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#and then i will fall asleep in her arms shortly after
iwas-princess · 1 year
Note
request: y/n and suna come back from an event that went on too long and she’s too tired to do her skincare and change so he does it for her? i love seeing the pinterest couple pics where the girl is sitting on the counter and he’s brushing her teeth and washing her face for her 💗💗 ty so much for your consideration 🥰
suna rintaro • love sick
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“wait just a second, princess.” suna instructed you, his right hand opening his car door as he spoke.
you halted your movements, pausing the action of unbuckling your seatbelt out of obedience for him. you already assumed what he was going to do, it was a unwritten rule of his every time the two of you went out.
your hands tuckered back into your lap as you watched him exit the car, catching him sending a wink your way as he shut the driver door, leaving you alone in the warm interior as he jogged around the front of the car, nearly slipping on ice ungracefully.
you let out a worried yelp at the slip of his foot, but was soon relieved when he grinned at you as a way of reassurance.
“jesus.” you mumbled to yourself, nearly having a heart attack just then.
rintaro walked it off like nothing had happened, smoothly recomposing himself for your view only. if it wasn’t for the freezing temperatures, you would have been able to notice the bright blush on his cheeks from embarrassment. but he played himself off well, as usual.
when he got to your side of the car, he hesitated slightly before opening the door. it would be cold out here for you, and you were exhausted, nearly spent already from socializing all night with friends. the sudden, harsh winter air would make you displeased and shivering for a few fleeting moments before entering the house, and suna just couldn’t have that.
he couldn’t have his precious princess be cold for any more than a millisecond or else he’s be very disappointed within himself.
deciding what his solution would be, he help up one finger at you through the window, signaling for you to be patient for one moment and he’d explain the change of plans later.
“what?” you questioned him, but he could only read your lips through the thick glass.
“one minute, baby. i’m going to go do something really quickly, hold on.” he halfheartedly explained.
you understood what you needed to in order to ask no more questions— both exhausted and lack of communication being a result.
your eyes followed him as he walked to the front door of your shared home, unlocking it and entering the house before shutting the door behind him after blowing you a gentle kiss for good measure, a way of telling you that everything is okay and he’ll be back shortly.
you sat back in the seat tiredly, the heated interior keeping you in a nice warm hug while you waited for him.
after only a few fleeting moments, you had forgotten about rintaro and found yourself falling into a soft slumber.
“c’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you inside.”
you awoke slightly when strong arms wrapped around your body, closely holding you tightly to his chest to secure and comfort you as he lifted you carefully out of the car, nudging the door closed with his knee once your were fully outside and safe in his arms.
“rinnie?” you sleepily mumbled, your eyes still closed gently as you called out to him.
he glanced down at you as he began to walk up the driveway, a small smile on his face at your sleepy state.
“yes, princess?”
“are we in bed, yet?”
he chuckled, causing his chest to rumble and you to whine at the vibrations against your body.
“not yet, special one. i’m carrying you inside— you fell asleep in the car.” he answered as he walked into the warm house, you wrapped in blanket in tow.
you stirred slightly at the change of lighting, the dark night sky in contrast to the warm yellow light the living room lamp provided becoming noticeable to you.
your eye were still shut, too tired to open them and welcome light in as you stayed bundled in your boyfriend’s arms.
“gonna have to set you on the couch, okay, pretty girl? i have to take our shoes off.” suna explained, his voice soft as he spoke at you, his eyes taking in your resting face.
you tiredly mumbled a barely coherent ‘yes’ in response, your cute cozy voice causing rintaro’s heart to swell and his stomach to warm up in pure happiness.
how he got to lucky with you was beyond him, but he wouldn’t trade you for the world. every little quirk of your’s had him tripping over his two feet in adoration, much to your disbelief. he didn’t care if you believed him though, because he could feel it in his bones the each centimeter of you was beautiful— especially now as you drool sleepyly in his arms.
he walked a few feet in front him, stopping to crouch down and ever so gently set you down on the velvet couch he had bought a few months prior as a anniversary present. your previous couch had been stained by your newly potty trained puppy and you were heartbroken over it, but as always, suna knew just what to do to cheer his princess up once more.
the feeling of a soft cushion cradling your head had you nuzzling into the feeling, rubbing your flushed cheek against a throw pillow that suna placed there for under your head before lying you down.
a few moments passed before you were scooped up carefully again, your favorite blanket wrapped cozyly around you, granting you infinite warmth.
“alright, princess. now it’s time for bed.” he sighed, relieved.
you were too tired to understand much, only the nickname kissing your ears like a song. but, you trusted that rintaro would do whatever was in your best interest no matter how sleepy you were.
he made his way to the bedroom, continuing to carry you effortlessly throughout the house as you slept peacefully in his arms. he often glanced down at you, finding a small proud smile on his face as he did so.
you were everything to him, nothing else mattered when he was around you. his only focus in those moments were taking the best care of you that he could and making sure you were safe and happy. all of which you seemed to be in this moment.
rintaro watched you thrive tonight as you spoke to all of your friends at the holiday party, and he couldn’t have been seen happier in the corner. his face held a grin all night, a proud smile he wore for everyone to see as they passed him by. the other guests probably assumed that he was one of two things: either high or just had the best sex of his life— but he wasn’t even close to their unclean thoughts. suna rintaro was lovesick, so lovesick that you surrounded his whole night— even on the rare occasion that you were out of his protective sight. you occupied his thoughts every minute, the way you spoke to everyone with such kindness and consideration, the way you let some of them cut you off mid sentence but were careful to bite back if someone off hand was said, the way you gave him sweet reassuring glances every two minutes to make sure he was having a good time and welcome to join your conversation whenever, the way you blew him kisses when you passed by him to go into another room— everything about the way you glew at that engagement party had suna feeling like a hopeless romantic.
as he neared the bedroom, only being two steps away from it, you stirred slightly causing him to gently stop momentarily to check on you. this allowed him to also use this as an opportunity to admire your unconscious state.
‘a true sleeping beauty’ he thought to himself.
your eyes were relaxed, an eyelid delicately draped over them like a blanket.
your mouth was open slightly, leaking drool that pooled in the corner of your mouth. the same mouth the suna kissed every morning and night, and dreamed of stealing more when he couldn’t.
but, as he stared down at you, he noticed how dolled up you still were. you still had your makeup on, a tad but smudged but there and your hair was neater than usual.
“fuck.” he whispered under his breath in realization.
the bathroom wasn’t too far from where he was now, just a few feet behind him, but he didn’t want to move too much in fear of waking the sleeping princess. but, he could manage.
carefully, he turned around as smoothly he could without swinging you around in his arms, his sockclad feet skillfully shifting with little to no motion beyond his torso. glancing down at you, suna nearly sighed in relief to find you still sound asleep.
he confidently but carefully took a few steps before making his way to the bathroom.
“rinnie?” you mumbled dreamily.
his heart almost stopped, had not been gently enough?
“yes, princess?”
you opened your eyes, blinking up at him sleepily.
“i still have my dress on and it’s uncomfy.” you whined softly.
he smiled at your cuteness but sympathized with your uncomfortable feeling.
“i know, sweetheart. i’m going to take you into here and get you all cleaned up and ready for bed, okay?”
you pouted but nodded slowly, dreading having to wake soon to get unready.
———
after a few minutes of unexplained moment, you finally opened your eyes to find suna looking down at you as he cradled you in his arms. you quickly recognized that he was standing in your shared bathroom, the familiar dim light of the mirror giving it away.
“hey, beautiful. i have to wash your pretty face off, okay? you have makeup on.” he softly explained when confusion flashed your face.
“oh.”
he smiled and nodded in agreement before leaning over and eventually attempting to sit you up on the counter. little to no words were exchanged between you two as you repositioned, the action being understood by you quickly.
he reached behind your right side, sliding your cleanser forward before giving your nose a soft kiss.
“wait,” you interjected. “i need the makeup remover first before the cleanser…” you corrected.
he nodded understandingly, murmuring a quick ‘thank you, baby’ in return before correcting his almost mistake by placing the larger bottle of micellar water from near the light switch, next to the cleanser.
“this stuff?”
you hummed in agreement, a sleepy haze coating your eyes as he glanced back at you, taking note of how beat you looked. he’ll be sure to get you all nice and tucked in when the two of you finally lay down for the night, the best princess burrito he could muster.
rintaro leaned over closer to you, his strong scent filling the empty air between the two of you causing you to wake slightly but not enough to pull you out of your dozed off state. you’re eyes were open but you had zoned out within the few silent moments, brain foggy and peaceful. his catlike eyes narrowed at you, enjoying the beautiful sight of you so serene. it was like you were an enchantress, your beauty lit up his whole soul, opening him up with light and covering all of his shadowy spots with your glow.
“you’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” he mumbled. “all mine too.”
your lashes fluttered shut, a carelessly swift motion that sent suna’s heart on fire.
“tired.” you groggily mumbled.
“i know, sweet girl. let’s get you all cleaned up, yeah?”
he briefly caressed your hair lovingly before turning the faucet on and squirting a pump of face wash into his open hand.
“one or two pumps?”
you hummed out your answer, a low effort attempt to answer him.
“what was that, princess? gonna have to speak up for me.”
“t-two.”
he obliged, dispensing another glop and lathering it to foam under the running water.
“now, you’re gonna have to wake up a little more, okay? i’m sorry, babygirl, i know you’re tired.” suna gently sympathized, his large callused hands wet with foamy makeup remover.
you let a light whine pass your lips, frustration and exhaustion bubbling in your chest cavity and threatening to flood the bathroom, taking your beautiful boyfriend with it. but, you obliged; opening your bloodshot eyes and being greeted with the domestic sight.
he stood in front of you now, only about two inches of space left between you. his hands were facing up, arms slightly extended to keep the soap from getting on him or dripping everywhere. rintaro’s eyes watched you intently, awaiting your ‘okay’ to wet your face and wash away the day.
but the only thing you could focus on was the scent that filled the air; suna’s scent. the delightful musk of his cologne mixed with fresh linens and a warm scented candle you lit earlier that day embraced your lungs as you breathed in, causing your heart to warm up and a small content smile to graze your lips.
“what’s that pretty smile for?” rintaro asked, his expression mirroring your own.
“just love you so much. feel like home…”
“i feel like home? or this house feels like home?”
you paused, inhaling the comforting aroma once more. this time his icy cologne overpowered the other smells, giving you a nostalgic feeling and a fond memory of yours clouded your vision.
it was late last june, the third summer you had spent with suna wrapped around your finger and this particular night just proved how true that started was. you were sat on this very counter top, your nightgown stained with the green clay mask that suna sloppily applied on your face. your arms were outstretched in front of you, your fingers gently tracing his face and leaving a thick layer of clay trailing behind them with ever inch of skin you graze. his strong hands rested firmly on your hips, thumbs rubbing the clothed skin lovingly.
“is it supposed to sting? because right now it’s stinging.” rintaro asked, his voice filling the silent bathroom.
you chuckled at his childishness, his pain tolerance low.
“yes, just slightly though— nothing harsh. it means it’s working, as long as it isn’t too bad. is it?” you replied.
he shrugged gently, his hands still firmly placed on your generously loved hips. oh, how much he loved your hips.
“nothing major or irritating. just… different.”
you paused the motions of your hands, focusing your attention on the tranquil expression that graced his face. as if he wasn’t already stunning…
his eyes were rested, gently shut and relaxed as you applied the face mask to his already clear face. whispering promises of relaxation and baby soft skin. he trusted you, allowing you to put whatever you desired on him without question.
“you look so pretty, rinnie.”
he chuckled, slightly flattered but used to your compliments by now.
“i bet you look even prettier, princess. my pretty princess.”
your eyes nearly rolled back in ecstasy at the last statement, your tummy infested with butterflies that had just got a sudden burst of energy. 
“my pretty princess.” you tiredly mumbled, the memory of that beloved night leaking into reality accidentally.
he furrowed his brows at you, confused to say the least but sure you had a good reason behind it… at least he hoped.
“what, dollface?”
“you called me your pretty princess the night we did face masks for the first time. don’t you remember?” you explained, hopeful that the memory was dear to him as well.
you and suna were both very madly in love; truly, deeply in love. so in love that both of your friends were so sick of hearing how much you meant to one another, hearing brag upon brag about how amazing the other was. but the worst wasn’t even in conversation— no, it was the way he spoke to you.
you meant the entire world to him, and he was absolutely sure that there was nothing that trumped you in anything; beauty, intelligence, kindness, affection— all of the traits that rintaro was sure you were the best at. his most fond memories of you were selected carefully, hand picked by himself going off of a system he called love.
anytime he felt like his heart was going burst, or when his palms would pool with sweat out of nerves, or whenever you both did something for the first time together— he would hold those special moments as close to his heart as he manage.
so yes, he did in fact remember the particular night you are reminiscing.
“mhm.” he hummed back. “f’ course i remember, sweetie.”
you smiled tiredly, your eyes hardly open but still trying.
“you called me your pretty princess.” you repeated.
suna’s cheeks tinted pink at the way your voice sounded, as if you were dreaming and he was everything you could ever wanted.
and he was.
“i always call you that.” he deadpanned.
why was that particular name sticking to you? it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for those exact words to slip out of his mouth when addressing you, so why were you so hung up on it now?
“yeah- but this was different. you said it like you meant it-“
“i always mean it. always.” his voice was authoritative, as if he was ordering you gently to correct your thoughts.
like a king, ordering his insecure queen to trust his love, demanding that she change her course of thought before he beheads her.
or at least that’s what your groggy mind concocted.
“but this was the first. the first time that i felt you meant it. i could feel the love and security behind your words, even if there were only three of them.”
rintaro was silent, his rough hands foamy and awaiting your approval to wash away the exhausting party. but, he couldn’t think of that right now. all that filled his lovesick brain was how beautifully romantic your soul was, and how it took everything he ever said to heart.
a few fleeting moments passed as he continued to think, a calm silence building in the air before a cheeky grin spread across his face.
“fuck, i just love you so much. you’re so damn fucking sweet, y’know that? my princess is so goddamn sweet and lovely. i just love you. so so much, baby. don’t ever change, please.” suna rambled, a large smile on his face as he spoke.
he placed a kiss to you lips, quick but enchanting before he finally quirked a brow at you, suggesting that he was ready to get this over with. you nodded, consenting him to clean your makeup off at last.
“wet my face a bit first. it’ll come off easier.” you mumbled.
he hissed out a ‘shit’ before rapidly looking around for a washcloth to wet and gently rub on your face to dampen it as you suggested.
you quickly caught on and told him to just rinse off his hands and pat the wetness onto your face before his hands dried.
“are you sure?”
“yes. it’s not like you’re dirty or anything. i suck on your fingers all the time, i’m sure i won’t get any dirtier from this than that.”
he smirked at the mention of his slender fingers in your mouth, suddenly craving the sight and feeling of it. but, he had enough courtesy to wait until before you drifted off in bed soon.
the action wasn’t sexual when you did it, neither of you saw it that way. it was more of a comfort thing for you, and suna sure did enjoy watching you so content just from suckling on his fingers. his.
with a small sigh of self-dissatisfaction, rintaro reached his hand into the sink and nudged the faucet on with his large ring finger.
“suna?”
he ran his hands under the water as he let out a quite hum.
“would it be okay if you could undress me too?”
“of course, princess. i was going to anyway.”
“really? it wouldn’t be weird?”
he furrowed his brows once more.
“why would it, doll? i’ve seen all of you many times, and i adore it. sexually or not.”
your heart swelled.
“what would i do without you?”
he chuckled as his hands turned clean and wet, taking them out of the running sink to wet your face with them.
“nah, sweetheart. the real question is; what would i do without you? my life would be so meaningless without a pretty princess to take care of. who’s door would i open? who’s food would i cut up? who’s pretty feet would i kiss and rub on?” rintaro questioned, taking a pause to place his warm wet hands on your face.
you sighed at the warmth, the water being the perfect temperature for relaxation. plus, his slender hands felt so comforting on your tired face, allowing your eyes to close at the feeling of your cheeks being caressed by your love.
“i love you so much, rinnie.” you mumbled. “thank you for taking such good care of me all of the time. i-i can’t imagine my life without you.”
he huffed out a adoring laugh, leaning down and giving your nose a gentle kiss.
“the pleasure is all mine, sweet girl.”
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slayfics · 7 months
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You fall asleep on Katsuki.
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You got onto the bus excited to get off of your feet. Your class had just finished an off-campus training exercise and was now heading back to UA. The training which required sparing with your classmates left you exhausted.
You were the last to climb onto the bus, as you had sustained some nasty injuries after the training. You moved slowly up the bus steps feeling your body scream at you. Scanning the seats left over, there didn't appear to be many options left.
Of course one of the open and closest seats left was the one next to Katsuki. Whatever, you thought, and made your way over to sit next to him.
It wasn't that you disliked him the way the rest of the class did, but he was the sparring partner who had left you in such bad shape today. It would have been nice to get some space from him.
The bus started up and began to move. Luckily Katsuki wasn't much of a talker. He stared silently out the window making it easy to ignore him. You felt your whole body sink into the seat, your muscles thanking you for relaxing. You leaned your head back against the seat.
"You good?" You heard Katsuki ask next to you.
"I'm fine," you replied. Although in actuality your whole left side felt like it was on fire. Katsuki had landed a direct hit on you, an exceptionally strong blast from just a short distance away.
"Thought you were gonna dodge that last hit dumb ass, I wouldn't have used such a strong blast," he grumbled still looking out the window.
"I said I'm fine," you responded back shortly. Your eyes were beginning to get heavy and you just wanted to nap.
"Yeah whatever," he said and fell back into silence.
You let the hum of the bus and the rocking moments of the road lull you to sleep. The bus went over a bump large enough to throw off your balance from leaning back against the seat, but not large enough to wake you up. As a result, you landed resting your head on Katsuki's shoulder.
Katsuki jumped silently surprised and looked down to see you were knocked out and hadn't leaned on him on purpose. "Ugh-" he grunted in annoyance but looked back out the window deciding not to disturb you.
Mina sitting in front of you guys had not stopped talking to Ochaco since she sat down. She turned around in her seat to ask you a question, when she noticed you knocked out and resting on Katsuki.
"Awe how cute!" She exclaimed.
"Shut the hell up! I'm only allowing it because I beat them down pretty hard today," Katsuki barked at Mina.
"Mhm~ ok Bakugo," she giggled and turned back around.
"Tch-," Katsuki grumbled and looked back out the window.
Katsuki yelling at Mina had disturbed you enough to become slightly aware of what was going on, but not enough to shake you fully awake. You became aware of the sensation that you were lying on Katsuki's shoulder and realized you must have fallen over when you fell asleep.
You were surprised he didn't kick you out of the seat the second you fell over and leaned on him. You decided to play off being sleepy and wrapped your arm around his and dragged it down bringing his shoulder into a more comfortable position for you to rest on.
"Hu?," Katsuki turned to look at you nuzzling up to him. "You're really testing your luck, you know that? If you drool on me I'm kicking your ass off this seat," He barked.
Ah- there it is, you thought laughing internally.
Katsuki leaned his head back against the seat, and you allowed yourself to fall back into a deep slumber.
After some time the bus finally arrived back at UA. Students began to get off and once again Mina turned around to look at you both.
"Ah! Uraraka look!" She exclaimed, pointing to you two.
Katsuki had fallen asleep as well but instead of his intent on keeping his head rested back against the seat, the bus movements caused him to lean into you. His head now rested on top of yours.
Mina quickly took out her phone and snapped a picture, alerting Katsuki to wake up.
"The hell?" He blinked hard and noticed the camera in his face. "The fuck are you doing raccoon eyes?? Give me that damn phone I'm going to explode it to hell!" He yelled.
"Do what you want but it's already on my story," Mina teased, sticking out her tongue and pulling down her eyelid.
"We better go!" Ochaco said, nervously pulling Mina off the bus.
Katsuki’s moment and yelling had shaken you awake. It took you a second to come back to consciousness and realize the situation. You pulled your phone from your pocket to check the time and realized a notification of being tagged in a photo from Mina.
You curiously opened the notification and were greeted with the sight of a picture of you and Katsuki passed out asleep leaning on each other. Your face instantly flushed.
Katsuki looked down at the picture on your phone, "Those damn extras need to learn how to mind their business," He spoke, irritation laced in every word.
You nodded not knowing how else to respond. The truth was you loved this picture, and you knew you would stare at it until it disappeared from Mina's story. That was until a moment later when Mina sent you a text with the picture and a message that read "You're welcome ;)".
"Come on let's get off this damn bus," He said motioning for you to get out so he could too.
You got up and made your way off the bus, Katsuki trailing right behind you.
"Alright let's go, I'll walk you to Recovery Girl she'll have some burn ointment that will help with that," Katsuki said, eyeing your left arm that he hit with a strong explosion.
"Awe, it's cute how much you care Bakugo," You teased him.
"Shut the hell up! I just know if I don't take you you'll be too stubborn to go on your own. I know how much of a wimp you are with anything remotely doctor related," He laughed trying to retort back but you could see through his ruse.
Katsuki wasn't the type of person to vocalize how he felt, ever. Instead, he showed it with actions, and even then he would try to disguise it as if it was a bother to him. Like it was something he couldn't stand doing. However, you knew better, it was too easy to tell that Katsuki just struggled with these types of things.
Whether it was how he was raised or something he experienced in his past, affection, and kindness didn't come naturally to him so he showed it in unique ways that the average person might miss. You wondered how many people weren't able to see past his temper and understand him. It made you sad to think about how many people he might have accidentally pushed away. And you wondered, how many people didn't take the time to understand?
"Thank you Bakugo, I appreciate it," You said, smiling at your classmate.
“Yeah yeah, don't think too much into it or whatever," He said as he began to walk towards Recovery Girl's station.
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Thank you for reading! I smiled a lot when writing this one hehe~
Tags~
@unofficialmuilover @snowmist-hashira
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disneyprincemuke · 1 month
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just a responsible pet owner * fem!driver
she comes home after a night of drinking, suddenly concerned about what their pets are eating
pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver
notes: hi ive had this fic idea in my head FOR WEEKS and i think it's so funny so here we are
(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)
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“be careful!” logan scolds as she pushes the door open, stumbling into the door as she opens it.
she kicks her heels off as she waves logan off who’s trailing behind her, arms held out protectively in case she were to fall into one of their shelves.
“i’m fine,” she mutters, slowly walking and swaying further into their apartment. she has her hands held out on both walls of the entryway to steady herself, desperately ignoring the way the room spins and how she’s stepping on her foot every time she walks.
“i hardly believe that. you drank too much, rocky,” logan sighs, scratching his head.
this could have been easier if she’d just agreed to let him carry her back from his car to their apartment. she wouldn’t have had to struggle stumbling everywhere in her heels, knees giving in every couple of steps.
she shakes her head. “i’m fine– oh! my kids! hello, kids!”
she drops to her knees next to the black cat by his feeding bowl, meowing at her as he puts his two front paws on her thigh. “hi, kid. did you miss me?” she grabs both sides of the cat's face, hunching over and pressing kisses to the top of the cat’s head. “i missed you. what are you doing? are you eating?”
“i think he was eating,” logan mutters. he bends over and puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “we should really get you to bed — take off your makeup and drink lots of water. how does that sound?”
she turns around, eyebrows furrowed at him with a frown. “that sounds stupid.”
he lifts his eyebrows. “oh?”
“yeah,” she hums, wrapping her arms around kidnapper, who willingly gets into her lap. “i want to cuddle with my baby.” she rests her cheek on the top of the black cat’s head, then opens her eyes. “is your food even nice?”
shortly, the corgi starts trudging up to her happily, prompting the young girl to squeak and open her arms up to the pup. stubby reciprocates and cuddles into her lap, tail wagging in happiness at her affection.
“dude,” logan repeats himself in a slightly firmer tone. “you need to drink some water and get to bed. at this rate, you’ll fall asleep on the floor.”
“wait,” she mutters, dropping the animals in her hands. she tilts her entire body and rests her head on the wall. “am i even feeding you well? is your food as yummy as you make it out to be?”
logan lets out a soft cry, his arm darting out immediately to grab her wrist before she could grab a kibble from the cat bowl. “that’s cat food.”
“i know,” she says in a whisper, her other hand coming around to tear his grip off her. “i just want to taste their food and make sure they’re eating well.”
if you had told him 5 hours ago that this would be the outcome of their night out, he wouldn’t have believed you. she’d always prided herself in having control over her body when she was drunk, but it seems that she’s just in another dimension tonight. he assumes it’s the 4 cups of margaritas that she downed in 10 minutes before he dragged them out of the club.
“that’s not for you!”
“stop telling me what not to eat! you’re not noah!” she squeaks, turning around to shove him away. “it’s just cat and dog food — i won’t get sick!”
logan throws his head back. “i can’t risk that! noah will kill me if anything happens to you before the race this weekend!”
she lets out a soft scream when he grabs both of her arms, pulling her away from the pet bowls, throwing her head back and resting it on his shoulder. “let me be the pet food police! if they’re not nice, i have to change the brand we’re getting!”
“mate, if they didn’t think it was nice, they wouldn’t be eating it!” logan fights back, pulling her arms back from darting forward to get a taste of their food. “stop trying to try it!”
“fine!” she drops her arms to her side as logan finally lets go of her. she blinks blankly and pouts her bottom lip out. “can i have a glass of water please?”
he stares at her, slightly hesitant. “you’re not going to do anything stupid?”
she shakes her head and drops it slightly, her hair falling down the sides of her face. “i’m thirsty. please?”
“okay,” logan nods, slowly scrambling to get off the floor. “stay here, okay? don’t go anywhere; i’ll help you get to bed after you drink some water.”
but he should have known better than to leave her unattended at that state. he had left for 20 seconds maximum to hurriedly get her a cup of water. when he came back, she’s lying on her stomach, chin in her hand with her elbow propped up against the ground, chewing away on something.
“hey, what the fuck are you eating?” logan screams, putting the cup down on their dining table and rushing over to where she is on the ground. “mate, you’re worse than stubby when he was a puppy! what are you eating?”
she doesn’t have the same urgency. her feet are in the air and she turns to him with doe eyes. “it’s kinda bland.” she looks at kidnapper, lying down innocently next to her. “how do you eat that, mate? it’s got no taste at all.”
she doesn’t spare logan another glance, just turns away and turns to stubby’s bowl. “what about you, tubs? what does your food taste like?”
“stop eating their food! if you’re that hungry, i’ll make you a sandwich!” logan scolds, climbing on her back to pull her away from the pets’ corner. “that’s not your food. stop eating it!”
“i need to see if their food is good food!” she continues to defend herself, pushing her arm forward in hopes that logan would be the first to give up the fight. “please! i’m a concerned pet owner!” she turns her head. “you don’t care for my kids!”
logan rolls his eyes. “yes, i do! i walk stubby every morning we’re home!”
“if you cared for them more, you’d try their food so that we know what we’re feeding them!”
“that’s not the same thing!”
“yes, it is! leave me alone!”
“rocky! pet food is not human food!”
“i just wanna try it!”
“give it up! you’ve tried kidnapper’s food and that’s enough,” logan sighs, dropping himself on the floor next to her. his hands, however, are still gripping hers and tiredly pulling her away from the bowls. “please stop trying to eat their food. it’s not for you.”
“why not?” she whines, now dropping her head to rest on her arm. “i’m being a responsible pet owner, mate.”
“no, you’re just being stupid.”
“aw, take that back!”
“but you are!”
“you’re always so mean to me!” she squeaks, lifting her head to look at him. “i’m going to bed!”
logan chuckles, “if you can get up and make it to bed by yourself, i’ll let you eat stubby’s kibble.”
she sighs loudly and drops her head again, followed by an even louder whine. “fine. you got me.”
they let the silence overcome them for a moment, his hands still gripping hers tightly. he’s let his guard down too easily once tonight and there is absolutely no way that she will get the best of him again.
“can you take me to my bed now?” she starts softly. “and i’d like that glass of water now.”
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @clemswrld @a-disturbing-self-reflection @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool
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herlondonboy · 3 months
Text
trust, clarisse la rue
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summary: how can she trust you again after you let everyone think she was the lightning thief?
warnings: break up, it’s rushed, child of hades!reader
wc: 1.0k
being the cousin of percy jackson would have it’s perks, if it weren’t for being his paternal cousin. sure, the gods have no dna, meaning you’re not technically related, but that didn’t matter to either of you
his father is poseidon, and yours, hades. you were cousins, if not by blood, by love for each other.
you’d only known percy for two weeks, but being on a quest with him taught you a lot. there was nothing he wouldn’t do for those he loved. grover, annabeth, his mother, he’s fight the gods for them. you admired that about him. he was twelve, but ready to humble the gods, days after finding out that he was a half-blood.
he was doing what you wanted to do your whole life. you wanted to scream and curse your father for being absent for so long, and he was doing it for you.
now that you have a family, consisting of a cousin and two little siblings (annabeth and grover, though annabeth hadn’t accepted it quite yet), all you wanted to do was go home into the arms of your girlfriend. you missed falling asleep in her arms, waking up to her scent, and just overall annoying her.
you wondered if she was mad at you, for taking longer that you said. she didn’t know you had been stuck in the lotus hotel for a few days and missed the solstice. all she knew what that percy failed the quest.
the underworld was your least favourite part of the quest. seeing your father, face to face. you scolded him as he tried to offer your friends pomegranate juice and he backed down, shrugging. then you left.
percy and grover followed you shortly, and you were once again face to face with ares.
gods, how you wanted to rip that smug smirk off of his face. he didn’t deserve it after what he said about his children, after what he said about clarisse. nobody forced him to reproduce, but he did, and now he blames them for being born.
despite being a god, and the one of war at that, ares lost to percy. you felt proud, like a parent watching their child succeed. ares was gone in a flash, and it was replaced by your fathers helm.
the children looked at you, so you stepped forward to pick it up. it was heavier than you had expected.
“percy, i-“ you turned around to see him walking into the small bungalow not far behind. sharing looks with the other two twelve year olds, you decided to follow him.
there, you met alectro. she took your father’s helm and percy made her tell him that you wanted your mothers back. hades wasn’t going to let your mother go, though. he needed you, and he’d lose you if you got her. sally jackson, however, was a different story. you prayed that he’d give her back to percy. he was just a kid, he needed his mom.
“no,” you heard, making you turn to see annabeth looking at percy.
“you’re not going to stop him,” you murmured, making them turn to you. “he going to olympus, whether you like it or not.”
percy nodded at that. “you three need to go back to camp. i have to talk to zeus. i have to.”
it took a little convincing, but eventually annabeth and grover agreed to go back. then all eyes were back on you.
“i’m going to olympus, too,” you told them. “my quest was protecting percy. if that’s where he’s going, that’s where i’m going.”
there was silence for a few more seconds before they accepted that.
-
you were finally back at camp. with percy walking next to you, you felt relieved. you’d met your uncles as poseidon defended his son against his brother’s wrath. now that you were back, you could hug and kiss clarisse all you wanted.
walking into camp, most demigods clapped for percy as you slowed down to let him relish in his glory. you were looking out for the one person that wouldn’t be clapping, and when you found her, her arms were crossed as she glared at you. you wondered if it was because you walked in with percy.
excusing yourself, you diverted from the path and towards your girlfriend with a smile. she scoffed and rolled her eyes at that and stormed off.
you followed her until you were far enough into the woods that no one would hear your conversation.
“hey, you,” you said softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but she spun around.
clarisse's eyes blaze with betrayal as she confronted you about the rumors circulating, questioning, "how am i supposed to trust you if you let everyone believe i was the lightning thief?" you're rendered speechless, struggling to find the right words.
in an attempt to defend yourself, you stammer, "i didn’t." but clarisse remains unyielding, her anger palpable.
“then why did you let luke believe it?” you stayed silent and she realised. the tension thickens between you, and the air becomes charged with unspoken emotions. she snaps, "oh, you think that because i crave my dad’s validation so much that i’d start a world war?" your heart sinks as she delivers the words with a bitter edge.
"i thought you, of all people, would understand," clarisse adds, her voice filled with disappointment.
desperation sets in, and you try to explain, "clarisse, it wasn't my intention. i would never intentionally hurt you. you know that.”
“do i?” she asked.
“i love you,” you tried.
but your words fall on deaf ears. she scoffs, shaking her head. "i can't trust you anymore," clarisse declares, breaking up with you. without looking back, she leaves you behind. tears well up in your eyes, emotions overwhelming you. the breakup is abrupt, and the pain lingers as clarisse walks away, leaving you alone with shattered emotions.
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fayes-fics · 7 months
Text
Comfort
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: Benedict comforts his new wife when her courses arrive…
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Warnings: mentions of menstruation, non graphic references to period blood. Otherwise, just the fluffiest of fluff.
Word Count: 2k
Authors Note: Unbetaed. Thanks to @colettebronte for help with the title. Request fill for anon HERE, where Benedict comforts his new wife when her period arrives overnight. This might be the most saccharine-sweet fluff I have ever written. For my usual smut peeps… err, apologies? Normal filth will resume shortly, I'm sure lol. <3
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You stir from your slumber to a dreaded dampness you know far too well. 
Oh dear heavens, no! 
Overnight, your courses have arrived without warning. Or perhaps, with hindsight, there were some signs, but you had assigned blame for the symptoms elsewhere. You had put your tiredness down to the exhaustive social whirlwind of your first ball as a Bridgerton. The dull lower back pain you had felt merely due to traipsing around the extensive grounds the host was keen to show off to all and sundry.
For a few moments, you lay staring frettingly at the ceiling, unsure what to do. You can tell that your nightgown and, likely, the bedsheets will carry evidence of this unwanted early arrival. You had plans to inform your lady's maids to prepare the following night. Trust your body to be at least a day early when you least need it. 
Next to you, your new husband of just fourteen days, Benedict Bridgerton, is sleeping soundly. You roll your head to look briefly at his handsome face in repose on the adjacent pillow, then bite your lip in anxiety.
Oh god, he cannot see this!! He simply cannot! What am I to do?!?
____
You had been taught a few things in the run-up to marriage by your Mama. One of them was never to mention or address the “monthly visitor” to your husband—it was a matter for you and your maids to deal with. On the nights you were “visited”, you were strongly counselled to sleep in your room rather than with your husband so he would not have to deal with “such unpleasantness”. This may have been logical advice for a regular wife of the Ton, but your mother probably never considered how non-traditional your husband would turn out to be. 
Hours after your nuptials, upon arrival at your new marital home - a wonderful brick townhouse just a few streets from Bridgerton House - you had politely inquired where your bedchamber was. At first, he laughed, then frowned when he realised you were serious. It turned out he had not made plans for, or indeed, set up a room for you separate from his.
“We are husband and wife now. We shall sleep together,” he explained, drawing you into his arms and planting a tender kiss on your forehead.
“But… every night?” you stuttered, still grappling with what exactly was expected of you as a wife.
“Yes darling,” he confirmed, still sounding vaguely bemused.
____
Since that day, you have shared a bed every night, which has been delightful for so many reasons. Indeed, you have never slept better in your life than in the two weeks since your wedding, falling asleep securely in his arms and awakening to his handsome, smiling face…
…Well, that is until now.
Now, you have no earthly idea what to do. 
You surmise it must be early, dawn breaking, a grey, feeble light peeking around the top of the heavy velvet drape curtains over the windows. Barely enough to see shapes and rough outlines as your eyes adjust. Not wanting to awaken Benedict by igniting a candle, you gingerly push back the bedspread and slide out as quietly as possible. In the mirror across the room, you catch sight of a scarlet bloom, visible even in this low light, so stark against your white cotton nightgown. Turning back around, your fears are fully realised when you see a mirror imprint left upon the sheet where you slept.
Horrified, you fly into a flurry of movements. Wanting to hide both your nightgown and the sheets you have sullied, albeit unintentionally. You slip as silently as you are able to the linen supplies cupboard and gather terrycloths designed for bathing. One, you wrap around yourself; another two, you decide to place upon the bed, hoping it will conceal the stain until your husband leaves the bedroom.  
You cannot wait to bathe but know that running a bath would surely awaken Benedict, the noise of water being poured into the echoey copper, even if across the hallway, being bound to rouse him.
Once back next to your side of the bed, you push the covers towards the middle and start to pull at the edge of the undersheet, hoping to slide a cloth under the stain and one atop, to stop the evidence from spreading. You glance furtively at your husband as you work, who unfortunately is turned onto his side facing towards you, as he often is when you awaken. 
In all heavens, could you not turn the other way just for once, my love? 
You move as stealthily as you can, so very keen to be unnoticed. The most challenging part is trying to wedge a cloth underneath, the sheet pulled taut by your husband's weight pinning down the other side. Just as you are fighting with both hands shoved far under the sullied sheet, you hear a sudden sharp intake of breath.
Oh no! He is awake.
His eyes fly open, and he squints as he takes in the sight before him. Then, a frown passes over his features.
“What on earth are you doing, my love?” his voice is deep and rough with sleep.
You whip your hands out from under the sheet, belatedly realising you are also muttering a repeated “no no, no no” under your breath as you attempt to reach for the upper cover and hide what has happened, but it is just out of reach, kneeling as you are beside the bed.
“Darling,” he sits up slightly, rubbing his eyes, obviously thrown off by your agitated state. “Please, whatever is the matter??” his tone rising in volume and concern.
Your eyeline falls reflexively upon what you are trying to conceal on the bedsheets, and his tracks yours. Unable to handle your embarrassment, you bury your head in your hands and slump backwards onto your heels, certain this will be repulsive to him.
“I am so sorry, husband; I was not expecting this to happen today; please forgive me,” you mutter defeatedly behind your hands, ashamed.
You are expecting a noise of derision or disgust. What you do not expect is a chuckle and then a large, warm hand brushing your shoulder.
“Darling, please get up off the floor,” his ask caring, no rebuke to be heard.
Your head slowly tilts up, and to your shock, he is leaning over onto your side of the bed, not far above the stain, and is observing you mildly befuddled benevolence.
“But, I…” you trail off, even as he reaches for your hand.
“It is fine,” he cuts in, squeezing reassuringly with his fingers. “You are a woman. Such things happen. There is no need for shame,” his eyes are soft with understanding. “I do have sisters, you know,” he adds with a sanguine laugh, a shorthand to explain his knowledge of your situation.
Your mouth falls open a fraction, completely taken aback by his affable, almost nonchalant reaction; it is very different from what your Mama taught you to expect. While you flounder in surprise, he rolls away and gets out of bed, padding around to your side, crouching next to you and drawing you into his arms.
“You… you are not repulsed?” you stutter as you recover, your brow creasing.
“Of course not, my love. It is perfectly natural, and there is nothing about you or your body that repulses me,” he assures, kissing your cheek. “In fact, it is very much the opposite,” his tone sincere and soothing.
You get lost in his hazy eyes and gentle smile, accepting his doting kisses that make you feel warm from head to toe. It is then he looks down and spies the bathing cloth you have swaddled yourself in from the waist down.
“I assume your nightgown is in a similar state? And that you would like to get clean?” he guesses empathetically as you nod demurely. “Then I shall summon the staff to run you a bath,” he hums, delicately brushing the stray strands of hair that had fallen askew in your scrambling efforts.
“Thank you, Benedict, so very much” you exhale, relieved and still slightly unmoored by his reaction.
His face breaks into that crooked smile that makes butterflies flutter under your ribs. 
“Please, my love, it is literally nothing. We have promised ourselves to each other for life. I expect to see this many more times,” he explains calmly as he rings a bell to summon his butler and presently provides instructions for a warm bath to be drawn and the bedding to be changed by the maids.
“You do not wish for me to sleep elsewhere when I am so afflicted?” you check as soon as you are alone again.
He chuckles as he did before. “Whatever for? You are my wife. I want you beside me all the time. It matters not to me if you have your courses. I still wish to fall asleep with you in my arms.” His sweet sincerity makes your heart skip a beat as he nuzzles your temple. “Although it has been a few short days since our wedding, I have rather gotten used to you being beside me. I cannot sleep soundly without you, my love. Nor would I want to try. We shall share our bed every night,” he adds solemnly.
“But, what if one of us is sick?” you inquire as he helps you to stand up from the floor, pulling you into his arms.
“‘Tis no bother. We shall surely both contract the same, seeing as we reside under the same roof; at least we can suffer in company,” he jests warmly into your ear as his hands rub your lumbar spine with a pattern that soothes the ache you feel there.
“What if you must travel for your art?” you challenge.
“I would be heartbroken if you did not come with me,” he volleys back with a playful pout that you can't help but giggle at.
“What if one day we have a child, and they will not rest without their mother?” your question is almost timid, knowing there is a bloom on your cheeks at the very thought.
He cups your jaw gently and tilts your face to look up into his. His mien is so devoted that the air is stolen from your lungs. 
“Then they shall simply sleep between us, my love. It will be my child, too. You will not be alone. Not when you have your monthly courses and not in the raising of our children. Of that, I promise,” his cadence is lilting and ardent.
“Thank you, Benedict,” you breathe shakily, scarcely able to believe that the man you married is nothing like how your mother had warned. It makes you feel so grateful you cannot stop your emotions, heightened at this time of the month, from bubbling over.
A large, warm thumb blots the tears that gather at the corner of your eyes without comment; he just accepts your state, bussing a kiss onto your forehead.
“I love you, y/n,” he breathes, warm air gusting over your skin.
“I love you too, Benedict,” your reply muffled into his neck as you mould into his strong embrace, remaining there until a lady’s maid taps on the door to convey that your bath is ready.
And true to his word, over the years, you are never a night without your husband. Through many monthly courses, through sickness and health, through children and even grandchildren. It is always his face you see just before your eyes droop closed and the moment they flutter open again. Your safe space. Your comfort. 
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Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb
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990 notes · View notes
luveline · 10 months
Text
𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
when internet trolls poke fun at your appearance while working on a case, hotch is there to make you feel better. fem!reader, 3k
tw cyberbullying, poor eating habits, criminal minds typical violence
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You're not a media liaison or anything close, but with JJ off for maternity leave and Penelope in Quantico, there's a face needed for the press announcement on TV, and you offer to step in. 
You aren't particularly eager to do it, but Hotch doesn't have the time or wherewithal and such a high intensity case, not while Spencer is at half-mast, migraines rendering him ineffective and stubborn. You're trying to keep the ship sailing smoothly, doing your part of the profiling while juggling media and supporting the police sergeant that's heading the tip line.
You're not expecting to become a joke. After a red-eye, three sleepless nights trying to find a missing woman in Oklahoma —the domestic violence capital— and a full day without something to eat, you're aware you don't look your best, but you aren't sure what that has to do with your missing person. 
The FBI — fugly bitches International. #FindDanaLangley
Damn, are they not letting those agents sleep or what? She looks terrible ! 
she should be less worried about Dana Langley and more concerned with the dead woman in the mirror, ew 
hope theu find her just so they stop putting this creature on TV #FindDanaLangley
"Well," you murmur, wondering if it would be inappropriate to burst into tears, "these aren't especially helpful." 
Derek looks at you, his gaze measured, and you know he's not sure how to react to you or what's happening. He settles on his usual loving encouragement, because he's a very good friend. 
"Don't listen to all that," he says, throwing his arm around your shoulder, "those trolls wouldn't know beautiful if it hit them in the face. But we could always try it?" 
You sink into his hold, needing the reassurance even if you wish you didn't. "No hitting," you say, covering your mouth to hide a large and possibly fugly yawn. Your head is racing with regurgitated insults. "It doesn't matter, Derek. Promise. We have bigger stuff to deal with." 
The door opens and Hotch and Emily step inside, Rossi just behind them. You're thinking Hotch is going to agree with your sentiment, no time for comfort when a woman's life is at stake, so you move away from Morgan to sit in front of your laptop again. 
"Is something wrong?" Hotch asks. 
You meet his eyes just long enough to smile at him. "Nothing. What did Amandla have to say?" 
Emily retells the alibi of Dana's ex-girlfriend and is clearly suspicious but without proof, you're forced as a team to move on to the next lead. Spencer returns shortly afterward and you try to brainstorm your next step. 
It's Penelope that pulls through. "You asked me to cross reference the neighbours at Dana's previous address with people crossing state lines, right, after that one guy ended up being kinda icky? Well I did that, and nothing came up, which was–" 
"Garcia," Hotch interrupts. 
"Right. Long story short, one of the neighbours recently had an extreme falling out with Icky Guy after a years long friendship, his name is Justin Mantova, he has extreme PTSD with documented episodes of confused aggression, and he's been seen coming in and out of a storage unit in Paseo Storage Solutions for the past four days." 
"Address?" Hotch asks. 
"Already sent to your phones." 
"Thank you, Pen," you say. 
"Just go catch the bad guy, pretty girl," she says. 
Ah, so she's seen the tweets too. You frown rather than smile, reminded again of what's been said and wishing you could be anywhere else. 
You get your wish and forget all about personal grievances for a while, concerned with the safe location and extraction of Dana Langley. The operation is clean, and she's hurt but has a great chance at a full recovery. It's quick, it's professional. 
You're falling asleep in the SUV on the way back. Hotch at the wheel, Spencer in the backseat, you rub your eyes from the passenger side and try not to look suspiciously morose, but it's impossible. Hotch is too good at his job. 
"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asks. With Spencer's window open and the wind whipping, it's hard to hear him. 
"Hm?" 
"Is everything okay?" 
"I'm just tired." You don't look at him. It's rude of you, but if what they've said is true —you'd seen the photographs, and you looked tired, sure, but you still looked like you. "Just tired," you say again. You snap your mouth closed when your voice wobbles. 
Hotch is regularly too sweet on you. Most of the team say it's a crush. Emily calls it 'character development. Whatever it is, he's nice to you. He warmed up to you near immediately when you first joined the team, and he's been as welcoming months later as he was in your first week. 
Maybe he feels sorry for me, you think, submerging yourself inch by inch into self pity. 
The three of you regroup with the others at the police station to pen immediate recounts of what happened before you can forget, tying up loose ends. 
Finally you're able to go back to the hotel. Another half an hour and you're in the lobby.
"We'll go home in the morning. Nine AM flight, meet in the lobby at eight thirty," Hotch says. "Get some rest." 
You disband. They've squeezed you in all over the place, and you're lucky enough to be next to the elevator on the second floor. Hotch is the third floor, and everyone else the sixth, so you say goodbye to your colleagues and exit the elevator, stepping onto the second floor with a parting smile.
You can't know it, but Hotch notices the way your smile falls before the doors have well and truly closed. Your shoulders slump in defeat. 
You trudge into your room and don't bother turning on the lights. The door closes behind you and the mask you'd been holding up starts to crack. You put your laptop in the closet despite temptation to boot it up, knowing no good can come of looking at the tip hashtag again. 
You head into the bathroom to pee, and you're confronted with your appearance as you wash your hands. 
You stare at yourself. 
You look tired. 
Tears well as you look at yourself. You're not those things those people said. You're pretty, and when you smile everyone knows it. There's nothing so beautiful as a smile. You can't summon one, but you know it's the truth. 
Or, it should be. 
A single tear falls down your cheek, quickly followed by a second, and a third from the other eye. You ignore them, tracing the line of your bottom lip, the texture of your skin on your cheeks, the slight sunken effect of your under eyes. 
A knock makes you flinch. "Fuck," you say, wiping your cheek with the back of a hand, twisting on the spot like looking into your room might reveal whoever it is at the door. Probably one of your team. "Hello?" you call. 
"It's me. It's Hotch. I know it's after hours, but I wanted to speak with you."
Whatever reassurance he has to give might actually make this all much worse. You don't want any pity from anybody, you just want today to be over. Still, you wiggle your toes into the plush hotel carpeting, debating only for a moment about the pros and cons of pretending to be asleep. 
"Hey," you say, opening the door. You wipe your eyes and hope he takes it for a tired gesture rather than a method of hiding the glassy sheen at your waterline. "Hi, Hotch, how are you feeling?" 
"Fine. Tired. Thank you for asking." 
"Do you want to come in?" you ask. 
"Please." 
Hotch follows you into your room. There's an armchair across from the bed next to a desk and an old TV sitting atop it. Your suitcase is still open on your bed, your pyjamas crumpled in the shell. You close it before Hotch can see. That's another thing to add to your list: being a slob. 
"It's very clean in here," he says. 
You startle. "What?" 
"It's clean, considering how long we've been here. Have you ever seen Spencer's room at the end of a case?" he asks. 
"No, is it bad?" 
"It's like a paper hurricane."
You look down at your knees, hyper aware of his gaze on your face, tired of feeling uneasy in your skin. 
"I wanted to say thank you for doing the press release yesterday. You did an amazing job. It's something to be proud of." 
Of course he's talking about the press release, the one thing you need to not think about. 
"Did Derek tell you?" you ask. 
"Tell me what?" he asks, voice sharpening.
You look up. Hotch is a picture of concern, professionalism slightly off centre. 
"Nothing." 
"Something's been bothering you. Something Derek should've told me, I'm guessing." 
You chew over your words. "Uh. Hotch, it's really nothing, it's a hiccup. The press release, I…" You really don't want to have to say it. The words get stuck at the back of your throat.
He leans forward. "What?" 
"I looked sick. On TV. I looked really unwell, and it– it actually–" Why are you stammering? What's wrong with you? You laugh and it's not your laugh but it's better than your nonsense stuttering. "Sorry. On the press release, I didn't look my best, and it was a hot topic. That's what I thought Derek told you about. But I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me, Hotch." 
"I don't feel sorry for you." 
You wince, "No, of course not." 
"Two seconds," he says, putting his hand forward in the air between you. "A hot topic? I don't understand." He looks genuinely apologetic. 
"The tip line got clogged up with comments about my appearance," you say. You phrase it as a professional error rather than the embarrassing event it represents in your personal life.
His lips curl downward. "Saying you looked tired." 
"Saying I looked unagreeable." 
"As a friend," he says, tone softening, "could you tell me what they said?" 
Heat blooms in your cheeks and behind your eyes, your throat aching as you scratch at a nonexistent itch in the crook of your elbow. "Um. Well, there was a lot of them, and they weren't all about me, but the ones I saw, they seemed to think I needed more sleep. That I–" 
Hitch rarely interrupts, but something in your voice must impel him. "What did they say?" he asks again. 
"That I looked like a creature. That they hoped Miss Langley would be found, so that they didn't have to see my face on TV again. Hotch," you say, your throat sounding as tight as it feels, "it was pretty bad, but it really doesn't matter." 
"I think it matters if it's upset you," he says. 
He has the warmest voice when he wants it to be, so dulcet, almost melodic. You'd think it was a practised phrase, but he speaks freely. 
"It didn't," you lie. 
Pointless in your line of work and automatic anyways. Hotch doesn't deny you the safety of your untruth, but he doesn't entertain it, either. 
"You're beautiful when you're tired," he says. 
You don't mean to, but you hold your breath. The silence that follows his remark is deafening. 
"You're beautiful," he says, again, as though you could've missed it the first time. "Regrettably, you're very tired, but you don't look any less pretty. Don't think what was sent in to the tip line has any merit." 
"Are you saying that as my friend or my boss?" you ask. It's meant to be a joke that lightens the mood. 
"Neither," Hotch says.
You gawp, and then falter. "Why…" 
Hotch is close enough to offer a hand, and you're feeling stupid enough to take it. He squeezes tenderly, looking you straight in the eye. "I'm sorry about what's being said. I had no idea. We can pull the video, and the tipline should stop now Dana's been found, but it doesn't erase what's already happened. I'm so sorry. It's not right, and it's not fair." 
"It's a hard job, right?" you ask.
His hand is so so big, and not as soft as you'd pictured. It doesn't make a difference, not when he's touching you like you might shatter. 
"That's not the job," he says.
"It's silly to care, though. About what other people think." 
"I hope you care about what I think. The merit of an opinion comes from the person, and the relationship you have with them. Anyone who knew you would know that you're beautiful." 
"Inside that counts," you say, not fully comforted, but trying to give him an out. 
"You're beautiful on the outside," he says, giving your hand a small shake. "You're an amazing woman, of course. But I, for one, enjoyed seeing your face on TV."
You try not to smile too hard, directing your gaze at your joined hands lest he get a read on you.
Hotch must know how you feel about him. He'd be an awful profiler if he didn't. You fawn when you're around him even now, months down the line from your very first meeting when you were sure your heart would ricochet from your chest, the intensity of your instant crush like nothing you'd felt, not even as a schoolgirl. He'd been tall, striking, classically handsome and completely unaware of the fact. Now he's sitting across from you and he doesn't seem so tall, nor so striking. His caring side shines like a gem. It's blinding, and it really does make you feel better. 
"I cried in the bathroom," you confess, rubbing your thumb against his in minute, near imperceptible circles. "I wish it didn't matter to me, how I looked. I know I was doing something important, and there wasn't time to freshen up. Maybe I should've just asked somebody else." 
"You did it perfectly. You were perfect. No one else could have delivered the profile to the public that professionally, and that astutely." 
Hotch stands up, and you don't know what to do. You decide to look up at him just as he takes your face into his hands. 
"No crying in bathrooms, okay? It would… it breaks my heart thinking about it. You come to me."  
Such a dramatic statement, yet Hoch lays it out like it's an unquestionable truth. No bravado, only a sincerity that makes your throat hurt. His frown slides back into place as his palms warm your cheeks. 
"You're so busy, I could never," you say, shaking your head. 
"Time and place, sure, but. I will always try to make time for you. I hope you know that by now." 
You nod dazedly. Hotch's hands drag with a pressure down to your neck, your shoulders, leaving tingling skin in their wake. He looks at you and time stretches, a few seconds pulled out of order. It's his closeness, and his affectionate, empathetic smile. 
You nod again. 
He relaxes. 
"Try and get some rest, okay? You need to take care of yourself. I know it's hard to ignore how you feel, I know today was hard, but you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I have faith in you." He gives your shoulder a final squeeze. "Are you alright?" 
"Yeah," you say. It comes out much more quietly than intended.
"Rest, honey. Call me if you're upset again. I mean it." 
He smooths your cheek with the back of his forefinger and you wonder if this is some weird fantasy. Hotch makes for the door, and you know for sure it's real when he says, "And no more caffeine tonight." 
"No more caffeine," you agree. 
He doesn't realise he's twice as bad as a coffee. Your heart races all by itself, his phantom touch on your cheek. 
"Hi, beautiful," Derek says. 
"There's the girl of the hour," Rossi says. 
You roll your arm in a bow, eyes stinging from the bright lobby lights but otherwise quite happy. Hotch called you beautiful last night. Hotch called you honey. People on the Internet who have nothing better to do thought you looked gross, but Hotch thinks you're pretty. It's hard to focus on the negative with a positive that good. 
"Good morning, my favourite boys," you say sweetly. 
Spencer looks up from his book. "Hey." 
"You didn't say hello," you say, "you excluded yourself." 
Spencer frowns and goes back to his book. You offer him a mini cookie from your pocket and he perks up, better when you whisper, "You know you're my favourite, Reid." 
"We all know that's a lie," Emily says, rolling her small suitcase to your left and nearly trampling your foot. 
"Unfortunately so," Rossi agrees. 
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." 
"Hotch looks chipper this morning, doesn't he?" Derek asks, nodding. You follow his nod too quickly and give yourself away, earning a scattered round of laughter from your tired team. "Got you."
"Laugh it up," you say. You're on a high that can't be killed, even with their collective teasing. 
"Why are we laughing?" Hotch asks from behind you. 
You jump half out of your skin. 
"We were laughing at Y/N's swift observational skills, but we spoke too soon," Emily says.
Hotch takes a moment to smile at you. "Hey, you look a little more rested. Feeling better?" 
A flush rises to your cheeks. "Much," you say, sounding foreign to your own ears. 
Hotch gives a pleased nod and clasps your shoulder gently before manoeuvring around you. "Let me go see where JJ is." 
He walks around the lobby corner and into the hotel restaurant. You have your face in your hands before he's gone, harassed by quiet whistles and giggling. 
"She's so embarrassed!" Rossi cheers, like a proud dad. "How hopeless, young love." 
"Someone please shut him up," you beg, rubbing your aching eyes. It's an excuse to hide your smile a moment longer. 
"Are you still tired?" Spencer asks. "You look tired."
"She does not," Derek says severely. 
You raise your head with a smile. Tired or not, Hotch thinks you're beautiful. He liked seeing you on TV. You lavish the memory.
"I'm genuinely exhausted," you say eventually, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek as you stand tall again.
"I want whatever kind of tired you're feeling," JJ says as she arrives, Hotch a step behind her. 
You meet his eyes. You think he might not acknowledge what's been said between you —it wasn't strictly professional to have held your face in his hands like that, after all— and the beginnings of disappointment creep in, until he stands at your side, his fingertips brushing yours. It cannot be accidental. 
"She wears it well, doesn't she?" he asks the group. He gives no time for an answer. "Everyone ready?" 
You practically vibrate your way to the SUV. Not a bad case, as they go. 
 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading, so much! I hope you enjoyed! if you did and you have the time, please consider reblogging cos it makes me happy <3
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Ready, Aim, Shot
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Hi! ♥ I hope you are all ok!
I have trouble finishing all the stories I started, but I’m working on it!
This one took me a little longer to write, I hope you like it. It is a little different from what I have written so far, but it is following a request from an anonymous:)
Summary: You’re a journalist and you were sent to a complicated place in the world. Will the attack you suffered prevent you from finding your girlfriend’s arms permanently?
TW: Angst, mention of war and bomb, accident, hospitalization.
PART 2 | PART 3
____________________________________________________________
Alexia is the only woman you fell in love with, and everyday you find yourself falling even harder for her. She was perfect for you. Caring, loving, loyal, attentive and sweat. Your bond is even more special than you ever dreamed before you became a couple.
However, things could have started more easily. You are a journalist/reporter and you know perfectly well that celebrities are not fond of this kind of profession, for good reason. When you found yourself following her for days for the report "Alexia: Labor Omnia Vincit", she was very professional at first. Like, really very very professional. But you lived with her for weeks, met her relatives and finally you found yourself covering her with heart eyes.
What you never imagined was that things could be reciprocal.
Shortly after announcing your relationship, at your friends and family only, you quickly settled together. Your cat met officially Nala at that time and you were spending happy days all four in Alexia’s apartment. I mean, your apartment now.
There are sometimes a few days during which you can't see each other, when Alexia leave for football or when you go in another country for a report. You go watch Alexia at every opportunity you have, enjoying to see her evolve in her element. And you know that Alexia reads or looks the articles or reports you participate in.
Alexia has already had a lot of trouble accepting that you go to eastern Europe last month for a report, so it's with a ball in the belly that you come home tonight. You have to tell her you’re leaving for another complicated place in the world and you know it’s going to be hard for her to accept.
You nervously bite the inside of your lip when you open the door of your apartment, immediately greeted by Nala who comes to rub in your legs, almost making you fall. You laugh gently and lift her off the floor to put a kiss on her skull before resting her gently. Your cat, for its part, opens an eye from its cat tree, long before turning and falling asleep again.
"Thanks for the welcome, Diabolo" you grumble.
You roll your eyes and hang your coat in the cupboard of the entrance before going in search of Alexia. Her sneakers at the entrance and a pleasant smell of food floats in the air, informing you that she’s home. Nala is ahead of you, running towards the kitchen, where you find your girlfriend.
The smile she gives you when you arrive takes your breath away and you accelerate the step to have her faster against you. Your face in her neck, you breathe her smell before putting a kiss, then several along his jaw to finish on her lips.
"Holà mi Amor"
She says to you smiling, passing both hands in your hair.
"Holà."
You let her kiss you again before taking a look at the stove to see what is in the pots.
"Did you finish training early?" You ask when you realize she’s had time to prepare all this and shower before you come home.
"No" she laughs softly "My mom came by to bring us what she cooked for her dinner with her friends tonight. Apparently she planned too big"
"Like she didn’t mean to"
You laugh too and Alexia throws you a smile and a amused look. You both know that she cooked huge quantities on purpose to be able to bring you some, Alba surely received her part too and you wouldn't be surprised to learn that your sister also received Eli’s visit with a tupperware filled with paella.
"Do I have time to shower?"
You want to get comfortable quickly, knowing the discussion you have to bring later. You think you’ll wait until the end of the meal though, not wishing to spoil your girlfriend’s appetite.
"If I had known, I would have waited for you" Alexia whispers, sliding her hands dangerously close to your butt.
"Alexia Putellas Segura, you are worse than a male teenager" you smile against her lips before kissing her tenderly. "I make it quickly."
After a quick shower, you go straight into Alexia’s clothes section of the wardrobe, choosing an old FC Barcelona jogging you love and one of her t-shirts with a Nike logo.
"It seems that you are wrong again on the side of the cupboard mi Amor" Alexia tells you with a knowing smile when you return to her.
"Oops."
********
After the meal, you sat on the sofa in the living room to watch the series that you started to follow recently. You still haven’t managed to talk about it, Alexia seems so relaxed and happy tonight that it breaks your heart to have to make this announcement.
However, your worry must be easily noticeable, since you feel Alexia’s hand on your fingers as you mechanically wiggle between them.
"Okay, what is it?" she asks you, slightly getting up to see you better.
"What?"
"You haven’t paid a single second of attention to the episode since we started it, you play nervously with your fingers and you keep biting your lip. What the hell is going on?"
You sigh softly and sit cross-legged on the couch, not finding the courage to look into her eyes. Beside you, you feel Alexia put herself in the same position. You feel her gaze on you as you speak again.
"I have to leave in three days for a new report" you finally confess.
"Where?"
"In the Middle East"
"No."
Alexia’s firm voice makes you look up and you can’t tell if her "No" is a ban she puts on you or if it's a form of denial to this information. Her eyebrows frown, her eyes are hard and you have to take it on yourself not to lower your eyes again.
"There’s no way you’re going. It’s too dangerous."
"This is my job, Ale" you point out lightly.
"I don’t care. You stay here, there is no fucking way that I let my girlfriend going right to death, your boss is completely crazy and irresponsible."
You watch her get up and go around in circles in the living room, talking while gesticulating her arms in all directions, scaring Nala in the same time.
"I’m not going alone, there will be my team with me."
"I. Don’t. Care."
********
Three days later, you find yourself at the airport with your team. By working together, they became your friends and Alexia knows them very well. And they know Alexia very well too. That’s probably why Lola asks you with surprise about the absence of your girlfriend to say goodbye.
"She didn’t want me to go"
You hardly swallow your saliva and thank Lola mentally for not insisting. Her compassionate smile is enough to bring some tears to your eyes, which you fortunately manage to stop.
Alexia is very mad at you. She tried emotional blackmail, anger, tears and pretty much everything in her possession to keep you close to her. The worst part is you would have preferred to stay with her, but you couldn’t refuse that warrant. You had already refused a report to manage Alexia’s anxiety a few days before and your boss warned you that it was the last refusal on your part that he accepted.
You don’t know if Lola passed on the information to the rest of the team, but they all show themselves to be particularly caring with you. Ben offers to check in your luggage and you gladly accept. You take a quick look at your phone and see that you have messages from your parents, your sister, Eli and Alba, but none from Alexia.
She left for her training saying goodbye of course, it was still out of the question to leave you angry. You can’t blame her, you know perfectly well that if things were reversed, you would react the same way. She too had tears in her eyes closing the door behind her and that didn’t help you leave your apartment earlier
"Well, look who’s here" Marta laughs.
Like the rest of your team, you turn to the point she’s staring off behind you. And you feel an electric current running through you when you recognize Alexia’s silhouette. She hasn’t seen you yet and you can see her look through the crowd with a desperate air, as if she were afraid of having arrived too late. Fortunately not, with the amount of material you have, boarding always takes forever.
Without hesitation, you split the crowd and she finally sees you. A few seconds later, you are in her arms and it's only now that you see Mapi over her shoulder. The tattooed one winks at you before getting away to give you some privacy.
"I thought I was too late"
Alexia’s voice came to you in a muffled way, her face being buried in your hair while she hugs you against her with all the strength of her arms. You give her back her embrace, certainly with much less force, but this embrace brings you the comfort you needed.
"Thanks for coming" you mumble back.
One hand in her hair and the other in the hollow of her back, you breathe deeply for the first time in three days. You stay like this for a few moments, before Alexia lets go of you with one hand to search in the pocket of her coat.
"I have something for you."
You watch her do and after a few seconds she show you a necklace with a pendant hanging. You would swear that something is hidden in it, but before you can question her on the subject, Alexia resumes speaking.
"You’ll open it on the plane, okay?"
You nod and let her hang the necklace around your neck. Her fingers make you shudder and you hurry to get back against her when she’s done. You don’t care if you’re being watched or even if someone recognized you. In any case, it’s been several weeks since edits of you two started appearing on the Internet. Alexia doesn’t seem to care much either since she’s the one who initiates your kiss.
"Promise me you’ll come back"
"I promise"
Her forehead leaning against yours and her look in yours makes you forget the rest of the world around you. The place where you fly is dangerous, you are perfectly aware of it. And Alexia too. She doesn’t make you make those promises every time, but only when she knows there’s a risk.
"I hate your job."
Her remark makes you smile softly and you replace a lock of her hair behind her ear before resuming speech.
"I think this is the last time I leave"
"What do you mean?"
The surprise forces Alexia to take off her face from yours to be able to better observe you. Her hazel look plunges into yours when you shrug your shoulders.
"It gets too complicated for both of us and I don’t have the same pleasure doing what I do anymore. I’ll talk to my boss when I get back, but I’m thinking of resigning"
Alexia’s face becomes perfectly smooth under the shock of the information and she blinks several times before responding.
"I- I never asked you to quit" she stutters, making you smile.
"I know"
You smile in front of her amazed air and kiss her tenderly on the cheek. You have been working for the same people for many years and have made a name for yourself in the profession. And even if a job change is turned down, you know you’ll find something else elsewhere.
You hear Lola calling you gently behind you, meaning it’s time for you to go. Alexia looks at you and your smiles are more like grimaces. It’s time to say goodbye.
"Take care of yourself and don’t let Diabolo eat too much."
"I will"
A new kiss is exchanged before you have to release her. You take a quick look in the direction of your team, most go up to the departures floor thanks to the escalator, only Lola is waiting patiently for you downstairs.
"Be careful, mi Amor. Think of me?"
"Every second of the day Cariño."
A few hours later, you are installed on your plane seat, window side. As if to better stick to your mood, the rain began to fall on Barcelona, drawing shapes on the porthole through which you look. Remembering the pendant that Alexia gave you, you gently take it in your hand to better observe it. You have no trouble finding the security to open it and inside you discover a rolled paper that you unfold. You smile and realize it’s a picture of you and Alexia. Behind it, she wrote a note.
"Forever with you. Te amo tanto. Alexia ♥"
********
Since your arrival, you have been able to exchange several messages and phone calls with Alexia. Things are going better than you both imagined, to your relief. You are not exactly in the middle of the conflict, the work you were asked to do being more focused on the population who decides to enlist in the army to defend their country. You are protected by soldiers who follow you like your shadow and you even feel safe.
It's the mind entirely turned towards the report that you climb in the jeep that brings you and your team where you have to meet several people to interview them. You have to go back to Barcelona in two days and your idea to resign is still on your mind. The more you think about it, the more you know it’s the right thing to do.
You are listening with amusement to Ben talking about his son’s latest mischief when something happens. A click, followed by the panic cries of the men around you. They express themselves in their native language that you don't master, or very briefly. A few seconds later, a heat wave lifts you off the ground and you are thrown out of the vehicle, unconscious, the mine you drove over blowing up everything around.
********
When Eli and Alba appear on the edge of the training field, Alexia knows something bad happened. The joke she was exchanging with Ona gets stuck in her throat and her face visibly pale. Jonathan accompanies them and beckons her to come to them. It's with tingling throughout the body that Alexia stands up and makes her way towards them.
"What happened?" she immediately asks, looking her mother in the eye.
"Y/N's team ran over amine. Half of them are still missing"
It's Alba who speaks, making Alexia look in her direction. Unable to open her mouth, she waits for further information.
"Y/N has been found, but it's not good Ale"
"What do you mean "it's not good?" "
Alexia gets upset, bringing their mother in the conversation for the first time. Obviously she fears the reaction of her eldest, knowing how attached you are to each other.
"Alexia…" she makes a soothing tone by grabbing her daughter’s arm.
"But just tell me! She’s dead, isn’t she?"
Alexia’s tone rises and she must take it upon herself not to push the physical contact initiated by her mother. Eli and Alba exchange a look before the first one resumes speaking.
"No, but she’s in a bad state. She was found unconscious and is on an official ventilator. They don’t yet know how badly she’s hurt. As we speak, she’s still in a coma and they don't know if she will make it."
********
The days that followed were a summary of hell for Alexia, your parents and your relatives in general. Due to the geographical distance, the news has reached them in dribs and drabs only by the interval of your team. Your boss got yelled at by Alexia, your father and Alexia’s mother. If you weren’t about to resign, there’s no doubt he’d demand you do.
After a few days of staying together at your parents', your loved ones have finally started their lives again. Your sister went back to work, but Alexia literally had to be taken out by force to agree to return to the training grounds. To make sure her daughter would go, Eli even asked Irene to come pick her up.
The information about you is vague but they know the main thing, you’re still alive. "She promised to come back to me" Alexia repeated several times, both to convince herself and to reassure others.
Even if she will never admit it, seeing her friends makes Alexia feel better. She strongly suspects them of doing everything to change her mind, but she is sincerely grateful. It changes her from the four walls of your parents' living room or yours, even if your animals also bring her comfort and affection.
Alexia is in the middle of a discussion with Mapi and Aitana when her phone rings from her bag. As always, she feels a mixture of feelings at the idea of dropping out, fearing bad news. But it’s usually your mother who gets calls from your bosses to give them news. It’s been three days now since they learned anything new.
Seeing that the call number is unknown, Alexia hesitates a few seconds before answering but ends up doing so. Normally, people with access to her phone number are allowed to have it. She has never had any problems with that.
"Holà?"
The silence settles on the other side of the phone and the Latin checks that she has picked up before putting the phone back against her ear.
"Is there anyone here?"
A new silence sets in. Just as she was about to hung up, Alexia finally hears a voice at the other end. The voice is barely higher than a whisper, as if the person were particularly exhausted.
"Ale? It’s me…"
The ground slips under the captain’s feet so abruptly that neither Mapi nor Aitana has time to catch her. Sitting on the floor, the one who had managed not to shed a single tear since the announcement of your accident melts into tears, alerting her two friends who are now convinced that something dramatic is happening.
Alexia let a flood of curses that you’ve never heard come out of your girlfriend’s lips when she realizes it’s you on the phone.
"I’m alive" you end up adding, not really knowing what to add.
"You had better" sobs Alexia before finally raising her eyes on Mapi.
Lost in her emotions, she didn’t realize that her reaction alerted almost the entire team. Ona, who had gone to take her shower, kneels beside Mapi, both leaning in the direction of their friend and captain while others stand in an arc around her.
"It’s Y/N. She did it."
********
Your parents had already had to detain Alexia so that she wouldn’t jump on the first plane upon learning of your accident, but this time it was even worse. With the injuries you’ve got, you couldn’t go home right away. The translation was sometimes complicated at first, until the Spanish embassy sent someone to do the translation. From there, you were able to recover your phone and thus be in contact with Alexia and your loved ones more easily. The connection is not always optimal, but having your girlfriend only a call from you does you a lot of good.
It's not in very good condition that you get on the plane to repatriate you to Barcelona, but you specifically asked to return as soon as possible, even if you were then hospitalized in Spain. During the explosion, it was mostly the left side of your body that was injured. In addition to a crumbling shoulder, broken ribs and a damaged knee, you find yourself with a head injury and a broken nose that fortunately had time to deflate. Thanks to that you no longer look like a boxer at the end of his career but it looks like you have two big cockroaches.
You learned yesterday that three of your six team members didn't survive the attack. Ben and Lola have already returned to Spain and it's with a hint of guilt that you leave Marta alone on the spot. But her family is coming in two days and she swore to you that everything was fine for her.
Exhausted by the journey to the airport, you slept all the way back and it is only when the wheels of the plane touch the ground that you open your eyes with a start. The person assigned by the embassy to follow you smiles kindly and you answer vaguely, before looking out the window. When you see the airport building, you feel your heart speed up. Alexia is waiting for you, a few hundred meters from you.
You tried to refuse to be moved around in a wheelchair, in vain. So it is with a sulky pout that you find yourself traveling through the airport, to the place to collect your belongings. The good news is that you had left almost all to your camp and so you were able to recover everything. Even the necklace offered by your girlfriend survived and did not leave your neck a single squad then you left Barcelona.
Your suitcase is much too long for your taste to arrive and you refrain from jumping on your chair of impatience when it is time to pass the security control of customs. Everything is going too slowly and you are convinced that you would go faster by limping with your crutch. But you finally arrive in the main arrival hall and it only takes you two seconds to spot Alexia, your eyes are attracted to her like a magnet. By the time she comes to you, you get up from the chair and two seconds later you’re finally where you want to be forever. In her arms.
The embrace is not very practical, your arm in sling prevents you from holding her as you would like and you clench your teeth not to flinch despite your painful ribs. You still feel that Alexia is doing everything she can to be delicate. She has not yet been able to truly realize all of your injuries.
But in the end you don’t care, because it’s all about her. Alexia feels like she can breathe completely for the first time in about ten days. You feel her coming off of you after a few minutes and you have trouble supporting her gaze. You know that you look terrible, even if you are not the type to wear kilos of makeup every day, there you are really far from being to your advantage.
"Mi Amor" she whispers tenderly, holding your face in her hands before as much delicacy as if it had been porcelain. Her thumbs caress your cheeks and you feel tears in your eyes. "It’s over. You’re home."
You nod and close your eyes, letting her kiss you tenderly before she takes you back against her.
Needless to say, the next day your boss received a letter of resignation from you. Thanks to what happened to you, you received a starting bonus, allowing you to have money set aside before embarking on your new project, writer and WAG. Because from now on, it’s out of the question to part with Alexia for more than half a day.
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lady-rose-moon · 5 months
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I would love to see how you write Loki X shy reader. Like she’s obviously so into him and he just loves to watch her get all flustered
Meet me in the elevator || Avenger!Loki x Reader ||
↣ MASTERLIST
𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 3.7k
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Since moving into Avengers Tower last year after being rescued from HYDRA, you’ve developed close friendships with the main Avengers, loving to spend most of your time around Wanda or Natasha. They all knew that you didn’t handle well in public settings, talking with new people - hell, it was difficult to just talk to them sometimes, never mind people you’d never met before. 
You were settled into a room on the twenty-fifth floor, alongside Thor. It stayed that way for a while before Thor returned from Asgard one day with Loki on his arm. For Loki’s credit, he looked as pleased to be there as the Avengers were to see him there. You, on the other hand, stayed very quiet through the argument that came next, taking moments to just admire the new addition with curiosity. Something inside you told you that you weren’t supposed to be intimidated by the highly intimidating God before you. 
“But shouldn’t he be sent to S.H.I.E.L.D? Or- maybe whoever we are supposed to send him to should he return,” Steve was asking, your mind bringing you unwillingly back to the present, your eyes straying away from the man who appeared to be the person at fault for New York 2012. 
“If he is handed over to them, they will waste no time in attempting to experiment on him and his power,” Thor answered, his eyes serious and focused on not just Steve but everyone in the room, “Father has ordered his imprisonment here within the tower where we will keep him subdued. Should you turn him away, I am to find alternative lodgings.” 
The Avengers took a moment, unspoken arguments crossing around the room before Tony relented, hanging his head and uttering the damning words, “fine, give him the room next to yours, Thor.” 
Your admiration stopped within a millisecond. The room next to Thor’s was exactly opposite yours! Slowly, you slid down the sofa until you were fully laid down and silently groaned to yourself. Of course, you’re shacked with a Thunder God and his Godly terrorist brother.  
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Following Loki’s sudden appearance within the tower, you spent more time avoiding the 25th floor. You avoided it as if it were the plague, going so far as to fall asleep in the common room of the tower just so that you wouldn’t be on the same floor as Loki.  
The God didn’t look happy when Thor forced him down to meals every day, claiming that getting Loki into such a routine would be good for his mental health and would help his ‘healing’. You watched every day as Loki sat opposite you, emerald eyes downcast and his posture closed off, unwanting of any attention. Perhaps, you thought, he was like you these days? 
You didn’t stick around long enough to actually find out if your theory was correct, however, as once you were done eating, you excused yourself and quickly fled to the library on the 16th floor. 
The library was your safe space away from the ruckus of the Avengers and their mission discussions, the quiet of the library calmed a part of you that you never realised needed to be calmed. Since you had woken up in your cell within the HYDRA base with no memory of your life before, your social skills had been severely affected, only opening up after weeks of people trying to get you to open up. 
Finding the library after being rescued by the Avengers shortly after the Sokovia incident was a breath of fresh air. From the moment you stepped into the two-floor library, Friday had made sure to play classic music as soon as you entered, easing the stress within you as you scoured the shelves. Since then, you have been happy to visit the library to escape the Avengers and lately; Loki. 
The sun shone through the floor-length windows as it reached its peak for the day, the warmth enveloping you as you happily walked through the multiple shelves, your fingers absently brushing against the spines. Perhaps I should try to bring someone here, you thought, recalling speaking with Wanda about the library and smiling at the fascination on her face at the prospect of advancing her magic through books Thor had brought from Asgard. 
~~ 
The silence reigned in the tower during meal times for weeks after Loki’s arrival, it was a statement that everybody was uncomfortable with the God being around. Loki, for the most part, seemed as if he didn’t give a shit about their opinions about him. You’d begun to differentiate his movements from the others, seeing how he got up to get his Asgardian tea prepared exactly three minutes after Banner had poured his coffee and walked away. How Loki would reach for a sandwich shortly after Barton had grabbed six of them, handing three to Natasha to prevent poisoning. How, even though he looked unbothered, there was that subtle glint of loneliness. 
~~ 
It had been weeks since your magic had surfaced, weeks since you’d been able to delve into somebody’s mind. Wanda had taught all of the Avengers how to block themselves mentally against your powers so that not only you could have a better night's sleep but so they could as well.  
However, you did not expect to fall into Loki’s dreams.  
One moment you were in your own dreams, the next you were standing in a golden throne room. You hid behind a pillar to avoid being discovered, fearing that you’d been snatched by someone. 
“What do you want?” there was a voice ahead of you, your view obstructed by the pillar you were hiding behind but when you peeked past it, you saw Frigga, Thor’s mother and therefore Loki’s too. She had a soft frown on her lips, her head tilted slightly as she approached her son, her hand reaching up to caress the terrorist’s cheek. 
Your heart stuttered in shock at the discovery. You hadn’t imagined Loki would allow someone close to him but then again, she was his mother, it made sense in a way. 
“I…” Loki began and your heart stuttered again but it wasn’t shock, it was a feeling you’d never felt before. You’d never heard his voice before other than the scary videos you were shown when you joined the Avengers, discovering their past. He sounded British, yet he was Norse along with Thor, then again, Thor had a sort of Australian accent when you focused enough. 
“I want my brother back,” Loki admitted, his head hung, vulnerability radiating off his body language as he admitted the weakness to his mother. You watched as Frigga’s face swiftly changed into an understanding smile before pulling him in for a hug. Still, Loki continued, his voice coated with grief, “I’m alone there, Mother, I do not want to be alone.” 
“It was better than the punishment Odin had planned for you, Loki,” Frigga whispered, her eyes shining with tears, “infinitely so.” 
You took in a sharp breath and that was all it took for Loki’s sharp eyes to meet yours and the room disappeared, replaced with a bedroom that looked almost identical to yours in Avengers Tower.  
“What are you doing here?” Loki snapped, his eyes hardened and his guard back up. He studied every fraction of your face, looking for the malice he knew you’d have, looking for the blackmail to begin, looking for the taunting. Yet, he found nothing. 
Since his arrival, he had taken note of your presence, never once considering you’d be anything like the Witch or Vision. Yet here you stood, in his dreams. Loki grimaced as you stayed silent, his head tilting ever so slightly, mimicking Frigga’s previous actions. “Answer me,” he snapped after a few moments, annoyed by your ignorance. 
You trembled as you stared up into Loki’s eyes, your nerves taking control of your body and preventing you from speaking up. Your eyes scanned his face, taking in the wet tear tracks that slid down his face, shining in the light that was coming in from the open curtains. Then your eyes fell to Loki’s decorated tunic, noting the hints of gold woven into the threads and the green accents everywhere.  
“You’re staring, pet,” Loki purred, stepping closer to you, intrigue apparent in his features. He’d never seen someone take this much interest in his appearance before. Sure, he’d had wenches back in Asgard to quench his need but never had they admired him the way this girl was doing. It stirred something in Loki, a challenge.  
You stammered, attempting to find a way to plead your case before realising it was futile. You wouldn’t be able to find any way to explain this, not with your tongue being tied and your fears rising. So, instead of speaking, you snapped away from his dreams and sat upright in bed. 
Brushing a hand through your hair, you took a deep breath before retreating into your bathroom. Since it was the early hours of the morning, you’d abuse the silence of the tower and roam how you wanted. 
As you left the room, you were unaware of the emerald green eyes following you from the doorway of the room opposite your own.  
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You seemed to run into Loki a lot more after accidentally stumbling into his dreams a month ago. Whenever you’d step into the library, your eyes would be drawn to the floor-length windows where Loki was lying on the sofa with a book in hand, lazily turning pages. He gave you no mind, he didn’t even acknowledge you were there yet you still felt his eyes on you constantly. 
He was in the gym when you were trying to get some training done. Dressed in just a simple tunic and pants, going up against Steve, he looked the epitome of the female gaze. His hair was pulled back in a bun and his tunic was slightly wet with sweat. You huffed, trying your best not to get distracted by the alluring God fighting against the supersoldier but damn you couldn’t help getting a few glances at that ass. Definitely Asgard’s ass, you thought to yourself with an amused grin.  
“Y/N!” Steve called from the ring, running over to the edge as you turned to stare at him, your eyes wandering over his shoulder to meet Loki’s heated gaze and your body warmed, alight with need and interest but physically unable to say anything. 
“Yeah Steve?” you spoke up quickly, your eyes quickly shifting to meet Steve’s again. 
“Spar with Loki, I need a break,” the soldier spoke. He said it so casually, as if he wasn’t condemning you to at least fifteen minutes of torture in the ring with the object of your desires. Then again, Steve seemed to be oblivious to all the sexual tension happening within the Avengers. He didn’t even know about Wanda and Vision until he saw them kissing in the breakfast room! 
You sighed and nodded, getting into the ring and facing Loki. The God’s lips quirked up into a half-smirk as he took you in, his eyes hungrily roving over your body. The tank top you wore barely hid the sports bra below it, your leggings clinging to your legs sparking an interest deep in his abdomen. You drove him mad. You hadn’t visited his dreams since that night but damn, you haunted them still! 
“Are you ready, darling?” Loki purred, his voice sinking deep into your bones as he flexed his muscles, grinning to himself when he watched your eyes wander down his form, “you’re staring, Y/N.” 
Your body jerked up straight, freezing with nerves as you were caught in the act before you shook your head and got into position. 
Sparring with Loki brought out that inner calm that you didn’t know you had. Your mind was always whirring with ‘what if’ scenarios, pulling you under the waves if you allowed yourself to think about it for too long. Inside the ring, mirroring Loki’s movements, keeping eye contact and ignoring the hammering of your heart, you felt more like yourself than you had for years.  
When Loki grabbed you and pushed you to the floor, arousal streaked through your body as you were held firmly beneath him, his emerald eyes searing into your own, your heart racing and your mind racing a mile a minute trying to find a way that this can be explained platonically. He was just fighting you, he didn’t want a real reaction, totally not!  
Loki, for the most part, kept his attraction to you a secret but as you became a true competitor for him in the ring, he licked his lips at the challenge and eagerly fought back. When he pinned you to the mat, he saw the spark of arousal in your eyes and his grin morphed into a smirk. “TKO, darling,” he whispered seductively, watching your eyes flutter before you seemed to come back to yourself, bring yourself to your feet and scurry away. 
From behind him, Loki heard a groan and he chuckled to himself. “Is there a problem, Agent Romanoff?” he asked with a pleased hint to his voice, rolling his head and groaning at the satisfying cracks that could be heard. 
“Whatever you’re doing to her, Loki, I suggest you stop,” Romanoff warned, her eyes aflame as she stared at the God of Mischief, “she’s a good asset.” 
Innocently, Loki flashed a smirk at Romanoff before striding out of the training room, his bag and towel following after him surrounded by a green glow. 
~~ 
After  that, no matter where you were; somehow Loki was too! 
Even if you’d checked that he was in his room before heading out anywhere, he just appeared and soured your day. Well – not really, but you acted like it did. In the library, the gym, the kitchens or even out in the city as you got very stir crazy. 
Now, you're back in your quarters and you get your first real chance to relax for a moment with Loki constantly following you around. After a rough day, your mind is going a mile a minute as you go through all the different ways he's interacted with you lately. Sure, he could just be friendly and interested in getting to know someone new, but the way he looked at you... the way his eyes locked onto yours... was there something more? You refused to believe it. Loki, the God of Mischief, could never be attracted to you. 
Now that you had a moment to think, your stomach growled and you sighed at the realisation that you'd need to step out of your room yet again to get food. You could order but the temptation to get pizza or McDonald's would be too strong. Clicking the lock of your door, you stepped out into the dark hallway and made haste to the kitchens three floors below. Only when the elevator doors dinged open, you were greeted with the heated green gaze of the one God you did not want to see right now. 
"Loki," you whispered in shock before calming your racing heart and stepping into the elevator, pressing the 16th floor button, "how convenient that you are here." 
He flashes that grin at you that always seems to make your heart skip a beat. Loki casually leans against the opposite wall of the elevator and gazes at you with those enchanting emerald eyes. "Hardly, I just needed food. I suspect you did too?" he asks with that slight smirk.  
"That's a very nice outfit you're wearing, darling," he adds. His smile shifts slightly at your blush, that blush that is totally just a natural response and not from him teasing you at all. 
You stammered as the elevator descended. Those three floors feeling as if they take an eternity to get past in order to get to the common area. It wasn't really a nice outfit you were wearing, in all honesty. Just simple green joggers and a black shirt. Something you'd simply thrown on to venture downstairs. You weren't aware that you were wearing Loki's favourite colours, didn't know that you were blatantly displaying your affections for him through your clothing.  
"Thank you," you murmured so you didn't seem rude, hugging your arms before you gazed up at him and the red that tinted your cheeks deepened when you saw that Loki had not once looked away from you, even if you'd turned your head to the ground. 
He stares at you, trying to hide a grin at your evident embarrassment. He likes seeing you blush, and your shy nature certainly makes it easy to do so. Loki decides that he will have a little fun with this. "Tell me, darling," he asks. "Do you happen to like the colour green?" he asks, keeping that smile on his face, just waiting to see your reaction. 
Oblivious to the double meaning to his words, you eagerly nodded and grabbed at your joggers, proudly displaying them to the God of Mischief.  
"Yeah," you gushed, a goofy grin on your lips that pulled at Loki's heart, your eyes full of innocent pride, "always has been a favourite, always will be." 
He raises an eyebrow at you, his smile growing slightly with that innocent pride you have for what you're wearing. Loki decides to play along with your innocence and go to the next step. 
 "Why, darling," he says, his voice full of mock surprise. "You're not trying to signal that you like me, are you?" 
Heat once again rushed to your cheeks at the suggestion. Why would he ask that? Where had that ever been a signal that you liked him? Unless... no- it couldn't be. You remembered a conversation from months ago, Thor had suggested that women who wore red would always be seen as representing him in a way with their colour. Did Loki hold that belief too? 
Loki watches the way you react with great interest, and is amused by that adorable blush of yours. 
"Oh, darling," he replies. "I simply love a woman who knows how to show off their affection for a man. It's the ultimate form of respect." 
His expression shifts slightly, and he takes a small step closer to you. "What, does this little outfit you're wearing mean that you think of me so much that you don't mind the chance that others might see as you trying to court me?" he asks in a playful tone. 
"I- I- I didn't mean to-" you stammered; your cheeks flushed bright red by now yet again - though you supposed they'd never stopped being so since entering the elevator-. Your pride for your outfit faded, replaced by nervousness and a little bit of arousal for the God before you. His gaze seared into your soul, laid you bare before him, helpless to even process the fact that the elevator had long since stopped, the emergency stop button being pressed by Loki minutes ago. 
"You didn't mean to?" the God asks, feigning innocence despite knowing exactly the effect he's having on you. He takes another small step closer, still keeping that charming grin on his face as he looks at you with those enchanting eyes.  
 His hand comes up to your throat, and he leans in closer, whispering in your ear. "Maybe you should come back to my room, darling," he says in a soft voice, as if that suggestion is the most natural thing in the world. 
Your eyes widened in shock, your body trembling as if processed his request. He said it so naturally! How could he say that so casually?! So many questions raced through your mind as you stared up at him, your lip trembling as you struggled to find words to portray the whirlwind in your mind. Suddenly you realised you were trapped in this elevator with Loki for who knows how long, and you were ultimately playing a game of cat and mouse with the God of Mischief.  
"I don't- I can't- we- we're partners, Loki, what will the others think?" you whispered, trying to hard to shy away from the handsome God before you. 
He grins at you, amused at the sudden confusion you're feeling. He leans in even closer, his warm breath on your ear as he slowly leaned in closer to you. "Who cares what the others think?" he whispers. "They don't matter. Only we matter here. Don't you want me, darling?" he asks, his voice husky and full of the most hypnotic desire.  
 Loki's breath catches in his throat as he looks at you, lost in your beauty. "Give in... we have both waited too long, have we not?" he whispers. 
Biting your lip, you tried one last time to shy away from his affections but your movement was prevented by a large hand encompassing your throat and pulling you closer to him and soft lips were pressed to your own. Shock rippled through your body as you took in this sudden action before your mind became quiet and you melted into the kiss. 
He holds you close, a passionate grip with one of his arms wrapped around you so that you can feel the warmth of his body and his muscles as your lips mingle with his. 
As he pulls back from the kiss, Loki is visibly panting. "I can feel your heartbeat, darling," he whispers. "You like my presence all the more." You can't deny it. Loki seems to make your heart jump even more now. 
"I have wanted..." you hesitated, shame filling your body at the realisation that Loki had at least been interested in you for a while and you'd be avoiding him. "Since you came here, I have been intrigued by you then... one day... it was feelings and then... I tried to hide it," you whispered with a soft laugh, shaking your head and avoiding his gaze. 
Loki wraps you in a warm embrace, running his hands over your hair. "Darling, you're so adorable. Why ever would you try and hide this from me?" he asks, looking directly into your eyes. "Let me show you just how interested I am in you." 
 Loki's eyes shift to something you hadn't expected: hunger. His eyes were always beautiful, but now they were filled with raw desire. And it was focused entirely on you. 
Food forgotten, you pressed the button for your floor and wrapped your arms around Loki's neck, awaiting the arrival of your floor four floors above you. 
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writtenfangirl · 8 months
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Jealousy, Jealousy
I am cranking out these Charles fanfics left and right. I have never done this for any other fandom ever.
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Y/N was bored. It was the only way she could describe it. She was bored. With her boyfriend currently preoccupied with his phone, Y/N couldn’t stop the boredom that crept up her spine, numbing her body and dulling her brain. Her eyelids were beginning to shutter close and if there was one thing that could prevent her from falling asleep, it would be coffee.
“Cha?” She said, fighting back the yawn that threatened to escape.
“Hmm?” He hummed, his attention still wholly focused on his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen.
“I’m going to go get some more coffee, yeah?” Y/N said as she stood up from their table in the cafe that Charles and Y/N usually went to.
It was Y/N’s grocery day, which meant she was suppose to be in and out quickly but with Charles offering to come with her, her usual 2 hour errand had spilled over to 5 hours. With Charles receiving call after call from Fred and the rest of his race engineers, Y/N understood why he was easily distracted and she had exercised every bit of patience. Besides their day had essentially come to a close so it wasn’t like Charles was doing anything wrong by ignoring her. Their groceries were already loaded in the car and they were just meant to spend the rest of they day together.
Still, her patience was beginning to fray and she was getting sleepy.
Charles glanced at her before his eyes went back to his phone. “Sure, cherie. Can you get me another cup too?”
Y/N didn’t bother leaving a response, not when Charles was already preoccupied with whatever he was doing.
Instead she went to back to the counter, looking at their selection of pastries through the chilly glass window.
The cafe had one of the best pain au chocolate Y/N had ever encountered in her life and Charles was always partial to their eclairs.
“Back for part two?” The clerk, who had wide eyes and a kind smile, asked her French.
Y/N returned her smile and answered in French. “Oui. Can we get a refill on our drinks but this time with an order of pain au chocolat and an eclair?”
“Of course. I’ll bring your orders out shortly.” The attendant said before he disappeared behind the curtain that led to the kitchen to bring out their orders.
From the corner of her eye, Y/N could see that Charles was still distracted by his phone, his thumb tapping this way and that as he typed out a message to someone.
The door of the cafe opened and the little bell that was tied above it rang a clear and crisp note.
A man around the same age as Y/N approached the counter, a charming smile on his face. He was quite handsome with crystalline blue eyes and a chiseled jaw but he wasn’t the kind of man Y/N usually would have gone for. He had an air of arrogance that she wouldn’t have been able to stomach on a regular basis. Still, he was nice to look at.
“Where is the attendant?” The man asked as he looked around the counter for the clerk.
“He went to get my order,” Y/N replied politely, “I’m sure he’ll be out soon.”
The man’s attention locked on her, his eyes roving down her body before flying to her face, an arrogant smirk on his face. “You’re very pretty.”
Y/N tried not to roll her eyes, her previous politeness evaporating at the man’s words. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Just the pretty ones,” he grinned. “You have a boyfriend?”
From the corner of Y/N’s eyes, she saw Charles look up from his phone, his eyes narrowing at her and the man before her.
“Why?” Y/N smirked, her demeanor instantly changing from mild annoyance to flirtatious as she became fully aware that her boyfriend was glaring daggers at them, “you’re gonna ask me out on a date?”
“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”
Suddenly, Y/N felt a familiar weight around her shoulders and her smirk turned into a full blow grin at Charles’s arms protectively and possessively wrapping around her.
“She does,” Charles said with a glare, “can I help you?”
“No,” the man said as he looked at Charles with mild surprise, his eyes alit with recognition, “I just wanted to tell you that your girlfriend is very beautiful. You’re a lucky man.”
“I’m aware,” Charles said, clearly unimpressed, his eyes still narrowed into slits. “Do you need something else or are you ready to leave?”
“She didn’t tell me you were her boyfriend,” the man said defensively, raising his hands in an effort to show he meant no harm.
“Now you know. Do you want me to get the door for you or what?” This time, Charles’s tone held the undercurrent of a mild threat and his grip on her shoulder tightened.
Slowly, the man walked away, leaving the store with a tinkling of the bell.
Charles turned to her, the glare in his face never leaving. But rather than cower before it, Y/N simply grinned. “I think that might have been the hottest thing I have ever seen.”
“Stop provoking me, cherie,” Charles said as he slightly pinched her shoulder. “Why are you trying to make me jealous?”
She gave him an innocent smile. “It was the only way I could catch your attention. I was feeling neglected.”
Charles’ glare melted from his face, his face now looking mildly guilty. “Mission accomplished, you have my full undivided attention. I’m sorry for neglecting you, cherie.”
“Apology accepted,” Y/N said as she leaned up and placed a quick kiss on his nose before she grinned. “I was just kidding though. You can go back to work.”
Charles rolled his eyes. “You have my full undivided attention now. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” And then, as if to prove his point, he flicked Y/N’s nose.
“Well if this is how you react whenever you’re jealous, I should do it more often.”
“Please don’t. I might end up in jail or worse if you keep this up.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He deadpanned. “I can’t believe of all the men, you chose that guy.” He gave cafe’s door a pointed glare, as if somehow the previous man would suddenly materialize back into the shop.
“He was nice to look at,” she shrugged.
Charles scoffed. “I’m nice to look at!”
“Yes, you are. The best view in all of Monaco. I’d never go for a guy like that so you have nothing to worry about.”
Charles grinned at her and she returned it with a cheeky smile. “It’s hard to be mad at you, cherie, when you say things like that.”
“I know. It’s why I say things like that. Now, I am being serious. You can go back to work.”
“You’re sure?” He said, raising a brow.
“I’m sure.”
“You won’t try to make me jealous anymore?”
“Well, if someone handsome comes along, then I might not have a choice.”
“Y/N!”
“Kidding!” She laughed. “You know you’re the only one for me.”
Charles smiled, wide and genuine. The kind of smile that had Y/N’s toes curling in her shoes and her heart beating fast in her chest. “And you’re the only one for me.”
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sunlightmurdock · 17 days
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The Odyssey | 1.5 | Bradley Bradshaw
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Bradley learns that maybe the two of you weren’t on the same page after all.
Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), swearing, infidelity, nudity, mentions of erections, making out. Semi-oral (f receiving), touching, mentions of sex. Ohhh boy you thought it was all okay. Wc: 5.8k
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It didn’t feel like seven days at the Gabris estate. It felt like so much longer. A whole summer, even. The sunny day down at the lake, and then two whole days of rainstorms, and the day that Teodora showed you how to know which apricots are the sweetest to pick, the day that Zoe twisted her ankle on the crumbling back steps. The night by the piano.
This morning. 
Luke must know where Bradley is, after he didn’t go to their room last night. Maybe he would think Bradley fell asleep in the study, but he isn’t that stupid. 
Of course, Bradley is here with you. He fell asleep here last night, shortly after you had. He’s still asleep now, breathing deeply against the crook of your neck, his thigh slotted between yours and his palm on your stomach.
You haven’t been awake long. 
It’s a warm, sunny morning and you can hear Sandro’s wife singing in the kitchen downstairs. Bradley smells like summer. You twist in his arms and turn your face toward his neck, breathing in the citrus and faint sweat and remainders of his cologne. 
Bradley wakes to the feeling of your lips soft against his neck, and your fingers stroking at the hair at his nape.
Instantly, he realises that he didn’t make it back to his own bed last night, but he can’t find it in himself to mind. His arms snake around your middle and he squeezes you closer. He’s in your room. Not only that, but he’s in your bed. You’re laying on your side, the textbook half squished under you. The two of you fell asleep studying. He’s still fully clothed, and that’s what matters. 
He lifts his arm and squints to check his watch. It’s still early. The two of you slept almost all night. Lowering his wrist, he startles once more to find that your eyes are now open. You blink tiredly at him.
“We fell asleep.” You mumble, barely awake. Your legs stretch out from under you as you push yourself onto your back and inch away from him. You’re close enough that all you can smell is his cologne. Each inhale tempts you towards letting your heavy eyelids just fall shut, letting your cheek rest against the muscle of his shoulder.
“Morning,” You murmur against his neck. 
He kisses lazily at your temple. “Good morning, honey.”
Last night, Bradley had touched you again. The two of you had been sitting on your bed, and you were teaching him the Wall Street way of playing poker — as skilfully learned from your time watching your father — and Bradley had, so crudely, wagered your underwear.
They are laying, discarded, on the floor of your room now. 
It feels good, pretending that none of this matters. That he is allowed to touch you, and lay with you, and kiss you. 
“Did you sleep okay?” One of his palms pressed firmer into the middle of your back, flattening you against his chest as he turns his face  toward your neck. 
“Like the dead.” You mumble against his warm skin, resting your cheek against his clavicle. He hums amusedly.
For a moment, you let it be quiet. He’s still on the cusp of sleep, barely awake and groggy. Your fingers skim up the swell of his bicep and across the scarred skin on his shoulder, onto the muscled plains of his back.
He hums at the feeling, letting you know that he’s enjoying the soft touch. Maybe you’re enjoying it just as much. His skin there is soft, and always warm. You reach for freckles that you can’t see, guided by the ridges of his shoulder blades. 
“I could stay like this forever.” You whisper. He makes a tired sound of agreement as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. 
Sighing as he pulls his hands from his face, he pulls back and lets himself look at you. Settled down against the pillow, just watching him. Studying him.
Eyes heavy and blinking at him. Lips parted just slightly, like you’ve got something to say. The warmth of your skin. The look in your eye. The fact that he knows your underwear are still on the floor.
Bradley moves before he really weighs up what he’s doing. Eclipsing your jaw with his palm, you hold your breath as he leans in and kisses your top lip. 
It’s slow, but the feelings it sends through you aren’t. The soft weight of his chest pressing into yours, just a taste of what the real thing could feel like. 
Another slow kiss, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. You comply eagerly, pressing into his touch. His knee slides between yours, finding leverage on the mattress between your thighs.
Your mind skips ahead of you, flooding the darkness behind your eyelids with images of him that night with Natasha. His hands inching along the backs of her bare thighs. The need coursing through them, pressing close to each other with each kiss. 
His warmth is inviting, intoxicating. His palm sits heavy on your cheek as you shuffle impossibly closer to him. He welcomes you against him, covering you with a fraction of his weight. Bradley likes strong women. Experienced women. 
You rush forwards, chasing his mouth, grabbing at his shoulder, tugging him closer. He follows your lead wordlessly, carding his open palm over your hair, teasing his tongue along your lip. 
It occurs to you that this could be the first time that you ever have sex. Everything you’ve been so afraid of. Ashamed of. Enveloped, hidden away by the strong feeling of his hands on your body.
It could happen. All that’s stopping you is his underwear, and the fact that he told you he wouldn’t. But he wants to. He told you he wants to.
A greedy hum passes your lips, caught against his. Your fingers slide from his shoulder into his hair before you can remind yourself that this isn’t right. 
At first, Bradley thinks that he’s imagining things. There’s no way. But then, it happens again just as it had the first time. Your hips shift at just the right angle — the third time is just too much for it to be a coincidence, you’re grinding against his thigh.
A low grumble fights its way from his chest and into his throat, his hands sprinting for you like the snap of a rubber band, grabbing you tightly by your hips. It crosses his mind that he’s moving too fast and considers pulling back to check. Before his mind can land on an answer, your hand tousles into his curls and grabs firmly.
Even all of those too-big shirts he wears, nothing could really hide the fact that Bradley just remains to be a big guy. Tall, wide shoulders, long legs and a strong middle. He reminds you of his strength, dragging you against him by your hips. The brown hair that dusts his thigh brushes the inside of your thighs, the apex of your legs.
“How’s that?” Bradley asks as his thumb brushes a strand of hair back off of your temple. 
Heat flushes instantly across your face. Bradley sees it in the calculated way that your eyes widen just slightly. The way he feels your fingers flex at the nape of his neck.
“It’s fine.” You bite back. Bradley should have known that even in a time like this, you would still be fighting him for the upper hand. Not tonight, honey. His words cross your mind, this time tinged with the resentment and shame your mind has coated them in. 
You’re certain that he hasn’t ever told Natasha no in her entire life.
He trails his tongue along the seam of your lips, slow and soft, then brushes forwards and captures your mouth into a bruising kiss. He barely even pulls back to speak, his lips brushing yours. “Tell me what you want.” 
You whimper. His massive hands and their hold on your hips, rocking you against the denim of his jeans. It’s impossible to think straight. “I don’t know.”
“I know what I want.” Bradley tells you, tucking his thumb under your chin and angling your jaw so that he can bite at your throat. The action has you keening against him, eagerly following the direction of his thumb so that his mouth can reach more of your throat.
 It’s cruel honestly, everything he’s doing to you. He’s the first man to tell you that he wants you. Not because you’ve been together a while and it’ll happen eventually. Because he thinks you’re sexy. He’s attracted to you. He wants you. And fuck, his voice is so deep. “Tell me what you want.”
“I — Bradley, I don’t —“ You sigh, huffing a deep and frustrated noise as he sucks warmly at your skin. “I want you to touch me… I think.”
“You think?” Bradley’s hand sits against the backside of your thigh, warm, his long fingers splayed out along your skin. His lips barely have to move before he’s sucking at your neck. His warm mouth, languid against your skin. Swiftly, he curls his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips and tugs you against him, working you against his thigh.
The friction ignites something. Something you’ve felt before. The kindling is hot but it’s all white smoke for now. Blinking, you stare up at him with a decision to make. He squeezes your hips.
“I do. I do want you to touch me.”
The expectation is that he’ll pull back and tear your nightdress up out of his way and have his way with you. Bradley nips at your throat compliantly, kissing his way down your jaw and your throat.
He tips you onto your back and follows suit, settling between your thighs. The morning sun covers him in gold, from the flecks in his irises and the strands in his curls to the tanned swell of his shoulders. He mouths at your collarbones, following the sweetheart neckline of your nightie, palming at your thighs.
A moan tangles from your lips as he flattens himself against your body, his bulge between your legs and his hot chest against your skin. 
Bradley dips his hand between your bodies and feels you finally. He sighs against your chest, smiling. “Oh, honey.” 
Your heartbeat thuds. His fingers graze your swollen clit and you jolt a bit, otherwise stuck to the spot by his weight. 
“No wonder you want me right here,” He murmurs, gathering your excitement on the tips of his fingers. “All worked up. Don’t worry, honey. I’ve got you.”
You drop your head back onto the pillows, feeling electricity rush through your middle as Bradley circles your clit with a featherlight touch. A whimper slips your mouth despite your best efforts, despite your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.
“I want to do it.” 
And then you have his attention. He looks up at you, his face stark and the smugness that had settled there all gone.
“Yeah?” He swallows, so hard already that he’s aching. Far from in the mind space to really disagree with you. His brows draw together. “It?” 
This time yesterday, you probably would have said no. Maybe even last night, you would have. 
This morning, it’s a breathless and desperate, “Yes.”
“I don’t —“ Bradley squeezes at your thigh and shakes his head. “Baby, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“It’s just one step further than this,” You tell him, convincing yourself as much as you’re convincing him. “Doesn’t make it any different. It doesn’t change what we’ve already done, right?”
In these past seven days, Malcolm has never felt as far away. After what he did, what he must have done, you’ve never felt as far from him as you do now. He’s probably been looking for a phone number to contact you, and you’re glad that he hasn’t found one.
You don’t want to speak to him. In this moment, all that you want is right in front of you.
“But…” He swallows thickly, trying not to be driven by how badly he wants this. He taps his thumb against your chin. “You’re — You’re sure, this is what you want?”
“Uh-huh.” 
He hesitates, planting a hand into the pillow beside your head. His face is knotted up and unsure. A week ago you had been crying in his arms after the biggest betrayal of your life. This can’t be the right thing to do.
He glances down, feeling your fingers brushing along the ridges of his abdomen. 
Your lip throbs with the weight of your teeth pressing into it as your fingers dip into the waistband of his white boxer shorts. Bradley’s breath catches as your fingers wrap around his hardened length.
“Please?”
A deep sound passes his lips. How’s a guy supposed to say no to that? He leans in slowly, capturing your lip between his, his tense body melting against yours.
He groans as he pulls away from your mouth and moves downward. Your hand slips from his underwear and finds purchase against his shoulder.
 He kisses down your cheek and your jaw, spilling dirty kisses along the naked span of your chest as far as the nightgown will let him as his hands bunch at the bottom hem of it.
Your mouth hangs as he hunches over and pins your thighs back.
Glistening in the warm glow of the room, you writhe and wriggle beneath Bradley as his strong hands pin you down, lazily swirling his tongue along your puffy, swollen clit. 
“I said — I want—“ You stumble, your brows knitting together.
“I know what you want,” Bradley interrupts, turning his head and kissing at your thigh, silencing you all together as he looks up at you with those big brown eyes. “There’s no rush. Right?”
You guess not. You don’t have time to guess at much before his broad shoulders force apart your thighs and his hot mouth blanks your mind.
A whine spills from somewhere deeper in your throat, coming right from the pit of your stomach. Bradley’s messy with his work, lapping eagerly between your legs as his middle finger teases at your dripping pussy. He hasn’t ever done it like this.
 It’s more desperate now, but like it’s easy for him, like he knows you. His chin drips with your excitement, leaving your thighs sticky and dampened with slick and saliva.
His hand slips between his hips and the mattress, wrapping loosely around his cock over his boxers, grinding his hips into his hand.
And then, three knocks rattle the heavy, old door to your right. 
Bradley stops, and sits back on his knees at once. Your face is colorless, eyes wide and round. He runs a hand over his wet mouth, and turns his head towards the sound.
“Fuck.” He exhales, his lips hinting at a smile. As much as he should look just as scared shitless as you do, something in him finds this a little bit funny.
He’s expecting it to be your new best buddies, wanting you to come down to breakfast with them. Already deciding that he can handle hiding behind the door while you get rid of them, Bradley couldn’t be cooler.
Three more knocks rattle the old door on its hinges, and Sandro calls out from the other side. “Bradley?” 
Instantly, the smile is wiped from Bradley’s face. 
You scramble to cover yourself and close your legs and move, not quite as aware of your surroundings as you could be. As Bradley goes to move at the same time, your knee lifts and catches him squarely in the balls.
Sandro pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he hears a loud, strained grunt come from inside.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I didn’t—“
Bradley lifts his face out of the pillow and swallows as he adjusts himself, exhaling heavily. “It’s fine. Fuck— what the hell is the matter with him?”
Matter with him in the sense that he is impolite enough to know exactly where Bradley is, and what that must mean, and to be knocking on the door anyway.
You watch as Bradley stumbles to his feet, clearly wounded, still clutching at his manhood as he picks up his jeans. 
“You can’t — you’re going to answer the door?” You panic. 
“What else do you want me to do? Hide?” He huffs, struggling to pull his jeans up his legs and button them.
“You could go out the window.” 
He shoots you a look, entirely unimpressed. You open your mouth to protest, left with no time to do anything but squeak softly in defeat as he pulls open the door an inch, blocking it with his body.
“What?” 
Sandro presses his lips together. He looks Bradley up and down. Disheveled, his curls a mess and still naked from the navel upward.
“There’s someone on the phone for you.” Sandro explains quietly. Bradley’s brows knit together as he starts to wonder who could possibly be trying to reach him this early in the morning. “Her father. I believe.” 
A quiet gasp comes from behind the door. Bradley closes it a little more, slotting himself into the gap.
“Cool. I’ll be right there.”
“Sure. He sounds upset.” Sandro lifts his palms and shrugs as he takes a step back from the door, his mouth twitching. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Ha. Ha.” Bradley answers, unimpressed.
He swings the door shut, and flattens himself back against the wood as he pinches at the bridge of his nose. You remain in the middle of the bed, your knees tucked up to your chest, your hand covering your mouth.
“Fuck me.” Bradley sighs, leaning his head back against the door. He stretches his hand into the pocket of his jeans and plucks his cigarettes from the pocket, shaking his head. “Does he have a monitor on you that I don’t know about?”
He almost makes you smile, but you’re wincing as you slip out of bed and stand up. 
“Let me speak with him,” You offer, walking nervously toward him. “He’s just going to be rude if he’s asking for you. I’ll handle it.” 
“And miss out on telling him what an incredible morning we had?” Bradley jokes, unlit cigarette wobbling between his lips as he steps around you and reaches for his shirt. You stumble mid-step, practically pouncing on him as you grab at his arm.
“No! You can’t tell him anything.” You plead.
Bradley turns and looks at you over his shoulder, brows furrowed in disbelief. 
“Believe it or not, honey — I’m not itching to have that talk with your dad. I was kidding.” He scoffs, pulling his t-shirt over his head and running his fingers messily through his hair. “You should pack your stuff. I’ll… see you later.”
“Wait!” You frown at him. “But we were…”
Bradley seems to remember his moment of insanity then — of how close he was to actually doing it just a moment ago, and blinks at you. He plucks the cigarette from his lips and leans forward to leave a passive kiss to your temple.
“Another time,” He sets it between his lips again and digs his left hand into his pocket for a lighter. “Gotta go.”
Another time. Gotta go. The door swings shut behind him and the smell of burning tobacco fills your nose as he light’s the cigarette out in the hallway. You hate that smell. You hate how casually he just moved on from that. And oh, you could kill Alessandro. 
“Hello?” Bradley pins the receiver between his ear and shoulder as he pulls the ashtray from the window ledge and flicks the tip of his cigarette toward it.
“That’s how you answer the phone? — You don’t introduce yourself, or ask who you’re speaking with? Mumbling over there—“
Bradley perches against the window and sets his cigarette back between his lips. “I know who I’m speaking with. Sir. How can I help you?” 
“I want to know what kind of operation you’re running over there. There’s no contact number for this place anywhere on the itinerary, and then when I do finally track down a number, I spend two days calling and get nothing but a dead line!”
“We had some bad weather, unfortunately it knocked out the power. Just got it back on last night, actually.” Bradley explains calmly. 
“And you think that’s acceptable? — What if it was an emergency?”
“Was it?” Bradley prompts. Maybe he has a little bit of an attitude, but he doesn’t like the way your father talks to people.
“You think you’re funny, son?”
No, generally Bradley doesn’t think that he’s too funny. He’s a lot of things, and he’s got a good sense of humour but he’s not funny like Robin Williams or Chevy Chase. But, Bradley’s got a special knack for always being able to get the last word.
“I think the house is five hundred years old and has some pretty questionable wiring. Was there something you needed me for?” 
“You know that I can have you fired?”
Bradley leans his head back and thunks it against the window frame. He can’t blame you for the attitude you catch when this is the guy you learned it from.
“In the interest of preserving my good friend’s phone bill, I’m just trying to be… concise, here.” Bradley answers, flicking more ash into the tray. If this phone call keeps going the way that it is, Bradley figures he’ll be chain smoking through until the afternoon.
“My son-in-law has been trying to get through to my daughter. He’s… worried about her. Has she said anything to you?”
Said something pretty interesting to me earlier, Bradley thinks. Right around the time she stuck her hand in my shorts.
“No, sir. Maybe her friends, but not me,” Bradley gives the answer you would want him to give. “We’re headed to Siena this afternoon and the city’s a lot more reliable for communication and stuff. I can have her call you once we’re there?”
“No. Don’t tell her that I called.” Your father decides. Bradley doesn’t mention that you already know, because he was in your room when he was informed. “What’s the number for this place?”
“I don’t have it on me. I can take down your number and I’ll call you from the hotel when we get there.”
“Not very organised for a college professor, are you, champ?”
Bradley wets his lips with his tongue and presses them together. He spends as little time on the phone as he possibly can, resenting your father’s every word. He likes the thought of Malcolm sitting at home and tearing his hair out, worrying.
He likes the thought of that little dirtbag being kept awake at night, terrified that you know what he did and that you’ll leave him. It’s what he deserves.
Bradley likes that you fell asleep in his arms last night, peacefully, and that you woke up this morning and found yourself comfortable enough to ask for what you had. Your fiancé probably didn’t cross your mind.
He goes for his morning run a little later than normal, after his phone call, and thinks about what you had said.
He shouldn’t have agreed to it as quickly as he had, maybe. It should have required more thought, and discussion — better place or time, perhaps. 
He had been so adamantly against it, but this is starting to feel different. It’s more than a few kisses here and there. It’s Bradley enjoying feeling your weight in his arms when he sleeps, and looking forward to your smile when he wakes up.
It’s better, with him. Your first time would be better with him — and he doesn’t even mean that in an overconfident way. He just knows that he and Malcolm are far from the same, and that Malcolm could never treat you the way that Bradley does so naturally.
Bradley decides that he won’t initiate anything other than a discussion on the topic of sex. As much as he does want it, he could go for months without it. And this has to be your call. But, he doesn’t want to know what sparked the idea into your head this morning.
If you ask him again, he already knows that he would do it.
By the time he has finished with your father and with his run, it’s almost time to go. The group of eight of you are spread around the mini-can, bags loaded and waiting for Bradley while Pasquale sits in the front. It’s a really short drive today. Just over an hour to the other side of the city.
“Did anyone else get their assignments back late all the time?” Abigail muses as she lays across the three backseats of the van. You’re sitting a row in front of her, fiddling with your Walkman.
“Even when I was TA’ing, and I’d get my grading in on time, Bradley still gave everyone their results back like a week later.” Robin agrees.
“Yeah, ‘cause he was too busy slipping it to Miss Penny all year.” Luke scoffs without looking up from his chapter on bathhouses, his arms stretched around Robin’s middle as she sits on his lap. 
Instinct almost has you whipping around to look at him. Common sense has you gripped to the spot, staring at the little plastic contraption . You blink furiously at the cassette tape in front of you.
Miss Penny. Who the hell is Miss Penny? Granted, you hadn’t spent too much time wandering the humanities building, but you’re affronted to not be able to picture this mystery woman nonetheless.
“No— Miss Penny? No. Please, like Bradley would ever tell you who he’s screwing.” August — Gus —, the only other guy in your little group of eight, scoffs towards Luke. He’s standing outside of the van, leaning up against the doorframe.
“And if he was making it with anyone, it was for sure Doctor Hayes. Have you seen the two of them talking? — Man, even I felt the tension.” Zoe decides.
Screwing. Slipping it to. Making it.
And now the introduction of Doctor Hayes. 
At least this woman you have heard of; she’s an anthropology professor, and she certainly wasn’t making it with Bradley — she’s happily involved with a woman.
 It was a big point of conversation in your household. The news came to light just before your father was going to make a donation, she visited him personally to ensure that her romantic indiscretions wouldn’t affect his generosity.
If Bradley wasn’t screwing Doctor Hayes, then he probably wasn’t—
“You’re right, they were probably just friends,” Luke shrugs, again without looking up from the book. It should soothe you, but it doesn’t. It’s an arrogant thing, the way he knows everyone’s waiting on his every word, so he doesn’t have to lift his gaze to engage. “Doesn’t change the fact I saw them going at it in his office.”
 When you look up you’re startled by Robin already looking at you, like she just stole the crayon you’ve been waiting for and she’s waiting for your tantrum to begin.
You glance across at Luke instead, who is still staring smugly at his chapter.
They already think that Bradley is screwing you, maybe they’re making it up to get a reaction. 
You muster the calmest look that you can, and flip back a page in your notes, pretending that you’re reviewing the material.
You haven’t ever been to Bradley’s office. There’s a vague understanding of approximately where it is that comes with having spent four years wandering those halls, but in a pinch you would be guessing at exactly where.
 You don’t know what his desk looks like, or if he’s got one of those frosted glass window panes in the door, or maybe it’s just a heavy wood door without a window.
 Some of the old rooms still have those. They’re heavy and creaky and your daddy’s donations are eradicating them one by one.
Those big, heavy, creaky doors would do wonders for someone in need of privacy. As your eyes fall shut to blink, you’re met with a split-second snapshot of Luke nudging it open. 
After hours, after a day of tough lessons. Bradley all stressed with that red flush across his chest that he gets when stuff is really starting to get to him. Miss Penny, in her mysterious shroud of fog… perched against his desk— or worse— bent over it.
You swallow. 
“No you did not.” Abigail declares with a wrinkled face, not believing the dirty little story for a moment.
You would like to not believe it either. 
“Uh-huh. It was when I was TA’ing, I came by to drop off some papers. She was sat on his desk with her back to the door and he was just—“
“Gross, I don’t want to hear about Bradley getting his rocks off with the librarian.” Zoe complains.
The librarian. Miss Penny is the fucking librarian. She has permed hair and cat-eye glasses, a skirt shorter than faculty standard allows too. She made you pay eight dollars in late fees one time. She’s like a decade older than Bradley, maybe fifteen years. 
Your nose wrinkles as you turn your head to peer in the direction of the kitchen. Why her? Why—
“Alright, everybody ready to go?” Bradley has said his long goodbyes to the Gabris family, always wishing he got longer with them, even if Sandro did cockblock him this morning.
He climbs into the passenger seat as an awkward silence fills the van. Everyone takes their seats and stares ahead at him. He turns his head to peer back over his shoulder, frowning in confusion.
“What?”
“Nothing, man,” Luke answers coolly as Robin slides into the seat next to him. “You’re paranoid.”
Another time. Gotta go. You bet he was that casual with Miss Penny, too. With however many other women he might have been with. You set your headphones over your ears and turn toward the window. 
It’s ridiculous, maybe, to be jealous of women that knew Bradley far before you could ever stand to be in the same room as him. But this isn’t jealousy, per se. It’s something else. You don’t doubt that Miss Penny didn’t mean much to him, you just… were hoping that you meant more, maybe. 
The drive is short, and you’re piling into another old, crumbling hotel on the outskirts of Siena as the sun is just starting to set. You follow the crowd into the lobby and Bradley starts his normal routine of collecting the keys.
At first, you’re chatting with Zoe, and nothing feels different. Then, you catch something in your peripheral. Glancing down, your eyes widen and your train of thought ventures away.
“My ring.” You realise, setting your suitcase down on the faded carpet of the lobby. Bradley turns around, and finds you staring at your bare hand. 
“I don’t have my ring.” You haven’t worn that thing since the first day you got there. Bradley has noticed every single day that you haven’t had it. 
“What?” Pasquale frowns, looking between you and your hand.
“My engagement ring!” You snap at him. Everyone, at once, stops to look. Bradley stares at you. “I don’t— I must have left it! We have to go back.”
“Jesus Christ.” Luke scoffs, rolling his eyes as he drops down onto the couch. He figures he could be here a while, while you’re descending into hysterics.
After speaking to your father, Bradley figured he knows why you’re so upset. If you come home without that thing, he would give you the worst lecture known to man, or worse than that, even.
“I’ll call Sandro, and see—“ He takes two steps towards you, his face soft.
“No, I need to get it back. Now. We have to go back.”
“Mr. Bradshaw has a meeting here tomorrow, very early.” Pasquale chips in from beside you.
“I don’t care! I can’t believe I left it— Malcolm’s going to kill me if I tell him I don’t have it. What am I supposed to tell him? — That I took it off?”
You’re not thinking about your father, or getting into trouble with him. Bradley stops moving. You’re thinking about your fiancé. 
Bradley has been comforting you, and singing to you, and kissing you for a week straight — not once thinking that you might one day want to wear that ring again. 
This morning, he had been fooling himself on his run, thinking that this was anything more than fooling around. That he meant anything to you at all. That you understood him. 
He stares at you, finding none of those feelings he had thought you felt this morning. Or last night, or this whole past week.
Nothing but blind panic, because you weren’t smart enough to double check you had everything.
“Didn’t you?” Robin asks.
“Just for a second! I— I — didn’t mean to.” You struggle, eyes wide and fleeting between Bradley and Pasquale.
That’s not true. You took it off because he hurt you. You haven’t worn it in seven days. You didn’t even think about it this morning when you had packed your things, or before that when Bradley had been in your bed.
You’re growing agitated, and so is Bradley. A muscle in his jaw ticks. You meant to take off that ring, and maybe you can’t admit to yourself that you meant to leave it behind. 
“Maybe they could mail it—“ Pasquale tries.
“Do you seriously expect me to go home without it?” You’re looking at Bradley still, like this is his fault somehow. Like he’s the one who took it off of your finger. Your expression turns cold. “That ring is worth more than you make in a year!”
Bradley’s expression flattens. No hurt, no anger. Just pure detachment. He holds his hand out towards Pasquale.
“Give me the keys.”
“But, Bradley, you have—“
“Give me the fucking keys,” Bradley snaps. Zoe flinches at your side, and you feel her looking at you. Pasquale awkwardly drops the keys into Bradley’s open palm. “I’m going to get the ring, if it’ll shut her up.”
Your mouth closes, lips pressing firmly together. 
“I’ll—“
“You stay right there.” Bradley bites. He can’t think of anything worse than being stuck in a van with you for the next two and a half hours. Without looking, he squeezes the keys into his palm and heads for the door. 
With him gone, you’re the only thing for them all to look at. 
None of them knew exactly what was going on between you and Bradley this whole time, but they’re all certain of the same thing now: whatever it was, they all just witnessed the end of it.
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tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @cassiemitchele @himbos-on-ice @wkndwlff @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @cherrycola27 @kmc1989 @sugarcoated-lame @mshistorylover
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florencemtrash · 9 months
Text
Hummingbird: Chapter One
Miguel O'Hara x Reader
What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?
Masterlist
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You leaned back against the desk, ignoring the leftover smattering of paint as it seeped into your overalls, and checked the time. Miles’s face was stuck to the pages of his sketchbook, blue and red ink staining his cheek as he snored softly. One hand loosely gripped an open highlighter, the other dangled over the edge of his desk, half-eaten sandwich abandoned on the floor.
Twenty minutes. He’d been asleep for twenty minutes, and if you let him sleep any longer, he’d be late for fifth period.
You rapped your knuckles on his pencil case, the ringing tin jolting the teenager awake. Brown eyes flashed around the room, fists shooting out in an amateur boxing move as he tried to figure out why his spidey sense hadn’t warned him of any danger.
But there was no danger here. Nope, just Miss Y/l/n staring at him curiously from under raised brows.
“Wakey wakey, Miles,” You wore your usual pair of yellow Converse and paint-splattered overalls, the pockets hanging wide and loose after years of carrying around paint bottles, brushes, and books. The school board liked to complain about your “improper dress,” but at the end of the day you were one of the school’s only art teachers - and the most highly approved by students.
“Oh heyyyyy Miss Y/l/n.” He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck before dropping to the floor and snatching up his forgotten lunch. This was the fourth time you’d caught him sleeping in your classroom. Any more and you might actually have to start giving him detention. He tossed pens, snacks, and his sketchbook haphazardly into his bag, but not before you caught sight of a familiar blond-haired, blue-eyed girl smiling in front of a backdrop rioting with yellow, pinks, and blues more vibrant than a fireworks display. “GWEN!” the comic-style calligraphy called out next to her glowing face. Miles always seemed to be drawing her these days.
“You’ve still got five minutes left, calm down.” Miles straightened up to face you, clutching his lunchbox to his chest and smiling nervously. You folded your arms over your chest and stared pointedly at the gangly boy in front of you. With how much he’d grown over the last few months you wondered if one of his ancestors had been a garden weed. 
“You want to talk about what’s been going on, Miles?” 
“What do you-what do you mean?”
“You’ve been falling asleep in my class, this is the fourth time I’ve caught you napping here during lunch, and now I hear from Mr. Maloney that you’ve been skipping English.”
“He-he told you that?” He tugged at the collar of his shirt, hoping for a breeze to drift in through the window and save him from his nerves. He thought he’d been good about juggling the responsibilities of being a high-schooler and everyone’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. If his parents noticed anything different about him they chalked it up to teenage angst and grief over Uncle Aaron’s death. But someone had caught him slipping up.
You shrugged, “The teacher’s lounge exists, and people like to talk.”
“Oh…” he mumbled, shoulders dropping.
The dull ringing of the school bell cut through the silence, followed shortly by the rumblings of conversation as students filled the hallway, moving with the current like fish in a river.
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Listen, Miles, you’re not in trouble, ok?” Miles sighed in relief. “If you need to eat your lunch or just take a break in my classroom that’s fine with me. I just want to make sure you’re not trying to flunk out like last year.” 
He shook his head adamantly. He couldn’t - wouldn’t - drop out of Brooklyn Visions now. He had a plan for the future: go to Princeton, figure out multiversal traveling, and reunite with Gwen and Peter and the rest of the Spider-gang. Seemed simple enough… and totally doable…
“I promise that’s not the case, Miss Y/l/n.” The sincerity behind his words satisfied you.
“Alright Miles, but I’m keeping an eye on you,” You said dramatically, squinting your eyes and pointing at his chest. Miles snorted, mouth breaking open into a lopsided grin, “Now get out of here or Mrs. Cape will think I’ve convinced you to go to art school again.” 
“Yeah. Sorry about that. I just…”
“Yes, yes, you want to go study physics at Princeton,” you waved your hand in the air, tracing some invisible pattern in the sunlight before grabbing a wet wipe from your desk and tossing it to Miles, “Quantum mechanics, the multiverse, and all that stuff.” 
It wasn’t the first time he’d told you about his future plans, but the words that left his mouth had a tendency of flying over your head. The kid was too smart for his own good.
You paused and took a moment to look at Miles, to really look at him as he scrubbed away at the ink on his cheek, “Those Princeton schmucks would be lucky to have you.”
“Thanks Miss Y/l/n.” Again he gave you that crooked, boyish smile.
“Alright now out, out!” You shooed him towards the door, watching as he saluted you and flashed you one last smile before joining the crowd of students and disappearing around the corner.
You slipped back into your classroom, the smell of charcoal, dried paint, and pencil shavings settling into your lungs - sweet and comforting. There wasn’t an inch of space that wasn’t covered in some manner of artwork: sketches, paintings, collages… colorful graffiti that you should probably scrub out before parent-teacher conferences. Most of the pieces were the works of current students, but sometimes people like to leave things behind on purpose, trusting that you would find a place for them somewhere.
You wiped down the desks, rubbed the worst paint splotches from your overalls, and then collapsed into your chair, swiveling around and munching on the sandwich you’d picked up at the Prospect St. bodega. You had thirty minutes of peace and quiet before sixth period. 
That’s more than enough time. You thought to yourself. Maybe I’ll get some grading done and-
A head of curly black hair popped into the room, face wet and screaming with tears. You straightened in your chair as the boy’s lips thinned, then turned down. His shoulders began to tremble.
“He…He,” Hiccup, “He broke up with me, Miss Y/l/n.” 
“Oh geez,” you sighed deeply, setting your sandwich down and ushering the boy in. 
There were things you missed about being a teenager… the highs and lows of a first love were not on that list.
>>>
Saturday nights were sacred - the only time you reserved entirely for yourself. No grading, no reviewing and updating lesson plans, no agonizing over student reviews. You’d used to go out with old college friends for drinks on the weekend, but most of them had moved out of the city or gotten married and were doing married people things.
Is this what getting older is like? You wondered as you snuggled further into your couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders to keep out the chill. It wasn’t too terrible… albeit a little lonely.
The latest in a slew of cooking shows played out on the tv, throwing flashes of light onto the book-burdened coffee table and providing the background noise necessary for you to finally get your thoughts out of your sketchbook. But the moment you went to put the pen nib down, your mind went blank, and not in a good way. Every line looked wrong, the eyes of the figure looking bloated and misshapen. Time creeped by slowly, dragging you along for a ride as smooth as sandpaper.
 You knew the cause of your frustration, but knowing never made it better. It had been two months since Richard had moved out, two months and one day since you’d found out he was cheating on you with some grad student at NYU. 
Pendejo.
You’d hated his interior decorating, but now the blank spaces on the wall screamed his name. 
You tossed your sketchbook and pencil onto the ground and went to make a cup of tea. Maybe you were better off calling it a night and crawling into bed. Mid-year reviews had just ended and you had a long list of emails to reply to in the morning. One thing you hadn’t been expecting when you’d accepted this job was the number of parents who’d be on your ass about their kids getting a B in art - in art. 
The tea kettle was just about to open its mouth and start singing when a crash sounded from the living, followed by a sheepish “Whoops.” The muffled word punctuated Paul Hollywood’s critique of someone’s lemon tart - too stodgy.
Your blood ran cold as the stranger continued to mutter. 
“There goes another one. Wow there’s a lot of stuff on the floor.” Another one of your precious potted plants hit the ground with a dull crack. 
You grabbed the wooden bat from where it leaned against the wall, swinging it easily behind your head. At least there was one good thing Richard had left you with. 
You creeped out into the hallway, backing up towards the front door with your eyes trained on the shadowy figure making a mess of your living room. The figure fluctuated in and out of existence as he stumbled about the room, tripping over the piles of books and art supplies littering the ground. His body splintered outwards like cobwebs and twisted with flashes of bright light, haunting and inhuman. 
The creak of the floorboards gave you away. All at once the figure stopped and turned around to look at you. Where its face should have been was a single, flickering white spot, pulsing with curiosity as it tilted its head to the side. 
Mierda. 
You bolted towards the door… but he was already there.
“Why hello Mrs. O’Hara. Nice to finally meet you.” A thousand voices said at once.
You screamed and swung. 
The first swing missed, leaving a crater in the drywall. The second swing hit true, but the bat merely sunk into the black void of his body, some force ripping it out of your hands as you staggered backward. “Oh! Well that wasn’t very nice.” The creature laughed. 
Spindly tendrils of dark matter grabbed hold of you and you let out one final scream before the Spot swallowed you whole.
There was a momentary blindness and the sensation of falling before you were unceremoniously spit out onto a hard granite floor. You winced at the rough cut of broken glass beneath your heels, with nothing to protect you but a thin pair of socks. You looked upward and gasped. 
Where there had once been a towering glass ceiling dozens of stories high lay a gaping hole, the metal beams blown backwards into the night air like a blooming flower. It took you a moment to recognize the building, after all you’d seen it nonstop on the news for weeks last year - Alchemax.
What the hell?
Police tape criss-crossed over the debris like yellow spider webs, the scene broken up by black holes that morphed and twisted around you, pulsing with the same energy as the stranger in your apartment.
I must be dreaming. You thought. But in the back of your mind you remembered bits and pieces of what Miles told you he’d been studying over the summer - wormholes and spacetime and portals to different universes. 
You picked up a piece of metal off the floor, experimentally tossing it into one of the spots. It disappeared under the surface like pottery in slip before popping back into existence above you. You only narrowly lunged out of the way before it crashed into the ground and stuck there like a sword in a battlefield.
“Beautiful, isn’t it Mrs. O’Hara?” the Spot stepped out of a hole in the fabric of spacetime beside you. 
You jumped back, choking the scream in your throat. “That’s not-that’s not my name.” You managed to say. “Maybe you’ve kidnapped the wrong person?” A stupid hope.
“Oh? What is it then?” You said nothing, daring to lean down and pick up a jagged piece of roof panel. It might not do much, but it made you feel safer with its weight in your hands. “Well you don’t need to tell me. I just wanted to ask you a question.” He blipped out of existence, taking with him the darkness that pooled out of his skin.
“Who is Spider-Man?” the voices said as the Spot reappeared right beside you.
“You’ve got to stop doing that! Pendejo.” 
“What?”
“Just talk to me like a normal person.” You pointed the roof panel at him, keeping him at a safe distance.
“Who. Is. Spider-Man?” He stepped closer, the tip of your makeshift weapon sinking into his skin like he wasn’t even there. 
The question made you pause. That was what he wanted to know? He had kidnapped you just to ask about Spider-Man? 
“Um, I mean, he’s kind of the local superhero. Stops thieves, saves kittens stuck in trees, makes questionable brand deals at times-”
“NO! I know who Spider-Man is.” 
You blinked in confusion, eyes shifting to the side, “Then why did you kidnap me?”
“I want to know Spider-Man’s identity! His real identity.” The edges of his body sparked, shooting outward and striking the walls of the room. Dust and plaster fell to the ground like snow.
“I don’t-how the fuck am I supposed to know who Spider-Man is?!”
“You know him! The other version of you knew him!” 
“What, other me?”
“The alternate universe version of you!” He threw his hands up into the air like a petulant child. The darkness around him grew with every passing minute, crawling around on the floor and up onto the walls like a reptile looking for its next meal. He slid his hands down his face, somehow pulling at the ether he was made of as he muttered under his breath.
“Whatever, I may have miscalculated. You’ll still be important. Don’t you worry. You may not know who Spider-Man is, but Spider-Man sure knows you.”
Next chapter ->
>>>
Author's Note: so... I may have gotten carried away and written the second chapter as well... hope you enjoy!
Taglist: @geraskier-thots @howabouticallyou @sweetheartlizzie07 @dont-mind-me27 @omg-edzia-stuff @sarcastically-defensive17 @trouble-sistar @saltyluminaryvoid @lunablue001 @sadslasher13 @yas-v @thel0v3hashira143 @trishuh8 @vague-flying-shape @tiana76 @dinuxia-bhm @mxtokko @devilsrose666 @natbratty @zettoaizawa-shusband @dorck26 @notasadgirlipromise @niyanispunk @thecraziestcrayon @athenxt @imnotyourbcbe @jannajuju @lunamoonbby @elle-19 @aces148 @sseleniaa @elaineiswithyou-blog @summerli-u @rattlethemskulls @sunseekerlove @bubbabobabubbles @loonalockley @aleombre @littlelilies @07-bilin @nerdalicios @insanely-creative-things
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cryonme · 1 year
Text
𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐀𝐭 𝐔𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏
—graham dunne x fem!reader
—summary: the story of you and graham dunne was never simple, but his love for you never faltered.
— word count: 2.7k
—tw: addiction, implied drugging, alcohol, cursing, reader says she "doesn't wanna be here anymore", very obvious signs of mental illness, the works...
—a/n: so... I did not intend for this fic to be this long or this sad, but here we are. I'm breaking it into two parts so its easier to read, part two is coming shortly!! I apologize for how sad this is lol but I promise its a happy ending story! also, sorry for how I wrote daisy! she's my girl and I love her, it was just for the plot I swear! this is the first fic I've posted in about 6 months so im rusty, please be kind! and please, don't read if anything listed in the triggers is going to upset you, I want you all happy and comfortable! XO
(flashbacks in italics)
Nothing was ever Daisy’s fault, was it?
At least, that’s what Graham Dunne thought when he got a call from Karen saying his girl was wasted at a party with Daisy attached to your hip.
She should have known what you were struggling with, she should have known that you couldn’t handle a party, she should have known this wasn’t what you needed. Daisy Jones should’ve fucking known.
To be completely fair, they really all should’ve known. You’d been around since day 1. Everyone knew better, Daisy just happened to be the red corvette.
-
“You can’t keep doing this, my love.” Camilla whispered oh so gently, holding your hair back from your face, pressing a cold rag to your neck.
It was a small gig, at some shitty bar called Tony’s in Pittsburgh. The band always had a couple beers and maybe a shot or two before a show but you had begun to need more. You snuck vodka into your water bottles and begged the bartenders to sneak you a couple free extras by pulling your top down and leaning over the bar, using your forearms to push your tits up. 
It worked every time. Pigs.
“Can do whatever I want.” You slurred, cheek pressed to the toilet seat.
But damnit, you knew she was right.
Tony’s wasn’t the first time.
There was Rod’s, and The Ladie’s Room, and The Shiner Saloon, and some girl named Lisa’s 18th birthday party. It was becoming a pattern, everyone could tell.
You always went back to your house after a show. Your parents had been completely absent since you were 15, you never knew where they were. And after every show, their cars were never once in the driveway.
A safespace.
Billy would sit outside of the bathroom, head leaning against the door while Graham waited in the living room, arms crossed and head down, not wanting to listen to your cries and shakes of pain.
Eddie would retreat to the guest room, but he usually wouldn’t be able to fall asleep til he heard the click of your door next to his.
Warren would be passed out on the couch as soon as you all walked through the door, not that he didn’t care about you immensely, but the poor kid could just not stay awake if he was tired.
“I wanna go to bed.” You said.
Camilla sighed, “Are you sure you’re ready?”
You nodded and so did Camilla. She got up to get Billy like she always did, and he’d come and pick you up off of the bathroom floor, as he always did, and carry you to your room and lay you on the bed, letting Camilla make sure you’re comfortable, like she always did.
Graham would come in and ask how you’re doing, like he always did, and he’d make himself comfortable on your floor with throw pillows and spare blankets, like he always did.
But that night, after Tony’s, things changed.
“I can’t do this anymore, Graham.” You whimpered.
Fuck.
This was early days, Graham was still awkward as hell and didn’t know how to go about things like this.
“Do what?” He croaked, mustering up the courage to be there for you.
“This. I can’t live like this. I’m afraid I’m gonna kill myself.”
Graham was up in an instant, reaching for the doorknob. “Do you want me to get Camilla?”
You shook your head, “No, please. Just-” You wiped a tear from your cheek, “Will you just lay with me?”
“Anything.” Graham breathed as he settled into bed next to you. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, being too drunk to care about any awkwardness and Graham was thankful.
“We’ll get you out of this, promise.”
-
That was the last time anybody saw you drink anything besides a beer or two, following that was shirley temples and cherry cokes.
Nobody really knew the heaviness of addiction then, but they knew that you were happier, and that’s all that really mattered to them. You were even laughing at Warren’s jokes and Billy and Eddie’s lame bickering, everything felt okay.
“You don’t drink?” Karen had asked, the first time you properly met in California, while she was digging through the fridge searching for a beer. You shook your head, hoping you weren’t going to get some crazy reaction like you were a zoo animal in a cage like you got from most people.
She just nodded, a small smile playing at her lips as she pulled two coca cola bottles from the fridge, popping them open with her ring and handing you one.
“Cheers to that.”
You were sober enough to realize you were in love with Graham, and confident enough to tell him. And man, he could’ve exploded.
There was a celebration, at the house in Laurel Canyon, just the 7 of you.
Warren recalls later that Graham looked like he’d been dipped in sunshine and rainbows.
“Like he’d just smoked sunshine and been fucked by a rainbow. It was crazy, man.”
Well, almost.
You’d been around the band multiple times while they drank and it was never a problem. You’d have the first round of beers with them then tap out, but you always stayed and had fun, smoked a couple joints and cigarettes, never without a mocktail or coca cola in your hand. Sometimes, usually Karen or Camilla, someone would join you on the sober night, and that always felt really nice.
That night had felt different, you were scared.
-
“I’m gonna fuck him up Warren…” You said as you laid on the floor with the drummer as Down By The Seaside by Led Zeppelin played from the record player, Warren laughed.
“Yeah you are.” He said, his tone suggestive as he bumped his elbow with yours.
You rolled your eyes, fighting the heat creeping into your cheeks. “You know what I mean, man. I’m gonna ruin him.”
Warren had known you long enough and listened to enough of the songs you wrote to where he’d like to think he knew you pretty well.
And you never opened up out of the blue unless you were drunk.
“Have you been drinking?” He asked, not looking up from the ceiling. You scoffed.
“I still have a beer here and there, Warren.”
“You know what I mean, man.” He repeated your words back to you and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.
“I’m going to bed.” You said and stood up, trying your hardest not to stumble or slur.
“Honey…” Warren started, pushing himself off of the floor to try to stop you.
“NO!” You whipped around, flipping your hair so forcefully it stung your face but you were quick to pull it back.
“Don’t fucking- don’t fucking do that, man!” You started, holding a hand up. “My own friends don’t even fucking trust me i’m just constantly babied! Do you know how that feels?”
At that point, Karen, Eddie and Billy had tuned in, being in the kitchen. Camilla and Graham must have been elsewhere, he had always confided in her like a sister.
“Hey–” Billy tried to interject with a hand on your wrist but you were quick to pull away.
“Huh?! Do any of you know how that feels?!” You were borderline screaming now, and everyone was speaking to you so softly, hands slowly trying to grasp you and it made you want to scream even louder.
“How dare you ‘ccuse me of something like that asshole?” You were beginning to slur your words, the tequila you’d snuck from Warren’s room starting to hit pretty heavily, making your eyes droop and words slur.
“Baby, please-” Karen started, making the move to grasp your arm but you turned and lost your balance, nearly falling but Eddie was quick to catch you, he held on tight and didn’t dare let go until you calmed down or Graham came back. Billy had left minutes ago to find him and Camilla, who had taken a walk so he could freely gush about his new girl without the chances of anyone else hearing.
“Need you to calm down, babe.” Eddie whispered, running a hand up and down your arm for comfort.
“None of you even care!”
Warren shook his head alongside Karen, both of them had squatted in front of you, doing their best to provide what you needed.
“That’s not true.”
“I fucking hate you all!” 
“You don’t mean that.”
“I don’t wanna be here anymore!”
And then he said your name.
You froze.
He was gonna leave you, you were so sure of it. You worked so hard to be better for him and it didn’t work.
“No…” You whimpered and you swore you saw Graham break in front of your eyes.
“You can’t- you can’t see this.”
But he didn’t care. He knelt in front of you and Eddie and gathered you into his own arms, completely silent as he carried you to his room and you wanted to disappear into him so badly.
“‘M so sorry…” You slurred, and still he was quiet. You let him undress you and replace your pretty top and flared jeans with his own tee shirt and boxer shorts.
You watched as he changed into a similar outfit as you picked at your nails. “Graham, I-”
He sighed and placed his hands on either sides of your cheeks, placing a firm kiss on your forehead that only made you cry harder. You brought your hands up to grip his wrists, not willing to let go of the feeling of his lips on your skin.
“I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”
Graham was silent again as he pulled you into his bed with him, covering you both with the large duvet.
“Not in the slightest.”
-
That night was really the last night anybody had seen you get drunk like that.
Then, Daisy Jones came along.
And you learned how to keep bad habits a secret.
Tequila and mints in the bathroom, water and cherry cokes with the band. A shot of jameson to fall asleep. Champagne to wake up, brush your teeth. A beer in the shower after lunch, leave the evidence in Warren’s room since there were hundreds of empty ones anyway.
It’s not like Daisy was teaching you one on one, you just started watching her, and you liked the way she got away with it.
No one told Daisy about your issue either, you could hold your own and you had asked them not to, so lips were sealed.
But it took everything in Graham and Billy not to tell her to tread lightly every time they saw the two of you sneak off on your own.
And now here was Graham Dunne, sitting in the driver's seat of the van outside of God knows who’s house, with Camilla in the passenger’s seat and Billy in the back. Moral support. 
“Want us to come with you?”
Graham shook his head. “I need to do this alone.”
Billy scoffed, “I’m not gonna let you go in there with our two hot headed alcoholic rage sisters. Cam, you stay here.”
“Nope, you go I go. You two get our girl, I’ll handle Daisy.”
The three bickered a moment but finally settled on their plan. Graham and Camilla would take you, while Karen and Billy took Daisy, since the blonde girl drove.
“Fucking finally.” Karen exasperated as she saw her friends walk into the backyard of the party while trying her hardest to hold you upright.
“Where is Daisy?” Billy spat immediately, making eyes around the party. You had always been like a sister to him, in the way Camilla was to Graham, and he could’ve killed the redheaded girl in that moment.
“Beats me.” Karen said, passing off your deadweight into Graham, who was quickly supported by Billy. Your head lulled onto your boyfriend's shoulder, recognizing him as a source of comfort even in your inebriated state.
It made his soul ache.
“Is Simone here?” Camilla asked.
Karen shook her head, “Was. Split as soon as she and Daisy got into a fight. Offered to take this one” she nodded her head at you “home with her but I figured it’d be best if you guys came.”
Graham shook his head, “You made the right call, thank you.”
“Yeah, well uh, I sure as hell can’t drive. Got drunk as hell before even stepping foot in the backyard, soon as I saw (Y/n) I stepped in and called you guys immediately.”
“Do we need to get Daisy?”
“That’s a fight you sure as hell don’t wanna have. Yelled at me just for taking ‘her best friend’ away from her to get her some water.”
Billy rolled his eyes.
Graham and Billy began making their way out of the party with you slung around their shoulders, and Camilla walking arm in arm with a very drunk Karen who kept tripping over feet.
And suddenly red hair and sparkling eyes were in front of them.
“Ohhh no, what happened to my girl?” She tried to touch your face but Billy pulled you away, ready to say something before Graham spoke up, surprising everyone.
“Your girl, Daisy?!” His voice boomed, no doubt you’d be embarrassed if you were in any way conscious. “This is my girl, our girl.” He gestured to the rest of the group. “And I’d say it’s in your best interest to leave her the hell alone from now on.”
-
Graham was a mess when he got you home.
Daisy ended up at the house not too long after the rest, explaining she didn’t know the situation, apologizing profusely, informing them all you had been drinking for months. She told them in a sullen voice that you hadn’t been this bad last time she saw her, that she thinks someone must have done it to you.
Graham understood, he did. But he couldn’t look at Daisy. How could she let you out of her sight, to allow someone to do this to you? It made his stomach turn. Billy was next to his brother this time, in the living room, a hand resting on his shoulder, squeezing from time to time, and instead of standing Graham sat with his head in his hands, creating knots in his hair as he ran his fingers through it. Cam and Karen had you in the bathroom, after seeing the panic in Graham’s eyes they decided to take over that part, knowing it wouldn’t be easy for him to see. Warren stayed up, and Eddie didn’t retreat to his room, Daisy paced back and forth outside of the bathroom, biting her nails. Graham could hear it, it was driving him nuts.
“Would it kill you to be quiet for two seconds, Daisy?!” He groaned, running a hand over his red splotchy face.
Everyone knew that Graham was just upset and taking it out on Daisy, the red corvette, which wasn’t exactly fair, but they also knew better than to argue with Graham at that point.
“You know what, Graham?!” Daisy stomped into the living room, planting herself in front of the Dunne brothers with her arms crossed.
Graham didn’t look up.
“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you!” Daisy used her thumb and pointer finger to grip his chin and pull his face up to look at her and she immediately felt guilty at his tear stained cheeks and glassy eyes.
She sighed, and crouched before him.
“I know it’s hard, and I’m so, so sorry this is happening to her. But she makes her own decisions, Graham. No one could’ve stopped her.”
Graham nodded, but still wouldn’t look in her direction. “Will you go check on her, please?”
Daisy would later tell the story with a frown on her face, and she’d recall never being that scared for another person before, despite the smile she put on for Graham.
“I didn’t-” She took a breath, “I’d never seen it that bad before, at least not while I was sober. I thought she was going to die.”
Daisy retreated to yours and Graham’s shared room shortly after discovering she couldn’t stomach staying in that bathroom, deciding to make herself useful by getting the bed ready, fluffing the pillows and retrieving some fresh clothes for you to wear to bed, making sure she grabbed ones that smelled like your boyfriend. She dropped the clothes off in the bathroom, and passed along the message to Graham from Karen and Camilla that it was time to take you to bed.
This had been Billy’s job, since before The Six was even The Six, that’s how it went. But things had changed, Graham had grown, and it was his turn.
part two coming soon!
1K notes · View notes
pablitogavii · 8 months
Note
Idk if you have done this but can you do Gavi having his wisdom teeth removed? And then he like forgets he has a girlfriend alr and hits with her (reader) 😭 Gracias!
Since Pablito had a toothache, let's do this! hehe
Tooth Aches
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You waited for Pablo when he landed from his trip to Getafe greeting some of his friends and coaches as well. Team doctor walked up to you with a bag and you looked at him curiously.
"Can you please make sure he takes these if his tooth continues to hurt? Also, make him see a dentist soon?" man said and I nodded taking the bag and thanking him for the help.
Pablo was always so stubborn when it came to going to any kind of doctors. He would never admit it, but you knew he was just scared and wanted to avoid it at all costs.
"Hola amor" Pablo came shortly after with a little cotton ball in his mouth and you thought he was so adorable whenever something was hurting him.
"Hola cariño..you have a tooth ache precioso?" you coo touching his cheek gently and Pablo quickly shakes his hand saying it's nothing serious before kissing you lips.
When you arrived home, and Pablo took a shower you noticed that he wasn't even touching his dinner. This was very strange since after the game as intense as this one, he could eat like both of you combined.
"If your tooth hurts, I can give you the medication so you can eat cariño?" you ask but the moment you mentioned it he took a big bite clearly uncomfortable while chewing.
"I'm just..not hungry. Can we cuddle when you're done?" he said and you smiled nodding your head knowing that arguing with him when he was this stubborn isn't going to solve anything.
When you were done, you joined him on the couch and he pulled you close wrapping his strong arms around your body and resting his head on your shoulder. Whenever Pablo was in pain, he would be so cuddly and soft. You started playing with his hair until he got sleepy and you both went to bed.
You were woken up by some noise coming from the kitchen so you wore your robe and went to see what Pablo was doing.
"Cariño? Que haces? It's two in the morning??" you said after yawn escaped your lips and he looked at you guilty while holding some ice in his hand.
"I'm just..um..getting water..go back to bed guapa" he said but you knew very well when your boy was lying. The pain surely woke him up!
"Pablo, it's just a tooth ache amor..and there is medication that can help. Why don't you just take it huh?" you walk up to him seeing that he tried to numb the pain with ice instead.
"B..because..when they gave it to me before the game, it tasted gross! And if I take it, you will make me go to the dentist!" he was whinny like a child and you smiled shaking your head and taking ice from his hands.
"You remember how I always listen to you when I'm sick?" you say touching his cheek and he whimpered clearly in a lot more pain than before.
"Mhm..but you always listen to me princesa!" he smirked and you found it amazing that he was still dirty minded even when he was in this much pain.
"So can you listen to me just this once? Please cariño?" you say giving him puppy dog look and he sighed knowing he could not win this when you were using these methods against him.
"Just give me the stupid medication!" he said rolling his eyes and you jumped grabbing it and giving him the pill and some water. When he took it, you took him back to bed and played with his hair to distract him while the medication starts working.
"That better cariño??" you ask after a few minutes but didn't hear anything but a soft snores coming from your boy who was sleeping peacefully on your chest making you smile down and kiss his head.
"My stubborn angry bird.." you whisper before getting comfortable yourself and falling asleep.
"Pablo, we have dentist appointment today!" you yell from the bedroom when he got up to get ready for the training.
"Can we just do it another day amor? I wanted to take you to dinner tonight" he said and you giggled at his attempt to bribe you. You walked to where he was in the closet shirtless and very yummy. You can't get distracted!
"You're cute trying to avoid this, but I care about you so we are having our date tonight at the dentist office" you say kissing him lips and he whimpers since his tooth was very much aching still.
"Let's put the cotton ball before you leave, and you can take it out when the training starts?" you say and despite him shaking his head protesting to cooperate you brought it from the kitchen. He was now already in his training kit ready to leave.
"Open up" you say and he smirks looking down at you making you blush knowing exactly what he was thinking about..little devil!
"Pablo!" you say and he nods opening his mouth for you to put the cotton ball in against his cheek making it bulge out a little which in turn made you smirk..you couldn't help it.
"Not fun being in my shoes huh?" you tease making Pablo blush trying to tell you to shut up but couldn't so you both laughed instead.
When you got a call from one of the staff, you knew it couldn't be good news. Pablo was in lots of pain so they asked that you come pick him up which you quickly did driving straight to the dentist despite his winning.
"I'm not arguing with you anymore Pablo! You are so pale and almost fainted form pain. We are going right now!" you say and he just stayed silent letting you help him inside playing with his shirt out of nervousness.
You caught on this little habit of his grabbing his hand in your reassuringly. He smiled nodding his head and resting it on your shoulder since it was pouding from pain in his tooth.
"Pablo Gavira?" doctor said and we both went inside. Pablo sat on the chair and I asked the doctor to hold his hand the whole time which he agreed on.
"Looks like wisdom teeth. We should remove them especially because of the job you do. It's a lot less dangerous" doctor explained and Pablo looked at you with tearful eyes but you gave him a reassuring smile.
"You will sedate him right doctor?" you ask and man nodded easing Pablo's nervousness.
"You will go to sleep and wake up really quick. Everything will be done and you will never have this kind of pain again" man said and Pablo smiled weakly nodding his head. You were really proud of him for being brave right now.
"I will sit right here amor, the whole time , I promise" you say and he nods puckering his lips and you blush seeing the doctor turn before you kissed him.
"Alright, champion. Let's do this. Your girl will wait for you right here" doctor said before adding sedation and Pablo slowly fell asleep while you sat down on the chair getting out of their way.
"Morning cariño.." you said when he finally opened up his eyes that were still foggy from anesthesia. Doctor warned you about the symptoms for the first few hours but said everything went smoothly.
"Díos..mio..y..you..are..g..gorgeous..h..hi" he was mumbling and blushing almost as much as during your very first date.
"Thank you, cariño" you said kissing his forehead which made his face even more red before you sign off some paperwork and took the wheel chair to get him tot he car.
When you sat him down and went to the driver seat, you felt his hand reaching to touch your face so you turned around.
"Oh my god...you're fucking gorgeous!" he said again and you smiled blushing yourself now. He was way too adorable.
"Thank you.." you say giggling
"A..are you..um..my uber?" he asked and you burst out in laugher now shaking your head kissing his hand that was still on your face.
"No..I'm your girlfriend cariño" you say and his eyes opened wide when he heard you say that.
"Oh my god! I scored!! You..you're fine as fuck!" he said and you couldn't stop giggling at how forward he was. Pablo was never much of a talked but now was a different story.
"I love you?" you smile and his cheeks blushed caressing your cheek now.
"I love you! I um..I wanna tell my sister about you..cause..you..you're fine as fuck!" he grabbed his phone while you giggled and drove him home.
"H..hola! Um..I have a girlfriend..d..did you know that?" Pablo was mumbling to Aurora's very confused face.
"Are you drunk Pablo!?" she asked knowing that her little brother doesn't drink but not really having a better explanation.
"I..don't..drink.." he started laughing and you asked him to show your face so you can talk to a very confused girl on another line.
"Hey Rora, He got his wisdom teeth out today. That's why he sounds drunk" you say and she starts laughing now as well. Pablo turned the phone so that your face was in it again.
"I'm not drunk! And I have a girlfriend! Look! She's fine as hell!" he said and Rora laughed together with you at the way he was just staring with heart eyes at your face.
"Yes you do! I don't know how she deals with you honestly" Rora said and Pablo pouted putting the phone on his lap forgetting about Aurora and looking at you.
"How you deal with me g..guapa?" he said and you giggle finally parking into your garage.
"Because I love you so much! Come on, let's go home. Say bye to Rora" you say and he does so hanging up and letting you help him into the house and resting him on the couch.
"Um..can I w..watch a game?" he asks like child would to his mother and you nodded giving him the remote before bringing some water in case he got thirsty and sitting next to him. When you tried to hold his hand he jumped moving back and shaking his head quickly.
"No! I have a girlfriend! Don't touch me!" he said and you burst out in laughter which confused the poor boy. You did like to see your man loyal like this tho.
"Amor..I am your girlfriend" you say and he turns a little to look into your eyes holding your face inspecting it for every little detail.
"So..I..can..be..inside..of..you..right..now?" he said and your eyes opened wide while your hand went to his mouth to shut him up. Pablo was never this direct before and it was shocking but also very much funny!
"W..what?? Let..me..be..inside..of..you..preciosa!!!" he moved trying to kiss your neck but you pulled away still giggling at his request reminding him that he needs to recover first and hold the cold compress for a few hours at least.
"Um..o..okay..but after..I wanna..be..inside..of..you" he said while yawning and moving to lay on your stomach and you chuckled nodding your head and starting to play with his hair gently.
The next morning, Pablo wouldn't believe the whole story when you told him about his little 'request' at night.
"I did not say it like that!" he said and you giggled at his shy face and blushed cheeks moving closer and kissing his lips.
"You were so cute, but I'm glad you are back to normal cariño" you say and he smiled kissing your head and pulling you into a tight hug already feeling much better.
"Thank you for taking care of me..and making me go to the dentist amorcito" he said while you cuddled and you smiled nodding your head and looking up into his warm brown eyes.
"You're welcome, cariño!" you said and you both kissed sweetly continuing to enjoy your lazy day together.
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skzfairyy · 7 months
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12:52am
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Pairings: Lee Yongbok x reader!
Genre: fluff
Warnings: wholesome cuddles from Felix :”)
Wc: 604 words
AN: Something about gamer Felix never fails to bring a smile to my face :') - Y2
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The soft clicking sounds of the controller echoed lightly through the living room, shortly followed by small grunts of frustration. It was late at night, and Felix had been stuck on this game for almost four hours. Long enough for his girlfriend to fall asleep on the couch behind him. Y/N coming over late at night wasn’t a big surprise for any of his housemates. The pair usually snuggled watching a movie or played video games together late into the night. 
He had started a new game and was trying to reach a certain level so he could unlock a new skin for his avatar. At first, Y/N was watching her boyfriend play attentively, but at some point, her eyes began to droop as she watched him play in content silence, and instead of fighting it, she let the sleep overtake her. Her body was sprawled across the couch, snuggling her face into a pillow that should’ve been Felix.
His avatar was finally getting the best of his opponent, intensifying the clicking sounds up until he finishes, killing the boss and leveling up in the game. Raising his arms up in triumph with the largest smile on his face, he turns around and sees his girlfriend fast asleep in dreamland. The sight of her sleeping face had put a damper on his mood, his smile fading as he remembers that Y/N came to the dorms because she wanted to spend time with him and instead, he basically ignored her because of that stupid game.
Letting out a soft sigh, he turns off the console and removes his headphones. Standing up from the floor, he approaches the couch quietly.
“You should’ve just told me to turn the game off…” his voice whispers to her sleeping frame. He leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and wraps his arms around her frame. As if on autopilot, her arms lock around his neck, quickly pulling him towards her.
He shakes his head, chuckling to himself at her reflexes, which seem quicker while she’s asleep, and slides an arm around her waist and the other under her legs to lift her up from the couch.
Y/N’s eyes open slightly as she feels herself being carried by who she can only assume is her boyfriend. 
“Did you level up?” Her voice is groggy, and her face is pressed in the crook of Felix’s neck, where he can feel the soft vibrations of her voice as she speaks. 
He nods his head and uses his foot to push his bedroom door open.
“You could’ve asked me to stop…” He responds, moving to place her on his bed.
“But I like watching you play, baby.” She responds quietly, her arms falling to her sides as Felix joins her shortly after, snuggling close to her side.
With that pet name, Felix could feel the frustration he held for himself disappear. 
“Okay Angel, it’s late now, we should sleep.” His argument was dying in his mind as his own body registers how tired he actually is.
He pulls her closer, burying his face into her neck, and kisses her collarbone softly. Y/N’s hands rub his back gently as her sleepy eyes begin to droop once more. This is what she was waiting all day for. Sure watching him play his video games with such intensity and focus was entertaining, but nothing beats the feeling of falling asleep in her boyfriend’s arms. She’ll stay up all day watching Felix try to kill mythical monsters online if it ends like this, wrapped in each other's arms to sleep the rest of the night away.
masterlist ||
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kaziwi · 10 months
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Accidentally holding his hand <3
Character(s): Zoro
WC: 667
Summary: You have to go looking for Zoro after he goes wandering in the woods
Note: i love zoro sm omg
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It was around noon when you and your crew, the strawhats, arrived at a new island.
Everyone decided to go explore while you, Zoro, and Usopp stay behind and watch the ship. Nami made sure to tell you and Usopp to watch Zoro and not let him wander at all costs. You both assured her you wouldn't let him out of your sights....
You were feeling a little drained, so you told the two boys that you were going to take a short nap :P
A short nap turned into 3 hours....whoops 8)
You woke up to the sounds of Usopp panicking.
You went on deck and asked him what was wrong. He explained in a panic that shortly after you fell asleep, Zoro insisted on going on a walk.
Usopp tried to warn him against it, knowing Zoro would get lost, but Zoro brushed him off and went anyways. That was 3 hours ago, and Zoro could be who knows where.
You told Usopp that you would go in the forest and get him back before anyone (Nami specifically) realized he was gone.
You walked on a dirt path yelling Zoro's name throughout the forest. As you went deeper and deeper into the woods, it started to get more dark and scary. You wrapped your arms around yourself in a sorta self-hug and continued to call out for Zoro. Every small sound made you jump which caused you to walk even faster and not look where you were going.
You swore you heard something so you turned to look at your right, but kept walking forward...causing you to trip over something. You turned and looked over at what you tripped over, and it seemed to be...a leg???? Your eyes followed the leg up to the owners face, and it turns out the leg you tripped over was a sleeping Zoro's.
"Zoro! I've been looking for you for forever," you shout at him, playfully hitting him on the shoulder. Zoro cracks one eye open and looks at you.
"Oi (Y/N), what are you doing here?"
"LOOKING FOR YOU!!!"
After a bit of bickering, you were able to get Zoro up and started to lead him back to the Sunny. Your walk through the forest was far from pleasant as the small sounds and dark atmosphere started to get to you again. You jumped at the slightest sound, which didn't go unnoticed by Zoro.
Just then, a rustle came from the bush beside you, and you jumped towards Zoro, grabbing his hand in the process. Zoro was shocked by the sudden touch that it caused him to stumble back, causing you to both fall on the forest floor.
Out from the bush a small bunny crawled out and then scurried away. You both watched it run away before Zoro started laughing, "You were really scared of that little thing," he said in between laughs. You playfully hit him and you both got up, not letting go of each others hands.
You both kinda stared at each other awkwardly after that until he said, "So...are you gonna let go of my hand?"
You looked down at your intertwined hands and your face became red. Zoro smirked at this, but when you started to pull your hand away, he grabbed it even firmer.
"Actually....it might be better if you hold on to me, just so I don't wander off again," Zoro said with a slight pink to his cheeks.
The walk back started a bit awkward, but after a little you both got used to each others touch and walked with ease. The small sounds of the forest didn't bother you anymore because you knew Zoro was there to protect you. By the time you got back 2 hours had already passed, and as you approached the ship you could hear a angry Nami yelling at Usopp. You and Zoro both knew you were going to face her rath, but honestly you didn't care as your hands stayed locked.
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luvymelody · 2 months
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NAME : gojo satoru , jujustu kaisen
SONG : me and your mama , childish gambino
SUMMARY : gojo satoru has been your bodyguard for ages, he's nearly your age, only 1 year older. your father insists that gojo is there around you for your safety.
(non like magic world au/no jujustu sorcerers au)
y/n honestly weren't very sure of what business her father did.
he had tons money, crazy rich. the house she lived in was gigantic and she had been living it in since she were born. she was 19 now, still living in her childhood home as her father has insisted her to.
to the plus side of being rich, there would always be some bodyguard in her sights. like always, the only reason she wouldn't is in her bedroom or bathroom, but even then, they would stand outside, waiting patiently for her.
y/n had a personal bodyguard, been there since she were 12, gojo satoru. he was her favourite. he was fairly cute and the two of them really had a connection.
he'd even let her sneak out when she were 15 sometimes, but he would always be with her, he looked out towards the busy streets while she bought food from the midnight vendors, smiling at her while he ate along with her.
he listened to her whenever she needed a good cry and he held her in his arms, stroking her head as he switched his radio off behind her back, not wanting to leave her.
he'd let her play with his hair while he sat cross-legged and she sat on his lap, doing whatever she wanted as she applied makeup to his face and slapping his cheek lightly as he blinked from the mascara she were putting on his white eyelashes.
he stood behind the wall as she argued with her father about wanting to leave, shortly after when she were storming off and away, he was a corner away, tucking her into his arms as tears rolled down her face.
-
satoru had a soft spot for y/n, being introduced to her when she was 12 and he was 13.
"gojo, meet y/n. y/n meet gojo satoru."
gojo was a bit taller than y/n. he had his hands behind his back but was picking at his nails behind his back.
y/n was standing next to her father, smiling widely,
"hi gojo!"
"hi y/n."
after that, gojo would linger around her presence more, y/n's father was friends with gojo's father, which led to gojo's father leading y/n's father some of his own men, including his son. gojo's father was more than happy to led his own flesh and blood, gojo's father hoped that the young boy and girl would get closer.
gojo helped her with her homework, seeing as he was in a higher grade level and he already knew the material. he helped her choose out what she wanted to wear to school, even if it was a private academy and she had a uniform, she was allowed to wear simple makeup and accessories. he really liked it when she wore the white clip.
school got too dangerous, without y/n's knowledge, she was pulled out of school, going into homeschooling, tutors for each subject as satoru sat beside her for help.
it was late, y/n's father was out doing business and satoru and y/n were sat on the dining table as she was finishing homework from her english tutor.
she was 15, her chin on her hand as her elbow rested on the table and her free hand spinning a pen, satoru was beside her, looking at her, noticing her hands spin the pen, watching her her eyelashes closed and reopened slowly, as if she was tired. she was tired, her head bobbing up and down.
"you can go to sleep if you want, y/n. let's do your skincare routine."
"wait- lemme finish the questions first.."
"you're gonna fall asleep before you do sweetie."
"no i won't, satoru.."
"sure you won't."
satoru silently crossed his arms, leaning back onto the chair as y/n crossed her arms on the table and rested her head on them, looking at the papers infront of her.
her eyes slowly came to a close eventually, and satoru heard the soft, quiet snores and satoru chuckled. he stood up, moving her position to hold her under her thighs as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs hanging mid air next to his as he stood straight up.
"told 'ya you'd fall asleep."
"shh.."
she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck and yawned in his ear, he put one hand underneath her, under her butt to the side of her hip and one hand on her lower back.
he walked to her room, moving his head to signal to the bodyguard to open her door as he walked to her bathroom, sliding the door open and sitting her on the counter.
"just stay sitting up for me pretty, i'm doing your skincare."
-
y/n had brought satoru into her bathroom while she did her skincare night routine sometimes, so he knew the basics on what she did. she wanted to gossip about the girls in her school while she patted her skin with essence.
"she even put food in her locker and it got moldy because she didn't know it was there! like who does that?"
satoru was leaning on the door to prevent anyone from getting in, his arms crossed while nodding and watching her actions.
"yeah, who does that?"
-
eventually he finished, laying her down on her bed as she gingerly tucked her head into her pillow deeper, hugging herself with her blanket. satoru silently left the room, going back to the dining room table to pick up the homework and supplies, bringing it back to y/n's room.
he ended up doing her homework as he felt bad, making it slightly into y/n's handwriting, a little bit messier than her normal handwriting.
he finished, standing up and walking to y/n's bed who was sleeping, just to check on her. he crouched next to her, kissing the back of her hand that laid on the side near the edge.
"goodnight y/n."
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