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hyunsuks-beanie · 3 years

Text

Running Away With You

*Image Credits to rightful owners*

Bang Chan x reader; non idol AU; established relationship; fluff; midly suggestive at places

Word Count: 4.25k

A/N: A huge thank you to @youn9racha, for this super cute request. I am as much a sucker for road trips as I am for Chan, so I really enjoyed writing this!! I hope you like it as much as I did.

"Do you ever just want to pack your bags and run away in the night, without telling anyone?," you ask your boyfriend, Chan, as you both lay in bed one night. "That's an interesting question," he says, playing with your hair, "Though first I'd like to know what made you think of that." "Pfft. It's nothing too complex, Christopher. It's just a random thought that popped into my head," you say, while rolling your eyes at his inquisitive nature.

"Y/N, I know you, and I can sense that you've got something bothering that pretty head of yours, and making you want to run away. So tell me, what is it?," Chan speaks in a soothing tone, making you snuggle into his chest even more, while letting out a sigh. "It's just, work has been so crazy these past few days, and the pressures of the real world are getting to me. You remember when we were back in college? Whenever things got too hard, we used to go on road trips to clear our heads. Even a couple days away from the harsh real life were enough to rejuvenate us. I guess I just miss those times, now that real life responsibilities are wearing us down."

Once you're done with your little rant, Chan pulls your head up a little, making you look at him. He softly says, "Aww baby, I'm so sorry I didn't realize you've been struggling these past few days. I guess I've been too busy with my own work tonoticee. I know we're no longer in college, but I promise to you, that whenever the going gets tough, I'll do everything in my ability to help your through." "I know Channie, I know. I have you, and it's more than enough."

You give in to sleep after a while, and so, you fail to notice that Chan takes a little longer to fall asleep that night. He keeps thinking back on what you said earlier, carrying out an internal debate with himself. "Y/N is right. Work and responsibilities have taken a toll on us, and a road trip may be just what we need. But can we really afford to just 'run away?' There are too many projects, too many commitments. And we owe it to our colleagues to tell them that we will be away for a few days," he thinks to himself, before slowly drifting off to dreamland.

The next morning brings with itself a fresh hustle, but your face doesn't betray any sign of the frustrations you let come to the surface last night. But Chan knows better, and, seeing his reflection while getting ready for work, he realizes that his own expression mirrors yours. A thin veil to hide the fact that it's getting too much. At his office that day, he can't seem to focus on his work, since his mind keeps drifting back to your words. By the time the evening rolls around, he has made up his mind. He's going to run away with you, for a week anyway.

But a road trip needs some planning, and Chan wants this vacation to be the perfect little surprise for you. So, on his way home, he stops by at the convenience store to buy some essentials. Instant noodles, a few bottles of beer, disposable utensils, rental DVDs, he collects quite a few things, being reminded of your college days with each item he adds to his cart. In a moment of impulse, he even purchases a tent fit for two, and once he's done shopping, he hides everything in the boot of his car. You don't need to know of his plan, yet.

The following day, he leaves his office early, calling in a week's leave of absence due to some made-up reason. Instead of going home, he first drops by at your office. Not to meet you, but to get a similar application for leave approved on your behalf.

He finally heads back home to pack and ready a couple of things for your trip. "Y/N wanted to run away in the middle of the night, and that is what we'll do," he smiles to himself. When you come home, he remains tight-lipped about his little surprise for you, even though his excitement is trying to get the best of him.

Once the clock strikes twelve, he brings you out to his car, without telling you the reason. "Just please, come on! Don't you trust me?," he says, pouting. On his way out of the house, he picks up your phone from the couch, along the house keys. You don't notice this, however, as you're busy pestering him with questions. "Chan, why are we going out so late at night? What's going on? Tell me!" "You wanted to run away, right? Well, how about running away...... to the convenience store?," he smiles cheekily, making you giggle. "Gosh you're such a cheesy idiot," you say, getting into the car, still blissfully unaware of his intentions.

"Yeah, but I'm your cheesy idiot," he laughs, pressing his foot on the accelerator.

It doesn't take you long to realize that instead of driving over to the 24/7 close to your house, Chan has pulled onto the highway. You turn to look at him, only to see him smiling brightly, his eyes trained ahead. "Chan, what are you doing?," you ask, though feel like you already know the answer. "Running away with you," he says, taking your hand in his his, and bringing it up to his lips.

"What? But that was just a random rant! And what about work? We can't just disappear like that," you exclaim, to which, he only replies by giving you a knowing look. "Let me guess, you already informed our offices?" "Yes, and no," he quips. When you look at him quizzically, he elaborates, "I submitted applications for leave, making up some random excuse. So we have a whole week to ourselves." "But, what about essentials and supplies? We don't have anything to eat," you try to reason. He counters, "Babe, I've been planning this for two days, and I already stocked up on all our favourite snacks, drinks, and movies. I even got us a tent for days we want to sleep out in the open. I've got it all set, so don't you worry. The only thing I need you to do is to promise me that for the next seven days, you won't check your phone. I've already downloaded tons of songs and created at least 20 different playlists. You won't be getting any work-related messages, since I've taken care of that as well, and for directions, we'll take the traditional way, and ask around."

"Directions? Where exactly are we going anyway?," is your next question. To your surprise, he simply shrugs, before telling you that he doesn't have any specific place in mind. "Let's just wander away, going wherever the road takes us," he says, rather poetically, to which, you can't help but laugh. You then let out a soft sigh, making him look at you. "Sounds like a plan to me. Chan and Y/N, running away together, with no destination in mind," you smile, before reaching over and kissing his cheek.

"Let's play some music, shall we?," you ask, before hitting shuffle on the first playlist that pops up on your phone. You both settle in a comfortable silence, and soon enough, you begin to get drowsy. Chan notices this, and tells you to rest your eyes for a bit. "Promise to wake me up in like, two hours, so that I can take over the wheel," you yawn. "Okay fine bub, now sleep." Chan continues driving, occasionally stealing glances at your sleeping form. "How did I get so lucky?," he wonders, just like he does every day.

Morning finds you to be the one behind the wheel, as Chan naps contently in the passenger seat. The brightness of the sun finally wakes him up, and he realizes that you've left the highway, and are now driving through what appears to be the countryside. "I wonder where we're headed," he says while yawning. "Well, a signboard I saw earlier told me that we are somewhere in Jeonju," you reply. Instead of words, Chan's reply comes as a grumbling from his stomach. "Hungry," you quip, making him nod his head vigorously. You hit the breaks, before preparing some instant ramen for breakfast.

You eventually continue on your trip, and after a few hours, you find yourself in the midst of traditional Korean buildings, which seem to be from the Joseon dynasty. "Is this perhaps a tourist location?," wonders Chan loudly, making you reply, "Only one way to find out." You both get out of the car and do some asking around. You find out that the place where you houses the residences of the noblemen of old, and has now been converted into a shooting-cum-tourist spot. "Tourists can get traditional hanboks from that store, to complete the experience," an old woman tells you.

You turn to look at Chan, your eyes shining. Twenty minutes later, you exit the store, dresses from head to toe in a light blue hanbok. Chan's eyes nearly pop out when he sees you, and when he tells you the same, you can't help but blush.

You continue to hang around the place little while longer, and have dinner at a small eatery nearby.

"I feel like I'm 20 again. Thank you Channie," you say, holding his hand across the table. "Anything for you love," he winks.

Evening eventually comes around, and you guys hit the road once again. Around dinner time, you notice that you are crossing by a wood and supplies shop, and an idea strikes your mind. "Let's buy some wood and grill our meat!," you say excitedly, making Chan coo at how adorable you are. "Great idea babe. Let me park."

You quickly exit the car and visit the shop to buy some wood, then get started on your mini bonfire. It proves to be more difficult than you had thought, given how inexperienced the both of you are. In the end, you manage to get the fire going enough for the meat to be grilled, and turn around to ask Chan to bring in the eatables, when you see his face. It's completely covered in soot from his failed attempts at lighting the flame, making you double over in laughter. "You look so funny," you say while gasping for air. "Wouldn't be so funny if I got this soot on your face now, will it?," he retorts, coming after you. You try to run, but it's obviously in vain, as Chan grabs hold of you in under a minute. You both laugh harder than you have in months, and when you finally calm down, you give your boyfriend a tight hug. He hugs you back, and whispers, "I love you." "I love you too, Channie," you say, "Now go and get the meat, I'm hungry." "Way to ruin the moment, Y/N," he grumbles as you push him away.

After dinner, you walk up to the shop owner to thank him, and ask his permission to camp nearby. "It rained a few days ago, so the ground is still wet, and will be uncomfortable. But you can rent a room here for the night if you'd like," he offers. "That'll be great sir, thank you for the help." Chan says, coming up behind you. The shop owner gives you the keys to a room, and before leaving, says something that leaves you both red at the ears. "No funny business here, please. I know you both are young, and controlling yourself is hard. But I'd rather you didn't 'play around' unnecessarily on my bed."

You get changed and climb into the bed, snuggling up to each other. "First day down, babe," you smile with your eyes closed. When Chan doesn't reply, you open them, only to find your man staring at you with love in his eyes. "This is pure healing for me, thank you for suggesting this trip, love," he says. You talk about anything and everything for a while, and then suddenly, you feel Chan's soft lips pressing against yours. He gives you a sweet kiss, and pulling away, says, "About what the old man said earlier.....," while smirking. You shove his chest, saying, "We shouldn't," making him pout. "Although, making out doesn't count as 'funny business,' does it?" And that's enough to make him press his lips back to yours, moving so as to hover over you.

You wrap your arms around his back, pulling you closer to him. He licks your lower lip, making you part your lips and allowing his tongue to enter. After a while, you break away, only to grab his T-shirt and take it off his body, before wrapping your hands around his bare back. Needless to say, the two of you didn't get much time to sleep that night.

You get started on your way again the next day, and around mid-day, you see a milestone telling you that you are entering Iksan. The small town seems a lifetime away from your hectic lives in Seoul, and you spend the day going from shop to shop, buying small trinkets and stuff that are reminiscent of the country life. The residents welcome you with open arms, and more than once, you find an old couple telling you how cute you look together.

"He's a keeper, that one. Don't let him go," a lady says to you, pointing at Chan, who can be seen playing with some kids. "I won't," you smile.

That night, you stay over at a family's house, who were nice enough to allow you to sleep on their futon. You have dinner with them, during which the kid's ask Chan, "Are you two married?," making him choke on his food. "I'm sorry for that, they are learning about families and marriage in school these days," says their mother. "It's all right," you smile, "But no, we aren't married." "But do you plan on getting married soon?," the kids persist.

You and Chan look at each other and smile, before saying in unison, "Yes. One day."

The next morning you take the wheel from Chan, and the both of you drive of in silence, as High School Musical plays on your dashboard screen. After a while, you say, "What is it, Channie? You've been staring at me," "It's just that, you seem way too quiet. You've been like that since last night, after dinner," he replies, "What's the matter? Are you okay?" "I'm fine, just been thinking." "About?" "About us," you begin, elaborating when you see him looking at you expectantly. "When those kids asked us if we were married, it got me thinking.....I love being with you, I love waking up next to you. We live together any way, and share all the burdens that come with it too. So I guess...getting married to you wouldn't be so bad after all," you say softly.

"Is this your way of proposing to me?," giggles your boyfriend. "What? No! I mean, I did say it would be nice to get married, but I don't have a ring right now. And I meant it when I said 'one day,' but it's not today," you hurriedly say. Chan bursts out laughing at this, "I know love, I'm not ready yet either. But yes, if I have to get married, I'd rather marry you than anyone else."

Around noon, you decide to set up camp in a forest clearing. It takes you a few hours to get the tent up and ready, as you keep getting delayed because you can't stop fooling around. Amid Chan getting himself wrapped with the tent instead of unwrapping it, and you assembling the rods the wrong way up, you spend some not-so-productive, but enjoyable quality time in each other's presence, something you didn't know you had been craving for.

Evening rolls by, and you have a light dinner with ramen, some roasted chicken, and beer, following which, you lay down on a picnic mat, with your head on Chan's arm. "The stars look so beautiful, don't they Channie?," you softly ask. "Not as beautiful as you," he says cheesily, making you hide your face into his side. "But yeah, you're right. I really wanted to go stargazing with you, but we never got the time," he sighs. "I'm so happy we came on this trip, love." You open your mouth to speak, but just then, you notice a star shooting across the sky. "Channie! Channie get up, it's a shooting star!," you squeal, before closing your eyes and praying. Once you open them, you notice Chan looking at you with a gaze full of love. "Didn't you wish for something?," you ask. "I did," he smiles. "But what about you? What did you wish for?"

"Come closer Mr. Bang, I'm not about to announce my wish to the whole world," you whisper slyly. He leans in closer to you, only to have you say, "You don't tell others what you wished for," before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He smiles into the kiss, before breaking away and hugging you tight.

The next day turns out to be the last before you have to turn back homeward, and so, Chan suggests you make the best of it. "From what I know about the country's geography, we should be close to a beach somewhere here," he says, making you look at him with your eyes shining. "Too bad we're not going to get help from the GPS, but I'm really enjoying the phone detox," you smirk. "Who needs GPS when we've got people? Look there, we're gonna enter a city soon, so let's ask our way around," he replies. An hour and a half later, you come across a milestone that tells you the beach is a mile away. Once there, you look for a deserted spread of sand, keen on not getting stuck in an unnecessary crowd. "We face enough of that in the city, I just want to be alone with you," you whisper, taking his hand in his.

When you finally succeed in finding such a place, Chan giggles, "Good thing I packed our swimming gear as well, right?" "You did well sweetie," you say, booping his nose softly. After getting changed, you spend the next few hours playing in the water. Suddenly, Chan pulls you flush into his chest, and whispers in your ear, "You look so hot wearing that, and with water dripping down your body, I'm really finding it hard to stay away." "Then don't," you say, biting your lip. One thing leads to another, and you're thankful for the changing shack nearby.

By the time the sun starts to set, Chan has pulled you out of the water, and is making you dance with him on the sand, after bringing your phones and portable speaker from the car. Waltzing to the music, you shyly say, "I love you Channie," making him blush and reply with an "I love you too, my cute baby."

After dinner you climb atop the roof of your car, talking about your younger days. "You remember when we got into a huge fight once, back in college? And I was about to break up with you, only to have you whisk me away on a road trip, just like you did this time," you say, laying your head on his shoulder. "It did get you to stick around with me though," he replies, laying his chin on your head. "And you remember how we first met? You spilled your latte all over my T-shirt, and then took me to the infirmary to check for any burns," he reminds you, making you throw your head back in laughter. "You kept whining for a year over how you missed out on being the 'campus heartthrob' because of that incident, when in reality, you still were the most popular freshman," you jab a finger at his chest, smiling.

"Okay, I've got a secret. I wasn't actually sad about the campus heartthrob thing, since I already knew everyone was head over heels for me," he grins, making you punch his arm. "Hey! Let me finish first. I knew everyone loved me, but I only had eyes for you. And whining was just a tactic to get you to feel sorry for me and go on a date with me." You fake gasp at this, exclaiming, "Treachery! And here I thought you were genuinely sulky about that. do you have any idea how guilty I felt that whole year?!" When he simply states at you, unamused, you add through a pout, "I'm planning on revoking your cuddle privileges."

All of a sudden, you realize that Chan is moving over to lay on top of you, trapping you between him and the roof. "You know you can't resist me, babe. So don't even try," he says. "You are right about that," you say, pulling him for a kiss.

You both end up remaining awake till dawn the next day, and decide to start on your journey home around mid-way, after having napped inside the car for a few hours. You get started on your way just after noon, with Chan behind the wheel, and you eating (and feeding him) from a packet of gummy bears in the passenger seat. You re-enter the city you had seen earlier the previous day, and decide to spend some time roaming around. It's a fairly big city, but still much quieter and more peaceful than Seoul. You pass on visiting the mall, reasoning that you do so too frequently back home.

Soon enough though, you come across a store that displays a signboard saying, "Free wine tasting session for couples." You both look at each other, and with a smirk, Chan says what is on your mind. "Can't pass up on sophisticated wine for free now, can we?" You giggle and say, "Nope, absolutely not." And so, in you go. The session proves to be equal parts fun and educational. From the Chardonnay to the Pinot Noir, you go through with the tasting of at least 20 different types of wines. While you actually stick to the literal meaning of the word "tasting," drinking no more than a sip per drink, Chan goes all out, and not too long after, he's totally drunk. "Hey there beautiful, mind telling me your name?," he tries to act smooth with you, making you facepalm as you say, "I still get surprised about how low your alcohol tolerance is for your size," you shake your head.

Once you leave the tasting, half dragging, half carrying a wasted Chan who continuously tries to flirt with you, you decide to take the wheel and hit the road to the outskirts of the city, and cover the remainder of the trip once you're fully sober. When you cross over the city's borders and re-enter the road in the wilderness, you hit the brakes. You let Chan sleep, knowing that waking him up will only give him a hangover. Getting out of the car, you get yourself something to eat from the boot, and once you're full, you snuggle up to him, throwing a blanket over the both of you.

You wake up around nine at night, and as you had predicted, you see Chan holding his head in agony. You nurse him for while, before putting him back to sleep, then continue down the road. You keep sneaking glances at his sleeping form, smiling to yourself when you notice how peaceful he seems, something he hasn't looked like in ages. "We really needed this. Thank you for always knowing what I need, and for always taking care of me. I love you," you thank him silently.

When he finally wakes the next morning, he sees you huddled up in the driver's seat, and he can feel his heart swell with love for you. He gets out of the car, then picks you up and softly places you on the backseat so that you can rest well. Looking at your expression, he can easily see how content and truly happy you are. You are his reason to keep going, and if this little getaway idea of his could help you find your reason to keep going (unbeknownst to him, he himself is your reason to endure too), his heart is at ease. Sure, your week off is going to end soon, but he's positive that you will have rejuvenated yourself and would have gathered enough beautiful memories to last you a while.

Sure, going back to Seoul would mean going back to the hustle and bustle of your lives, but hey, he knows that that you by his side, he'd be ready to run away from home again any day, because his home is with you. But even more than that, he knows that with you by his side, life will be just a tad bit easier. Because you will always be there to remind him of who he was back in college. You will keep the young, carefree boy who loved you to bits, alive in him. And he'll do the same for you. And with that thought, he drives off into the distance, back to where you started from, with a smile on his face.

Because at the end of the day, you both have each other, and that's all that matters.

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twinklelilstarkey · 3 years

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Can I Maybe request a fight with mtkachuk but ends happy???

A/N: Of course. Hope you like it!

You and Matt had a fight. It honestly didn’t come as a surprise. The both of you were in a bad mood the whole day and all you wanted to do was stay home and be alone. And, well, that didn't happen. All because of your plans.

You had planned, weeks prior, with your friends to go have a big evening and dinner out together. The plan was purely for the enjoyment of everyone. It didn’t require a lot of moving or walking around or even driving, so, no complaining about that. It was just a big hang out in someone’s backyard, a late lunch while you talk about life, and, eventually, late at night, a drive to a restaurant to end the day and have the last group meal.

Again, it was supposed to be something light-hearted, but it didn’t take long for Matthew to get under your skin.

Even though the bad mood was from the both of you, he didn’t even care enough to fake a smile when to greet people. Oh, and you were pissed.

You sat beside him during the whole afternoon while he scrolled through his phone and ignored most conversation starters. You tried to overcompensate and be double as social as you normally are because of it.

By the time you got to dinner, it was safe to say: you were exhausted.

And Matthew? His phone had just died so he had nothing to do but actually talk to people. Your friends were nice enough to welcome the moody man into their group conversations but no matter how many pokes you gave his side or pinches on his arm, he just didn’t seem to understand what you wanted. Which was, of course, to be slightly nicer with everyone.

The drive home was complete hell. The first few minutes were just silent, yet as soon as you get to the first red light, a simple unnecessary comment from him and you just snapped.

You two screamed at one another the whole drive, and scream after scream, it surely just ended with you just hurting one another more and more with each sentence.

You remember flashes of the last minutes before getting inside the apartment. You remember slamming the door of his car, sobbing your way through the lobby of the building, and closing yourself in your shared bedroom to cry in peace.

Matthew stayed in the car for a while longer, he ignored the shivers that ran through him when you slammed the door and he heard you sob over the loud thump. He then just stared at the grey wall in front of him in the parking lot.

Minutes passed and you still hadn’t heard the front door reopen, yet you didn’t go to check on Matt. You continued laying over the sheets of your bed, with your wet cheeks and tight chest, as you stared and sobbed at the doors of your wardrobe.

Matt had actually gotten in the apartment already, but he was so silent with the door that he believes not even a ghost heard him walk in.

He took off his shoes and winter jacket, hanging it by the door. He then dragged his feet from the wooden floors of his home and made his way to the bedroom door.

His hand laid over the door handle and he stopped his movements when he heard another soft sob from the other side of the door. He lifted his hand and took a step back, staring at the dark door in silence.

He made you cry and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

Matthew closed his hand into a fist and let it fall to his side. He couldn’t just walk in there and act like what happened just didn’t. Right?

He brought his hand over his curls and brushed them back in frustration. His eyes drifted to the ground as he thought of a solution but nothing came to mind.

And with that, he decided to walk back to the other side of the house, to the living room, where he slept.

This morning, the first thing you did when you woke up was to quickly lay your hand over the opposite side of the bed. Cold. Your eyes opened slowly over the bright sunlight and you let out a groan.

You had a headache that was completely out of this world, almost as if you were with a hungover. But guess that’s what crying until you fall asleep gets you.

You forced yourself out of bed and quickly changed into some comfortable clothes - some shorts and one of Matt’s old shirts.

Now, when you're washing your face, as you look at yourself in the mirror, you tense up.

You didn’t hear Matthew come home, yesterday.

You, in light speed, turn off the water and dry your face with the towel. You walk out of the bathroom and bedroom and start making your way down the hallway.

The house is silent. Too silent.

As you reach the front door, you eye the hanger by it. His jacket is there, and so are his shoes, right under it. His keys are in the little platter on top of the table right at the entrance.

He’s home.

A sudden feeling of relief washes over you and you decide to make your way to the living room. And that’s where you find him. Sleeping on his side over the large couch.

You take silent steps over to him and notice the soft scowl over his features. You also notice that he didn’t change clothes, he’s still in his jeans and hoodie. Probably not very comfortable.

No matter how mad and sad you were yesterday, you didn’t want him to sleep on the couch, or even not go into the bedroom to get clothes. This room is the coldest of the apartment and the couch is only good for short naps. You can’t even imagine how much his back will hurt when he wakes up.

You walk closer to him and decide to not fight off your wishes. You crouch next to the couch and eye Matt’s sleeping form. You raise your hand and brush his curls back, away from his forehead.

He shifts slightly at your sudden touch, yet you don’t pull away. Your fingers play with the shorter hair on the sides of his head and your fingers then move to caress his temple.

No matter how much he hurt you yesterday, you still love him. You guys have known each other for years, it’s not your first fight, so, it’s not as painful as one would imagine it. At least not on the next day.

Your gaze shifts over to his phone on the side table next to the couch. You reach for it, and, yeah, still no battery. Without taking a second to think, you stand up back on your feet and go over to the charger by the TV.

While you’re connecting it to the charger, a voice breaks the silence in the room.

“What time is it?”

You quickly stand back on your feet and turn to Matthew, who is still laying down but is squinting at the light in the room.

“It’s early.” You tell me, “Probably around 9.”

He nods to let you know that he heard you and you finally force yourself to walk over to him again. Matthew opens his eyes when you stand in front of the light that was attacking him and he stares up at you in silence for just a few seconds before lifting his hand up at you. You take it hesitatingly and he pulls you closer to him. To lay with him.

Matthew turns on his side to open some space for you between him and the couch and you finally do as told. You, carefully and slowly, step over his legs on top of the couch and take a seat before finally laying.

Your faces are close to one another. Your back is glued to the couch and your chest to practically touching Matt’s, yet you don’t hesitate to look up at him.

“When did you come home?” You ask, still with your hand in his.

“Right after you did.” He tells you and you frown a bit, “I was just quiet.”

You nod understandably and feel him start to move his hand on yours. For a second you expect him to pull his hand away, but he does the opposite, he intertwines your fingers with his before letting your hands fall between you two.

“I’m sorry for yesterday.” He breaks the silence. “I was an ass and you didn’t deserve that.”

You give him a small smile and a little shake with your head as if to dismiss whatever had happened yesterday.

“I should’ve apologized right away, but I didn’t. I’m so sorry.” He says it again.

“I forgive you, Matty. Don’t worry about it.” You tell him with a soft tone.

“I have to worry.” He tells you, “You were crying, Y/N. I said so much stupid shit. To you and your friends.”

You let go of his hand and lay yours over his cheek.

“You’re forgiven.” You tell him while looking into his worried eyes, “Just- just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” He tells you, “I promise. I’m never going to be that much of an ass ever again.”

You smile at him and look down at his lips.

You can tell just by the look he’s giving you that he’s still beating himself for it, probably feeling like his apology wasn’t good enough. He has reacted like that before, in smaller arguments, and did end up apologizing to you for more than a week straight - even though you forgave him on the second day.

Sure, his apology is not the long romantic one that leaves a girl swooning at how good he is with words or makes a heart melt, but it’s good enough for you. For all the years you’ve known him, you can tell when he’s apologizing because he needs to and when he wants to. It’s all in his tone and his expression.

He means what he says, even though it’s not much. And just in case you still have a little voice in the back of your mind telling you that you forgave him too quickly, don’t you worry, because he is not done. Expect a minimum of 20 more “I’m sorry’s” just for the rest of the hour.

“Another thing.” You start and he nods quickly, “Please don’t ever sleep on this couch again. Just go sleep on the bed.”

“I didn’t want to make you more upse-”

“You wouldn’t.” You tell him, “Believe me.”

He nods understandingly and you finally land a kiss over his lips. It’s a simple peck, but it’s one that Matthew was dying to get. It relieves some of the pressure in his overthinking mind, and he felt right away. Even if it’s just temporary, it gives him some sort of comfort.

When you pull away and give him a soft grin, his eyes stare back at you lovingly.

“I love you.” He whispers at you. “I’m sorry.”

Your grin stretches into a smile and you give him a very quick kiss.

Here we go.

“Love you too, Matty.” You tell him.

Hope this is good!! I’m kinda worried that this is too rushed but sometimes I just really don’t know how to make it better.

#Matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Late Night Trips (Day 3: Bats)

This is a continuation of Day 2. Read it here

Marinette walks around the Halloween section of the store, giggling into her phone.

“I don’t know why you’re so against it!” She teases, adding a bag of bat window clings to her little basket, despite Jason’s grumbling on the other end of the phone.

“Because the vigilantes are known as the Bats, M. Just feels weird for our windows to be covered in tiny bats.” He grumbles, and she snorts, glad that he can’t see the way her face reddens when he refers to the windows as theirs. Sure, he hadn’t officially moved in, but he stayed at her place more than the manor lately. She loved it.

“Okay, Jay, if it really upsets you that much, I won’t get them.” She promises, taking the bats back out of her basket. She really did think they were cute though, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“We could get ghosts or pumpkins instead.” Jason suggests and she grins, switching the bats out with the ghosts.

“Hmmm, the ghosts have top hats, so I’m definitely sticking with those.” She says. There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Jay?”

“Marinette, are you at the store right now?” He asks, and she can hear the concern in his voice.

“Yeah, but I’m at the little one down the street. I’ll be fine, Jason.” She reassured him. She loved him, she did, but he got way too paranoid about her going out at night sometimes. Sure that was when more Rogues and criminals were active, but she could take care of herself. Which she clearly showed him last weekend when she punched that stupid Scarecrow in the face.

“I- please, M. Just, please be careful.” He says, not lecturing her like he’d half expected.

“I will be, promise. See you when you get home.” She says. He worked nights most of the time, but she was still able to see him since she kind of made her own hours when she was working on commissions. Or, she just stayed up all day and night. It was honestly a coin toss.

“I love you.” He says, and her smile widens.

“Love you too.” She says, hanging up and heading to the registers. She quickly checks out and leaves, pulling her jacket closer as she steps out into the cold night. That was the only thing she didn’t love about Gotham. The cold. Once the sun was down, it was like it was winter, no matter the time of year. Sighing, she continues her walk back to the apartment, careful to make sure she stays aware of her surroundings. Sure, she could fight off a mugger, but she didn’t necessarily want to. She just wanted to get home and half a nice cup of coffee. Or hot chocolate. Something warm. She hums under her breath, almost to the apartment, when the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Immediately, she tenses. She starts to move a little faster, grimacing as she hears the footsteps behind her quicken as well. Of course the streets are empty. She’s the only one stupid enough to actually be out this late. Crap. She yelps in surprise as the person- man, she realizes- that had been following her grabs her wrist and twists her around.

“Come on sweetheart, doncha wanna spend some time with me.” The man says, tugging her close and letting his reeking breath pour over her face. She grimaces.

“No thank you.” She says, trying to tug her wrist away from the man. His eyes narrow and his grip tightens, more than she’d been expecting. He turns them so that they’re just inside the alley instead of on the open street. Oh hell no.

“C’mon babe-” He starts before she cuts him off with a punch in the face. He groans in surprise and stumbles slightly, still not letting go of her wrist. “If that’s how ya wanna be.” He says, his eyes darkening. She huffs and drops her bags, bringing her knee up and kneeing him in just the right place. He doubles over and lets go of her wrist. Now having both hands, she’s able to grab him (he’s too busy groaning in pain) and ram his head into the wall. He crumples almost instantly and she lets out a huff. So maybe Jason was right and she shouldn’t go shopping so late at night. But he didn’t have to know about this, right?

“Are you alright ma’am?” A voice asks. She whirls around, her fists up in defense until she sees who it is. She sighs and relaxes her posture.

“Hello Nightwing. Um, yeah, yeah I’m fine.” She says, glancing at the man on the ground. “Though, I’d feel a bit better if you had something we could tie him up with.”

“Of course. Robin?” He says, and she blinks in surprise as a hero who couldn’t be older than fifteen steps out of the shadows. Obviously she’d done her research on the heroes, but she was still a little taken aback to see a teenager in costume again. She just nods at him in thanks as he pulls out...zip ties? And cuffs the man’s hands behind his back.

“You were quite efficient in taking the man down. We approached just as you got out of his grip.” Robin says, and she smiles awkwardly.

“Yeah, uh, there were villains in Paris when I was a kid so I had to learn some basic self defense.” She says, not telling them everything, but not exactly lying either.

“Still, you know it’s really dangerous to be out this late at night, right? Even for someone who took down Scarecrow as well as you did.” Nightwing says and she flinches back, frowning.

“Uh, sorry, that day is a little fuzzy. Were you there?” She asks. Sure, Red Robin could’ve just told the others, but the look on his face? How he said it? Makes it seem like he’d actually seen the fight.

“No, but we watched the body cam footage from Red Robin.” Nightwing says with a wide smile.

“Mon Dieu.” She mumbles, shaking her head. She could tell Jason that some of the Bats thought she was a good fighter, but then she’d have to admit what happened tonight. And she really didn’t want him to worry any more than he already does.

“We will assist you in getting home once the police arrive to pick up this cretin.” Robin says, and she puffs her cheeks out, trying to figure out a nice way to tell them ‘thanks but no thanks’. If they had to wait around for the police, there was a chance Jason would be home by the time they got there.

“I’m sure I can get home just fine by myself.” She reassures them, and Nightwing frowns.

“Probably, but it would be kinda rude of us to send you along after something like this and not make sure you made it home safe.” He says. She sighs.

“Look, is there any way you can follow from the roofs or something? If you guys escort me home and my boyfriend is there, I’m gonna have to look at him and tell him he’s right and I shouldn’t go to the store late at night and he’s gonna panic and freak out that I could’ve been hurt which is super sweet, but then he’s not gonna be overprotective for a week and that makes it hard on him because then he doesn’t concentrate at work and I know he thinks I don’t notice but every time I get hurt, he comes home from work hurt and I know it’s because he’s distracted and I hate seeing him hurt and-” She rambles, only stopping when Nightwing puts a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise and she winces in apology.

“We’ll trail you, but you should still probably tell him.” He says softly, and she frowns, nodding. This was gonna suck.

---

Marinette waves at the roof of the building across the street before walking into the building and heading up to the apartment. She can hear the low hum of the tv, letting her know Jason is already home. She takes in a deep breath before unlocking the door and walking in.

“Hey M.” Jason calls from the couch, a smile on his face. She smiles back, silently noting that his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. He was either fighting with his dad again, or something went wrong at work. And now she was about to drop the whole ‘I took down a guy who tried to yank me into an alley’ thing on him. She sets her bags on the table and kicks her shoes off before walking over and sitting on the couch, instantly curling into his side. They sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes and she relaxes.

“You okay?” He asks softly, and she sighs, sitting up and looking at him, wringing her hands together.

“So, don’t freak out.” She says, and he frowns. “Um, you were right about the whole shopping at night in Gotham thing.” She says, thankful that he seems to understand immediately.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, eyes scanning her, pausing on her wrist. She frowns. Her wrist was definitely currently hidden by her sleeve, how did he know it was bruised? She sighs and pushes her sleeves up, grinning at him awkwardly.

“Just a little bruise.” She says, and he frowns.

“A little- Marinette, that bruise is all around your wrist. Are you sure it’s not broken?” He asks worriedly.

“I’m sure, I know what broken bones feel like. I’m a clutz, remember?” She teases, smiling softly at him. She breathes a sigh of relief when he wraps his arms around her and pulls her close. He shifts so that he’s practically laying on the couch, moving her so that she’s laying on top of him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He mumbles. She rolls her eyes, burying herself into his chest.

“I’m fine, Jay. I won’t go shopping so late next time. Besides, some of the Bats showed up.” She says, giggling at his scoff.

“As if those idiots did anything.” He snarks.

“I mean, Nightwing and Robin both commented on my fighting skills.” She teases, laughing as he reaches up and turns her face to look at him.

“M, Marinette, love of my life, what exactly did Robin say?” He asks and her face heats up at how easily he calls her the love of his life. Did he mean it?

“Uh, something about being efficient in taking the man down?” She says, finding it hard to think with how intense Jason’s stare was. He laughs, a wide smile on his face.

“Ya know, Robin is supposedly the least easily impressed. Apparently he can be a bit of a pain.” He says and she grins before laying back down.

“Well then, at least we know I can take care of myself.” She says, feeling him sigh. He doesn’t disagree though, just kisses the top of her head. Warm and safe, she slowly drifts off to sleep.

---

BONUS

Jason smirks as he walks into the Batcave the next night.

“So Demon Spawn, my girlfriend is an efficient fighter?” He asks. Damian scowls.

“Shut it, Todd. Just because I think she is an efficient fighter does not mean that I believe you are.” He says and Jason snorts. “Don’t laugh Todd, I truly believe that she could knock you on your ass.”

“Language, Little D.” Dick says, walking in with his suit on, but mask off. “He does have a point though. I think she could probably hold her own against any of us, even for a couple minutes.” Jason just grins widely. Oh yeah, his girlfriend was a badass.

***

Taglist: @maribat-october-rarepairs @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess

#maribat #maribat fanfiction #ao3fic #MaribatHalloween21 #jasonette #maribat jason todd #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat damian wayne #maribat dick grayson #maribat oneshot

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gucciwins · 4 years

Text

Weeping Willow

Harry sends his wife for a girl’s night, and their five-month-old baby falls sick.

Word count: 5,093

A/N: i am no expert on babies (unless it’s my almost two-year-old niece) but i have it on good authority this does bring down fevers. This was written for @tbslenthusiast dadathon. i hope you love it. xx

___

It's a Saturday night, and Harry tries his best to convince his wife to go out with her friends for a nice dinner while he cares for baby Willow.

Their five-month-old infant. The sweetest little girl to grace the earth in Harry's opinion.

He's never felt a love like this, a never-ending love for his child. He swears he has never been more in love with his wife, his twin flame, for giving him the greatest gift he will ever receive.

She's standing there cradling Willow in her arms as she begins to drift off to sleep. Humming a song she hasn't shared with Harry. Something special between mother and daughter. As much as Harry hates to admit it but their daughter is a momma's girl at heart.

Willow feels that extra protection from her mother; he gives her all the cuddles and kisses, but there is no more special bond than when Y/N holds her close to her heart, and Willow settles down in seconds. When she is breastfeeding, Y/N tells her the stories of her childhood and when Harry and she were first dating.

It's the irregular sleep schedule that Y/N has never once complained about.

Harry wakes up at the oddest of times when he stretches his arms out to reach for Y/N to pull her close to his chest only to find her missing. More time than not, he'll find her at their windowsill, Willow getting her night time meal as Y/N gazes at the moon softly singing Lolo a lullaby that was once sung to Y/N. The moonlight bouncing off her skin made her look eternal as if she weren't real, and Harry just imagined up this life.

But she is real, and she is all his, and their daughter is theirs.

As a kid, this was the life he dreamed of, never knowing if it would come true or not. He will never stop being grateful for all he has in life, full of love.

Harry is brought out of his thoughts when Y/N addresses him.

"I don't know, H. She's a little warm." Y/N stands there, the back of her hand gently placed on her baby's forehead before moving it to Willow's cheek. She smiles down at her sleeping baby.

Harry sighs, extending his arms for her to hand him their small baby. She shakes her head, taking two steps back.

Harry chuckles because he knew this would happen, but he forgot how stubborn she could be.

She's wearing Harry's lilac robe, her hair curled, and makeup is done. He made her do a red lipstick because he missed it. It's one that Gemma gave her that's smudge and transfer free. Meaning he can kiss her with it all night long without his lips turning red.

"Willow is fine. Maybe she passed some gas."

She rips her gaze from Willow and shoots him a glare. He puts his hands up in defense.

"If she starts feeling sick, you know the crying won't stop. She likes it when I soothe her."

"She's my daughter too. I can take care of her and soothe her just as good."

She kisses Willow's head, slowly continuing to grow brown curls just like Harry's. "I know you can, but there's this motherly instinct telling me not to go."

"My husband instinct is saying that my wife should go out to dinner with her friends for a nice dinner and some wine." Harry rebuttals.

"I don't drink." She mutters into her baby's head as she adjusts her to lay on her chest as she sways side to side.

"Well, then go crazy with the strawberry lemonade."

She sighs. Harry knows she's close to giving in.

Her clothes set out in bed, ready for her to throw on. Harry chose her outfit, and he's proud of it. Camel-tone flared fitted trousers, a black fitted v-neck, and a double-breasted twill blazer to tie the look. Her black Gucci 'sucker' boots waiting for her at the door to be slipped on then head out the door.

"If I go, you have to promise to text me every hour."

"Half hour if you really need it." He counters.

She shakes her head, no. "If you do that, I'll be home by the second text."

He nods, happy she agreed to go. She needs this no matter how much she had been fighting it.

"Alright, Lolo, I'm going to leave you with your Daddy for a few hours. I hope you don't miss me too much. I'll make up for leaving you with cuddles for the whole night, munchkin."

Harry's eyes well up, always in awe at the relationship between his wife and their daughter. Their beautiful five-month-old daughter who Harry, thinks is growing too fast. She's still on the small side, but the doctor assured them she was doing good.

Y/N placed her in the crib that Harry put together with Gemma's help, who wanted to be involved with as much as Harry would let her.

She stirs a little, but Y/N pats her chest softly, calming her down.

"I'm going to go get dressed. Turn on the baby monitor, please?" She points in the direction of it.

"On it, love."

She walks out and gets dressed quickly, knowing there's a reservation, and she doesn't like arriving late. Harry meets her downstairs baby monitor in hand as she stands boots safely on her feet.

Harry shamelessly checks her out. He almost begs her to stay after seeing how good she looks, but he knows she needs this.

"Text me when you get there." He wraps her in a hug, not wanting to let go just yet.

"Of course."

She pulls back, looking up at him before leaning in to peck his lips three times; she walks out the door, bag in hand, when Harry tugs her wrist, turning her around connecting his lips with hers. It's a short passionate kiss, Harry's tongue fighting for dominance. She lets out a small moan. Y/N, let's Harry be the one to pull back, not at all wanting to break the kiss.

Harry smirks as he sees the dazed look in her eyes. "Just so you know what you have waiting at home for you."

"You menace." Harry leans on the door as she walks out. "I love you, H."

"And I love you."

Harry watched as she drove away before going back in and heading straight to the nursery, where his darling Willow is still sleeping.

"Just you and me, Lolo," Harry whispers as he sits in the rocking chair and lays back to rest his eyes. It's like they say when the baby sleeps, he does as well.

____

Harry wakes up when he hears a small sneeze. He peeks at Willow, but she still has her eyes closed. He picks up his phone to check how long he slept and is shocked. It was only twenty minutes; he felt like it had been much longer now, feeling a bit more energized.

He sees a text Darling and opens it,

I've arrived safely.

I miss you both so much already. xx

Harry can't help but smile. He misses her already. He might always be playing music in the house that fills the silence, but Harry only does it because she sings along to each song no matter how bad she can butcher the lyrics to an unknown song.

She fills the home with warmth and love.

I love you! Lolo is still sleeping. Have a lovely night. xx

Harry sat in the rocking chair, just gazing at his daughter. Her cheeks were a little red, but he thought she might be a bit warm. He unwraps the blanket, just watching her stretch out her small fists.

Willow slowly blinks her eyes open, a small smile on her face when she sees her father looking down at her.

"You up, Lolo? No more sleep, I'm guessing."

She continues to stare at Harry before turning her head to the door. Harry knows she's waiting for someone to come in. After a few moments of no movements, Willow looks at Harry, giving her a small smile.

"Waiting for your Mum, I know. She'll be back later; for now, it's you and me."

Harry reaches in to pick her up, gently shushing her, not wanting her to start crying. He walks down the stairs slowly, the fear of tripping down the stairs more present than ever with his baby in his arms.

Harry sits her on the couch, a pillow propped up on the back to help support her back, and grabs her stuffed bunny that was left on the coffee table. It's her favorite toy to play with at all times.

Willow sets it in her lap, not at all looking at it, eyes on Harry. He sees her eyes begin to well up, and he knows the tears are coming. He scoops her up gently, letting the bunny fall to the floor so Harry could soothe his baby.

"My Willo baby, no tears. You know it breaks my heart." He begins shushing gently. Gemma swears by it watching Alice do the Ss in New Amsterdam. Y/N does it too, her grandma teaching her that when she helped watch over younger cousins.

This settles her for a second, resting her head in the crook of Harry's neck as he rubs a hand gently down her back. "Good baby, Momma would be proud of us." He knows he made a mistake once she lets out a loud wail.

He can only assume the word Momma did it for her.

His phone alarm begins to ring, meaning it's the hour update, and if he doesn't check-in, she'll call, and if he doesn't answer, she'll worry even more and drive herself more. He does not need that happening.

Harry will not let her call; he'll send a sleeping photo of Willow to Y/N to keep her calm because he can do this. He can tend to his child alone. She's half of his DNA; why wouldn't he be able to.

His Mum always told him babies cry for three reasons: dirty diaper, sleepy, and hunger. He assumes she's hungry. Has to be, her diaper doesn't feel full, and she also doesn't smell.

As Harry goes to the kitchen, he stops at the fridge. He sees all the magnets that Y/N loves collecting when visiting a new country, state, or city. Her favorite being the Trevi Fountain. Tells her every time she sees it, she can see Harry down on his knee, tears in his eyes and heart wide open for her. Safe to say it became his favorite as well. Right under it is a yellow sticky note "Just in case xx Dr. Harp" The phone number of Willow's pediatrician.

Y/N really is the best, but he knows that he has everything under control, or at least he keeps telling himself that as Willow continues her crying, no amount of words calms her. He'd also call his Mum before the pediatrician, who would only end up calling Y/N.

"Mummy left your milk in the fridge; now, all we have to do is warm it up."

Willow's cries go quiet for a second at what Harry can only think was at word milk. He can do this.

They don't bottle feed her as often, both preferring her to breastfeed directly from Y/N. Harry encouraged her to pump milk because Y/N has complained over too many milk stained shirts. It has helped her tremendously. A few times, when Y/N was too tired to get up, he offered to warm the milk to feed Willow. Y/N knew how important it was for Harry, so she allowed him and began pumping more for Harry to help provide her during the day.

He gets a bowl and fills it with hot water, then places the bottle in. He knows it should be a few minutes, he begins singing to Willow. He sings her the song he wrote for his sister, which holds meaning to Y/N now, finding a connection that makes them feel at peace when hearing the song. As Harry gently sings 'Sweet Creature,' he sees her settle, nose runny from the tears, he grabs one of her clothes that Y/N keeps in the kitchen. Truth be told, she has them spread all over the house to have one on hand when necessary. He wipes the snot then drapes it over his open shoulder. He checks the temperature, able to hear Y/N scold him in his head for wanting to skip the step.

"Lolo, going to go sit down, and then you can begin eating." She blinks up at him, her green eyes unfocused, refusing to settle on one place of his face.

He sits and adjusts Willow to cradle her in his arms. He does a final temperature check on his wrist and is happy with the outcome. He slowly brings it up to her lips to startle her, and she latches on after a few seconds.

Harry leans back on the chair, releasing a long sigh. He feels victorious, even just for a moment.

The phone on the couch seat next to him displays a text:

I love you both. xx

He's in the clear.

Harry sings Willow the first song that pops into his head, well he mainly hums as she has her eyes closed and a fist clenched on her blanket and the other tucked in. He pulls the bottle away once he sees no more movement. He wipes the outside of her mouth very carefully to not disturb her.

"Willow, Angel, I need to burp you. You shouldn't even feel it." Harry likes warning her; he knows she understands.

He's done relatively quickly, settling her back in his arms to let her sleep. Harry would love to turn the television on, but he settles for staring at the angel in his arms.

Harry frowns when he sees Willow's eyes flutter open. She sleeps longer after eating.

"Lolo, it's barely been ten minutes. That's not enough for a growing baby. You need to grow up to be strong, just like Momma."

Willow lets out a small cough. It startles Harry, not having heard the sound before. He gently picks her up and begins patting her back, soothing her as she calms down.

Harry thinks back to the phone number stuck on the fridge but shakes the thought away because one cough is not enough to make a call, especially this late at night.

He is now slowly walking in front of the couch, trying to get her to fall back to sleep. It's not working.

It starts off in small whimpers before turning into loud wails.

This is not good.

Harry tries his best to place his baby's cries, but it does not sound familiar. He isn't calling Y/N; worrying her is not part of tonight's plans, but there is someone in mind who will always answer him. Without thinking twice, he goes to favorites and picks the second person.

"Hello love, how are you?"

He's greeted by a calming voice, but it does nothing to soothe the pounding in his heart. "Hi, Mum." Harry isn't even sure she heard with Willow's loud cries.

"Is something wrong? Why is little Willow crying? Where's Y/N?" Anne is quick to jump in.

"Today was her first girl's night out that I was insistent she go out to even though she didn't want to, but she should be back in the next hour or so." He addressed that question before jumping into the most important one. "Willow coughed then settled down before bursting into this cry. I've never heard it before. It's not her hungry one because she ate half an hour ago, and her diaper is clean." He lets out a sob he didn't know he was holding back.

"Oh, dear, right. First off, is she hot? warmer than usual."

Harry pulls her back, face scrunched up, nose full of snot. He places the back of his hand on his forehead, and it's burning. "Yes, she's warm. But couldn't it be from the crying?"

Anne sighs, worried for her son, but this is parenthood having to see your child get sick and old help them through it. The first time is always the worst, but each time after that still breaks your heart. "No love, check her temperature and call the pediatrician. Tell her the symptoms, and you can go from there. Right, hang up, call Y/N, and the pediatrician in that order."

Harry agrees to get her off the phone and to make the call right away. Anne knows Harry well enough that he will skip one important thing she told him to do, so she takes it upon herself to get it done.

He heads upstairs, sitting the still crying Willow in the crib as he searches for the thermometer he knows Y/N keeps next to the wipes for emergencies. He is quick to take off her shirt as gently as one can be and sticks it under her armpit as he waits for it to ring as he dials Dr. Harp.

There is an answer on the third ring, just as the thermometer beeps.

"Dr. Harp, hello, it's Harry Styles, father of Willow Styles." He says in a rush.

"Yes, Mr. Styles, what can I do for you." The doctor's voice is kind, and it calms Harry knowing there's a professional helping him.

"Well, my daughter slept about ten minutes before waking up after eating, and that isn't normal for her. She had a bit of a cough and has not stopped crying for the past twenty minutes now. She's burning up Doc. The thermometer says 103F. Shit, I meant 39C. My wife's family got us a fancy thermometer that gives us both numbers." He feels the need to explain a hand on the back of Willow's head, trying to calm her down as well as himself.

"Well, it seems it could be a common cold. There is not a lot to do, except keep your baby drinking milk. Mrs. Styles is still breastfeeding, correct?"

"Yes."

"Okay, it's important to keep her hydrated and check with her through the night. To bring down the temperature, a lukewarm bath would help as well as a humidifier because, from the sounds of it, she is a bit congested."

Harry nods along to everything she is saying, repeating it back. "Thank you so much, Dr. Harp."

"It's no problem; if the fever doesn't break or gets higher than 40C, then I suggest you head straight to the hospital." Dr. Harp says her goodbyes as he picks up Willow and heads to their bedroom, taking her into their bathroom.

He looks around, not sure what to do first that he misses the sound of the door opening and closing as well as footsteps up the stairs. It might have also been Willow's crying.

Willow lock's eyes with Y/N over Harry's shoulder, stopping for a second, causing Harry to gasp before she starts up louder than before for not being in her mother's arms.

"Willow, darling," Y/N smiles at her daughter, cheeks red and nose snotty but still her beautiful baby.

Harry feels like he can breathe properly now that she's home with him. His missing half home, finally feeling complete. He does feel awful for not calling her right away, but he swore she was having a good time.

Harry hands over Willow to Y/N's waiting arms watching as she cradles her close, pressing repeated kisses to her daughter's brown hair. Willow instantly clenches a fist onto her necklace, not that Y/N minds, but Harry feels guilty for depriving his daughter of her mother. It was his fault she was out tonight.

"How'd you get here so quick?" Are the first words Harry thinks to say.

Harry thought she'd be mad at him for not calling, but all he sees are her kind and gentle eyes he fell in love with.

"Anne called me to update me, but I was already ten minutes from home. I had dinner but got it to go having that nagging feeling you needed me. Anne called it mother's intuition, but" She breathes in Willow's smell, Harry finding it endearing how she always says she smells amazing like peaches. "I swear I could feel how distressed you were. I thought you were having a bad time, so I got you ice cream and brought home a meal we could share."

He leans against the sink, a small grin forming on his face. "I did always tell you we were soulmates."

Y/N steps further into the bathroom, heading to the tub to get the water-filled. She sits on the toilet, letting it fill before dipping her hand in from time to time. It feels a bit less than halfway before she closes the tap.

"Doctor's orders were getting the temperature down, right?" Y/N asks Harry, and he nods. "Well, in the lukewarm bath, she goes." Y/N fakes as if she is going to place Willow in before hugging her to her chest once more. "I'm only playing." She boops Lolo's nose.

"Your momma thinks she's so funny, Lolo." Harry rolls his eyes at her, not at all, hiding the love behind them.

"Get in the bath with her, H." Y/N has successfully undressed Willow, giving her kisses all over, causing Willow to let out a small giggle.

Harry near tears now. "That's the first time she laughed this entire night."

"Honey, listen. She hasn't gotten sick before. It's okay, we're learning." She reaches a hand up to cup his cheek, and he leans into it eagerly. "We are learning together." He nods as she pulls her hand away. "Now, do I need to undress my other baby as well?"

He smiles. "You're welcome to, but I got this." He slips off the black shirt and grey sweats, leaving on his briefs.

The water is perfect. Not that he expected any different because she does everything with extra care and love for Willow. He's glad to have her as his life partner and mother of his child and future children.

He slips in, sitting down, letting Y/N gently place Willow on his bent knees. He cups her head, gently sinking himself lower. She hands him a cloth, and he looks at her, eyes wide.

"Wet it, rinse it a bit, then just sponge it around her."

He nods but doesn't move to receive it. Y/N moves forward, dips it in the water, and squeezes it leaving a bit of water. She gently gets Lolo's back patting before moving down.

"Thank you." He says and accepts the cloth.

Y/N makes her way to the bedroom. "You're leaving?" He questions, causing Willow to look at her as well.

She laughs at her two loves, both wanting her close. "Going to turn on the humidifier. It's going to be good for her and her congestion. Then will get you both a new change of clothes before coming back. Is that okay with you both?"

Harry looks down at Willow that still has her eyes on her Momma. "What do you think, Lolo? Think we should let Momma take care of us." He hums as if hearing her response. "She said not to take too long."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Harry settles in, Willow moving her hand in the water, intrigued by the ripples allowing Harry to rinse her. He feels good, feels great, and can honestly help her and no longer cry about it.

Y/N knows he needs this but hopes she isn't feeling too awful about leaving Willow when she got sick for the first time.

For all, he knows she could be crying in their bedroom or, even worse, the nursery where he can't hear her.

But that's what Harry is here to remind her what a fantastic team they are and how she saved the day like always. He's proud of her just as he knows she's proud of him.

____

It's twenty minutes when Y/N walks back in. Now dressed in grey sweats and an old white shirt that Willow loves to cling on. She approaches, and Harry raises Willow so that she can wrap her in the yellow towel.

"My munchkin smells so good." She kisses her cheek. She turns to look at Harry with a smile on her face making him smile back. "Shower, I'm going to dress her, and then I'll bring your clothes in."

"Okay, love."

Harry drains the water before turning on the showerhead, letting the warm water wash away the stress in his body. He doesn't take too long, wanting to cuddle his two girls all night long.

Walking out, dressing in the warm clothes that she must have thrown in the dryer for him knowing how he likes to be warm after a long night. He smiles, slipping the shirt over his head, slipping on the black sweats with no need for briefs. Turning off the bathroom light, closing the door, he sees Willow lying on Y/N's chest.

"How is she doing?" Harry paddles over, hovering over Y/N to kiss her forehead, doing the same to Willow.

"Better, the temperature is at 98."

Harry smiles, glad she's under three digits again. She looks sweet dressed in a bodysuit with small bumble bees all over. Y/N wrapped the knitted mint green blanket that Y/N's mother made for Willow around her shoulder to keep her warm but not enough to overheat.

"That's great. Our baby is so strong." Harry gets in bed and sits against the headboard, making Y/N shift over to rest her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around Willow for support.

____

It's an hour of silence basking in hearing their baby's breathing. Not as smooth due to the congestion but better than before. Harry places a kiss on Y/N's forehead when he feels the first tear, then many more follow. A sob breaking out, but breathing even to not disturb their sleeping baby on her chest.

"Love, lovie, hey. Don't cry. She's doing better already." He wraps the arm tighter, hoping he can transfer all his love for her through the hug.

"I'm just overwhelmed." She chokes out.

Harry sits up to face her, reaches his hands out to wipe her rapidly falling tears.

"Please don't be mad with yourself; if there is anyone to be mad at, it's me." He pleads for her to understand. "I told you to leave us be."

"Not mad at you, honey." She whimpers. "I-I-I'm upset I wasn't here to help you. But you handled it so well. Very proud of you."

Harry sits there, tears falling out of his eyes now because she was proud. He did nothing. He knows he did nothing; he called his Mum and the doctor. He never got her to stop crying.

"I didn't do anything."

"Honey, you did." Her voice firm, one hand reaching up to gently raise his head to look at her. "You called Anne because you knew she would help and then called Dr. Harp for help."

"But she never stopped crying, not until you held her."

She shakes her head. "She was feeling bad, she cried at discomfort and unusual feelings. Might have also sensed your panic," She teases. He lets out a small chuckle.

"We're a team. Together and apart, H."

Harry lays down on his side, pulling Y/N down with him. He does it slowly to not move Willow; Harry lays his head on her shoulder, looking down at their baby. He lets himself relax, knowing she's going to be okay.

"I love you." He whispers. No response causing him to look up at a grinning Y/N. "Say it back."

She giggles. "Thought you were talking to Lolo."

"That was for you, wife."

"My bad," She pecks his nose. "I love you, H."

"Missed." He mutters, puckering his lips in her directions.

"Dork." She closes the small distance and hums at the sweet taste that is Harry and mint toothpaste. He deepens it for a few seconds before pulling back. His eyes closed. He kisses her from her cheeks to her collarbones, no spot left untouched. He steals one more kiss before settling down.

"Sleep tight, my darling, Willow," Harry whispers, throwing his arm over Willow's small body and Y/N's stomach for extra protection.

He peeks one eye open to see Y/N smiling down at Willow, no sign of sleep in her features. "I take it you won't be going out anytime soon again."

"You got that right." She jokes. "No, it was nice. I forgot how good it is to chat about anything other than what size diapers she's going to need next."

"That's not all we talk about. We also talk about the size of your boobs."

She snorts at his comment, and he happily joins in.

"We haven't had a date night, well we have but indoors with a baby always in arms."

Harry smirks. "What do you have in mind, love?"

She blushes, "We go away for the weekend, leave Willow with Anne or Mitch since he keeps saying we keep his goddaughter away from him."

"You'd be okay with that?" Harry checks, making sure she really wants this.

She nods. "I'll miss her like crazy, my heart is beating faster just at the thought, but I miss you." There's a gleam in her eye, one when she gets lost in a memory. "It's quickies and late-night conversations. As much as I love our daughter, I miss my best friend."

Harry grins, glad she's sharing this. "Any other time, I'd make a joke, but honestly, I miss you just as much."

"Then, coordinate with Jeff on a weekend you're free and look for a place we can go to. Driving or flying whatever you find best."

"Oh, baby, I'm going to make you fall in love with me all over again."

"I'm counting on it, Harry."

Harry helps Y/N drift off to sleep with his ideas of where they can go and all the naughty things they will get up to.

Harry knows nothing in life will be better than being in the arms of his two favorite girls.

___

Thank you for reading. Please reblog it means a lot to me.

Come and tell me what you thought of Weeping Willow

#harry styles #dadathon #harry styles x reader #dad! harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles story #thank you for reading!

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years

Text

Chapter 15

WC: 1082

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of depressed mood

🧠

The dreams of the doctor don’t stop even after he dismisses you, but they do change. Now the dreams take on a completely different tone. They are full of confusion and fear and loss. You’ll be in some mundane place when suddenly you see him in the distance, that steely gaze on you as he examines you from afar. It feels as though you are his prey, although he never pounces. Instead, the second you try to get close to him he turns to leave, or he vanishes in thin air, as though he never existed. You get so close but you can never reach him.

In the waking hours you do your best to ignore your emotions in favor of finding another job. You know that if you allow yourself to dwell you might shut down completely at how suddenly life went in the gutter, losing both your source of income and the man you’d grown so attached to. More than two weeks have passed. Each day you grow more frustrated at the lack of jobs that meet your needs as a student. Those that do appear to fit your schedule have yet to call and schedule and interview. So you wait.

You distracted yourself by throwing your energy into your graduate work when you weren’t searching for jobs. Late nights were being spent at the library. Once, you had even just slept on the small couch overnight instead of going home. It was easier to focus on your work than to get lost in the thoughts of him. At least your advisor was happy; lord knows someone deserved to be.

Bitsy knows you are depressed. She says nothing and spares you pitying looks. She knows that if you want to talk that she is there to listen. But only when you’re ready. At night you lay in bed in a trance-like state; it was the only time you allowed yourself to think of him. Over and over again you recount what happened between you and the doctor. It made less sense the longer you obsessed. You had been so certain that you weren’t alone in your feelings. But his dismissal of you from the post as his TA made it clear just how wrong you were. You had crossed a line.

“Hey, how are you? I haven’t seen you in a while,” a quiet voice spoke next to you, breaking the quiet that was the library.

You look up from where your head is propped on your fist. It’s Sara. You sit up straight. “Hi. I’m, uh…. I’m good.” You cringe at how unconvincing you sound.

“Shouldn’t you be with Laszlo right now? Or is he here too?” she asks, leaning her hip on the table at which you sit.

You blink at her. Voice as controlled as you can manage you respond with “Did he not tell you?”

Sara looks deep in concentration for a moment. Her brows scrunch; “tell me what?”

Now your annoyance grows. Clearly she, and you assume by proxy John, had no idea what transpired between you and the doctor. “He let me go. Said he didn’t need my help anymore. I haven’t seen him in weeks.” You can’t meet her eyes as you confess.

She gasps in her shock. “Did he give a reason?” As much as you like and trust her, you fear exposing the truth. You shrug. Under her breath she mutters “that man wouldn’t know a gift horse if it looked him in the damned mouth.” She shakes her head, her own annoyance clear in her features. “Do you need anything? Are you looking for another placement? It’s a little late in the term but I can put in a good word for you?”

Once more you lie; “No, that’s alright thank you. I have a few interviews lined up this week. I’ll manage fine.” She nods, a guilty look on her face.

“Well if anything should change, you know where to find me. Perhaps one night soon we can even have a girls night and catch up.” She checks the time on her phone. “I have to get going, but let me know alright.” She offers a smile and a squeeze on your shoulder as she goes.

Half an hour goes by with you just staring at your laptop. An email alert breaks you from the nothingness. Opening the document, you see it is a paycheck deposit notification. You do a double take. It is dated after Kreizler dismissed you. “What… there’s no way this is right?” You huff. The last thing you need to have the feds come after you for accidental fraud or something, so you pack up and head to the student affairs office.

When you reach the front of the queue you paste on your best smile. “Roger, dear how have you been? It’s been months. How’re the wife and kids?”

The portly man squints at you before finally deciding that “oh, I remember you. What can I do for you this time?”

“I got a paycheck for a TA job that I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to have. Can you check the system please?” He types away for a short period of time.

“Yes, it says you received the standard wage for the most recent 2 week pay period.”

“Exactly,” you point at him with a finger.

He looks over his bifocals at you. “I’m not sure what the problem is here?”

“I don’t have the job anymore,” you explain.

He frowns as he inspects the screen in front of him. “Says here you do. Did your supervisor formally withdraw you from the position? It’s part of their contractual obligations.”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Looks like they didn’t change it in the system. You’ve still got the position.”

You scratch at your forehead trying to make sense of everything. Why hadn’t he taken you off the listing? He knew how much you needed the job, how much you needed the money- The realization that he must have done this on purpose hits you like a freight train. You scoff.

Roger looks you up and down for a moment before asking if he can help you with anything else. Keeping your tone as polite as you can manage in your anger, you tell him “no, thank you, Roger. You’ve been a big help.”

You leave the student center, marching at a brutal pace to find Laszlo and give him a piece of your mind.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @thatoneartgalsstuff

#the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #scuttle-buttle

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coffeeaddictwithproblems · 3 years

Text

sleeping beauty

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feat: tōru oikawa x gn!reader

notes: fluff, 1.2k words

message: I totally didn’t stay up till past 3 in the morning to right the majority of this, that’s crazy…

──────────────────────

have fun reading :)

If you were asked to describe your boyfriend in one word it would be insufferable. If you were asked again to describe your boyfriend in one word it would be mesmerizing. His fans knew it, his followers on social media knew it, his teammates and friends knew it, even you knew it.

Tōru Oikawa is an attractive person, there is no doubt about that. But even the most glamorous people have their ugly moments. And what better example than sleep. No one is free from the awkward positions of limbs or drool dripping down their chin, including your boyfriend. Right?

Well, that was exactly what you have set out to find today.

……

A long yawn draws breathily from Oikawa’s mouth. The bags under his eyes appear darker than a few moments ago when you had last glanced at him. If that wasn’t telling enough of how tired he is, the droop of his eyes and slump of his shoulders more than screams it.

The two of you are cuddled together on the couch, your phone held between your knees for the two of you to see. You had agreed to let him watch videos of his volleyball matches and practices as long as you got to sit in his lap.

Apparently, practice had tuckered him out more than you both had originally thought. With matches lining up so frequently, the team was training harder than usual - Oikawa especially.

He rubs at his groggy eyes as he suppresses another yawn. “Mm, I think I’m going to take a nap, Starlight.”

You smile sweetly at him, pressing a chaste peck to his cheek. “Get some rest.”

Pecking your temple, he carefully moves you from between his legs as he stands up. You watch him make his way down the hall and slip into the bedroom, the door cracked open a sliver behind him. You stay sitting on the couch a little longer, engrossed in the video.

An hour or so passes before you realize how drained your phone battery is. The low battery notification pops up on your screen, pausing what you were watching. You mutter a curse under your breath as you jump up from the couch to find a charger.

It takes you running around the entirety of the house to remember you had left your charger in the bedroom. The exact same bedroom your boyfriend is sound asleep in. A devilish thought creeps into your head.

There couldn’t be a more perfect opportunity to test your theory.

Carefully selecting the least creaky floorboards, you creep towards your shared bedroom. Pushing the door open a little wider, you peek your head inside the dark room. Oikawa’s figure softly raises up and down beneath the covers, his back facing you. Perfect.

You check your phone battery. Ten percent. It should be just enough to snap a handful of pictures before plugging it in. All you have to do is not make a single noise.

You ease the door open and slip inside, then close the door back to its original position. Your feet quietly pad across the floorboards as you circle the bottom of the bed towards the right side where Oikawa lay. The battery has gone down to five percent. It’s now or never. Flipping open the camera app, you bend down slightly for a better angle.

After double checking he’s still fast asleep, you snap a quick picture only to realize far too late the flash is on. A bright flash darts across the walls and illuminates Oikawa’s relaxed features for a split second. You curse sharply under your breath as you flick your phone down.

Barely given a moment to recollect yourself when you’re startled further by your boyfriend’s mumbled voice.

“It’s quite rude to take pictures without people’s permission, Starlight.”

Flinching with a sharp yelp, your phone drops from your grasp and clatters to the ground, nearly missing your foot before disappearing beneath the bed. “Oh no.” You drop to your knees and reach a hand underneath to blindly search for it.

The mattress creaks as Oikawa leans over to watch you. “Drop something?”

The glare you shoot him is nearly enough to wipe the smug smirk off his face. Huffing, you glance beneath the bed as you continue to pat around. Something thin and hard brushes against your fingers. You snatch your phone and pull your arm back.

“Aha!” Your triumph is short lived as your phone is suddenly plucked. “Hey!”

He holds the phone close to his chest, the screen angled upward so he can see the photo. “Not bad. Blurry, but you got my good side.”

With his focus on the screen, you take the moment to lunge forward, only to narrowly miss as he stretches his arm away. Jumping into his lap, you try again. He responds by further extending your phone from your reach.

“Tōru, this isn’t funny, give it back.”

Quickly growing tired of his antics, you tug at his arm to try and force him to give you it back. He easily fights against you, even smiling cheekily to himself.

“Need I remind you, Starlight, you were the one sneaking pictures of me while I was asleep.”

“I was just trying to get an ugly picture of you!”

As soon as the angry words leave your mouth, you freeze. The air tenses as both of you look at the other shocked faces, mouths agape and eyes wide. Oikawa is the first to speak, whispering almost too quietly for you to hear him.

“What?”

There’s a shadow of pain evident in his voice. The prick it jabs at your heart hurts nearly as bad. You crawl out of his lap to slump beside him and bring your knees to your chest, allowing him to properly sit up.

You take a deep breath in to calm your nerves, but it hardly helps. “You always look good in pictures, Tōru. Even when you don’t know one is being taken. I thought…” You wet your lips. “I thought if I snuck in while you were sleeping, I could finally get a bad picture. But now I just feel horrible.”

“Oh, Starlight.” Oikawa gently grabs your shoulder and draws you back into his lap, your head coming to rest on his chest over his heart.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel horrible in any way. Whether you believe me or not, you are the most stunning person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Thank you, Tōru,” you mumble through squished lips. “And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have done any of this.”

“It’s alright. As long as you know that I am the most good looking person ever, even when I sleep.”

You pick your head up from his chest to give him a pointed look. “What happened to saying I was the most good looking person?”

“You are, I still stand by that. But at the same time, you are dating me, you know.”

“Oh, yeah, because you’re so gorgeous,” you drawl sarcastically.

“I’ll prove it to you.” He whips your phone out from beneath the pillow. If you weren’t so impressed by his sleight of hand, you would’ve scolded him. He attempts to turn it on, but the screen refuses to light up.

You suddenly remember the other reason for coming in here. “Right, I was supposed to charge it.”

Oikawa picks at the bottom of your case in feigned disinterest. “Not that it particularly matters, but, uh…did you manage to get a clear picture of me?”

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consider liking/reblogging if you enjoyed :)

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Into The Unknown, Part 7

First

Sorry the chapter is late my schedule got thrown off by a hurricane

Three days after they arrived in Gotham, they officially ran out of cash.

Honestly, it was a wonder they had even lasted as long as they had. Who knew that rich kids had so much money just laying around? Certainly not her, if she had she probably would have reconsidered rejecting Adrien’s old offers to date to make their fans shut up... because damn.

Now, they sat outside Drake Manor.

Marinette sat, back resting against the gate, playing a game with the baby. In an effort to soothe the kid’s need to fall from high places, she had tossed him a foot in the air and then caught him. Unfortunately, this didn’t seem to help, but it did entertain Damian. He giggled like a madman (mad...baby?) every time she did it and would yell ‘up!’ every time she tried to stop. Her arms were tired. She’d been doing this for what felt like years, and would be doing it for many years to come. Save her.

The only person that could possibly save her was, unfortunately, busy with other things.

Tim was applying for credit cards. He had stuck his computer and phone through the gate to get their wifi so the company wouldn’t be suspicious (Marinette said they probably wouldn’t be but the king of paranoia had insisted) and was now pressed up against it as far as he possibly could, arms poking through the bars to keep working.

“This is only until we have enough money to get on our feet,” Tim said.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Tim, I know.”

He nodded a little against the bars that were pressing against his face and allowed the subject to drop -- for now, Marinette knew it was only a matter of time before he said it again.

“At least one of us needs a job at WE, that’s the only way both of us would be able to send the kid to daycare.”

Marinette stopped tossing Damian, considering, only to immediately start up again when the baby screamed “UP!” at her.

“Probably me,” she said, finally. “The you that lives here is a direct competitor, you might get recognized.”

He nodded his agreement.

And then she sighed and set Damian in her lap because her arms were physically unable to lift him anymore. Damian screamed at her but she just wrapped her arms around him tightly and pet his hair until he relaxed.

When he finally shut up, she said: “You know we’re going to have to wait for both of us to get a job.”

He paused in his typing. “What do you mean?”

“Since it’s WE, they probably have pretty thorough background checks. Two adults that seemingly have lived here their entire lives getting a job at pretty much the exact same time is… more than a little suspicious.”

He pulled his head back from the gate and she wondered idly if he was finally done, but then he just knocked his forehead against the bars. There was a resounding clang that neither of them minded, all of this world’s Drakes were currently at work, and he groaned.

“Yeah, that kind of screams ‘we’re using fake identities’, doesn’t it?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

He groaned again, louder this time.

“I can stay at home,” she offered, somewhat reluctantly. “I can cook.”

He sighed and shook his head as much as the gate would allow. “No. You’re probably going to have an easier time getting a job, WE accepts basically everyone. We need money, so I’ll be a stay-at-home dad.”

Oh.

She smiled a little and looked down at Damian, who was currently petting her hair like she had been petting his just a few moments before. She blinked but reciprocated the action. Damian lit up and reached his hands up so he could get more of her hair.

She leaned down a little and nuzzled her nose against Damian’s.

She glanced up and saw Tim checking over what he had done so far, apparently thinking the conversation over.

Marinette hesitated. If she really wanted, she could just let the conversation drop.

She mumbled a quiet: “... thanks, Tim.”

He didn’t look up from his screen, but she could see the pink tinge in his ears. “It’s fine. I don’t even know what I’d do yet. I’ve only ever had one job and I got it because of nepotism.”

She grinned. “From rich kid to even richer CEO to trophy husband.”

“Oh, how the mighty hath fallen.”

She felt a hand tug her hair and looked down to see Damian pouting, so she started running her fingers through his hair. It was getting kind of long, she wondered if she should get it cut. She didn’t want it to get caught on something, the kid could get hurt.

A thought occurred to her. She glanced at Tim out of the corner of her eyes. “You know… you’re taking my name and I’m going to be the one getting money… maybe you should grow out your hair and I’ll cut mine. Y’know, to really get into our roles.”

He huffed a little. “Shut up.”

She laughed. “Fine. But, really, I think you should grow your hair out. It’d be pretty.”

The both of them tensed at the implications of what she had said. She wondered if she could play it off as a joke… or maybe she should apologize? The blush that had tinged his ears was now creeping down his neck. Was he embarrassed or flustered or angry?

Before she could figure out what to do, Tim’s phone rang.

He fumbled for the phone and pressed it to his ear, successfully hiding the rest of his face from her view.

“Hello?... yes, this is Timothy Drake… yes, I just applied for a new card… I figured I would have a backup in case one of my others got stolen, you know how it is… can I have the card information in advance?... great, thank you!”

He hung up and turned to her, smiling widely.

“We have money.”

She didn’t react how he expected, no playful grin or witty remark or even just a smile. Instead, she doubled over with laughter. Damian whined a little in protest as she threatened to squish him.

He frowned confusedly. “What?”

She motioned vaguely to his face, giggles still spilling from her lips. “It’s just… you’ve been leaning against the gate for so long that it’s made little lines in your face.”

He huffed. “It’s not that funny.”

She managed to get her breathing under control again. “It’s a little funny.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

She opened her mouth to continue the dumb little argument they were having but then Damian yelled: “NO!”

Tim lit up. “HA. He agrees with me.”

She gasped. “Dami, how could you? You’re supposed to be on my side,” she said with an over exaggerated pout.

Damian looked up at her pout for a moment before slowly leaning forward and attempting to wrap his arms around her middle in a hug.

“Oh,” she said softly, carding her fingers through his hair a few times. “Okay, I forgive you.”

“Weak,” Tim teased.

She looked over to send him a glare, but then she saw the fond smile on his face and relaxed.

“I am. Look at him. He’s so cute.”

“Yeah. He is.”

Tim leaned back against the bed frame.

Marinette was out at a job interview for WE. He hoped she got it, he didn’t know what they’d do if she didn’t.

But, he didn’t really have much time to think about that. He was on baby duty.

He’d gotten better at dealing with Damian while doing things, it seemed. He had found a position to sit where one knee was pulled to his chest and the other curled close to him, his legs acting as a chair for the kid. One hand held the kid’s bottle as he drank, and the other scrolled through apartment options on his phone.

They’d probably be in an apartment for at least a while. He didn’t know how homeownership was in this new version of Gotham, but in the old one if you were able to afford a house on your own then you were an immediate target for thieves.

So: apartments.

They could probably get away with a one-roomer, at least while Damian was young. It wasn’t like they needed much room for him, anyway, they might even get rid of the crib since it didn’t look like either of them had the willpower to leave the kid in it all night.

Damian slapped the bottle away, apparently done despite only having drank… all of it. Huh, he must have been more out of it than he’d thought.

He turned off his phone and looked down at the baby. Damian looked back up at him, giving that wide-eyed stare babies were so fond of.

Tim cracked, a smile making its way across his face. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his little brother’s head.

“So, kiddo, what do you want to do?”

Damian babbled at him in an authoritative tone. Tim nodded thoughtfully, as if he understood him and was truly considering the idea of whatever it was he said.

“Interesting idea. I think we should watch TV. Sound good?”

Damian nodded, though Tim really doubted that he had somehow managed to say the exact thing that he had.

He pulled the remote out of the bedside drawer and started flipping through channels, looking for something that was bright and colorful enough for Damian to enjoy it but at least semi-decent so Tim wouldn’t be bored out of his mind.

He came upon Monsters LLC and turned it on. While Tim agreed that, considering the way that Mr. Firenoose acted, the company would totally be an LLC, it just didn’t have the same ring to it as Monsters Inc. So sad. The kids of this world were missing out.

At least Damian seemed to be enjoying it. He gasped and pointed at this world’s version of Sully and yelled “KITTY!”

Before Tim could correct him, though, the knockoff Boo said the same thing.

Great. Well. He supposed the kid was close enough. At least there were no monsters in this world for Damian to mistake for cats. It wouldn’t come back to bite them. Probably.

And, so, that’s how the day went. Tim and Damian sat in bed, Damian leaning back against Tim’s chest and watching his movie, a new bottle of milk half in his mouth. Tim scrolled through apartment options on his phone, picking out a few to check out over the next few days.

After a while, Marinette slipped in. She kicked her shoes off, letting them fly in opposite directions, and then trudged across the room.

She dropped onto the bed face down beside the two boys and Tim frowned.

“I’m guessing that means it didn’t go well?”

“No, I got the job,” she said, her voice muffled. “They said I could start tomorrow if I wanted.”

“... then…?”

She slowly picked her head up. She looked absolutely exhausted. “I’m an intern.”

… yikes.

He hesitantly reached a hand out and patted her head a few times.

She rolled her eyes and pulled a pillow to herself so she could scream into it.

Damian looked away from the movie, eyes wide, and then looked at Tim like he would somehow know how to fix it.

… he probably was supposed to. He was the adult here and, supposedly, married to her.

But Tim was a bat. So, he pulled a classic bat move:

“Want to spar?”

“... kinda,” she admitted. “But what about Damian?”

Damian was currently entranced by a movie about… was that unicorn eating trash?

It didn’t matter. (It totally did. What the fuck was going on in this movie?)

Tim smiled. “I’m sure that Kaalki and Tikki can warn us if something is going to happen. Not that it looks like anything will.”

Marinette hesitated before breaking into a smile. “Okay, let’s do it. I’ve been feeling a little antsy.”

He gently picked up Damian and set him on the bed, telling the kwamis to keep him safe for the maybe ten minutes they would be distracted, and then led Marinette a few feet away so they could let out a little bit of their excess energy.

~~~~~

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

#into the unknown #maribat #timari #timinette #timmari #shutterbug #tim drake #red robin #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug

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winterscaptain · 3 years

Text

tell.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i cannot tell yall how long i have been working on this one, so i'll save it. thanks to @ssaic-jareau for hanging in there with me as i pulled late nights to make this happen over the weekend!! i love you!! i know it's broad daylight for you while im being irresponsible, but i appreciate it nevertheless. let me know what you think, my lovelies! i cherish your thoughts!

words: 7.4k warnings: language, discussion of sex, canon-typical case events

summary: “we are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.” veronica roth, allegiant. au!may 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

It’s always tough to spend time away from home when you aren’t on a case, but a conference kept you from your boys the last couple of days, on Strauss’s request. Aaron was none too happy about it, but as the junior-most agent in the unit (even with five years under your belt), the shitty seminars and professional development events fell on your shoulders.

Even though you landed early in the morning, flying coach all the way back from California, there was a whole day with Jack waiting for you and Aaron upon your return. A rare Saturday - no case, no paperwork, just family.

You knock on the door with a knuckle, unable to reach your keys around your bags and breakfast.

Aaron opens the door with a “Hey!” coated in laughter, kissing your cheek. He’s still in his pajamas.

You squint at him. “Am I early?”

He snorts. “Never. We’re running late.” He takes the takeout bags and coffee from your hands. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“Of course. I wanted -”

Jack runs across the apartment and slams into you full force. “You’re home!”

You curl around him, your hands on his head and shoulder as he cuddles into you. “I am! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

His voice is muffled by your shirt and it makes you smile. You glance at Aaron over Jack’s head to find a smile.

“Come look at our fort!” Jack, wearing a blanket cape, takes you by the hand and brings you into the dining room, where the dining room table has been turned into a massive fort fit for a king.

Or, rather, two kings.

“Oh my goodness, Jack. This is incredible, little bug. Your architectural prowess knows no bounds.” You look up at Aaron from your place on the floor. “Where’s your cape?”

His deadpan, as usual, never fails to make you laugh. “Uh, I’m wearing it.”

Jack continues to drag you all the way under the table until you’re laying on your bellies in the little slap-dash shelter.

Aaron flops down on the floor on the other side of Jack. “We slept in here all night.”

“Really? That sounds like so much fun.”

What you mean is, What, with your bad back?

“Mmhmm,” he replies, only to really say -

Yep. I feel like shit.

“Can we sleep in here again tonight, Dad?” Jack asks, turning to Aaron. “All together?”

You exchange a glance with Aaron, who laughs.

So much for grown-up plans...

+++

You’re both scrambling to get ready for the bike ride across the mall and day at the Smithsonian when the phone call comes in.

“Hotchner,” Aaron says, still at the counter, tucking his phone under his chin as he finishes packing the rest of the picnic basket.

He freezes, hastily bagging some carrots and putting them in the basket before holding the phone in his hand and leaning heavily against the counter. “You’re kidding.”

That’s not a good tone.

Jack looks up at you, and you rest your hands on his chest over his shoulders, backing him into you as you watch Aaron with your lip between your teeth.

“Did they raise the terror alert?”

Shit.

“Okay. That’s for the best. Um…” He checks his watch. “I’ll get down there now. Yeah….Do you need the rest -”

With a huff, he meets your eyes and nods.

You let out a sigh and kiss Jack’s head. He knows the drill and runs off for your phone, still charging in the bedroom.

“Understood, ma’am. I’ll be there first. We gotta get Jack squared away but I’ll get going while -” He pauses, probably interrupted by Strauss again. “Thank you...Yes...I’ll be there as soon as I can and the rest of the team will meet at the scene.”

You know that also means you. You also can’t ignore the prick of anxiety that shoots through your belly, knowing he’ll likely be in danger without you for at least a half-hour.

Jack returns with your phone, Jessica already on the line.

+++

Aaron, of course, leaves right away while you wait for Jess.

You sit on the couch with Jack. “I’m so sorry, buddy. We’ll have to do a big day, just the three of us, another time.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s okay. Sometimes you just gotta catch the bad guys.”

The offhand nature of his understanding strikes you as instantly hilarious, and he laughs with you when you double over, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Yeah. Sometimes you just do, kiddo.”

+++

When you finally arrive at the scene, Dave’s already set up hostage negotiation. You cross the street, finding Will and JJ huddled with Emily and Derek.

“You okay?” You ask, placing your hand on Will’s shoulder. He’s not just JJ’s not-husband. He’s your friend, too, all on his own.

“Yeah, jus’ fine.” He shakes his head. “Jus’ a little rattled, is all.”

“Understandable.”

His mouth presses into a thin line as he exhales. “Thanks.” He checks his watch. “Y’all should get on back. I think Strauss just showed up.”

JJ kisses his cheek and trots off to meet the rest of the unit. After another hug for Will, you follow suit.

+++

“The media's calling them the Face Cards. Seven bank robberies in seven months. They've killed one person at each robbery.” Aaron leads the rest of you to the trailer, where the monitors are all set up.

Dave furrows his brow. “M. O.?”

“Single gunshot wound. Each of the victims has bled out.”

That doesn’t make much sense.

You jump in. “Serial killers with a 30-day cooling-off period and we're only just hearing about this now?”

“Well, headquarters has always characterized them robbers first and killers second,” Aaron replies, glancing back at you. You roll your eyes.

Of course they did.

“No one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies,” Spencer notes. He’s more than right, and you thought the same thing - it’s almost like he took the words out of your mouth.

“I disagreed with the original assessment. I was overruled.” Aaron’s bland version of frustration is clear in his tone, but he knows, just as you do, that ship has sailed. All you can do now is handle what’s in front of you.

“So why are we here now?” Dave asks.

“Because crisis negotiation is overseas.”

Aaron starts to walk again as JJ asks after more information. Aaron usually rattles it off pretty quickly, but with the quick start this morning, you know he trusts the rest of you to ask the questions you need. “What more do we know about them?

“They're organized, they're efficient. Each strike lasts about two minutes.”

Derek, walking beside you, finally joins the conversation. “They gotta be scouting the banks in advance. Why haven't we been able to identify them off of surveillance footage?”

“They hack the security feed and turn off the cameras, both during the initial canvass and during the robbery, until the masks come back on, and then we're allowed to watch.” Aaron leads you all into the tactical staging truck, watching the security feeds.

+++

As you continue to watch, the scene becomes clearer, the power dynamics more tangible.

Dave sees it, too. “They're using the hostages as human shields.”

JJ, with Will beside her, studies the footage, watching the Queen run around while the King finds himself preoccupied with the Jack’s wound. “This is the first time they've been interrupted. What went wrong?”

“It's a big bank,” Emily says. “It's possible they weren't about to round everybody up before someone triggered an alarm.”

That’s a fair point, but you ask your question anyway. “Why haven't they cut the feed now that they've been cornered?”

Derek, still beside you, answers. “Letting us see inside gives up a tactical advantage. They gotta know that.”

They don't seem to care,” Aaron says, from your other side.

You’re all silent for another minute, watching to see what happens next. Even though their plans went awry, the team still looks fairly calm and collected, all things considered.

JJ’s frown only deepens. “They're overconfident. Arrogant, even.”

“The face card masks add to their narcissism.” Spencer’s voice comes from the end of the line. “Their personas are the royalty of poker.”

You nod - it’s a great point - while Aaron starts making assignments.

“JJ, Reid, and Prentiss, look at past robberies. That's gonna be our victimology. Pull another analyst if you need to.” He turns to you, then Dave, on his other side. “I want you two to handle negotiations. And, Morgan, strategize tactical options with MPD.”

You shuffle, gathering your radio and earpiece from the charger next to Penelope’s computer.

When the rest of the team leaves, you hang back with Dave, keying into the radio channels and standing by for further instruction - you know there’s more for you in the trailer at the moment.

Further instruction, though, may have to wait. Strauss climbs the steps into the rig and Aaron greets her. “Chief Strauss.”

“The Director ordered me to supervise your operation.”

Of course he did.

“Puts you right in the spotlight,” Dave says, not unkindly. It’s almost fond.

You can’t help but hold back a little bit of a smile. If the situation were reversed and it was Aaron at the helm, you’d be proud of him, too.

“Well, you've got gunmen with hostages in the Capital. The Hill's concerned.”

Aaron nods, gesturing to you and Dave. “We're about to open lines of communication.”

“What about a tactical assault?”

The three of you shake your heads as Aaron responds. “I don't think it's a good idea. There are hostages in front of the doors and windows.”

Erin, finally onboard, turns to Dave. “What's your negotiation strategy?”

“The Jack's bleeding out. They'll ask for medical attention.”

You hum, a little skeptical, and look back at the feed. “The female unsub might have something to say about that. Look at her body language.”

Dave follows your gaze. “She is cold and detached. The King seems genuinely concerned about his partner's welfare. But she couldn't give a damn.”

Your eyebrows raise. “The men probably know each other.”

Aaron, picking up on your train of thought, flags Penelope, “Garcia?”

She turns in her chair, already typing. “Shuffling my techno-fabulous deck of databases, sir.”

And so it begins.

+++

“I’ll do the talking - I’ll need to establish some rapport with them, but I’ll need you keeping the team updated and coordinating any allowances or personnel as things come up, okay?”

You nod, a little smile pulling at the side of your mouth. “You got it.”

Dave claps your shoulder. “You’ll be in this chair one day, so pay attention.”

“Yes, sir.”

He dials in and the phone starts ringing through the speaker. You’ll be able to hear everything.

“Who the hell's this?” You check the monitor. The King picked up the phone.

Obviously, the Jack can’t pick up the phone, stupid, he’s bleeding out!

“My name is David Rossi. I'm with the FBI. To whom am I speaking?”

The King doesn’t address the question, but rather looks back toward his fallen compatriot. “All right, I want a doctor sent in, and then I want out of here.”

Dave checks his watch. “Well, we certainly can discuss that. Let the hostages go and we'll give you all the medical help you need.”

You take a mental note. Your memories from Dave’s lectures at the academy are fuzzy at best, and you haven’t had very much time handling these things in the field. The last time a major hostage crisis was at hand, you were a hostage yourself.

A shot hostage, if the chronic nerve pain in your shoulder is any reminder.

“I can't do that. I need the leverage.”

“How about a sign of good faith? Send out the women and children and I'll see what I can do.”

You watch as the King takes the phone away from his mouth. You can vaguely hear him update the Queen, but she’s not having it. She pulls a child from the lineup and your lower lip disappears between your teeth.

A man, you presume the girl’s father, speaks to the Queen before she shoots him in the abdomen. The King gets back on the line.

“You better send in some more help or more people are gonna die.” He hangs up.

Shit.

+++

“You’re not seriously considering sending an agent in there?” You turn on Hotch and he sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“We don’t have much of a choice. I’m not the authority on-site and with the director pressing Strauss, there’s not much I can do.”

The two of you are alone for the time being, so you’re able to rib him for a second to lighten the tension.

“What’s the point of being unit chief if you can’t lord it over everyone all the time?”

You're rewarded with a shadow of a smile and a snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I lord it over you plenty.”

“Not enough.” Your tone is childish, the words murmured under your breath.

When he walks away, he taps the side of your ass with the back of his hand. If you weren’t in a professional setting, you could mistake it for a promise.

But, Aaron, that would be unprofessional!

You turn to look at him and just catch his wink as he hops up the steps behind Strauss.

+++

With Garcia’s magic and Aaron’s genius, you figure out that the men are related.

While Rossi hops on the next phone call, you help Derek outfit the medic with a bug and a weapon.

“We're sending in the medic now, Chris. Tell Oliver help is on the way.”

Derek nods at the medic and he hops off, heading into the bank. You jog over to the trailer only to find a humorously horrified look on Strauss’s face.

“Is she…”

You get closer, looking up at the monitor.

“...putting on lipstick?”

You scoff. “She’s vain. Only contributes to a profile of vanity and narcissism. She likes to be seen - this is a game for her.”

You jog back out before Strauss can respond, taking your place between Aaron and Derek.

“Green. You gotta go. Green. Go,” Derek says into his mic.

The agent-turned-medic makes a move and immediately gets a shot between the eyes for his trouble. Your hand files over your mouth and Derek ducks away, taking a second.

Well, that couldn’t have been any worse.

You look at Aaron, still staring at the screen, beside you. He’s thinking the same thing.

+++

Derek walks up to you, kevlar and sunglasses firmly in place. “Tactical's been deployed, snipers are moving into position.”

At your questioning look, Strauss clarifies. “The Director's ordered a full tactical assault.”

The look doesn’t leave your face. “His last orders cost us an agent.”

Radio transmissions fly one ear and out the other, not to mention the flurry of activity around the negotiation tent. Before Strauss can reply, Will’s call shoots past you to Aaron.

“SWAT's getting itchy fingers.”

Aaron turns, covering his comm mic at his chest. “You remind SWAT that bank robberies are federal jurisdiction. No one fires until they're ordered to.”

“Right.”

Will disappears and you suppress a little pleased shudder. Aaron’s very much in control now and it is doing things to your body that are better suited for, well, anywhere else. You tighten the velcro across your chest as if to compress another rush of… nothing useful.

Aaron turns back to you, Dave, Derek, and Strauss. “All right, when the crossfire starts, what's gonna happen to the hostages caught in the middle?”

The question is a trap, and Dave doubles down. “That's the wrong call, Erin, and you know it.”

Strauss falters for a minute, leveling with the rest of you. “It's not my call.”

Aaron doesn’t let up. “You're here and you're in charge.” His tone is sharper than yours would be in the same situation, but you’re nearly fifteen years younger and a whole four steps down on the totem pole.

Not for the first time, a rush of affection and gratitude for him crests over your in a wave and you have to look away, taking a deep breath to collect yourself. When you look back, he’s watching you.

I’m okay.

He nods as Erin speaks again.

“So you want me to disobey the Director?” Erin sounds dubious, at best.

Dave responds quickly. “Yes.”

Aaron amends, and if the situation wasn’t so tense his correction would almost be funny. “No. I just want you to buy us a little time.” He pauses, wavering for a second as he rephrases. “Don't be quite so efficient.”

You’re never surprised by Aaron’s political savvy, but it is a nice reminder that he can run circles around every bureaucrat in the district if given the chance.

“Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast.”

+++

“It’s an impossible ask, Dave. You know JJ will never go for it.”

“It’s not up to JJ.” Aaron’s voice approaches from behind you. “It’s the director’s call, but mine first.”

He comes to rest beside you as Dave leaves the two of you alone.

“What are you gonna do?” You look at Aaron, finding his eyes trained on the monitor, arms crossed over his chest.

He sighs. “If it was you he asked for...”

You bump his shoulder. “What, not interested in feeding me to serial killers today?”

It’s a loaded joke, especially for the two of you, but after Emily, you’re past such things. If the situation were reversed, Haley would never stop giving you hell for getting serial-killed the way she did. It’s only fair to return the favor.

“Over my dead body, baby.” He reaches down to squeeze your hand for a second before letting you go. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Stay here.”

+++

You can hear JJ’s anguished shouts from here, beside Dave and the phone.

Derek has a good enough hold on her, Emily and Aaron protecting him from JJ’s wild elbows. She’s beside herself but eventually breaks free and sprints back toward the trailer. You turn to follow her, just in time to hear a gunshot.

Will.

+++

You’re all gathered in the trailer as JJ asks the same questions over and over again. Garcia, just like the first time, doesn’t have any answers.

The static on the monitors is nearly deafening in its silence.

JJ looks at you for a moment and takes a shaky breath before looking at Hotch. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her voice is broken when she speaks. “Aaron.”

You know he’s never been able to deny her anything. In the entire time you’ve known him, it’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed.

His eyes don’t budge from hers. “We’re going in.”

+++

You press the heels of your hands to your eyes, trying to stem the stinging from the heat and debris. Your ears ring and you’ve got a scrape on your chin from where you face-planted into the asphalt.

Eventually, you remove your hands and open your eyes to the early summer sunshine. Your bias is clear enough - Aaron’s the first one you look for and the first one you find.

He’s looking a little dazed and more than a little ruffled, but alive.

Ignoring the whine in your ears and swiping some blood off your face, you jog over to him, taking stock of him from head to toe. “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and you realize he probably can’t hear you. An image of Kate reaching for you and the smell of blood flashes into your head, but you push it away.

His ear…

“Aaron?” You lay a hand on his shoulder and he startles a little, meeting your eyes and coming back to himself all at once.

He puts his hands on your shoulders, tipping your jaw up with one finger to examine your chin. “You’re hurt.”

“Honey, I’m fine. Your ear…” You follow a small trickle of blood up the side of his neck, rounding him to get a better look. Just as you’d feared, his bad ear is bleeding again.

He waves off your concern and taps his comm mic, calling for support in quick, clear soundbites. You snag the back of his vest before he can get too far away from you.

“As soon as you’re done with that, please get it looked at.”

With a sigh, he nods and gestures to your chin. “I will if you do.”

You roll your eyes.

“Where’s Emily?” You hear Morgan ask JJ as they get their bearings around you.

With a start, you follow them into the building, attached to a couple of SWAT agents. You know Aaron will get after you for going in before everything’s cleared by bomb squad, but you can’t keep still.

The heartache you feel for JJ supersedes anything else going on in your head. It’s something that plagues you all the time - the both of you doing this job. Losing Aaron in the field is a stark reality you can hardly consider at any point, especially when evidence of its reality is right in front of you.

+++

Aaron can’t help himself - he pulls you close after you’re both released by the paramedics, pressing a kiss to your head. It’s almost desperate as he leans back and pulls your collar from your vest, his hands smoothing over your shoulders.

“I need to debrief SWAT and first responders - can you stay with Dave and help with the media?”

“Okay. Let me know if you need any extra hands - I’ll send ‘em right over.”

He smiles at you, soft, small, and affectionate. “Thank you.”

+++

You pull your phone from your pocket.

She picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Jess.”

“Hey.” She pauses. “You okay?”

With a shaky sigh, you reply. “Yeah. I’m fine. Aaron’s fine.”

“I heard about the explosion. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, we’re fine. Just...Just stay out of the city.” After another breath. “Is Jack okay?”

She laughs a little. “Yeah. He’s fine. He’s a little anxious but I turned off the TV and we’re headed out to the park for a little while.”

“Good.” You look over at Aaron, who holds your eyes for a second before returning to his EMS strategy huddle.

“Be safe and come home to us soon, okay?”

“Yeah. We will. We love you. Tell Jack we -”

“ - Of course.”

+++

You follow Spencer through the debris once you’re done handling the media storm with Dave. Picking through the rubble, searching for something - anything - but not finding much.

Derek’s voice echoes through the ruined, cavernous space that used to be the main lobby. “Everything they've said and done was for a reason. But what doesn't make any sense is she switched the negotiation demand. Chris wanted to go to Switzerland. She changed it to Chad.”

“They also requested a private plane,” you note, “but no mention of a pilot.”

Spencer stops, and you almost run into him. Emily stops as well, looking back at the pair of you as Spencer organizes his thoughts. When he’s ready to speak, he says, “Guys, if you think about it, even the dates mean something. In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And now this in 2012.”

Good thought. But then again, when is one of Spencer’s thoughts bad?

It’s a decent enough question, and you run the gamut of all the surprising and absurd things Spencer’s said in your presence over the years. One in particular comes to mind.

Evil twin, eviler twin.

You hold back a little laugh, despite the harrowing circumstances.

Yeah, that one was pretty bad.

“Okay.” Derek grabs your attention again. “So, is it a coincidence that those are all election years and they attacked D.C.? Maybe this is a political statement.”

Emily’s eyes are stuck on something on the ground, but you’re not sure if it’s what she’s really looking at. “No. It's more personal than that. It's their story.”

Derek’s brow pinches. “What?”

“All of the details are a part of their story.”

She starts to leave through one of the shattered windows and you follow her back to the trailer, Spencer and Derek not far behind. She hops up the steps and you take your place beside Aaron once you’re all inside. It’s much cozier in here, with eight of you.

Spencer fills the rest of the team in on your conversation inside. Unsurprisingly, it’s rote - read like a cold script.

Emily picks up when he’s done. “Their timeline suggests they were both destructive before they met.”

“So we're talking about ex-military turning on their country.” Strauss looks and sounds skeptical, but you can’t blame her. In American culture, it’s rather incongruous.

Now who sounds like Spencer?

“It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised no matter what the nationality. And if he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them.”

“So you're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08.” Aaron’s voice isn’t skeptical - more probing. You can see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” Spencer says. “And one or both of them are pilots.”

“So if Garcia concentrates on that region,” Emily points to an area on a map, lit up on the monitor, “specifically weapons running in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find their paths crossed.”

Penelope types furiously for a moment, her fingers flying over the keys. “Okay, multiple entries into Libya for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name.”

“Well, because she had aliases. It's the only way to stay a ghost.”

Looks like Emily’s Interpol knowledge is coming in handy.

She continues. “Here's the thing - they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe of them, they will celebrate themselves and their connection.” She turns to Penelope, a thought sparking behind her eyes. “Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?”

“Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss.” Penelope types for a moment and you lean forward, watching her work. “But this news is not. Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08.”

Aaron speaks from beside you. He’s a little closer than you thought, and it startles you a little.

In fairness, you’re still jumpy from the explosion.

“Where were the most casualties?”

“At a church-- no, no, a train. Yep.”

Morgan squints at the photos of the hulled-out building. “Semtex and C-4?”

Penelope nods while Aaron turns toward Strauss. “Are trains still arriving at Union Station?”

“Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in.” There’s a moment where she almost looks panicked, but collects herself as the rest of you gear up to leave.

Emily exhales down her nose. “That’s why they needed Will.”

+++

Aaron drives impossibly fast through the district. You sit in the back seat with Emily, holding onto the handles above the door for dear life.

You’ve never flashed your badge so many times in such a short period. Aaron tucked his badge into a strap of his vest, just to save time, but still has his credentials locked between his fingers as he drives. If you didn’t trust him so much, it would freak you out a little.

+++

The comm in your ear crackles as Emily speaks. “I found Will.”

“Is he mobile?” Aaron’s voice comes both from beside you and your comm - it’s a little disorienting, but you push through.

“Negative. He's got 6 transmitters on him and this whole place is gonna blow.”

There’s hardly a hesitation in Aaron’s steps as he processes the information. “All right, where are you? I'm on my way.”

He’d like to think he’s made of steel.

Sometimes he is.

“No,” Emily asserts. “You gotta get everyone out. Is the bomb squad here yet?”

“They're 3 minutes away.”

“Copy.” She sounds a little disappointed, or maybe frustrated, but doesn’t say anything else.

He turns back to you, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you leading evacuation. Get out of here.”

Tears prick at your eyes and honestly, this is the first moment you’ve really been afraid. Existentially afraid. Afraid of walking out of this train station and leaving Aaron and Emily and Will to blow up. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yep. Go.” He tries to push you away, but you resist.

“Promise?”

His brown eyes soften as his mouth presses into a thin line. “Can’t. I love you. Get outta here.”

You bounce on your toes for a second, acutely aware you’re wasting valuable time, before yanking him forward to kiss his cheek before you sprint away from him, shouting instructions to the panicked crowd as you go.

+++

You catch up with Derek, racing to catch your suspect. He corners him in an alley but can’t quite overpower him. You reach for your sidearm, but by the time you take aim, Downs is already on the ground, a gunshot ringing through the air.

Startled, you turn over your shoulder to find Aaron still staring down the sight of his Glock.

Could take an eye out, with that thing.

You sigh and holster your weapon. Derek looks plenty dazed and you don’t blame him. It’s not often he’s on the receiving end of a near-miss in close combat. He looks over your shoulder and you can see something pass between him and Aaron.

Maybe one day, Derek will know how much Aaron loves and respects him.

You watch Derek shake it off and stumble as he attempts to rise to his feet.

Today is not that day.

Coming to your senses, you trot forward and help him to his feet, brushing wayward asphalt off of him. You turn back to Aaron. “Everything alright?”

He ignores you, pressing the mic at his chest as he begins to run back toward the station. “Prentiss, what’s your status?”

+++

Seeing Will and Emily leave the building in one piece is a relief. You meet Aaron’s gaze and his eyes are exhausted. The gears in his head still whir. He’s still in game-mode, and it’s a good thing.

With the logistical nightmare of two bomb threats in one day, there’s a lot of work ahead of you.

+++

You swing back and forth in your desk chair, brain completely numb from the paperwork. It’s been a long day, and you’ve been up since three this morning, what with your flight back from California. You’re certain you’ve had longer days than this one, but you’re approaching twenty-one hours without sleep and it feels worse than you remember.

What were we planning to do today?

A bike ride and museum day with Jack seems impossibly long ago. Last week, maybe.

Derek and Emily sit on their desks, attempting to keep a conversation going without much luck.

They were house-hunting this morning.

Penelope slowly descends the stairs as Spencer turns in his seat. “The convention’s still happening tomorrow if you want to go.”

They were at a convention this morning.

Everyone had lives this morning. Weird.

She makes an uncertain noise. “That whole city-on-the-brink-of-destruction thing kinda took the wind out of my sails, you know?”

You look up at her as she takes her place beside Spencer. “It’ll get you every time.”

“You gotta watch out for that,” Emily adds. It makes you smile a little.

Derek looks a little less amused, reminding Emily they’ll have to finish the inspection another time. Between Spencer and Penelope, Emily cops to a crack in the foundation of her almost-home.

“That does not sound good,” Penelope says. You can’t help but agree.

There’s a weird look on Derek’s face, but you ignore it in favor of Strauss’s descent on the stairs.

“Our unsub,” she says, “is Izzy Rogers. She'll be charged with multiple counts domestically, and our international counterparts will have their turn with her. She will never see the light of day.” A little smile graces her lips.

You realize with the tiniest of laughs (really - it’s a one on the Aaron Hotchner scale of laugher, which means it’s hardly noticeable to the naked eye) that you don’t hate her or even dislike her as much as you used to. Maybe, you even want her around.

Don’t push it.

“I just thought you'd like to know that.”

The five of you murmur something that sounds like, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pulls Derek, probably to kick his ass for something or another and send herself back on your shit list.

That’s a problem for another time.

You take Izzy Rogers’s file from Emily, looking over an impressive rap sheet. You’re happy for a few things.

The first - that Aaron’s not a federal prosecutor anymore. This’ll be a case for the ages.

The second - you’ll never have to think about her again.

The third - you’re not sure. You’re sleep-deprived. It’ll come to you.

She cost me my precious eight hours and I’ll never forgive her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aaron leave his office. You set the file down and look up at him, halfway-hoping for once he’ll tell you to go home without him.

“Dave wants to know if everyone is free tomorrow night.”

Without any inflection at all, you reply. “We better not be doing anything tomorrow night.”

“Well,” Derek says, interrupting Emily’s snort. “If he’s buying, then I’m definitely in.”

Emily, Spencer, and Penelope jump onto Derek’s conditional acceptance and a rare smile pulls at Aaron’s face, his dimples on full display.

“Hear that? We’re in.”

+++

When you get home, Aaron all-but carries you to bed. With the tenderest of hands, he removes your shoes and socks, unbuttons your pants, slides them down your legs, and throws them in the laundry basket.

You’re practically wilting where you sit, feeling more and more like a sleepy toddler by the minute.

Aaron unbuttons your shirt and slips it off your shoulders, kissing each cheek in turn. “I’ll start a shower.”

You move to protest, but he strips and that mostly shuts you up. He starts the water before he returns to your side.

“I just want to sleep, Aar. Please.”

“Baby,” he says, a fond little pleading note in his tone. “We just changed the sheets. Do you really want to get semtex all over them?”

With a huff - “No.”

He smiles and helps you to your feet. “Didn’t think so.”

You’re so tired, it doesn't even cross your mind to take advantage of the shared shower or his lack of clothes. By the time he dries you off, tucks you in, and locks the bedroom door to ward off the over-eager six-year-old down the hall, you’re asleep.

His own exhaustion pulling at him, he doesn’t have the time or energy to cherish how peaceful, safe, and warm you look. He just draws you close to him until he can feel your heartbeat.

Sleep takes him rapidly after that.

+++

As Will and JJ exchange their vows, you tuck further into Aaron’s arms. His whisper floats past your ear, barely audible. “Wanna do that sometime?”

“What? Get married?” Your voice is just as quiet.

“Mhmm.”

“Only if it’s you.”

There’s a kiss pressed to your temple with a smile behind it. “I think I can make that happen.”

You turn your head to the side to keep your snark from carrying. “Please don’t propose to me right now. This weekend’s been long enough.”

Derek kicks the side of your foot from where he stands beside you, unable to hear the conversation but knowing you both well enough to keep you from tumbling down the rabbit hole of distraction.

Aaron presses another kiss to your temple. “I love you.” You feel it rather than hear it.

You pick up one of his hands and kiss the back of it. You don’t need to say anything.

+++

Aaron holds you close as you dance together, surrounded by your family. JJ and Will sway back and forth nearby, wrapped entirely in each other. Erin and Dave have been surprisingly brave, dancing and laughing quietly together throughout the evening.

As nice as it was to just have something for the two of you, sharing your love with your family has its own set of perks. You don’t have to hide anymore or justify your pigheaded protection of the other.

You can just… be.

+++

Eventually, Dave calls all the “...fortunately unmarried individuals to the dance floor,” and refuses to let anyone slip through the cracks.

When Aaron hangs back, drink in-hand and a little smile on his face, Dave calls him out. “Divorcés and widowers, too, c’mon.” He pauses, finding another tactic when Aaron doesn’t move. “If you’re both, you get extra points!”

Aaron rolls his eyes and you look around, finding an inappropriate amount of humor in JJ’s confused relatives. You can’t help but bark a loud laugh when you see how hard Derek’s trying to keep his mirth at bay.

Too soon for the dead wife jokes? He seems to ask. Can I laugh?

Something in your eyes gives him tacit permission and he nearly blinds you with his smile.

When Dave’s tricks fall short, you do your best to pull Aaron from the sideline with your best set of bedroom eyes. He courageously resists, so you give up and settle next to Anderson. “What do you think Dave’s come up with, this time?”

“God only knows.”

Anderson, like the rest of you, knows that Dave’s hosting abilities know no bounds.

“Because so many of you are joyfully unmarried, the newlyweds wanted to make sure there was someone else to suffer the slings and arrows of matrimony with them in the near future. Thus,” he opens his arm to JJ, who appears with her bouquet and a smile, “the bouquet toss will be an equal-opportunity event.”

With a laugh and a shake of your head, you prepare to duck out of the way.

You look over at Aaron. This is ridiculous.

He only shakes his head, hiding his smile behind his drink. And yet…

He leaves the rest of the implication unsaid, but you flip him off for good measure. Your exchange must have taken longer than you thought because before you know it, you have a face full of white roses. It’s over.

You pull the flowers from your face and level JJ with a glare across the dance floor. “Really?”

She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “I turned my back and everything.”

There are whoops and hollers from your team and you can only roll your eyes. Derek and Will strong-arm Aaron onto the dance floor (you know he let them - if he really wanted to avoid you, they wouldn’t be able to move him an inch), where you’re both cajoled into a kiss and a photo. Penelope’s on the other side of the camera, grinning from ear to ear.

She waves at Aaron over the camera. “Smile for real, damn you!”

She amends, adding, “Sir,” for good measure. It has its intended effect and she’s rewarded with a rare, bright laugh from her unit chief.

Absurd traditions aside, you’d be lying if said you stopped smiling even once.

+++

As the party settles, some couples stay out on the dance floor, sedately twirling and swaying to the music that continues to play across the yard.

You and Aaron have relaxed significantly since the Great Bouquet Debacle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. You’re sitting across his lap, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, with one of his arms wrapped around your middle and the other draped over your knees - the picture of relaxation.

Penelope, Derek, Emily, and Will have taken up residence on the other side of the dance floor, their heads close together and voices low.

Aaron’s eyes slide over them as he watches the room, scanning out of habit. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

You lean further into him as four pairs of eyes flicker over to you before returning to their huddle. “Us, probably.”

He hums, understanding and pensive. “Probably our sex life, right?”

“Probably,” you sigh, playing at boredom. He covers your hand with one of his and you play with his fingers - lacing, unlacing, kissing his knuckles.

It’s nice to feel safe, comfortable enough to love each other where curious eyes can see you.

You can feel his smile against your forehead as he presses a kiss between your brows.

“I mean,” you continue, “there is a lot to talk about.”

He shrugs, adjusting his arm where it lays across your legs to keep you both comfortable in the seat you share. “That’s true enough. Though, I can’t imagine any of their projections being right.”

+++

“I bet they’re into like…tantric sex. Like hours and hours and hours you know?” Penelope says, conspiracy the top note in her tone.

Derek looks at her and she backtracks, only a little on the defensive.

“What? Spencer’s talked to me about it before and I...read.”

He rolls his eyes, but Emily spares Penelope from any further interrogation.

“I could see that.” She watches the way your fingers wander over Aaron’s bare forearm, playing with the ridges of his watch, the way his thumb absent-mindedly draws small circles on your outer thigh. “Yeah, actually I think that’s exactly what happens.”

+++

“What do you think they’ve got so far?”

He plays at boredom. “They’re probably trying to take a guess at anything they can reach - with both of our profiles in Derek’s pocket, he’s going to have the most luck, I think.”

“Really?” You ask. “Not Emily?”

He snorts. “No. She has her mind on other things.”

That holds you up for a second, and you’re not sure if he’s still playing into the bit. “Wait, what do you mean?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later.”

“She’s resigning, isn’t she?” You give up the fun and lay your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

Without thinking, his hand rises to your cheek, affectionately brushing over your cheekbone before dropping back down. “She might be.”

“Did she do that thing where she sighs really big and then looks off to the upper right middle distance?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, just enjoying the low lull of the music and the lights and the sights and smiles of your family.

“Hey.”

You lean back a little and meet Aaron’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“What’s my tell?”

The concern drops out of your face all at once. “You think I’m gonna spill just like that so you can go and change it on me? Not a chance.”

He sighs and his chin tips up in defeat. “So I have one?”

“Of course you do, stupid.” You flick his chest and a laugh rumbles through him. “Everyone does. You know mine, I know yours. You’re gonna have to get over it.”

“So you’ve caught me in lies before?” He asks, not without humor.

“Duh. I’m pretty sure I’ve caught every lie you’ve ever told, but you seemed so proud of yourself that I just let you have it.”

You can almost feel the eye roll. “Really?” He sounds skeptical. “Name one lie you’ve caught me in.”

“Alright.” You count off on your fingers. “You dinged my car door a couple of weeks ago, you definitely didn’t drop the bags at Goodwill, you do know it wasn’t Jack who finished the ice cream in the freezer, you -”

“Okay.” He covers your hands with his and kisses your fingers. “That’s enough. I get it.”

You kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ve caught me in every single lie I’ve ever told, too, huh?”

“Only every once since the day we met. Yours is obvious.”

It’s a trap. You don’t take it. “Hmm. That’s convenient.”

“Isn’t it?”

You lean back to look at him. “You’re a shit, you know that?”

He nods and raises his eyebrows, a cheeky, close-mouthed smile slowly creeping across his face.

You playfully smack his chest with the back of your hand. “Fucker.”

He says something under his breath and you level him with a look that has him repeating himself.

“I said, you wish.”

You roll your eyes and tuck back into his neck, kissing the skin above his collar. You can feel him shiver and you know you’ve got him. “Not just wish, honey. Know.”

+++

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mandoalorian · 4 years

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Touch Starved [Frankie Morales x Reader]

Summary: You and your best friend Frankie Morales have had silent feelings for each other since the day you met. No one could’ve ever guessed the strange circumstance which occurred one fateful night, and how the proceeding events would be the push you needed to take your friendship to the next level.

Word count: 6k (what the heck this is the longest piece i’ve ever written BY FAR)

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT, thigh riding, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol consumption/intoxication, food/drink mention, lot of pining over each other and just some general fluff

Author’s Note: This is my first ever Frankie fic anddddd my first ever smut lol. Please be kind I hope you enjoy. PS if you want a part two let me know! xx

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•••

Your eyes were heavy and you shuffled into the cushion, adjusting your position on the couch until you felt more comfortable. You grazed your fingers against the pages of your book, but found yourself re-reading the same sentence over and over again in attempt to keep yourself awake. Even your two scented candles were close to burning out, and you figured it was time for bed.

Gently dropping the book on the floor, you closed your eyes and felt yourself drift off into a dreamy sleep when a loud bang on your door woke you up with a jolt. Your heart was pounding as you bolted upright, clutching the thin wooled blanket that was lazily draped around your body in fear. Within seconds, you heard another bang on the door. Rubbing your eyes, you flicked on your phone and checked the time. 11-48pm. Almost midnight. You groaned, standing up and padding to the front door of your apartment. Who could possibly want to see you at this hour? You wondered. Not even bothering to check through the peephole, you let out an elongated groan.

“Who is it?” You called out and rubbed your tired eyes. You ran your fingers through your hair in hope that you would look somewhat presentable for when you greeted your uninvited visitor.

Without hesitation you heard him. A voice you were so familiar with. “It’s Frankie, man! You gotta let me in!” you noted that his voice sounded urged and your stomach filled with concern. Was he alright? Why was he at your apartment at 11-48pm? A million thoughts raced through your mind in just the second it took you to open the door. The thought of Frankie being here made you nervous, but excited. In a fluster, you stumbled with the door lock before finally managing to get it open.

There he was. His dark brown waves were tucked into one of his infamous baseball caps and he was wearing a dark green flannel and a washed out pair of denim jeans. You tried to search for answers in his face, but he truly seemed fine, other than the slight panic in his voice. He slid past you, allowing himself into your apartment and began pacing around.

“Would you like a drink?” You asked, almost rhetorically. Frankie didn’t answer, nor did he need to. You were already clicking open the bottle of ice cold Bud and handing it over to him. He took a big sip out of the alcoholic beverage, and you took the liberty of admiring him as he done so. He wasn’t watching you anyway, but instead focusing on downing the drink. That's what he needed. A drink to wash away his worries. How could he ever explain this to you?

You loved the way his chocolate brown eyes shone under the candlelight and the way his skin looked almost soft and golden. You waited patiently for him to finish drinking, never wanting to hurry him.

Frankie appreciated the atmosphere of your apartment too. He always had. It made a change from his current living situation. Frankie wasn’t picky as such, but living with his four best guy friends definitely had its downfalls. Whether that be Ben constantly hogging the living room television to play his Call of Duty video games, or Santiago bringing home a different lady every other night, making such noise that nobody but Will could sleep, or even Tom with his untidy behaviour and complete disregard for everyone else who lived with him. It wasn't great but what other choice did Frankie have? Other than you. You didn’t feel like a choice to him, you felt like a necessity. He needed you. You were his safe place, and your chic apartment felt more like home than his shabby downtown place.

“I gotta ask you a favour.” Frankie prompted eventually, sliding down into the cream faux-leather sofa and placing his bottle of beer on the coffee table. You took a seat in the chair opposite him and folded your arms, waiting for him to continue. “Actually, I don’t know. Never mind. Uhm… it’s a funny story to be honest. But, maybe it’s fine. It’s not fine. It’s just, well-”

“Spit it out Frankie!” You giggled jokingly, reaching over and nudging him slightly. He was immediately put at ease by just the simplest brush of your fingers, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with you. He found himself staring into the burning flame of your cinnamon scented candle. He felt mildly ashamed about how this whole situation had even surfaced in the first place.

“Me and Santi… we had a bet. A dare kinda thing.” Frankie explained, shuffling around with discomfort. He was definitely embarrassed that he had driven himself all the way to your apartment in the dead of night just to tell you this— or rather, ask you this. “The guys were teasing, you know how they are. About how- well, you know, I’ve never really been with a girl since…” Frankie paused.

“Marià.” You sighed, and Frankie nodded slowly. “Your ex wife…”

“Yeah. And I know it’s crazy but after the divorce and everything… I just haven’t really uh, had the opportunity. I mean I’ve had the opportunity it’s just- never felt right. I suppose. And you know, it’s not that I don’t want to start dating again. Or seeing women. Sleeping with wo-” Frankie was about to start rambling about his sex life (or lack there of) and you were not prepared to let your mind journey there. Not that you had never thought about it before… no. He was your best friend. And it would be wrong. Besides, Frankie had a tendency to over share but you were always there to help him get back on track, whereas others, namely the guys, would tease and mock him for it.

“Why are you here, Frankie?” You cut him off with as much delicacy as you could muster up. Your voice was soft, and Frankie noticed how gentle you had always been with him.

“Santi said he bet I couldn’t ask a girl out if I tried,” Frankie explained with a short sigh and you frowned. You knew Santiago well and you knew that he and Frankie were like brothers, but Frankie had been through a lot lately and Santiago never really had the best choice of words. You wondered if he had hurt Frankie, and instantly felt defensive over your friend.

“And then what happened?”

“I told Santi I could get a girl, and then, this afternoon, he asked me how I had come on. I lied, told him I asked out a pretty girl. He asked me about her and well, the girl I described… I guess… in my head I was just picturing you.” Frankie said, and finally glanced up at you, his pretty eyes shimmering in the dim light. You felt your heart rate increase at his revelation. “You know? It’s funny. This made up girl looks just like you.” He chuckled lightly. Your silence was deafening and his stomach filled with anxiety. “I don’t know why!” he assured but that was a lie. He knew why. He was your first thought at the start of the day you were his last thought at the end of the day. Every moment he got, he was thinking about you— pining over you.

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to process any more words. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You brushed away your feelings, thinking that you only came to Frankie’s mind because you saw him so much. You were the only girl he really hung out with.

“Of course Santi didn’t believe me. I’m a terrible liar. You know that. But I really don’t want the guys to catch me out on this! It’s so embarrassing.” Frankie was exasperated. You took to your feet and walked over to him, falling back on the sofa and resting your hand on Frankie’s forearm. To Frankie, your touch was like electricity.

“You do not need to be ashamed of something like this Frankie,” you assured him. Frankie took off his cap and ran his fingers through his brown locks.

“I know I know,” he sighed before looking back at you. “Santi wants to meet this fake girl. He’s been seeing Yovanna again and he’s organised a double date kind of thing. For him, Yo, myself and well… I'm hoping, you.”

You blinked hard. “Wait,” you paused. “You want to go on a date with me?”

This had to be dream. Had you just fallen asleep on the sofa? You pinched yourself and checked the wall clock above the television. Only a few minutes had ticked by. Definitely not a dream.

“Fake date.” Frankie corrected and you felt your heart sink slightly.

Or maybe it was a nightmare.

You shuffled around, not knowing how to feel. “Uhm, Frankie… I’m not sure…” you hesitated. All you had wanted for so long was to go on a date with Frankie. A real date. You had been dreaming about the day he would ask you out since you first met him, but this wasn’t what you had pictured at all.

“Please,” Frankie begged, clasping his hands together in a pleaing manner. “Just pretend to be my date.”

And how could you ever say no to Frankie Morales’ puppy dog eyes?

The night of the date, you and Frankie had agreed to meet at the restaurant. You hadn’t really discussed anything prior, but this date, albeit fake, was all you could think about. Every chance you had, you were thinking about Frankie. You wondered how it would be, pretending to be his date. And equally, Frankie was thinking the same.

He struggled to catch any sleep, and instead would lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. He wondered how to fake a date. He didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable and he simply hadn’t dated anyone in so long. He was so sure that he would embarrass himself, and that you’d never want to talk to him again.

Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were already sitting around the restaurant table before you arrived. It was a quaint little Italian place on the coast and it had the most beautiful evening view. The sky was darkening and there wasn't a cloud in sight, but instead, pearly white stars pierced the velveteen abyss above and it looked like something straight out of a romance movie. The environment was perfect. The place was slightly out of the usual burger joint budget for Frankie and Santiago, but Yovanna insisted on the high-end restaurant, and even Frankie had to admit it would be nice to eat some good quality food for a change.

You weren’t late, but rather Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were early. Frankie had already downed three bottles of beer before you arrived, trying to wash away his nerves. By the time you came, he was already slightly intoxicated. His ease was all that mattered and besides, Frankie was a happy drunk.

When Frankie saw you enter the restaurant, it was like his whole world stopped. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight he was looking at you in a whole different light. You weren’t in your usual sweats and hoodie, and truthfully he had never seen you like this before. Your little black dress hugged your body in all the right places, and your matching heels clicked against the marble floor as you padded over to the table. You felt a blush creep upon your cheeks when you caught Santi gawking.

“Whoa, you clean up well!” Santiago complimented, looking you up and down, grinning ecstatically.

Frankie tried to keep his cool, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He took in your bare legs and how fine they looked in your dress, and he admired the way you had styled your hair. It was out of your face, and he appreciated that, because now he could infatuate himself over your features. You wore minimal makeup, but your eyeshadow accentuated your eye colour and your choice of lip gloss plumped your lips slightly. Frankie’s eyes went from being drawn to your legs, to now your lips, and he cursed himself for the thoughts he was thinking. Fake date. He reminded himself; but he couldn't help but question— what if it was real? If he could, he’d take you in his arms right then and there and kiss you.

You took your seat next to Yovanna and opposite Frankie, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, but as you felt Frankie’s eyes burn into you, electricity sparked in your in your lower stomach. A certain kind of excitement. You pushed it away the best you could, focusing on reading the menu in front of you and deciding on the food you would order. Frankie pushed over a vibrant purple drink in a cocktail glass. “I got you your favourite,” Frankie smiled, and you felt your heart flutter. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You smiled and took a sip, but scrunched up your nose when the strong taste of vodka hit. “Um, sweetie,” You thought that tonight you would have to force out the pet names but it came so naturally. “How many shots are in here?”

“It’s a treble.” Frankie bit his lip, watching you with intent as you took another sip. His heart blossomed at the little name you called him.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?!” you gasped playfully and Frankie offered you another warm smile. “I don’t mind. Actually, I need it. Had a bad day at work.” you explained.

“It was Santi’s idea.” he admitted and Santiago innocently raised his hands in response. Frankie reached over the table, taking your hands in his and brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. “Bad day?” he furrowed his eyebrows together, concern peaking in his gentle voice.

“Talk about it later.” you promised. Frankie brought your hands to his lips and kissed them softly. You had to stop yourself from swooning on the spot. Your heart began to pick up speed again and at this point, you were finding it difficult to remember that this was all fake.

As the four of you ate your food, you and Frankie were flirting all night; playing footsie under the table and exchanging dirty jokes. At one point, you accidentally ran your heel up his leg and he let out an accidental groan, fillet mignon almost spilling out his mouth. You hurled with laughter and his cheeks rosied up in embarrassment. Both you and Frankie were enjoying yourself way more than you had ever even considered.

“Wait,” you spluttered out in a fluster of giggles. You were still laughing at one of Frankie’s jokes. “Yovanna and Santi have gone home.” You noticed, pointing your finger at the empty seats next to yourself and Frankie.

“Oh yeah,” Frankie replied. “And we didn’t even notice.” He burst into laughter again and you followed, the alcohol really letting you both lose your inhibitions. “That bastard left me with his and Yovanna’s bill too.” Frankie shook his head in disbelief.

“Let me help you pay,” you unzipped your purse but Frankie put his hand out and stopped you.

“Don’t worry baby, this is on me.” Frankie promised and offered you a cheeky wink.

Santiago and Yovanna were gone. They had no one to prove their fake date to— and yet, exchanging flirtatious comments were simply too fun to stop.

“Okay,” you laughed, taking a gulp of red wine. You were sure the warm liquid must have stained your lips crimson with how much you had drunk, but you weren’t too concerned. “But next time, I’m paying.”

“There’s going to be a next time?" Frankie asked you hopefully.

“Isn’t there?” you returned a smile. “This was the best fake date I’ve ever been on.” You and Frankie let out a boisterous laugh, even catching the attention of other couples who were sitting around you trying to enjoy their romantic candlelit dinners.

“Touché,” he agreed, taking out his wallet and signing a check before clipping it to the bill and standing up. He took your hand, pulling you forward but you stumbled to your feet, falling into his chest. He was so broad and his arms were so big. Your feelings for him picked up a notch and you were unsure how long you could keep up the charade of pretending you saw him as just a friend.

You thought about how strong he was, barely flinching when you fell into him, and honestly, it turned you on. He slung his hands around your waist, slowly pushing you off his, but even when you weren’t resting on him anymore, he kept his big hands around you as you left the restaurant and walked through the parking lot to Frankie’s truck. You were grateful because without him guiding you and steadying you, you’d probably struggle to even reach the truck.

The close proximity between you and him made Frankie overwhelmed, his palms getting clammy and his cock hardening from your scent alone. Everything felt so intense. The cool night air took his breath away and he loved the way he could feel the shape of your body through your dress. He craved more.

He hoped that in the darkness of the night, you hadn’t noticed his throbbing length under his jeans. He slid into the driver seat of the car and you sat next to him, strapping yourself in. Frankie turned the key and as you set off, you both sat there in silence. Silence around Frankie was never uncomfortable, but this wasn’t a situation you were used to. It was a big difference to the environment in the bustling restaurant, but now it was just you two, alone, in his car— and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

“Come home with me.” You said eventually, not moving an inch and still looking at the road ahead. You managed to find the confidence, but you weren’t yet able to bring yourself to look him in the eye. He was your best friend. And you realised that what you were asking of him was a lot.

Frankie wasn’t put off, in fact, he felt his cock twitch at your words and he had to suppress a moan from escaping his lips. Did you really want him to take you home? As if on cue, you continued your proposal.

“Stay the night.” This verified Frankie’s thoughts and you hoped he had got the hint. You looked up into the rear view mirror and watched Frankie as he concentrated on driving, his body completely tensed up. He didn’t say a word, but when he detoured, you knew he was taking you back to your apartment. You wanted to calm him. Relax him. Soothe him. You let your fingers grace his jean clad leg, accidentally brushing over his erection. Frankie cursed under his breath. “S-sorry.” you mumbled, feeling your face flush. He was already hard. You crossed your legs tight together, trying to ignore the way your cunt was already dripping for him.

“No,” Frankie said. “Was good. Felt good.” his grip on the steering wheel tightened as you contemplated his words. He liked it. You moved your hand over his crotch again and began to palm him as he drove. He felt so constricted in his jeans and he couldn’t wait to get them off. It wasn’t long before his vision began to feel hazy under your touch but luckily he soon pulled up in front of your apartment. You removed your hand from his leg and let yourself out of the truck, feeling dazed also, and hurried inside. Frankie followed, loosing his belt as he stepped foot into the building. He was throbbing and in such desperate need of relief.

You pressed the button and waited for the elevator to come. By the time Frankie caught up with you, it was here, and the pair of you stepped inside. As the doors began to close on you, Frankie crashed his lips onto yours, pushing his body against you. This time it was his turn to touch you. His rough manner made you gasp but you needed to feel his body against yours. You let his hands explore you, his fingers rolling over the curves of your breasts and the dips in your waist. Within seconds, the elevator door opened with a ping and you had reached the floor of your apartment. Hungrily, you grabbed Frankie by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to your front door, unlocking it with haste. Once you were inside, you turned to shut the door behind you when Frankie pinned you against it. His hands were on your wrists and your arms were spread out over the wood. He pressed a kiss into your jaw. “You want this?” his voice was rough and barely above a whisper, and his manner made your knees weak. He was so close to you, you could smell the beer mixed with his fragrance.

You didn’t dare move, but instead mewled out a tiny “yes”. Frankie smirked and turned you around so he could look at you in the eyes. He still had a hold of you, his grip was as tight as vice and his eyes were no longer the usual shade of honeyed brown but instead were much darker and lustful with a predatory glint. He kissed you again, hard, and his tongue swiped along your lower lip, begging for entry which you quickly granted. It was easy to get lost in the kiss; he was so good and so passionate. He worked his hands all over your body, pulling the occasional moan from your lips. Hearing the noises you made felt like music to his ears. You felt his hardened manhood press against the inside of your thigh and you shuddered, breaking the kiss to regain your breath. “Bedroom.” you mumbled out. You took Frankie’s hand and dragged him through the living room and into your small bedroom. He sat himself down on the edge of your bed and began to kick off his shoes when you took him by surprise and straddled him, wrapping your legs around him and initiating another heated kiss.

You needed some kind of release and on impulse, you began to grind yourself over Frankie’s denim clad leg. Your heart was racing as you rubbed yourself over the material, a fire burning deep in your stomach at the friction between the jeans and the thin silk panties you were sporting. Frankie placed a soft kiss to your lips, along your jaw, and down your neck as you began to get yourself off on him. He bit down gently, leaving his mark, wanting to claim you as his own. “Mine.” His voice was dark and you grabbed his shoulders, grinding on his leg harder.

“Yours.” You shakily exhaled, trying to keep your composure. You shuffled forward, further onto him and started rubbing yourself over his erection, pulling a groan from his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile knowing that this was your doing. You kept at it, enjoying the control, and watched Frankie’s eyes close from the sensation as you grinded over him.

“Yeah baby that’s it,” he praised. “Take what you need.”

Those four words threw you over the edge. You reached up, letting your fingers tangle in Frankie’s chocolate coloured locks of hair, tugging at them as you rode out your high. He opened his eyes, watching you as you dropped your head back, seeing stars. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Feeling satisfied, you scrambled off him, your legs shaky and he grabbed the hem of your dress. He began to pull it off you as eagerly as he could. Frankie noticed the damp patch on his leg from your wetness and muttered another curse. You were so wet and it was all for him. He looked up at you, watching you kick your dress to one side and felt his jaw tick. He was mesmerised by your body. In only your panties, you straddled him once more, and Frankie let his hands roam over your breasts, giving them the occasional squeeze.

“My turn.” you told him, pulling his shirt over his head and pushing him into the blankets of your bed. He let out a soft groan as his head hit your pillow and you shuffled backwards a little. You unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them before pulling them down to his ankles. Frankie kicked them off and they pooled into a pile amongst his shirt and your dress at the bottom of the bed. A little gasp escaped your lips when you eyed up his hardened length under the thin cloth of his boxer shorts, a small patch of wetness already visible. You dipped your hands into his underwear and pulled him out, licking your lips at the sight of his precum beading at the tip.

You let your fingers wander his length, teasingly, making sure you were as soft as possible. Then, you pulled away and spat into your hand. You wrapped your hand around his cock and began pumping at it. “Ngh, s-so good,” Frankie grunted, closing his eyes as you worked at him. “Haven’t-haven’t been touched in so long.”

“Relax,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you.”

Frankie bucked his hips further into your hand and you kept going. His eyes fluttered shut and his mind was in a solid state of euphoria. This was better than he had ever imagined and he knew he wouldn’t last long. You stroked him up and down and watched him as he came undone beneath you.

“Wanted this for so long,” he admits mindlessly. “Imagined this, so many nights… imagined your pretty lips around my-”

You cut Frankie off by taking his length in your mouth and pushing as deep as you could, opening your throat up to him and gagging slightly from his length. However, it didn’t take long to become comfortable with the way his cock filled you. He let out a gasp, his back arching and his fists grabbing the bed sheets. You bobbed your head up and down and he took a fistful of your hair, only encouraging you further.

He raised his head and watched you take him. Your hand still wet, you begin to pump the remaining length of him that you couldn’t fit into your mouth and he shudders in ecstasy. With your free hand, you cradle his balls, rubbing circles with your thumb and you can feel him almost lose it completely.

“Won’t last,” he warns you. “Please, wanna be inside you. Wanna feel your pussy.” he practically begs and as soon as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, you pull off him, leaving a trail of your saliva between your tongue and his length.

You admired Frankie’s naked body spread out in your bed, a thin sheen of sweat glazing over his chest. It was a sight you had only dreamed about. He sat up and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you down so now he was on top. He positioned himself in between your legs and gently spread them apart, eyeing up the dark patch in the crotch of your panties from where you had previously orgasmed on his leg. He let his finger glide over the material, rubbing against the bud of your clit and you whimpered in desperation. “So wet for me.” he drew out. “Can I taste?” he asked, looked up at you with his big brown eyes. You wanted to smack that innocent look he had playing on his face.

“Frankieee.” you cried out. You would never, ever deny oral from Frankie but right now you craved something else. “Need you inside me. Please.”

Frankie pulled your panties down your legs and threw them to the floor. “Oh baby,” he moaned, running his fingers through your slick wet folds. “I’m just warming up.” his voice was like honey and he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking intently. You threw your head back at the sensation and felt his mustache and stubble tickle you as he worked your core.

This was better than anything Frankie had ever dreamed about. He needed to taste every drop of your arousal. He had wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. He wanted to savour every moment like it was his last. After all, you two were the best of friends and he didn’t know where exactly you’d stand about all of this tomorrow. If you’d even want to see him again. You were both risking a lot but somehow, it felt worthwhile.

Frankie found it difficult to remain composed as he devoured you and felt your body shake as you neared your climax. He grabbed your thighs, steadying you as you let out a wail. “Please Frankie.” you cried out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Need you inside of me.” You reminded, tugging on his hair even harder. He took his finger and grazed your entrance while still working his tongue against you. “Stop teasing.”

For once, Frankie listened to you and pulled his lips away from you. He thought he could cum just from eating you out and he didn’t want that to happen. This could be his only chance. You groaned in frustration at the break of contact. You were so close and he had edged you completely before pulling away. You had asked for it. He was such a tease. Frankie hovered himself over you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt his cock nudge against your core and you dug your fingernails into his back. You needed him now.

“Do you have a condom?” Frankie whispered into your ear. He hadn’t brought any to the fake date because truthfully, he didn’t expect the night would be ending like this.

“I’m safe.” you promised him and he smiled, kissing your lips. You laced your fingers into his hair as he steadied himself on the bed.

“Are you ready?” Frankie questioned, nudging his cock over your entrance again causing you to let out a wail.

“Please Frankie. I’m ready.”

The second those two words left your lips, Frankie thrusted deep inside you. You gasped as he slowly adjusted himself inside of you and, still experiencing your high from when he ate you out, you knew you wouldn't ask long. He felt your walls tighten around him and he knew it too.

“I’m gonna cum.” you warned him, tugging on his curls at the nape of his neck and pulling his head down into your collarbones. He pinched at your skin with his teeth and increased his speed.

“Cum for me.” He instructed, his voice dark. With a few more sloppy thrusts, you came undone beneath him, dragging your nails down his back. He didn’t stop and continued to thrust into you as you climaxed causing small screams to emit from your lips. Frankie loved the little noises you made.

“Shit,” he whispered, his coarse hands finding and massaging your breasts. “Your cunt gets so tight when you cum.”

“Frankieeee, keep doing that and I’ll cum again.” you said softly and you felt Frankie’s lips twist into a wicked smirk as he pushed himself deeper inside of you.

“Ngh you feel so good,” Frankie grunted, pearls of sweat beading at his hairline. “Can you cum for me again? Can you give me another one?”

“Yes Frankie,” you obeyed, cupping your hands around his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes while he fucked you. His coarse facial hair grazed your hands but nothing felt as good as his length filling you up, hitting you in just the right spot with each thrust.

“I want you to cum with me,” Frankie gasped, groaning loudly as he felt his cock twitch inside you. He was close, and you could feel it too. “Same time.” he instructed. He was so used to giving orders, that it turned you on even more. “Can you do that for me?” his voice was urged and he kept his pace consistent.

You managed to give him a small nod and closed your eyes feeling nothing but pure bliss and ecstasy. “I’m close!” you managed to cry out.

“Me too, n-not long baby,” Frankie promised you. “Say my name.”

“Fuck Frankie, you fuck me so good. Your cock fills me up so well. Feels so good,” you moaned, your legs tightening around his waist.

“That’s it.” Frankie groaned.

“Cum inside me Frankie,” you gasped. “Pl-please. Need to feel your warm cum inside of me.”

“Gonna count down baby girl,” Frankie said, straightening up and pushing more hard thrusts inside of you. He admired your tangled body between him and brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing at it while he finished fucking you. “Are you ready?”

“Frankieeee.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“3, 2,” Frankie pushed one final deep thrust into you. “1.” You and Frankie both came together, your wet cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and his thick ropes of cum spilling inside of you.

Frankie rolled off you and lay next to you. You curled yourself into his damp chest and he slung his arm around you. You felt safe. Protected. You knew that Frankie would never let anyone or anything hurt you but now it felt different. He was your safety, and you were his home. For a few minutes, you both laid there in silence trying to regain your breath and settle down.

“That was-” Frankie started but you cut him off.

“So good.” you smiled and he grinned back in agreement.

“The best.” He replied and gave you a little squeeze of reassurance.

“Hey Frankie?” You asked and he hummed in acknowledgement. “If that was a fake date… what the hell do you do on a fake date?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled when you saw Frankie’s cheeks rosy up.

“Wanna find out?” He beckoned and your grin couldn’t have grown any wider. You were finally going to get your chance to have a real date with Frankie.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #smut #catfish morales #triple frontier #x reader

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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twinklelilstarkey · 3 years

Note

hiii can you do angst 3 with nolan please 🥰

"You shouldn't be here." - Nolan Patrick

It has been a rough week. You feel like all your movements consist of you crawling in and out of your bed. Your pillow is constantly wet with your tears and your chest is permanently tightening in the void of nothing but heartbreak.

You don’t exactly need to leave your apartment since all of your classes are still online, and your cabinets are still full enough for you to survive for a little bit longer. So, honestly, if you were to leave, it would be out of a spontaneous decision, something you’re sure won’t happen any soon.

The only bit of fresh air you’ve caught in the last few days was when you opened your bathroom window to get your shower’s steam out of the small room, yet other than that... just nothing.

Today marks 7 days since you have broken up with your boyfriend of a year and a half, Nolan.

The reason behind your break up is a complete result of the snowball effect. It all started with small fights which always ended with you apologizing and him sort of forgiving you, and with small fight after small fight, a whole shouting argument was bad enough to mark the end of your relationship.

Nolan said so much, that he now admits that not even 1% of it is true, but it was enough to break your heart and force you to walk away.

It was definitely a break up. It was no Hollywood movie argument with an open ending in which the main characters never actually say the words. You two said it, and you two agreed on ending everything and cutting all tights right there. Right in the middle of his apartment.

You feel miserable and you’ve caught yourself trying to call him at crazy hours of the night a few times already. You never ended up actually doing it, but there was a time that it was close enough for it to ring one time - not even enough for it to even reach his phone.

Your week consists in at least 3 full days of classes, which does sound awful, but you feel like everything just gets worse when you’re left to stay by yourself and with your reality. All because even though you’re not listening to what your teachers are saying, you’ve got at least some sort of noise to occupy your mind.

But, god, nights are the worst. Looking out of your window to stare at the city view is not the same anymore, having sweet or salty sneaky snacks is not the same anymore, watching your favorite show under all your blankets is not the same anymore. You’re suffering so much that you can’t find anything even slightly enjoyable.

Now, Nolan, on the other hand, has to leave his apartment. He has to work, go to the ice rink, and practice every morning. And, in reality, no matter how much his coaches are screaming in his face, he just can’t find a way to fix whatever he’s doing wrong.

For the first days, no friend of his knew about the breakup, so, they just thought he was just going a little crazy over a bad hangover or whatever. But that didn’t last long. It only took TK to ask him if the offer for the double date still stood for everyone to notice.

His silence and serious expression made his best friend frown and even stop what he was doing. He couldn’t believe he was seeing.

Travis honestly thought that Nolan hadn’t heard him for a good few seconds, but as soon as he went to make sure, Nolan just stood up and left.

He wasn’t reacting like you were. He wasn’t crying every time his brain brought him back to you, he was just staring into nothing and letting his mind work free through it. Battling his feelings away.

You still watched the Flyers’ games, even though he wasn’t spending much time on the ice, and you still wore his jersey like any other night.

Sleeping after those nights were even harder. Today is one of them.

You turn on your bed, eyeing the large window beside your bed and all the lights of the city you’re blessed to see from high above, and your mind soon travels to all the memories you own and protect.

All the times you cuddled with a sleeping or just sleepy Nolan after good or rough games while staring at the calming night. All the times you enjoyed late mornings in bed, talking about life and laughing at absolutely everything.

A soft grin plays over your lips at the light-hearted memories but at the same time, it breaks at the realization it is not your truth anymore.

You sniffle softly and blink your tears away, bringing your hands to your warm cheeks to wipe down the wetness you’ve grown so familiar to.

A soft knock on your front door fills your apartment and you quickly sit up in surprise. It’s 3 am.

It’s way too late for your landlord to come over now, right? Sinks don’t usually get fixed at this time of night... Right?

The knock repeats itself and you sigh. It won’t hurt to check.

You stand up from your bed, ignoring the mess you’re leaving behind, and you bring your hood over your head. On your way down the hallway, you wipe your face one more time to make sure that no tears are to be shown to anyone, and as soon as you’re done, you’re standing by the door.

You unlock it slowly and Nolan feels a sudden wave of cold hit the walls of his stomach as anxiety becomes evident to him, again.

The door opens slowly, creaking slightly in the silence of the night, and your eyes meet up at the same time.

You feel frozen in place while Nolan is just lost for words. He hasn’t seen you for more than he has ever before and that made his body almost go into shock.

“Wha-” You try to ask but your voice cracks a bit, “What are you doing here?”

He stands silent for a few seconds and he continuous to stare you down, analyzing your face. Eyes slightly swollen, as well as your lips, your soft sniffling. You’ve been crying.

“I wanted to talk.” He finally speaks, his deep voice breaking through the hallway harshly.

“You shouldn’t be here.” You tell him.

“I know.” He agrees, “But... Can I please come in?”

You bite the inside of your lip in thought and your hand slides over the side of the door, grabbing both of your attentions.

Hesitatingly, you take a step back and swing your door open further, giving Nolan enough space to walk in comfortingly.

He’s careful with his steps, and soon the door closes behind him again. Your apartment is still extremely comforting and warm to him. And for a second, it almost made him forget what he was doing there in the first place.

“Want to go sit?” You whisper.

He looks over his shoulder to look at you and gives you a small nod. You break your glance and decide to be the first one to walk towards the couch.

Nolan follows you and soon the two of you are seated beside one another.

Even though with straight serious looks on your faces, you two have racing hearts and sweaty hands. Everything that could make their bodies react to the situation in the middle of all this silence.

“Did I wake you up?” He firstly asks and you just shake your head.

You look down at your hands over your lap and unconsciously, you pull your sleeves over your hands, hiding them from your own eyes.

Nolan decides to start.

“I shouldn’t have said all those things.” Nolan says as he also looks down at your, now covered, hands. “I was mad and I made all of... that, up.”

The words slowly register in your mind and you force yourself to look at him in the face.

“I know it’s stupid.” He says before you can even try to talk, “I know I shouldn’t have even fought back. You were right and I was just being an idiot.”

He shakes his head, staring back into your confused eyes.

“Nol-”

“I don’t know why I even did it. It was like I didn’t want to be in the wrong when I was. It was so childish of me...” He continues, “And all the things that I called you were ju-just awful. And I want you to know what I didn’t mean any of it and that not even one of them is tru-”

He sighs in desperation, finding it ridiculous how he found himself lost in his own thoughts and just rambled all his worries in one breath. Your hands finally stop playing on your lap.

“I wish I could take everything back.” He says more slowly and calmly, “And just act like none of it happened.”

“Me too.” You agree.

He stays silent and his chest tightens at the idea of this not going as he wants to.

“I just... I’m sorry.” He whispers the last part. “You don’t have to forgive me...” He pauses, “Now or-or even ever, but I just want you to know that I am so, so, so sorry.”

You stare back at him as his words fill your ears and his soft expression of pure hurt is all that emphasizes your overthinking.

“And...” He starts again, almost as if saying sorry for talking with his eyes, “I’m also sorry for only talking to you a week later. It-it’s stupid of me. Again.”

The corners of your lips lift slightly at his last words and you swallow harshly, preparing yourself to talk. Yet you stop yourself as you don’t exactly know what to say.

You look down, biting your lip in thought, and quickly, your hands lays over Nolan’s. And even over your hoodie’s thick material, you can feel how cold they are from standing outside at the crack of dawn.

“I’m sorry too.” You whisper to him.

“You don’t need to-”

“I do.” You look back up, “I walked away during a fight and in some way, I feel like it was my fault that you exploded the way you did.”

Nolan shakes his head and you peek your fingers from your sleeves, interlacing them with Nolan’s cold ones. You bring your hand up around your conjoined hands and trace slightly over his fingers to warm them.

“Well, then I forgive you.” Nolan says to you, following your gaze down to your hands. “I really do, even if I think you didn’t do anything wrong.”

A soft grin grows over your lips and you look up at him.

“Than I forgive you too.” You say, “Just- Please, promise me that we’ll never go for that long without talking or trying to sort things out again.” You cringe slightly at your request as if there’s a possibility that he will reject.

“I promise.” He says right away.

“And that we’ll never walk away like that or break up like that.”

“That too. I promise.”

A smile finally breaks through your features and soon also did Nolan’s. You bring your hand up to his face and with a quick movement, you cup his cheek and lay your lips over his.

The kiss is simple, more of a peck if anything, but it’s longer than a normal peck.

You two pull away and Nolan is quick to kiss your cheek a couple of times before actually leaning back and look at you.

“I think we should go to bed.” You tell him with a soft smile, “It’s almost 4.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick imagines #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick x you #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine

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blueeyedgeorgie · 3 years

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Scandalous(1)

An infamous Influencer that is known for getting into drama befriends ImAllexx, George doesn’t trust them one bit.

Gif cred. @sdmngifs

Pairing: George Memeulous x Reader

WC: 2.2k+

Pronouns: They/Them

____________

For the entire day, Alex seemed to constantly be on his feet. At first, George really didn't pay much attention to it, after all, sometimes people just have busy days. Usually for George, his days weren't anything special. He'd just wake up and lay around the house. He'd make sure to film a video every couple of days and could be found playing a bit of FIFA or COD.

George didn't have much of a reason to leave his shared flat. He'd usually go over to one of his friend's places to hang out or film a collab, every now and then he'd go out shopping to get a couple of things for a video or just the flat. Still, George wasn't the type of person to find reasons to rush around or try and get as many tasks done as possible, it was one of the many perks that came with being a YouTuber.

It was normal to see Alex running around once in a while. He'd like to go out and do things like playing football with a few of his mates or just going out and being around people. But today seemed different, as though he was planning for something important to happen.

At first, George didn't feel the need to ask his flatmate about what was going on. But while the day rolled on and Alex seemed to only go back and forth from making phone calls to typing away on his computer, George's curiosity had begun to eat himself up from inside.

As the afternoon rolled around, George found himself seated on the couch. He had been wasting a good portion of his day watching whatever he could find on the TV that was actually interesting. Earlier he had filmed a few videos for his second channel, he looked at the Reddit page for usual funny content and then proceeded to go on a Twitter page and look at nostalgic videos and photos for a second video.

Usually with some luck, George would be able to find something good to put on TV, but today just seemed like one of those days where you couldn't find anything good to watch. So as a final resort, he had turned on some Spongebob cartoons, it seemed like he only had enough luck to have the old cartoons from the early 2000's play.

While watching the yellow sponge on TV, George had checked a few of his social medias, wondering if there was anything else that was going on that could possibly hold his attention for longer than ten minutes.

Maybe he just needed a new hobby, something to keep attention for more than five minutes. FIFA was fun, but you could only play it so many times.

"Hey George?"

The sound of his flatmate's voice had pulled him out of his thoughts. Standing behind the couch, Alex was typing away on his iPhone. He had taken a quick look to make eye contact with George before returning to his text messages. Turning around, the brunette man gave his attention to his flatmate, "What's up?"

"I don't know if you remembered, but I'm having someone come out to the UK to spend a couple of days with me to film some collabs and just get to know each other," sliding his phone in his back pocket, Alex shoved his hands into his pockets. "Hopefully this turns out all good."

How did this slip his mind? Alex had been mentioning he was planning to do this with someone for the past couple of weeks. As the days rolled on, when he became busier and busier, it all made sense. Alex was only making sure everything was going to go smoothly when whoever was going to come to the UK.

"Shit, that totally slipped my mind, sorry," George brushed a hand through his hair with a short sigh. "Are they gonna stay with us or are they staying at a hotel? Maybe they're doing something completely different."

"Hotel," as he responded, Alex began to rock back and forth on the heels of his feet. "They're gonna get here in two days and when they show up me and a couple of our friends are gonna go out and get some drinks, just to get more comfortable with one another. You coming with us?"

"I don't see why not," giving a shrug, George leaned his head against the palm of his hand, supporting his head to sit at a certain angle. "Are you interested in this influencer or something, you keep saying you wanna get comfortable with them."

"Well, they aren't really my type. Also, they're gonna be hanging around us for a few days, so of course I wanna be comfortable around them."

"Who even is 'they'? Does this influencer have a name?" George let out another sigh as he looked up at his flatmate.

"They're Y/n L/n."

Y/n L/n, George had heard that name a few times in the influencer world. One thing he knew for sure, Y/n was much bigger than both Alex and George's channels combined. So why was Y/n planning to come and hang around them for a while?

That wasn't the only question rushing through George's mind, from what he had heard about Y/n (which was very little) he knew they were a very scandalous person. Having them around didn't seem like too bright of an idea, maybe Alex just wanted to collab with them to gain a bit more in subscribers... George knew it'd be smart to keep Y/n at arm's length while they'd be in the UK. After all, they'd only be here for a couple of days, so how hard could it be?

"Oh."

"Just 'oh'?" Alex raised a brow at his flatmate, "What is it?"

"Nothing, I just took me a moment to realize who they were," George turned back to face the TV, implying the conversation had come to an end.

"Alright, I'm gonna get back to making sure the flat isn't a typical mess," Alex sighed, taking a step back from the couch.

"Cool," George mumbled as he watching the yellow sponge on TV run beside a pink star.

If Y/n got Alex caught up in anymore drama, he'd have a fit. He had seen his flatmate come so far since the last time drama was in his life. There'd be a chance that would grow bigger and bigger everytime they hung out that Alex could get caught up in a scandal.

Even though Alex's a grown adult, sometimes he could make really stupid decisions. But that was the thing, Alex is a human being, he's allowed to make mistakes. All George wanted for this whole collab to into come back around and bite Alex in the ass. But it was too late, Y/n was going to be here soon and whatever happens, just happens. There wasn't much George could do besides distancing himself away from Y/n.

"Alright, I think I have enough shirts, I better go double-check to see if I have my toiletries all packed up," Y/n had mumbled under their breath in the midst of packing. Even though they were a big YouTuber and could simply pay someone to pack for them, Y/n had decided to pack for this one trip.

"Y/n, where the fuck are you?"

The sound of someone's voice had become louder, Y/n could tell their friend was entering their bedroom.

"I'm just in the bathroom, Bret!" They had responded while looking underneath their bathroom sink for a few more toiletries.

"Are you seriously leaving?" The one and only Bretman Rock stood in the doorway of the bathroom, looking down at his friend.

"Well yeah, I've been planning this trip for the past couple of weeks," Y/n looked up at the makeup influencer. Bretman and Y/n had been friends since forever, they had gone through so much together.

"You're gonna miss James's party next Saturday," he moved aside, letting the other influencer in the room past by.

"It's just one party," they had let out a short scoff while working on packaging their bathroom items properly. "James always throws parties, I'll go to the next one."

"Fine bitch," Bretman had tossed himself onto Y/n's bed, making their suitcase jump a little with everything else that had been laid out on Y/n's bed. "Why are you even going to London?"

"Well, I'm planning to meet up with a friend to make some videos together and just hang out," Y/n shrugged as they tucked away a few more items into their suitcase.

"Who?"

"He goes by ImAllexx on YouTube."

Bretman shook his head as he watched his friend, "I have absolutely never heard of them... ever."

"Yeah, his channel is smaller than either of ours."

"Lemme tell you now, if you're secretly doing some long-distance relationship with him and haven't bothered to tell me any tea yet, I will literally kill you," the raven-haired man laid on his back, beginning to fidget with the rings that sat on his fingers.

"I'm telling you now, Bret. Alex is only a friend, he's like a brother," they tsked at their friend as they zipped up their suitcase, finally finishing packing.

"Fine, but if I find out you end up hooking up with some British boys over there and don't tell me... like I said, you'll be dead bitch."

"Calm down, you know I can't keep secrets from you," Y/n flashed a cheeky grin at their friend while sliding the suitcase off of the bed. "I had two hours before I head to the airport, what do you wanna do?" For the past couple of weeks, Y/n had been counting down the days until they would leave for London. No doubt about it, they were excited. It wasn't often for them to make friends with other Influencers or people in general. So when they got the chance to make friends with a small commentary YouTuber that went by the name of ImAllexx, they had made sure to be as kind as possible.

At this point it was truly hard for Y/n to make friends, most people didn't like them based on the rumors that had spread about Y/n. Others that usually tried to be Y/n's friends were merely using them for money and fame. It became hard for Y/n to trust people and get close to them. So how did Alex pull off gaining Y/n's trust?

Y/n one day had been scrolling through YouTube, looking for something to watch. At this point, they had seen almost everything, vlogs, challenges, makeup, drama, and more. But one video had popped up into Y/n's recommended videos that had caught their eye.

'We Need to Stop Y/n L/n.'

It was normal for Y/n to see these types of videos, usually they'd come from Drama channels trying to cancel them. But this one had come from a YouTuber with the name, 'ImAllexx'. It was normal for Y/n to scroll when they came across these types of videos, but the video seemed a bit intriguing considering the thumbnail was only a simple picture of themself against a blue background. So of course, Y/n clicked on the video only to hear; "Hello everyone, I'm Alex..."

Y/n found the video quite funny, when they'd watch videos made on them, the videos were typically quite harsh and mean. With Alex, he seemed like the type of person to be able to take a joke. His whole video was on an Instagram post Y/n had made a week or two before Alex had posted his video, he had just been taking the piss out of the photo as a joke.

And after finishing that video and having a laugh, Y/n continued to watch more of Alex's videos, just to see if he was seemingly a decent guy. And somehow, they got hooked on Alex's videos. And by the end of the day, they had binged a good amount of his content.

A few days after discovering Alex and his content, Y/n had decided to check out a few of his social medias. That's when Y/n had found out he was already following them on both Instagram and Twitter.

When Alex checked Instagram a while later, he was surprised to find that @y/nl/n was now following him. Y/n was almost four times(if not more) the popularity size of Alex, so how had they noticed him? He was a bit nervous at first, why would someone like Y/n follow him?

Instead of anxiety getting the best of Alex, he had decided to do something to try and figure out why of all people, @y/nl/n had decided to follow him. So he had been careful with sliding into Y/n's DMS, only to ask why they had followed him. ANd moments later, Y/n responded to him.

'I've just been binge-watching your content lately and I thought that you were funny so I followed you. :)'

At first, Alex felt like it could possibly be a trap, but he continued to message back and forth with Y/n. After a while, Alex had realized that maybe Y/n wasn't as scandalous and dramatic as people made them out to be. As the days rolled on and they continued to talk, they had ended up developing a friendship.

After a couple of months of talking and coming closer and closer, Alex had asked if Y/n would want to fly out to the UK from LA to film a couple of collabs and hang out in person. Y/n had easily accepted his invitation, and just like that, A date was set for Y/n to fly out to London.

Taglist: @ivory-raptor @breakfast-cereal @snowcones404 @golden-hoax

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tsukiihime · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak Chapter 4 (Shinsou x Fem!Reader, Bakugou X Fem!Reader)

I am on the fence if I should do an ending for each character, but I'll mull it over a bit more before making the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Drinking, Angst

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

This isn’t how you imagined you would be spending your weekend.

You’ve spent the night flipping through channels, ordering Chinese takeout as you sit cross-legged on Shinsou’s couch in your favorite tank top and shorts staring blankly at the television screen. You’ve kept your phone by you all this time in hopes of receiving a call that hasn’t come yet, and at this point you’re pretty sure it won’t come at all. You’ve been mulling over it for hours - do you call Bakugou? Let your pride take a backseat to your longing and put an end to your uncertainty? Or do you wait for him to break first?

‘Who am I kidding’, you scoff to yourself, ‘Bakugou doesn’t apologize or bow down to anyone. I’ll probably die before I get him to make the first move.’ You scratch your neck, looking out of the corner of your eye at your cell phone sitting inconspicuously on the coffee table. If you’re being honest with yourself, you want some form of closure with Bakugou. There’s so many unanswered questions between the two of you: Whose underwear was that in your shared bedroom? Are Bakugou and Camie romantically involved? Why did he call you that night?

You want - no, you need answers before you drive yourself crazy with what ifs - so you decide that tonight you’re going to take the plunge and call your ex-boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou.

At least that was the plan, but all you’ve been doing for the past thirty minutes has been nervously pacing back and forth in Shinsou’s bedroom. You pick up your phone only to throw it back down in anxiety - what if you make a fool out of yourself? What if he really did call you on accident and you’re just getting your hopes up?

It takes another thirty-four minutes before you’ve calmed your nerves enough to dial his number and not feel like vomiting. You decided against drinking some alcohol to get some liquid courage - you needed to be sober for this conversation as much as it pained you. The phone line on the other side rings, and you’ve never been more afraid of what’s going to happen next than you have been your entire life. You bite your lip in anticipation, pulling at the bottom of your shorts to distract you from what seems like endless ringing in your ear.

All too soon, the ringing stops and you are greeted with a rough ‘hello’. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

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

Bakugou feels like his soul has left his body when he sees your name flash across his screen - you’re calling him. He’s wished for this moment for weeks: every single missed call, unread text and late night thought about you has now culminated in this moment. You’re finally giving him a chance to speak to you and you’re even making the first move! But he feels a strange new emotion well up inside him as his finger hovers over the ‘answer’ button.

Hesitation.

It’s a new feeling to the Explosion Hero - he’s always been a doer and not a thinker, action before thought. He’s always thought of himself as the best, the cream of the crop in every aspect of his life. But the vibrating cherry red phone in his hand makes his confidence waver. He’s hesitating to answer you, even if he’s missed you for so long. That’s right: the great Katsuki Bakugou is afraid.

He’s afraid to answer the phone, to get his hopes up that you’re calling because you miss him, when you could be just calling him by accident. You probably meant to call Shinsou, or maybe you’re calling to say that you left something at his house and want it back.

But this fear is quickly dispelled - this may be his last chance to tell you how he feels. How he truly feels, without his agency or anyone else getting in the way. He now knows that Shinsou is in love with you and he still loves you with every fiber of his being - if he’s going to have a rival in romance he needs to put everything on the table. He needs you to know how he feels so that he can have no regrets, no matter what happens between the two of you in the future.

His train of thought is interrupted by his brain urging him to swipe right and answer the phone before the call is missed. Bakugou steadies himself, leans against the railing and puts his cell up to his ear. He answers gruffly: “Hello?”

“Hey Bakugou.” He takes notice of your use of his last name - he was expecting you to call him ‘Katsuki’, just as you’ve always done. His eyebrows knit together in disappointment.

“I don’t mean to call so late,” he can hear shuffling on your end, it sounds like you’re pacing around the house, “I know you’re always asleep at this time but I just had to do it before my nerves got the best of me.” You admit sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck as you smile to yourself softly. “I saw you called me around a week ago and I just wanted to see what you wanted? There was no voicemail or text, so I assumed that you maybe called by mistake? It’s okay if you did, I just wanted to double check you know?” You’re talking a mile a minute, rambling on and on as your nerves are set aflame by your embarrassment and fear. You’ve walked around Shinsou’s bedroom countless times, your heart racing in absolute dread at your decision. Why did you do this? Why did you call late at night? Why did you call him? You laugh uneasily, waiting for an answer and preparing for the worst.

“I called ‘cause I missed you.” You almost drop your phone in sheer shock, but you manage to compose yourself before your voice betrays your surprise.

You remain silent and he sucks in a breath, trying his best to calm himself down as he waits for you to answer. His palms won’t stop sweating, covering his cracked cell phone in glycerin laced sweat as he paces back and forth the rooftop from one end to the next. He feels like throwing up, and a small voice in his head urges him to hang up the phone before he makes more of a fool out of himself. But he stands his ground - he’s not leaving this call until you know how he feels. He hates opening up to others but you’re different, you’re special to him and by God he’s going to prove it to you.

“I’m sorry?” You ask for confirmation, not wanting to misunderstand. You hear a small ‘tch’ in response.

“Haaah? You not listening? I said,” he puts extra emphasis on the last part and he’s speaking so close to the phone that it’s almost like he’s next to you speaking directly into your ear, “that I missed you.” You both grow silent, listening to the sound of the other’s breathing for what seems like an eternity. The air is still rife with tension, but you smile - wide and beaming in total joy. Bakugou missed you. Just like you missed him. You feel comfortable being a little more familiar with him now that he’s confirmed for you that he’s not messing with you and you’re relieved that you’re able to keep your pride intact after you hang up the phone.

“I’m going to be perfectly honest. I wasn’t expecting that, Bakugou.” You give a small giggle and he smiles without realizing it. He’s missed your laugh, and he can imagine the way your nose crinkles slightly when you chuckle, how your eyes used to shine when he would make you laugh. “I’m surprised though - the great Katsuki Bakugou missing ‘lil ole me?”

“What, am I not allowed to be upfront ‘bout it? ‘M not gonna lie and say that I didn’t.” He huffs, slightly annoyed at your reaction. Your tone is teasing and half of him hates it while the other half is grateful for your reaction.

“I missed you too, Katsuki.” You say it, and it’s true. It comes out so naturally that it makes you smile with content. You do miss Bakugou. He closes his eyes and replays it in his mind.

‘I missed you too, Katsuki.’ He loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, sweet and soft just like he remembers. He can envision you lying next to him in bed, your legs entangled in the cream colored sheets as you drift in and out of sleep, running your fingers through flaxen spikes, his arms wrapped around your waist as he snores softly laying his head down on your chest. He’s indescribably happy that you missed him too.

“Look I-”

“So I wanted to-” You both speak at the same time, cutting the other off. You giggle softly. “You can go first Katsuki. Tell me: why have you been calling me?” He inhales deeply, preparing to pour his heart out to you under the starry sky. You lie back on Shinsou’s bed, the cool sheets meeting with your warm skin as you wait for the blonde man to answer.

“I wanted to hear your voice. I honestly thought you wouldn’t pick up or return my calls, so I was content with thinking I’d just hear your voicemail message. I had been trying to call you for days. I know you’re mad and you have every right to be, but I just...I want to talk to you. I want to talk about what happened, ‘bout us. I miss you,” he says without hesitation causing you to take in a breath in surprise, “so much. I didn’t think I’d miss someone like I miss you. I want to talk about what happened, what I did, and make it up to you. I want you back in my life, even if it’s not how we used to be before.”

You can hardly believe that you’re talking to Bakugou - prideful, arrogant, ruthless Bakugou who never opens his heart to anyone, not even you. He’s selfish in everything: with work, with love, and with you. He cares so much about being the number one Hero that it consumes him. You haven’t forgotten the cancelled dates when he stays in late at work to get another case wrapped up so it would boost his ratings, or the nights where you fell asleep on the couch waiting for him to get home when he would work late. Nor have you forgiven the days when you would cook him dinner only to find it untouched when you return home, or when he spends his days off training or hanging out with the Bakusquad rather than staying in with you.

But this Bakugou in front of you? He’s vulnerable, baring his heart and soul to you as he lets you know exactly how he feels. Instantly, the bad times leave your mind and you instead look back at all the good memories he’s given you over the two years you’ve known him: His amazing cooking on nights he wants to spoil you for working hard, the scent of caramel he leaves behind after he works out in the living room, the fierce kisses he left you with before he heads off to work. The way he lets you hold him gently, the way he lets you see him in his most unguarded state. The way he made you feel so loved, so cared for.

However, that doesn’t make you forget what he’s put you through the past month.

You still remember the way your heart shattered when you found that unknown lingerie set in your bedroom, and the way your heart ached when you saw Bakugou with his arm around Camie’s waist. Your grip tightens on your phone and you breathe in deep. You love Bakugou, but he needs to atone for what he’s done if he wants to be in your life again. You sit up on Shinsou’s bed, hugging your knees close to your chest.

“Listen Bakugou - I want to forgive you, I really do. But some of the things you did,” you feel a dull pang in your chest as you envision him holding another woman, “really hurt me. And it’s made me believe that I can’t trust you.” He grimaces, imagining how you must have looked seeing him at the award ceremony with another woman. He cards a hand through his blonde locks, scarlet eyes half lidded in disappointment. “But…” you trail off, and he perks up slightly.

“I don’t want to lose you. You’ve been a big part of my life, and I care about you. I’m willing to talk things out with you if you promise that you’ll take my concerns seriously, okay?” There’s no hesitation this time.

“I promise. Baby, I don’t want to lose you again.” Your eyes widen in shock, and Bakugou quickly coughs to distract you. “Er, sorry.” You giggle and he swells with pride at the noise, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“S’okay. I’ll let it slide this time since you’re so cute.” Bakugou is beside himself in a cocktail of emotions: are you flirting with him? You can’t help but tease him, imagining him turning beet red in embarrassment. Your heart leaps with happiness at how he calls you ‘baby’, but your pride and dignity stop you before you get ahead of yourself: Bakugou has much making up to you before you even think of jumping back into a relationship with him.

“But I think we should have this conversation in person, it’ll be easier. I’m gonna be pretty busy for the next few weeks or so, work and school’s been crazy and I’ve been looking for a new apartment.”

“Eye Bags told me you were looking for a new place to live.”

“Oh, you saw ‘Toshi? Hope he didn’t give you too much trouble. He can be a bit, ah, protective at times.” Katsuki scoffs to himself. ‘Yeah, he’s protective of you ‘cause he’s in love with you’ he thinks, but doesn’t say anything out loud. He may not exactly like Shinsou, but he’s not about to share his secret with you. “Anyways, how about I give you a call when I’m free? We can get together when I’m not swamped with responsibilities.”

“I’d like that.” This call has gone a lot better than he could’ve possibly hoped, and the promise of seeing you again, in person makes his heart soar. He can’t stop himself from beaming, happiness exuding from every pore.

“Alright then, it’s a date. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Have a good night Katsuki.” He gives his goodbyes and hangs up the phone, turning to overlook the cityscape. He can’t stop smiling - you’re really giving him a chance. He’s going to work his hardest to make you feel loved, to make up for everything he’s done and to win your heart again. He won’t lose.

He feels his phone vibrate in his hand, and it’s a message from you.

From: Y/N

Hey Katsuki! It was nice talking to you again. I’m glad we had this little talk...I think I’ll be free two weeks from now on that Friday. Can you meet me then? I’ll let you pick a place to eat, but it better not be too spicy or I won’t be able to eat anything. Let me know, okay?

He quickly responds.

To: Y/N

Got a place in mind. Has mild stuff too. I’m free that day, text me your new address and I’ll pick you up.

He sees the three dots appear and stops typing, waiting for your response.

From: Y/N

Sounds good! Make sure to drive safe kay? Last time I thought I was going to die being in the car with you.

Katsuki smiles as he types up a quick response and makes his way back to his friends downstairs - he spends the rest of the night texting you about anything and everything. He can’t wait to see you again.

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

Shinsou is so grateful that Todoroki is rich - he’s currently drowning in his sorrows at the bar in the luxurious apartment that Shoto calls home. He doesn’t want to see anyone else and he wants to go home, but home is where you are and he doesn’t want to see you either. How can he after coming to the realization he did tonight?

He’s in love with his best friend.

And not only is he in love with you, but he knows that you’re still in love with Bakugou. In his mind, he can’t hold a candle to the Explosion Hero - Bakugou is a high ranking, high paid Hero with legions of fans. He is good looking and even though Shinsou thinks his personality is ass, you seem to be perfectly fine with it. On the other hand, Shinsou is a relatively unknown moderately paid Hero with confidence issues. He hates this part of himself - you always tell him to be kinder to himself and to believe in his abilities but he just can’t help it. He feels so inadequate compared to Bakugou. How can he even think of confessing to you when he can’t even keep you happy?

‘What’s the point of telling her’ he thinks to himself ‘when she won’t ever see me as more than a friend?” The thorns of self doubt dig into Shinsou’s heart and mind. He would rather pine for you for eternity than lose you - you’ve always been there for him as his rock, his pillar of support. If he loses you, he crumbles. But at the same time, how can he live with this secret? Will he spend the rest of his life looking for you in other women, imagining it's your hands he’s holding, your lips he’s kissing, your body that is sleeping next to him in bed? Will he walk you down the aisle at your wedding to Bakugou, seeing how beautiful you look in your white gown while he wishes he could be your groom?

So here lies the dilemma of Hitoshi Shinsou: confess to his best friend that he is utterly head over heels in love with her and risk losing her all together or say nothing and watch her fall in love with someone else.

He doesn’t know what to do or think, and that’s why he downs shot after shot of tequila, feeling the burn of alcohol down his throat and the pleasurable buzz in his fingertips. His phone vibrates and he sees it’s a message from you.

From: Y/N

Hey ‘Toshi! Are you okay? Need me to come rescue you from social interaction yet? :)

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t want to hear from you or speak to you. You’ll just make his problem worse. A part of him fills up with anger - why can’t you tell that he’s in love with you? The things you two do together is way past the point of being friends: the cuddling, the forehead kisses, the hugs, the sleeping in the same bed - do you truly not see how he feels?

He knows it’s selfish of him to say, and it’s wrong of him to feel this way. You still see those actions as friendly because you’ve always been that way with Shinsou. He’s the one who has twisted it into something romantic, longing for you with every touch. Aching for your presence in his life, wondering what your lips would feel like on his. He responds back in resentment, alcohol fueling his discontent.

To: Y/N

Don’t need you to come. Staying night at Shoto’s. Don’t wait up.

The message is curt and short. He feels so incompetent - he loathes this feeling of not being good enough. ‘It’s no wonder she loves Bakugou - why would she love you? You have a villain’s quirk, a meager apartment, a moderate paycheck. Why would she choose you when she has a better option?’ He thinks to himself, self-hatred poisoning his mind. His phone dings, and as expected, you’re texting him back.

From: Y/N

What’s wrong ‘Toshi? You seem off thru text...are you okay?

To: Y/N

I told you, I’m fine. Leave me alone for the night, don’t wanna talk to you.

He sends his final message and sees you immediately start typing back - but he’s through with this conversation. He puts his phone on do not disturb and leaves it on the bar countertop, grabs his beer and makes his way to Izuku, Uraraka, Tsuyu and the others. As soon as he leaves, his phone flashes with a missed call from you.

#bnha x female reader #bnha x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x female reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #mha x reader #my writing

153 notes · View notes

kreidewaltz · 3 years

Note

skyblue + thorns + tsukishima <3 congrats sm on 200 luv ily

COTTAGECORE DREAM | T.K.

about. he knows you're exhausted from all the work you're doing. he decided to bring you to a flower field and he thought he might fall in love all over again.

word count. 1.6k

genre & warnings. fluff, timeskip, comedy, established relationship, mentions of overworking, teeny tiny suggestive.

author's note. i was abt to make this angst but changed the last minute >< sorry for getting to this vv late pls enjoy this bc he's done w all the angst we're giving him he says <3 not prfr as usual okay

“be careful, dumbass.” he expected you to frown at his choice of words, instead you give him a wide smile before doing dances in the middle of the flower field. he pushes his glasses up to his nose to distract himself since he hears the wild beating of his heart. a gasp leaves your lips when your hand touches the different kinds of flowers and you get enchanted when you look at them closely. the azaleas are your favorite because of the bright color it brings to the field and it blends in beautifully. when your boyfriend mentions you’re going here, the hitachi seaside park, it felt like the worries and problems stacking up in your life disappeared for a moment.

you grabbed your blue instax camera and took pictures of the flowers dancing with the wind and took a picture of your boyfriend under the bright sun. you move the polaroid for a few minutes before hiding it in your tote bag before running through the field and imagine as if you were on a music video. he shoved his hands in his pockets, watching you get exhilarated with a smile dancing on his lips. he trails behind you and glance at the tulips few meters from him. he thinks of picking it but he didn't want to cause worry in the field that's suppose to distract you from work. he recalls the trouble he's forced to go through with you since you became a little reckless but he has no regrets, he's done those things with you after all.

"kei! come here!" you wave your hands while he chuckles to himself before taking large strides towards you. you loop your arms together, walking around the field which looks amazing when you're in it. we should come here again, you noted.

a part of you is relieved that he thought of going here with you to unwind from everything. you recall the time he carried you in bridal style and covered you with blankets, with that you learned that you have no one to blame but yourself. his preposition began when you keep doing that one thing he tells you not to—overworking then excuse it as a way to be productive.

he wasn’t supposed to find you like this.

he wasn’t supposed to see papers and pens scattered around your desk, the cup of coffee in your coaster that he never saw empty in the time he checked up on you. “kei, ten minutes!” you pleaded with a pout on your lips and look at him, your voice laced with desperation because you really needed to finish this email tonight or as your friend quotes, you’re damned. you rub your hands together and shut your eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t protest or flick you in the forehead. your boyfriend sighs in defeat before going back to your shared bedroom, a joyful aura surrounding your face when he didn’t react violently.

your co-worker messaged you earlier asking about the client’s response about the presentation he did a few days prior. he spams you with messages asking why it is taking so long to hear about the response and while you’re typing, you remembered your conversation with him last friday. you were supposed to email the client and provide him basic information about the presentation and add the link so he can thoroughly look at it. for once, oikawa wasn’t the irresponsible one between the two of you and you swear he’s not going to let you forget about this. damn oikawa, you curse in your head before stretching your arms.

you shoot him a text saying i’ll send it tonight and add emoticons even though it contradicts on what you’re feeling right now. you went through your emails and drafted what you wanted to say, the link, and double checked if there are grammatical mistakes and whatnot. when you’re sending an email to a client without checking the message and the information, it lacks decency and poor time management, that’s what you tell yourself.

luckily when you overwork you don’t do it for weeks but you force your work and deadlines on a day. when he heard you saying this, you hear his caring boyfriend scolding as you call it and flicks your forehead with a frown on his face but you got a glimpse of his lips twitching afterwards. while you’re mentally panicking on how to finish the email that reaches your standards, tsukishima is laying down, staring at the ceiling with his hand running on the (your) empty side of the bed, looking for your warmth. he misses your gentle touch when you draw miscellaneous shapes on his back.

he hopes you get yourself together and actually takes care of you but he doubts you’ll do that, you’re stubborn and prioritize work over yourself. he slowly sits up and grabs a pillow to put in between his legs before opening his phone, thinking of what to say that’ll get you out of your desk. he tries to remember an activity or a place that you’ve mentioned because he misses seeing you being happy without worrying about deadlines or your co-workers. after looking around the room he sees the tulips he gave a month ago, looking bright and healthy since you insisted on not letting the flowers die. ah i’ve got it she’ll like this, he thought of a place he knows you’ll enjoy and begins to search on his phone, knowing he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

“hey, c’mere for a second.” your boyfriend rests his hands around your shoulders while you hum, your eyes going back and forth to your laptop and the papers around your desk. he knows you wouldn’t budge so he propped his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his long arms around you. “don’t be a brat.” he whispers too close to your ear which makes you pause on typing and look away because now you’re only thinking about how close he is and the way his voice gets low.

“consider this as your break, you dork.” he lightly flick your forehead before leading you to the room and the way his face turned to a serious one after locking the door raised suspicions in your head. he grabs the wooden stool and sat there while you’re on the edge of the bed, wanting to know his intentions for locking the two of you. “i’m thinking of going out tomorrow,” he started off gently, and right now he waits for your—

“what about my work?”

“ah ah, stop talking about work, idiot.” he effectively shuts you up when he rests his finger above your lips and when your shoulders slump and let out a sigh, he knows he’s got your full attention. he pushes his glasses up to his nose to focus himself and clears his throat to continue. he’s getting distracted with the way you look adorable with lounge wear.

“we’ll go to the hitachi seaside park, to get your mind off work and stuff…” you couldn’t hide your enthusiasm and squeal repeatedly while moving your feet around the air. the fondness you have for him never decreases but it grew more and more, but you don’t mind at all. your first reaction was to jump at him and wrap your arms around him but seeing the stool he’s sitting on, you didn’t want to risk having injuries. he remembered, you thought while he looks to the side and act nonchalant about it, but the faint redness to his ears going to his neck failed his cover. you opted to grab the dinosaur plush sitting quietly on the bed and lightly hit him with it, convincing him to let loose. the two of you made eye contact and mouthed thanks and your eyes full of sincerity is more than enough for him. he holds your hand and gives it two squeezes, his way of saying no problem, i got you.

and we ended up here.

“babe, i know i’m great and i’m flattered but,” you couldn’t continue to talk as laughter bubbles up your chest and clutch your stomach to laugh out loud. he looks like a long stick a few meters away and you walk back to him, twirling so your dress can spin gracefully. he quickly looks at you when he realized what he did, one is stare at you for too long, and two he got caught. you bat your eyelashes to tease him while he curses under his breath.

you take a quick glance at your bag to see if the polaroid showed the picture already and your mouth parted seeing the result. the picture looks ethereal, the left side too bright because of the sun, the colors of nature and your boyfriend tying everything together. after hiding it in your bag, you offer your hand.

“let’s go! don’t leave me there.” a pout coming to your lips before intertwining your fingers together and walking around the field in silence. this is what he needed after the games he had, a day to indulge in whatever he wanted, what you wanted. earlier, you're on your favorite restaurant and got a box of desserts to enjoy when you got home. you’re pulling him where the narcissuses flowers are gathered.

“mhm, hey give me your camera.” you hum to his question, completely focused on the narcissuses. he presses the button beside the camera and tries to find the angle he’s looking for, he also wears the strap to prevent it from falling. it’s his gift to you in the first place. he takes a few steps to the side and angles the camera to his chest and when he takes a look at it, he wants that scene imprinted on his memory forever. your hands almost cupping the white petals, and pretend to blow it and giggles slip from your lips, thinking you look hilarious. the sky behind you creates a happy yet calming atmosphere to the picture, and there’s one thing left to do—

click.

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