burying itself between his neck and the pillow. He listened closely to your ragged breaths as you attempted to come down from your high.

When you lifted your head, he could see small glistening tears in your eyes. He tilted his head to kiss your lips, his hand reaching up to smooth your hair. “You know I think that's one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.” you smiled bashfully at his words. “Can I do it again?” he asked. You nodded as small yes escaping your lips before you kissed him, his hips beginning to roll up into you again.

His hands gripped onto your hips, grinding you down against him as he thrust up into you. Your lips attacked one another with fervour, your tongues melting into one another, your laboured breathing becoming one. He snaked his arms around you and his thrusts paused a moment as he rolled the two of you over so he was now situated on top of you, your legs locking around his back, his forearms pressed to the bed either side of you, encapsulating you with his body.

His thrusts became stronger and a little more powerful as he began to push you both towards your final highs. You pushed your knees back closer to your chest, encouraging him deeper still. He began hitting the most perfect spot, “Yes right there, please don't stop, don't stop.” you said wrapping your arms around his neck as his thrusts became quicker.

He buried his head against the crook of your neck as he tried to focus on not finishing before he had made you cum one last time but your moans and gasps were sending him over the edge. He counted his lucky stars as he felt your walls clamp down around him, the pulsations of your orgasm bringing him to his own finish. He propped himself up as he stilled inside you, his lips attaching to yours, thanking you for the moment you just shared together.

He pulled his head back to admire the blissed out smile across your face and the adoration in your eyes as you looked at him. “You know you were always the best right?” you teased him and he hung his head as he let out a chuckle, a reminder of your comment earlier in the day.

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

You both settled under the covers, curling into each others bodies, your limbs intertwined as one as you talked quietly in the dark. “Did he really have the safety on the whole time?” Frankie questioned you again, he still didn't believe your statement.

“Yeah.” you said propping yourself up so you could try to make out his face in the dark as the smile of complete and utter disbelief grew across his face. “I had to take it off to shoot him when I took the gun from him.” you said as you settled your chin back against his chest, feeling the rumble of his low laugh vibrate through it. “Is anyone ever going to tell Benny?” you pondered, turning your head to the side, your ear listening to his heartbeat and his relaxed breaths.

“I'm sure Ironhead will someday.” you both let out a snigger then as you thought of what Ben's reaction would be like the day he got to find out about all the things he'd been missing out on. “Did Pope really do that stuff he said he did to you in Italy?”

“You jealous Frankie?” your voice teased playfully. “You play your cards right maybe you can get the chance to do it one day... or I could do it to you.” You felt him go rigid underneath you, the idea of you tying him to the bed and teasing him all night playing out in his head. You propped yourself up, reaching to give him a kiss and break him away from his thoughts. He gave you a devious smirk that you could only just make out in the dark.

You settled back into his chest and his fingers began to draw lazy circles on your back, your eyes growing heavy under his comforting touch. “Hey Magpie?” his voice rung out in the silence.

“Yeah.” you mumbled lazily into his chest, your eyes remaining closed.

“What happens when we get home?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean us and Laura and the baby? I just... I want to do the right thing.” he said and you propped your head up again to look at him, knowing he needed to have your full attention for this conversation.

“What do you want to happen?” you asked him cautiously.

“I want to go home and be able to say you're my girlfriend, my partner.” he hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I want to have you by my side to raise my little girl with me. For you to share all your best qualities with her so she will grow up into an amazing woman. I always thought you'd make an amazing mom.” he said. You searched the dark for his eyes, they were soft and full of so much adoration for you. “I know it's a lot to put on you and I'm not asking you to step up and be her mom, that's what Laura's for, but I want you in her life. To be her friend and safe place like you are to me.”

You paused a moment, taking in his words before nodding and quietly saying, “Yeah okay.”

“Yeah?” he said hopefully as a large smile broke out onto his face.

“Yeah.” you said again, the nod of your head growing stronger and a smile spreading across your lips at the idea of you nurturing the little girl that was half of the man you loved. He leant forward crashing his lips into yours before reaching to place a grateful kiss on your forehead. He pulled you back down into his arms and smiled contently, his eyes closing and head relaxing deep into the pillow, happy to finally be able to sleep with you in his arms.

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

“Where's Catfish?” Will asked as Santiago sat himself down at the table in the quiet breakfast room, a large plate piled high with food from the spread on a table at the far side of the room, held firmly in his hand.

“I'm guessing he's having a lie in.” Santi smirked across the table with a small raise of his eyebrows.

“Didn't you share a room with him last night?” Benny mumbled through a mouthful of food.

“I shared a room with his stuff.” Santiago teased and he and Will shared a coy smile. Benny looked between the two confused. His confusion didn't last long though as you and Frankie walked into the breakfast room together, smiling and making eyes at each other.

“Wait? Fish and Magpie?” Benny questioned, his brow furrowed. Santiago and Will just gave small sniggers as they focused their eyes on their plates.

“Morning.” you said with a cheerful smile as you settled yourself in the free chair next to Santiago.

“Well someone's in a good mood this morning.” Will teased you as you reached for the pot of coffee in the middle of the table, filling up a cup, as Frankie settled himself in the seat the other side of you. You shot the older Miller brother a warning look and he tried his best to fight off a laugh as Frankie relaxed back in his seat, He rested his arm on the back of your chair, as you filled his cup with coffee too. His hand rubbed gently over your back, letting you know he was grateful for the gesture.

“How did you guys sleep last night?” you asked in an attempt to distract Benny who was staring across the table at you and Frankie, trying to work out what was happening.

“I slept great.” Santiago said between mouthfuls. “Had a nice quiet night to myself.”

“Wait, are we not going to acknowledge what's going on here?” Benny said, his hands falling heavy on the table top as he looked between each of you.

“I don't know. What do you think's going on here Benny?” Frankie teased him.

“I- Uh. I don't know. You tell me.” Benny replied, his eyebrows raising at yourself and Frankie.

“He slept with her last night.” Santiago said, still enjoying his food. He said it so nonchalantly, like it was common knowledge and you had to fight the large grin that wanted to break out over your face. Benny's eyes grew wide as the realisation of your words the day before really hit him.

“Wait! What! Was this what I was missing!” Benny said a little too loudly, drawing the attention of the other guests in the room. Frankie raised his hand at them and gestured a silent sorry to the other tables as Benny tried to regain his composure.

“Come on, I'll fill you in outside.” Will said as he got up from his seat, encouraging Benny to go with him. Benny moaned as he left his still half full plate on the table. You and Frankie watched giddily as Benny skulked off behind his brother.

“So you guys finally sorted things out then.” Santiago said more as a statement as he took a sip of his coffee. You and Frankie just gave each other a reassuring smile in response and Santiago sat back in his chair to admire the two of you. “Guess this means I'll never get to fuck her again then.” he said to Frankie.

“I don't know man, if you play your cards right and she wants to?” Frankie left the statement open ended and you gave him a playful smile. Santiago let out a small snigger lifting his cup up to Frankie as a touché.

“Just promise me you'll treat her right.” Santiago said to his friend softly as he placed his now empty coffee cup back onto the table.

“I will man.” Frankie replied as he looked to you with adoration. Santiago smiled giving you a small nod, blessing your new relationship as he stood up from the table. He placed a caring hand on your shoulder as he bent down to kiss your cheek, his last parting gesture.

You turned yourself towards Frankie's embrace as Santiago left the breakfast room and he placed a kiss on top of your head. You both sat there content in each others silence as you picked at your breakfast on the table before you. You reached for the pot of coffee to top up both your cups when a loud giddy shout of “OOOHH SHIT!” carried through from the lobby area of the hotel. It was official, Benny finally knew everything.

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

@icanbeyourjedi @theshiningharmony @darnitdraco @kesskirata @wyn-dixie @rosiefridayrogersunday @actual-spawn-of-satan @clydesducktape @asta-lily @honey-hi @heythere-mel @heidi-toevs @wigofokoye @choricenter @goodgriefitsawildworld @lostgirlheather @d0uwannkn0w @justdrawings101 @nicotinebirds @bisexualolympus @babyratt19 @cookiecat22 @peterhollandkait @a-bang-for-your-bucky @asta-lily @codenamewife @lazyunknownwerewolf @emmy626 @natura1phenomenon @fanfics-that-hit-my-feels @fangirl-316 @thisisthewaytofiction @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads @aficwhore @slayerx147 @alberta-sunrise @itspdameronthings @nano-pax @bunnypascal @niki-xie @eowynshairflip @mamacitapascal @dobbyjen @t3rradactyl @shadowolf993

#triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #what benny doesn’t know #will miller #will ironhead miller #will miller x reader #benny miller

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aching-tummies · 3 years

Text

24h fasting to Navel gurgles

Been working 7 days a week for a couple of weeks. Finally got a few days off and managed to indulge and enjoy them.

On my first day off I basically subsisted on a single meal. I woke up late...like, 1PM late...and I indulged in instant noodles. We came into a bunch of veggies lately so I managed to load up my ramen with a bunch of stuff--fishball, beef-ball, kabocha, cauliflower, a few handfuls of frozen veggies, etc. It was delicious. That day was also a slow day for me--no plans to go out or anything so I stayed at home and binged shows...something I haven't done in a very long time ^^ Since I wasn't exactly doing anything all day, I ended up not really being hungry for the rest of the day. Seriously, it was 1AM when I realized that I had gone the whole day without another meal. I polished off the last two handfuls of a bag of chips at some point and called it a day.

I woke up around 10AM the next day (another day off) and lounged around my room for a bit, reading stuff, watching more shows, and just enjoying my free time. There was a nagging cramping feeling in my stomach all morning and eventually I realized it for what it was...it was kind of like hunger in stasis. Like...the feeling you get just before your stomach growls out of hunger...that clenching feeling? Yeah...it was that...like, two and a half solid hours of just that with no growls or progress or anything. I guess my guts were frozen/asleep like that and the fact that I was lounging around tricked my body into thinking we were still asleep or something. The cramping, hollow feeling got more and more intense when I got up and walked to the washroom to brush my teeth and all. I ended up rubbing my tummy as I brushed my teeth because the slowly-awakening hunger pang was really uncomfortable, borderline painful.

It was around noon when I finally decided to stop lounging around and go do something. I got take-out with someone, two noodle combos and a rice combo. Apparently, my meal-partner has a big appetite and was expecting that the noodles wouldn't be enough to fill them up. They were right. Normally, the bowl of noodles would have been enough to get me to 'full' but thanks to the fact that my last actual meal was about 24 hours ago I managed to eat maybe 1/4th of the rice combo (a couple of spoonfuls of rice and two or three pieces of the meat that came with it).

I got home and went back to lounging around. My stomach was comfortably full. I decided to have a bit of fun with it. I started chugging a waterbottle I had on-hand and enjoyed the gripes and grumbles from my full, waterlogged gut. Ugh...it was so gurgle-y--it was amazing. I used a tool to poke around my navel a bit, nudging deep against my intestines and causing more gurgles. I could feel every grumble ripple through my intestines. It was glorious and it kept going. My guts basically started gurgling on-command whenever I prodded deep in my navel with the tool and especially when I twisted the thing, getting my navel all wound up around the thing. I guess I was a little rough with it. Eventually, my stomach started to hurt. I guess I had poked too much or too hard but I felt this sharp cramping pain radiating from my navel, like something was being pulled (usually happens when I go too far with the navel stuff). All in all, a perfect tummy session. Would have been even cooler if I had a partner there to mess with my guts rather than have me do it myself. I wonder if another party would have been rougher with my navel than I was. Would they have been able to draw more gurgles out of my guts than I did?

#tummy kink #navel kink #tummy ache #hunger kink

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kpop---scenarios · 4 years

Text

Last Time

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I am so into this I may have to do more

When you told Draco that the last time really was the last time, you wanted to mean it, you really did but there was just something about him that kept dragging you back in. Maybe it was that he didn't care about anything, maybe it was that he was a Slytherin, or maybe it was that you had always had a thing for bad boys and you'd never met anyone like Draco Malfoy.

Sure, your life would probably be different had you met him first, had you been with him first but you didn't. Instead you had met Harry first and fallen for him, and then Draco. You couldn't find it in your heart to end things with Harry, he was sweet and kind, he made you feel safe and loved. He never fucked you, he always made love to you, which sometimes was exactly what you needed. But sometimes you needed to be fucked, and that's how Draco came into play. You had overheard a girl talking about the night she spent with Draco. How he was into some kinky things, and he wasn't gentle. That's what you needed, And despite talking to Harry and telling him that he needed to be rougher, things never changed. So, one night you had been secretly drinking after everyone was supposed to be in their corridors, going to bed. You wandered around as everyone slept and had found yourself somehow in Slytherin's corridors, and Draco walking the halls.

"Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?" He asks, looking around.

"I've heard some things about you." You slur.

"Oh?" He asks, crossing his arms. "Like what?"

"You like to give it rough." You whisper.

"I do." He whispers back.

"I need it rough, Draco." You plead.

"Aren't you with Potter?" He asks.

"It can be our little secret." You whisper, putting your finger up to your mouth.

Draco walks towards you, making you stumble back against the wall. He places his hand beside your head, leaning in closely, you can feel his hot breath on your neck.

"If you still want this when you're sober, let me know." He whispers in your ear before pushing himself away from you and walking back to his room, leaving you with your heart racing and your pussy dripping.

Over the next few days you heavily debated on whether or not you wanted to take Draco up on the offer that you had previously put into his head. You absolutely were leaning towards yes, especially when you caught him staring at you or winking and biting his lip when you looked at him, or when his eyes grazed your body like he wanted to tear you apart like a piece of meat.

You wanted it, oh god did you ever.

"Hey babe." You hear from behind you. Looking back you see a smiling Harry quickening his pace to catch up to you, sliding his arm around your shoulders as he walks with you.

"Hi." You murmur, thinking of how to get out of seeing him tonight.

"We're still going to the dance tonight?" He asks.

Shit you forgot about that.

"I'm not feeling well today." You say, making it seem like you were ill. "I think i'll skip it."

"Do you want me to stay with you?" He asks, pulling you in closer.

"That's okay. You go, have fun with Ron and Hermione." You smile, kissing him on the cheek before heading to your room, where you had to wait until everyone was at the dance.

A few hours later you found yourself taking a deep breath outside Draco's door. You had finally managed to sneak out of your room and into the Slytherin corridors without being caught.

Knock

You can hear the rustling inside his room. You had hoped he didn't go to the dance tonight and lucky for you, he didn't but Crabbe and Goyle did.

"Why aren't you at the dance?" You ask.

"I could ask you the same thing." You say, hands behind your back.

"What do you want?" He wonders.

"You." You answer.

You freeze, hearing voices coming closer to his room. Draco acts quickly, pulling you inside before closing the door and slamming you against it. Both your chests are heaving as you look at his lips and he looks at yours. Seconds later his lips latch onto yours while his arm slides around your back, pulling you in close as you kiss him back.

That was the first night you slept with Draco Malfoy, and that was months ago.

Since then you had tried to stop but every time you slept with Harry and had his gentle hands caress your body, you craved the hard, rough hands and mouth of Draco. You went days trying to get over him, but eventually you would cave and find yourself outside his door, desperate for the eye rolling, sheet clenching, back arching orgasm only he could give you.

Your mind wandered to Draco as you leaned against a wall in the hall, lost in your own world.

"Are you going to cum tonight?" You hear from beside you. Turning your head, Draco stands next you, acting like he's not talking to you.

"Depends." You say, looking away. "Are you going to make me cum tonight?" You ask.

"Meet me in the bathroom at 1am." He says, pushing himself off the wall and walking away.

You snuck out of your room, just before 1am, knowing exactly what bathroom Draco had been talking about.

When you arrived you sat yourself up on the abandoned counter and waited for Draco to arrive. The second he did, he walked towards you, opened your legs, placing himself in between and leaned in for a kiss. Jackson presses his lips to yours harshly. The kiss is passionate and needy right off the bat. Draco didn't hesitate to slip his tongue into your mouth, wrapping his hand around your waist, pulling you closer into him as you wrap your legs around his waist.

He slides his hand under your shirt, cupping your breast, pinching your nipple, rolling it in between his fingers before pulling your shirt up and over your head, discarding it on the floor.

You can feel Draco's hard cock through his pants as he bucks his hips. You unwrap your legs from him and slide off the counter. You get on your knees and tuck your thumbs into the waist of his pants, tugging them down, letting his large cock spring free, making your mouth water. The veins running along his large, thick cock make you want him to just shove it inside you.

Placing your hand on his shaft, you pump his cock a few times making him throw his head back as he lets out some quiet moans. You smirk as you open your mouth, taking in as much of him as you could at once, hollowing out your cheeks to take more.

"Fuck." He hisses, holding onto the counter. Draco begins slowly thrusting his hips before he grabs a chunk of your hair, shoving his cock down your throat, making you gag.

After a few thrusts he pulls himself from your mouth, forcing you to stand by pulling your hair up. He turns you around, forcefully bending you over the counter, laying you down on your stomach before spreading your legs.

Draco grips your hips tightly, fingertips digging in as he pushes his cock inside of you, stretching your pussy out. He's still for a moment, making you whimper, needing him to move.

He begins slowly pulling himself out of you before slamming back in, his arm still wrapped around your body, holding you closely.

Draco releases your body from his hand and wraps it around you, reaching down in between your legs to rub your clit, starting out gently. He then begins to fuck you faster, the tip of his cock hitting the right spot with every thrust. Just to tease you, he slows down his pace, pulling his cock out before slowly sliding it back inside, doing that a few times before harshly slamming it back in.

His hand goes with the rhythm of his thrusts, making your orgasm build and then stop, multiple times. Your clit throbs as much as your pussy, your release so close but far.

"Please Draco." You beg.

"What do you want?" He asks, thrusting hard.

"I need to cum. Fuck me harder and faster." You say, desperate for your release.

With a small chuckle escaping his lips, he pulls you in close, letting your hand go in between your thighs. He brings your body up, flush against his as he pounds his cock into you.

Your fingers rub your clit, your orgasm building quickly. "Oh fuck." You cry out, knowing you're going to cum soon.

"Your pussy feels so fucking good." Draco groans, his thrusts now becoming sloppy. "You gonna cum?" He growls. "Cum all over my cock".

With a loud moan, your orgasm hits, causing you to cry out as tingles coarse through your body.

Draco lets go of you, slamming you back down on the counter as he slams his cock in and out before quickly pulling you, pumping himself a few times before cumming on your bareback.

"Ahh fuck." He groans, milking himself of everything.

He pulls his pants up, and grabs some paper towel, cleaning yoh off before handing you your shirt.

"That was great." He chuckles.

"That was the last time." You say, looking him in the eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure it was." He chuckles, walking away, leaving you there knowing it definitely wasn't the last time.

#draco x oc #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #harry potter #harry potter smut #draco smut #draco fanfiction #draco x reader #tom felton #tom fanfic #malfoy #malfoy x reader #malfoy smut

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thefallenbibliophilequote · 3 years

Text

I Wish You Would

Loki x Reader

1989, chapter 7

"He drove past her street each night"

Summary: It's hard to find the one, but even if you do find him it's always going to be a daily struggle to make it work. Can you even make it work after he broke your heart? The answer to that is complicated, but it all started when you found each other again in the Stark Tower- and that's where our story begins.

Word count: 2,896

Warnings: angst, alcohol, poison, only a pinch of fluff. Not in that particular order.

A/N: this one has more Loki than the last. And... I'm sorry. Also, the timeline is important from the last chapter and forward, so keep it in your mind.

A/N2: @chrissquares made me these awesome dividers! And dear @nacho-bucky beta read this for me!

No one is allowed to repost my writing or steal or copy my work! Reblog on tumblr is fine.

Series masterlist

Song on Spotify and YouTube

"We won't be able to control the dwarves for long, we need to calm them down soon or they will attack."

"Your Highness, we need a plan of attack to keep them from breaching through their borders, some shield spell or-" A different councilman piped up.

"No, what we need is to keep peace. We need a negotiator to help maintain order. No more endless war, we can solve it without offence." The Allfather looked at his counsel until his eyes fell on his son who sat quietly throughout the whole meeting. "Loki, I want you to go and calm the situation down, solve it peacefully."

Loki looked up at his father, his stern gaze left no place to argue.

"Yes father." Loki got up after that, getting ready for the long day ahead of him. But before he could go his father's voice stopped him.

"I expect that when you'll be back you will make arrangements to make up with Lady Iyllir for your past behaviour."

"My first priority now is with the negotiation I need to handle." With a thin smile Loki walked away from his father, now with newfound determination to leave Asgard soon.

He stayed there longer than he wanted to. Apparently their species didn't sleep as often as Asgardians do. When he finally got back to the palace, he teleported right into his room and got in bed; he was never more grateful for his powers than now. Through all of his tiredness though, the moment his head hit the pillow you plagued his mind and sleep faded away from him as you pulled him closer into your dangerous clutches.

He felt as if he was the same heartbroken guy he was before everything happened. She took over his dreams after he let her go, and if he was being honest he let her. He'd imagine her next to him, holding his shattered heart together just enough for him to be able to go to sleep, keeping it as close together as she could until the morning came and she was no longer there and the pieces were all scrambled again. He woke up and remembered that you weren't next to him, and no matter how much he'll conjure her up he knew she won't be you. A face identical to yours still doesn't feel like you.

You were so much more than just a figure to him, he could conjure her up and she would be just like you with the same smile and eyes but beyond that she was nothing but empty. She wasn't you because you had a soul that he could feel just by being close to you, and you had emotions behind those brilliant eyes and sincerity behind the smile. You were so much more than a trick of the eye.

He couldn't even touch her.

Last time, after he left you he was ruined, knowing that he had no way to undo what he did- he had no way back, especially after the fall. But now he knew that even if he would go back and knock on your door- you won't let him in. He knew he would only shatter the peace you could have had if he hadn't barged into your life and wrecked you all over again. He was a selfish man but you wouldn't let him in your door again. Loki wasn't dumb by any means, he knew that you meant what you said and he couldn't blame you.

Sleep decided to claim him, but he could only hope you won't be there too haunting his dreams.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Loki voiced out his doubts as you picked your head out of the blanket fort the two of you spent the afternoon making only to shake your head at him.

"Yes, it is like the best thing ever," were mortals so destructive that they enjoyed lacking their needed sleep time? He was certain midgardians needed more sleep than him and it was rather crucial for them. "I cannot believe you've never had a movie marathon!"

"I don't see the point of sitting in front of your screen for many hours without any break, we could just as easily watch one and on another occasion the other. Why the rush to do things we can just do another time?"

"Time is short, and you have to live in the moment. There is nothing wrong with spending just one day as if you're running out of time with someone, actually that is something endearing in a way." He watched as you got lost in thought before your eyes focused on his again and he knew you won't let him deny this. So the god of mischief entered the warm steady fort you created, well it wasn't actually that steady but you didn't need to know the little magic he used on it.

He had to admit that the little nest the two of you built was quite charming, it was odd how such a delicate thing could give one the feeling of safety.

"Come on we are starting the first movie!"

"You still haven't told me, who is this Potter?" he picked up the disc and examined its packaging.

"I love it when you say that with your accent! And he is a wizard!" you giggled at him and put a bowl of popcorn in between the two of you as the movie started playing.

"Are you trying to tell me that this guy is doing magic?" It was preposterous to know that this is how humans perceive magic. He wished he could show you what real magic is like, maybe one day he will.

"I know! it's amazing! I love Sci-fi so much." The movie kept playing on with him making snarky comments at the characters and with you giggling and defending the movie.

The movies went on one after the other and he might have gotten emotional over some scenes, not that he showed it of course.

It was in the fifth movie that he felt a soft weight on his shoulder and when he looked to the side he saw you laying your head on him with your eyes closed. At this point the snacks were pushed aside and you had gotten closer to him and now you fell asleep on him, your bodies touching and he doesn't know why but he held his breath then. You let yourself to be in such a vulnerable state with him, in this makeshift fort, and his body reacted to it more than it should have. With each loud fast beat of his heart realization fell upon him. He didn't know what it was just yet, but he understood it.

It was odd, the feeling he got, he had never been this enchanted with someone before- let alone a human. You seemed to have some sort of effect on him that he couldn't shake off even when you weren't around him. You caused these blooming feelings to erupt inside of him and it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. And all you did was fall asleep with your head on his shoulder. The god of mischief was falling in love.

•

It was 1am and you might have just stolen Tony's car alongside some expensive bottles he had locked away.

You just had to get out of there, the thoughts got too loud and the dreams got more vivid, so you knew exactly where you needed to go to get your mind straight and maybe drink some wine.

No one knew about the apartment that you kept even after moving into the Tower. The only other person that knew about it was Tony, who bought it and kept it there just for you, clear of annoying neighbours in a silent neighborhood.

Getting into the apartment you shivered at the cold, so you turned on the AC and popped open the first bottle of wine.

So you sat there with the bitter sweet wine scenting the room. So far you had no luck of forgetting the young prince, his taste and smell easily overpowered the alcohol if you focused on them strongly enough.

You almost did.

But with each sip you got sent back into a kaleidoscope of memories. Headlights pass the window pane and sent you aware to a far memory.

"Why are you dressed up like that?" Loki raised an eyebrow at you when he took a sit at the dining room table and you put a drink in front of him. He grew quite fond of midgardian drinks, they were much better than mead. You closed the window and the curtain, the bright light outside was blinding you. It was too early in the morning for that.

"Like what?" you stretched your arms and hem of your night shirt went up a bit and revealed skin that Loki tried not to look at.

"Still in your sleep wear."

"It's morning and I'm not going anywhere." You shrugged him off and sat down in front of him.

"Are you not going to change because I'm here?" he kept his eyes on your face.

"No, I'm comfortable." You shrugged him off again and began to eat your toast. Your answer however lingered in the back of your head.

"Alright," he answered and took a sip. "I'm just saying that it's not fitting for a lady to be dressed like this."

He knew how much you hated being called that. His smirk was hidden by his cup of coffee.

"You son of a bitch… don't call me that."

"Not call you what, my lady?" you pointed your fork at him and he couldn't help but think how adorable you look like this.

"Call me Lady one more time and I'll show you exactly how not lady-like I am."

"Okay, fine!" he watched as you brought your cup to your lips only to realize that you drank all of your tea. "Come on, I'll make you another cup of tea as an apology."

You let him take your empty cup with a satisfied smile. When he was in the kitchen you wandered to the question he asked and the immediate answer that you gave him. It took you a second to get out of your thoughts when you realized something.

"Oh wait Loki you don't know how I make my-" you got up to the kitchen only to open the door right to Loki who just gave you the tea he just made. He moved past you and sat at the table.

You hesitantly took a sip, only to sigh in content- it was perfect.

"You know how I like my tea." It was a statement but you were still fazed by that fact as you sat down. His reply was short.

"Well of course I do."

It was odd how such a simple thing as that could make your heart flutter with a feeling that you haven't felt in a long while but you knew exactly what it was.

•

Three months ago in Asgard.

Asgard looked beautiful in the morning. Loki stood in his room next to his window which overlooked the garden. His mind wasn't in Asgard though, and he had a decision to make, one that was waiting for him the moment he steps out of that door.

He knew that it's been almost a month since he left you and you told him to never come back. He had to find a way to move on even if he couldn't. He'd call it a coincidence if it weren't just unfortunate luck.

He was well aware of his options and the fact that there were none, and while he'd rather perish in his own misery a part of him still knew that he would have to take the other choice.

You'd never take him back, not after what happened when the two of you were well aware that the heartbreak would come, not now that you knew who he is.

Without letting himself think any further Loki went out of his room and descended a floor down until he stood outside of the large doors. He gently knocked on them. Who knew, maybe this will someday give him some twisted peace?

The door opened and there she stood in a flowery gown, Lady Iyllir.

"My lady, I've come here to apologize for my past behaviour. I would very much like it if we could resume the plan for our marriage."

•

You threw one bottle of wine aside, it was 2am but you couldn't even drink, you couldn't do anything. You just wished that he would come back and be here. He could always read your mind even when he assured you that he wasn't actually reading your mind.

"Please Loki, I miss you too much to be mad anymore, just come back."

You knew deep inside you that you'll never be clean of him; you'll never forget him for as long as you'll live. If you could, you'd rush all the way to Asgard for him, throwing away your stupid pride.

Maybe he will knock on the door, maybe he is on his way. You humored yourself but the hope was still there.

Yes you told him to leave but what you really wanted was for him to be there on the other side of the door screaming "I'm in love with you" or maybe he'll wait there in the pouring rain and throw pebbles at your window.

How did the god of lies not see it? Why couldn't he see that when you told him to leave you wanted him to chase after you and fight for you?

"I need you Loki, I do."

Then there was a knock on your door, you were sure you imagined it. But it was real and a smile took over your face when you went towards the door. He heard you.

Everything you needed was right there on the other side of the door, with his face and his beautiful blue eyes, and even with the conversations with the little white lies.

You rushed to open the door after he knocked on it again.

But he didn't have his blue eyes.

"Mike?" you really thought that Loki would show up for you. Your smile fell.

"You seemed off today darling," he walked past you into the living room. "I thought you might want some company."

In your state of disappointment you shook yourself out of it and closed the door. You had a boyfriend, you didn't have Loki. You won't have Loki.

"Oh, thank you. That is very thoughtful of you." He put some bags of food and drinks on the counter and came back to you. He wrapped you up in a hug. He may not be Loki, but you needed a hug right now so you held onto him.

"I know that as an Avenger it must be rough, with the missions and the constant danger," he brought you to sit on the couch with him. "I understand that it could get hard, but I'm proud of you for doing that and I want you to know that I am here for you."

He was saying everything you needed to hear, and so you nodded into his chest. Loki was wild and crazy but here you have a guy who is steady and stable and your heart can't seem to listen to logic.

At least he's here.

"I'll get us something to drink and then we can talk about it if you want, okay?" you nodded at him again as he got up and went to the kitchen.

You straightened your shirt until he got back with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Oh, I already have wine right there-" you looked back at the half bottle that was left and cringed.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll like this one. Plus this one is brand new." He tried to joke but you wished he hadn't seen how much you drank already. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to drink more but you needed it.

You took the glass with the red liquid. Testing it, you shook it in the glass and sent the burning red liquid down your throat. It was pretty good, you had to admit. It had an unusual taste to it that you couldn't quite figure out.

"It's from Europe." He smiled and you smiled back lightly.

You talked to him and didn't really care that you finished your glass of wine soon and he poured you another one.

The alcohol must have started to get to you, you felt a little spacey, the smell of the alcohol made you feel weird.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" he laughed at you a bit and put his glass on the table.

"I asked you if you're okay, do you feel better now?" it was starting to get a bit hot in the room, you forgot to turn off the AC, you looked around for the remote.

"Yeah I'm just- didn't you drink from your wine?" you looked at the full glass on the table. Your head was starting to hurt and you picked up the glass, the weird smell came back to you and the world felt blurry around you.

"No, I'm afraid I am not here to drink."

•

Tags: @ayybtch @buckys-other-punk @chaoticpete @madcrazy50 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @the-departed-potato @rogerrhqpsody @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @percabethismyotp14

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dabiboy · 4 years

Text

Another self-indulgent piece I came with last night at 1am.

Author’s note: Angst, kinda fluff. The characters here are Dabi, Natsuo, Rei and y/n. And a small originial one, he. Also, let me know if you’d like a part two!

Rencounter [Part 1?]

There was blood all over the places, heroes saving the ones who were waiting for hope under pieces of concrete, missing kids looking or their parents, total mayhem. But that was not it, as if that chaos was not enough, a broken human being was broadcasting live his story, telling the world that him, Touya Todoroki, better known as Dabi was Endeavor's first son, abused and tortured, used as an object for his own ego and selfishness. A kid tossed aside who ended up being a monster because of his father's sins.

You didn't even know when it happened, but the fight got even bigger, backups arrive and a few bullets got into Dabi's body in an attempt knocking him down, but his adrenaline and his pain were keeping him awake, taking pain. He had suffered more than that. Another building collapsed, filling the surroundings with dust and blinding the witnesses. You ran over Dabi, who was now laying on the floor because of the blood loss and probably because of the strong emotions he was having. You could see it among the dusty space, Endeavor walking towards you. He looked defeated, wounded as if he had committed the worst of crimes, and in fact, he did.

''Take him away from here'' he said.

He didn't know you, but he quickly assumed what he meant to you by the way you were begging him to open his eyes.

After making Dabi stand back on his feet, barely awake you held him by his waist and held his writs as his arm was across your neck. You dragged him into an alley, all alone and away from everyone's sight. An old friend owned you a favor, and better said, this 'friend' had said you could call him anytime, for anything, so you had to call him immediately once you felt trapped and almost in despair without knowing what to do or where to go.

...........................................

''Thank you, Hao'' you said from the back seat to the old man driving in the middle of the night.

''Don't thank me. You're my sunflower's grandaughter, how could I leave you there?'' He said with a relaxed smile, despite having a wounded villain in the backseat, and you smile at the nickname.

''I would always be thankful for this, you can't stop me'' You laughed weakly. ''Are you sure is it safe there?''

''It is'' He spoke slowly ''There are a few people in the village, and they know me too so, they shouldn't bother you. Besides, the house is quite far from the village so maybe no one will know you're there''

''You can... You can leave me a few steps away. I know it is hard for you to be there'' you looked out the window, caressing Dabi's hair.

''Ah, don't worry about it little cherry. Good memories are good to be remembered, and in that house, your grandmother and I were happier than anyone. Time was little but wise.''

You felt a tear running down your cheek and you couldn't tell if it was because of Hao's words or because of the wounded and deplorable Dabi resting in your lap, whining when the car went over a bump. Hao understood you better than anyone, he was... The only person you could trust this hiding and help. A long time ago, he was your grandmother's lover, a secret relationship that no one knew of. She decided to leave her husband and ran away with Hao, a young thief at that time, a man who worked for the ones that paid, a man who did things that not even the wind knows about. A man who loved your grandmother despite his actions. In the end, faith played its part and took them away from each other, but their love was the greatest you've heard of, and the relationship you had with Dabi was pretty similar. As a child, you couldn't comprehend why your blood grandparent didn't like him, and you could understand it when you were older, when your grandmother told you to find a love like that one on her lasts minutes of life. You could swear your grandmother was there, smiling with compassion as she looked at you, telling you to be brave and stay by his side. Just as she did with Hao.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you couldn't notice when you arrived, but there you were. An old and feudal looking house in the middle of the countryside, and you could see the small lights from the village a few miles away. Hao helped to take Dabi out and get him inside the house.

As you set the tatami on the floor, the old man light up the fireplace and left you a bowl of warm water and some towels.

''I'll be in the village if you need anything'' He said standing up.

''Thank you, again. As soon as all of this chaos is over I'll make you some dumplings'' you said giving him a tired but honest smile.

''I don't think they'll be as good as the ones your grandmother used to make, but I'll give them a try'' Hao laughed and patted your shoulder. ''Be sure of remembering him that you love him. A man like him needs to remember that''

Those were the lasts words he said before leaving the house. You heard the car engine start again as the sound vanished faster.

You get rid of Dabi's clothes, leaving him only in his underwear and covered with a blanket until mid torso. His body was wounded, there was dry blood around the staples and you were sure one was infected, was it gonna be his end? You could only wait. You hand washed his clothes and set them next to the fireplace. Using the towels and a bit more clean warm water, you washed his body softly, his face, his arms. He looked so different with his eyes closed and a calm expression on his face. Once you were done, you laid by his side, supporting your body weight on your shoulder so you could look at him and wondered how he would look like without his scars, just curiosity though, because you loved him. Scars and all. And then, another painful yet beautiful moment came to your head.

''Stop looking. You fucking weirdo'' Dabi said with his eyes closed, a hand behind his head.

''I'm not looking'' You lied, laughing and pressing a kiss on his cheek making him open your eyes and give you a look.

''Besides a weirdo, you're a terrible liar'' He lifted an eyebrow and smiled at you.

''Well, sorry. I can't help looking at the handsome naked bastard by my side.'' You kept your smile and kissed him again but he scoffed.

''Bastard yes, but I'm far from being handsome dollface. I look like a fucking puzzle, made out of different parts'' He laughed, but you knew he meant every word.

''Listen here, you jerk'' You said straddling his hips ''I like you. Every part of you. The scars around your eyes'' You pressed a soft kiss on the burnt skin ''Your jaw, and mouth,'' again, you pressed kisses along his jaw and a chaste kiss on his lip ''Your neck,'' repeating the actions, you got to his chest ''This I love too'' you kissed his scarred chest, longer than the other kisses ''I don't care how you look like. Your scars? They're a reminder of how strong you are, of how many shits you were able to take. And here you are. Alive, with me'' You caressed his cheek with your hand, and he was at a loss for words.

Pulling you from your nape, he crashed his lips on yours. It was a soft yet deep kiss, and you could feel everything that he wanted to say to you. I love you, I fucking love you.

Knock knock.

The sound took you out of your thoughts and you were back in the old house, Dabi still sleeping, but now? He was looking a bit more uncomfortable. He was sweating, his breathing was more erratic, he looked like he had a fever and maybe the infection he had was causing problems.

You stood up and walked to the door, was it that Hao forgot something? You were expecting to see him, but when you opened the main door your jaw draw and your eyes got wider.

''W-what... What are you- How are you here?'' You asked in disbelief.

''We,'' Natsuo took a deep breath, he looked as if he had been running ''We followed you. But the taxi driver left us quite far from here because he said the road was too lonely,'' He stopped again and took a deep breath ''We just assume you were here and not in the village''

''Please, where is he'' Rei, holding his hand on his thighs and trying to catch her breath said ''I need to see him''

You weren't sure about what to say, Dabi exposed Endeavor earlier and maybe the hero society was about to end, and they were there. Wanting to see the most wanted criminal. Or should I say, their son and brother.

They walked in as you closed the door behind you and guide them to where Dabi was laying. Natsuo stopped right in his tracks, breath caught in his throat as his eyes filled with tears at the sight of his older brother. Rei, on the other hand, looked calmer but she was processing everything. The son she thought was dead was there, breathing.

They both walked and sat on the floor next to him as you sat on the other side. Rei took his hand as a tear escaped from her eyes and Natsuo layed a hand on her shoulder.

''Is he... Is he ok?'' She asked you shyly.

''I don't know, he's been sweating and... And I don't know what to do, he has lost a lot of blood and even though I took it off, it looks as if one of the staples got infected''

''Good thing I came prepared'' Natsuo let out a sad smile, grabbing his bag. Right, he worked in the medical field so he knew what to do.

As he cleaned and disinfected the red area, Rei was still looking at him. And the expressionless face she had in the begging was now one full of sadness, pain, and remorse. You and Natsuo exchanged a few words, it was not the best way of meeting each other but there you were. When he was done, he sat back next to his mother, both of them looking at the body resting on the tatami. It was hard, for both of them. Dabi looked unrecognizable, the only familiar trait was his hair. Now white, after washing it in front of Endeavor. His eyes were familiar too, but those turquoise eyes were closed. Rei felt filled with guilt, she couldn't save him and now he was a wanted villain, a man that had lost everything. Her son was there but at the same time, it was not. Natsuo felt that way too, and he remembered every time Dabi told him he wanted to disappear, all the times that he questioned his existence, and he wanted nothing more than to apologize and to ask him a lot of questions. It was his big brother after all. And you? You wanted to kiss him, to tell him how much you love him, to make him remember that he was not alone, that he had you by his side. After a few minutes of long silence, Dabi's voice made you all looked in awe.

''Please... Please just...'' His voiced crack and he furrowed his eyebrows, he was having a nightmare ''Just make it stop,'' the sweat was more evident as he spoke, his heartbeat going faster ''I can't take it anymore, it hurts, it fucking hurts'' His voice was stronger in the last sentence, and Rei and Natsuo had no clue on what to do.

''Dabi?'' You called his name, hand on his hair.

''I'll train harder tomorrow, dad'' He hissed, it was as if he was feeling everything he felt back then ''Just let me go with mom today, please'' It was the first time you heard such words, such vulnerability. And your heart was breaking more and more ''I'll be a hero but give me time'' He hissed again, a cracking sound leaving his throat ''But please make it stop'' this time his voice was low, a rare high pitch resembling pain ''It's hurting me''

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, and the two other Todoroki's were looking like you too. You were all broken in front of such words, knowing all the pain that Endeavor made him go through when he was just a child.

''Mom...'' He called out and Rei opened his eyes and got closer to him ''Help me'' Dabi's eyes were still closed and he had a painful furrowed expression ''Make this stop, I beg you'' Rei put a hand over her mouth, controlling her sobs.

''Dabi, hey. Wake up, c'mon'' You said, leaving various kisses on his forehead. ''You're here, with me. It is me, y/n'' you said again, and you moved in such way his head was now on your thigh, as you spoke against his forehead. He opened his eyes, and the two other white-haired surprise guests were even more in shock when they saw the color of his eyes. Same as Enji, same as Shoto.

''Y/n?'' He said weakly, smiling tiredly when he recognized you and only you in his deplorable and wounded state ''You're still here''

''Of course, I'm here... I'm not leaving you'' You whispered, and noticed how his eyes moved towards Natsuo, and Rei.

''Did I fucking die already?'' His voice was raspy and he coughed, closing his eyes again.

''Let's give them some space, mom. We will come back when he's awake'' Natsuo told to her mother, trying to ease her crying as he stood up and walked out of the room, giving you a look that said take care of him, we'll be here when he's better.

''Y/n'' Dabi called, making you look at him again

''Yes?'' You said, still playing with his white locks, some of them still looked a bit grey because of the black hair dye he used.

''Don't let my father come near me, it still hurts'' He was having delirious again, and you noticed when his eyes looked disoriented.

''I won't... It is just you and me, ok? I won't leave your side, I promise''

He gave you one last look before closing his eyes one more time, the medicaments Natsuo gave him were working, and the sweat was becoming less and less. He was going to be better by the morning, now, the real question was... How was he going to react with his mother and his brother there? You prayed it didn't affect any of them, but the truth was that it was going to be impossible to control their emotions, after all... They still shared blood, and the two of them? There were just two more victims of a man's sins, of a past that still haunts them. However, as long as you were by Dabi's side, you were going to hold his hand just as you were doing now, because there was no way in hell you were going to leave him. Not a chance, even if the things morning next were going to be complicated, you were going to be there for him. With him.

With Dabi, or Touya. It doesn't matter. He was the man you loved, and despite the hardness of things you were going to be there.

#bnha+dabi #dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #boku no hero academia #dabi headcanons #dabi imagine #mha dabi

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moon-goddess-posts · 3 years

Text

Hello everyone! This is my first fanfiction and I decided to write kaeya first because I just love him sm 😭😭😭😭 anyway hope you guys enjoy! Zhongli is up next. I'm also new to Tumblr so idk how this works LMFAO

Kaeya x Gn reader

Fluff, kaeya is weird but its ok cause he warms up to you, didn't proof read this cause it was 1am

You were walking around the streets of mondstadt, you always loved the night and decided to come out for some fresh air. Lost in thought, you were reflecting on your first moments here and how the handsome calvary captain gave you a tour of the city. You were an adventurer from Fontaine seeking to do research on all the 7 regions. Mondstadt was the first region on your list. You've heard most of it from stories on barbatos and how he saved mondstadt, but you'd love to meet the people and all the certain flowers that were around. You finally arrived at the front gate and the guards gave you a warm welcome. The city air was fresh and everything had a carefree warm feel to it. "This truly is the city of freedom" you thought to yourself and smiled. Having everything written down on your notebook, you decided to try out the foods that were common here. "What can I get for you today?" The women spoke as you came up to the counter. You took out your notebook and chose a dish. "I'll take one chicken mushroom skewer please, ah would I also ask for your name if you don't mind?" You gave a friendly smile. "My name is Sara, worker at Good Hunter! Your food will be right up. I see you arent around here." "Nice to meet you Sara, im actually traveling the 7 regions for my art pieces and mondstadt just happened to be my first one. I would love to know some tourist attractions around here, would you happen to know a guide?" It was nice to see a conversation going well especially since you were never really the best at conversations. But you wanted to hurry up because your social battery was draining fast. "Id love to be your guide" and unfamiliar voice came to the right and you shot your head to that direction. His appearance was definitely different from the rest of the citizens but looked really attractive either way. He was leaning against the booth almost giving off an intimidating nature underneath the layers of charming. "Really? That would be great, thank you so much! And uhm your name is...?" Depsite the oddness you got from him, you did your best to continue the conversation as normally as possible. "Kaeya, Knights of Favionus, happy to be your guide dear" his sudden pet name made you flitch but you pushed it off "So where are we going first dear calvary captain" you gave him a teasing remark as you smirked. He chuckled "well obviously I wouldn't be a good tour guide if I didn't show you the Barbatos statute first." "Ah of course haha" you gave him a nervous chuckle. "Is there any other reason you decided to come here other than to just "explore"" You thought he ease dropped on your conversation, and even so he still didn't find you that trust worthy. "Well I'm a pretty well known artist where I'm from, but besides just coming here to make art I also decided to write a few poems for each region. If you'd want I can show you my works" you smiled happily and his cold attitude started to fade just a bit. "You can show me once we get to the next place, feel free to draw me then too ♡" it wasn't the best first impression but at least he didn't feel as hostile anymore. You and Kaeya finally made it to the statue and it was more beautiful in person than your thoughts could ever imagine. Ideas started to flow through your brain on how to paint it. "Wow its so...." you were at a lost for words. "Breathtaking isn't it?" Kaeya finished your sentence and you flahsed him a small smile and nod. "Yeah it is, ill be sure to mark it down as the first place to paint. Maybe if you'd like, you can give it to the Acting Grandmaster as a token of my thanks for having me here" "Such a kind hearted soul arent you? I'll be sure to inform her." Kaeya patted your head and walked off, assuming he was leading you to the second destination, you started to follow him. "You should stop by the tavern Cats Tail sometime tonight, I can tell you more about this place and if you'd like, more about me," You saw this as an opportunity for more research on the area, and maybe get to know Kaeya a bit more, he truly was an interesting person, so you

accepted. "I'll be sure to make it around 18:00 or 19:00!" The next destination included a beautiful tree, lake, and another small statue of barbatos. You thought it was truly magnificent, especially how the sun hit the leaves all so perfectly giving it a warm glow. "This place is Windrise. Its often associated with love and is one of the most well know spot for dates." He winked at you and you looked away, not really sure what to do. "Is that so? I can see why. Its very beautiful." You did your best not to stutter from how flirty he was being. "This statue here is for offerings. You find anemoculous and you offer them to the statues. In return, you get a gift from the God." "Oh! We have on of those where I'm from as well, but its a different person." You weren't really sure why you wouldn't tell him where you were from, maybe it was because he was super analytical, or the whole predator with its prey vibe he got going on. "There are 7 types of statues that represent the 7 archons, would it be ok if you'd tell me where you're from? I'm just so interested in you." He gave a flirty smirk and you couldn't help but blush a little bit. "Uhm I'm from Fontaine, if you couldn't tell by the clothes. Its quite similar to Mondstadt, but I find it here to be more peaceful and calming than there." "Fontaine huh? I've heard people live the luxury over there. Very formal." He laughed a bit, part of him was right but it wasn't all that good as he was making it sound. "Hmm I guess you could say that, my parents were pretty well off but I can't say much about the rest." Your gaze drifted off to the forming sunset and you wondered if you should head back soon. "Ill head back, ill tell you more about the attractions tomorrow. Don't forget our date tonight deary..." He waved goodbye and walked off. "Deary.." you said to yourself, he flattered you very much but all of it seemed off in a way. You didn't think to much about it and decided to head back too. Your memories of your first interaction with Kaeya was over once you heard someone call your name. A familiar voice that was. "Y/n!" Kaeya called out. Automatically knowing who it was, you turned around to be greeted by a fine tall man dressed in blue tones "Hi Kaeya!" "I dont think its a good idea for a pretty lady like you to be walking out so late at night." He sounded amused but you were over it. "Oh cut it out captain, I know you were just swooning some girls a couple minutes ago." "Haha so what, you jealous?" "Dont flatter yourself, why would I be jealous anyway? Feelings like those are just a waste of time" you hated to admit that you were just a tiny bit jealous. You weren't sure how your crush on the calvary captain formed but it did and it didn't seem to be going away any time soon. Part of you thought maybe he already knew and he was just toying with you. Or maybe he was oblivious to it, thinking no one could love such a person like him. Either way, you still kept these feelings inside. "There's no shame in bearing emotion, love, its just our nature. And for a while I think you've been feeling pretty intense emotions about a certain someone..." His hand tilted your chin so you could face up to him. Shoot did he know? How was that possible? Was I that obvious? You thought to yourself, you weren't sure how you were going to get out of this situation. "I...I-its nothing that concerns of you" you broke eye contact but you knew kaeya wasn't letting up. "A lie to a lier is no stranger, but if you wish to keep your secrets then who am I to cross such a boundary." He back off from you and you started to breathe again. You wanted to tell him so bad. How much you loved and cared for him, how much you so desperately wanted to be there for him no matter what situation. You were willing to take risks for him if it meant that one day you would forever be together. But maybe you thought the image you had of him was wrong. You knew well enough his flirty nature was never sincere, and how he was hiding something much darker then you ever wanted to imagine. Even so, you still wanted your

thoughts of him to become right. So before he walked off again you mustered up the courage. "Kaeya wait! I, I do actually want to tell you something." He looked surprised now but intrigued. "Ever since we met, there was always something different about you. It always left me wanting to know more and over the years I did learn more about you. But then I started feeling these weird emotions and having thse weird thoughts like thinking maybe one day we could be together...or knowing the real you even. I know you say less than you lead on but I felt like I'd be willing to take extreme risks to know who you actually are. I feel so safe around you and I always smile at those good memories we have. I dont know if this is called love, I dont know fully what love is but you're special enough for me to be having these feelings." Thats it, you let everything out. Awaiting for rejection, you began to panic when the silence held for what seemed like an eternity, until you heard him walking toward you. He held your chin again and gave you a look you've never seen before. A mix of admiration, and happiness. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip and you tensed up. "Kaeya...." Before you could say anything else, he pulled you into a kiss. A new feeling started to arise and your whole body began to feel hot. Euphoria was coursing through your veins and you felt like you were going to fall without Kaeyas support. He was so warm, so intoxicating. You couldn't even feel where you were or he was, it all just became a bundle of sensations and happiness. You couldn't tell how long you both had kissed for but you were the first one to pull away as your breath began to shorten. "As much as a flirt as I am, I dont do well communicating my actual emotions. So id prefer to show them through my actions. I cant say it right now, but I hope that helped you realize what my answer is." He pulled you into a hug and you buried his face into his fur jacket. Already knowing his answer, you breathed a sigh of relief

#genshin impact kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #i love kaeya #kaeya x gn reader #kaeya genshin impact #kaey

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august-anon · 4 years

Text

Dance if You Can

This is based off a headcanon/bullet fic I did in the discord a few months ago that Pineapple prompted. Hope y’all like it!

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship(s): romo Prinxiety

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Virgil/Ler!Roman, brief Ler!Virgil/Lee!Roman

Word Count: 2973 words

Summary: Roman held the unofficial title of “Best Dancer” whenever their friend group played Just Dance. Virgil, the new addition, was about to show him how it’s done, but Roman was nothing if not competitive.

[ao3 link]

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In the end, it was Patton’s idea.

While he, Roman, and Logan had been friends for what felt like forever, Virgil was a very new addition to their little group of friends. They all wanted to make him feel welcome (and Roman may have had other motives to do so, as well, but he wasn’t going to admit it), and thus Patton suggested a sleepover to really make him feel like his place in the group was solidified.

Logan, knowing his house was usually the favorite for such get-togethers, asked his parents and, as always, received a resounding “yes” (they loved Logan’s friends and the fact that Logan had friends). They shipped all of Logan’s siblings off to their own sleepovers for the weekend and told the boys to be as loud as they wanted, and that they wouldn’t be interfering unless they were needed.

Yeah, Roman thought, Logan’s parents tried a little too hard to be cool, but he loved them to pieces, and he had no anxiety over whether or not they loved him back (or Patton, or their own son).

But the reason Logan’s house was the favorite was the video games.

Logan grew up in a family of gamers. His father was a huge gamer even before he and Logan’s mom had kids, and he must’ve just passed the gaming gene down to then. The family owned every gaming system Roman could even hope for, and more (seriously, who even had a gamecube, anymore? Roman had forgotten they even existed) and every game they could want for any one of them.

But the sleepover was in full swing and Virgil was starting to adjust to the setting, so Roman decided it was time to show off a little and declared a dance battle.

Logan rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but he set it up anyway. He slid the Just Dance disk into the old, wheezing Xbox 360, because he knew Roman preferred the Kinect version as opposed to having to hold a remote.

They all take turns competing against each other, making fools of themselves and laughing at their pitiful scores. Well, everyone except Roman and Virgil. Roman’s scores were absolutely killing it, and he was entirely not shy about showing off. Meanwhile, Virgil seemed to be content just laughing at them instead of participating.

Well, that just wouldn’t do. Luckily, Roman had a solution.

The thing about Virgil and his budding friendship (and Roman’s budding totally-not-a-crush) was that they were very good at riling each other up. Whether it be play arguments, convincing one or the other to do a dare, or pushing a challenge that the other was too competitive to say no to, they always managed to get under each other’s skin in just the perfect way.

And one playful and teasing argument led to another thing, and suddenly Virgil was standing from the sofa and tossing off his hoodie (his hoodie! He had never taken it off in front of them! Roman had assumed it was a comfort thing and hadn’t pushed, but now he had a body shape and oh no, as if he wasn’t already smitten enough--) so that he can finally dance-battle Roman.

And Roman goes into the battle cocky and smirking. Patton and Logan had never been able to beat him at dance games, no matter what system it was. He was the declared dance champ of their little group.

But Virgil was good.

He was matching Roman move for move, eyes locked on the screen intently. Roman’s competitive nature finally got him to stop being distracted by the sight of Virgil dancing next to him without his hoodie, but even then, he couldn’t beat him. In fact, as Virgil started to pick up the nuances of the game more and more, he actually beat Roman.

There was silence.

“Woah…” Patton whispered.

Roman whirled and pointed an accusing finger into Virgil’s chest. “Absolutely not! It was a fluke, I was going easy on you for your first time playing. I demand a rematch!”

Virgil smirked at him. “Do I smell a sore loser?”

“No! Just -- get into your section!”

Virgil didn’t seem convinced, but he did as Roman commanded. And they danced to another song, Roman putting his all into it, but Virgil was still beating him! And Roman hated to admit it, but he was a little frustrated about that fact.

He didn’t mean to be a sore loser! He just wanted to show off, impress Virgil. Maybe tease him a little (kindly, playfully, maybe slightly flirtatiously) about being the better dancer, but now Virgil was using Roman’s own game against him!

After their third dance, Roman stepped back, panting and maybe sweating a little. Virgil. Infuriatingly, only seemed a little out of breath.

“You haven’t won,” Roman added, once again pointing his accusing finger, “I just need a minute.” He turned to the sofa behind them. “Logan! Fight in my stead! Weaken the enemy!”

Logan stood with a sigh as Patton giggled, probably both knowing Roman wouldn’t let up until he listened. “Why don’t we just combine all our scores against Virgil’s combined scores?” He suggested.

Patton immediately nodded and Virgil shrugged. Roman thought about it for a moment. It was 1am, and they were all pretty wiped from school and the unexpected workout of Just Dance. So Roman agreed. Three against one was hardly fair, but he wanted to win, dangit!

So he stepped back and let Logan take a dance. Logan, as always, wasn’t amazing, but he did well enough to not fail. His movements were robotic and somewhat uncomfortable, seeing as the nerd didn’t really dance otherwise, but he did better than Patton.

Then Patton took a turn against the new rising champion. He, as always, did abysmally, but none of them ever minded. He was more in it for the fun of the game, rather than the competition, and would often purposefully mess up the move to make them all laugh and let loose, seeing as Logan was often one to get lost in the competition as well. His score barely made a dent in their efforts to beat Virgil, but no one really minded when he smiled that smile at them.

And then it was Roman’s turn, again. His scores were up to their usual best again, now that he’d taken a breather and cooled off, but Virgil’s scores were still beating his, by an unfairly large margin. In his frustration, Roman slipped out of his own area a little on accident and, on one of the more dramatic moves, accidentally slipped his hand against Virgil’s upper ribs/armpit area.

Virgil flinched away and Roman heard a quick intake of breath. Then, Virgil quickly readjusted himself and continued beating Roman at this stupid dancing game. It didn’t matter, though. Roman had his plan, now.

It was easy for Roman to recognize that reaction for what it was. He had siblings, Patton and Logan had siblings that were basically siblings to him, and Patton and Logan themselves were like brothers to Roman. None of them were strangers to tickle fights.

Roman fought down a smirk. Just yet another thing their little group would introduce him to, tonight.

It was Logan’s turn again, next, and Roman sat back for a few minutes before enacting his plan. He waited until the first chorus to strike, waiting until a dance move where their arms are high in the air. He quickly spidered his fingers up Virgil’s ribs and into his armpits.

Virgil squealed and messed up, jerking his arms down a couple beats too soon and not completing the move. He lost a few points, and he turned to glare at Roman as best he could while still dancing, keeping the moves in his peripheral so he could copy them.

“What?” Roman asked, far too innocently. “I’m just making the competition a little more interesting. Surely a little tickling won’t make you lose, will it?”

And Roman couldn’t quite tell through dimmed lights of the gaming room, but he could’ve sworn Virgil went a little pink in the face, at that. He turned back to the TV screen too fast for Roman to fully tell.

“Just adding a little challenge, Virge.” Roman practically purred in his ear.

Now that did it. Virgil was just as competitive as Roman and Logan were. Just like how Roman had gotten him to agree to the dance battle in the first place, Roman had roped him into another challenge easily.

Roman dismissed the thought that he could probably be challenged into things like this just as easily, as well.

“Please,” Virgil scoffed, somehow even still keeping up with the moves on screen. “Like a little t-ti-tickling is gonna make me lose, Princey.”

Roman grinned. His plan had worked perfectly so far. Now all he had to do was tickle Virgil bad enough for him to lose.

“Oh? You don’t mind, then?” Roman asked.

Virgil didn’t reply, he just kept on dancing. But even through the lighting, though, Roman could tell that those pale ears had gone bright red. Roman kept his place behind Virgil and moved with him to the dances (because it would be cheating to physically impede him with something other than tickling, and Roman wanted to win fairly.. Well, as fairly as he could, now).

Roman resumed his spidering, this time on Virgil’s ribs and sides, while moving to the dance with him. Virgil’s shoulders shook a little with suppressed laughter, but he still kept up with the dance pretty well. Unfairly well. Aside from little jerks and squirms that weren’t really exaggerated enough to affect his score, Virgil had no issues keeping up.

Roman moved down to his legs briefly in hopes of breaking him, squeezing his thighs and kneecaps. He even skittered his nails and fingers at the backs of Virgil’s knees, or, at least, as well as he could with Virgil’s skinny jeans in the way (which, Virgil still had quite the reaction even then, which Roman would have to experiment more with when those knees weren’t protected).

Virgil’s giggles came deep from his chest, barely audible over the game, and he was still trying his best to hold them in by pressing his lips together tightly. But he also almost kicked Roman multiple times, and almost toppled over, so Roman decided the legs were a little dangerous for now and moved back up.

Before he could start on Virgil’s upper body again, Logan’s dance finished and it was Patton’s turn to step up once more. Virgil was panting the whole time, as they switched spots and began to look for their next song. Roman’s not so cruel as to not give him a break between dances.

Since the new challenge started, Logan and Patton hadn’t said anything about it. That didn’t mean they weren’t clearly paying attention, though, shooting each other and Roman sly looks over the whole thing. Roman, frankly, was just happy they weren’t doing it where Virgil could see and decipher them.

He also kind of wanted to tell them to mind their own business, leave Roman’s weird flirting ritual alone, but there was no way he was saying that in front of Virgil. He didn’t want Virgil to know he was flirting, or know that Roman liked him. So Roman didn’t say anything. He just sent them both scathing glares before the next song started up.

And then the music started and Roman dove right in without warning or build-up. He squeezed up and down Virgil’s sides, then switched to kneading at his hips, then back to his sides and repeated the pattern. Virgil must have been pretty caught off-guard by the sudden attack, because he burst into loud laughter. But he still kept dancing.

Granted, his movements were far less smooth than before, and his laughter was starting to mess up some of his motions. He still did pretty well at not squirming, though, or stopping his dance to grab at Roman’s hands and defend himself.

But Roman was determined to win this, fair or not, now.

He reached around Virgil and claws into his stomach with both hands. Based on the way Virgil cried out and stumbled backward into Roman’s chest before catching himself and continuing trying to dance, Roman was pretty certain this was Virgil’s worst spot.

His laughter was the loudest sound any of them had ever heard Virgil make, and he was barely able to keep his eyes on the screen anymore. His dancing was, while nowhere near as bad as Patton, truly beginning to get terrible, now, and he was losing points fast.

Roman glanced up and realized with a pout that the song was coming to an end. He figured he might as well go out with a bang, whether or not he managed to win, even if he had no clue if this little trick he was about to pull would work.

Roman stuck a finger deep into Virgil’s bellybutton and scratched at the inner walls, wiggling deep into the little divot. Virgil actually screamed before falling into hysterical cackling and going completely limp as the song ended.

Roman, for his part, was not expecting Virgil to suddenly ragdoll. With him being unprepared to catch the extra weight, Virgil managed to drag them both to the ground, where they landed in a giggly heap of tangled limbs (giggles courtesy of Virgil).

And then they looked up and--

Virgil’s terrible score from that last round still managed to beat Patton’s.

A series of offended noises escaped from Roman’s vocal chords, and Virgil’s residual giggles turned into victorious laughter as he watched the screen flash in front of them. He started poking at Roman’s sides with a smug, open grin.

“I still won!” He all but crowed. “I still won, and you all lost! Take that, Roman!”

Roman jerked away from each ticklish little poke and he couldn’t stop himself from blushing. Virgil was tangled up with him, practically on top of him, and he was happy and flustered and yet he felt kind of like a sore loser at the same time.

So to save face, Roman growled, “I’ll show you… taking that!”

Virgil started to laugh at Roman’s terrible comeback, and he started to make some sassy comment about how it didn’t make sense, but Roman didn’t let him get that far. He shoved Virgil’s shirt up and blew raspberry after raspberry around Virgil’s sides and against his stomach.

Virgil was shrieking and cackling and yelling, trying desperately to escape the little knot they got themselves into, but Roman wasn’t letting him get away that easily. He tightly wrapped all his limbs around Virgil so there was no hope of escape.

(Unbeknownst to them, all other sound lost to Virgil’s shrieking cackles, Logan sighed heavily. He shared a knowing half-smile with Patton as they made their way out of the room to give the two pining idiots some privacy and went off to get ready for bed.)

Eventually, Virgil managed to get a hand free. He shoved it up under Roman’s arm before Roman had a chance to defend himself.

The raspberries stopped suddenly as Roman broke into shrieking cackles and tried to wrench himself away on instinct, leaving them both lying on the floor a few feet away from each other.

Virgil was panting and still giggling, but he gave Roman a true grin and said, “You’re an idiot, Roman Prince.”

Roman tried to put on a suave face and rolled back over toward Virgil, planting a hand on either side of his head against the floor to loom over him. “You have an adorable laugh,” he murmured.

Roman could just barely make out Virgil’s blush through the low light, but he relished in it. He leaned in close to whisper in Virgil’s ear.

“And don’t think I didn’t notice that you never protested or said ‘no,’” he purred.

Roman could feel Virgil’s face flaming against his own and smirked victoriously. He pulled back somewhat to let Virgil see.

“Oh yeah?” Virgil muttered, and shoved both hands up under Roman’s armpits without warning.

Roman’s arms immediately gave out from under him as they instinctively drew in to protect himself and he collapsed forward onto Virgil’s chest. Virgil used that to his advantage and wrapped himself around Roman like an octopus, trapping him in a tight hug and wrapping his legs around him to hold him still.

He blew raspberries on Roman’s neck, squeezed and scratched at his sides, forced his fingers past Roman’s arms and back into his armpits (clearly having figured out Roman’s worst spot rather quickly). And then he let Roman go. Roman stayed draped across Virgil’s chest, panting and still giggling, relaxed now that he was all tickled out.

“You never said ‘no,’ either,” Virgil whispered smugly.

Roman tried to quell his embarrassment, play it off by muttering, “Guess we match,” into Virgil’s shirt.

And then, Roman wasn’t entirely certain who started it, they were kissing, right there on the floor of the gaming room in Logan’s house.

And when they pulled back, Virgil gave him a teasing grin. “You sure have a real weird way of flirting, Ro.”

Roman sputtered for a moment, but he was smiling, too. “Shut up,” he eventually managed, “or I’ll tickle you again.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Maybe another time, I want to go to sleep.”

Roman leaned in, his grin taking on a mischievous edge. “Another time, huh?”

Virgil blushed again and shoved his face away, but he was chuckling along with Roman.

They pulled each other up and got ready for bed, joining the others in Logan’s room and cuddling until they fell asleep. And if someone wound up waking someone else with tickles… well, that was nobody’s business but their own.

#tickle fic #My writing #sanders sides tickling #lee!virgil #ler!roman #ticklish!virgil #briefly:#lee!roman #ler!virgil #ticklish!roman #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #prinxiety

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