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honeypiehotchner · 3 years

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That’s When (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part three of Bye Bye, Baby

Part three has arrived! Guys, this was so much fun to write and this part made me so weepy. Thank y’all so much for reading <3

Loosely based on “That’s When” by Taylor Swift ft. Keith Urban xx

Summary: Juliet wants to meet Aaron, so you set it up. Things go better than you were expecting.

Warnings: angst, happy ending!

Word count: 3.7k this time EYE

Bye Bye, Baby (part one) || Don’t You (part two) || Hotch Masterlist

You said, “I know,” when I said I need some time, need some space/to think about all of this

You pour the coffee Aaron got you down the drain. You took maybe two sips on your way home.

Juliet is still with Dannie, but she’s on her way now to drop her off. And once Jules is asleep, you’ll be filling Dannie in on everything.

Easier said than done, because Juliet all but refuses to fall asleep.

“Munchkin,” you sigh. “You have school tomorrow.”

“M’not tired.”

You give her a look.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?” She asks out of nowhere. “You look sad.”

“I’m okay, baby,” you whisper, even though you nearly start crying. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“French toast for breakfast?”

You chuckle, tapping her nose gently. “French toast. You got it.”

“Love you bunches,” she murmurs, already falling asleep.

You lean over and kiss her forehead. “Love you, munchkin.”

Juliet keeps her eyes closed as you stand and turn off the light, and you don’t doubt that she’s fast asleep by the time you pull her door closed.

Dannie is waiting on the couch, two glasses of wine already poured.

“You know me too well,” you laugh, taking your glass from her. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, it’s your wine,” Dannie grins.

“Right.”

Dannie watches you stare at your wine. Something you never do.

“How’d it go?” She asks. “It looks like it went bad.”

You snort. “Well, it wasn’t great.”

You watched me go/And I knew my words were hard to hear

“Oh boy.” Dannie shifts her body and faces you on the couch, her legs bent underneath her. “Go on.”

“His first question was if she’s his.”

Dannie scrunches her nose in disgust, an expression Jules has picked up from her. “What did you say?”

“That she’s mine, but he is her dad,” you exhale shakily. “I forgot she has his dimples, too.”

Dannie smiles sadly. “Honey…”

“Yeah, it was bad,” you admit. “It was so easy to forget all of that when I was angry and when I was too busy being pregnant,” you joke. “Seeing him just opened that door again.”

You swirl your wine for a second. “He said he wants to meet her. I told him I’d have to ask her first.”

“That’s good,” Dannie nods.

“How do I even bring that up?” You ask, defeated. “And what if she says no?”

“Then she says no,” Dannie shrugs her shoulders. “Then life goes back the way it was.”

You take in a deep breath. “Is it wrong that I kind of want her to say no?”

“I think that’s very motherly of you,” Dannie smiles. “You’ve protected her so well, I hope you know that.”

“I’ve tried.” You take a big sip of wine before your next sentence. “He asked me for a second chance.”

Dannie blinks. “Seriously?”

You nod.

“Did you tell him about the phone calls? He’s ignored you this whole time and now just because he realized he’s a father, he wants a second chance?” Dannie scoffs loudly. “Maybe I want her to say no, too. I hate men.”

You nearly inhale your wine in laughter. “You and me both.”

+++

As it turns out, bringing up Aaron to Juliet is easy. She asks you the next night why you still look sad, and you use it to bring him up.

“I’m not sad, munchkin, I’m just thinking really hard about something.”

Juliet furrows her eyebrows. “What?”

You slide off the couch to sit on the floor next to her where she’s coloring a picture of Elsa. “Remember how I told you that your dad and I don’t talk anymore?”

It was the easiest way to explain Aaron’s absence when Juliet started to ask about it. It was hard to think about because you and Aaron were never married, he didn’t die, and to make matters worse, he had no idea Juliet existed.

She nods, picking up a blue marker. “Yeah, you said adults have to stop talking to each other sometimes.”

“That’s right,” you nod. “Sometimes it’s better for us if we don’t speak. But sometimes, after a while, we can start talking again.”

“Okay.”’

“Well, your dad and I have started talking again,” you pause. “And he said he’d like to meet you. But only if you want to.”

Juliet thinks for a moment, then shrugs, switching to an orange marker. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” You ask, just to be sure. “Where do you want to go?”

“I can pick?”

“Sure can. Wherever you want.”

“Hmm,” she taps her chin for emphasis, and you try hard not to laugh. “What about McDonalds in the park?”

It’s a somewhat tradition of yours to get McDonalds, then go to her favorite park and have a picnic. It’s one of her favorite things to do, so you should’ve known.

“I love that,” you smile. “What about this Saturday?”

“Mhm!” She nods. “Can Dannie come, too?”

“I’ll ask her, but I don’t see why not.”

Juliet is completely satisfied with this answer and goes right back to coloring Elsa.

You chuckle quietly. Kids.

+++

It’s almost noon by the time you get Juliet in the car. And surprisingly, you were the one running behind today. Juliet was ready and sitting on your bed, watching you get dressed before you had even done your hair.

Now, though, you’ve picked up Dannie, and the three of you are headed to McDonalds.

Juliet hasn’t mentioned meeting Aaron once this morning, but she has talked about McDonalds at least four times now.

“How are you holding up?” Dannie asks while Juliet is occupied singing along to ‘Let It Go.’

“Nervous,” you admit quietly. “Thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t turn down McDonalds any day,” Dannie scoffs, then turns around to Juliet. “Are you excited?”

Listening to the two of them ramble makes you smile wide, and the drive to the park feels infinitely shorter.

You told Aaron you’d text him when you get there, so he can come over. He said he’d already be there, but for what reason you have no clue.

All you care about is setting out the blanket and getting Juliet to eat her food before she plays with her new Frozen toy.

Truthfully, you’re expecting him to text you and say he called on a case. Not that you blame him because you’ve been there, the BAU is unpredictable like that. But you wouldn’t be surprised.

However, you are surprised when Aaron jogs over.

Yes, jogs.

In shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers, with sweat clinging to his hair, he jogs over. And you lose all semblance of reality. There’s cotton in your mouth. Good fucking god, he looks good.

“When the hell did you start running?” It's the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and it’s complete word vomit.

Juliet gasps dramatically. “Bad word, Mommy.”

Dannie tries and fails to hold in her laugh.

“You’re right,” you chuckle. “Bad word.”

Aaron, with a smile, answers your question. “The BAU is having a triathlon. I’m training for it.”

“When is it?” You ask without entirely meaning to. You hate how easily you fall right back into conversation with him, how easily he makes you dumbfounded just by his looks.

“In a few weeks, so I’ve got some time,” he breathes. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head, scooting over. “Here, I got some nuggets.” You ordered enough for the two of you to share, mostly to save money, but now you’re realizing the implications of it.

You don’t have time to think about that, though, because Juliet has been staring at Aaron for a few moments.

“Munchkin?” You ask. Dannie nudges Juliet’s arm.

“Didn’t you hit us in the grocery store?”

Dannie bursts into laughter then, unable to control it this time, and thankfully, Aaron laughs, too.

“I did,” he nods. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Aaron,” Juliet says, going right back to her nuggets, sandwiching fries in between two pieces of chicken.

His eyebrows raise and he looks at you.

All you can do is shrug. “She forgets nothing.”

From there, lunch is...uneventful.

Juliet is more focused on playing than she is talking to Aaron, but thankfully, she doesn’t seem upset by him being here.

Dannie asks him a couple questions, mostly standard ones. “What’s the BAU like? I bet the hours suck. You’re unit chief, too, right?”

Aaron answers everything politely, and seems mostly at ease.

After a while, you begin to relax, too.

You have no choice, really, when Juliet feels comfortable to ask questions like, “Are you really my dad? Why weren’t you talking to my mommy?”

Aaron handles the questions like a pro. “I am. Your mom and I needed some time to ourselves, so that’s why we weren’t talking.”

“Adults are weird,” she says, but she seems satisfied with his answers and even hands him her Olaf toy. “I’m gonna go swing.”

Aaron chuckles and sets Olaf in the shade of his leg. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t melt.”

Juliet tilts her head. “He’s a toy, he won’t melt.”

This time you’re the one incapable of holding in your laughter.

“Dannie, come on!” Juliet yells out, giggling when Dannie nearly trips over her feet to stand up.

As they run off, you start picking up Juliet’s trash and stuffing it back in the bag.

“Here, I’ll run it over to the trash can.”

You turn your head to Aaron with a smirk. “You’ll run it over there? Promise?”

He gives you a look.

He doesn’t actually take it over to the trash can because he goes completely still, then says, “She has my eyes.”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah. She does. Your dimples, too.”

He smiles. “Thank god she got your nose, though.”

“What?” You whip your head around. “She has your nose.”

“She does not,” he argues. “And as I said, thank god.”

“Oh, shut up, I love your nose.”

His smile is never-ending. “Really?”

You move on from it quickly. “Thanks for meeting us today.”

“Thank you for letting me.”

You nod slowly, deciding to blurt out what’s been eating at you. “You know, if— If you’re doing this just to get a second chance with me, please don’t.”

“I’m not.”

“Because I don’t need that kind of stress, and Juliet doesn’t either—”

I said, “I know,” when you said I did you wrong/made mistakes, and put you through all of this

“Y/N,” Aaron’s hand rests gently on your arm, getting your attention. He lifts it when you stop talking. “I’m not. I’m doing this because I want to be a part of her life, as her dad. I wasn’t there for her, or you, and I’m sorry. I just want to make it right. Let me make it up to you — to her.”

You stare at him closely, watching. “You mean that?”

He nods. “I do. And I’m so sorry my actions in the past made you think differently of me.”

“I just don’t want her to get hurt,” you murmur. “She’s my baby.”

“I know,” Aaron says. “I know.”

+++

Co-parenting with Aaron is surprisingly easy. Or maybe he makes it easy.

Every Saturday, you and Juliet meet him in the park for a picnic lunch after he’s done training for the triathlon. Sometimes you get there early — which happens nearly every week as Juliet becomes more eager to see him — and you get to cheer Aaron on as he finishes his run.

Dannie comes sometimes, but the few times that she hasn’t have been just as pleasant.

Aaron keeps his word. He does this to spend time with Juliet as her dad, and he doesn’t make any advances on you. The two of you don’t even hug at the end of the afternoon, but Juliet has taken to running and jumping in his arms.

She’s growing more and more attached to him every week, and you hate the dread that you feel. So far, you’ve been lucky. Aaron’s cases have been during the week, so he hasn’t missed a single Saturday — yet.

It’s one of the reasons you are grateful for your transfer at the time four years ago. If you had been in as unpredictable of a job as the BAU when you were pregnant, or when Juliet was born, you have no idea how you would’ve done it. Your job now is a perfect 8 to 5, sometimes 6, but that’s only been a handful of times in the past four years.

Juliet is used to you being there every day. And now, she’s getting used to seeing Aaron every week. You’re just bracing yourself for the time when he has a case and won’t be able to make it.

You try not to think that far ahead, but you can’t help yourself. You were once an agent under him. You know just how crazy the BAU can get. You know exactly what to expect when it gets busy.

Which is why you don’t understand the feelings that are growing inside of you.

You told him he wasn’t getting a second chance — at least not right now. Because you don’t have it in you, and you don’t want to do that to Juliet if it doesn’t work out.

But that was before things started working out.

And you said, “When can I come back?”

Before he never missed a single Saturday. Before he insisted on a birthday dinner when he realized her birthday was a few months ago. Before she started running into his arms. Before he started lifting her up and spinning her around, listening to her giggles as she squealed, “Mommy! I’m flying!” Before she fell asleep on the blanket in the park, and he moved over to shield her from the sun, all while still talking to you.

Now, you don’t know what to do. It sounds awful, but you didn’t expect him to prove himself this well.

You’ve always loved him. That is easy enough to recognize and admit. But you never imagined feeling this way again.

“Mommy?” Juliet pushes your bedroom door open a little.

You sit up, patting your bed. “Good morning, munchkin. C’mere.”

She climbs into bed and right to your side, and you spread the blanket over her, letting her snuggle into your side.

After a moment, you think she’s asleep, but then she whispers, “Are you and dad going to stop talking again?”

You freeze. Up until now, Juliet has called him “Aaron.” Obviously, she knows Aaron is her dad, but she’s never called him that.

“Why do you ask that, baby?” You murmur, kissing the top of her head.

“I don’t want you guys to stop talking again. I like hanging out with him.” She buries her head further into your chest. “He makes me laugh.”

Tears fill your eyes. “He makes me laugh, too.”

“I know,” she smiles into your shirt. “He looks at you a lot.”

“What?”

“When you’re not looking,” she whispers, half-asleep again. “He smiles a lot. He has dimples like me.”

“He does,” you smile softly, wiping your tears away.

+++

The day of the triathlon, Juliet is more than eager to get to the park to cheer Aaron on.

You, on the other hand, feel like you could throw up from the thought of it.

Aaron told you the rest of the team will be there, and you’re grateful for the heads up, but you’re also nervous as shit. You haven’t seen them since your send off party. You haven’t texted with Penelope and Derek in...probably two years now.

He said he didn’t tell the team you’re coming because he didn’t want you to feel pressured, but he also warned you that the team has been questioning him nonstop if he’s seeing someone. He said he’s told them that he isn’t, but of course, they think he’s lying.

Dannie comes with to the triathlon, mainly because Juliet asked her to. It’s been a few days since Juliet has seen Dannie because she was out of town for work, but now she’s back, so Juliet wants her around all the time again.

You’re grateful for Dannie’s presence once again to calm your nerves and offer distractions at every second.

Surprisingly, you don’t see the team anywhere when you arrive, so you, Juliet, and Dannie set up your chairs and blanket peacefully. It’s a while before Aaron will be over here for the run, the last part of the triathlon, so Juliet breaks out her coloring book at your and Dannie’s feet.

You and Dannie spend the wait while idly talking, and after about an hour, the first cheers begin echoing out.

Juliet perks up with the noise. “Is that dad?”

Dannie’s eyes snap to yours and she mouths, “Did she?”

You nod, smiling stupidly. It brings you way more joy to hear Juliet freely call Aaron her dad. Way more joy than you thought.

“Maybe,” you stand up and reach for Juliet’s hand. “Let’s go see.”

Juliet grabs your hand and starts tugging you toward the front, and Dannie follows with a laugh, watching you get drug away by a four-year-old.

A few runners are passing by, but none of them are Aaron. Juliet is watching impatiently, and squeals when Dannie lifts her up onto her shoulders.

“Can you see now, munchkin?” You ask, your hand resting gently on her back, even though Dannie is holding onto her ankles.

Juliet nods. “I see him!”

You look down the way, and you see him, too.

Your lips split into a grin almost immediately. His black shorts, black t-shirt, with his number pinned to the front. His hair is slick with sweat, and yet, you still have a burning desire to run your fingers through it.

Aaron moves to the side, running right next to you, giving Juliet a high five on his way by, and you, too, only when his fingers graze yours, he squeezes.

As soon as he crosses the finish line, Juliet is scrambling out of Dannie’s arms, and when she hits the ground, she runs.

You’re running after her, Dannie too, calling her name, because she really shouldn’t run off like that.

But your nerves calm down the second you see Juliet jumping into her dad’s arms.

Slowing to a walk, you shake your head with a smile as Aaron spins her around, squeezing her tightly.

“Hey,” he says when he sees you. “I’m glad you guys could make it.”

“Me too,” you smile. “She wouldn’t let me miss it,” you nod toward Juliet.

“You’re smelly,” Juliet says out of nowhere, pinching her nose.

Dannie laughs loudly at her comment as Aaron sets her down. But despite her comment, she doesn’t move from next to him.

“Is that who I think it is?” Derek Morgan’s voice floats through your ears.

You turn around to face him, putting your hands on your hips. “Depends, who do you think it is?”

Derek grins wide. “Come here, you.”

You hug him tightly, and over his shoulder you see everyone else, all with shocked looks on their faces. JJ, Emily, Penelope, Spencer, and Rossi, too.

After giving out hugs all around, you look back to see Juliet still clinging to Aaron’s leg.

“Who is this?” Morgan asks quietly, kneeling down to Juliet’s level. “Hey there.”

She eyes him skeptically. “Hi.”

“Munchkin, this is Derek. He’s a friend, too.”

Derek waves.

“Do you like Frozen?” Juliet asks.

Derek nods seriously. “I love it.”

“Hmph,” she wraps her arm tighter around Aaron’s leg. The sight makes you want to crumble. She looks up at Aaron, and says, “Dad?” To get his attention.

Everyone stills. Even Derek.

“Yes, honey?” Aaron replies, kneeling down, too.

“Are they your friends, too?”

He nods. “We’re all really good friends.”

She shrugs. “Okay.” She looks around at everyone, and gasps when she sees Penelope. “I like your bracelet!”

Penelope looks down at it with a smile. “You wanna try it on?”

Juliet practically sprints toward Penelope with a dramatic nod.

While the two of them are playing with Pen’s jewelry, everyone else is looking at you and Hotch with blatantly shocked expressions.

“We’ll explain later,” you offer. “But the answer is yes.”

Rossi, bless him, breaks the awkward, silent tension. “Is anyone else starving?”

You laugh some nerves away. “Yeah, I am. We just need to go pack up our stuff.”

“I can help,” Aaron says.

“Okay, yeah,” you nod, glancing over at Juliet, but her, Penelope, JJ, and Emily are now sitting in the grass, talking animatedly about Frozen.

“I’ll stay over here,” Dannie says, nudging your arm.

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying to hide your dumb smile at the thought of being alone with Aaron, even if for only a few seconds.

Regardless, you try to keep your cool when you turn back to him. “We’re just over here.”

“Lead the way,” he gestures ahead.

You ignore all efforts to hide your smile now as you start walking. He falls into step beside you, his sweaty shoulder brushing yours, but you don’t mind.

And against all of your better judgement, you slide your hand into his.

His surprised look is priceless, and you can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes you. “What? Am I not allowed to make the first move?”

You don’t know if the red on his cheeks is from running or blushing. “No, no, you’re allowed.”

“Good,” you murmur, walking a little closer. Your things are far too close for your liking. You want to walk with him like this for longer.

When you stop next to your chairs, you don’t let go of his hand. He doesn’t let go, either.

“Can I ask something?” He says, squeezing your hand.

“Sure.”

He steps closer, his toes nearly touching yours. “If you make the first move, am I allowed to make the second?”

You can’t help the violent swarm of butterflies in your stomach. “I think that’s how that works.” You pause, tilting your head, gesturing to how close your feet are. “Was that your move?”

He shakes his head. “No. This is.”

That’s when, when I saw your face/You let me in, and baby, that’s when

Aaron’s free hand holds your jaw as he kisses you in the same tender, gentle way that he used to, only this one has four years’ worth of apologies in every touch. You let go of his hand to smooth your hands on his chest, his neck, any place you can touch because it’s been too long. Way too long.

That’s when I want you/That’s when I love you/That’s when

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celestialrry · 3 years

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stood up

3.5k

hello everyone!!!! I've been awol for literally weeks because i had absolutely NO motivation to write but i finally finished this piece ˊᗜˋ so YAY. ALSOO thank you for following me, liking, and reblogging my pieces (it encourages me somuchsothankyouireallyappreciateit-- and remember reblogging really helps us writers :))) ) here’s a hug for all ur patience and feel free to send me asks or requests i love talking to you guys! ε(♡'-')з

summary: Harry keeps standing Y/N up. (request from @ballerinrry! thank u love)

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and sex, angsty but with a happy ending cause for some reason i can never let them end on a bad note

Y/N was excited.

It had been a while since Harry had asked her to go on a date, it was always the other way around recently. She couldn’t blame him though, Y/N knew just how busy Harry always was, and it wasn’t like he was purposefully not asking her to go do things, he just had a lot on his plate.

That’s what she kept telling herself anyways.

It’s what she told herself when it had been 2 weeks since they had even eaten a meal together, and given the fact that just a few months ago Harry had come back to London for a while, that was rare. So, Y/N asked him to grab lunch on a Saturday while they were lying in bed together, and when he agreed, but failed to show up, leaving Y/N sitting at the cafe, her lips morphed into a frown and her eyes not focusing on the phone in front of her, she told herself he was simply booked up with meetings and studio time and such.

Thats what he told her when he got into bed that night to apologize for accidentally standing her up. She forgave him, of course, and suggested they could just get dinner the next week. He agreed, even walked around to his calander her to show her he was marking the date off in his calendar with a heart, her first initial, and 7:00 PM etched into the little box with red sharpie.

So, the week passed with quick kisses of good mornings and good nights, and while Harry was gone Y/N had on a black dress she had been excited to wear for a while now, with those little mini silver heels and a coat strung over her shoulders as she sat on her couch waiting for Harry to swing by to pick her up. She shot him a text that simply asked “You otw? xx”

He was not.

It took about 30 minutes of waiting on their couch to realize he was standing her up, again. And it took until the next morning for Harry to see her text (his phone had been on do not disturb while he was at the studio and he ended up spending the night at Sarah and Mitch’s after a few beers), and for the guilt to seep through his veins.

He apologized, again. And Y/N forgave him, again.

Only until it got to the point where Y/N no longer remembered the amount of times Harry had stood her up, for being at the studio, or sleeping after a meeting, or simply just not paying attention to his phone, she knew there was a problem.

Harry was fully aware of the problem too. He knew that this was no way to ever treat a partner, and if someone was doing this to him, he’d dump them— well, he’s never been one to end a relationship unless it was necessary, so that’s an exaggeration, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Which is why when he got home one day around 11 PM, gave her a kiss to the forehead after she sat up in their bed to give him a hug, and a soft “Can we talk?” escaped her lips, he knew he had to fix this. So he asked her if they could talk over dinner the next night, he just wanted to sleep but also wanted to fix things with his girl, asking her if she was free of course, before telling her he’s gonna make a reservation at that nice restaurant the two of them used to go to quite often, because “it’s been a while since I’ve taken my favorite girl out”.

A grin broke out on her face because he had asked her! And if Harry was planning it, there’s no way he’d cancel or stand her up.

So yeah, Y/N was excited.

She woke up that morning with a smile on her face, and something akin to a what she thinks a rainbow would feel like running through her veins. It had only been a few months since she’d last been on a date with her boyfriend of almost 2 years and a half in person, and she was going to make the most of it. Because after this date, things would change. They’d spend more time together again and it would be like this little bump (that neither had acknowledged) never happened.

Y/N did, well, everything to prepare. Took a long shower, shaved, put on that coconut lotion Harry likes— he tended to dig his face in her neck when he smelled it while holding her—, brushed her teeth more than 3 times, dug in her closet to find that one patterned soft purple dress she bought ages ago but never had a change to wear it, until now, put on those really cute heels Harry said he liked once (“Looks like something you’d wear on a runway pet, I love ‘em.”), and even styled her hair differently than normal.

He had told her he would swing by at 8 on the dot after the studio, and soon enough, it was 8, with no sign from the man who made the promise himself. Y/N thought maybe there was traffic, he was just running late, texted him a quick, “Can’t wait to see you!! xxx” and put her phone on the coffee table, waiting on their couch.

8 turned to 9, 9 turned to 10, 10 turned to 11, and soon it was midnight. Y/N doesn’t think she’d ever felt more empty than how she felt then, walking to their shared room of a year, slipping off her heels and tossing them towards the closet, as well as pulling her dress over herself and letting it fall to the floor behind her, grabbing that one t-shirt she always wears when she needs comfort (which just happened to an extra 2018 Live on Tour shirt Harry had laying around that she snatched just 3 months into them dating), and flopping into bed.

She couldn’t fall asleep, and instead spent her time curled up in their bedsheets, a steady flow of tears making their way down her blush covered cheeks.

。:°ஐ

Harry usually didn’t make mistakes.

Sure, he had his moments, grabbing the wrong coffee off the counter when his name was called at the cafe, forgetting to text Jeff that he actually couldn’t make it to a meeting that was scheduled in a few hours. Just little things, things that didn’t matter that much, and could always be fixed. He didn’t usually make mistakes that weren’t easy to fix. He just wasn’t that kind of guy.

Until, he was.

Harry loved Y/N. He loved having her around, loved spending time with her, loved loving on her, loved kissing her, loved touching her, loved the way she went about almost everything. He was so in love with her, that hurting her was out of the question. He never wanted to be the one to make her cry, make her bottom lip quiver before the tears rushed out like he’d seen many times before, due to movies, his songs (which as sadistic as it sounds was an ego builder to have someone so close to him so affected by the music he wrote), her school work, or even her friends that weren’t being so nice.

In fact, he was so in love with her, even being so afraid of commitment (it took him over a year of them dating to ask her to move in), all he wanted to do was blurt out those 4 dreaded words. “Will you marry me?” It was a bond for life, and he was terrified of that, but with Y/N all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his living days with her.

When Harry had come back from being in L.A. for so long and finally being in the same city as his girlfriend back at their home, all they did was spend time together. Every time he saw Y/N all he wanted to do was say those 4 words that he hadn’t even fully come to terms with himself. It was dangerous, and Harry’s self control when it came to Y/N was lacking, so he simply did was every normal person would do in his situation.

He stood her up.

Many more times than he could count, and of course he felt like the shittiest person in the world— shittiest boyfriend in the world—but at least now she can’t possibly be under the impression that he wanted to marry her, which is what he wanted. Or thought he wanted, until Sarah called him up one day after he had stood Y/N up for dinner the night before and told him off. Told Harry just how fucking terrible he made Y/N feel, how unwanted she thought she was, how she felt like they were loosing their relationship, and Harry didn’t know what to do with himself. (Of course Y/N had sobbed to Sarah about it over the phone while she was drunk off the wine she opened 40 minutes after Harry said he would be there, so she really didn’t even remember the conversation).

And later that day Harry had come home, heard her wavering voice asking if they could talk, and decided in his head he would tell her how he felt, how sorry he was, and how he wanted to be with her forever and love her forever if she allowed him. He had a few expectations for their dinner, that Y/N would probably tell him how he’s made her feel, and Harry would apologize, tell her why he did it, explain he thought it was no excuse, then tell her he plans on marrying her (obviously not proposing just yet, but finally bringing up the conversation they had never had even though they were in a serious committed relationship) and they’d go back home, have the most amazing sex ever, and forget about the whole thing.

What Harry didn’t expect was to get a call from Jeff around 5 asking him to come to the studio to fix few vocals, then end up nailing down 2 songs in one night, go to a bar with the band to celebrate, get drunk, then pass out at Mitch and Sarahs flat.

But that’s what happened, according to Mitch, who woke Harry up the very next morning.

“Good morning man, wakey wakey,” Mitch’s teasing tone echoed through Harry’s (what felt like full of vodka) brain as he groaned and squinted his eyes. “Why are you waking me up at this hour in the morning?” Harry asked drearily, sighing and simultaneously regretting last night as a whole because the last thing he wanted to do while hungover was be up before at least 9 AM.

“We’ve gotta go to meet with Jeff about tour in like a hour, H” Mitch stated .

At Mitch’s words Harry sat up on their couch, eyes wide in fear. “Wait mate, I thought tha’ meeting was on Wednesday.”

“It is Wednesday H, god how drunk did we let you get last night…” Mitch said, beginning to recount some of Harry’s antics the night before. Harry however, couldn’t hear a thing with the blood pumping through his ears. If today was Wednesday, that meant yesterday was Tuesday, and he went and got trashed at a bar with his friends Tuesday night when— when he was supposed to be on a date with Y/N, when he was supposed to confess his intentions, when he was supposed to apologize for standing her up over and over, yet instead he went and did it again.

Now this, this was a mistake.

“…H. H. Harry? Are you there?” Mitch’s voice came back into focus and Harry shook his head. “I- fuck, I was supposed to take Y/N out last night.” Harry said, his voice trembling.

‘I’m sure she’ll forgive you, it’s just one night.” Mitch tried to make Harry feel better. He knew Y/N was a very forgiving person, she would get over this in no time.

“No, she won’t. I-I’ve stood her up for the past month and a half, Mitch.”

At these words, Mitch stands straight up making pained eye contact with Sarah in the kitchen who was overhearing most of this conversation with her eyes wide. She had no idea it was this bad. “Month and a half? I thought it was just that one time a few weeks ago, Harry what the hell is wrong with you?” Harry simply shook his head and didn’t reply. He had absolutely no idea how to make it up to her. “I-fuck, I don’t know Mitch!” Harry raised his voice. “I need to see her and apologize, now.” Harry said, standing up and rushing over to the front door and slipping on his shoes.

“This meeting is mandatory Harry, as much as I want you to see her too, she’d probably still asleep, and I don’t think this can be solved in under an hour.” Mitch said calmly, already knowing Harry was close to walking out his door. Harry stayed silent for a moment, weighing the options. Either go apologize to his girlfriend, or prioritize himself over her again.

“We can do it another day, I’m sorry, but I have to go see her, tell Jeff I feel sick.” And he walked out without another word.

。:°ஐ

The morning after Harry stood Y/N up again was brutal.

She stayed up all night, replaying moments with Harry in her head, analyzing if he wanted to be there with her, wondering if maybe he felt like he had to stay with her out of pity. It was torture, and the pain seemed to turn into numbness as time went by, and eventually the sun came up, and she stayed in bed, her motivation lost.

A loud crash and “Fuck!” woke her up, swollen eyes fluttering open to the invasive noise. Y/N furrowed her brows, her mind connecting everything that happened yesterday and unfortunately reminding her of the unbearable pain she went through the night before. A groan escaped her lips as she sat up and flung her legs out of her bed sheets that had been flung off the bed in the middle of the night. She began grumbling to herself as she made her way downstairs, ready to tell Harry off for making so much noise.

Her mouth stopped moving, and instead remained in limbo as her eyes met Harry’s. His mouth opened to speak, but his words were caught in his throat as he saw the state she was in. It was when her mouth pressed into a line that he could begin talking. “Y/N, baby, please I know you don’t wanna see me or talk t’me right now but I’m so fuckin’ sorry, love. So so sorry, it was an accident, I went t’ the studio to fix a few things then got hung up on the songs and by the time we went to celebrate I completely lost track of time, and I was too drunk to drive home so I crashed at Mitch’s.”

Her mouth fell open at his words. Everything was happening too fast. Hearing that he stood her up to drink at a fucking bar to celebrate himself, then coming home and accidentally knocking over a glass in their kitchen (which she put together was the crash earlier after seeing the shards of broken glass on the floor) frustrated her to no end. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him any longer, and Harry had stopped talking after realizing what he just admitted to her. Without another glance, instead of looking at Y/N’s tear stained face, all he saw was her back, walking up the stairs to their room.

“Fuck,” He said to himself before following her up the pink stairs. “Y/N, love wait-please, I’m so sorry, I just need to talk to you, I need to explain myself, please.” He begged as she shut their bedroom door in his face, his voice turning into a desperate whine at the end.

。:°ஐ

It’s been 3 days since then, and she hasn’t spoken to him. He would leave in the mornings, kissing her forehead and mumbling an “I love you” and telling her exactly what time he’d be home, before leaving and coming back on time to find an empty plate in the sink and her lying in their bed, whether it be reading, scrolling on her phone, or typing on her laptop. He would apologize many times, reaching his hand out for hers and she would simply situate herself in their bed and lay down, back turned to him.

Harry just couldn’t take it anymore.

It was when she had finally let him kiss her forehead goodnight that he decided to take his chance. “Y/N.” He spoke softly, with no response or anything to indicate she heard him. “Baby, can we please talk- or I’ll talk and you listen, I just- I really need to say some things.”

She was still faced away from him when he leaned against their headboard and he decided to keep going.

“I- um. I’m sure you know how sorry I am, but I really am- sorry I mean. Not just for tonight but for every other time I’ve stood you up. I’m so sorry for not showing you how much you matter to me, and how much the things you do matter to me.”

It was then that she slowly sat up next to him and looked at him, eyes begging him to continue. He blushed at her intense eye-contact that he had barely gotten over the past few days and took a breath, opting to look at his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“We’ve been together for 2 and almost a half years, which is the longest relationship I’ve been in, and it’s no excuse to treat you this way, but I had just been thinking about how things progress even further than now,” He coughs. “Which is marriage, and when I finally came home, all I wanted to do was ask you to marry me- I don’t- m’not proposing right now, I just- I got really scared because wanting to spend the rest of your life with someone is crazy to me,

I’ve never thought that way about anyone else until you, I didn’t even really want to get married before you, and I started to distance myself before I ended up telling you this, but obviously that blew up in my face.” He chuckled a bit, locking eyes with her unreadable ones for a moment and lifting a hand to run through his hair. “What I’m trying to say, is that I love you, so so much, and I plan on marrying you— obviously if you want to too, of course— and I’m so sorry for trying to make you think that I didn’t care about you anymore or love you any less, because it’s the complete opposite of that.”

His eyes were watery now, as he started down at his interlocked fingers, and his eyes widened when her hand was gently placed over his own. “Harry,” Y/N began. “Look at me, please.”

His head lifted to see her facing him, her brows knitted and a small smile on her face. “I forgive you, okay? I could tell you were kind of scared of commitment when we first started dating, and I wish I could say your reason for standing me up is surprising but it’s not.” They both chuckled a bit at this. “I- I’m still upset at you, I need you to know that, because 2 months of thinking the love of your life is avoiding you doesn’t feel all too great, so you suck for that,” she said, planting a quick kiss to his cheek which quickly turned pink. “But Harry, even if you asked me to marry you a year ago I would have said yes. I love you, so much, and I plan on spending the rest of my life with you as well. I’m sorry for giving you the silent treatment, it was… unnecessary and immature. So, thank you for apologizing. I love you.” She confessed again.

“S’okay, I deserved it, and I love you too. Maybe even more. So um, we’re okay?” Harry asked, a hopeful smile on his face.

She nodded with a smile and pulled him into a much needed hug and pulled away only for him to bring her into an even more needed kiss. “If you ever try to pull that shit again, I’m breaking up with you.” She laughed and he tackled her into the sheets hiding his face in her neck.

“Duly noted, love. Duly noted.”

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #Harry Styles #harry styles angst #im pretty proud of this one #if I do say so myself #harry styles fanfiction #its kinda short tho sorry

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letskookandbaek · 2 years

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Rightfully Yours: Chapter 3 | Jeon Wonwoo

Soulmates doesn’t necessarily have to be in the form of a romantic relationship.

But when feelings grow between two best friends, will replacing the friendship label jeopardize everything?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

- Wonwoo x Fem Reader

- feat Mingyu, Yeri (RV), Seokmin, Jihoon, Minghao, Soonyoung, Chan, Seungcheol, Jennie etc.

- Word count: 2464 words.

- Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Fluff, Non-Idol! au, College! au, Romance, Slight Drama, Slight Angst.

- Series Warnings: Cursing, Suggestive scenes, Insecurity, Family Issues, Food, Violence (let me know if there are more).

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｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

The more the semester went on, the busier you and Wonwoo became. This meant less time spent with each other. It wasn’t like you didn’t see each other at all, in fact you had a lot of shared classes with your best friend. It was more of less time having fun and more time focused on not fucking up since the both of you were in your last year. Well, more of you trying not to fuck up while Wonwoo maintained his perfect grades. You loved learning, you really do. Not to mention the love you have for reading, history, and world issues. That was one of the reasons that attracted Wonwoo to you anyway but for the love of God, studying, memorizing and all of those formal shit were really not your thing. You only really do well in the subjects you really liked because you would actually put in a decent amount of effort for it. If not, getting average was fine to you. Wonwoo has never judged you for doing so, he understood your way of thinking.

While you were busy studying in the campus library around midnight, you suddenly felt a dull pounding pain forming on both sides of your head. You tried to shrug it off as you continued to revise. Mid terms were not too far away and you figured a head start would be good. Wonwoo would be so proud of me you thought because truth be told, you didn’t usually do this. Wonwoo was out drinking with friends since it was a Friday night. At first he declined and wanted to burn the midnight oil with you but you encouraged him to go out and let loose since he has been working really hard the past week. It wasn’t a surprise that you were laughed at when the others heard you were going to study instead of drinking with them. But you were adamant on trying to get decent grades at least before leaving university for good. After writing down a few notes, the dull aching pain only got worse that it was hard to ignore.

You reached for the front pocket of your backpack but frowned upon realizing you were out of Paracatemols. You forgot to restock them, You cursed under your breath and dreaded the thought of going to a 24 hours mart just to get them. Without hesitation, you took your phone to call Wonwoo but you immediately stopped in your tracks before hitting the call button. You definitely didn’t want to rain on his parade since he worked so hard. Wonwoo deserved a good time. You realized you depended on him so much that calling him for help was such a natural thing to do. You felt bad for being so selfish, for thinking of yourself. So you decided to call Yeri instead but when you heard the booming music and loud male voices on the other line, you realized she was also drinking with Wonwoo and the gang.

“Yes babe~ “ Yeri greeted. From the way she slurred her words, you could tell she had a little too much of alcohol.

“Yeri, are you drunk?”

“Juuuust a little tipsy” she replied in a sing song voice. You were about to scold her since she had a paper to sit for the next day when you heard the phone being passed to someone else. Her boyfriend Minghao called our your name softly.

“Sorry about Yeri, I’ll take care of her”

“But her test, Hao!” you whisper shouted as you rubbed your temples.

“She said she has already studied the materials. Now what made you call? Are you ok?” There was a hint of worry in his voice as he tried calming his tipsy girlfriend. You knew how whiny Yeri gets when she was drunk so you understood his situation.

“I’m having a terrible headache right now and I was hoping Yeri could help me get some Paracatemols” you sighed. “Wonwoo is just across the table, I’ll pass the phone to him” but before you could protest, Wonwoo was already on the other line. “Are you okay? Do you need me?” hearing your best friend’s voice immediately calmed you down and you wished he was right beside you at that moment. “I don’t wanna disturb your fun, Woo” you replied softly, trying to mask the pain from him. “You don’t sound good. I’ll go over to library now if you need me to” Wonwoo was firm and adamant. You’ve always found his decisiveness extremely attractive but of course like many other things, you never admitted them to him.

“It’s just a headache, I’ll manage it”

“You don’t sound very convincing”

“Just go ahead and have fun”

“How can I have fun when I know you’re not feeling well?”

You were silent, slightly stunned at his words. Even though he has helped you many times, it still never ceased to amaze you what an amazing friend he was. “I’ll go over now, hang tight and I’ll be there in no time” he reassured before ending the call. You laid your head on the table as you waited for Wonwoo. You tried to take a short nap but the pain was too unbearable and only made the wait felt like forever. Fortunately, Wonwoo was already by your side before you knew it, arms immediately around you as he pulled down the hoodie that was covering your head to reveal your face. “You look really sick. Let’s get you home, I’ll buy the meds” he whispered his words like a bullet train. You pulled his arm and took a closer look at his face. “Jeon Wonwoo, are you wearing contacts?!” you gasped. “This is not important right now, hop on my back” his voice was dominant as he crouched in front of you. You gently wrapped your arms around his neck as he hoisted you up. “What would I do without you, Woo” you sighed in content when your face hit his back as he carried you to his car.

The smell of his perfume mixed with the laundry detergent made you feel safe and at peace. You felt at home. As he approached his car, he placed you on the passenger seat and strapped you in. While he was busy adjusting your seat, you realized how close his face was to yours and you couldn’t help but to feel a little shy. “I’ll go get your meds” he informed and quickly left after turning on the engine and air conditioner in the car. Once Wonwoo returned, you placed your hand on his. “Can I go back to yours?” you sleepily asked. Wonwoo didn’t bother to question and just gave you a nod before driving off. The car ride to his condominium was quiet, the comfortable kind that you always shared with him. While driving, Wonwoo didn’t fail to reassure you, using his free hand to caress yours whenever there was a red light. As cheesy as it seemed, there were times you questioned yourself; what did you do in your past life to have someone like Wonwoo?. He was more than a friend at this point. A soulmate?, platonic one of course. You always told yourself to never take him for granted.

You didn’t know how long you fell asleep in the car but the next thing you knew you were on Wonwoo’s bed with the blanket covering your body. A few minutes later, the door slowly opened with Wonwoo carrying medicine in one hand and a glass of water in the other. “Was about to wake you up” he softly spoke. You sat up and took the medicine from his hand and washed it down with the water. “Does it still hurt?” he rubbed your back in circles, studying your face. You noticed that Wonwoo was wearing his glasses again. As selfish as it sounded, you preferred him this way. There was no doubt he looked like the hot bad boy when he doesn’t wear his glasses but to you, glasses Wonwoo was the real deal. So sweet, kind… “Yes, but once the medicine kicks in I’ll get better” you laid down and closed your eyes. Wonwoo caressed your hair gently before leaving. “Wait” you called out. “Hmm? Do you need anything?” he asked carefully and despite you trying to fight back the pain and tiredness, you could see how much Wonwoo cared about you just by looking into his eyes.

“Sleep with me”

Wonwoo looked stunned and kept quiet for what felt like a few minutes. Throughout this whole friendship, he has never once shared a bed with you, not even when you come over to stay the night. He always respected your boundaries, even if it was at his place. He was a gentleman like that. But tonight, you didn’t want to sleep alone. You couldn’t read his facial expression but he seemed unsure.

“You don’t have to if you don’t-”

“I’ll stay with you”

With that, Wonwoo walked over to the other side of the bed and laid down next to you. He was a little awkward, one hand under his head as he looked at the ceiling. You chuckled at how unnatural he looked. “Hold my hand, Woo” you whined playfully. He turned to face you and held your hand. “Go to sleep, dummy” he nagged, giving you a look. You half smiled as you closed your eyes, sighing in content. “I hope you had fun earlier” you whispered. You felt his hand caressing your head gently. “It’d be more fun if you were there, everyone missed you”. You managed to let out a weak smile. “Sorry you had to leave early” your voice gradually became softer as the tiredness took over your body. Wonwoo didn’t reply. Before he knew it, you fell into a deep sleep and started to snore softly. “Your worth it, you’re always worth it” were the words Wonwoo whispered to himself while looking at your sleeping figure. He gently placed a kiss on your head before falling asleep himself.

You woke up the next morning to the sunlight peeking through the curtains. As you stretched your arms and yawned, a frown formed on your face upon realizing that the left side of the bed was empty. Where was Wonwoo?. You checked your phone. 11am. You let out an “Oh shit” for oversleeping but then you realized that Wonwoo left you a message:

Hey, hope you had a good sleep. I had to leave early for dance practice but I bought you McDonald’s breakfast before you left. Reply me when you’re awake.

Your heart melted at his sweet gesture. It was a Saturday which meant that he had dance practice. Wonwoo was part of the university’s dance club which required him to attend practice every Saturday. You didn’t usually stop by to watch him but you thought of surprising him this time with food. That was the least you could do after all that he has done for you since last night, you thought. You happily walked to the kitchen island and ate your McDonald’s breakfast heartily. After showering and wearing back last night’s hoodie and sweatpants (you only wore it for a few hours before you had to sleep anyway), you made your way to the nearest bakery just beside the condominium and picked out Wonwoo’s favourite pastries. From there you walked to the nearest train station which was about a 5 minute walk. The train ride usually took about 10 minutes and what you liked most about studying at your campus was that the train stop was only a short walk away from it. It was really convenient especially on days when Wonwoo wasn’t around to pick you up. After the train stopped at your campus, you hopped off excitedly to give Wonwoo his food.

Halfway walking, you had to stop and recall where the dance studio was since you rarely went there. As you slowly approached the room, you could hear the speakers blasting a familiar song. Christopher’s Bad. It was one of your favourite songs because the first time you heard it on Spotify, you had it on repeat nonstop the next few days. Curious, you peeked through the small window beside the door to watch. You didn’t recognize who it was but damn the way he danced definitely impressed you. His moves were sharp yet fluid and his facial expression was charismatic. He had this enigmatic aura that you didn’t really know how to describe. All you knew was that whoever the hell that just danced was not only talented but also really hot. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realize that the mysterious guy had stop dancing and was looking at you through the dance mirror.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt” You opened the door slightly as you quickly apologized. The dancer then turned to look at you as he ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. Fuck, can he not? You thought as you mentally fanned yourself. “You’re welcome to watch if you’d like” his tone was teasing as he smiled at you with bright eyes. Too stunned to speak, you were so glad that Minghao had to appear when you needed saving the most. “What are you doing here?” he smiled as he entered the room, holding the door for you. You shyly stepped in and felt the mysterious guy’s gaze still on you. “I wanted to pass these to Wonwoo” you held up the paper bag filled with pastries. “He went to the toilet, he’ll be back soon” Minghao replied before stretching in front of the mirror.

“So you’re Wonwoo’s girlfriend?” the dancer asked. “Huh? No!, bb-est friend! You corrected him but ended up stuttering like an idiot. Minghao watched your interaction with him and gave a knowing nod, as if he knew there was something going on between the two of you. “Yes, I know of you. I’m Hoshi by the way” he held out his hand and gave you a warm smile. You told him your name and shook his hand. “I didn’t say this earlier but you dance really well” you complimented, looking at him for a reaction. He thanked you shyly. “You should come by more often , I could teach you if you’d like” Hoshi offered. You didn’t notice Wonwoo walking into the room as you were too engaged in the conversation with Hoshi. What surprised Wonwoo more wasn’t the fact that you were in the dance studio even though he knew you never visited him during his dance club meets. It was the expression on your face as you talked to Hoshi. You looked interested, and he didn’t know what to feel about it.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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

A/N: If anyone wants to be in the future taglists, let me know! DM me, send me an ask, or comment 💫

#wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo svt #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo au #wonwoo fic #seventeen au #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #seventeen oneshot #wonwoo fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Stardust - CHANGMIN

So like. This was the first full scenario I wrote for TBZ and I can’t believe I wrote this before actually even STARTING No Air, but whatever! It was cute! I couldn’t help myself but I didn’t want to post this before No Air so that’s why it’s late

Thank you to @deathbykpopboys for helping me put this scenario together! Honestly I don’t think I’d ever write anything without sunny hhhh she’s always so great with ideas <3

Pairing: Changmin x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, a little angst if you squint, teacher!au

Triggers: alcohol, cursing

Word Count: 2.7k

Changmin sometimes thinks you’re a little too perfect to exist.

TBZ Masterlist | No Air | Touching Stars | Breathe, and Live

Friday nights are always fun, for Changmin. Friday’s the last day of the work week and kind of blends into the weekend, and because he’s a schoolteacher, he (sort of) gets the weekend off. Sure, he might be making lesson plans or writing reports or doing other important, not fun things, but he also has his stolen moments for dance or shopping or things that he doesn’t have time to do during the week. He’s free, more or less.

The last Friday night of each month, though, Changmin enjoys the most, when he, Jacob, and Kevin meet up for cheap food and drinks. And as much as Changmin likes to wreak havoc on the lives of his fellow teachers (mostly by scaring the wits out of them with dolphin screams and horror movie masks), he really does enjoy their presence in his life and appreciates them for it.

They haven’t a missed a night so far, not since that time Jacob was out with the flu and Kevin had a family emergency. And even though Changmin’s definitely done and said some stupid (read: really embarrassing) things while under the influence, the pros of each night always end up outweighing the cons. So if Changmin wakes up the next morning with a hangover, well, that’s just a side effect of having some fun.

But sometimes he has thoughts. Thoughts that he’s repressed so well he might not even register them, but that exist nonetheless. And Changmin, sadly, is a truthful drunk. His thoughts come spilling out of his mouth, mostly unfiltered, whenever he’s had enough to drink.

And this week, Changmin has been having thoughts. Thoughts that he isn’t sure he wants to spill.

If he drinks, they’ll flood out. It’s the way Changmin works – he’s had enough experiences with alcohol and his brain that he knows what will happen. As he stares at the soju bottle on the table, he knows that if he drinks, he’ll probably regret it in the morning. Not necessarily because he’ll remember what he says – his memory tends to get a bit spotty even after a round of light drinking – but because Kevin definitely will.

Normally, Changmin would praise God for Kevin's ability to remember drunk things. Coupled with his inability to lie, it makes for so much potent blackmail. Sure, Kevin makes Changmin and Jacob swear not to talk about anything he said under the influence, but Changmin isn't an angel the way Jacob is. If it came down to it, he'd sell Kevin's secrets for a single corn chip and some entertainment.

(Okay, not really. But the point still stands.)

If he complained about this to people, they’d probably just laugh and say something about how Kevin is a precious pure meme, that he’d never sell out Changmin’s deepest thoughts for anything. After several years of working with him, though, Changmin knows better.

(He’ll just say that sometimes, Mr. Kev Kev isn't the happy-go-lucky meme-y little boy that everyone likes to make him out to be.)

So maybe Changmin shouldn't be drinking tonight. There isn’t necessarily a lot on his mind, but he’s been thinking of things that he doesn't want spilled just yet, and drinking will only make that possibility a reality.

Isn’t that what alcohol is for, though? To make those worries disappear, if only for a short while? The soju beckons at Changmin, even more so when Kevin actually opens the bottle. Eventually, he throws caution to the wind and fills his own glass.

It’s a clear night, mostly. A bit cloudy, but no sign of rain, and there’s a pleasant little breeze that feels cool against his cheeks. Sitting at one of the small tables outside of the restaurant, Changmin loses himself in the food and the conversation.

After an hour, Jacob decides he needs to leave because he’s supposed to meet with his family the next day and can’t get too plastered. Kevin calls him a noob while making a face, but Jacob, being the angel he is, just pats him on the head on his way out. Privately, Changmin thinks Kevin is much more of a noob than Jacob, but the alcohol hasn’t addled his mind enough to say that out loud just yet.

At some point, though, the world becomes pleasantly muddy. Changmin can register what’s going on at a distant level and he probably shouldn’t drink too much more, but he takes a last shot anyway, just as Kevin asks a slightly slurred “How’s life with Y/N?”

A stupid smile stretches across Changmin’s lips. “Kevin, oh my God, she’s perfect.” He grins, the breeze cool against his flushed cheeks. "She’s so beautiful, it doesn't make sense that we exist in the same world."

Kevin mutters something that sounds like "whipped" and "so soft."

Changmin is sure that if he were sober, he would've attacked his fellow teacher by now, but his tipsy haze is too pleasant to interrupt. He just wants to keep talking. "Kevin," he whines. "Pay attention."

"Okay." Face flushed, Kevin puts his chin on his fist. "'M listening."

"Y/N’s so beautiful." Dimly, Changmin is aware that he's just repeating himself, but he can't help it. The point needs emphasis. "Kevin, she’s so amazing. So much more amazing than me. So smart. Did you know Y/N knows like ten programming languages?"

Tipsily, Kevin shakes his head. "What... what's a program."

"Computer shit." Changmin plays idly with his shot glass. "Doesn't matter. So smart, so nice, so... lovely, Kevin. Y/N’s good at everything. She cuts fruit for me when I work late and make me go to sleep. She doesn’t know anything about dance and tries to help anyway. She works so hard and never takes anyone’s shit and she always knows when I need time alone or when I need comfort.” His mouth draws down into a slight frown. “She’s like... she’s like..."

Why is it so hard to come up with something to explain you? Your entire existence defies definition. How can he even find something comparable to the way you sparkle in his eyes?

Ignoring Kevin’s gaze trained on him, Changmin slumps over the table, eyes gazing out at the dark night. A few stars manage to glitter past the clouds and the piercing lights of the Seoul skyline.

Stars. Something tugs at the back of Changmin’s brain. Stars. Sparkly.

An image of your smile pops, unbidden, in his mind. Your bright eyes glimmer. Like stars.

Oh.

Stardust.

Yes, stardust.

You're like stardust, warm and gentle and... magical. Magical to the touch.

"She’s like." Changmin hiccups. "She’s like stardust, Kevin. Stardust. Perfect. Warm.”

A tear trickles down Kevin's cheek. Changmin has exactly two seconds to ready himself in his drunken haze before Kevin launches himself at his purple hoodie, loosely grasping at the soft cloth as he fully encases Changmin within his arms. "Ji Changmin," he sobs, muffled, "that is the most adorable thing I've ever heard you say."

Even sober, Changmin doesn't think he'd know what to say in response to that, so he just stays silent. It's not like Kevin would even hear him over the sound of his overemotional crying.

Anyway, Kevin's hug feels nice. Warm. Changmin doesn't think he needs to speak words at the moment, he's too comfortable. It's not the same as being in your arms, but he'll settle for it now. He burrows a little deeper into his friend's hold.

“You little child, you,” Kevin sobs into his shoulder. “You’re so sweet and small and warm, I can’t believe you exist.”

Changmin doesn’t feel like replying. There’s a bubble of something growing in his chest that he can’t entirely decipher right now, and his brain has focused on that. It’s some sort of emotion, he thinks. It doesn’t feel very pleasant.

His head gets pulled out of Kevin’s arms. He whines a little, annoyed by the lack of warmth, but he doesn’t really have the presence of mind to do anything but sit there limply as Kevin starts shaking him back and forth, still wailing about how “adorable his little Ji Changminnie is.”

The bubble keeps growing as Kevin keeps shaking him. It doesn’t feel like vomit – Changmin knows that sensation a bit too well – but it makes him feel a little sick. A little upset. The bubble feels suffocating, cold, but it also burns.

Not vomit. He doesn’t feel nauseous. But still unpleasant.

Kevin goes back to hugging Changmin into his chest, which soothes the bubble a little bit. The soft warmth of Kevin’s sweater smooths the burning and takes away the edge of the cold. But the bubble still stays as Changmin rocks back and forth in his friend’s hold, blankly trying to decipher the stupid emotion growing in his heart.

“There’s a bubble.” The words slip out of his mouth just past Kevin’s ear. “There’s a bubble in my chest.”

“Bubble?” Kevin pulls back slightly, flushed face confused. “What bubble?”

Changmin vaguely gestures at his chest as best he can with Kevin’s arms partially trapping his hands. “Here. Doesn’t feel good.”

Kevin’s eyes squint. “Need to vomit?”

“Nooooo,” Changmin whines. “Kevin, it’s a bubble.” He pauses. “Think it’s an emotion.”

He hears Kevin suck in a breath. “I can’t believe my precious little Scorpio child is finally feeling emotions,” the older boy says in a stage whisper, loud enough for at least the next two tables to hear. Changmin has enough presence of mind to slap him. “Hey!”

“It hurts.” Changmin’s lips pout deeper. “I don’t like it.”

“Aww, no, baby.” Kevin pats his head – a little too hard, but Changmin can deal with that. “Why does it hurt? What emotion is it?”

Changmin racks his brains for the word. It’s not a good feeling, so he tries to eliminate the good words as they pass through his mind. Not pleasant. Definitely not happy. Not calm, either.

Sadness? Maybe that’s part of it, but it’s not specific enough. Anger? Not really.

Fear?

Changmin isn’t scared of many things. He loves horror movies and thinks possessed dolls are cute, and it’s hard for anyone to really startle him. Fear is not an emotion that regularly appears in his repertoire.

But this time…

“I’m scared.” The two words slip out of his mouth, quiet, lonely. “’M scared, Kevin.”

Kevin pulls back again. “Changmin, you’re never scared.”

“I am now.” He purses his lips petulantly.

“Why?”

Unconsciously, the corners of his lips turn down even further into a blank pout. "Sometimes I think Y/N’s gonna leave. Slip through my fingers."

Even tipsy, Changmin can tell there are more tears welling up in Kevin's eyes. "But… you love each other?"

"Y/N’s stardust." Changmin's pout deepens. "Too perfect. She’s gonna realize that, that I'm not... I'm not good enough but she’s too nice to say that so she’ll just slip away." He hiccups again, feeling his cheeks burn with drink, fluttering his fingers loosely to make sure Kevin gets the point. "Like stardust."

Kevin remains silent for one, two, three seconds. Changmin takes that time to drain the last little bit of soju left in his cup.

Then Kevin nearly knocks the cup out of his hand when he literally grabs Changmin and forces him to curl up into his sweater, nose buried in the soft folds of cloth. “You beautiful, pure little child, you,” he coos, patting Changmin’s head (still a little too hard, but Changmin really doesn’t feel the need to deal with it right now). “You small little child. You poor, small child. Y/N is so in love with you, there’s no way she’ll ever leave.”

“Stardust,” Changmin reminds Kevin, words muffled into his sweater.

“Stardust,” Kevin agrees. “But good stardust. Gonna stay with you. Never going to leave.”

Changmin doesn’t remember much of what happens after that. He knows that they eventually pay for everything and Kevin’s partner picks them up (well, they were the one who was supposed to pick the two of them up. He doesn’t actually register the driver’s face, but Changmin hears Kevin calling them “love muffin, better than Beyonce,” so it’s probably them. He refuses to acknowledge any alternatives), but he’s too drunk and too tired to process anything else.

Somehow, he wakes up the next day curled up in his bed, forehead threatening to split from the dull pain. Mentally, he thanks himself for closing the shades before he passed out last night (or was it morning? He isn’t completely sure when he got home) so that the sunlight isn’t adding to his headache.

Get up, Changmin, he tells himself, summoning the strength to swing his legs out of bed. Step by step, he exits his room and slowly brushes his teeth before heading toward the kitchen for a bottle of water or something to get rid of the pounding in his head.

Changmin’s so out of it that he doesn’t register the smell of something cooking wafting out of the kitchen before he’s almost in it. He finally stops, confused, just in time to see your head poke out from the kitchen entrance.

For a second, Changmin just stares at you, brain buffering as he tries to come up with a suitable greeting in his hungover state. There’s this look on your face that Changmin’s muddled mind can’t seem to decipher.

Oh, God.

You look like you’re about to cry.

He panics. What did he do wrong? Did he say something bad last night? He can’t remember anything – how badly did he screw up, what the hell did he do –

Then you leap at him, much the same way Kevin did last night, and bury your face into his shoulder.

“Ji Changmin,” you say, words muffled into his rumpled shirt, “I love you so much.”

Changmin’s mouth can only come up with a confused “huh?”

You pull back, eyes shining with tears, but mouth stretched into a beautiful, beautiful smile. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember what you told Kevin last night,” you say teasingly, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in your gaze.

Slowly, slowly, the events of last night begin to piece themselves together in Changmin’s brain. Every single stupid word he said to Kevin in his drunken stupor comes flooding back in one massive, jumbled mess.

He blushes.

“Ji Changmin.” You cup his puffy, red cheeks between your hands, voice trembling. “Listen to me. I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to slip through your fingers and, fucking, I don’t know, fly away. Because I am not perfect, I am not stardust, but god, I – you’re perfect for me. You are good enough for me, more than good enough for me. You are perfect, and I’m staying here forever. You’re not going to be able to get rid of me. Understood?”

“But –”

“Understood?”

Changmin stares into your shining eyes. Even with you standing right here, hands cradling his face with the gentlest touch, he can’t quite believe you’re real and not just some beautiful figment of his imagination. Slowly, slowly, one of his hands rises to touch the fingers resting against his cheek. Just to make sure this isn’t a dream.

Solid. Warm.

Not a dream.

This is real.

He nods dumbly, a stupid smile spreading across his face. “Okay.”

You crush him close again and this time, Changmin’s arms automatically move to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He can feel a few tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt as you hold him tight, so tight, and he smiles, one hand coming up to pat your back.

You’re here. You’re here, alive, solid, real. He can feel your warmth against his body, feel your hair tickling his skin.

You may be ethereal. You may be something completely out of this world, beautiful, divine. You may be sparkling, glimmering, brilliant in the morning sunlight. You may be made of stardust, something too perfect (he’ll fight you on that) to exist on earth.

But now, with you wrapped warmly in his arms, Changmin realizes that even though you may be stardust, that doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere.

A tear slips out of his eye as he smiles.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 cheek pinch for changmin idk why I just think that’d be fun <3)

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

There Are No Wolves in the Desert

Part 2 - The Tell Tale Knife

(Oberyn Martell x f!reader)

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Summary: After the death of his paramour Oberyn seeks out a local mercenary known as the Shadow Hunter, but who he finds is more valuable than he could have imagined.

Authors notes: Thank you for all the comments, likes and reblogs! I’ve loved Robb and Oberyn since I read the books like 10 years ago now (yes my parent gave me that book when I was like 13 😂) I’m so happy to finally write down whats been in my head for years! Thank you for letting me share it with you💕💕 as per usual let me know if youd like a tag (or untag)!

Tw: Alcohol, violence, threats of sexual assault, swearing, nudity (implied), mentions of sex.

Word count: 4.5 k

Tagged: @evyiione @ayamenimthiriel @xsadderdazeforeverx @agingerindenial (if i missed anyone please let me know im the worst for tagging!!)

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3 years later

The days passed slowly while you remained tucked away, out of sight from those seeking to do you harm. A generous payment kept you safe in the attic of a local blacksmith, the promise of more ensuring you wouldn't be sold out. Once the imminent threat of assasination was over you focused on staying alive, finding the dragon queen becoming a distant memory, one that would have to wait until a more opportune moment presented itself. You used the last of your funds to purchase a horse and sought out work where you could. For a while you served as a healer to those returning from the fighting pits and other skirmishes occurring between nearby cities, until a Lannister soldier showed up searching for you. After that you moved further out of town finding work at a tavern miles from the city walls catering to a variety of characters travelling from near and far.

The owners were good folk, a retired sculptor, her wife and two young children. You’d stopped in for a drink with plans on heading further south, but an incident changed your course. A man came in threatening the owners demanding a payout when you’d stepped in, the man thought it would be easy, and it was at least for you. You helped them bury the body and they’d asked you to stay and so you did; tending to bar, training the horses and offering protection when needed. In return they offered you a bed, hot meals and a small salary despite your insistence that room and board was more than enough. It was a quiet life, a simple life, but one you enjoyed greatly. The noise of war and murder a ditant cry. Only in your sleep were you reminded of the cruelty of the world. The restful days quickly turned to weeks and it wasn't long until a year had passed, as had the memories of who you were.

The rumour of your murder had spread slowly from king landing, uttered from between the poisonous lips of Cersei Lannister, a lie you prayed one day would come back to haunt her. The day the news reached the ears of your employers you knew it was time to leave, and you rode back through the golden gates of the city. You’d resold the horse to a palace guard whose wife worked with the royal stables, training them, breeding them, caring for them, a good place for a faithful friend to live out its days. Noticing the weapons on your back the guard offered you a fee to find and kill a man who had snuck into the palace and murdered three of his wife's favourite horses after their daughter had refused his hand in marriage. He was dead within the hour, and from there the word of your skill in both tracking and murder got around amougst the nobility, and you fell haphhazourdly into mercenary work. If there was one skill you could rely on, it was your ability to unabashedly kill and you quickly became one of Dornes finest assassins. You fell into the work, the ease at which you became accustomed to it frightened you at first, but you had been hardened by loss, and it wasn't as if you hadn’t killed before.

Any semblance of emotional morality long forgotten, unable, or not wanting to have it all come seeping back, fearful of what may surface as a result. Most of your money went to keeping you fed, well rested and off any enemy radars. After the first month, money became more lucrative and you had splashed out on new armoury and weapons, nothing flashy like some of the more ornate dornish assassins who made a show of their profession. They were harmless, though admittedly annoying and from what you heard, not nearly as impressive as they boasted. Your armour was simple, lightweight leather over loose, breathable cloth, and a dark cloak, Its hood heavy and kept drawn well up over your eyes obscuring your face from prying eyes at all times. A shadow on the wall. Your weapons were similar to your clothes, your short swords and longbow were well crafted and durable, no decoration but for a few carved vines wrapped around their ends. Your only remaining identifiers were your eyes, and the dagger belonging to your late husband which stayed with you at all times, always within reach. Any remaining money was hidden away about the city, a retirement fund if you will, assuming you lived that long.

There were bonuses beside finances in your line of work, your ability to disappear into a crowd kept you in touch with the rumour mill. Words and secrets would fall from drunken mouths carelessly. Most of it stank worse than the horse's field after rain, but there were some that rang true, and a few that even brought a rare smile to your face. A young woman had spoken loudly about Tywin Lannister's death and how he’d supposedly died on the privy, causing you to snort into your soup, a fitting end for a coward of a man.

A month later you heard that the prince of Dorne had gone to King's Landing to fight for Tyrion, where he supposedly defeated a man standing well over 12 feet tall. A tall tale of a tall man you think, knowing how royal always sought to increase the truth of their abilities. You had also heard the unfortunate news of Ellaria Sands poisoning , the venom not reaching her veins until the ship had sailed out, no remedy to be found on the vaste seascape. It was a shame, she and the Sand Snakes were skilled adversaries here and they had since scattered in search of answers and allies around the seven kingdoms, to help avenge their mother. The prince apparently had to be restrained to stop him from turning the ship around, that was a story you found more believable. From what you’d heard the prince may have many lovers but he would go to war for any of them. You’d never seen his face, except for on the back of coins or from a distance. If you had you may have noticed him enter into the tavern where you sat awaiting your payment from your most recent client.

Your eyes stay on the table, your hood pulled up well over your forehead giving you a frightening silhouette beneath the candlelight that was beginning to glow more prominently as the sun set. The young man who commissioned you entered, he stank of wine and privilege, but he was rich and the payment promised was well worth putting up with his unsavoury personality. His true odor protrudes through the thin veil of perfume attempting to mask his stench, alerting you to his presence well before he’d sat down. Your time alone had heightened your tracking skills, a side effect of living under the constant threat of being hunted. The wiry man sits down next to you, his thin fingers snapping under your eyes in an attempt to get your attention, you inhale deeply, drawing yourself back to your displeasing reality and forced social interactions.

“Where's the money?” you ask, knife whittling a notch out of the table's leg with Robbs dagger.

“Where the head?” he retorts, and you pull out a small sack, shoving it into his hand watching as he pulls at the drawstring, opening the velvet bag. He raises his eyebrows and pulls out the index finger you'd removed from the corpse.

“Head was…. indisposed. I hope this satisfies,” you murmur, this job had been messier than you intended. You typically weren't so reckless especially with a noble.

“ Very much so, ” he says taking it and turning it in his hands

“The money then,” you restate, tone flat.

“Well there's one more... proposition I had.” He states, hand resting down on your thigh.

“I'll take the money for this job then you can hand me the next target,” you respond, sighing heavily, used to people getting handsy with you.

“You can make extra on this job if you play your cards right,” he whispers, hand running up your thigh. The other reaches up to pull back on your hood within seconds your dagger had impaled his hand, pining it to the table. His wail of anguish causes the heads in the tavern to turn briefly towards the scene before returning to their lively chatter.

“You stupid bitch,” he spits making a grab for the knife but you reach forward pushing it further into the table leaning in towards him.

“The money, or I cut off your head and mount it on the wall of this tavern,” you say, louder than intended.

Oberyn watches from the bar in amusement , the last time he’d seen fire like that had come from Ellaria. He needed someone to help get his revenge, someone willing to murder a man in front of witnesses, his birds had been right, this mercenary was the one for the job.

You rip the knife from the man's hand as he throws you the coinpurse you were owed you reach for it as he stands.

“Bitch,” he spits, liquid hitting the side of your face as he pulls down your hood “you better watch you back mercenary, I'll be taking you from behind in no time.” He snarls, as you hurry to pull your cover back up.

“Clever,” you retort, wiping your face, shaking out the purse and counting your pay out. Empty threats. Or threats you didn’t care about, you could kill scum like that in your sleep, and you had. You mutter another curse under your breath at being exposed, the latest delay in dye shipments had allowed the roots of your white hair to protrude through, lucky everyone inside was too drunk to notice. The money from the job was enough to keep a roof over your head for the foreseeable future, maybe even enough for a bath, it was getting to be that time. You go to stand, you had an ‘appointment’ in town, one with a handsome payout. Before you can stand you see a pair of hands adorned in jewellery slip into your view a scent of sweet fruit and honey indicating a cleanliness and a high status, a very high status, your appointment could wait.

Obery was observant, his eyes had been glued to you even while conversing with the beautiful patrons of the bar, not wanting to lose you in the crowd. “The shadow tracker”. That’s what you had been dubbed by those residing in the city according to his sources, clients of yours pleased with your services, services he was in need of. It seems you may bear more than one secret identity, it may have been for the briefest second, but the colour of your hair stood out against the dark fabric you wore. It intrigued him, white hair was uncommon in those of your age, very rare. In fact he only knew of one person still alive with such a trait. The other, one whom he’d sent a wedding gift to years prior, was long dead, or so the Lannister would have him believe, and when has he ever trusted the word of child murderers. He may have come here in seek of a mercenary, but what he found may prove to be even more valuable to his cause.

“Payments 50 for a nobody, rate goes up with each class, royals are above my paygrade, and nobles will cost you at least 6 of those fancy rings on your fingers,” you list, taking note of the martell sigil embellished on one of the larger rings.

“How much would it be to convince a wolf to take down a Lion,” he queries, hunching his head down to try and catch a glimpse of the eyes under the hood. Your heart drops.

“Above the pay grade, couple down at the docks have a death wish, you might try your luck there,” you explain, deepening your voice slightly in an attempt to disguise yourself.

“And what would be your wish, if you could have it?” he queries, leaning back kicking his feet up onto the stool beside you. As he does the yellow of his robes come into your peripheral the suns intricately stitched on, shining against the murk of the tavern's tile floor.

“To be left alone,” you chide, this was someone well acquainted with the royals here, you didn't deal with royalty, more trouble than they're worth.

“What's that old saying? The lone wolf dies, or am I mistaken? ” he returns, chuckling slightly.

“I don’t know who you think I am but I assure you…” you say, eyes finally raising, only then realizing the prince of Dorne sat before you, at least based on his impression on one of the coins in your hand.

“Lady Stark, I was hoping we’d meet face to face,” he remarks, the long forgotten address catching you off guard causing your eyes to shoot back down.

“Lady Stark died, the Lannisters ground up her body and fed it to the king's direwolf before killing it, haven’t you heard?” you say sarcastically, pulling your knife out of the table, unsure if he’d recognized it.

“Propaganda, set to diminish the power of the north,” he says, watching the blade intently as it's pulled from the table.

“I do not know if Lady Stark is alive, but for a price I could find out, granted you tell me what you need her for,” you mutter.

“I did not come here in search of Lady Stark. I came seeking a mercenary, the so-called “shadow tracker” however, this is a most welcome surprise, as for why I need you, or her, the answer is revenge plain and simple.”

“Is that what they call me?” you remark “ So you seek out a mercenary only to find something better, something you can trade?” you pose shaking your head.

“No, I needed an assassin, but found something better. Something more lethal.” He pauses.

“Which is?” you prompt, hoping to end this conversation sooner rather than later.

“One they think is dead. Besides I figured Lady Stark would want the opportunity to take down the Lannisters.”

“I assume she would, though she may think the offer stands too good to be true,” you state, gathering up your payment and making your exit he follows suit, stopping briefly to gently nudge his hand under the chin of an attractive man standing near the door, no doubt planning on returning later.

“The desert is no place for a wolf,” he calls after you, a significant distance between the two of you now.

“I shall let you know if I see such a sight, my prince,” you shout, dramatically curtsying before turning on your heel and walking off. He smiles before re-entering the tavern.

A week later

You stroll through the dark alleys of the city, a few years ago you wouldn’t have dared ventured out so late. The woods were known to you, their dangers and sights predictable, but the city was uncharted territory. While a bear could be trusted to do as bears do, the movements of man were less predictable. Your work kept you attune to the veins of the city and the people that coursed through them. You knew where to go and where to avoid depending on the day. You knew the sounds, able to pick out when something was amiss and tonight something was. The usual scurry of the rats below or the call of the parrots from above were absent, someone had been through here and not long ago. Your hand dips into the folds of your cape and you throw your dagger catching a man in the neck. You lean over and remove it from his jugular, the blood flowing out from the wound. Before you can turn him over, something hits you knocking you forward onto your stomach. You’re lifted from the ground by the nape of your neck. Your hoods pulled down and your head pulled up to see the foul smelling client and two other assassins standing before you.

“Dirron, Brant, always a pleasure” you snarl

“No hard feelings Shadow, you’re taking out all the business” Brant responds.

“How much is he paying you? Not enough I bet he didn't pay me enough. I'll double it if you let me walk.” you plead, but they shake their heads.

“I paid you more than your worth,” he spits, gesturing to the man behind you and he lifts you up slamming you into a nearby wall pressing your face against the rough brick. You can taste the blood beginning to gather in your mouth. He releases you, handing you over to the unpleasant smelling man who brings the dagger you’d dropped into your view, pressing the steel against your cheek as he begins to speak.

“This dagger belonged to Robb Stark.”

“Did it? I stole it from a client months ago,” you say, elbowing him in the stomach causing him to drop the blade. You catch it, and drive it deep into his knee. He falls, and you unsheathe his sword and throw it catching Dirron in the chest. The large brute gets to you before your next move knocking you in the stomach and pinning you back up against the wall.

“Told you I'd have you from behind,” the client says, limping over to you and spitting on the side of your face. As the moisture hits your flesh a spear pierces through his chest , pinning him to a nearby crate as the remaining two men scatter. You push yourself up spinning to see the prince standing in the alley picking up your dagger.

“Of all the souvenirs to keep, this…” he starts, examining the blade before continuing “ is the most telling. Even with your distinct traits, the Young Wolf's knife is well known, especially by those who saw it made. Dornish steel,” he explains tossing it in the air catching it by the blade and handing it back to you by its handle.

“As I just finished explaining to your dear friend there, I stole that,” you lie, taking it from him.

“No you didn’t,” he says, eyes bright even in the dark, a familiar smirk on his lips, clearly bemused by your attempts at lying.

“Yes I did,” you retort, refusing to let up on your façade.

“Shall we debate it over a drink?” he asks, retrieving his spear from the client's body which falls to the ground with an unpleasant thunk.

“A prince slumming it with the poor?” you ask watching as he uses the dead man's silks to wipe his weapon before turning back to you.

“My enjoyment of life precludes class,” he says offering you his arm

“As you speak from your riches,” you point out, watching him run his tongue along his upper lip.

“We are not as antiquated in our ideologies here, class here is less pronounced” he assures you.

“Is it?” you argue, pushing down on his extended arm and he shrugs his shoulder in defeat, pride faltering only for a fragment of a second at the notion of being rejected. The streets are busy tonight, the warm weather bringing the people out en masse to enjoy the city's nightlife. He brings his hand up to usher you into a nearby tavern by the small of your back, but thinks twice and drops it, not wanting to lose it. As you enter he raises his hand and winks at the barkeep before following you towards the back near the window sill.

“What will it cost you?” you inquire as he sits down, watching over his shoulder as the person behind the bar pours out a decanter of wine.

“What?” he asks, the downturn of his mouth and creased forehead painting a picture of confusion.

“To let me leave here, to keep this a secret, the two men who escaped know who I am now. My time here is up.” you confess as the decanter is placed on the table the bartenders hands trailing across his shoulders causing him to smile fondly up at them.

“I do not wish you to be found. It would ruin the plans I have,” he says, slowly turning his attention back to you, offering you wine. You stare at the decanter, then to him before shaking your head causing him to chuckle

“What? Have I said something amusing? “ you question, almost annoyed.

“Untrusting,” he remarks, taking a sip of the liquid before offering it to you once again. You reach over the table grabbing the cup from his hand.

“I am untrusting because in my experience people cannot be trusted,” you explain taking a sip.

“You husband certainly lied about marrying the Frey girl,” he remarks, leaning back into his seat, arms spreading out across the chairs back.

“I’ve never been married,” you state, wanting nothing more than to punch the smug look off his face.”

“You're good,” he says, eyes giving you the once over.

“At what?”

“Lying, well perhaps not good per say but committed, i'll give you that, you fight in a similar manner.” he presses, hoping to get a rise out of you.

“So, you think I can’t fight,” you say, shaking your head with a laugh

“Your words,” he states.

“I did not come here to be insulted by the likes of you, prince or not,” you scold, sitting up.

“I didn't mean to offend,” he remarks, eyes watching your movements, evidently he’d touched a nerve.

“Didn’t you?” you query, tilting your head.

“No, truly it was not my intention, I merely believe upon improvement,” he explains.

“Hard to improve without practice, hard to practice on your own,” you state, moving to leave, the prince drawing too much attention than you wanted on you. You down the rest of your wine and utter a ‘thank you for the drink’ before bidding him a farewell and exiting the bar. You don't make it far, seemingly unable to shake him.

“Why are you here?” he asks.

“That’s privileged information,” you say, turning to face him walking backwards along the cobbled streets. His eyes fall to you before looking up to the heavens, the stars were bright tonight illuminating his features. The rumours of him held true in one area undoubtedly, he was handsome.

“Come back to the palace with me.” He says, eyes still gazing up at the sky.

“I have no intention of divulging in your pleasure my prince, my heart belongs to another, I swore I wouldn’t stray from him even in death,” you reply, turning back to walk forward spitting blood out onto the street, sure one of your teeth must have been knocked out in the earlier fight.

“While I disagree with more than one of those statements I did not mean to imply, though I would be remiss to say it wouldn’t be of great honour. I heard the Young Wolf betrayed an entire kingdom for you.” he says eyes once again on you, trying to catch a glimpse of your features obscured by the hood.

“Are you suggesting I got my husband killed?” you muse, hearing him tut in disagreement

“You’re dirty, you’re tired, you’re injured and at risk of murder, the palace offers you a safe place to recuperate.”

“And what do you expect in return?” you ask.

“I simply wish to offer you a proposition once you are rested, if you decline, you are free to leave. I will ensure you are transported to a safe location where no one knows you.”

Perhaps it was the itching of your skin, or the way the dye was clinging your out of control hair or maybe it was being allowed to be who you once were, but you agree.

“This is Shana she will help you, unless you prefer a male companion, though I would gladly offer my services” he says, gesturing to an older woman of great beauty.

“I can bath myself, thank you though,” you say, turning and nodding to the woman who bows her head and exits the bathhouse.

“Whatever you wish, I'll have her bring you clothes while we clean yours... if we can clean yours” he muses, the remark cracking a smile in your icy demeanour. He leaves and you undress placing your clothes outside the door as requested. Your bare feet feel refreshed against the cool orange tiles of the bath house, the area evidently meant for the use of many people. Multicoloured tulip petals float atop the water filling your nostril with an aroma unlike one you’d ever known. The steam from the water rises in the cool air of the night and you dip your toe in water proceeding to the steps.

You stride into the water allowing your lower half to adjust to the heat before fully sinking in to cover your shoulder. Immediately the dye in your hair begins to leak into the water blending together with the built up mud and blood that has been stuck to you since your last clean. You scrub your skin until the scars scattered across your body are once again visible in the moonlight. Your hand pauses over the wound above your shoulder, memories of Robb flooding back in, as you assume your true identity for the first time in years.

You dunk your head under the water, scrubbing to remove grime from your face and to work out the last of the dye until it's all gone, your hair returned to its original state. You stay in the water for a while enjoying the heat, but sitting in your own filth is no longer a luxury and you stand up and dry yourself off. Pulling on a robe hung up for you as if they knew you’d be there that night. The cool air hits you as you exit, a welcome relief compared to the heavy heat carried around while wearing your armour. One of the palace guards leads you to your bed chamber, the bed is large and the room even larger. Tiles from floor to ceiling apart from the windows which opened up to the balcony allowing the breeze in at night. You step out onto it, hand trailing through the flowers growing along the bannisters. You thank the guard and he closes the large wooden doors leaving you to change into an orange gown true to the style in Dorne. The thin material leaves little to the imagination, but it would prove good for sleeping though not much else. You turn your head to the room's table where clothes better suited for your line of work sit. Your weapons had been cleaned and lined up across the corner of the room, your dagger shined and stabbed into the wood, holding a note in place.

“Dramatic,” you chuckle, pulling out the knife retrieving the note and opening it ‘winter is coming’ you recognize the handwriting immediately, it had been years but you'd never forgotten the letter you'd received the day at the docks. Perhaps the prince could be trusted after all. You hesitate before folding the note up and placing it back down on the table, walking over to the large bed and falling asleep with the knife tucked securely under your pillow, just in case.

#oberyn martell x you #prince oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x reader #prince oberyn #oberyn x you #oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x y/n #game of thrones fanfiction #There Are No Wolves in the Desert #part 2 #pedro pascal characters

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mudhornchronicles · 3 years

Text

that cantina | din djarin

^ not my gif

pairing: din djarin x f!bartender reader

warnings: sexual themes and outfits, cursing, adult thots...

fic inspired by this post by @flightlessangelwings

a/n: this is my first time publishing on tumblr and writing about my beloved tin can. so pls bare with me. also pls enjoy the read + the little divider thing i just made and s/o to @jangohshit for the awesome url

masterlist

As she picks up her 50 owed credits and wipes away the watery rims on the streaky mahogany bar top left by a patron’s 6th glass of cold spotchka, she commends the Dug’s ability to walk out of the cantina without crashing onto the floor. Dugs may be small and slender, but Maker can they hold their liquor. With the amount of people in the stuffy, ill-lit cantina, she would expect the Dug to bump into something or someone in his alcohol-driven state.

Unfortunately for her, she did not get to see the amusing sight. Instead, she began to sense the sudden feeling of being watched. She discreetly scopes out the cantina and is immediately met with the intimidating figure and intense stare from a very familiar beskar helmet. She smirks over at the Mandalorian and give a slight nod to guide him over to her side of the risqué cantina.

This cantina in particular, located in the outskirts of Canto Bight, was known for the racy atmosphere once you stepped through the door. Many cantinas liked to keep it simple and vintage with a bar top, tables, and space to walk through. This specific cantina was not that. Whether you were looking to have a drink and observe the bartenders clad in lingerie or pay and party with ladies of the night, everyone knew this cantina as that cantina.

She met him about 3 cycles ago. He was looking for a Gungan gone rogue and his tracking fob led him to Canto Bight. When he had asked about the bounty to people in the city, they all told him that he’d find the bounty at that cantina. He began to get frustrated, but then he saw her. As she walked to work, she’d caught his eye. He walked over to her and she smiled at him. Mando had never had someone just smile at him, and Maker did her smile ignite something in him. She walked with him to the cantina with her walking in first and him following minutes later. When she caught his eye again, it was for a very different reason.

The worn leather bustier she wore emphasized her chest so much that Mando had to make sure his visor was not distorting the image in front of him. She wore a yellow and black plaid skirt and some heels whose laces wound up to her knee. He knew she was beautiful, but then he noticed the insincere smile she wore as she worked behind the bar. This job was supposed to be in and out – quick and simple. But meeting her made him want to let the bounty enjoy his 2,000 credits he just spent on a Pantoran lady. When he landed the first time, he told himself he’d never come back to that weird place. Yet, here he is again for what feels like the thousandth time.

She turns around to face the inside of the worn-down bar and adjusts her breasts in her obsidian-colored corset. She always wanted to look her best for her favorite client. She grabs a clean glass of water and turns back around to lean on the counter. All because she is the Mandalorian best view in the place, or at least that is what he's told her.

“Me'vaar ti gar,” he coldly says to her.

She looks into his visor with a stern look. “Naas.”

A lighthearted sound comes out the beskar helmet as he lightly taps the counter and takes a seat. “Kandosii!”

“Don’t know what that means, but what will it be today, Mando? Business or pleasure?” She winks at him while his visor is set on her face. She doesn’t know that the man behind the visor has been in cantina for an hour prior to his approach just looking at the woman he can’t seem to shake off.

“There has never been pleasure, mesh’la. Just business,” he calmly says. She shrugs and passes him the glass of water.

“Never hurts to ask, right? Maybe one day you’ll change your mind,” she says jokingly. “So, tell me. What bounty are you looking for now? I can’t confirm or deny that I have any information for you tonight, but there was a suspicious Twi'lek that came in about an hour ago. He’s on the other side of the bar.”

He looks towards the green Twi’lek and nods. He puts the glass aside and gives her a once over. “When did you get that corset? Last time I was here, you had a purple one. The one with the lace trimming and black ties in the back.” She smiles and looks down. He remembers, she thought.

“It started to get worn down so I sold it for 25 credits. Better than nothing, but do you like it? I just bought it with the credits you oh so greatly left me the last time.” She lightly taps his gloved hand resting on the counter. “What did you say when you left it? Think of it as a tip for your information and all I told you was that there was no Rodian,” she laughs. A modulated chuckle leaves his helmet as he looks at the other bartenders in the place. All in lingerie, more revealing than hers. Although she was wearing a corset, which covered most of her torso, her legs were very exposed. A sight Mando forcibly had to rip away from every time he was here. His mind wandered every time.

The thought of running his bare fingers along the bottom of her smooth legs to the top of her supple thighs.

The thought of how they’d feel wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to her as he fills her with the feelings he can’t verbally express to her yet.

The thought of her thighs pressing the sides of his head as he ea-

He is ripped out of the less than innocent daydream as she’s waving her hand in front of his visor. “Mandooooo. You in there?” His line of tinted vision focuses back onto her smiling face, the smile that haunts his dreams. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

She shakes her head and smirks. “I said if you need any information on a bounty! I have a client who wants me to join his little “get together” and is paying a good amount, so I don’t have much time.” She nudges her head up to a balcony set up in the cantina where other ladies are dancing for a group of Weequays.

He looks up and looks back at her. “How much ae they paying for you to waste your time with him?” She smirks and raises her eyebrow at the warrior in front of her.

“You jealous?”

“Jii, dala,” he warns.

She pouts and crosses her arms, which, in Mando’s eyes, only accentuates her chest. “No fair. You haven’t taught me that, yet.”

He sighs. He straightens up and leans a bit forward toward her. “Cyare, how much is he paying for you to go up there?”

She looks at his visor and feels as if she can look into the eyes of her beloved warrior. She looks back down at her hands. “3,000.”

“Dank farrik,” he whispers to himself. He looks down into his belt and counts the credits he currently has. A grand total of 1,400. He knows he can’t out-do 3,000 credits. He still must go out and get The Child and himself some supplies. They can’t survive on the old ration packs he had for emergency purposes.

Truthfully, she doesn’t want to go up there either. She was already given a new “uniform” by the Toydarian cantina owner for the night. A brown leather bra, black lace panties, black ripped stockings, and, weirdly enough, a pair of old brown boots. Weequays know nothing of fashion she thought to herself. As much as she knows Weequays can get touchy, she knows she can’t say no. She’s getting 1000 of those credits. A 33% share is a rare occurrence for Toydarians and she needs those credits if she wants to eat and have a roof over her head. She looks back at her Mandalorian and decides to lighten the mood.

“So do you like it or not?”

He turns and looks back at her. “Like what?”

She does a slow spin with the smile that can melt Hoth. “The outfit you bought me!”

“It’s nice,” he simply says, still not okay with her upcoming shift.

She abruptly stops and pouts. “Nice? I won’t be getting tips with a nice outfit, Mando. What if I unbutton the top buttons?” She goes to unbutton her corset and takes a step back when Mando suddenly grabs her hand to halt her actions.

“No.” He looks at her hand in his hand loosens his grip, but her hand remains in his. “I- I meant that you look nice in it. Not nice as in cute nice, but nice as in you look…” He stops speaking and looks at her. “You look… you look incredible. Any man would be lucky to have a woman like you at his arm.”

She feels almost giddy inside, as if her elementary school crush finally came up to say hello followed by her name. She looked at her hand in his as she felt a light blush form across her cheeks. “You really think so?”

Before he could answer, the aforementioned Toydarian cantina owner flies over to her all the while yelling her name. She immediately let go of her Mandalorian’s hand and acknowledges her boss. He begins yelling at her for not yet changing for her appointment with the Weequay group and she notices the beskar covered warrior tense. Mando stands and faces the Toydarian and begins to speak, but is cutoff by her.

“Don’t worry, boss. I was just wrapping up this client’s order. I’m going. You’ll get your 2000 credits.” She begins to push her boss away.

“You better make them happy. They’ve got loose pockets.” The Toydarian suddenly grabs her chin “If they say jump, you say how high. You got-“ She follows his gaze over to her Mandalorian, only to see him pointing a blaster at the Toydorian’s head.

“She’s going to do what she’s comfortable doing, you got that?”

Her boss chuckles and shakes his head at the bounty hunter. “She’s going to do what is going to make me money.”

She tries to interfere, but the bounty hunter grabs her boss by his face’s trunk. “Listen here, you oversized Kowakian. They aren’t going to touch her and she’s going to do her job. That’s it.” She tries to convince Mando to let the small creature go, but the warrior wasn’t done. “If I hear she was uncomfortable in even the slightest, it’s your trunk on my wall. Do you understand?” All she saw was her boss frantically nod in agreement and fly away as soon as Mando let go. She looks over at the Mandalorian she has grown to harbor deep feelings for.

“What the hell was that!”

He slides his blaster back into its holster and places some credits on the counter, more than what an untouched glass of water costs.

“You’re going to do your job and so am I. You see the biggest Weequay in the group?” she looks over and nods.

He activates the tracking puck, revealing that the Weequay leader was coincidentally his bounty. “Stars, Mando! If you are catching him, then why are you so worried about me going up there?” He looks over to her and shrugs.

“Why would I want you to be in that position?”

She smiles at him and lightly gives her own shrug. She checks the time and takes the still untouched glass of water. “Well Mando, it was nice to see you again. Should I expect you in the next couple of rotations?”

“Possibly.”

She lets out a small laugh and she takes the credits for the water, leaving the rest. Before he can protest, she catches him by surprise with her departing choice of words. “You know Mando, sometimes I think you might love me.” With that she laughs and waves a goodbye as she walks away to ready herself for the Weequays.

He watches her leave and his eyes direct themselves to her behind. Those small shorts that leave little to the imagination as they shape the swells of her ass beautifully. He is a man after all. He smiles to himself as he recalls her previous statement. He lets out a small chuckle as he stands to scope his bounty. “Yeah… might.”

mando’a translations:

Me'vaar ti gar [Meh-VAR tee-GAR] = How are you? (Lit. What’s new with you?)

Naas [nahs] = Good (Lit. Nothing)

per mandoa.org “Me'vaar ti gar = How are you? (Lit: what's new with you?) Can also be used to ask a soldier for a sitrep. If a Mando asks you this, they expect an answer; it's literal.. The response for *I'm fine thanks,* is *Naas.* (Literally - nothing. )”

Kandosii! [Kan-DOH-see] = Nice one! Wicked! Well done!

Mesh’la [MAYSH`lah] = beautiful

Jii [gee] = Now

Dala [DAH-lah] = Woman

Cyare [SHAH-ray] = beloved

tags:

@flightlessangelwings @din-damn-djarin

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #that cantina #star wars

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

Text

Title: Kismet {12}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy

Words: 4.2k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: How are you guys liking the pacing of this story? I think this might be my slowest burn of all. 😬😬

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

When one thinks of a vacation, you think of beaches, sand, salty ocean water that you can see right through, a blazing sun that is a joy to be burned by, tropical drinks, lounging by the pool in a hammock with an endless supply of bathing suits. When one thinks of the quintessential French vacation, you could think of waking up the smell of flowers from the countryside and the ocean salt, the warm caress of the sun as you sip your French coffee, lounging on the beaches, touring the countryside by day, feasting on the best authentic French cuisine, sipping the best of wine country offered all the while soaking up culture and relaxation. In other words, live like the French.

Your vacation, though it started awkwardly, didn’t remain that way for too long. You and Henry had made it a mission to take relaxation and freedom to the max and, by doing so, you had created somewhat of a routine. Usually, either you or Henry would make breakfast and coffee then have it outside. After breakfast, you’d both lounge by the pool for an hour or two. That was before you found out he liked to work out first thing in the morning. Though you weren’t much for working out, you vowed to do it with him. which led to you having your coffee and then out for a run through the fields. He often went four miles out then four miles back, but when he realized you were not a runner, he cut it down to two and two. Even that was torture for you.

Then once you’d returned and showered, whoever came out first would make a simple breakfast that you’d have out back and then to the pool. After you’d take a drive, often going miles and miles checking out neighboring towns seeing sights. On each day, Henry always had something planned. One day it was a tour of a vineyard where you learned all about the winemaking process, helped harvest grapes, and even did the traditional squishing grapes with your feet. That was the day Henry had the brilliant idea to play up your ticklishness, which led to you falling in the barrel staining your white shorts ensemble red. He laughed his ass off to that. By the time you left the vineyard, both of your outfits were ruined, but you had plenty of pictures and a crate of the wine you’d made.

Another day it was sailing around the Mediterranean in a boat that Henry manned himself. You couldn’t help but watch in awe as he steered it like a pro and taught you the proper terms for things on the boat. When he’d found a good spot to drop anchor close to some rocks, you lounged on the hull soaking up the sun, then taking a dunk in the ocean when the heat became too much where you snorkeled around the reef. On a particular day, he took out a speedboat to St. Tropez for shopping and spa treatments that really had your entire body feeling like jello.

While he liked to spoil you with luxurious options, he also liked the rugged things too. He taught you how to fish and took you on multiple nature walks. While you enjoyed nature, you realized you didn’t like it as much as he did. According to him, he would choose to be out in nature as often as he possibly could. You were slowly beginning to enjoy it as much as he did. A few times, you took him to a club where you saw firsthand that he was a real party boy in another life. You liked the club nights because it showed you a whole other side of him. The side that was carefree, able to cut loose and not take himself seriously. It was a side you made a silent vow to bring out as often as you could.

To round out the experience, he did as the French and took advantage of France’s natural romance. There were plenty of romantic dinners at romantic restaurants that overlooked the ocean or the cliffs or the city lights and even a few at romantic vineyards with the view of the rolling hills and a sunset. The romance was not something hard to find, and it wasn’t always in going out. You spent plenty of nights in the villa lounging together with candlelight in the room and a gentle breeze wafting through the opened doors while watching something on tv together. While it was awkward before, you were becoming more and more comfortable around him.

This comfort also helped you feel closer to him and though you teased each other often, said sly things to one another, and even flirted shamelessly, nothing else of significance had happened. Henry didn’t make any moves to kiss you or cuddle or even hug you, really. The most he’d done was hold your hand at the most sporadic moments, for the shortest amount of time. It made no sense, and it drove you crazy because you could feel the attraction between you in everything you did. You could sense the desire in the air was strong, but everything remained lukewarm.

Though your comfort level rose, your insomnia never subsided. When Henry had gone to bed, you often remained up just writing music, journaling, or making things with the pictures you’d taken throughout the day. Your sleepless or low sleep nights gave you the chance to either reformulate your plan or think about your progress. A lot of times, thinking about the progress had you thinking about him, and if you did that, it was only a matter of time before your mind drifted to your want for him.

It was funny to you that before him, you could push affection, intimacy, and sex to the side and act like they were not even actual things, and it never bothered you or had any effect. Since Henry, it was damn near impossible. You thought about his touch at every turn, about his lips more times than you could count, and imagined him between your thighs at least once every other day.

One night it had gotten so bad from remembering him swimming in the pool in slow motion. Everything he did was in slow-mo like he was posing for some men’s porn magazine. That was the night you had to please yourself to thoughts of his wet lips, memories of his voice, and body as it moved through the water and muscles as he hoisted himself up out of the water with it dripping off of every inch of him. that night, it was the quickest you’d ever come. You wondered if he was struggling the way you were, but throughout the days, you saw no evidence he was, and that made you more insecure than you’d ever felt in your life.

~~~~~~~~~

-Nine Days Later-

The night was young—well, young for you. While Henry slept, you found yourself in the back yard with the breeze brushing against your bare skin. The glow of the moon beamed down on you, bathing you in its pearlescent illuminance, making you feel like a goddess of the night. It could have been the moon, the fact you were naked under it, or the 2nd bottle of wine you were on. It didn’t matter what it was; you felt good. The wine made your thoughts flow more freely, and where your thoughts went, your pen in your notebook mapped. You got your best writing done at three in the morning when you were naked and feeling wine-nice.

With your pen hooked on your bottom lip, you looked over the new lyrics you’d written for a song that Henry had inspired. The notebook was filled with at least ten more from the same muse. This song was the night’s second one. The first centered around your anxious thoughts about making the first move and how to do it in a way with little to no risk, and your worries of being in the friend zone the second was drastically different. This one focused on you admitting your attraction, the possibility you were falling for him, and your fear of him making you feel out of control. It was raw and real, the realest you’d been in a long time when it came to your feelings.

The words across the page were sensual and painted a clear picture of arousal and desire. As you hummed to yourself the way you imagined it flowing, you began replacing your hums with words. You quickly got lost in your process and zoomed through putting everything down on paper. Once your brain sparked off, it never stopped until it finished the mission.

“Aliya?”

You turned to the sound of Henry’s voice, forgetting your state of undress. Almost immediately, you gasped and grabbed the blanket holding it to your breasts.

“Shit.”

Henry was already turned away, his back facing you.

“Um--.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. God, I—shit.”

Henry snorted then slowly released a breath in a loud huff.

You rearranged the blanket then spoke, “You can turn around.”

Slowly and cautiously, Henry turned to you again. With your lips pressed together, you gave him your best apologetic face.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you were asleep. I didn’t think you’d come out here,” you explained.

Again, Henry snorted then chuckled to himself as he nodded his head. You were so embarrassed that you covered your face.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered one last time.

“No need for sorries,” Henry began trying not to make eye contact. “It’s um—it’s okay.”

The awkwardness had returned.

“I didn’t see anything. Don’t worry.”

You didn’t believe him one bit but pushed any remaining awkwardness deep down and fought through it.

“Don’t you sleep at all?”

“Not really. Remember, insomniac.”

“I know you said that, but usually insomniacs can manage something,” Henry said.

“Um, well, since I was diagnosed, I can on occasion get three or four hours tops.

“Wow. We’ve been sharing this house for a little over a week, and I didn’t know that much.”

You smiled and took another sip from your glass. “You’re off the hook, you actually sleep, and it’s great.”

“How long have you had it?”

“Since I was maybe eighteen,” you explained.

“So what do you do when you’re not sleeping?”

After finishing your glass, you moaned and leaned back in your chair. “Walk around, find a good spot to sit, write, sometimes go for a drive, online shop, work. Usually, it is mainly work,” you confessed.

Henry gave you a stern daddyish look. “Are you working now?”

You bit your bottom lip and scrunched your face. “Guilty but only sort of. I’m writing music. That’s not work for me. For me, it’s a component for my sanity.”

Henry nodded. “So you sit up all night naked writing music?”

The way he put it had you laughing out loud.

“Wow, pretty much. Fuck, when you sum it up like that, you make me sound like an insomniac exhibitionist.”

You laughed together for a few short moments. “Can’t they prescribe something?”

“They have, quite a few things actually. When I was eighteenish, I was on several sleeping pills. I was the guinea pig, and I must have tested at least twenty brands and formulas, but none of them seemed to work well with me. Of course, they had to monitor my intake to make sure I didn’t become addicted, but after a few years, I said, forget it let’s not try anything anymore. I just stopped taking the pills and sucked it up,” you clarified.

Henry looked impressed. “So you function on three hours of sleep?”

“Pretty much.”

He whistled then bowed his head. “Wow.”

“it’s not bad. Honestly, it might be a blessing in disguise. I get so much work done they wouldn’t believe.”

“You literally make money while others sleep,” Henry joked.

You softly snickered and nodded.

“Do they know why it started?”

He was asking all the right questions, you thought to yourself.

“Yeah, we know.” You really didn’t want to say anything else, and you had a mini internal fight. Groaning, you continued. “Trauma.”

You could feel his eyes on you, and you rearranged your things on the table and picked off invisible lint off the blanket, all in an effort to not look at him. Though you were physically naked, you felt emotionally so as well. Taking a risk, you glanced at him and held his gaze. He was unreadable.

“Here,” Henry said, holding out a spoon to you.

“A spoon? What’s this for?”

Henry smiled and took a step toward you. “Close your eyes.”

You scoffed and wrinkled your nose before you closed your eyes and waited. You didn’t hear anything and wondered what he was doing.

“Uh—hello? Henry, are you there?”

The sound of Henry clearing his throat told you he was in a different location that was somewhat closer.

“I’m here. Open.”

When you did, you looked around expecting something but not sure just what. When your eyes landed on the ice cream before you, you smiled.

“For your massive sweet tooth.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. He’d learned a few things about that sweet tooth over the last week. This was him being cute about it.

“This Is my favorite flavor and brand. You don’t play, huh.”

“Of course not. I pay attention.”

“Thank you.”

Henry nodded, then pulled another spoon from behind him. “Cheers?”

You knocked your spoon against his and said the same thing. Henry sat beside you while you opened the ice cream, then both of you dug in. the first spoonful had you moaning so loud it echoed around you.

“That good?”

“Mmmm, so good, better than sex,” you joked.

“Then I am sorry, Ms. Taylor, you are having sex with all the wrong ones.”

The spoon paused at your lips as you quirked your eyebrow at him. Henry wasn’t backing down, though. He held your gaze almost like he was challenging you. Damn, you thought before you looked away first.

“So you write all your own songs?”

Nodding, you put another spoonful of ice-cream in your mouth. “All by myself.”

“Impressive. I know artists try, but not a lot do it alone. There will usually be a few co-writers,” Henry added.

You were a little surprised he knew that. “You’re right. More and more try to get on it for the added profits that being a writer brings in. for me, I do it for far more selfish reasons.”

Henry quirked his brow, silently asking you why.

“I need an outlet, something to get everything in my head out. I’m up for twenty to twenty-one hours a day, and I have a lot going on in there. So, I need to be able to get that out to start fresh the next do, that means---I write.”

The way Henry’s eyes rested on you made you feel like he had so much to say, but he was holding back with doing so.

“It’s good to have an outlet.”

“What’s yours?”

His goofy smile made a return, and you couldn't help but smile back.

“Don’t judge me, okay, but it’s video games.”

You smiled and raised your hands. “No judgment here, ever.”

“I like video games, Warcraft, Witcher, Call Of Duty, HALO. Anything bloody, I’m there for it. I also use exercise a lot. I have to work out, have to.”

“Have to?”

Henry took another spoonful of ice cream and sighed out. He looked like he was thinking about something, and you gave him the time needed.

“Yeah, when I was a kid, I was heavy--,” he began sighing. “I was a fat kid, and it meant I got teased and bullied a lot. My nickname was fat, Cavill.”

“Oh no, that’s horrible.”

“Yeah, plus I was at private school. Let’s just say—it was hard, really hard. I had some dark times, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t stick with me some even to this day.”

You bit your bottom lip, reached your hand out, and rested it on his knee. Your heart sank thinking about what he’d gone through. You knew how painful words could be, especially as a child. “I’m sorry. Kids can be such assholes.”

Henry snorted and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “They sure can.”

“Plus, I could tell working out is a joy for you. I’m not blind, and neither is the female population of the world and some of the male.”

Henry’s laugh was unexpected but welcomed all the same. You liked his laugh, and the more you heard it, the more it was becoming one of your favorite sounds.

“Seriously though, I’m sorry you went through that. I know it couldn’t have been easy to work through.”

He looked down at your hand that was still on his knee and nodded before he cleared his throat.

“You mentioned you’re close with your grandmother?”

Taking your hand back, you rearranged the blanket again and nodded. “I did. Yeah. She’s my mother’s mother, and she is—she’s my world.” With a soft smile on your lips, you quickly went through your fondest memories with her.

“I don’t think it’s healthy to depend on her as much as I do, but--.” You shrugged. “She helps me with so much, like being forgiving, being more open, being a better person in general. She gets me and doesn’t judge me or make me feel like something is wrong with me. In her eyes, I’m—Corrin, my middle name, and it’s great. All the pressure I constantly carry around is gone.”

Talking about how much your gramaw meant to you made you emotional, and the sting of tears in your eyes told you just how emotional you’d gotten.

“That’s great to have at least one person in your life that can do that for you. you’re lucky.”

“Yes, ha, she’s—uh, she’s the reason I’m here,” you confessed. Henry looked very interested to know what you meant.

“How so?”

“She uh, she just reminded me of a few things and pointed some other things out to me,” you said, giving him the CliffsNotes version. You could tell it wasn’t going to cut it, though, so you continued. “She pretty much made me think from a different perspective, the one that I was desperately trying to ignore.”

Henry still looked interested, but he nodded. “I have to thank her because I’m glad she changed your mind.”

You studied him for a little while as you put another spoonful into your mouth. “Are you?”

Henry didn’t look away or give way to any emotion on his face. He just nodded. “Yes. I’m glad you’re here.”

You didn’t see any indication that he was lying or stretching the truth. You did notice that the pull between you was still there. Henry was the first to look away this time, and the two of you continued to share the half-gallon container of ice cream while chatting. He told you more about his private school days and painted a clearer image of what he was like as a boy, and the image you got was absolute adorableness and tenacity.

By the time you both walked back inside, two hours had passed, and the beginning of the sunrise was peeking out behind the mountains. You stood in the long hall that separated your room from his clutching the sheet wrapped around you and your notebook.

“So, in the morning—or a few hours we’ll catch a flight out,” Henry confirmed.

“Still won’t tell me where to?”

Henry smiled, rubbed the back of his neck, and shook his head. “You don’t like surprises, do you? This is the fifth time you’re trying to pry it out of me.”

You pinched your lips then groaned. “No, no. It’s not that I don’t like surprises. I love surprises—well, good ones. I just like to know every detail. I like--.”

“Being in control,” Henry finished, hitting the nail right on the head. You knew it was the loss of control that was making you antsy.

You closed your eyes and slowly breathed out.

“Yes. I guess I might have a control problem.”

Henry looked very amused. “Might?”

The two of you laughed together, and you couldn’t believe the call out.

“Shut up.”

“It’s okay. I get it. I like control too, a whole lot, and I don’t usually like when control is taken from me, but I’ve gotten better with it. Now, I won’t die if my control is taken. Then—it felt like it.”

You nodded at yet another thing you had in common. It was becoming more than you could count on your fingers.

“Good for you, but I—I might die.”

Henry laughed again, this time not with you, at you.

“I’m going to make you a promise. By the end of this vacation, you will be better at giving me control,” Henry said, his voice so deep and commanding that your spine tingled. When the tingling traveled around to your gut and moved downward, you clutched the sheet tighter.

“Oh, will I?”

He smirked; it was a cocky one. “Yes, you will. I don’t break promises. Never have.”

Your eyes locked, and that tingling intensified, making your lady parts beg for some attention. He was downright captivating, and it was so hard staying on your side of the hall.

“All you have to know is that I won’t abuse my control. You can trust that. You can trust me.”

You almost made the yikes face hearing the T-word. You knew he remembered you saying that trust was a tricky thing for you, and you also knew this was probably a test. You were in between a rock and a hard place. After sighing out, you spoke.

“Okay.”

“But, you do have to say these five words, though,” Henry said with a smirk.

“What?”

“I—relinquish—control—to—you.”

With every word, his voice got deeper and deeper, his eyes more and more focused on you. It was so easy to get lost in them, and he must have known it.

“Uh—no. I can’t say that.”

“Sure you can. I know it’s not easy, but I promise you will not regret it.”

Your nose flared, heart raced, mouth went dry, all points of your anxiety. You hated feeling backed in a corner, and you hated giving away your control even more.

“Will you relinquish control to me?”

With a grin, he spoke, “I will.”

“When?”

“One day,” Henry said, that grin still on his face.

Of course he’d say that you thought. “How about, I will try,” you appeased.

“Nope. Not good enough. I want it all, Aliya.”

You groaned and ruffled your curls, still clutching the sheet with one hand. He was not going to let up.

“God, Henry.”

He didn’t say anything, just waited. He didn’t even look pressed like he was worried you’d say no. He looked confident, commanding, and in complete control, and it called to you. There had never been any other man who you’d ever thought about giving control to. None of them felt like him. He felt different.

“I,” Henry perked up but kept his eyes firmly on yours. another thing you loved about him. “Relinquish—control,” you paused again, feeling the full weight of the words you were going to release. You weren’t just saying that you were giving him control to make the decisions. You were giving him control, period. That was when the panic picked up. “Control to,” you rolled your eyes then hissed. “You.”

The silence stretched, but the longer it went on, the less anxious you felt. Yeah, there was some residual panic lingering, but the look in his eyes only comforted you.

“Thank you. I know how hard that was for you,” Henry softly said.

You looked down and took a shaky breath. “You have no idea.” When you looked back at him, he was still staring at you. “Okay. Well, good night, Henry.”

“Good night, Aliya.”

A visible shiver ran through you, but you ignored it and turned around to walk to your bedroom door. After a few steps, you stopped and smiled as an idea formed. Instead of walking forward, you turned around and walked back to him. Once close enough, you tiptoed, threaded your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck, then pulled his head down to yours. It was then you pressed your lips to his.

From the second your lips touched, it felt like you’d been standing out in the rain and gotten hit but a lightning bolt. Your moan was loud, and once it slipped out, Henry grabbed you, pulled you flush against him, and held you there. The hand on your hip squeezed while his right hand sneaked around your back to press his palm against your tailbone. That was when you realized you wanted more—a lot more. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, then nibbled, sinking your nails into his curls. You were second away from dropping the sheet, so you pulled back, grasping to the fraying threads of your self-control. Henry’s eyes were still closed, giving you a few extra seconds to admire his beauty. He still had the same effect as the first time he’d kissed you.

“Good night, Henry,” you said again, pecking his lips once more before walking away again.

Though you’d given relinquished control, you just took a little of it back. It felt good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

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#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x black ofc #black fanfiction #slow burn fanfic

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miss-ali-lawliet · 3 years

Text

Just the three of us after a long day

A Matt + Mello + Reader fic!

After the dream I had with these two, I honestly feel like I had to write something based on it so I hope you enjoy it! So this has what happened in the dream and the feelings I had during it + some other little things and details to make it feel more complete, you can see this as a friendship or as something romantic, it’s honestly up to you and how you view it!

I hope you all have a great day/night wherever you are <3

CW: This is mainly filled with fluff, but there’s the mention of smoking (it deals with Matt, so probably not too surprising)

Word count: 1740

You walked through the front door of your apartment, a tired yet relieved sigh escaping from your mouth outwardly as you reached the comfort of your home. Accompanying you was one of your roommates and long time friends, Matt, who had a cigarette hanging almost loosely from his mouth as he walked in behind you, closing the door and locking it. Both of you worked your shoes off a bit clumsily, feeling yourselves becoming more relaxed as the scent of smoke wrapped around you both the longer you remained inside. The smell of the place might come off as unfavorable to some, but to you it just made you think of home.

“Well that was a lot more fun than I thought it would be “ He’d ask, a lopsided grin growing as he finished taking his shoes off first, watching as you slipped off your second shoe and set them behind his pair a bit messily. You’d fix it later, but right now you couldn’t be bothered.

“Yeah, thanks to you of course.” You’d reply with a chuckle, smiling back a bit warmly as you looked up at him. “Today was definitely something we both needed after focusing on work. I wish Mello could have joined us though, I think he would have had a lot of fun too”

Matt listened to you, unzipping his vest as you both made your way into the apartment. He nodded in agreement, ashing his lit cigarette into one of his many ash trays that laid around your home.

“I wouldn’t take the blame fully, you definitely made it more enjoyable for me at least” He’d say as he looked at you, at the mention of Mello he frowned slightly but nod in agreement with you..

“Oh definitely, next time we’ll have to drag him out with us so he’s not so focused on this Kira case for once. He won’t have a choice at that point” He’d reply with a small chuckle to lighten that topic, slipping the cigarette back into his mouth. “Thankfully our job wasn’t that hard, and what a nice coincidence that the arcade was nearby”

You rolled your eyes as you laughed softly, nudging his arm gently as you leaned against him a bit tiredly. You weren’t surprised he changed the topic, as both of you were worried about your other friend but you both also knew when he had his eyes set on something, Not even you two could snap him out of it. So you’d just go along with it for now as you put your weight against him a little.

“Yeah sure, a ‘coincidence’ huh? Is that the excuse you made?”

“Maybe,” he’d chuckle, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and giving you a slight squeeze. Even though he said that the job was ‘easy’, it definitely took some time to complete it.

You both were tasked with going back into Misa Amane's residence, while she and a man from the Japanese Kira task force were out, to do some more searching. While there you both also made sure all the wires and taps Matt installed weren’t affected by anything, and it all looked fine even though neither of you found anything new. By the time you guys were done, you already felt tired as you got in Matt’s car and you could tell he felt similarly. Instead of driving you both straight back to the apartment though, he ended up taking you out to get some fast food and took you to an arcade he heard about where you both just messed around for a couple hours. Mello was off doing something else on ‘his’ side of the case, not giving too much information on what he was doing but you and Matt knew not to press him too much and be patient with him. Until then, you both let him do his part as you did yours.

You just enjoyed the closeness of being next to Matt and found yourself almost melting into his touch, any sort of tension beginning to release. You enjoyed the couple of moments of standing near the door, but he began to lead the way towards the living room shortly after.

“Do you think he’s home?” you’d find yourself asking him softly as the thought of Mello popped in your mind again as you walked with him, but before he could respond you saw your answer.

In the living room, there was the familiar blonde laying on his back on the couch. You found another smile growing on your face seeing that Mello was indeed home, but you found yourself wondering how long he’d been laying there. Before you could even open your mouth to greet him though, the other male would turn his gaze towards you both. His blonde hair looked a bit more messy as it went over the scarred portion of his tired looking face. His expression to others wouldn’t mean too much, but as you looked past his calm expression you could see how tired he was and in his blue eyes there seemed to be a lot of other emotions stirring underneath his exterior. You’ve seen this look before and what it entailed, you wordlessly moved from Matt’s side as you made your way over to him. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, brushing some of his blonde strands aside as you sat down beside him.

“I’m assuming you had a long day?” you’d ask gently, the orange and pink sky from the sunset peering through the semi-closed curtains on the window. It definitely added warmth onto both of your features, especially his. Even with the aftermath of the explosion, he still managed to look perfect to you. Something that would never change.

His gaze seemed almost distant, as if lost in a way. He just sighed hearing the question, shrugging but the look he gave you said it all. You opened your arms to which he’d move towards and pull you into an almost tight yet gentle hug. You don’t know what happened and you didn’t plan on pressing him about the matter, all you know was that he seemed shaken in a way and needed your comfort. Matt went to the other side of Mello, resting a hand against his back gently as you held onto your friend. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, the room going silent again as the three of you sat close together, you and Matt doing what you could to comfort the person closest to you both. Matt would move briefly to ash his cigarette once again before putting it out entirely. You felt Mello’s weight against you, and the exhaustion from the day seemed to have finally caught up with you finally with his warmth against your own.

You nudged his side gently to get his attention, to which he’d pull back to see what you wanted. You motioned for him to move a bit as you moved up a bit on the sofa before laying your head back onto a small pillow leaning against the arm of the couch. Once you got comfortable, Mello didn’t need to see you opening up your arms to see he could get comfortable as well. He would move on top of you carefully before laying down with his back against the couch, his head resting on your shoulder. You let out a soft yawn, your left arm resting around him as your right arm lays over the edge of the couch.

Matt tossed his vest to the other side of the couch as he took his goggles off and set them by the ashtray on the table. He was sitting towards the edge of the couch as you and Mello got comfortable, but once you both seemed content he made his way over and laid on your other exposed side, wrapping his arms around the both of you as it became his turn to get comfortable. He rested his head on your other shoulder, smiling a bit as he let out a yawn of his own. This wasn’t the first time the three of you did this, and definitely wouldn’t be the last. At this point in time the three of you didn’t even need to ask or say anything, it was a routine of sorts as you went to your places even if the positions seemed to switch depending on the situation or your moods.

You found yourself resting your eyes as you all found yourselves reveling in the silence, simply listening to one another’s breathing as well as them listening to your own heartbeat. You felt yourself beginning to slowly drift off into sleep, and you could tell that the other two were falling to the same fate. No one said anything, just enjoying the warmth and comfort between the three of you. You couldn’t help but smile softly as Mello’s grip on you softened more as the minutes passed. The last thing you recall is hearing the blonde murmur something softly against your shoulder, loud enough for you and Matt to hear.

“Thank you…” You didn’t have the time to question him on who or why he was saying thank you as he had fallen asleep seemingly right after the words left his lips. Matt chuckled softly, snuggling closer against you as he gave you both a gentle yet reassuring squeeze in response before he fell asleep as well rather quickly.

You smiled faintly, opening your eyes to get a brief look at the two men that meant the world to you. You would always find yourself worrying about the future when it came to the dangerous case you worked on, but when it came to times like this all you felt yourself enjoying the present, any thoughts of the future, any thoughts or worries slowly escaping your mind for the time being. The warmth of the sun was fading slowly as the sky darkened behind the curtains ahead, meaning another day was at its end. You listened to their steady breaths and felt their hearts beating against you faintly, easing any other remaining fears you had for the time being. They were safe and they were with you, and that’s all you could ask for really. You rested your eyes once again slowly and it didn’t take long for you to join the other two in their slumberous states.

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hcrringtonshair · 3 years

Text

All Mine

Modern!Ivar x Reader

Warnings: some cursing, fluffy Ivar and jealous and lil bit needy Ivar ... but that's it :) Word Count: 1735

A/n: I suck at giving my writings names. So here's another shitty one haha. There will maybe be a second part bc of the open end, but we'll see 🙃(Maybe the gif doesn't really fit but do I have to mention that his smiling is just adorable ?)

Masterlist

You barely remembered the last time when you had Ivar all for your own. It was kinda like the first time in an eternity.

He was so busy with his history study at the university of Copenhagen, and then he threw himself into work on his personal interests.

He also spent a lot of time with his three brothers, at least one of them was always there when you two met, besides that he still lived with his mother. You liked Aslaug, even that she was a really over caring and protective mother because he was her youngest son and because of his legs.

So you were really looking forward to that day. He promised it would be a whole day only for you and him, and he would never break a promise. He picked you up early in the morning and spent the day with you outside.

Long walks weren't his favorite, but he knew how much you loved being for hours in the green, enjoying the bright colors of the trees in the sun. The fall was beautiful and the day goes on so fast that it was already dark as you two returned to your apartment.

"What do you want to do next?" His cheeks were still light pink from the cold outside and his blue eyes were shining bright which made a beautiful contrast to his dark hair.

"I don't know. We could order pizza and watch a movie. You choose." You shrugged and handed him some of his clothes which were still in your closet. "Pizza sounds great."

Before you could pick up your phone from the bed he wraps his arms around you and laughed as you screamed while he threw you besides him on the bed. "You idiot! I could have fallen."

"I would never let this happen." His wide smile showed his white teeth, and you couldn't resist and smiled back as he lays back to watch you.

"You okay? I don't want you to be in pain." It was a long day, and now you felt guilty for being the reason why his legs hurt. Looking at his legs in concern, but he shakes his head. "It's bearable. Don't worry." Not satisfied with his answer and still worried you take your phone and you both choose a pizza. Right after you ordered it the discussion of which film you should watch began.

"Let's make a compromise and watch the first Harry Potter movie and then Thor" Your whole body was shaking from your laughter because Ivar was tickling you for too long. He was also laughing and out of breath as he laid back into the pillows.

"No no no, I want to watch all Thor movies" It wondered you again how he admired the Thor Movies, but to be honest, after all it wasn't a huge surprise.

"But why? You know I will sleep after the first half of the second movie." You pouted which made him laugh again. "That's the plan" he gives you a wink before bursting out in laughter again.

"That's mean Ivar. I thought we spent the whole day together. Which means at least until midnight." Your remaining pouting face leaned over him.

"Don't." He tipped against your lips, and you turned back to a not so serious face, "We watch the first Harry Potter movie and there's no way to change my mind. After this movie you can watch as many Thor movies as you want."

"Fine."

You stared at each other until your eyes wandered down to his full pink lips and of course he noticed. With a grin his head shots forward and pressed his lips on yours into a passionate slow kiss. His fingers gripping your neck to pull you closer, your legs moved by themselves until you sat on his lap.

You were only breaking the kiss as you both running out of air. His cheeks were bright red and his eyes shining happily when you opened your eyes. Sure you had kissed each other today, but not like that. It was like both of you had waited for that moment.

The heated atmosphere in the room went cold when the bell on the door rang before you could kiss him again. You groan into his shoulder before you stand up. "Must be the Pizza."

But unfortunately it wasn't the delivery guy. Your neighbor standing in front of you, with a big grin on his face as you opened the door. "Hey y/n. Interested in going out to the new bar down the street?" You could hear, most likely, a plate bursting on the kitchen floor and steps in your direction.

"Jakob, thank you, but I told you I have a boyfriend, and I'm not interested." With a friendly smile and calm voice you hoped he would go directly but Ivar was there before Jakob could take one step.

"Hi I'm Ivar. her Boyfriend. Unfortunately we are occupied tonight, so see ya!" Under his exaggerated friendly voice you could hear jealousy. Before Jakob could say anything else, the door was shut in front of his face and Ivar stared at you.

"Is this the one you told me about?" "Yeah. Now probably he will think you are a madman." You roll your eyes with laughter and return to the living room. " I am." Ivar walked behind you, he was so near you felt his body against your back. "When it comes to you."

"I'm sure he will never talk to me again." With a grin you turned around to face Ivar, still with a dark look in his eyes. "I hope so. You are mine."

After you persuaded him to sit on the couch and let you bring the dishes to the table in front of the couch, you looked at him as he watched at the TV.

"Y/n"

You froze as he caught you staring. He had made himself comfortable all over the couch, his chest rises and falls calmly, one hand in his hair which falls loosely on his shoulders.

"Ivar."

Concentrated on sounding calm you walk to the couch, stop when you're at the level of his head. "Like what you see?" With a big grin he touches your leg, his hands wandering up and down before he pulls you forward. With a happy sigh you sit on his lap again, careful to not hurt him.

"I thought about going to this Jakob tomorrow and give him a message he won't forget." The grin turned into a devilish one and his eyes were burning in anticipation of what he had planned.

"Ivar no." Whatever he had planned the poor Jakob wouldn't ever be the same person, and you didn't want to be responsible for that. "Why not? He's nothing but a neighbor. I'm just making sure he will never bother you again." You melted by his good intentions but shook your head.

"Fine. Then I'll show him otherwise that he has to keep his hands off of you." Before you could make a move he already took you down into a heated kiss. His lips moving perfectly with yours, parted your lips with his tongue and swirled around synchronized with yours. Muffled moans of yours echoed through the room and the air heating up again.

"You are all mine." He bites your under lip which causes you to moan louder. With one hand he held you in position, the other buried in your hair. "Ivar..." Under your breath you tried to stop him from kissing your neck because it was again the doorbell which catches your attention. For the second time this evening the bubble around you burst, and it took another few seconds for Ivar to let you go.

"God damn it! If it's that Jakob again I will rip him into a thousand pieces!!!" The Pizza deliverer heard Ivar's furious shouts and his eyes went big. "Everything's fine. No murders tonight." You giggled by the uncertain look on the face of the kid who must be not older than 18. You gave him the money and a tip before you wished a good evening and returned to your boyfriend.

You started eating by watching Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone which Ivar commented with yawning and malicious snorting from time to time. When the movie was over you cleaned up the table before you would start with the Thor movie.

"Finally it's over. I thought I would fall asleep before he even came to Hogwarts." You rolled your eyes as you made yourself comfortable between his legs again when the intro started. "Shut it Ivar, I want to watch the movie." One kiss on his shoulder, and then you concentrated on the movie.

After a while you stood up and earned a confused view from Ivar. "I want to braid your hair." Your high voice and pouting face let him sigh. "Fine." You switched positions so that he was sitting in front of you and while the movie continues you were busy with his hair.

"Are you done?" You thought Ivar had fallen asleep, he didn't say a word since you started braiding his hair, so you flinched as he raised his voice. "I am. Looking good." A bit proud of yourself you let go of his hair and kissed the top of his head.

"Are you tired?" His voice was calm when he brushed his fingers from your knee up and down. From the side seeing him biting his lip, eyes still focused on the screen. "Not that much. But if you want to go to bed I'm fine with that." "The day is not over yet. So we stay awake."

Ivar decided to watch some TV shows after the movie was over, while you've been falling asleep from time to time. Calmed down by the random voices of the TV and dimmed light, your nails massaging the scalp of his head when your eyelids become heavy. Ivar noticed after a while that your finger movements stopped, "Let's go to bed. It's late."

Half asleep you nodded, watching him turn off the TV and go back to his feet. A few steps away from the bedroom the doorbell rings again which made you flinch and Ivar growl. "Who's this? It's 3 am in the morning." With his most unfriendly look Ivar went to the door followed by you.

✧ • ✭ • ✩ • ✦

Ivar the Boneless Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius

#ivar the boneless edit #ivar edit #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson x you #Ivar ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson edit #vikings #vikings writer #history vikings

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yourillusoryenvy · 4 years

Text

Just a dream

This is my first time writing a one-shot and sharing it with people. I’m really excited but also super nervous! I am open to feedback, questions, ideas, anything. Just let me know your thoughts!

Word Count: 1,032

Note: (f/n) means “friend’s name”, I had no idea how to abbreviate so I just shortened it to (f/n). So in the couple instance you run into the abbreviation here just plug in one of your closest friend’s name.

*3:34AM, (y/n)’s bedroom*

Your eyes jerked opened. You could feel it.. It was here.

It had been weeks since you first started feeling this uneasiness. No matter where you were and what you did, you could not shake off this feeling of being watched. Could it be that you were being followed? But by who? And why? For revenge? Money?

You were an average person. A good student, with a few friends and a somewhat normal family — at least from an outside perspective — , normal hobbies, no crazy exes, no enemies per se, and no known stalker.. On top of that your family wasn’t rich and, for now, you were drowning in student debt. Your part-time job as a cashier only allowing you enough money to pay your bills. So money couldn’t be the reason. And neither you nor your family ever wronged anyone to warrant stalking so… Why would someone follow you?

This is exactly what your friends had asked as they laughed off your concerns. They were right. You were being silly, maybe even completely paranoid.

For weeks you had attempted to shrug off the feeling, repeating yourself it was all in your head, until a few days ago. You had started loosing sleep over it. Your own room did not feel safe anymore. It felt like someone was here, with you, in your room. Unable to ease your worries, you had started pulling all-nighters. After four days without sleeping, surviving on various caffeinated drinks, you were barely a shell of yourself. This morning, after seeing your exhausted face and your difficulty focusing in class, your friend, (f/n), had offered to stay at your place for a few nights so you could get some rest.

And here you were. Laying in bed next to her. You could hear her calm, steady breathing. She was sleeping, unbothered by the presence in the room. You could almost touch her, so close yet so far... You were paralyzed, frozen by fear, your body refusing every one of your desperate plea to move.

As your eyes started adapting to the darkness, you were able to faintly discern a tall humanoid shadow in the far right corner of your room… On second look, there was no mistake: it was a human, a man to be exact. His face was lightly dimmed by the device he was holding in his hand. Your first guess would have been a phone but the shadow of the device showed weird angles that you couldn’t make sense of..

You wanted to scream, to run, to turn on the light, to wake up your friend, to do something… Anything. But you couldn’t. Your body refusing to cooperate, leaving you as a mere spectator of this terrifying scene.

Your eyes were glued on the figure, as you were trying hard to pick up on any characteristic that would help you identify the man. Unfortunately, all you could make out was that he was relatively tall and lean; maybe even muscular considering the shadow of his arms. His hair must been short to mid-length per the few strands falling on his forehead. His face appeared to have soft features, and he was… smiling? No visible scar, no tattoo, no strong recognizable features. You couldn’t even see his hair or eyes color.

“Just turn on the light… Just. Turn. On. The. Light”, you repeated mentally as if it would change something. Instead, all you could do was carefully watch for any movement. But the shadow stood perfectly still.. Did he know you were awake?

When your internal pleas did not help, you slowly started focusing your attention on your right hand. “Just move one finger. He won’t see it”, you bargained internally. After a few agonizing minutes that felt like hours, you were finally able to move your pinky. The ability to control your body slowly spreading in your other fingers, your hand and arm. “Just turn on the light”, you implored yourself one more time.

You took a quiet but deep breath before lunging on the light switch that was on your left. The warm white light immediately filled your room. As you turned your head to get a look at the the far right corner, to see who was here, you saw…

Nothing.

“(y/n)?” (f/n) grumbled, “What’s going on?…. Turn off the light and go back to sleep!”

“N-n-nothing… I-I’m.. Sure.. I-I’ll leave it o-on for now” you apologized, still trying to process what had just happened. (f/n) sighted and turned around before hiding her head under the blanket, as she fell back asleep.

You heart was racing from the adrenaline pumping in your veins.. You had experienced sleep paralysis before, but this time it felt different. It felt real, even now that you were undoubtedly wide awake. But no human being could have left the room in such a short amount of time. You must have only taken your eyes off of the shadow for a second, two maximum. No-one could have made a run for it, completely quietly, in that time frame. Was it just a very bad nightmare? Maybe it felt so real because you were so sleep-deprived? Or maybe were you making it up? Had you gone crazy?

You slowly laid back down still questioning your sanity. While you did not want to let your guard down anymore, the comforting light, the presence of your friend next to you, and the lack of rest in the past 4 days, were enough to convince you to attempt to fall back in a much-needed sleep. After all, it wasn’t real, it was just a bad dream…

…Or was it?

*3:47AM, a few streets from your appartement*

“That was close call” Feitan noted while walking, hands in his pocket, next to his fellow troupe member. Shalnark only answered with a laugh, his attention focus on typing something on his bat-shaped phone. The young blonde had clearly enjoyed the thrill of almost getting caught.

“Why wait? Why not take her now? We thieves, we take what we want, when we want” Feitan continued.

Still smiling, Shalnark looked up from his phone, a smile plastered on his face. “Toys are meant to be played with”.

#hunter x hunter #shalnark x reader #shalnark #feitan #fanfic #oneshot #shal #fei #yandere #yandere shalnark

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janekfan · 3 years

Text

Always

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27834016

WHEEEEEE a speedy write! For @celosiaa and @captaincravatthecapricious for the teeny bit of trans martin :3

“Professor?”

“Mm.”

“Sir, excuse me?”

“Mm?”

“Uncle Jon!”

“Moll--What??” Jon lifted his head from where he’d been staring at his phone, leg jiggling under the table and one folded beneath him in the chair. “What did I say…oh.” Clearing his throat, he let his eyes wander along the queue, absently counting the gaggle of students he’d inadvertently left waiting. “Oh.”

“Are you alright, Professor?”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed.” They had the decency not to snicker, lord they were too good to him. “I’ve been. Well...”

“Distracted.” Molly offered up, finishing his sentence sardonically.

“Quite.” She must have seen something in his face because she frowned.

“Is it, is it Uncle Martin?” Fear, barely conveyed in the miniscule tremble in her voice, had her reaching for her own phone, checking for any messages she might have missed while it was silenced.

“He’s fine, he’s. He’s been under the weather.” And Jon allowed his own anxiety to show, dragging both hands through his hair to completely ruin it. “A, uh. A chest infection. He’s alright. Emma said she’d be in touch if.” It was fine. Martin was fine. It had been so long since the Lonely had taken hold enough to make something like this dangerous so if the humming, jittery, worry would be kind enough to leave him alone and let him finish this class--

“You should go home, sir.” A chorus of “yes, of course” and “we understand” followed suit and he glanced at the clock. Class had barely begun.

“No, everything is--” the notification for a message lit up his cell and the jingle threw the room into quiet and he nearly dove for it. The bank. An advert. Wonderful. “--Fine.” But he wasn’t so sure. That nagging, unsettled, gnawing drone in the back of his mind where the Eye still liked to lurk, to spy, flooded him with second thoughts.

“We can email with questions. We’ve done it before, no worries.” And while Jon didn’t like being reminded of his worst days, they had a point. He wasn’t unreachable. He had appointments with all of them during his upcoming office hours. A firm hand landed on his shoulder, squeezed, Molly.

“Go home. I think we’ll all feel better for it.”

“If you’re absolutely certain--and, and you promise, promise,” he lifted a stern finger, “to contact me if you have trouble?”

They all but shoved him from the lecture hall, Molly already handing him his cane, another student fetching his coat and scarf from the hook while he packed up the most pertinent work. It was Friday anyway and this section was very tight knit being made up of students he’d had the pleasure of teaching before. Too good to him, indeed.

Rushing, Jon made the next train with seconds to spare, firing off a quick text to Emma as he exited the underground right as her number flashed across the top of the screen.

“Baba?” The word trembled. He was right to leave when he did.

“I’m here, Habibti, I’m coming home.” Juggling his bag, the phone, his cane-- “I can see our flat.”

“O’okay. See you soon, Baba.” Within the next moment he was through the door, all but throwing off his coat, leaving his shoes wherever they fell to stride quickly into the sitting room.

“Martin.” Just a breath, relief, at seeing him laid out on the sofa, feet up and elevated, with a cold cloth over his eyes. Emma hugged him, rubbing her face into the worn wool at his shoulder and he took the time to drop a kiss to the top of her head. Soon she’d be too tall for that. With Martin’s scolding in the back of his head, Jon opted to sit beside his legs instead of kneeling on the floor, taking a warm hand in his own. “Hayati.”

“...Emma, I tol’you, darling…” Gravelly, ruined from coughing, and Jon interrupted.

“I was already on the way when she called.” Gently, Jon rubbed his thumb in tiny circles over his skin and Martin sighed, shaking a wet cough loose from somewhere deep in his chest. “That sounds awful, love.”

“He fainted.” Jon pushed all the concern away, turning all his sharp attention to his husband.

“...li’l dizzy, that’s all.” Sentences short, leaving him gasping, and Jon didn’t have to Know that his fever was climbing as it was wont to do in the evenings, instead pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead. He kept his frowning to himself.

“That doesn’t exactly make me feel any better.” He removed the flannel and used it to wipe down his face, his throat, the bit of his chest peeking from under his tee. No binder, he knew better, but still. “You’re burning up.” Bless her, Emma appeared with tea and medicine and Jon maneuvered himself and a protesting Martin so he could curl up against him instead. He was a furnace, oozing heat, and even Jon who always ran so cold, began to sweat. “Oh, Hayati.” Murmuring a few more soft things, he swept the cloth over the back of his neck.

“Jon…” carefully, he drew in another measure of air, barely a lungful. “Don’...ha, feel well.”

“I know, love, I know. It’s alright.” Jon peppered his cheek with kisses, accepting the pills and tea, cajoling Martin into downing both before burying fingers in his lank hair. The tension in him relaxed as he melted further into Jon, the wheeze in his chest pronounced but he’d keep an eye on it. “Well done dad-wrangling today, Em.”

“...’eeey.” Martin coughed into his elbow, hastily tossed over his face, and left it there.

“Hush.” Once everything had a little time to work on that fever it would be straight to bed with him. (Which he never should have left in the first place). “Homework?”

“Yes, Baba.”

“After I put dad to bed we can order take away.” At least her face lit up at that. Martin’s last bout of illness had planted fear deep inside the both of them, but there was nothing to suggest that he hadn’t just pushed himself too far. He’d ask just what he was attempting to accomplish later, if he could remember. For now, he settled into the quiet, listening to Martin’s soft snoring of which he would adamantly deny, and debated whether or not he could be convinced to take a hit off Jon’s own inhaler. “Alright, Hayati, up you come.” In this moment, Jon wished he was strong enough to carry him up the stairs, like Martin would do in these sorts of situations with him, but he could lend him support.

“...Couch’sfine…”

“It isn’t.” And with no more air left to complain with, Martin focused on putting one foot in front of the other, panting heavy when Jon left him sitting on the bed to rummage for a soft set of pyjamas. He was less helpful than he wanted to be when trying to assist but before long and after another full glass of water, Jon was pulling him into his lap.

“Mmh.” Cuddling closer. “M’sorry, Jon.”

“Whatever for?”

“Nng…”

“I feel I have to ask for clarification because there’s nothing here necessitating apologies.” Tone low and even, the goal was to soothe. Accepting care was not one of Martin’s strong suits and Jon supposed he could forgive him that one minor transgression. He began smoothing a hand up and down his back. “Falling ill is no one’s fault, Habibi.”

“Din’ have--” He broke off in another fit and Jon levered him forward so Martin could hack properly, offering another sip of water before laying down with him and wrapping him up in his arms.

“I will always come home when you need me.” Overwhelmed and weepy from fever, tears began to slip over the bridge of his nose, soaking into the pillow, and Jon kissed them away, cupping his cheek in one hand to brush away the damp with his thumb. “Know why?” Stubborn, Martin shook his head, tucking himself beneath Jon’s chin and pulling in a shuddering breath, exhaling slow and following the steady rise and fall of his narrow chest to sleep. “Because I love you, Hayati.”

#TMA #the magnus archives #sick martin #martin blackwood #jon sims #emma au #emma!#eds jon #cane user jon #martin gets some tlc #i picture this happening somewhere after like that big medical scare he had earlier #hurt/comfort #fever #sorry it's tiny!

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botanicials · 4 years

Text

backpedal

... in which harry accidentally moans the wrong name

... word count: 4.4k

... theme: angst

Being memorable was one of Harry’s most redeeming qualities, you had figured that out early on in your relationship.

Not only would he remind you about plans you’d made with friends or meetings you were scheduled in at work; he’d remember the small things, like when once whilst telling a story from years ago, you’d mentioned that you could only tolerate cherry-flavored cough drops. Two months after the small comment, you’d caught a cold and amongst the care “basket” (large reusable grocery bag) he packed up was a heavy bag of cherry Ricola.

He knew that when your nose scrunched up, you were having a hard time keeping your thoughts at bay, which perfume you wore according to the season, which sweaters you preferred whenever you were over at his because “Harry it’s cold out why would you possibly need the A/C on at night?��.

One thing he happened to not remember however, at such an unfortunate time, was your name.

It wasn’t like he’d just gotten back from promos, recording, writing even, or that the two of you having sex was anything new for fuck’s sake. He was back from the states, the album has been done for months, and it wasn’t even fifteen hours ago that you two were in this very position.

There was no other reason for his mind to be elsewhere. No other reason for him to focus on anything other than you.

It happens when he dips his hips at a certain angle, the back of your head digs further into the pillow and he buries his face into the exposed side of your neck, warm breath sweeping over your skin as a groan escapes his lips.

You could feel nothing but him: the weight of his body, the thin layer of sweat on his back under your fingertips. His movements seemed so impulsive, habitual and that made the entire situation so much worse.

He brought his hand down to grip your waist, lips parting open. “Fuck, Cami-…” His throat closed up, body seeming to instinctively stop himself from saying her name as his eyes flew open in a panic.

Your hands immediately fly to his shoulders as you push and turn your head to the right, eyes unable to reach his. “Off. Get off, get off–”

“I didn’t..” His words die out and he removes himself from you and rests on his side, arm now supporting most of his weight. “Baby-” he whispers, reaching to try and grab at your wrist but you’re too fast.

One second you were under him, holding, pulling on his forearm to have him closer; and the next, you were pushing him as far from you as possible, grabbing the throw blanket sat at the end of his bed and wrapping it around your body before practically sprinting to the ensuite bathroom.

“Love, love, love, love, love…” his words are rushed as he quickly follows after you, not bothering to cover his lower half. The haziness in the room had dissipated, and he now found himself in panic mode trying his best to get to you as soon as possible.

Yet again, he isn’t fast enough, because the door slams right in his face and he has to snap his fingers from the frame so they aren’t caught. “Baby, I… shit.” He whispers to himself, grabbing at his sweatpants that were left tossed over the armchair.

None of this feels real to him. It can’t be because he couldn’t have possibly just done that. There’s no fucking way.

It’s as if he’s watching all of this unfold from someone else’s point of view. It’s as if he’s dreaming; his head is spinning and nothing makes sense- this can’t be real.

His fingers tremble as he ties the drawstring taut around his hips, shaking his head to himself as he moves over to the door.

“I don’t…” Fuck. Fuck. “Wasn’t thinkin’ about ‘er. I wasn’t. And I… I know that sounds like absolute shit, but I swear it. Baby, I… I wasn’t thinkin’.”

His heart is beating out of his chest as he explains because he loves you. He does. Told you that for the first time just four days ago. You’re easily one of the best things that have ever happened to him in such a long time and this wasn’t anything but an accident. There was no deeper meaning.

“Don’t know what else t’say, darling… I’m sorry. I am- and I know that might not mean much right now but I.. I’ve never been more sorry.”

It’s when he hears you sniffle from behind the door that his heart drops even further and tears sting his eyes. His hands rest on his hips and he tilts his neck back to blink up at the ceiling.

Things were just starting to become real with you-- not that they never were, but the two of you weren’t just dating anymore. He was getting ready to introduce you to his family, he had just started thinking about the thought of you two being together. The house and the kids and a ring and it’s fucking ridiculous, he knows that, but now it isn’t. Now, it’s borderline impossible. All because of tonight.

A slip-up.

He’s aware of how selfish he’s planning on being; preparing on asking you to look past his mistake, to forget that this had ever happened, but at this point he needs you. It’s desperate and pathetic but it’s all he could bring himself to be at this moment.

A handful of minutes pass of a teary-eyed Harry pacing back and forth in front of his bathroom door and you sniffling from behind it before he decides to finally sit on the wooden floor beside it.

You both stay like that for a while, quiet sitting nearly back to back on opposite sides of drywall and it’s not like you two, not knowing what to say, what to do, or how to act around one another. Not in so long, so the feeling is too foreign. Unwelcome.

Harry clears his throat. “Just… take as long as yeh need, love. M’right here.” He finally says and the thought of you wanting him anywhere but there makes him rest his head in his hands. A part of him knows he should leave to another room, give you some space. Yet that same selfish part of him wants to do nothing but hold you as close as possible and explain himself. Explain what happened those moments ago, even if he didn’t know how. He just wanted a chance.

About fifteen minutes go by before he speaks again. It’s nearing two in the morning and you’ve been quiet for a while so there’s a possibility you’re asleep, but he decides to gamble.

“I love you.” He starts. “I meant it when I said it the first time and I mean it now. So.. so much, angel. Yeh have no idea like… really s’just– this whole thing is..” He runs a hand over his face before resting his elbows on his bent knees. There’s no way this was good for his back.

He’s frowning to himself as he prepares. “When I said- When I almost said Camile’s name I–”

His apology is cut short when the ensuite door practically slams open and his head snaps over to catch a blur of navy blue fly past. You’re still wrapped in the velvet soft blanket, nothing too out of the ordinary, only you’re not half asleep asking him to “Please stay a little longer?” with a soft pout at your lips.

No. Right now you’re fast and focused, throwing his white comforter around in search of your clothes. You aren’t begging him to get back in bed until the sun comes up, you’re trying to remove yourself from the room as quickly as possible.

Harry’s standing now, lingering as he rubs at the knot growing in his neck, eyes on you.

“Baby-”

“Please.” You breathe out, hand spread out in front of you. “I can’t right now, Harry.”

The sound of your voice makes him freeze, arms falling to his sides as you resume searching for your bralette, he’s assuming, considering you’ve already snatched up everything else.

In these last twenty to twenty-five minutes, you’re clearly exhausted; and if his mind is running miles a minute he can only imagine what scenarios you’re thinking up. He understands, really he does because if he was on the other end of things he’s not sure what he’d be presuming right now.

It’s just that he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to sit back and watch someone that’s made him look forward each day leave without putting in any effort. He’d beat himself up over this entire situation even more if he didn’t at least try.

“I wasn’t thinkin’ straight–“, he decides to repeat. Everything he rehearsed in his head is long gone and he finds himself unable to elicit what he’d already said from the other side of the door. “Wasn’t thinkin’ at all because it’s just you. S’all you. Just sit and-” He panics when you finally grab the white lace that was twisted in his comforter and make a beeline back to the bathroom. “Woah, woah, woah.”

He’s able to catch you before you can make it this time, his hand wrapped loosely around your arm, eyes trying to find yours. “Love…”

“Let go.”

He murmurs your name and his shoulders sag. “Look a’ me. C’mon-”

“I said let go.”

The room goes quiet as he stares at the side of your face and you realize how heavily your actions affect your future; what effects these next few moments would have on what could be the remaining of your relationship. Every decision you make right now is going to alter whether you and Harry will end up together or not. And that’s all too much right now.

You reluctantly turn your head to look over at him; with your red-rimmed eyes and in a raw voice you whisper, “.. I really can’t right now.”

Harry’s lips are rolled into his mouth when he nods his head, eyes falling to the ground before removing his hand from your skin.

He has to take in a shaky breath when you close the door behind you, sniffling as he wipes at the wet under his eyes. He’s realized that you leaving tonight was the only option for right now, no matter how much he wished it wasn’t.

Harry Sunday 4:36 AM I love you so much, darling. I wish I could apologize a million times over. I understand if you need time but whenever you’re ready to talk to me, I’m here. I’ll wait for you.

Harry Monday 11:12 AM Just woke up. I’ve got a meeting at 1 until 3 or so, but if you need me please don’t hesitate to call. I love you.

Harry Yesterday 9:02 PM Know it’s late, didn’t forget about you. I was at another meeting. Still here, love you so much.

It’s past-noon now, however many days later, and Harry is sat on the lounge he had on his backyard patio, a thick blanket heavy on his shoulders. The outdoor fireplace was lit in front of him, warming mostly his legs and the mug of hot chocolate he sat on the small table beside it. Flurries in the air confirm the fact that he should not be outside, but he’s always found the sounds of the river a few meters down to be therapeutic, icy ripples that weren’t yet frozen over resonating as the sky turns into a hazy purple.

He’s able to think back on how much you enjoyed laying up with him out here. There was usually a book in both your and Harry’s hands, maybe a homemade drink if Harry was feeling particularly generous.

He brought you out here the first time you visited his house, it was around the same hour it is now; the sunset, the snow wind, the ripples. You’d both gotten into such a spellbound conversation that he’d forgotten to give you a full tour; the two of you stayed out there all night just… talking and Harry doesn’t think he’d ever appreciate such a simple moment more.

Speaking with you was always effortless up until now, where he’s only been in contact with you once a day for the last few. Through text.

He didn’t want to overwhelm you, he knew you wanted-- needed space, so he succumbed to daily texts, so you knew that he was still fighting. The last thing he needed was for you to think that he gave up.

Flowers or edible arrangements… they crossed his mind, but this wasn’t something that could be fixed with something materialistic; you deserved so much more than that.

Harry Today 6:58 PM Hey.. I hope you’re doing well. Our coffee place has a special on the cinnamon bagels you like. x

“That was cordial,” he says to himself, reading it over a couple of times before tossing his phone on the cushion beside his leg.

You hadn’t answered the last three messages, he doesn’t even know if you’ve read them-- and a part of him wonders if he isn’t trying hard enough. Are you expecting the flowers and chocolate covered fruits? Him on his knees begging at your front door?

Deep down he knows he knows you, and any other day he wouldn’t second guess you needing your space, but you seem much too far away than he’s used to and his confidence in his knowledge of you is beginning to slip away.

His phone dings and he jumps, heart buzzing as he looks at the notification.

Mitch Today 7:06 PM You still going to Los Angeles next Thursday?

“For fuck’s sake…”

Harry Today 7:06 PM Don’t know yet, I will by Wednesday. x

It’s a second after sending that he receives another message.

Today 7:07 PM I’m doing okay, thank you for the exposé.

Harry’s heart stutters as he rereads your name at the top of the notification. Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

Okay? Much better than bad, so he takes that as a positive, just like how he took the fact that you’d left your toothbrush at his as a good sign as well.

Harry Today 7:09 PM Course. x

Harry Today 7:10 PM I could grab you some? I’m on the way out to the store.

Lie.

Today 7:12 PM it’s okay, don’t want you to go out of your way.

Harry Today 7:13 PM It isn’t, really. I don’t mind.

Harry Today 7:13 PM And I’d really like to see you.

It’s the longest you two have gone without seeing each other whilst being remotely in the same area. He’s convinced himself that the sniffles he’s had for the last few days are allergies and not from him being a bit lovesick.

He stares once a grey text bubble pops up on his screen, taunting him almost as he tries to anticipate your response.

No.

Too bad.

Fuck off.

Fuck you.

Those replies all seemed pretty rational to him, it’s what he expected; so when the text bubble disappears, his eyebrows pull together in a nervous furrow. His thumb reaches up to pull the screen up as if the messages would refresh, and flinches when you resume typing again.

He figures that a short message would be better than a long one, but a long one would be better than nothing; so he settles.

Today 7:16 PM is that a good idea??

Harry Today 7:16 PM It’s all up to you, love. I didn’t mean to force anything,

Today 7:17 PM you aren’t, I appreciate you giving me the space you did.

Today 7:17 PM if there’s a sale, do you think there will be any bagels left at this hour? haha

At that, Harry finds himself smiling.

Harry Today 7:18 PM Welllllll, for your sake I would hope so.

Today 7:19 PM if they don't, I'll take a cinnamon roll then.

Harry Today 7:19 PM Cinnamon roll or cinnamon bagel. Noted. See you in 15?

Today 7:19 PM yeah, the complex gates should be open

Harry Today 7:19 PM :)

“Don’t stress about it, you’re just gonna make yourself cry again.”

“Shut up, Anais..” you mumble, frowning at your laptop screen. Your friend only smiles, applying more of the mellow green face mask to her cheeks. “It’s just… not gonna be the same, I could feel it through the fucking screen, it’s weird now. And I know I’m being dramatic--”

“No, no, and no, I’m joking. You can’t be sorry for feeling hurt. He’s thinking about an ex, of course that hurts, it’s a problem.” Anais was the only person you could bring yourself to tell about the entire situation, far too embarrassed to bring it up to anyone else. That, and the two of you are the polar extremes of the same personality so you balanced one another out. “Whether it was an innocent mistake- which is what I’m leaning towards the most -or if there’s even the slightest possibility that he’s still got more feelings for the girl than he should.. babe, you have every right to feel upset either way.”

“See, and what’s fucked is that I figured as much in the beginning. They’ve only been broken up for like a year, but he went and wrote like.. almost an entire album? There’s got to be some kind of-” You circle your hands in front of you. “- deeper connection there. You know?”

Anais twists her lips. “Yeah, I know.”

“I can’t be upset with him for feeling how he feels, but I can be upset about him stringing me along.”

“Mm! That’s good, write that down.” She points at your phone through the screen. “Just not the stringing along part. Too harsh. Say… upset about him being with you when he doesn’t know what he wants.”

You get as far as typing doesn’t before you sigh, setting your phone down on the couch beside you. “This isn’t gonna work, I feel like I’m prepping for a presentation.”

The two of you conjured up a bullet list of highlights to mention ever since Harry said he was on his way, as of now, all you had was:

don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry

“I’ve decided that I deserve more because I do”

try to bring up feelings?? somehow?

talk about how you’re feeling and then how it affects the relationship?

“You don’t have to read it right in front of him, just reference it before you open the door so you have like, some idea of what to say. Do you know what you want to say?”

“No, and he could get here literally at any minute now, fuck.”

“Okay, okay. New plan.” Anais starts, and your face is buried in your hands. “Ditch the phone. Just.. when he’s in front of you, you’ll think more clearly. You said that once, right?”

“It’s different now.” Your words are muffled.

“You’ll figure it out. You figure everything out.”

With another sigh you drag your hands down your face and leave them covering your mouth and chin, Anais sees easily through the screen that your eyes are watered over. “I’m so fucking scared, Ana.”

And it’s true. Clearly.

In the small number of months you’ve been together, Harry had become someone you couldn’t quite imagine life without. He was so warm and inviting, homey. Once one of the easiest people to talk to and now somehow you couldn’t fathom him sitting on your couch in a few minutes, a place he’s been more times than you could count.

You didn’t want to lose him and right now that seems like the only resolution.

Your best friend watches you from her own apartment, her face turned down into a frown. You’re cuddled up with your biggest throw at the very left side of your couch, laptop sat on the console you situated in front of you. The lights were dim, curtains and blinds wide open displaying the snowfall. You should be sipping on Stella Rosa from the bottle with that cliche ABC movie Snowglobe playing, but here you are on the verge of tears over something so minuscule yet complicated.

“I don’t know.. it all just seems so inevitable-” You pause when three solid knocks sound at your front door. “He’s here.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I’ll…” You take in a deep breath and move the blanket from your lap. “I’ll call you back?”

Anais nods, a small frown on her features. “Text me if I’m not awake. Love you.”

You try to smile. “Love you.”

You didn’t realize how much the white noise of Anais’ call filled the room. Everything went quiet, and Harry’s presence from behind the door is evermore distinct.

Your sock-clad feet pad lightly upon the wood floor, your nerves seemingly pulling you in the opposite direction. Thoughts of you sat on his bathroom floor reappear in your memory; the embarrassment of not feeling like enough, the regret of deciding to go over to his in the first place.

If he never invited you over for homemade soup none of this would’ve happened, you’d be tucked under his arm trying not to fall asleep-- but it then makes you wonder if this was something that needed to happen. That you were only a temporary fix before he could go back to the one that still held onto his love strung heart.

With your fingers on the deadbolt lock, you twist and push down on the nickel door handle. A rush of frosty air slips from outside and into your foyer, the wind shifting the baby hairs off of your face.

Once the door is fully open, you find Harry’s stood in a thick white sweater and navy coat, a soft blush has grown upon his nose and cheeks. His hair is much curlier than usual, toppled over to one side thanks to the unpredictable weather. He’s holding a bag from Coldwell’s in his right hand and under his scent of vanilla and pine, was the sugary smell of cinnamon bagels. He’s squinting ever so slightly and his lips are a deep shade of pink. Despite it all, you find yourself admiring your boyfriend and for that small moment, everything that happened that night is forgotten.

“Was gonna knock again, wasn’t sure if you’d heard.”

“No, yeah, I did. Sorry, I was-” You clear your throat. “Sorry.”

Harry frowns and you realize then that he’s been outside for a bit too long now. “S’fine, no need ‘t apologize.”

“Um, come in.” You say, stepping behind the door and Harry moves to shuffle through. You shut and lock the door as he toes of his boots.

There are a few tiny snowflakes still sat in his hair and any other time you’d brush them away and bring him in for a kiss.

Now, you only glance up at them and quickly advert your eyes before finding your way down the hall.

The two of you end up on your couch, you on one end (where you’d been bundled up majority of the week) and Harry in the middle. There was an incredibly odd amount of space between the two, but him being here isn’t as incredibly off-putting as you imagined it would be beforehand.

His coat is hung up in your front closet, and the bag of bagels he’d promised you sit on your coffee table, the heat of them creating moisture on the wooden surface.

You shift to tuck your foot under you, moving a stray hair from your cheek. “I’m not really sure where to start,” you admit, focused on the fluff of your blanket.

Harry sniffs and clears his throat, gaining your attention. “I love you. And I know I’ve said it countless times now I just.. Me saying her name that night was.. nothing but an honest mistake-- wasn’t actively thinking about her I-I know that Mark asked me a question about her maybe the other day? Like, beforehand and.. tha’s the only like, reason I could think up of why I said it.”

You’re silent, allowing him to explain himself the best he could, so he continues.

“Know s’not something you could just.. forget about and move on from-- I’ve hurt you in one of the worst ways possible. Know that completely and I.. I can’t apologize enough, love.. I just want you to that I’m recognizing that I was in the wrong, you know? Not that you.. are putting any blame on yourself-- fuckin’...” He sighs, running a quick hand over his face and it’s clear that there are tears gathering in his eyes. “I dunno, I’m like, ramblin’ now-”

“No, I um.. I think it’s more humiliation than anything. Not that I shouldn’t feel the way I do, it’s just.. fucking embarrassing.”

“I’m sorry. I am so so sorry.”

“I know-”

“No, y’really don’t because I.. really don’t want to lose you over this, you’re.. undoubtedly the best thing that’s happened to me in so long.”

“That doesn’t mean that there might be lingering feelings for her, H.”

“But there aren’t,” he nearly cuts you off.

“I care about you,” you start. “I do. And this.. entire situation kind of just made me.. think about my worth. Um... I promised myself that I’d never let someone have that much of an effect on how I view myself because I’m always going to be me, you know?”

Harry nods, eyebrows drawn into a frown and you continue.

“So I.. I thought about it and reevaluated what I deserve and I know that it’s a bit more than that.”

“It is. S’so much more.”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about the two of you.” You advert your eyes for a second. “When you love, Harry you give so much and... not that I can tell you how you feel, but I’ve... I don’t know.”

Harry blinks. “I don’t have any other reason as to why I could’ve said it. I don’t but what I do know is that I don’t feel the way I did before about her now,” he pauses. “I know with everything in me that I’m in love with one person, and she’s sat right in front of me.”

It dawns on you then (not that it hasn’t crossed your mind already) that this could indeed be nothing but a mishap with no hidden meaning. You aren’t an expert on how brains work, and this thought doesn’t submerge the ache and betrayal you felt, but ending such a potential relationship over a genuine mistake makes your stomach turn.

“Camile and I were together, yeah? I wrote some songs, we broke up, I wrote some more and yes, I was in love and then heartbroken but all of those feelings are so minuscule to how you make me feel. To how you’ve made me feel the last few months I’ve known you. You’ve got no idea how much I mean that. Baby, you have me. I don-”

You take his hand that was outstretched towards you- him being ever adamant on speaking with gestures - and rise to your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He wraps his around your back right away, pulling you closer into his chest.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your skin. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I love you.”

“I love you,” you finally say, eyes burning with tears. “I know I sound stupid; asking you for reassurance I-”

“No, hey, no. You deserve all of the reassurance in the world after that, darling. I can’t apologize enough.”

“It’s just gonna take me a little time, okay?”

“I know, love.. I’m sorry.”

Another one of Harry’s redeemable qualities was his integrity. You were aware of his morals and how authentic he was and despite the hurt and embarrassment you went through, you knew his heart.

There is no doubt that the two of you would be taking baby-steps for a spell; the important thing was that Harry was willing to wait as long you needed. And luckily for him, with the snow still brushing your window, there was an excuse for you to stay cuddled up with him for the remainder of the night.

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downwiththeficness · 3 years

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A Need So Great Chapter 11

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~7,100

Warnings: Smut

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

Someone was banging on her door. Eva groaned and rolled out of the bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and trudging through her apartment to answer it. Standing on the other side was a livid Connie, a storm in her expression.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Eva stumbled back, pushed by Connie into the living room. She winced against the sunlight, thankful that Connie closed the door behind her.

“Steve says you haven’t been at work all week and you’re not answering your phone.”

That was true. Eva had turned off the ringer on the phone when the incessant noise kept pulling her out of much needed rest during the periods when her heat wasn’t demanding she see to it.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been… indisposed.”

That was how her mother had put it, whenever she’d have to send Eva to a neighbor for a few days as her mother’s heat began. Indisposed. Like a fucking maiden in a story. A pretty word to gloss over the animal ferocity that was a heat. The truth of it was that heats were intense, frantic, primal things that served to bind together partners. The sex was a bi-product of an onslaught of bonding hormones that were assuaged by physical touch. There was nothing gentle in its nature.

Connie looked at her like she was insane, “That’s your explanation. Jesus, Eva, I thought something had—.”

She cut off, inhaling. Eva had been working to clear out the air in the apartment as discreetly as possible, but she knew the scent remained. Connie had gone very still, and very red.

“I—I’m sorr—,” she cleared her throat, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Eva shook her head, “I didn’t tell anyone.”

Connie’s brows drew together, “You didn’t tell anyone? Not even…” She left the sentence hanging, turning her hand over, her meaning quite clear.

“No,” Eva confirmed, “He had a mission he was doing, and I didn’t want to pull him away. Besides, its early to...do that...together.”

They’d been seeing each other maybe twelve weeks or so. And, if Eva’s hunch was correct, their innate compatibility would have resulted in a deeper intimacy than would normally happen at this stage in a relationship—at least, that’s how she understood adult relationships. Her perception had, no doubt, been skewed a little.

Scoffing, Connie folded her arms over her chest, “You should have told him. Steve said he got back this morning. Maybe give him a call or something, let him know what happened.”

Eva rolled her eyes, “What good is it going to do now? Its over. I won’t have another for a couple of months, maybe more.”

She didn’t even fucking know her own cycle, her hormones too screwed up from her experimentation with off-use suppressants. Eva could have another heat in a month, six months, or not for a year. She only hoped that she was a little more prepared for it the next time around. The knowledge that he was back rattled around in her head. Her body buzzed at the thought that she would get to see him very soon.

Connie’s expression turned soft, “You shouldn’t have to go through it alone, Eva.”

As an alpha, herself, Connie was well aware of what Eva had just gone through. Though Steve was a beta, he’d respond immediately to the hormonal fluctuations, ride it out with her. If she were unmarried, she may or may not be able to find a willing partner. As a woman, it could be dangerous to take on an unfamiliar partner during a heat. If she were a man entering rut, she could potentially go to any one of the many sex workers in the area and this would be generally acceptable, if unfortunate. A woman had no such option.

“I did okay,” Eva said, lying through her teeth. She absolutely had not done well, and she felt like shit.

Connie eyed her, “No, you didn’t. You look like you’ve been hit by a train.”

Eva laughed, couldn’t help it, “I’m good. I’ll be better in a few days.”

Mouth thin, Connie dropped her arms, “Listen, I think you need to talk with Horacio about this. But, do whatever you want.” She headed for the door, turning a bit, “You need anything?”

Eva shook her head, “I’m good.”

Connie sighed, pointed a finger at her, and said, “Hydrate. Lots of water.” Then, “I’m glad you’re alright.”

And then she was heading back out into the sunlight. Eva stared at the door for a little while, feeling weak. She sat on the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest, and eyed the phone. A phone call. She could make a phone call, hear his voice, feel the comfort of knowing he was safe. Then, she could go back to laying around in bed until he could stop by.

Chewing on her thumbnail, she stood and stepped over to the phone, picking it up from the cradle and dialing. It rang. It rang, and rang, and rang. She hung up. Glancing at the clock, she figured she’d give it an hour or so before she called again.

To distract herself, she showered. The water was gorgeously hot, sweeping away the tiredness that had settled into her muscles. She dried off and wrapped a towel around herself so that she could look for something to wear. Her brain helpfully supplied that Horacio might want to see her, so she should make a little bit of an effort. She pulled on a sundress, reaching behind her to pull up the zipper. She’d been careful with her underwear selection, choosing a soft lace hipster brief and a bra with semi sheer cups. Though they were both in a similar champagne tone, they weren’t a matching set. Eva didn’t actually own any matching sets. She didn’t have the energy to wonder what that said about her.

Barefoot, she padded back to the living room, running her fingers through her hair. She opened the fridge and looked at the contents, her stomach turning. She wouldn’t be able to eat anything more than bland foods for a while, her body still flushing out the hormones. Closing the fridge, she returned to the living and sat on the couch, sulking.

It was late afternoon, the sun starting to head down towards the horizon. He’d gotten back that morning, but she hadn’t heard from him. Eva chided herself. He was a busy man, in charge of an entire unit of police. He was probably tying up the loose ends of his mission. Doing paperwork. Normal job duties. Still, she couldn’t help that little bit of anxiety that bubbled up beneath her logical explanations.

“Its the hormones, Eva,” she said to herself. “Its just the hormones.”

She lasted the hour and allowed herself another phone call. No answer. Eva huffed, thinking. She was going to drive herself crazy if she kept doing this. Grabbing her purse, she dug through it for her keys. What she found was the lighter he’d given her in the bar. She’d dropped it into her purse for safe keeping all those weeks ago and it had fallen down into the depths of the bag.

Eva turned it over in her hands. It was a plain silver, heavily weighted, no inscription or decoration. She flipped open the top and spun the flint, the flame igniting easily. Closing the lighter, Eva slipped it into the pocket of her dress, patting it.

Keys in hand, she drove down to the restaurant that he’d taken her to when they’d had lunch. In stilted Spanish, she ordered a few of their recommended items, smiling wide when they handed her a bag stuffed full.

When she was back in her car, Eva sat at the wheel and wondered if what she was doing was appropriate. The boundaries of their relationship weren’t clearly defined. But, he’d always seemed happy to see her when she dropped by, always seemed to welcome her presence. This was no different. Eva nodded to no one in particular. She would drop in, deliver the food, let him know that she was glad he was back, and leave. Short. Sweet. Simple.

Decision made, Eva headed for the station. The walk up to his office was quiet, most of the officers having left for the evening. Her sandals whispered over the tile floor as she navigated around the bullpen of desks towards his office door. When she leaned in, he wasn’t there. Eva smothered the disappointment.

Sighing, she swung the bag from her arm to the opposite hand, moving to set it on his desk. Nimble fingers plucked a pen from where it lay atop a pile of folders.

“Sticky note...sticky note,” she murmured, looking for something to write on.

The scuff of a shoe behind her startled Eva from her search, she spun around, brows lifted in surprised.

“Hey,” she breathed.

Horacio stood in the doorway, hair wet and brushed back from his face, a bundle of clothes in his hands. His gaze was focused, intense, sweeping over her in such a way that she could tell he was noting every detail. She stilled, the smile on her mouth dropping a little as she waited, breath held.

“Hi,” he said finally. There was an odd note in his tone, a slowness to the one word sentence that usually wasn’t there.

Exhaling, Eva gestured to the bag of food on his desk, “I brought you something to eat. I figured you’d only been eating MREs for the last week and you might like some real food.”

His eyes flicked down to the bag and then back up again. Moving slowly, he set the bundle of clothing on a table near the door and stepped into the room. Back to her, he closed the door, hand lingering on the handle. When he turned back to her, he fixed her with that same focused look and Eva’s spine straightened underneath the weight of it.

Head canted down, he walked towards her. Every muscle in Eva’s body froze as she eyed him. He moved leisurely, a relaxed saunter, but there was darkness in his eyes that she had only very rarely glimpsed. Lips parted, her thoughts muddied in her head. She couldn’t move if she tried.

When he reached her, his arms wrapped around her middle, hauling her up against his chest in a fierce embrace. Reflexively, Eva cradled him to her, arms rising to his shoulders. Pushing his face into her neck, Horacio nosed along her skin until he reached her scent gland. His next inhale was deep, intentional.

Gasping, Eva’s head fell back, her body leaning into him. He held her weight easily, crowding her until they were pressed together from chest to knee.

“I missed you,” he murmured into her skin.

Eva’s eyes closed tightly, relief flooding out from her heart into her veins. She inhaled, trying to center herself. His scent was rolling over her, alternatively calming and exciting.

“I missed you, too.”

He pulled back a little, one hand tucking her hair behind her ear, looking at her as if he hadn’t seen her in months rather than a little over a week. Eva blushed, unable to hold his gaze. Her skin tingled where they touched, heart palpitating in her chest. She felt like she had the first time she’d scented him, a bundle of vibrating nerves that grabbed and pulled her into his orbit, holding her there.

“How did the mission go? Did you catch him?”

His shoulders deflated, and Eva knew she’d said the wrong thing.

“No, we didn’t. We did get a few key players, but that’s it.”

Eva traced her hands up above the collar of his uniform, thumbs finding their place at the nape of his neck. She kneaded the muscle there, please when his eyelids drooped.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, knowing how disappointed he must be about it.

He dropped his forehead to hers, “Not your fault.”

“I know, but I’m sorry all the same.”

Hands gripping her waist, thumbs rubbing over her belly, he closed his eyes. She continued to press her hands into his neck, fingers spanning out beneath the collar of his shirt to get at that tense shoulder muscles. He let out a soft groan when she hit a particularly tight spot.

“I want to kiss you,” he said softly. “Can I?”

Eva smiled, “Yes.”

Leaning down, he pressed just the tiniest kiss to her mouth, lifting up a fraction of an inch before diving back down to kiss her properly. She opened for him, hands pausing at his shoulders as she lost focus. He kissed her deeply, arms pulling her so tightly to his body that she had to rock up onto her toes to keep balance.

The first taste of him after so long without was a shock to Eva’s system, everything inside her lighting up into bright, incandescent fire. It was then that she knew coming here may have been a mistake. She thought the heat was over—she was sure of it. But, the lingering hormones in her body rushed to her brain, sending sizzling signals to her core. It was not a heat, but the echo of the one she’d just gone through, a ricochet that hit her right in the chest.

Breaking the kiss, he took a step back, pulling her with him, “I want to touch you.”

She followed him closely, until he was sitting on the couch at the far end of his office, pulling her into his lap. He looked at her, waiting for her answer.

“Yes.”

Legs on either side of his hips, Eva carded her fingers through his damp hair, kissing him fervently. True to his wishes, his hands moved over her, fingers curling over her skin, grabbing handfuls of her thighs and hips. He pushed his hands beneath the fabric of her sundress, rucking up the fabric. The cut of the dress caught on his wrists, restricting his movement, the pads of his fingers stopping short of her breasts. With a frustrated growl, he reached behind her and yanked on the zipper, pulling the dress down.

Without skipping a beat, he cupped her breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples through the sheer fabric. He kissed down her neck, pulling down the cup of her bra, mouth sucking at her skin until he drew her nipple between his teeth, biting down ever so slightly. Eva moaned, a high pitched thing that caught in her throat.

She’d been waiting all week for this, had been fantasizing about having him back with her while she worked to get off. The reality of feeling him hard beneath her, hips rolling upwards, was so much better than she could have imagined. His scent wafted around her, clean and fresh from the shower.

Releasing her nipple with an obscenely wet sound, Horacio placed an open mouthed kiss against her neck before shoving his nose against her and inhaling lewdly.

“Smell so good,” he ground out, fingers gripping tight.

Eva could only nod. She knew what he meant. After a week without him, she wanted to drown herself in his scent. Tobacco and vetiver. Her mouth salivated just breathing him in. Needing to taste as much as she needed to touch him, she leaned down and licked a hot stripe up his neck until she got to the scent gland behind his ear. It was feverish to the touch, a little swollen, and radiating the smell that had and would continue to haunt her fantasies for the rest of her life. Lips open, she encircled it, sucking hard.

The sound he made was as feral as it was pathetic, his hips snapped up, grinding into her forcefully. She whined, lifting to try to keep hold of him, tongue swirling. Fingers in her hair, he pulled her away, her scalp stinging. She groaned, mouth open.

He shushed her, “Have to be quiet, Eva. There’s still others here.” He kissed her, a sly smile on his mouth, “Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head wildly, hair falling over her bare shoulders. He looked up at her, eyes bright, skin flushed—looking for all the world like he was awed by her.

“I want to be inside you,” his tone was urgent, tongue coming out to wet his lips.

“Yes,” she answered him, her voice cracking.

Pulling her close, he kissed her, hands sliding up her thighs. She met him eagerly, hands fisting in his shirt. He nipped at her, hand moving to work at his belt, fingers pulling at the zipper and pushing his pants down just enough to free his erection. Fuck, but she missed looking at it. The toy she’d used as a substitute wasn’t nearly as thick as he was, and her body clenched at how she knew he would stretch her wide, fuck her open in the most delicious way.

Impatient, Eva rose up on her knees, using one hand to pull her panties to the side and the other to line him up and sink onto him. If she hadn’t been fucking herself through a heat over the last week, it might have taken the usual two or three thrusts to drop all the way down. Instead, she slid over him smoothly, her body welcoming him enthusiastically.

He gasped, surprise written all over his face before his jaw clenched and he grabbed her hips to hold her steady. Eva threw her head back, biting her lip to keep the wail that wanted to escape at bay.

“Fuck,” he breathed, looking down at where they were joined. Reaching up, he pulled her to him for a kiss, saying against her mouth, “I thought about you every day. Woke up hard for you. Couldn’t even get myself off because there was no fucking privacy.”

The image of him laying in a tent somewhere, aroused and unable to do anything about it was titillating. Then came the image of him stroking off to the thought of her, his fist flying over his cock. Eva felt like she couldn’t catch her breath, the need to come pushing its way to the forefront of her mind. She shifted her hips, trying to catch a rhythm that she knew would send them both into a frenzy. He met her, the muscles of his arms and chest bulging as he helped her thrust down on him.

“I want—,” Horacio’s lips pressed together, cutting off the sentence.

Eva cupped his jaw, forcing him to look at her, “What do you want?”

Everything inside her wanted to give him whatever it was that he wouldn’t let himself have. The man denied himself so much, controlled everything about his life to the minutest detail. If he needed, she would provide.

“I want,” he started again, pausing. He buried his head against her neck and she could feel him fighting to keep the words down.

Leaning back, she forced him to look at her. There was an openness to his expression that gave her pause, an almost pleading in the tone of the sounds coming from him. She ran her thumb over his cheekbone.

“Tell me what you want,” she whispered, kissing him softly, “Tell me.”

His eyes closed as he said, “I want to come inside you.”

Liquid fire coursed through her, a wild feeling that reverberated around until she shook with it. Eva felt her body respond in a primal reaction, her hips swiveling down on him as if to coax the orgasm from him immediately.

“Yes, alpha,” she moaned, the words out of her mouth before she could catch them.

Eyes flying open, he hauled her to him, holding her immobile. Eva squirmed, incensed that she couldn’t keep grasping at the tendrils of pleasure that she needed. His arms tightened further, until she was sure she would burst from the pressure.

“Say it again,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

“Yes, alpha,” she gasped, pulling at his shirt, trying and failing to gain any leverage, “Please, alpha.”

Snarling, his torso rotated and she fell heavily on the couch cushions. Horacio crawled over her, pushing his hands under her dress to yank off her panties, dropping them to the side. He braced a foot on the floor, dropping his hips and shoving into her again.

Mouth at her ear, he let out a string of filth, telling her how good she felt, how tight and hot she was. His hands held her still as his hips slapped against her, the wet sound of his cock pushing up into her loud in the quiet room. Eva held on as best she could, burying her face into his neck to quell the sounds that she couldn’t keep inside. He reached up and gripped the arm of the couch, using it to gain leverage.

His pace was hard and fast, and exactly what she needed. Eva felt her body bear down on him, tightening as she neared release.

“You gonna come on me,” he asked hoarsely, “Gonna soak my cock with your come, omega?”

The use of her designation caused her eyes to roll back, the sweet, lancing pain of her orgasm rocketing through her as she laid there, unable to do anything but bite down on his shoulder to stop herself from screaming.

“Sweet fucking omega,” he growled, pace picking up until she could feel him pulsing inside.

He held himself against her, hips grinding for several long moments, until his body relaxed. Breathing hard, he let his weight fall atop her briefly, nosing against her neck, licking at the sweat that had pooled there.

With effort, he pulled out, his eyes falling to her folds. There was that focused gaze again, his lips pulling between his teeth. She could feel their combined orgasms leaking out of her slowly and she had to resist the urge to close her legs at the thought of what he was seeing. Lifting onto one palm, Horacio ran two fingers up her slit, gathering the wetness and pushing it back inside. Still sensitive, Eva drew in a shaky breath, her hand grabbing at the forearm near her head.

He stirred his fingers inside her a few times before pulling them out, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean. Eva’s jaw dropped as she watched him, her core pulsing at the sight.

After tucking himself back into his pants and setting his clothing back into place, he carefully helped her to dress. He laid down a kiss on each patch of skin before he covered it again, a softness to his touch that had not been there a few minutes previous. Kneeling, he reached for where he’d dropped her panties, his free hand pushing open her thighs.

His gaze lingered over her, eyes dark. Then, with little warning, he dove down and gave her a long, hot lick. Groaning, he leaned into her, nose pressed against her curls, mouth sucking at her clit. Eva hissed, her body curling over him. He swirled his tongue over her, a helpless little moan catching at the back of his throat. His hands tightened on her thighs, her panties hanging from where they’d caught on his pinky.

Eva gripped his shoulders, giving a pouting little huff when he pulled away suddenly. Panting he squeezed his eyes shut and Eva watched as one hand fell to his lap, palming at the erection that was growing behind his fly. He looked up at her, a kind of desperate surprise in his eyes. Eva grasped the hand on her thigh, soothing.

He rose, her panties still gripped in his hand, and paced away towards his desk. Eva brought her knees together self-consciously, not sure what was happening.

“Did you mean it?”

His back was to her, he ran a hand over his hair, fingers tucking her panties into his pocket. She knew without asking what he was getting at. She’d called him ‘alpha’, had acknowledged him as such. For an omega to make that kind of declaration was serious. Serious, and dangerous. It was a thing that existed in the space between marking and bonding, a deeply intimate gesture. That left the question: Did she mean it? She’d never wanted to invoke it before, the recognition of an alpha had terrified her in the past. Now, the thought was seductive.

Eva took a breath, steeling herself against the urge to protect herself at all costs, “Yes.”

He visibly tensed, still looking at the far wall. Then, he circled his desk and opened the middle drawer, pulling out a key. Stepping determinedly, he returned to her side, sitting next to her on the couch. He put the key in her hand. His tone was firm when he spoke.

“This is the spare key to my house. I’ve got some things I need to wrap up here, but when I come home, I want to find you in my bed—naked.”

Eva stared at him, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. He curled a finger beneath her chin, kissing her lightly. Dropping that hand to her thigh, he traced up the inside of it lightly.

“This is mine tonight, do you understand?” He asked as he circled her opening.

She nodded, resisting the urge to slot her hand on his and push his thick digits inside. He kept circling, breath fanning over her cheeks, his free arm coming up around her waist to hold her to him.

“Can I…?” she started, her words cut off as he threaded two fingers into her folds, rubbing at the hidden legs of her clit on either side.

He hummed in question, eyes trained on where he was playing with her.

She swallowed dryly and tried again, “Can I get my overnight bag from the apartment?”

One side of his mouth lifted, “What would you do if I said no?”

Eva blinked, shifting on the cushion as he applied just a little more pressure, “I wouldn’t go get it.”

Looking up at her from beneath his lashes, clearly pleased, he kissed her temple. The hand between her legs pulled away, grasping her skirt and settling it down over her knees. It took everything in Eva to keep from begging for him to keep going, her core throbbing.

“Go get your bag,” he said as he stood, helping her to rise with him. Then, he walked her to the door of his office, pausing in the threshold. “I’ll be home soon.”

The walk to her car, the drive to her apartment, and then to his house was a blur, her mind foggy with arousal. Eva was standing at the door to his house before she knew it, the key in the lock. Swallowing, she turned it and stepped inside.

The house, like it always did, smelled like him. Eva took a deep breath, moving through the living room and down the hall to the bedroom where she dropped her bag. The bed was made, the closet door closed, the blinds drawn. One of his jackets was thrown over an armchair to the right of the bed, the clock on his nightstand read seven pm.

Dropping her overnight bag next to the dresser, Eva sat on the bed, leaning down to pull off her sandals. Absently, she felt the lighter still sitting heavily in her pocket. Pulling it out, she set it carefully on the nightstand.

She didn’t know how long she had, but she felt the need to make herself as presentable as possible. The frantic searching for the things she needed to pack in her apartment, the drive over, not to mention the exertion in his office...Eva could smell the sweat on her skin.

Rising, she peeled off the sundress and stepped into the bathroom. Showering quickly, she toweled off and returned to the bedroom. She should maybe eat something. Still naked, Eva went to the kitchen and looked through the cabinets until she found a box of crackers. She ate as many as she could stomach, which was, admittedly, not a lot. Washing it down with a glass of water, Eva stood at the sink and tried to figure out if she needed to do anything else. He hadn’t given her any other directives. Bed. Naked. That was it.

Filling the cup again, Eva leaned against the counter and looked at the living room through the archway. A few magazines and the TV remote sat on the table. She could maybe try to distract herself with a late night show—no, if he found her on the couch...Eva shivered. She wasn’t quite ready to test his limits, but the thought was intriguing enough that she filed it away to explore later.

Reaching over, she flicked off the lights, heading back to the bedroom. She’d settled on getting rest. There had been promise in his voice when he’d told her he would be home soon. Eva needed to have the energy to rise to the occasion.

Sleep came easily, ensconced as she was in his sheets, in his scent. Dreamless, she snuggled deeply into the comforter. As solid as her sleep was, Eva could be forgiven for taking a minute to come back to consciousness.

Horacio was sitting beside her on the bed, hand on the dip of her waist. He’d pulled the sheet and comforter off her, the bulk piled at the end of the bed.

“I should have you here more often,” he said.

Eva smiled, “You usually want to go back to my place.”

He hummed, leaning down to pick up a plastic bag from where it sat at his feet. He reached in and tossed a box onto the nightstand. Eva would have giggled if her insides hadn’t twisted in anticipation. He’d gone to the drug store on his way back from the station. If there was any confusion about his intentions with her, they were now clear as fucking day.

Dropping the bag to the side, he worked the buckle of his watch loose, setting it on the nightstand. She watching him notice the lighter, his hand covering it for half a second. Then, he moved to his belt, sliding it through the loops of his uniform and rolling it into a neat spiral. Next came his button up, thrown onto the armchair. His undershirt, too. He paused over his pants, debating. Then, his thumb flicked open the fly and he pushed them down. Eva noted that he must have removed his shoes and socks before he sat down. They were laying neatly by the door.

Leaving his boxer briefs on, he moved to the end of the bed, looking down its length at her. Eva rolled to her back, arms over her stomach as she waited. He looked at her a while, eyes narrow.

“Open your legs.”

She did.

“Wider.”

Leaning down, he grasped her ankle, thumb pressing into her Achilles heel. First one knee, then the other pressed into the mattress as he crawled up and over her, hands trailing alongside. The breadth of his chest pushed her thighs open further. Face against the soft swell of her belly, he breathed in.

The fingers on her hips curled, he looked up at her, displeased, “You showered.”

Eva bit her lip, nodding.

“Why?”

She shrugged, “I wanted to…” she searched for the words, “be presentable.”

A soft chuckle left his lips. Eva felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. She looked away, trying to think of what to say.

Moving up her body, he grasped her chin, trying to catch her gaze, “No, no, I’m not making fun of you. I just—don’t pout—I just think its cute that you think I’m going to find you anything but irresistible.”

Eva rolled her eyes, “I was a mess.”

His brows quirked and he hummed a little, “A mess that I made.”

She absolutely had no response to that, her mouth open in shock. He clocked it, smiled wide enough that she could see his dimples, and leaned down to kiss her. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, moaning. Eva grasped his sides as he kicked up the intensity, his hands in her hair.

“I need to tell you,” he gasped against her mouth, “While I can still think—fuck—while I’m still sane. You know what this is?”

Eva stared up at him, trying to make sense of his words, her mind already beginning to fog over with arousal. Pulling away, he grabbed her wrist and shoved it between them, laying her palm over his erection.

“Feel that?”

Eva groaned, eyes closing, as she tried to give him a firm pull. His grip tightened, his free hand cupping her cheek to get her attention.

“Feel, Eva.”

At the base of his cock there was a swelling, a little ring of flesh that was only about a quarter the size of what it would be fully engorged. Eva’s hand froze, her eyes flying to his face.

He looked down at her, all serious, “If you don’t want this, you need to tell me. I’ll get up and I’ll go, but you need to tell me right now.”

As if to illustrate his point, he rose up on his hands and knees, his body trembling above her. Eva looked him over, looked at the scars she’d traced in the lazy intervals between kisses, looked at the arms that had held her, supported her, looked at the dark eyes that were begging her to choose quickly.

With deliberate slowness, Eva tucked her hand into his briefs and palmed him, sliding down to the base and squeezing the barely formed knot. He hissed, back bowing, eyes squeezed tightly shut. When he opened them again, they were as focused as they had been in his office.

Quick, sure movements hand her wrists in his hands, sinking into the mattress on either side of her head. He mouthed along her collarbone, dropping his hips into the cradle of her thighs, knees pushing outwards to spread her wide.

The ascent upwards was fast, frenzied, his hips twisting against her. The friction felt amazing on her already sensitized skin. He rocked against her, tasting her skin. Pinned down as she was, Eva could only hike her legs up high on his waist, using the little bit of leverage to grind against him.

“Inside,” she rasped, trying to arch deeper into every thrust.

Horacio shook his head, breathing hard, “This one is for you. I don’t know that...I won’t be able to make sure you’re, shit, taken care of after I…”

Eva took his meaning. He was nearly in rut, a frenetic sexual energy coursing through him that would not be stopped once it started. An alpha male in rut wouldn’t knot fully, but the partial swelling was enough to drive them to fuck until it had emptied—with a partner or without.

Feeling her body respond to that knowledge, Eva threw her head back, her thighs burning. She’d soaked through the front of his briefs, could feel even more slick dripping out of her as she climbed higher towards orgasm. A choked gasp caught in her throat, her body clenching down on nothing, spasming beneath the heavy weight of him.

“So good for me,” he praised, kissing her cheek chastely.

Eva sighed, muscles limp as he lifted off her and reached over to open the box of condoms, pulling apart the foil packet and rolling it on. After kicking off his underwear, he settled back between her thighs, lifting one leg up and over his hip. He pushed inside slowly, grunting as she pulsed around him. As he bottomed out, his eyes rolled back, the little swell of his knot settling against her folds.

There was a pause, a breath that held stagnant between them for only a second or so, and then he was pumping into her at an ever increasing pace. Eva teeth clacked together when he gave a particularly hard thrust, knocking against her cervix, grinding down.

All at once she was reminded of that first conversation they’d had following their first night together—how he’d worried about having hurt her. She had a feeling this was why. Eva had known he was strong, could feel it every time they touched. She’d seen him fight, knock a guy unconscious. She’d felt him lift her with seemingly no effort. All of that could not prepare her for the unbridled force with which he was currently fucking up into her.

His skin slapped against her, cock thrusting against her walls, hitting her g spot regularly enough that she felt another orgasm begin to rise. He wrapped both arms around her, holding her to his chest, face in her neck. It cost him in leverage, his knees digging into the mattress for purchase. But, he didn’t seem keen to let her go.

Eva hugged him to her, one hand in his hair, the other tracing down the length of his spine. She could not quell the whimpers falling from her lips, could not stop her ankles from locking together at the small of his back, urging him on. She definitely could not stop her cunt from fluttering around him.

He groaned into her neck, hips stuttering. Cursing, his body slowed, lungs drawing deep breaths. Eva sighed as he rolled off her, her hands falling on either side of her body. She turned to her side, stretching her legs out, toes pointed.

Horacio returned to her, having dealt with the condom. He touched her shoulder, sliding up behind and slotting his leg between hers.

“You good?” He asked, voice rough.

Eva nodded, laying her hand over the arm around her waist. He continued to trace along her skin for a while, mouth leaving syncopated kisses all over. Soon enough, she felt him begin to harden against her ass and she tilted her hips back in invitation.

“Rest for a moment,” he said, his hand tracing up to her breast, kneading gently. He continued to dot kisses over her neck and shoulder, licking here and there.

He petted her for a long while, occasionally reaching down to slide his fingers over her pussy, rubbing light circles over her clit. All the while, sweat began for form over his arm and along his chest where they were pressed together. It wasn’t long before he was reaching for another condom and rolling Eva to her back, pushing into her.

The sound she made was not feminine or pretty. It exploded from her throat, a needy, guttural thing. As before, his pace was quick and hard. Eva gripped the pillow beneath her head, jaw unhinged as she tried to keep up. Too soon, her tired body was giving up, her legs falling wide as she simply took what he was giving her.

Horacio grasped her behind the neck, pulling her to him for a sloppy kiss. Eva could barely breathe around the way he kept upping the intensity of how he fucked her, changing the angle, pushing inside and grinding on her, using one hand to arch her back up to him so that he could bite at her breasts. She keened, a frission running through her.

He came with a shout, his body shaking all around her, forehead dropping to her chest. She barely felt him pull out, still reeling from the electric static running rampant over her skin. Hands ran over her, lulling her as she dropped into a strange kind of sleepy place, somewhere between waking and dreaming.

When she came back to awareness, he was rolling his tongue over her pussy, one long finger dipping inside. He massaged her thighs, hanging over his shoulders. Eva moaned lowly, his name sounding as she shifted against the sheets. He sucked at her lips, thumb rubbing at her clit. From between her thighs, he watched her come apart, her head thrown back, legs shaking.

Making a sound of satisfaction, he lifted up, already reaching for another condom. With confident hands, he rolled her to her stomach, laying down atop her, pushing his cock into her in a smooth, firm stroke. The sound he made against her shoulder was obscene, a desperate, needy thing that dropped down into his chest.

He gave her a few slow, controlled thrusts before his body took over. The way he straddled her thighs, pushing them together around him, the weight of his body keeping her immobile—it built around her, feeding into something deeply held, something she didn’t know existed in her. She liked that she couldn’t move. She liked that he could, in that moment, do whatever the fuck he wanted with her.

Whining against the pillow, Eva felt herself say things she had never let herself say before. Things like: Yes, hold me down and More, alpha, give me more. Fuck me harder, please. Her words seemed to spark even more of a fire in him. He lifted back to sit on his heels, pulling her with him until she was sitting astride his thighs with her back to his chest, speared on his cock.

At this angle, he could grind the promise of his knot against her. One arm crossed over her chest to hold her steady, the other reaching down between her legs, he strained against her. Eva grasped futilely at his hips, his thighs, not exactly sure what she was trying to do but she needed to touch him. She needed more of him, more connection.

Mine, mine, mine, he was saying, and it took too long for Eva to recognize that he’d dropped into Spanish. Words falling out of him like water. He called her his little omega, called her beautiful, called her his.

Pushing her hair over her shoulder, he kissed underneath her jaw, licking up to her scent gland and swirling his tongue over it. Eva gasped, her nails digging into his thigh, urging him on. Grunting, his fervent kiss turned into a deep bite and she could feel the moment he broke the skin.

She screamed in pleasure, the orgasm powerful enough that her whole body shook with it. She must have passed out, because the next thing she knew, he was calling her name, shouting at her.

“’m okay,” she groaned, touching his jaw tenderly.

Eyes wild with worry, he stared at her face. She smiled at him, giving his cheek a pat before settling down into the softness of the mattress. He made her drink the cup of water she’d brought in with her before laying down beside her and watching her carefully. His eyes drooped as he stroked her thigh. Eva leaned over and kissed him, feeling blissfully worn out.

“Thank you,” she murmured before succumbing to sleep, though those weren’t the words that echoed silently alongside it.

#narcos #horacio carrillo #carrillo #A Need So Great

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