#my depression wasn’t that bad so I came out
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Frustration
You've got feelings for someone and you have no idea how to process them, let alone deal with them.
Angsty fluff and smutty frustration turn into a satisfying conclusion.
✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩
Rafayel x reader/MC, use of y/n, mention of Xavier and Zayne, masturbation, cussing, smut, smutty smut smut, praise kink, light master play, a little begging, fluff, angsty, unrequited feelings, doubt, cute stuff too
If you are under 18, please refrain from reading this. You have been warned, continuing to read this means you have ignored my warning.
✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩
It had been a long succession of weeks. Too long. If it wasn’t missions, it was training. If it wasn’t those, it was mountains of paperwork. You had barely gotten any downtime lately, and you were fraying at the seams. It kept you busy, at least.
But when Captain Jenna offered you some downtime, you silently fought it. It would be only two days off, but it meant you would be alone with yourself. With your thoughts. So only to keep from being put on suspension, you took it. You figured you could do some self care, an errand or two, some tv…it won’t be that bad, right?
The first day was going fine, you had a long hot bath, soaking away your worries. You even slept in a bit, and you had plans to get food delivered as well. You were gonna pamper yourself and take good care of yourself this weekend. You swore that was the goal.
You had been avoiding this much time off from Hunting because you were avoiding a much bigger issue. One you were far from ready to admit to yourself, let alone anyone else...
This was especially because you had been feeling…frustrated lately. You kept stealing glances at your attractive friend Zayne, who was also your doctor. And your coworker Xavier was not ignored, either. But when you got anywhere near your second boss, Rafayel, you would freeze up and just shut down.
You hadn’t even been with anyone in years, and even then it had been a tame relationship that only lasted a couple months, at most.
So…you were just a little pent up.
You got out your secret stash of toys, just a couple vibrators, a dildo, some lube, the usual suspects. You had been itching for some pleasure down there, and to be honest, you had almost wanted to call someone over to help…
See but, you knew full well it would likely be taking advantage…you knew you could ask Xavier to do almost anything. But in knowing that, the guilt that tugged at your gut made you rethink it every time.
And Zayne would just go along with things to help you, not that he would complain. But he only saw you as a little sister, if anything. So you felt guilt, there, too…
And the only other viable option, well…you were avoiding that altogether. Forever. Buried. Banned. No more.
But no matter, you knew all your own buttons, you wouldn’t have a difficult time of this, even if it had been a while…this’d be a nice time to reconnect with yourself, right?
…
That was THREE HOURS AGO…
You were panting, flushed and frustrated, fingers aching, lips dry, sweat covering your body…and it was like you weren’t able to dip your toe into the water, let alone take that dive into the pool.
You were so frustrated, you started to cry. You were nearly sobbing, your nerves were officially wrecked, and you were ready to just get up and drink all the liquor you kept in your kitchen. At least that way you could relax.
So when your phone rang, you just dejectecly picked it up without a thought. Your voice was hoarse and came out shaky from the attempted masturbation, and the sobs that kept jumping up your throat like frogs from not getting anywhere…among other feelings that kept wrenching your thoughts away from your pleasure.
“…Hello?”
“Y/n! I’m so glad to finally hear from you…you’ve been avoiding me lately, I was getting depressed, you know. It’s not nice to avoid someone so handsome…”
Oh no…not him.
“…Rafayel…what do you want?” Your voice was shaky and hoarse, but cold.
“Wow, do you think so little of me? I just wanted to check up on you on your day off, since we haven’t had a chance to talk in forever…I don’t want a thing. Scout’s honor.” You could almost see him making the gesture of raising his hand as if he were a junior scout in your head. You tried not to smirk at how dumb it looked.
“…Wait, how did you know it was my day off??” You turned to look at your phone, as if to make sure you hadn’t turned on a video call.
“Well a little fishie told me, of course! But that’s besides the point, y/n… you sound bad, did you catch something?” Concern could be heard in his tone, and you almost wanted to scream from frustration, because your patience with him was beyond thin right now.
“I’m. Fine. Just trying to relax, Rafayel.” Anger tinged your response as you still lay, naked, sweaty and annoyed, in your stuffy room. But your voice was getting worse from all the talking, so he just heard you denying you were sick.
If he dared to suggest- “I’m coming over. You sound awful, I’ll make sure to take care of you, Miss Bodyguard.”
“No! Rafayel don’t you da-“ click…
“…Fuck. I am so screwed.” You wonder if you can relocate your entire apartment in a matter of minutes. But then you sit up and reality splashes cold water on that dream, too.
You know Xavier is busy taking over missions while you have the two days off, and apparently Zayne is out of town at some conference of some kind. You have no backup. You have no one to step in if things turn south. You quickly dial Thomas before your mind has time to catch up.
“…Hello? Y/n? Is everything alright?”
“Thomas you have to help. Stop him, he’s headed for my apartment as we speak.”
Thomas could read the situation like he was breathing. He was used to you calling and begging him to stop Rafayel from doing who-knows-what.
“Your voice sounds bad, y/n, you should probably be resting if you’re sick…plus, you know Rafayel, he’ll most likely just order in some takeaway and leave once you pass out. He’s not good at taking care of anyone.”
Yes. You knew this. But right now you were anything but tired, let alone sick. If he caught on to what you had been up to to cause your voice to go like this…fuck. You had to hurry. Your bed was covered in toys and damp from the sweat and lube. “Okay Thomas I gotta go bye!”
You gave him no chance to speak and hung up on him. You rushed to put on clothes, shoved your sweaty sheets in your laundry hamper, and struggled to put fresh ones on. You had moments, maybe. If Rafayel drove like he normally does, then you were almost out of time.
That’s when you noticed them again. The toys. You didn’t have time to clean them, so you couldn’t put them away. That’s when you heard the first knock. Fuck.
You shoved them under your bed in a rush and made sure your pajamas didn’t smell too bad…you hadn’t had a chance to get laundry done, yet…which was tomorrow’s main attraction, unfortunately.
Thankfully, they smelled of detergent still, if only faintly. So you should be good.
You start padding over to the door, as more knocks begin to sound. “I’m coming, I’m coming! Gods, Rafayel, calm down…” You open the door to find the man smirking confidently down at you, a bag in hand, and one of his classic outfits with his chest somewhat exposed greeting you.
Normally, the sight would make you snort. But your nerves were still heightened, so you only managed a slight blush instead. “Y/n, you look like you have a fever, here…let me help, okay?”
Your irritation seems to know no limits today, as you try to slam the door in his face, but with no real power behind it, he catches the door and lets himself in, chuckling a little. “I see you’re in good spirits, then.”
You glare at him as he sets the small bag on the counter in your kitchen, and then goes to your side to place his hand against your forehead.
For some reason you don’t flinch like you normally would, which tips him off that something’s up. Instead you blush a little more, looking away. “…I’m fine, Raf.” The abbreviation to his name is to infer annoyance, distance. But he takes a small step closer instead.
“You feel warm…and sweaty, you could have a virus, y/n.” He turns his gaze from you to glance around. “Where do you keep your thermometer?” You grumble at him a quiet “don’t have one.” Which you know Zayne would lose his mind over. But that’s future you’s problem, if it ever gets out.
“Hmmm…guess we’ll just have to do this, then.” He leans down and presses his forehead to yours. “Ah! Rafayel, what are you doing?!” You back up defensively.
“Just making sure. Yeah, you’re hot. Let’s get something to cool you down... ice cream? No, you don’t eat that when you’re sick… I’ll order some porridge. You like abalone, right?” “…No, not really…” he looks at you in shock, as if you had just insulted his entire species.
“Well you’re going to learn to like it. And I’ll get some tea started. I brought some, and a few other things.” He waves his hand as if to shoo you to the living room area. You glower at him in a way that would make plants die.
He ignores you, starting the electric kettle and pulling out a canister from the small bag he brought. You were curious what else was in there, to be honest...
You slumped on the sofa and fumed a little, but by the time Rafayel brought you some tea, you wandered into daydreams instead.
Mostly ones involving Xavier or Zayne. Not this annoying little fish who clung to you like bad luck.
He set the tea on the coffee table in front of you before snapping his fingers in your face. You hated when people did that. You looked up at him slowly, the lewd thoughts that had made you blush to yourself now fading, along with the color in your cheeks.
Your eyes settled into a glare and you quickly grabbed his hand and yanked him down to sit next to you. “Don’t. Ever. Do that. Again.” With every word you pinched his arm. Hard.
He yelped at the first one, then just pouted as he rubbed the spots you had attacked. “I was calling your name for a while…I wanted to know if you had any honey.” For a moment your mind flashes to a lewd thought again, someone drizzling honey on your naked body and licking it all off.
You blushed and looked away. “Top cupboard near the fridge. …Green lid.” He sighs and gets up to bring it to you, and you felt a pang of guilt for that. He didn’t deserve so much of your ire, after all, it wasn’t his fault…
He serves you the tea carefully, after adding a spoonful of honey to the cup. The steam fills your senses, the smell is floral, like jasmine, but with citrus and a deeper, unknown scent. Then something that smells like the ocean fills you with a contentment for a moment, before you realize it’s most likely his scent you’re swooning over. Shit.
You take the cup and carefully sip the tea, staying silent. The awkward chill in the room fills you with dread. This is when you make bad choices, usually. That or when there’s…wait, is there alcohol in this?!
“Rafayel, did you put booze in this??” You look at him with incredulity before he gives you a slight grin. “It’ll help your fever. I saw you had some whiskey on the counter and figured it might be a good idea. Don’t worry, it’s not a lot.” He takes the cup from you to set it down.
You feel like a serious talk is about to happen, and you’re not ready to deal with some sort of awkward conversation with your…boss. You stand up abruptly. “I’ll be right back, just need to use the restroom.” You excuse yourself and rush to shut the door behind you. You let out a sigh of relief.
The alcohol is already affecting you, you forgot to eat today, and with all the energy you burned through earlier trying to get yourself off, your body was already starting to feel loose and a little swimmy. Not good.
You had to splash some cold water on your face several times, and silently talk yourself down from a ledge you were dangerously close to jumping off of at full throttle.
He may be a nuisance and frustrating and capricious and downright annoying with how he knew he affected women…but he was a man. A man here. Now. In your moment of need.
No! No y/n! You will not give in to temptation! He would never let you live it down after he rejects you! He would make you suffer for ever even thinking such things!
More splashing from the sink could be heard from the other side of the door. Rafayel was bored, so he started poking his nose where it wasn’t supposed to be. Starting with your room. Because he’s naughty like that.
Hmmm. She has a lot of stuffed animals for such a tough girl. And she doesn’t know how to make her bed, apparently. Oh look, she has photos on her desk of her frie-
Rafayel stops short at a recent photo of you and Xavier, both of you smiling with his arm around your shoulders casually. You were both at the arcade, and he had just won you the special edition plushie that was now sitting next to it on your desk.
He sulkily turns to leave the room before he sees anything else that will sour his mood. But before he gets too far, he sees a bright blue vibrator that had carelessly rolled out from under your bed in your rush earlier.
“Oho…what’s this?” He picks it up, and it’s covered in lube, still. He smirks as it all starts to click. Your irritation, your voice…your scent. He had been wondering why you smelled so amazing today…now he knew. And he was going to tease the life out of you for being so cold to him earlier.
He settles back down on the sofa before you can catch him sneaking around, and he puts on his most casual and bored of expressions.
You emerge from the bathroom ready to send him home, when he looks up from his phone and gives you one of his heartstopping smiles. You still don’t entirely know why, but it had always managed to make you pause, if not blush.
And right now all your efforts to calm yourself down were in vain. He glanced back down at his phone and tapped something. “The food’ll be here soon, is there anything you’d like to do while we wait? I also ordered myself something, since I figure I should stay until you’re feeling a little better.” He smirked at his phone as you stared.
“Rafayel, you can go home, I’m fine.” “Nope, you clearly have a fever. You were just trying to cool down in there, were you not? And your voice is still hoarse. I’m not going anywhere.” He looked up at you and smirked more. You stomped over and tried to grab his arm to pull him off your sofa, but he was too quick for you, and simply pulled you onto his lap.
“Don’t worry about getting me sick, I’m perfectly healthy.” He brushes some wet strands of hair out of your face as you blush and glare at him. “Just leave, Raf. I’m fine, I just…uh…was out all last night singing karaoke. So I sound like this.” You prayed he bought it.
Not a chance.
He wrapped an arm around you idly as he kept doing something on his phone. You were growing impatient with him. The alcohol was making your need only grow stronger, warming your insides and making your decision making skills less than ideal right now.
You weren’t drunk, but you were definitely slightly impaired. So when you finally noticed his fingers softly rubbing circles into your hip while you sat on his lap, you suddenly shot up and put some distance between the both of you.
“Hmm? Is something wrong?” He looks up as if he hadn’t just been touching you intimately. Not even Zayne was that daring. This fish was trouble…
“I need you to go, Raf. I’ve got a lot of chores to do around here, and you’re in the way.” Your tone is cold, and you try to stand firm, despite your slight tremor from your nerves. He only grins in response.
“Let me know and I’ll do them for you while you rest. Just go in your room and lay down for a bit, I can manage.” He gives you a softer smile now, and some part of your heart of steel starts to warm.
But you shake your head to get those fuzzy thoughts out of your mind. He was annoying, remember? All that charm was an act. He was a renowned lady killer, he was just trying to put the moves on you.
“I want you to please leave.” You put your hands on your hips and you stand firm against his persuasion.
That’s when he brings in the big guns. He stands up, almost slowly, deliberate with each step as he approaches you, forcing you to look up into his eyes to try and stare him down.
He places a hand on your cheek and gives you a sad smile. “…You really hate me that much?”
It’s super effective.
Your heart bobs in a dark storm of doubt and guilt, as you try to right yourself in these dangerous waters you’ve found yourself in. You stare up at him, and suddenly a blush blooms on your cheeks.
“…I don’t hate you.” You look away from him, too embarrassed to maintain eye contact now. And, after a long, intense pause…
“…It’s okay... you can stay.”
His heart actually flutters at that. He lifts your chin to look at him again, and he places the softest kiss to your cheek. But you don’t flinch or pull away. You just let it happen.
You almost want to see what he’ll try to do, since he’s clearly up to something…
Rafayel is suddenly drawn to his phone again, a gentle ding notification alerting him to the food now outside your door. He lets his hand slip away from you and goes to retrieve it.
The tension is still there, even after he brings in the food. He’s silent as he sets the bag down on your dining table, and then he looks at you. “…You’re watching me.” His tone is of curiosity, not accusation.
You blush and quickly look away. Before you can summon your barriers around your heart once more, Rafayel slips next to you, silence and stealth being all the easier with you like this. He places a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the table.
“Come, eat it before it gets cold…” your shoulders stiffened at his touch, and you tried to sus out what was going on. You could sense something, but your mind couldn’t figure out what, precisely…
You let him guide you to the table, as he gets out some dishes to serve you some porridge. “They were all out of abalone, so I ordered oyster and scallop. But I’m guessing you’ll prefer it.” He chuckles a little as he sets a full bowl in front of you.
“Why oysters…why not just... chicken?” You look a little bewildered, but take a bite anyways. It’s good, the porridge tastes refreshingly savory and faintly sweet, with a salty oceanic taste you could never mistake. It’s honestly amazing, as you had been meaning to eat earlier…
Rafayel smiles with his boyish charm, sitting down beside you at the square table, serving himself some as well. “It smells so good, I can save the noodles for later. I’ll have some, too.”
He lets out a low, deep moan as he takes the first bite. As if it was the most delicious food he had ever eaten. “C-c’mon Raf, it’s not that good…” you blush and try to secretly adjust yourself in your chair as you’re already struggling to keep from dampening your shorts further.
But he sees all of it. And he gives you a grin. “Maybe, but I haven’t eaten all day, so this is soooo good…” he makes another moan as he takes another bite. This causes your insides to twitch with want. You’re going to kill him.
This has to be deliberate.
And it is.
Before you finish your bowl, Raf has already finished his. He notices your slowed eating, and swiftly steals away your spoon. “You’re eating so slow…it’s not that bad, here I’ll feed you.” You blush immediately. “Rafayel don’t you da-“ a spoonful of porridge is put in your mouth in response.
You slowly chew and swallow, and without a word, another porridge-laden spoon is waiting for you. “Eat up…Miss Bodyguard.” He smirks at you while you silently eat.
After the last bite, he stands to start tidying the dishes and such. You’re still trying to figure out what he’s up to, as he starts to clean. He hums at first, then pauses.
“Y’know…oysters and scallops are sometimes considered an aphrodisiac...”
Oh. Fuck.
“W-what??” You start to sweat a little, as you stare at his back. He finishes washing and turns to smirk at you. Oh shit…he knows.
You start to panic, standing carefully and slowly backing away from him. “You really should clean up your toys when you’re done playing, y/n…” it takes him no time at all to catch you, grabbing your hand as you reflexively put it up to catch any incoming attacks.
His voice is low and his eyes that were once sparkling with concern and caring, are now dark with desire and want. You struggle a little before standing straight and glaring at him. “L-let me go, Rafayel. Just because I ate that doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything with you.”
“Not because you ate it, no…” his voice is husky and he leans down to whisper in your ear. “…But you’re already giving off even stronger pheromones than usual, and you’ve yet to actually stop me…miss Hunter.” he pauses to bring your attention to the fact that his other hand is now resting on your ass. It's true, if you really wanted, you could break his arm in three places and grab your gun while he reels...
“You’re horrible, Rafayel.” He smirks. “But you love me anyways.” His confidence is infuriating.
“I don’t love you.” “But you don’t hate me, either.” “Just because I don’t hate you doesn’t mea-get your hand off my ass, Rafayel!” Your voice rises and he gently slides his hand up to your waist, lifting your pajama shirt slightly in the process.
“Y/n, I know you think I’m annoying sometimes…but I’m not just reading into things that are illusions.” He looks into your eyes, dark and sensual, but also filled with a deep longing. “I’m not the only one here who sees this. You’re just always making excuses to avoid me lately…”
You look away at that, guilt and embarrassment all over your face. “…And I know it has nothing to do with your work, at least…not in the way you say it does. You’re dancing around the issue... Do you not see me as a potential partner?” He gently takes your cheek and turns you to face him again.
His eyes are filled with sadness, even the lust is a distant memory in those beautiful orbs now. “Do you truly only see me as a nuisance?” You try to look away, you don’t want to admit it. Not out loud. But his hand holds you firm, keeping you looking at him as he silently pleads for your answer.
“…I refuse to be another notch on your bedpost, Rafayel.” You shiver from the cold in your own voice, as you look down, your face pale. You admitted it, after all this time.
He paused for a long time, before he suddenly burst into a smile and held you against him. “Whatever made you think I was that kind of man, y/n?” You immediately blush at the embrace, confusion written all over your expression.
“W-what do you mean? All those parties…and those women…the magazines…” “Lies. All of it. And those women?” He leans in close and takes both your hands in his, before whispering in a husky voice. “…they only want what they can’t have.”
Your blush deepens at his confession, and you can’t look away anymore. “Y/n…I’m going to kiss you now. And if you don’t want that…I will respect your decision.” He pauses for a long time, both your faces are only centimeters apart.
But before he can move, after giving you plenty of time to process, you stand on tiptoe and give him a kiss first.
This fully grown man, this confident beacon of swagger…blushes deep red, to the point that his ears become pink.
“I…see.” He grins like a madman before grabbing hold of you and peppering kisses on anything he possibly can. Your cheek? Yes. Your lips? Absolutely. Your forehead? Do you even need to ask?
You start to giggle at him, and he stops after a few minutes to simply inhale your scent and hold you. “I will never give you reason to doubt me, y/n. I promise.” He looks into your eyes with his beautiful twilit-colored ones, and he smiles as if he had just won everything he had ever wanted.
Before you can say anything, he holds out his hand. “I swear to you, I will always love you, y/n…” he makes his hand into a tight fist for a moment, a silent prayer in his mind before he opens it, to reveal a small, blue fish swimming in front of you. You gasp and look at it in awe. “It is my heart. Take it, it’s yours.”
You carefully put out your hand, and when it swims onto your palm, it dissolves into a soft glow that lingers on your skin. “The ocean says that it is true…my promise will never be broken.” You look up at him and blush. “I…don’t have anything that special for you, Rafayel.” You look a little sad, as you say it.
He holds out his pinkie. It’s so childish…but so like him. You twine your pinkie with his and smile. “Don’t ever break this promise, then. I’ll be watching.” He says and gives you a little smirk. You nod seriously, but then can’t help but let the giddiness in your heart overwhelm you.
The months of fighting with your innermost thoughts might not be over, but you were no longer alone. If you had reason to fear, you knew, deep down, he would tell you the truth. He wasn’t a player, he wouldn’t betray you. He wouldn’t do something like that just for a one night fling.
After all that, you’re finally relaxed. You let him lead you to the sofa and sit down to let him kiss you more, and you return the affection in kind.
The kisses are soft, loving. He kisses your eyes, your nose, your chin. He kisses the top of your head, your hands, anything you’ll give him. You kiss his knuckles, then his lips, and his cheek. He bends down closer to let you kiss his forehead, then you start to trail down and before you know it he’s stolen your lips for a deep kiss.
His hand finds its way into your hair as you slowly climb onto his lap. The kiss deepens and his tongue is now exploring your mouth as you let out a soft moan. This. This is what you’ve been craving. You just wanted to hide somewhere safe from this, because even now, it feels dangerous…like a burning inside you that will never extinguish. It’s scary, but exhilirating.
When his other hand grabs hold of your ass again, you gasp and pull back to look into his eyes. “…Do you... want this? I can stop…” he blushes as he looks away. You can tell it would be a huge undertaking for him to stop now, but he would. For you.
So when you pull him by the back of his neck in for another deep, searing kiss, he knows. His hands no longer hesitate, as he fervently grabs hold of you and forces you to straddle his lap, then going under your shirt to play with your bare breasts.
You let out a moan into the kiss as you grind against him, already back on the edge, your want and lust taking over reason as your hands wrap around his biceps to steady yourself as you purposefully grind against his ever-hardening member, as it strains against his slacks.
He groans and pulls away from the kiss to gasp for air. He sucks in a sharp breath when you lean down to start licking his exposed collarbone. “Y/n…” he starts to buck his hips up against your dampened crotch, your pajama shorts soaked now as you are completely unwound from your inhibitions now.
The alcohol has mostly worn off, and all that remains is a hunger and longing that won’t be saited by just one round. You stop to look at his eyes. Yours narrow against his wide and curious ones, as you suddenly grind down and gasp. “I’m going to-ahhh…ride you for the rest of the day, Raf…are you ready?”
He lets out a loud groan and holds your hips still against him. “Nnnnnooot if you keep going at this pace, my love….” Your heart flutters at the pet name and you chuckle. “Then do you want to take the lead…my love?” He smirks and turns a bit so he can push you down onto the sofa.
You blush and quietly look up at him, as he hovers over you. “You know…the last few times I’ve seen you…it’s been driving me crazy. Your smell…your eyes…everything has become even more beautiful…” You try not to chuckle, but a little giggle escapes anyways. “Rafayel…there’ll be plenty of time for romance later…right now…” Your eyes darken and you fix him with a stare that could make a saint go into heat. “…I need you to fuck me.”
He lets out a growl as he buries his face into your neck, inhaling your wanton scent as he starts pulling your shorts to discover no panties. He pauses to smirk and dips a finger into your slit to feel how wet you are. “Could this…all be for me?” His breath still tickling your neck as you gasp.
“M-maybe…” your blush reaches your neck as he finishes tugging your shorts off, exposing your slick folds to the cold air of your living room, the light of the setting sun filling it with radiance, and delivering a halo around the both of you.
You let out a moan when he slips his fingers inside to make sure you’re loose enough for him, as he props his other elbow on the back of the sofa. He looks down at you as you writhe and make beautiful, sensual sounds under his diligent ministrations.
He can’t be bothered to smirk or feign confidence, as he slips his fingers out to lick the juices off them. “Good girl…so wet for me…so ready for my hard cock…” Once he finishes sucking his fingers clean, he moves to remove his pants, the large tent strains against the expensive fabric as he lets out a sigh of relief upon release.
When he slips out of all his clothes, just tossing his shirt on the floor with his pants and boxers, he sees you’ve followed suit with your shirt. His cock is a beast, which you would have never suspected with your curious glances in the past. Your blush reaching the tops of your breasts as he stares for a moment in the dazzling sunset pouring in.
The pause breaks the spell for a moment, and you tilt your head. “…Rafayel?” He snaps back and immediately pulls you by your thighs to him. “I swear I’ll eat your sweet cunt out many, many times tonight…but first…” He slides the head of his cock against your folds. “My master made a request of me…”
“M-master?” You gasp and let out a moan, but the word still feels slightly foreign. But he groans as he presses into you slowly before he can answer the unspoken meaning. “Y-yes…R-raf…” “Fffffuck y/n, you’re…s-so tight…”
He takes his time to settle inside, every inch of him buried within as he pants, all his focus is on making sure he doesn’t cum right that moment. It felt like it had been centuries, and he was like a teenager with his first time again.
So when you shift to get comfortable suddenly, he groans loudly, and you gasp as he holds your hips down to still you. His hands are firm, strong, as he starts to slowly move. Setting an agonizingly slow pace, as he’s filled you to near bursting with his throbbing heat.
You’re suddenly so close after only a few minutes of this slow pace, every full stroke brushing your sensitive nub, the sounds of your slick cunt sucking him in or reluctantly releasing him again and again turning you on so much. Your hands find their way to his forearms, gripping them urgently. “R-raf…s-so close…”
He hears your words through the deep haze of his concentration, and he decides to give you your dearly needed release finally. He stays seated fully inside, as he releases one of your hips to start rubbing your already tingling clit.
You try to bite onto your fist to hold back a scream as your orgasm finally hits you, but he grabs your hand before you can cover your mouth. You can’t muffle enough of it, as his name falls from your mouth again and again, gasping, screaming, shuddering, as your back arcs and he starts to thrust into you, helping you to ride out this elusive high.
“Fuck y/n, you’re taking me so good…you’re so beautiful, f-fuck I wanna make you cum so much…” he keeps thrusting, lost in the sight of you coming undone on his cock in the waning light. His thrusts get more intense as he gets close, his moans and whimpers fill the room as yours finally die down, your walls twitching and sticky around him as he increases the tempo.
“Raaaaffff…” his name a happy sigh as your high leaves you in the decadent afterglow of your first time with the one you’d longed for. So when he starts to cuss and say your name over and over again, like a chanted prayer, you’re overcome with a swelling feeling of affection in your heart.
This man is coming undone because of you, this man who so many wish they could possess, is giving himself to you and you alone.
“Fuck y/n…c-can’t…s-stop!!” His pace becomes erratic as his hips shiver, and he starts to chant your name under his panting breath in earnest, as he stares at you with his fucking gorgeous eyes, the last rays of sunset catching in them and entrancing you as he finally hits his limit.
“C-can…I cum…m-master…” his eyes are dark and pleading as he begs, his hips still thrusting into you as you let out little gasps and moans from the intensity. Without hesitation, you clearly say. “Cum for me, my pet.” He groans loudly as that releases him, he slumps a little to thrust finally in and out, as you feel his warmth spread inside. “F-fuck…y/n…” he finally finishes after the sunlight fades to darkness, and he falls forward to collapse on top of you.
You gently run your fingers through his beautiful purple hair, the darkness not changing how much you adored the color, as both of you let your breaths steady again. “…Good boy…” You gently stroke his cheek as you stare up at the dark ceiling, the streetlights barely adding any light to the room from below.
His hand grasps yours as he pulls it to him to kiss your palm, inhaling deeply. He was still drunk on your scent, your taste, your everything.
“Rafayel…is it too soon to say that... I love you?” Your voice sounds small and meek in the void that surrounds you both, lovers entwined. “…’Bout damned time, y/n.” His voice is hoarse now, a soft mumble against your breast, as he nuzzles it idly.
You both spend the night going through phases of deep romance, to wanton passion. Neither of you wanting to stop, even when dawn began to break and flood the window of your bedroom with a warm glow.
Instead you revelled in the sight of him haloed by the sun as he fucked you again, after having lost count. And he said a silent thanks to the Gods for blessing him with the sight of you beneath him, your body covered in his love bites, his kisses, and your face showing so much love and lust all at once.
✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩
a/n: this is the longest fic I've ever written, and it wasn't nearly as kinky as I had planned initially...(I swear there was supposed to be a lot more praise and master play originally)
I hope you enjoyed it, and if you have any requests, feel free to drop me an ask!
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel#fanfic#rafayel x mc#smut#lads smut#lads rafayel#fluff#fluffy fluff fluff#smutty smut smut#happy ending#neer writes
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#TW FOR DEPRESSIVE THOUGHTS DYSPHORIA SELF HARM ANXIETY#i’m doing. really bad right now. well not /really/ bad i guess#but really bad in comparison to how i’ve been doing for a while.#my dysphoria is out the roof and im feeling dysphoric about things that never bothered me before (like lack of facial hair)#but i know that if i take T without finasteride then my chances of hair loss are really fucking high based on both sides of my family#and i can’t handle that#but that means no facial hair for me.#and i got that feeling bc i saw a guy yesterday with curvy hips/ass and nicely shaped but he was still very masculine looking#bc he was strong and had a nice beard and “masc” tattoos#and then on top of dysphoria today my housemate came home a week earlier than what he told me so i wasn’t prepared to see another person#and i hate how uncomfortable i am being around other people but i just. am.#plus my job has cut my hours and i don’t even know if i’m gonna be able to afford bills and i have no savings bc i get paid crumbs#so now i’m worried i’m gonna have to get another job and i really don’t want one bc change terrifies me plus i’ll lose my health insurance#and everything feels out of my control and i’m just not okay and about half an hour ago i picked up my box cutter and got very#close to self harming for the first time in a couple of years and then had a breakdown (didn’t cut at least?) and now i’m here#just screaming into the void in an attempt to deal with it#anyways if you read this far i’m sorry. and also i love you /pl
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MAD MAN
A/N: he looked like a snack, his ce vibes were too strong to hold them back
base of the idea was by @harrysblackcoat
WORD COUNT: 1.3k
SUMMARY: You came to the game to forget about the massive fight you had with Harry a few days ago, but your alone time is soon interrupted by the man you've been trying to avoid.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
You weren’t planning to come today. Well, you were, until about four days ago, but then the whole ordeal happened with Harry and suddenly you didn’t want to do anything else than stay at home, cry or either sleep until you forget about the shit you both said.
It was nasty. You don’t even remember how it started, maybe it was because he got home too late, or was it because you couldn’t choose a restaurant again and it always drives him crazy.
You have no idea what started it, you only remember how bad it got. Screaming, shouting, saying the worst things you ever did and probably neither of you meant. But you said them and you can’t take them back.
Maybe packing your stuff and leaving wasn’t your best idea, but you needed time and space. Harry has been blowing your phone up ever since, but you feel like you need just a little bit more time away from him to think about… well, the two of you.
You’ve had the ticket for months and you didn’t have the heart to miss out on the game just because of what happened. So you pulled yourself out of your depression cave, aka your old apartment you still haven’t sold since moving in with Harry and came to the game. Now you’re sitting in your usual seat, waiting for it to start while trying your best to keep him out of your thoughts at least until the end.
Looking across the stadium you see the VIP section and immediately, you fail at not thinking about him, because you think of how he is the kind of man that would be standing there, sipping on something fancy and expensive.
Groaning you turn your attention to your drink, playing with the straw, but then you remember the time you explained to Harry why this is your favorite seat in the stadium.
“Okay, enlighten me, baby,” he smirked at you, pulling you to his lap after pushing himself away from his desk.
“It’s close to the exit, I can leave before the crowd gets moving, the toilet is 20 seconds away and the line is always short, because the one by the F stairs is more popular. And…” You peaked at him, checking if he was still listening and there he was, giving you his undivided attention with a cheesy smirk on his handsome face. “And the drinks are better in the buffet that’s behind.”
“Better?” he chuckled. “Baby, they are the same.”
“Nope,” you shook your head. “It’s less… watery.”
“Mm, if you say so,” he smirked and then kissed you, making you forget about what you were talking about just a moment ago.
You need to blink your tears away. You promised yourself you wouldn’t be crying during this game, that you wouldn’t think about how much you miss him and how even despite the fight you love him more than anyone.
You dig into your bag for a tissue, right when someone tries to squeeze past you to their seat. The tall man inches into the row, his long coat brushing your knees while you’re still elbow deep in your bag and you faintly register that he sits beside you.
“Here,” he deep voice speaks up beside you and you know who it is even before his hand moves into your view, holding out a tissue.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, taking the tissue without looking at him.
“Why do people come to football matches?” he asks back and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I’m here because you wouldn’t answer the phone.”
“That might mean that I don’t want to talk to you,” you casually reply, staring ahead of you.
Harry exhales sharply beside you and his knee presses against yours, making you gasp.
“Y/N, I hope you didn’t think I would just let you slip out of my hands like that, right? We need to talk.”
“And you thought a football game would be the best place for that?”
“This seems to be the only way to get you to talk to me, so yeah.”
“How did you even know I would be sitting here?”
“Because you told me this is your favorite seat.”
“I did not. I just told you I have one, I never told you it’s this one.”
You sit in silence for a bit, trying to figure out if maybe you did tell him the exact seat, but you get to the same point: you didn’t.
“I never told you, so how did you know?” you ask and finally look at him. His beauty strikes you, as always, the chiseled jawline, the slope of his nose, the curly lashes, he still takes your breath away.
He runs his tongue across his lips and then looks at you.
“The drink,” he then finally says.
“What?”
“The drink. It really is better here.” You watch him and he continues. “I tried… I tried them all in the stadium and it really is less watery.”
He tried them all. He went around the stadium and tried them all to figure out where you’re sitting.
“Now that you’re listening to me, can we talk?” he then asks with a soft smile. “Or it could be just me speaking, but I really want to tell you what I’ve been thinking about the past few days.”
“Okay,” you breathe out. “Talk then.”
His gaze lingers on your face, as if he is taking in every tiny detail before speaking up again.
“I fucked up, Y/N. I said all those terrible things in the heat of the moment and I regretted them right away. I didn’t mean any of them.”
“Not even when you said that all I do is get on your nerves?” you find yourself asking.
“You do get on my nerves, Y/N,” he says and you’re just about to open your mouth, but he is quick to continue. “You make me go crazy in the best way possible. With your silly dancing in the kitchen, the way you sing every song with the wrong lyrics and swear your version is the right. When you get mad at me for using words you don’t know the meaning of, or when you put me in my place when I’m being a total ass… you make me go crazy… for you.”
Your eyes are tearing up again and when his hand moves to your knee you lean closer to him, wanting more of his touch instantly.
“I love you, Y/N. I never thought I could love someone this much, but you just always prove me wrong,” he chuckles softly and your hand finds his on your leg, your fingers locking together. “Please come back. I’m nothing without you. Come back and get on my nerves every day because I want to be a mad man, but only if it’s you who makes me crazy.”
Now you’re fighting the urge to cry like a baby. You love this man and you can’t imagine a day when you won’t.
“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks. He reaches up and wipes them with his thumb. “I didn’t mean it when I said you must be fucking all your assistants at work.”
“That hurt,” he smiles bitterly.
“I just… I still wonder why you chose me,” you admit with a shrug.
“Because you’re the one for me,” he simply answers, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. You take a deep breath and exhale it shakily before leaning in and kissing him. The game starts right when your lips meet, but all the screaming and clapping tunes out as you’re back in the arms of the man you love.
“Do you want to move to the VIP section?” you ask.
“Nope,” he smirks down at you. “This really is the best seat.”
“See? I told you!” chuckling, you just pull him in for another kiss before making yourself comfortable with his arm around your shoulders.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb
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all of my past i tried to erase it
part 3 of family line
tensions are still high between Ingrid and her sister. Mapi tries to keep the peace. Solstråle tries to pretend she's fine. Ingrid tries to pretend she isn't going insane not understanding what is going on.
cw: mentions of poor mental health / panic attacks. ingrid is pretty worried about solstråle and whether or not she is safe.
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It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Mapi bringing her parents to the match shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did. You didn’t really have an explanation for it, either. You saw Ingrid talking to Mapi’s mom and it felt like everything that had gotten marginally better in the last few days had miraculously disappeared.
You were 8 again, sitting in the office at school, fielding pitying looks from the office ladies. Both of your parents were busy watching one of Ingrid’s matches; at just 16, she was playing for Rosenborg. Your mom was supposed to bring you to watch, too. She’d forgotten.
You were 10 again, lying to the school nurse that your parents hadn’t known you’d hurt your hand. She said it looked broken, and you pretended that you hadn’t asked your mom to take you to the doctor the night before. You pretended your mom hadn’t told you to stop faking injuries when the attention wasn’t on you for one minute.
You were 13 again, sobbing into your pillow, while everyone celebrated just down the hall. Ingrid was leaving to play in Lillestrøm. 5 hours away. She was leaving you behind.
You were 16, having just been dumped by your first girlfriend. You’d come home in tears, and when you told your dad what was wrong, he told you it was for the best, that a girlfriend was just a distraction. He warned you not to bother your sister with this, because she was busy with much more important things in Barcelona.
You were 17, so drunk you could barely speak, walking home on a dark road in the middle of the night because neither of your parents had answered the phone to come and get you from the horrific party you already regretted attending. It was dark, a windy road you were walking along, and if a car came, you weren’t sure your reflexes would be quick enough. You were 17, stumbling over the smooth pavement, the depression you’d been trying to drown in alcohol making a reappearance. You were 17, thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it all ended there, just like this.
You were 17, standing in the airport with your parents, preparing to board the plane to Spain. You leaned in towards your mother for a hug. She avoided it, pinching your cheek lightly, and reminding your father that they had a dinner reservation to get to. You watched them walk out of the airport from your place in the security line. Your vision was blurred with tears, but you still could tell that they didn’t look back at you once. You were 17, and your mom hadn’t told you she loved you before you moved across the continent.
In a second, all of these memories that you’d fought so hard to keep locked away deep inside your head were flooding out. Tears were pricking your eyes, and you cursed yourself for being so stupid. Ingrid didn’t care. Mapi didn’t care. You weren’t worth caring about. How had you forgotten that? How had you let yourself forget that, after everything?
Ingrid didn’t see your expression change, too busy thanking Mapi’s parents profusely for coming to see her play. Mapi did, though. She watched as you caught sight of your sister talking to her mom, and she watched as you flinched like someone had swung at you. She watched as you slipped out of the crowd, speed walking into the building. Mapi was torn in 2 directions, Ingrid on one side, and you running off the other way. You needed Ingrid, most definitely but Mapi didn’t like the look on your face as you ran off, like all of the emotion had been sucked out of you, and all that was left was exhaustion.
Someone else had noticed your disappearing act, though. Caro stood, staring after you, before her gaze fell to Mapi, raising an eyebrow. The defender nodded, and Caro followed after you, while Mapi turned to her girlfriend. She pulled her away from her parents with an apologetic smile, appreciating that Alexia walked over and picked up the conversation where it had left off.
“Ingrid, vamos,” Mapi whispered urgently. Ingrid looked at her, confused and unmoving.
“What? I was in the middle of a conversation, María,” the Norwegian scolded.
“I know, it’s your Solstråle, though, she’s upset, come on,” Mapi insisted, pulling on Ingrid’s hand, who finally seemed to feel a sense of urgency, and let Mapi lead her into the building.
“Upset? Why? Did something happen?”
“She saw you with my mom and just looked really upset.” Mapi explained. A bit of understanding washed over Ingrid’s face, and now she was the one leading her girlfriend, rushing down the hall and beginning to open door after door in search of you.
Caro, meanwhile, had found you pretty easily. You were on the floor of a room she often came to when she was overwhelmed, although that happened much less these days. You knew Caro, obviously, and she knew you, had known you since you were pretty young. She had a calming presence, and the minute she sat next to you, and extended her hand in your direction, you took it gratefully.
“Mapi is bringing Ingrid.” She told you, but didn’t say anything else. She just sat next to your trembling form and held your hand. It was enough for now, enough until your sister arrived.
And when Ingrid did arrive, it was with a loud bang as she threw the door open, sighing in relief at the sight of you. Though, that relief quickly dissolved back into worry at the state you were in. She quickly took Caro’s place at your side, hesitantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your sister was surprised when you turned and threw your arms around her neck, crying silently into her shirt.
“Jeg har deg, kjære. Det er greit, du er ok.” She murmured, looking worriedly at the other two women hovering in the doorway of the room. Mapi nodded at her encouragingly, and Ingrid refocused, rubbing a hand slowly up and down your back.
“Thank you,” Mapi muttered to Caro, as they both stepped into the hall to give you some space.
“Of course.” Caro said easily. “She having a hard time?”
“Which one?” Mapi asked wryly. “Yes. It’s… it’s a work in progress.”
“She’s a good kid.” Caro noted, Mapi nodding her head in agreement. “Well, Marta and I are around if either of you need anything.”
“Thank you, Caro. Really.” Mapi said, squeezing the forward’s shoulder. Caro just shrugged like it was no big deal, and headed back out to the pitch. When Mapi reentered the room, you were tucked perfectly into Ingrid’s lap, although you seemed to have calmed down some. Ingrid was speaking to you in hushed Norwegian, and something she said had you lurching away from her and to your feet, stumbling blindly to the door.
“Solstråle, wait,” Ingrid called, not really sure what she said to upset you, but well aware that it had been something. You fell right into Mapi’s arms, and though she looked a little startled, she easily pulled you close.
“Okay, it’s alright. We’re all okay.” She murmured, noticing the rather heartbroken expression on her girlfriend’s face at the fact that you had fled from her right into Mapi’s arms. After a few minutes, you said something quietly that neither girl could hear. “What was that, nena?”
“Can we go ho- back to the house?” You asked, correcting yourself quickly, and pulling away from the comforting embrace Mapi had you in. Ingrid felt like you’d stabbed her, honestly, when you didn’t let yourself call it home. You were stoic again, though, your face void of emotion, wiping roughly at your cheeks to rid them of tears.
“Kjære,” Ingrid said, hating the way you forced all evidence of your breakdown away. You’d been so upset, about something, but now you were acting as though nothing had happened. Your sister would have climbed into your brain if she could’ve, just to understand what was going on in there.
“Let’s go home.” Mapi said easily, shooting her girlfriend a meaningful look. Ingrid wasn’t supposed to push you, she knew that. It was just getting harder and harder to not do so, especially when she could see how much pain you were in. She couldn't understand why you wouldn’t just talk to her, and you couldn’t understand why she was so concerned or why she was so desperate to hear what you were feeling. And considering it was the two of you, the situation was bound to blow up into an argument. It was just a matter of time.
-------
Ingrid knew what was coming before her phone rang, but she still desperately wanted to avoid it. She was quite comfortable at the moment, curled up on top of Mapi in their bed, a show playing softly in the background. Mapi was scratching lightly at Ingrid’s scalp with one hand, and tracing lines over her back with the other. The movements made Ingrid’s entire body relax, which had definitely been Mapi’s goal, but it was all interrupted when her phone went off from next to her.
She sat up off her girlfriend, glancing at the screen, her expression hardening.
“Your mom?” Mapi guessed, pulling Ingrid back down into her when the Norwegian declined the call.
“Yes.”
“You haven’t talked to her since Solstråle’s letter, have you?”
“No.” Ingrid said. “I think I hate her right now.”
Mapi was surprised, only because Ingrid didn’t hate anyone. If there was going to be a person, though, it would be someone who had hurt you. Because Ingrid didn’t like to kill spiders she found in the house, but Mapi knew she would kill a person for you without a second thought. “That’s okay. You can hate her.”
“I miss her.” Ingrid admitted after another minute, her voice cracking. Her forehead was scrunched with sadness, and her hands gripped Mapi’s shirt tight in her hands.
Mapi sighed, wishing she could take Ingrid’s pain away. And yours too, for that matter. “You can miss her too. You can feel whatever you need to feel.”
“No, I can’t, not when Solstråle is so upset,”
“How your sister feels does not limit how you feel. You can be hurt, and sad, and frustrated too. It doesn’t take away from pequeña’s feelings. Just like her feelings don’t take away from yours. You are both upset. That’s alright.” Mapi said confidently. “This isn’t just happening to your sister. It’s happening to you, too, and you can be sad, mi amor. You can cry.”
Ingrid hadn’t even known she’d been about to cry until Mapi said that, but suddenly there were tears running down her face, and she was clutching tightly to the Spaniard underneath her, who did not seem surprised at all at the sudden emotion.
“I know, baby.” Mapi husked, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of Ingrid’s head. She knew Ingrid needed this, and was content to let her cry it out until she heard a sharp breath from the doorway. You were standing just outside the room, frozen and horrified.
“I’m sorry, Ing,” you mumbled, having come in to say goodnight, rather stunned to see your sister so distraught.
Ingrid could only cry harder, now furious with herself for letting you see this, but too upset to do anything but squeeze Mapi’s hand, wordlessly begging for her to do something.
“Ven aqui, nena, it’s alright.” Mapi said, gesturing you over to the bed. You looked skeptical, but you did so anyway, carefully sitting on the bed next to your sister.
“I’m really sorry, Ingrid, I don’t mean to stress you out.” You whispered. You were in a guilty mood, it seemed, not an angry one, and Ingrid felt that somehow, she preferred when you were angry to this.
“Don’t apologize, pequeña. You haven’t done anything wrong. Ingrid is upset, and you’re upset. It’s okay to be upset, and it’s okay to cry.” Sometimes, Mapi felt like she was teaching preschoolers how to identify and express their emotions when she talked to the both of you, though that might be an easier task.
“I’m not upset with you, Solstråle, I am upset with mom, and I am upset with myself. You don’t need to say sorry. Not for having a panic attack, for having a hard time, for any of it.” Ingrid managed then, taking your hand in hers.
“I’m doing my best.” You said. “I know I’m not making it easy, but I promise I’m trying.”
“We know you are. You’re doing so well, nena.” Mapi said enthusiastically, with so much excitement at you saying something remotely positive about yourself that you and Ingrid both cracked smiles.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ingrid asked after a minute. At that, you withdrew, pulling your hand from Ingrid’s and rising from the bed. Both your sister and her girlfriend repressed sighs at your sudden withdrawal.
“No, I’m really tired. I came to say goodnight. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You rushed out, before bolting out of the room at a speed that could barely be considered a walk.
Ingrid sighed once you were out of earshot, settling back into Mapi. “She’s so difficult.”
“She’s stubborn. Like her sister. She’ll come around, just give her time.” Mapi assured her.
Giving you time, though, was a lot harder than it seemed.
-------
Your whole life, you had been encouraged by your parents to be smaller, to take up less space. If you were upset, you should keep it to yourself. If you were angry, you should calm down. You were taught that your needs always came second to everyone else’s. You didn’t like to be vulnerable with people, and you didn’t like to put your emotions on others.
So when you woke up the next day, it was the feeling of intense shame swirling around inside of you. You’d ruined what was an impressive win for your sister, and a nice moment with Mapi’s parents. You’d upset Ingrid, so much so that she had cried about it.
Too much. You were being too much.
You resolved yourself to be happy today. If not happy, content. Mapi and Ingrid probably needed a day off from your ridiculous, all over the place, emotions. So today, you wouldn’t feel. You’d be perfect, you’d be small, and you’d cause as little trouble as possible.
What you didn’t expect, though, was for that to be the opposite of what Mapi and Ingrid wanted from you. They didn’t care if you took up space. They just wanted you to talk. More than anything, they just wanted you to be okay, no matter how inconvenient that process was for them.
It was a day off for both girls, due to the match the day before, and they were able to let you sleep in. Ingrid was worried you were sleeping too much, but Mapi assured her that angsty teens always needed a lot of sleep, and depressed teens going through a rough time needed even more sleep. Pair that with the intense panic attack you’d had the day before, you were bound to be exhausted.
When noon rolled around, though, and you’d yet to make an appearance, Mapi relented, much to Ingrid’s relief, who had half a mind to check you for a pulse. Mapi made a coffee to bring up to you, opening your door quietly to find you out cold under the covers.
With Snø clutched tightly in your arms, your nose pressed against the soft polar bear, you looked so young.
“Pequeña, despierta,” Mapi murmured, sitting on the edge of your bed and pulling the covers away from your face a bit.
You blinked up at her groggily, an adorably sleepy expression on your face, and Mapi couldn’t help but push some hair out of your face and smile down at you. You looked slightly suspicious, as you couldn’t remember being woken up like this in the entire time living in Spain, but Mapi just handed you your coffee, and settled on the edge of your bed.
“Morning,” you said after a minute and a rather large sip of coffee.
“Afternoon.” Mapi corrected, a little confused when your face turned red at the comment. “It’s 12:15.”
“That’s weird. Normally Ingrid comes to make sure I’m breathing if I sleep past 10.” You noted.
Mapi chuckled. “We’re working on some of your sister’s annoying habits.”
“Don’t get rid of too many, or there won’t be anything left.” You said, your lips tugging up into a smirk.
“Okay! I will just go through this chocolate croissant I made for you in the garbage!” Ingrid scoffed from the doorway, turning on her heel and marching back down the stairs.
If there was any surefire way to get you out of bed, it was to present you with a breakfast pastry.
Within 90 seconds, you had kicked Mapi out, thrown some clothes on and bounded down the stairs, in search of the promised croissant. It was sitting on a plate at the counter, waiting for you, next to your sister who was glaring at you slightly.
“Thank you, Ing,” you said sweetly, throwing her a charming smile. She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.
You hit Mapi’s hand playfully when she reached for your croissant, and she withdrew it with a laugh. “You’re like breakfast pastries the way Ingrid is about coffee.”
“Reasonable? Reasonably attached to it? Is that what you mean, María?” Ingrid asked with a frown.
“Of course, mi amor.” Mapi said with a smile, kissing Ingrid’s cheek softly. You averted your eyes, but you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t make you happy to see your sister loved so well.
The morning, or afternoon, was going exactly as you’d hoped. No attempts at conversation. No feelings. Of course, it couldn’t last. Once you’d finished eating, Ingrid perked up and seemed to prepare herself for what she was about to say, which instantly made you weary.
“We should talk about last night, kjære.” Ingrid said calmly.
You froze, slowly putting your mug back on the counter. Both other girls watched the way your whole body tense, the way every ounce of emotion was wiped off your face.
“I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about.” You said stiffly.
“That is not true. Something upset you, and we should discuss it.” Ingrid argued.
“Ingrid, it’s fine. Just leave it. We don’t need to talk about that. We don’t need to talk about anything.” You replied defensively.
“It’s not fine!” Ingrid said, raising her voice, and shaking off Mapi’s gestures to calm down. “None of this is fine. We need to talk about last night. We need to talk about the letter you wrote. We need to get you in therapy. These are all things that need to happen, solstråle. We’ve given you time, now we need to do this.”
“I am not going to therapy.” You declared, standing up with a scoff and crossing your arms across your chest. “Ingrid, I am fine. I don’t need to talk and I don’t need help.”
Ingrid grew visibly more angry with you at that, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration.
“Amor, take a breath.” Mapi said quietly, sighing to herself when Ingrid did not do so.
“You don’t need help? That is the most untrue thing I have ever heard. You do not write the things that you wrote and then turn around and say you’re fine. You. Need. Help.”
“Ingrid. I am not going to therapy, and I am done talking about this.” You said, your voice dangerously quiet.
Your sister wasn’t phased, stepping closer to you with her eyes narrowed. “You will go to therapy if I say you will, and this conversation is not over until I say it is.”
In retrospect, even Ingrid realized that this was decidedly the wrong thing to say. You didn’t take well to being told what to do. Your reaction really should have been worse; Ingrid had gotten off easy.
“Jesus, Ingrid, do you hear yourself? You sound just like mom.” You spit back, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the hurt that flashed across your sister’s face. “I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with you.” You spun around and began stomping towards the stairs. “Don’t fucking follow me.” You warned over your shoulder, causing Ingrid’s jaw to drop.
“Do not-” Ingrid began, starting after you.
“Amor, leave her.” Mapi said, intervening before Ingrid got very far, and pulling her back.
“She is the most frustrating person on the planet.” Ingrid huffed, slamming a hand down onto the counter. Mapi looked unimpressed.
“She is probably thinking the same thing about you right now. I told you not to push her.”
Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Could you be on my side here for once?” She asked bitingly.
Mapi very calmly shook her head, opening her mouth to explain when Ingrid’s eyebrows flew up on her forehead. “No. I am on your sister’s side, and you should be too. No one has been for a really long time.”
The Norwegian deflated at that, sinking down into one of the stools at the counter. Mapi continued speaking, pulling Ingrid’s hair gently out of the bun it was in, and running her fingers through it. “You’re looking at this wrong, mi amor. She doesn’t need you to talk her into therapy. She’ll get there on her own, you just need to give her time. That girl has a long way to go before she admits she needs help, believe me.”
Ingrid sighed deeply. “Can you go check on her? She’s mad at me, I just need you to make sure she’s okay and she isn’t going to do anything stupid.”
“Of course.” Mapi said, delicately kissing Ingrid’s lips. “I love you.” She reminded the Norwegian with a soft, almost shy smile.
Ingrid wanted to cry at how sweet, how perfect, how helpful and kind and funny and beautiful her girlfriend was. “I love you, so so much.”
Mapi headed for the stairs, and Ingrid made yet another cup of coffee, a coffee she wouldn’t drink.
Because Mapi came running back down the stairs a minute later, an apprehensive look on her face as she approached her girlfriend.
“Mi amor, she isn’t up there.” She said carefully.
“What do you mean she isn’t up there,” Ingrid asked, rising to her feet and feeling panic rise within her.
Mapi just shook her head, putting her hands on Ingrid’s shoulders. “She isn’t up there. Her window is open, I think she snuck out.”
Ingrid felt like something inside of her was collapsing, leaving behind a chasm that was quickly filling with anxiety. “Where… what? She… she’s gone? She…we have to-”
What had you left to do? Only horrible, life shattering options of where you were and what you were doing were flying through Ingrid’s head, and she reached out, latching on to Mapi’s outstretched hands.
“Amor, breathe. Calm down. We’ll find her. Where would she go?”
Mapi hoped, with everything in her, that Ingrid had an answer. Because she had to be calm right now, for Ingrid, but Barcelona was a big city. And if you didn’t want to be found… Mapi didn’t know what would happen.
Ingrid’s mind was racing, but one thought pushed to the front of everything else. “The lake, there’s a lake in Melhus she would always go to when she was upset. She’d go to water, a body of water.”
Mapi nodded. “Okay, there are 2 beaches in walking distance, in opposite directions. We’ll go to one, and we’ll send Frido to the other.”
Privately, Mapi hoped Frido found you first. She wasn’t quite sure that you wouldn’t bolt away from Ingrid, but you wouldn’t be expecting Frido to pop up.
-------
A quick call to Frido later, Mapi was directing one very frazzled Norwegian into the car, and setting off for the beach. Ingrid was deep in thought, and Mapi kept her hand on her girlfriend’s leg, softly and soothingly rubbing her thumb back and forth. It was only a few minutes to the beach, and Mapi knew Ingrid would talk before they arrived.
“Do you think she’d do something stupid?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her hand covering Mapi’s and gripping tightly. The Spaniard didn’t need her to explain what she meant; she knew this question was coming, really.
“She said she wouldn’t.” Mapi said calmly.
“She said she wouldn’t ‘do that to me,’ that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do it, especially now that she’s mad at me.”
“This is a little fight. She wouldn’t… do that. Not over this.” Mapi reassured her, but Ingrid remained unconvinced.
“I don’t know what she’s thinking, María, maybe she was lying before.”
“Ingrid, mi amor, calm down. You have to trust her. Even when you’re scared, and even when it feels like you should take her bedroom door off the hinges and implant her with a GPS chip. You have to trust her not to hurt herself.”
“But what if she does?” Ingrid asked softly, as if saying the words loud enough would somehow will it into existence.
“We can’t think like that. Promise me you won’t think like that, okay?”
“Okay.” Ingrid agreed faintly. Both of them knew she was lying. It was all she’d been worrying about for days, and all she would worry about for many to come.
--------
Frido found you first. When she drove by the beach and didn't see you there, she got another idea. There was a rock climbing place nearby; Ingrid had said you always used to go to a lake back home when you were upset. Though Frido didn’t want to say so, it had been a long time since Ingrid had lived with you, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if your habits had changed. And the Swede knew from your instagram that you spent a lot of time rock climbing. She told Mapi where she was headed, and sped over to the gym.
Sure enough, as soon as she walked in the building, she spotted you in the middle of the hardest wall, seemingly only using the smallest holds to get yourself up. You were breathing hard, and the worker belaying you looked a bit concerned.
Frido pulled her phone out, shooting off a quick text to Mapi. “She’s here, she’s okay. Let me talk to her, don’t let Ingrid come in. I’ll bring her out.”
Ingrid probably wouldn’t help the situation, if you were as angry as you seemed. The blonde spoke quickly to the front desk attendant, and headed over to where you were.
She stood, just watching you. You were a few feet from the top now, luckily for your hands, which you clearly had not put enough chalk on, and were beginning to really hurt. With only a bit to go, you took a risk, attempting an impressive, one armed pull to get your other hand to the next hold. You just barely missed, falling away from the wall.
“Fuck,” you cursed, swinging back towards the wall and smacking it with your hand. You were lowered down, clearly fuming, and Frido took the opportunity to step in front of you, giving the girl attached to the other end of the rope a look.
“Again,” you requested, avoiding Frido’s gaze.
She took your hand in hers, though, inspecting the tear in your skin, shaking her head. “No, that’s enough Solstråle.”
“Leave me alone, Frido.” You snapped, trying to pull away from her when you felt the rope fall slack. You turned, seeing that the worker had abandoned her harness in favor of going to help someone else, no doubt at Frido’s direction.
You rolled your eyes, quickly regretting it when the Swede raised an eyebrow at you. Ingrid could be scary sometimes, but she had nothing on Frido.
“Are they here?” You asked, loosening the harness and stepping out of it with an exasperated sigh.
“They’re outside. You terrified your sister.” Frido said, pulling you over to a bench and making you sit down, before handing you a bottle of water.
You looked unimpressed. “I’m 18, I can handle myself in the city for an hour.”
“She wasn’t worried about that, she was worried you were going to hurt yourself.” Frido said bluntly, sitting down next to you. She ignored how stiff you’d grown and how uncomfortable you seemed, reaching for your hand and looking at it critically.
“That wasn’t on purpose.” You said defensively, wrenching your hand away once again. “And I told her I wouldn’t do that.”
“Can you blame her for worrying, Solstråle, really? And maybe you didn’t do that on purpose, but you came here to push yourself instead of dealing with your feelings in a healthy way.”
You really hated that she was right. Frido was always right. It was simultaneously her worst and best trait.
“Are they mad?” You asked in a small voice, suddenly looking very much your age. Frido stood and held out a hand to help you up.
“Not right now. Just worried. Ingrid’s going to give you a hug and you’re going to let her.” Frido instructed. You supposed that was fair. And really, you could use a hug. Hugs from your sister always made you feel better, even if you’d never admit it.
As you exited the building, you instantly spotted your sister and her girlfriend by their car. Mapi was leaning calmly against the Cupra, while Ingrid was pacing frantically, speaking fast and gesturing wildly with her hands.
“Did I do that?” You asked quietly.
Frido laughed. “I think she was born like that.”
As you neared the car, Ingrid turned as Mapi pointed at you, her face melting with relief at the sight of you. It really hit you, then, how worried she must have been, to still be so anxious even after Frido had likely told her you were okay. You weren’t making this easy on your sister.
She practically knocked you over with the force of her hug. “You’re okay.” She murmured into the top of your head, leaving a kiss there.
“I’m okay.” You reiterated, letting yourself hug her back tightly, even if it was just for a moment. She felt you tighten your arms around her almost unconsciously, and made a note to hug you more often. Even if it seemed like you weren’t very interested. After a minute she pulled back, placing both hands on your cheeks and making you look at her.
“Next time leave through the front door? And tell me where you’re going? Please?” She asked. You appreciated that she didn’t tell you to do this, leaving it more as a request, although you knew it was a reasonable rule for her to put in place.
“Promise.” You said quietly. She nodded her head, satisfied, before pulling Frido into a hug that also looked to be too tight. Mapi was looking at you, rather unimpressed. You knew she was not happy with you for upsetting your sister so much, and though it annoyed you a bit, you knew it was deserved. And you appreciated that your sister had someone that was so protective over her.
“In the car, nena. I want to talk to you when we get home.” Mapi instructed. You got in the car with no argument, the fight having gone out of you a bit. It had nothing to do with the hug Ingrid had given you, nothing at all. Definitely not. Instead of anger, you only felt apprehension, because Mapi looked dead serious about whatever she wanted to talk about.
-------
You were nothing short of shocked when Mapi opened the door to the garage and gestured you inside upon arriving home. Ingrid watched on anxiously, and you pretended not to see the way Mapi whispered some reassurance to her and kissed her cheek, before pointing her towards the kitchen
You’d never been in the garage before; it was Mapi’s space. You were already invading her home, you wouldn’t invade the one place of the house that was really hers, too. You knew she worked something out there, knew there was a reason both cars parked in the driveway instead of in the garage.
Mapi followed you into the room and sat down on a stool next to the large motorcycle in the middle of the garage. It was clearly in the process of being restored. You hadn’t known Mapi rode motorcycles. Well, you hadn’t known that your sister let Mapi ride a motorcycle. You stood awkwardly in the door as Mapi inspected 2 different wrenches, until she pointed at the stool next to her.
“Ven aqui, nena.” She said.
You took a seat, not really enjoying the tense silence that washed over the room. “Are you mad at me?” You asked after a minute. For all your anger, and all your bravado, you didn’t like it when people were mad at you. Especially not people you looked up to, people you admired.
“No. Not mad, nena. Never mad. I wish you hadn’t snuck out your window, but I understand why you did. I wish sometimes you thought a bit more about how your actions affect me and your sister, but I know how hard that is to do when you’re as angry as you are.”
“I’m not angry.” You said defensively. Mapi rolled her eyes, handing you a couple of tools and beginning to tighten something on the bike.
“You are angry. You’re so angry that you feel like you’re going to explode sometimes. You’re so angry that sometimes you forget that you’re sad, too. You’re angry, and you’re hurt, and I cannot blame you for that. If anyone has a right to those emotions, it’s you.” You didn’t really enjoy being perceived so well, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “I know angry, nena. Do you remember when I hurt my knee?”
You nodded. The first few weeks of Mapi's injury hadn’t been a fun time, your sister beyond stressed with dealing with Mapi’s injury and her new role in the team, and you’d tried hard to be on your best behavior.
“I started working on this bike a year ago, when everything happened with the Spanish federation. It was Ingrid’s idea, a way for me to distract myself. When I hurt my knee, it had been a bit since I’d worked on it, but suddenly I was back in this garage until all hours of the night. It’s nice to be able to control something like this, when everything else feels out of your control. That is how climbing is for you, yes?”
You relaxed a bit at the turn the conversation was taking, and Mapi wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t just the topic; it was the fact that she wasn’t staring at you, putting pressure on you to give her an answer she wanted to hear. You were just talking. Casually.
“Yeah. I’m in control, and I don’t have to think about anything else. It’s relaxing.”
“It’s good for you to have an outlet like that.” Mapi stated. “This bike was Ingrid’s idea, when we first got together. Do you know what her other idea was?”
You were pretty sure you did, and you grimaced at the thought. “Therapy?”
Mapi snorted, handing you the wrench she was using and taking the screwdriver from your hand. “Yes therapy. You don’t have to look at it like that, though, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
“It’s not for me.” You said decisively.
Mapi just shrugged. “I didn’t think it was for me either.” She paused, knowing your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d ask for more information.
“What changed your mind?” You asked after a minute.
“Your sister did. After the euros, I had a hard time coming back to Barça and playing. Those weeks were some of the hardest of my life, trying to find my rhythm again but trying to recover from the stress I’d been under that summer. I was a mess. And Ingrid was right there with me, through all of it. I’d had a really bad day, and I asked Ingrid to come home early from a lunch she had. She came home, calmed me down, and afterwards, she asked me if I trusted her. I said I did. And she said that she really wanted me to try therapy. That I didn’t have to feel how I felt, and I deserved help. I deserved to not be miserable. She asked me to try it, for her, just give it a try.”
“And you did.”
“And I did. Because she’d done so much for me, I couldn’t refuse her request. Not when I knew she just wanted the best for me. I gave it a shot, and it helped, more than anything else had helped. It wasn’t a fix all, but it helped. It made me feel like I was doing something to get better.”
Mapi abandoned her work on the bike, looking at you for the first time since you’d entered the garage. You could only see sincerity in her gaze. Not anger, but annoyance. Just sincerity. “You deserve help, Solstråle. No matter how you feel about yourself, Ingrid and I know you. And we know you deserve help. You’re a good person, and you deserve to be happy.”
María sounded so sure. So completely convinced. You looked away from her, blinking hard.
“You don’t have to agree to anything now. Keep an open mind about it. Think about it. Okay?”
“Okay.” You agreed quietly, grateful that Mapi didn’t make a big deal out of it, only nodding slightly.
“One more promise?” She asked.
“What?”
“Talk to us. Or just me, or just Ingrid. We’re a little lost here, nena. It feels like we were just kind of plopped down in the middle of this. We had no idea anything was going on, not really. And all of a sudden we’re reading that letter, and realizing we missed a lot. That’s on us; we should have noticed sooner. We don’t have the whole picture, though, and that makes it really hard for us to figure out how to help you. We’ll both worry a lot less if you talked to us, just a little bit.”
That was reasonable, you had to admit. When she put it like that. You’d spent so much time being annoyed that no one had noticed, then being annoyed when they finally did notice, you hadn’t really spent a ton of time thinking about how little they knew. There was no context to your behavior, aside from what you’d put in the letter. And that just barely scratched the surface. You supposed they deserved an explanation. At least a bit of one.
“I’ll try.” You promised.
Mapi grinned at you this time, an infectious smile. “Bueno! Come here with that wrench. No, that one. Put it on this bolt. Twist.”
And just like that, the conversation was over. Easily. You got the feeling that Mapi would have let it go if you’d insisted on it, but you miraculously felt better. Talking, listening had made you feel better. Mapi had made you feel better.
-------
You both emerged from the garage around an hour and a half later, when the smell of baking cookies became too strong to resist. Ingrid had clearly been stress baking, one of your favorite of her habits. There were at least 3 different types of cookies on the counter, some done baking, some still in progress. It smelled so distinctly of home in the house, it was almost overwhelming.
“I have something for you,” Ingrid said, drying her hands and stepping away from the counter when you walked into the room.
“I can see that.” You said, nodding to the cookies appreciatively, but Ingrid shook her head.
“No, something else.” Ingrid said.
“OH! I do too.” Mapi said excitedly, and they both disappeared in different directions. You stood bewildered in the kitchen, not quite sure what you were about to be given.
They returned simultaneously, each holding what looked to be 2 frames. “Mapi’s first.” Ingrid directed. “I haven’t seen it yet.”
You looked surprisingly at Mapi, taking the present and beginning to unwrap the wrapping paper. “What is this for?” You asked.
“Your birthday.” Ingrid said quietly. You froze momentarily, an unreadable expression flashing across your face. “I know it seems like we forgot, but we didn’t. We got the dates messed up, but we had presents, and we had dinner reservations, just… for the 25th. Not the 15th.”
“Oh. I thought you’d forgotten.” You said slowly, seemingly slightly emotional.
“Nope, just bad at remembering dates. Now open your present.” Mapi said impatiently, bouncing on her feet like an overexcited child.
You unwrapped it slowly, as if you were slightly weary of what it might be. When you pulled the frame from the wrapping paper, though, every wall you’d put up fell instantly, your jaw dropping open at the piece of art in your hands.
It was a map. Not just a map, but a map of all the hiking trails in Barcelona. It was textured, detailed, labeled. It was intricate, all neutrals and earthy colors. It was so you. From the contents to the design, it was like it had been made just for you.
“Mapi…” You whispered, staring, stunned, at the map. “Where did you… how did you… what?”
“Ale’s sister Fresa went to school with this girl that hand makes maps like this. I got her name from diablillo, and I told her what I wanted. Do you like it, do you like it?” Mapi asked excitedly.
Mapi got her answer when you handed the frame to Ingrid, and launched yourself the few feet between you and Mapi, wrapping her in a tight hug. Mapi beamed at Ingrid, who was trying very hard not to cry. She hadn’t even given Mapi any advice on the gift. It had been all her girlfriend’s idea, she executed it all by herself, determined to get Solstråle the perfect gift.
“It’s perfect, thank you María,” you mumbled. The ridiculous smile on Mapi’s lips didn’t falter at the use of her real name, only squeezing you tighter.
“Te amo, Solstråle.” She said back. For once, you believed it. When you pulled away from the hug, it was to see Mapi looking smugly at your sister. “INGRID I DEFINITELY WON.”
Ingrid rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t even opened my present yet.”
“Still. I won.” Mapi smirked.
Now it was Ingrid’s turn to hand you your gift. It was wrapped in the same paper, and you tore it off, almost cautiously, not quite sure what Ingrid would have gotten you.
You were, once again, speechless at what you saw. This time, your eyes filled with tears immediately. Ingrid wasn’t as excited as Mapi had been, instead looking at you anxiously.
It was a painting of a waterfall back home not far from your house. It was so distinct, you knew Ingrid must have paid a ridiculous amount of money to get someone to hand paint it. Each individual stroke was so precise, blending perfectly into the image it was supposed to be, but if you focused hard, you could pick out the greens and greys and blues and whites that you’d grown up with.
It felt like home. It felt comforting. You could almost smell the trees, feel the cool sting of wind on your cheeks. It was a little piece of home just for you, and it was perfect. So beautiful and artistic that you weren’t sure you were worthy of it, but you looked at it in awe nonetheless. You wiped at your cheeks, not able to control the tidal wave of emotion washing over you.
“Kjære? Is it okay?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her eyes searching your face, trying to figure out if these were good tears or bad tears.
You let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay? Ingrid… it’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s… perfect. Thank you.” You said, turning to her with a look of complete shock. And even though it pained Ingrid that you were so surprised to receive a nice gift for your birthday, she pushed that feeling down. Instead, she pulled you in towards her, placing the frame on the counter so she could hug you properly. You were happy with it, now, and that was all Ingrid had control over.
After a few seconds, Ingrid moved to pull away and break the hug, but you kept your arms wrapped around her, not quite ready to let go yet. Maybe it was the homesickness, or maybe it was your sister making you feel so known, and so loved. Whatever the reason, you just wanted her near you for a minute more, holding you nice and tight and safe against her.
“I love you,” she whispered, hearing you mumble the words back, your voice thick with emotion. When you did pull away, a minute later, it was to wipe at your face in an almost embarrassed manner.
Seeing how desperate you were for the attention to be off your tears, Mapi spoke up, her voice light and easy. “You can put them up in your room, you don’t have anything on the walls.”
You looked at the ground, then, almost sheepishly. “I didn’t know I could put anything up on them.” You admitted.
The room fell quiet, but even though you could tell that what you said had hurt Ingrid and Mapi, they just shook their heads softly. “It’s your room, for good, you can do whatever you want to it.” Ingrid told you.
You were about to thank her, and try to move the conversation long when Mapi let out a dramatic gasp. Both you and Ingrid whipped your heads to look at her, confused at the mischievous grin on her face.
“Ikea. WE CAN GO TO IKEA AND GET FURNITURE FOR SOLSTRÅLE’S ROOM.”
“María, calm down. Maybe she doesn’t want to redo her room.” Ingrid looked at you hopefully, and you knew it had nothing to do with your room, and everything to do with her not wanting to take Mapi to ikea.
You simply smirked back at Ingrid, who sighed and shut her eyes for a minute.
“Okay. Ikea.” She said finally. You and Mapi cheered, comically loudly, completely ignoring the rules she was setting in favor of high fiving each other and going to get ready to leave. “María, you are not building anything. Solstråle does not need her bed to collapse under her in the middle of the night. And kjære, please, please, don’t let Mapi talk you into a loft bed, you’ll fall off of it and break your arm. Amor? Kjære? ARE EITHER OF YOU LISTENING!” Ingrid shouted after you, rolling her eyes at the chants of ikea echoing around the house.
Mapi in Ikea was a handful. You, too, were a handful at the store. Together? She was going to lose one of you, she was sure of it. It had been a long day already. And it was only set to get longer.
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fluffy engen-león family trying to put furniture together in the next part?
yes, that IS all i have to say about this chapter thank you for your time.
#woso imagine#woso x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#ingrid engen x mapí leon#ingrid engen x reader#mapi leon x reader#engen!reader#platonic reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics#sol☀️#🍓☀️
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Hi! How are you doing?
Could i request a male reader x lucifer where the reader is the angel of death (like the one who took souls when they die) and he can go to hell and heaven whenever he wanted, you can make this sfw or nsfw, up to you
(If you can, can you make the reader way taller than lucifer?)
Summary : [request]
warning : male reader,fem dni,Lucifer being a nervous wreck,Death mention,minor dni(show’s 18+),ooc lucifer (?),i hate it ngl
The Angel of the death,that what you were an Angel,a special one who took people’s soul to take them to Heaven or Hell. Lately a lot of human’s soul goes to Hell,you wondered why.
After a long day of taking care of people’s soul,why don’t you go in Hell,to see what’s happening down there.
You always heard from above,that Hell is evil full of sinners who wants terrors but you didn’t believe that.
Something came to your mind,thousand years ago,the fallen age who now lives in Hell. Why don’t you go visit him,that’s what you thought.
You froze,where does he lives ? It’s been thousand of years since you talked to your old friend ! You let out a sighed,walking down the Pentagram city.
Yell,explosion were heard. It must be the Sinners,well Hell isn’t that bad. They had a lot of Overload,criminals and others but if an Angel can fall that’s mean a Demon could rise too.
You accidentally shoved a short person,you looked down,the person was something like glaring at you ? "I’m sorry I didn’t to shove you,and yeah.." you muffled,the blond raises his brow.
"Ive seen him before ? Erm,like thousand years ago ?" He said out loud making you raise your eyebrows "oh..! Uhm my bad I said out loud-" he said,rolling his eyes nervously.
"But what’s your name?" He rubbed the back of his head "[Name]." You said gaining back your not so seriousness "[name]?..name?" He repeated,his eye widened "you’re one of my old friend thousands years ago ! But what are you doing here ? Aren’t an Angel" he asked
"Oh Luci-fer!" You shouted happily "well to answer your question,well I’m an Angel of Death so I’m the person who takes people to Heaven or Hell" you exclaimed yourself in happiness
"Buttt you shouldn’t be here you know" he smiled nervously "but I was here to met you again" you hugged him and spins him around "it’s so good to see you again-" you patted his hair as he pats away his dust on his shirt.
"I want to spend time with you since it’s been centuries !" You stated,smiling warmly "oh and I heard that you’ve got a messy divorce im really sorry for you-"
"It’s nothing,just nothing." He sighed he took your hand and teleport you away from the lousy streets.
You were actually in his home,full of.. rubber ducks..?"you really do like ducks !" You stated.
"You noticed it too ? Looks at this one !" He shows a duck who let out fire from his mouth,childishly. You smiled.
You keeps talking about his rubber ducks,that wasn’t that bad you guess. Well you might think he has some kind attachment issues and some depression but he didn’t really changed.
#lucifer x male reader#hazbin hotel x male reader#x male reader#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x male reader#luci#hazbin hotel season 1
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THERE'S NO SIGN OF LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [3]
Description: The one where you grieve Emily together (+ the one where you kiss him)
word count: 7.9k
trigger warnings: okay so this chapter is exactly how it sounds, heavy in themes of grief, depression, anger, slight ideation of the world being better without bugsy (as if), DRUG USE (once and not addictively and not by Spencer!), mention of Spencer being horny, mention on blood and drinking.
authors note: this was just supposed to be a little filler chapter for the next one where the real juicy shit happens and long story short it became nearly 8k words of pure angst until the last minute when I decided to stop hurting you all. please don't hate me, promise a big boy chapter is coming up.
previous chpt | next chpt
'Doctor, look into my eyes.
I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life.'
The team had fallen into chaos since Emily died. Hotch thought that just five little stages of grief weren’t quite enough to summarise what they were going through.
Morgan was pissed off by the smallest things, had flipped shit just that morning because the printer had jammed. He'd gone through two mugs and a keyboard in just two weeks in his tempers that had certainly seen better days.
Penelope’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears she was trying her hardest to choke down, to wipe away so fast she could pretend to still see her computer screen, but Hotch didn’t need to be a profiler to see the way her sleeves were smudged with mascara, sodden through 24/7.
Rossi seemed resigned, tired, his breath smelled faintly of the strong whiskey he saved for special occasions, his hair unkempt, as though he hadn’t slept until the early hours, or if he had it had been unrestful. He took more frequent breaks, came back smelling like the cigars he kept in his desk drawer for the bad days, and he sighed as if the world beat down on his back, like he’d been asked to choose between stopping world hunger or saving the environment. His chest was heavy. His face was tired of losing so many friends he loved.
Spencer was working himself to the bone, his desk piled with books (even more so than usual), his fingers twitching by his side more often, as if his brain cells had been dialled up to a thousand percent, which was saying something when it came to Reid. In fact the only thing out of ordinary was the fact he was constantly checking his phone, the sight of which had Pen dropping her coffee on the rough carpet, which she had promptly then excused herself with watery eyes over. Yes, he actually knew how to use technology, which he had been so vehemently against for years, until the team realised it was because one very important member of the team had been using her sick days for three weeks now.
They knew he was looking after her, that he would bring her dinner and make sure the cats were fed, but they had no idea she had all but moved in with him, Niko and Sergio included.
Yet he found himself checking the screen every twenty minutes or so for signs of an update, even just a thumbs up or a little sign that said seen under his good morning texts. He was scared he’d wandered too far into boyfriend territory, it certainly felt that way when he would come home to see her bundled on the couch, nose deep in one of the books he would leave out for her, how her eyes would light up just the tiniest amount to see him home. She rarely cooked, he knew she didn’t even touch the food in his fridge no matter how much he reminded her she needed to eat when he wasn’t there, to which she usually just nodded at him and buried her head in his arm to escape the scoldings.
Things were different with her here. He knew she was vulnerable, lost, he saw it every time she came crawling into his bed from where he’d set her up in the spare room, or when Sergio made himself home on her lap and she squeezed the cat to her chest in quiet tears. Usually he would have squirmed out of her grip, he had always preferred Emily, but these days he just let her sob with a docile blink at where Spencer watched her from the other end of the couch, and pretended not to notice when his fur was sodden and messed up.
Spencer had felt something for her before, the weeks, months even leading up to Emily dying, but with her here, needing him all the time, holding him tightly when he needed to grieve himself, making herself at home in his personal space, he was sure she knew it too. There was no way she didn’t know how he felt.
But the topic was too heavy, too complex to bring up with her mourning her sister, it would rip the carpet out from beneath her feet, and no matter how heavily, besottedly, how deeply Spencer felt he loved her, he would never do that to her. He couldn’t.
He had always loved mind games, but loving someone so much you couldn’t not tell them, only to not tell them because you loved them so much felt like a whole paradox even he couldn’t wrap his big brain around.
So they stayed where they were. She had good days, though they usually looked like said reading on the sofa with nothing but a strong cup of coffee in her stomach. And then she had bad ones. And the bad ones made him scared, so scared he had no choice but to get help.
Penelope came over the Friday evening with Spencer after work, kitted out entirely with nail polishes and gems, the box set of Barbie movies, a hot chocolate mix she swore by, three tubs of ice cream, face masks, Teen vogue with a Never have I ever section ‘Begging to be answered’ and of course, her Pièce de résistance, her makeup kit and joke fluffy handcuffs for them to tie down Reid and give him a makeover.
“Hello my handsome gentlemen,” She greeted Niko and Sergio who rushed to the door on instinct, knowing Spencer always gave them each a big handful of treats upon arriving home, “Auntie Penny is here for a super girly evening, no boys allowed,”
“Am I not invited?” Spencer asked, faux hurt flashing on his face as he shut the door behind them, though his eyes were quick to scan around his living room for any sign of her. There wasn’t, not even a single pillow was out of place, and he knew it had been another day of skipped lunch and breakfast.
“You are, of course you are, I just didn’t want them to get jealous,” She whispered, her brown eyes taking in the too perfect apartment and the lack of the Prentiss girl, “Is she sleeping?”
“No,” He said without checking, because he knew she rarely slept nowadays unless she was in his bed with him, “I’ll go get her,”
“Okay,” Some of the joy died out of her tone when she heard his voice soften sadly as she set her bags down on the kitchen counter, “I’ll get the hot chocolates ready!” Penelope tried to recover in that perky tone she used to cover up when something hurt her.
He just hoped this had been the right decision, that he wasn’t pushing her too hard.
Knocking softly on her door, he let himself in when he heard a small murmur on the other side, and as he suspected, she was curled into a small ball under one of his blankets, her hair wet, her pyjamas in the laundry basket. She had one of his shirts on and some boxers he had noticed had gone missing, but he would never hold it against her.
She had showered while he was gone at least, and her breath was minty fresh as he crept over the woolly rug and kneeled one leg on the bedside.
“Hey,” He started softly, sweeter than honey, his cadence somewhat hopeful as he leaned over her and stroked her hair that was still damp. “You got up! Did you eat anything?”
She looked up at him with tired eyes, but she reached out with both her arms to embrace him gently, like she’d been waiting all day to have him near again.
“I had a couple biscuits and some coffee,” Her voice was raspy, and it was the first he’d heard her speak in a few days. “I’ll try better tomorrow, I just was a bit tired today-”
“No, no, that’s great,” He rushed to comfort her, to stop the apology that was coming his way whenever she didn’t take care of herself the way he wanted her to, “Penny’s here to see you. She’s here for a girl’s night, if that’s okay?”
Bugsy attempted a smile, though she seemed hesitant, but he thought that was probably just the way her expression was these days, like everything hopeful had been sucked out of her.
“I’ve missed Penny,” She said, and he knew she meant it. She nodded finally, and he leaned over her to give her a proper hug for putting on a brave face, feeling her nuzzle into his chest at the contact. She sniffed the air for a second, before whispering into his ear, “Is that chocolate?”
He chuckled, stroking down her back and pulling her up into a sit. He’d gotten used to her being pliant under his touch, and he only wished her being so receptive to his advances would be under other circumstances.
The urge to grab her face and kiss every bit of hurt out of her was growing harder and harder to shove down with every day he saw her so soft and wounded. He wasn’t good at knowing what to say, but for her, he was trying to be. The only alternative was kissing her silly, until the pit she’d crawled into was warm, just warm all over, and she came back to him in one piece.
“Yes, it’s chocolate. Now come on, before she starts the movie without us,” He breathed gently, helping her out of bed, pretending he didn’t hear the way her joints cracked with the first sign of movement in hours. “Wait a second, pants,” He reminded her, tossing her some sweatpants from the floor, which she shoved on blindly. He didn’t mind her walking around like that if it meant she were comfortable, but he didn’t want her to give Pen a scare.
A ghost of a smile teased on her lips as he led her out the room with two hands on her shoulders, seeing the blonde woman light up like the fourth of July at the sound of the two of them approaching.
“Bug!” Penelope called, mid way through distributing a hefty amount of whipped cream and marshmallows on top of three mugs. Spencer watched the second her eyes widened slightly as she took in the girl’s appearance, trying frantically to cover it with an even wider smile, rushing to hug her tightly. He saw the minute she realised she felt so different in her arms; lifeless, heavy, rooted to the spot, like any contact with someone other than the gentle Spencer-touches she was used to made her lock up.
She looked sick, like she hadn’t known fresh air in weeks, or like she’d pulled three all nighters in a row, or like she would be able to watch a ten car pile up and not bat an eye. She looked dead. She felt dead in Penny’s arms.
The thought of it made her squeeze her tighter, until she felt two arms cuddle her back firmly.
“I see Spencer has been treating you well,” Pen said, because she was avoiding the subject of Emily, and the way Bugsy looked exhausted, and the way she saw how scared Spencer was when he’d come into ‘the bat cave’ that afternoon to ask for her help.
Bugsy attempted another smile, nodding slightly as the blonde drew back from their hug, and she saw the worry she tried so desperately to hide as she took in her face.
The girl’s skin was dull in a way they’d never seen her before, her expression tired, her bones creaky, like someone had reached down her gullet and plucked her soul right from out of her chest, snatched it there and then. Penelope saw why Spencer looked so worried.
“He’s been great,” Bugsy replied simply, her eyes finding Spencer’s where he shadowed behind her, worried she would faint on the spot from all the movement. She’d not been eating anything other than what he encouraged down her throat, but he supposed a handful of biscuits were better than nothing.
She felt the bottomless pit that used to be her heart rip open just that bit further, the way it had done slowly the past few days, eating away at her skin. She knew she could never ever repay Spencer for everything he was doing, knew the odd few times she’d managed to collect herself enough to be there for him when he cried could never amount to how he hovered over her every second he was home.
But where she should have felt guilt, there was nothing, there was just nothing left of her.
He seemed to notice the slip, the way he always did, and she never did tell him how perceptive he was as he stroked over the back of her hair, leading her with a warm hand on her upper back to the sofa where Pen had already laid out the movie selection, had already grabbed the hot chocolates that were quickly melting onto the coffee table, where Niko was waiting with an eager pink tongue to collect his share, where he settled her down and wrapped her in a blanket as if he was swaddling a baby, where he let her take the middle and him and Pen on either side as Fairytopia lit up his living room with hot pinks and rainbows and flowers and magic.
And even though she had yet to crack a smile, a real one at least, she seemed content, not entirely uncomfortable with the evening as Penelope commandeered one of her hands to paint her nails a shiny blush colour ‘to match the evening’. Spencer thought for a minute she might have just needed some girl time, something no matter how many cuddles and sweet words he whispered could never give her. Maybe that was all she’d needed.
Maybe she would get through this without entirely crumbling.
It wasn’t until the next day when even showering was too big a feat for her, when she had only two mouthfuls of the blueberry pancakes he’d made her before she apologised with watery eyes that he realised how stupid he was for believing it.
It wasn’t until she said she wanted to move back home by herself that he really started panicking.
JJ took her out for a picnic in the park the following weekend. The guilt was eating her up alive about hiding Emily’s secret, and from what Pen had told her, she wasn’t doing good. She wasn’t even doing bad; she was barely hanging on by a thread. Hotch had said she would be a flight risk with her sister gone, had said they would need to keep an eye on her as much as they would the rest of the team, but for Emily’s safety she couldn’t tell her the truth. JJ could only stand back and watch as the girl they all knew crawled into something dark inside herself and barricaded the door closed.
Spencer had taken the nice approach with her, never forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to or asking too directly, as had Penelope. They’d both tried letting her open up by herself, which had only resulted in the girl taking about five steps back and even starting to shut out Reid, something which they all saw tore him up even more than seeing her wasting away in his spare room. He spent more days at hers, crying harder than she had seen him even when he was struggling with opioids. Crying for Emily some of the time, but mostly crying for the fact he was entirely helpless now she had moved out, like the one thing that had held him upright until then had left in a guilty mess of ‘sorry’s and dead eyes.
So she instead took the approach of telling Bugsy she needed help. Because if there was one thing that had always been able to bend her will, it was someone else needing her.
JJ thought about reminding Spencer that Bug would come back if he took the same route, if he just told her how badly he needed her instead of her feeling like she was simply a burden on his life. But she knew he wouldn’t hear it, he would only blame himself more.
So she’d told Bug she was struggling with looking after Henry alone while Will was working away, that he’d been asking for her since she’d come to his second birthday party with the biggest stuffed whale toy he’d ever seen. It was a white lie, Will was home more days than she was, but Henry had been asking for ‘the bug lady’ every time he played with his teddy. And it worked like a charm.
So they sat in the warm April breeze, Bugsy reading on her stomach as JJ carefully nudged a punnet of fat, red grapes her way, hoping she would take the hint and swallow a few.
It wasn’t until Henry came diving over to them from where he was collecting snails by their shells that Bug even showed any sign of pulling herself out of the book.
“Buggy!” The little boy called, his tongue struggling with the complexity of the ‘gsy’ sound, and she looked up at him with a tired smile on her face that JJ saw right through immediately. “Buggy, look,”
She held out her hand, and he gently placed a common land snail in the palm of her hand, no bigger than a quarter, who happily slid over her fingertip with a squishy sensation.
“Thankyou, Henry,” She replied, her eyes trailing over the shiny slime he left behind over her palm, his tiny antenna eyes googling up at her. “What should we call him?”
“Sid’d’snail,” Henry replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, crouching next to her to watch him crawling over her chipped pink fingernails.
“Hi Sid,” She chimed, and JJ watched her face drop into a completely emotionless expression the second Henry’s back was turned to find Sid a friend.
She felt it clawing at her throat to come out, Emily’s alive, Emily’s alive, come back to us please, please come back to us because Emily’s still alive. JJ was watching her rot in front of her very eyes, and better yet she had the power to stop it with those very few words.
She could put an end to all of this, she knew how badly it had hurt when Ros died, her older sister, her whole world ripped from her the way Emily’s ‘death’ was doing to Bugsy. She would have given anything for someone to have turned to her and said ‘Jennifer, your sister is still alive. Jennifer, it was all a trick, a hoax, a ploy to keep you safe. Jennifer, Ros is still here, alive and breathing and living her best life in Paris of all places.’
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t betray Emily like that, and knowing, no matter how much of a relief it would come, would put Bugsy in more danger with Ian Doyle and whatever other enemies her sister had made at interpol than she could have ever realised.
So instead, JJ just ran a gentle hand over her hair that warmed in the sun, and started braiding parts of it absent-mindedly, like they were two girls in a playground waiting for hometime.
JJ stayed quiet, and watched Bugsy get worse.
Aaron came over to her apartment at 8am sharp. He’d found JJ and Penny in floods of tears in the women’s bathroom when they were due to start the presentation of the latest case and they were nowhere to be seen. Spencer had become detached, quieter with every day that he checked his phone and saw no reply, but had mentioned he’d seen them go into the bathroom together as he got his morning coffee, only for their boss to see the two of them clinging to one another with wet cheeks and before he could even ask, Penelope splurged that Bugsy hadn’t messaged in four days and was refusing to open the door, and that even Spencer asking so sweetly, something that was usually her kryptonite, had failed to draw her out.
Aaron was convinced if this didn’t work he was kicking down the door himself, even if it meant filing paperwork for a necessary home visit.
Aaron Hotchner, surprising to no one, was soft on the youngest Prentiss girl. He’d watched her grow for four years straight, had come to her of all people in his hour of desperate need, and felt every second of her grief as if it was his own because he, like JJ, knew he had the power to stop it all but couldn’t.
He called her name through the door first, her real name, loud yet anxious, along with a firm knock. When he heard nothing back, he rapped on the wood louder, “Bugsy, I know you’re in there. The team are worried about you, they’re worried you’re hurt,”
Nothing.
And it wasn’t just the team that was worried, it was him too, if his heavy fists banging even harder were anything to go off of.
“Bugsy, if you don’t answer I’m sending for the SWAT team and asking them to ram this door down,” He said, with not a trace of a lie in his tone. Because he wasn’t lying, not by a long shot.
He heard footsteps then, and she appeared through a small crack in the doorway, not open enough for him to see the mess in her living room, but enough to see the way her entire face looked like a cadaver.
He fought back against the guilt choking him from the inside out.
“Stop yelling,” She murmured, almost bitterly, “You’re scaring the cats,”
“You’re scaring us,” He countered back, in a tone that was a little too mean, but from what he heard, soft and gentle wasn’t working, “Please, just let us help you, stop pushing everyone away,”
“That’s a little pot calling the kettle black there, Hotch,” She said in an equally harsh tone, her face scrunching into a frown, and she nearly slammed the door on him right there and then.
“Get your work out clothes on, we’re going for a run,” He ordered, and it was only then she notices his sport shorts and trainers. She scoffed in his face. He was quick to shove a foot in the door before she actually could swing it shut on him, ignoring the way he nearly yelped as it trapped between the wood, “I’m not asking,”
“Fuck off,” She spat, and he bristled at her choice language, but he saw the way her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was a roadkill on a sidewalk waiting to be put out of her misery; she didn’t want to be prodded and poked at and ordered around, she wanted out.
She wanted to go quietly, without a fight. And it was for that reason, he put up more of a struggle.
“You are coming outside with me, even if I have to drag you down the street myself because this is not how it ends for you.” Aaron barked back, forcing the door open with one of his large hands as if it was nothing.
“Of all people, I would have thought you would understand, Aaron,” It was like she had slapped him in the face, though he thinks maybe that would have hurt less, and it was only then he saw her eyes had welled up, and her bottom lip was quivering. It was a horrible sight, it twisted his guts like he’d been stabbed by Foyet all over again, but it was better than the nothingness that was there before.
“Ofcourse, I understand,” His voice softened, his hands coming up to gently rest on her shoulder like she was breakable china beneath his palm, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to want to hide away and never face a world without Haley ever again? I can’t, even now, imagine the rest of my life with her gone,” His throat clogged with emotion he fought off, because he refused to have both of them crying in her living room when he was meant to be the one pulling her out of it, “But I do it because Jack needs me-”
“No body needs me,” She said emptily, ignoring the way Sergio wrapped his tail around her leg and meowed loudly as if to tell her otherwise.
“Yes we do,” Hotch insisted, seriously, damn near ready to shake her on the spot to knock some sense into her, “We need you, and better yet we love you. You may have lost your sister, but you still have a family waiting for you, Bugsy,”
And that was it, the single crack that broke the dam. Before he knew it she had launched herself into his arms in a fit of tears, clinging to him tighter than he thought she could for someone who looked so weak and perished.
He just held her close, feeling his own stray tears drip down his nose as his shirt got wet through. In another life, maybe he and Haley would have had a daughter, and maybe she would have reminded him of Bugsy, maybe his heart would soften to putty just the same way it did with her. The same way it did for Jack.
And eventually, when she dried her face, and quietened Sergio down, she went to put on her gym gear and one of Spencer's hoodies she’d stolen and felt too guilty to give back, and they went for a run.
If there was one thing Rossi knew better than his whiskeys, it was how to cook a good carbonara. And if there was one thing Bugsy needed more than anything at the moment it was a buttload of carbs and cheese.
Aaron had been taking her running every morning since that day, and even she had to admit the fresh air and exercise did her good, made her feel stronger and less like the women they find in body bags at the beginning of a case, made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could get through the rest of this.
It wasn’t going away overnight, not by any means, but she looked healthier, and her exhaustion meant she got more sleep too, but what remained was a hunger that she was filling with cereal and instant noodles that Rossi knew he had to put a stop to immediately. Instant noodles should have been outlawed with crack and underaged drinking, he would proudly tell her.
So he invited her over for a cooking lesson, or as he would put it, she could watch him cook and eat as much as she wanted at the end, if she promised to never buy those awful microwave ramen ever again. And she’d agreed, because she felt her appetite coming back every day (and she knew where he kept the good white wine).
“Now as entertaining as this is watching you drain my stash of Sémillon, why don’t you chop up that pork and I’ll get started on the sauce.” He handed her a sharpened butcher’s knife, and the thin slices of seasoned ham, turning to use the stove for just a few moments, “You’re gonna add the cream in until it becomes thick, like cough mixture running off your spoon,”
“Thick and creamy, you got it,” She chimed in, her fingers slicing the meat into strips, “Did you want this as diced or Julian?”
“Do you mean julienne?”
“That’s what I just said,” He chuckled into the pot, his chest warming to hear some of that old bratty teenaged sass returning to her tone. He bet she would have run rings around him if she was his kid.
“Diced, if you would,” David said, using a wooden spoon to stir in the thick cream little by little until the container ran empty.
“Yes, Chef,” She hummed in response, flipping the chopping board around to begin slicing them the other side, “So, I’m guessing if I asked to try some of that Sauvignon I saw in the fridge, your response would be- oh motherfucker-”
David frowned, “Maybe not so harsh on the tongue but-” He turned around when he heard a hiss, and he quickly understood why she’d thrown the expletive out there.
Her hand ran red with thick blood, dripping quickly down her arm, ruining her shirt. He didnt even care that his hand carved indian wood chopping board was permanently stained, or that the meat was contaminated, or that the blood trickled a little too quick over his floor, only that her eyes seemed suddenly far away as she did nothing to stop the cut gaping. It had caught her in a trance, one she was not even aware she had been sucked into until he grabbed a towel and headed for her.
“Emily, no! Emily please, I need medical in here, we have an agent down! Emily, please, please don’t, please- Someone get medical, she’s bleeding-”
David’s hands grabbed a hold of her bloodied palm, wrapping it tightly in the cloth, so harshly it knocked her out of the daze she was in, dragged her out from the last time there was blood all over her hand, when it had been Emily’s blood, when she could do nothing but freeze like she had now.
“I’m fine,” She said on a reflex, even though he hadn’t asked, he had just acted, pulling her towards the cupboard where he kept the first aid kit, “David, I’m totally fine, it’s just a little scratch,”
“You have to let me go,” Emily had gasped. "Let me go, Bug,"
“David, I’m fine, stop worrying,” She said again when she saw him fussing, hoping he couldn't see the way she’d started shaking, and if he had, she wondered if she could play it off as the adrenaline rushing to fix the wound.
She knew she was on thin ice with the lot of them after her talk with Aaron. Like he said, they were her family, and family’s took care of one another. She couldn’t live with herself if she kept burdening them so much, kept them from grieving their partner just as much as she was; she loved them too.
Bugsy was trying to get better, she really was. Sometimes it was just a little difficult, like now when she could still see Emily’s butchered body infront of her as if she were little more than that joint of pork she’d been julienning.
“It’s okay to get hurt sometimes, kid. You don’t have to lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt if it does,” David said, sitting her back on the breakfast table, holding the bloodied cloth up where he was unravelling a spool of bandage and some rubbing alcohol.
She shut up then, and she wondered if she was really that see through or if David was just that good at his job. They stayed silent, except for the moan of pain she let out when he doused her hand in the solution, pulling the skin closed tightly and wrapping it taut enough for her to feel her heartbeat in her fingertips.
“It’s okay if you need a little help once in a while,” He continued, his movements gentle and careful, worried he’d spook her with the first real conversation they’d had in a long time. Rossi had always been closer to Emily than he had her, and maybe it was the fact he lost the few chances he had to be a father, or just the fact she reminded him so much of her older sister, but being with her felt like part of the wound in his chest was the one being treated. “Rather than being afraid to ask for help, remember this: When you ask someone to help you, you are actually doing them a tremendous favour by giving them an opportunity to feel needed.”
“Is that a David Rossi original, or did you get that from one of your self help books?” She sniffed, hoping he didn’t see the way her expression had fallen, or her throat caught with an apology, or how she hid it with a small smile.
“Richard Carlson.” He replied, pinning the end of the bandage in tight enough it wouldn’t snag. He sighed, looking at the girl who started guiltily at her fingers, reaching behind her for the corkscrew, “I’ll go get the Sauvignon, you order us a pizza. Just please god, no pineapple, that’s just as bad as instant noodles in my books. That’s like asking Da Vinci about bitcoin, it’s madness,”
And that was the first time she properly laughed in weeks.
While Derek was more than equipped to schmoozing the ladies when he wanted a date with them, he had not been ready for this when he’d asked Bugsy to go to the club with him.
She had been doing better, Rossi had said. She had seemed stronger, that was what Hotch had told him. Spencer said they’d even gone for coffee together. He left out the part where it felt awkward and almost like they were seeing an ex, though that of course would be impossible, because they were never dating. At least as far as he knew anyway.
It had been going fine, they’d gotten two rounds of drinks, had been chatting and she’d even been giggling the more the alcohol hit her. She was looking more like she used to, and it almost all felt like a horrible dream hearing from the rest of the team the state she was in.
He’d turned his back for a second, for two damn seconds, and she’d been whisked away by some frat boy, and come back to him with a crazy happy look in her eye that he didn’t notice until an hour later.
“Where did you go, kid?” He’d asked, and she’d shrugged like it was nothing.
“Needed the bathroom,” She said, and he hadn’t even noticed it was a lie until the light struck her eye for more than a couple seconds and he saw just how dilated her pupils were, like the blackness swallowed her iris whole, and the way she buzzed on the spot with more energy than she’d had in months.
She was supposed to be getting better, and she was trying, really she was.
But she couldn’t stop seeing the blood on her hand, couldn’t stop seeing Emily’s face now she could actually sleep again.
Spencer was half way through his fourth re-read of War and Peace, in its original Russian translation, when he got the knock on the door.
It was 10pm, he muttered to himself, who was bothering him at this time.
But of course, as luck would have it, it was the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about, the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past three years.
“Spencerrrrrrr!” She chirped, and immediately alarm bells were ringing in his head, her fingers linked with Morgan’s as if he’d all but pulled her to his apartment from the cab.
She wasn’t stumbling, and she smelled a little like alcohol, but not so much that her inhibitions would be completely destroyed, so he knew it wasn’t that. And Derek looked guilty, a serious kind of guilty like he’d suggested they take a drive on a motorbike with no helmet, or go chasing unsubs unarmed.
It wasn’t until she flung her arms over his shoulders, and he’d pulled her inside, Morgan following behind with a nervous clear of his throat that he realised what it was.
“Spencerrrr, I missed you! I missed you so much, Spencer!” And usually he’d love the way she said his name, but this time it was tainted, too false, too electrified. It barely even sounded like her, he hated the way his heart still pounded out of his chest at the fact she pressed herself so close in that little clubbing top of hers, those tight jeans.
“What did she take?” He ignored her little hums of a song he couldn’t hear, the way she pushed herself even further into his body in a way he knew too well felt like a warm hug throughout her entire being. “Morgan!”
Spencer had never snapped at him, not since his own days on whatever it was he was doing, and Morgan ran a hand over his face as she nuzzled her nose into his neck.
“I don’t know, I swear. I turned my back for two seconds to get us another drink, and next thing I know this senior is hitting on her and she’s shoving gum in her mouth and coming back towards the bar- I don’t know what it was, I swear I thought it was gum, man,” Derek rushed, hating the look of desperation in Spencer’s eyes as he yanked her away from him with a small mewl of protest from her mouth.
“Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me,” He murmured, and she did, and he saw almost immediately the way her pupils were the size of saucers when she stared at him, crazed and intoxicated, “Do you remember what you took? I need to know so I can keep you safe,”
“You always keep me safe, so safe with Spencer,” She giggled to herself, trying to pull him back to her, but he wouldn’t budge, not until he got a real answer, “Come on, I’m going to be fine, it was just a little Molly, nothing to worry about. Kid even gave me a half for like ten dollars because he said I was reeeeeal pretty. Do you think I’m pretty Spence? I think you’re pretty, I think you’re super pretty,”
They felt themselves sigh in relief, because while still a drug, half of one pill shouldn’t really do much, especially if it was the cheap stuff going around frat houses that the DEA was having a field day with.
Morgan looked at Spencer, where he let her shove her face against him once more, wrapping his arms around her back and feeling her sigh in relief that she was back there under his warm touch, and they shared the same thought.
This never happened.
Because if it did, it meant opening a can of worms Spencer had tried for years to shut tight. It meant acknowledging that the reason Morgan came to him and no one else was because he knew Spencer would know how to handle her when she was coming down in an hour or so. It meant acknowledging why Spencer would know that, and why they hadn’t acknowledged it the first time around. It meant their jobs would be on the line, and so was hers, and as much as she was struggling at the moment, they knew she just slipped up, and that this wasn’t who she was. They knew she could be better, that Spencer would force her to get better, because if the only other option was having her turn into who he used to be, then he was handing in his notice first thing Monday morning.
That wasn’t an option in Spencer’s books, nor was it in Morgan’s.
So Morgan left with a little pat on the back of her head, claiming she was a little troublemaker, though he hadn’t quite sounded as teasing as he’d intended and more bitter, and leaving Spencer with her to minimise the damage.
Bugsy let him lead her to the spare room that once was hers, but she didn’t quite care enough to say anything other than, “I missed you so much,” As she pushed her face into his neck more.
He sighed, sitting her down on the bed, knowing where she’d left some of her makeup wipes in his bathroom.
“Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” But she whined again, making a grab for his hand, which he quickly avoided, feeling mean for it the moment he saw her face scrunch in hurt. He stroked her hair behind her ear, watching her melt under his touch, and it almost felt like nothing had changed, like she had never moved out, and like she hadn’t just burst back into his life after popping a bit of molly and turning his evening upside down, “I missed you so much, too, Bug,”
And he wasn’t lying. Not even a little bit.
She looked up at him with those dazed pupils, as big as dimes as they batted up at him dreamily, and some awful part of him always wanted her to be looking at him like that, like everything he ever did in his life was perfect and he was a god among men. Like she was seeing her favourite movie for the first time on the big screen, when in reality he was just wiping her makeup off her face and handing her spare clothes to change into so she could sleep off the come down.
It wasn’t until he tried to leave again to go get her some water that she put up a real fight, one that couldn’t be fought off with a gentle touch (he tried), and she was quick to grab his wrist, tug him closer to her.
“Bug, I’m getting you-”
“Come lay down with me, let’s talk. I love talking to you, why haven’t we talked in so long?” She said like every barrier she ever put up had come tumbling down and her mouth was a free for all for her every thought.
Spencer smiled despite himself, his honeycomb eyes soft as he shuffled to lay beside her, and they stared at one another, heads against the same pillow, and she looked soft than an angel laying on his bed waiting for a response. She looked happy for the first time in a long time, and he hated how much it suited her.
“You moved out, remember, bug? You said you wanted to go home and I didn’t want to stop you,” He said gently, like he didn’t want to upset her. But she just giggled and shook her head like he’d told her a joke.
“Oh, yeah. But I didn’t really want to go home. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you forever,” Bugsy giggled to herself, wiggling her toes inside her socks and running a finger up his arm gently as she lay on her side, “I missed you so much,”
His brow furrowed, “What do you mean you didn’t want to go home?” But she wasn’t listening, she was tracing over his face with her fingertip, running over his nose gently, past his full lips that quivered under her touch, “Bug,”
“Hm?”
“What do you mean you didn’t want to go home? Why did you leave?” He asked again, and she looked back up at him with a shrug, shuffling closer to him, so close he could feel her breath fan over his cheeks.
“I thought here with you was my home. I wanted it to be.” She said, her fingers finding their way into his nightshirt, “But I felt too guilty being so sad all the time, like I was getting my sad all over you and you couldn’t do anything about it because I was the loser girl with the dead sister you had to look after,”
His eyes burned with emotion, and he willed himself not to cry, because suddenly it made sense why she had pulled away so fast. She looked at him like he’d hung the damn cosmos in the sky; had he not even paid attention to the letter she’d written Emily. She felt like she was dragging him down, the way she felt about everyone in her life, and decided to cut herself free before she took him with her. And look where that had landed her.
He felt like a fool.
“No, no,” Spencer whispered, pulling her into his arms, because he was scared that come morning she would take a million steps back and up and leave him all over again, “That’s not true, that could never happen, you hear me? I liked taking care of you, I wanted to take care of you.”
“Really?” She asked hopefully, her face soft and dream-like, “I liked taking care of you too, when you would let me,”
It was true he had tried to push his own feelings on the back burner, besides the few times the dam had cracked and he wound up with his head in her lap receiving the brunt of the affection that evening. He didn’t know why he ever doubted she would have wanted to do that; when he had his migraines she had done nothing but love on him until he felt full to the brim of her warmth.
He felt himself chuckle, and she shuffled entirely into his arms then squashing out any last molecule of space left between them, and his hand slid over the back of her head, fingers rubbing softly into the nape of her neck which only made her moan loudly, entirely unaware of how sensitive her skin was from the molly.
“That feels nice, Spencer,” She hummed, her thighs straddling his own as she squished herself against him more, “You feel so nice, I love you so much.”
He would be lying if he said the sounds she was making didn’t shoot straight to his dick, and hoped more than anything that she couldn’t feel how it pressed against his stomach angrily. His heart beat rattled loudly, and he swore she had to be able to hear it.
“I love you too,” Spencer sighed, wishing he could have said this to her sober. Wishing she wouldn’t shut him out so easily, wishing he’d pushed her walls a little harder.
Then she did something he wasn’t expecting. It took all of two seconds for him to close his eyes and hum in content, where her hands were playing with the soft of his waist, and his fingertips stroked her jaw gently, but in a quick movement she planted her lips on his in a soft, sweet peck that he barely had time to register was happening before he pulled away in shock.
She kissed him. She had kissed him.
And he wanted her so badly, wanted her in every way it was possible to have someone, wanted to kiss her so hard his face went blue and his lips went numb and his throat burned with lack of oxygen. But he would never dare do anything when she was like this; vulnerable, intoxicated, unaware that the pill she’d taken had acted like a truth serum.
“We’re so silly,” Bugsy giggled, and for a moment she looked twenty two again, like the girl that had answered the door to him in college in nothing but her boxers and a shirt, with her metal music playing so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears minutes after she’d switched it off. She looked like his Bugsy again.
Spencer chuckled with her incredulously, feeling his face on fire from her action, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest that had been immovable for months, because as hard as her come down would hit her, things seemed different now, like they actually had a kicking chance of getting through the grief together.
But before he could say anything else, her eyes had fluttered shut under the warmth of his palm, and she had drifted off to sleep.
He guessed he’d have to tell her tomorrow.
–
taglist:
@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions@the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @sadbae-33
#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds#matthew grey gubler x reader
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Not A Verstappen: Away We Go {1}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris
Summary: Autumn has been introduced to the world but there’s something more special for a first appearance: Monaco GP
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, fluff
WC: 3.7k
F1 Masterlist
NAV: Sibling Rivalry || One || Two || Three
NAV: Gridlocked || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine
NAV: A New World || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten
NAV: Lights Out || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine
NAV: Away We Go || One || Two
The white noise in the nursery threatened to put you to sleep too but there were still dozens of messages to get through. There had been a constant stream of well wishes to your inbox since the announcement to the world but one had been left on read for three days now and a little rage built each time you reread it.
It didn’t take long for new ‘exclusive’ information to pop up in the gossip pages, along with the photo you had taken and sent to Jos. It wasn’t a surprise at all, but it still hurt to read what he had said. Trusted sources close to Y/N say she is being monitored for Post Natal Depression and Psychosis, as it is no secret she has had trouble with mental health in the past.
“You are lucky, my love,” you whispered to your daughter who slept soundly in your arms. “Your fathers love you so much.”
You carefully stood up from the rocking chair beside her cot but the moment you started to lower her to the mattress she began to stir.
“Already a little arm princess, aren’t you?” you chuckled, settling back into the chair to start rocking again.
You didn’t mind getting these rare moments alone with her, even if you were exhausted from waking up to breastfeed her all through the night. As soon as Charles and Lando finished their Zoom Meetings with their teams they would be stealing her away for their own snuggles. It was safe to say everyone was smitten with her. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. The front door barely closed before another visitor came, and Max had taken up permanent residence on the couch when he wasn’t needed elsewhere.
“Is she sleeping?” P whispered loudly as she stuck her head in the door.
“She is, but you can come in.”
Max trailed in after her having let himself in the apartment with his spare key. Your mother was out grocery shopping again so she could do more baking for the visitors of the day. You had told her she didn’t need to but she was enjoying the company and feeding a small army.
“Have you eaten?” Max asked as he knelt down beside P who gently stroked the blanket Autumn was swaddled in.
“You’re as bad as my mother.”
“I’m just checking. Kel said everyone comes to see the baby but no one asks how the mum is doing. I want to make sure my sister is okay too.”
“Now you’ve done it,” you croaked as you started to cry. “I’m over these damn hormones. I was fine until you arrived.”
Max laughed and rocked side to side. “You’ll get over it. Should we go to the living room or do you like sitting in the dark?”
You accepted his hand and let him pull you to your feet since he had long ago mastered the art of carrying a baby one-handed. “You’re going to have your hands full when Vicki drops.”
“I have two arms. Unless you're planning on having another one right away?”
“Max, I love you, but I will punch you if you ask that again. I am still having to sit on ice pads because no one warned me about the goddamn haemorrhoids-”
“Okay, okay, fuck, stop!” he begged with a disgusted look on his screwed up face.
Satisfied he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, you went to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water and a juice box for Penelope.
“So Toto still hasn’t confirmed anyone for Lewis’ seat next year,” you said, passing him one bottle before taking a seat with P.
“You’ve been talking to him?”
“And others,” you admitted. A few more of the Team Principals had sent their congratulations and the ones with empty seats for 2025 expressed an interest, asking what your plans were. “As soon as my six week check up gets signed off Kristian is going to become my worst nightmare again.”
“Do your boyfriends know that’s your plan?”
You shrugged. It had been spoken about before Autumn was born but they all thought having her in your arms would change your mind about returning to racing. None of the other parents on the grid gave up their careers to grow their families, and while there were still empty seats in the teams you were going to shoot your shot until every last one was taken.
“Never let them know your next move,” you joked before sobering up and sighing. “Working mums are normal in every other business. Plus, I’m only talking about sim racing this year and if I can impress someone with the data then we can go from there.”
Max nodded along as his eyes traced over Autumn’s features, finding Charles’ dimples when her lips pursed with a soft whimper in her sleep. Penelope had finished her drink and turned all her attention to your daughter, giggling whenever Autumn sucked on her own lip.
“Can I have a baby sister?” she asked Max with bright, hopeful eyes.
“Maybe one day, P. You would make a great big sister.” She grinned at the compliment and snuggled closer until she was half on Max’s lap and holding Autumn too.
Monaco GP
“Ma fifille, tellement belle,” Charles gushed as Lando stepped out of the nursery with Autumn in his arms. She smelt sweet from the baby oil that hydrated her skin and fresh since Lando had changed her diaper before finding the prettiest dress in her closet for her first paddock entrance.
“I’m surprised he didn’t try to sneak her into McLaren gear,” you commented as you packed the baby bag with extra supplies for the day. Gone were the days of arriving at the paddock with just your phone, now there were a million things to remember since no one wanted to try to return home with the insane traffic that came with the road closures for the Monaco race.
“I hid them all,” Charles confessed with a sly smile before stealing a kiss from Lando’s pouting lips. “If she can’t wear Ferrari then she definitely isn’t wearing McLaren, mon cher.”
“One day when you are at Maranello…” Lando warned with a wink.
“You can finish this squabble later, we have a whole camera crew waiting outside.” The tone wasn’t quite as light as you hoped and it drew the attention of both of them straight to you. The joking smiles fell and Lando lay Autumn in her stroller and clipped in the buckles with a frown. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”
“You only gave birth four weeks ago, love, it’s okay if you’re not ready to go to the track yet.”
“We wouldn’t be upset if you watched from here,” Charles added.
“It’s Monaco and I am fine, just a little nervous.” Your blasé shrug didn’t fool either of them.
“Of what?”
Charles took over rocking the stroller back and forth so Lando could pull you into his arms. The warmth and security of his embrace was always enough to spill whatever was on your mind.
“The crowd, the cameras, your fans - take your pick.” You looked down at your clothes. They weren’t the designer dresses the other women would wear to the paddock but the maternity jeans and breastfeeding friendly shirt were tidy enough. You couldn’t help noticing the pouch where your belly sagged like a deflated balloon.
“Hey,” Lando murmured, catching your chin with his finger and guiding your head back up to face him. “Do we need to remind you how beautiful we think you are? I don’t mind being late. Charles?”
“I am more than happy to take a penalty.”
You chuckled at the enthusiasm but shook your head. “I would love nothing more than to drag you both back to the bedroom but save it for the six week sign off, you horny devils.”
“We can still show you how sexy we find you without fucking you,” Lando whispered in your ear and Charles’ eyes darkened at the little catch in your breathing.
“Don’t tempt me, but there’s still the problem of the camera crew outside and you’d be on your own explaining to them why we were late.”
“Mon amour, that is the man who asked Stroll if he could wank after breaking his wrists. Would you really trust him with that task?”
“I mean…I would find it funny. Zak might blow a gasket though,” you admitted with a grin. Feeling a bit more at ease after a laugh, you stepped out of Lando’s arms and took a steadying breath. “I’m going to grab a hoodie and we can go.”
Neither commented as you hid your body in an oversized Quadrant hoodie despite the summer heat but you barely made it halfway down the street before you asked Charles if you could push the stroller. There were too many people and too many screams for autographs that your heart started to beat erratically and your breath burned in your lungs.
“Are you okay?” Charles asked, ignoring the people beyond the security team that surrounded your group.
“Let her push, Charles,” Lando urged as he saw a sight he was familiar with in the mirror. It was rare for him in recent years now that he had you and Charles but he could remember the feeling of being out of control and the panic that came with it.
You grabbed the handlebar of the stroller and held on with a death grip in case someone broke through the security guards and knocked into it. Your knuckles changed colour from how tight you handled it and your legs pumped faster with the urge to get to the track and inside the walls of a team hospitality.
From the corner of your eye a shadow slipped through the bodies and your elbow flew out as your mind went straight to the worst case scenario. Was it an overzealous fan wanting a picture or a fanatic wanting to hurt your family?
“Ow, zusje, what the fuck?” Max asked as he rubbed at his ribs.
“Jesus Christ, Max, what are you doing? Don’t jump out at me like that.”
“She’s a little on edge right now,” Charles said quietly, acutely aware of all the cameras pointed their way.
“I can see that. Is it the crowd? Do you want me to call in reinforcements?”
Charles shook his head and walked quicker to catch back up to you. “We would probably be there by the time anyone came.”
Lactic acid burned your calves and reminded you just how hard you were going to have to work to get back to your pre-baby fitness but it felt good too. It brought you back to yourself in a way you had forgotten since becoming a mother and the endorphins from the exercise began to relax your body and mind.
Your pace began to slow and Lando smiled proudly like you had won a world championship. “Now can I hold your hand, love?”
You shifted your hold to the centre of the handlebar so you could still navigate the stroller and placed your hand in his. “Thank you,” you murmured as he kissed your knuckles.
“I would tell you not to worry but I don’t think it will make a difference,” he replied between waving to his fans.
“Aren’t you worried? There’s so many things that could go wrong.”
Lando stopped and turned with a serious look on his face that was only softened by the untamed curl that fell over his brow. “Of course I’m worried too, babe, this is our family and Autumn is the most precious part of it. But, I have to trust that we have done enough to protect her and you and Charles,” he said with a wave towards the security guards. “Do you remember how nervous you were before your first race? You could barely keep your food down and Pierre thought you were actually going to pass out during the Anthem.”
You rolled your eyes but a small smile leaked through. “Don’t remind me.”
“I would have caught you.”
“You were six inches shorter than me.”
Lando stood straighter and looked down at you. “That’s beside the point, I’ve more than made up for it now.”
“Yes, you have,” you said with a wink. “Much more than six inches.”
Charles interrupted the appreciative gaze you dragged over your boyfriend’s body. “Will you two please behave?”
A devilish smirk grew on Lando’s face. “Never, but I will go and sign some autographs before I get in more trouble.”
“Is it me or is he even more cocky?”
“Winning does that to a guy.”
Charles scoffed and curled an arm around your waist. “I will have to remind him what second place feels like, it’s my turn to win Monaco.”
Max laughed, reminding you that he was still there as you approached the paddock gates. “Half the grid thinks the same thing.”
“Well they have a chance with you starting P2,” you teased your brother before grinning at Charles who took pole position. “Take that chequered flag.”
You scanned your ID and the pass for Autumn too as everyone else did and clustered together on the other side again.
“Where are you going to be watching from?” Max asked as you approached his hospitality first.
“Homeboys box, but Toto wants a word so I’ll take bub there first.”
Max looked like he wanted to say something but his name was called out from his team waiting by the dark blue entrance. Instead he stepped forward and kissed your cheek before kissing Autumn’s and tickling her toes. “Tot zeins, mooi meisje.”
“She’s going to speak Dutch before me at this rate,” you complained as he walked away, still not knowing what he said to her.
���Learn quicker then.”
You threw him the middle finger that made him laugh before he disappeared and then it was your turn to say goodbye. Mercedes was the next garage followed by Ferrari then McLaren.
“We will see you before the race,” you promised as you unbuckled Autumn from her stroller and held her to your chest. The garages were tight enough as it was without trying to fit the pram inside too. “Say bye-bye daddy,” you said with a wave of Autumn’s little hand as she woke from her nap. “Love you.”
Charles and Lando both kissed her cheeks and said their goodbye before you received your own chaste kiss on the lips. “Call us if you need anything, I will keep my phone with me,” Charles promised before stepping away.
“Same, and these guys are going with you too,” Lando said with a nod to the security shadowing your sides. Your entourage joined you in Mercedes but thankfully took a wider perimeter since there was a fairly strict policy in who could enter the garages. Toto didn’t seem to mind the additions since you came bearing a pretty great gift.
“You are a beautiful time waster,” he said sweetly as he cradled Autumn to his chest. “I have work to do, little lady, yes, I do, but I’m not ready to hand you over, no, I am not.”
“I get the feeling that Jack will be getting a sibling soon enough,” you said to Lewis who swung back and forth on his chair with his headphones half on his head.
“I don’t think it’s Toto that needs convincing,” he said with a laugh. “It’s not his career that goes on hold, you know that.”
“I never would have said it before, but she’s worth it,” you admitted. “Still not sold on doing it again though, got one more championship to win.”
“I know that feeling,” he said wistfully. “Charles had better bring her to Maranello too.”
“I don’t think much work would get done if she was there,” you pointed out. “And like you said, you have a championship to win.”
Autumn suddenly decided that she was starving and started to cry as she nuzzled into Toto’s shirt and you laughed as you got up to retrieve her. “Sorry, bub, there’s no milk in those titties,” you teased as you picked her up. “Is there somewhere I can feed her?”
Toto looked around and shrugged. “Wherever you’re comfortable. There’s rooms down the hall if you want.”
“I’ve learned it’s not about my own comfort.”
“If anyone’s got a problem they are free to leave,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear and return to their work.
You took your seat again beside Lewis and unzipped the discrete opening on your shirt before unclipping the small window on your bra.
“Come on, man, she’s just trying to feed her baby. Get those cameras out of here,” Lewis said as he blocked the lens and started to herd the Netflix crew back out of the garage.
It had taken a week of trial and error before mastering the art of latching but now you had a routine and Autumn quickly fell back to sleep despite trying to keep her awake. Lando had joked he would sleep better if that was his routine too, at least you thought he was joking.
“Can you hold her please?”
Lewis didn’t need to be asked, he had been patiently waiting his turn since you walked in the garage. He even knew to draw soothing circles and pat her back to bring up her wind. “There’s those famous Uncle skills you bragged about.”
“Told you, I’m just down the road if you guys want a babysitter for date night.”
“I might take you up on that in a few weeks.” You looked over to Toto who was speaking to Bono and jutted your chin his way. “Has he mentioned anything about who’s in line for your seat?”
“Nothing set in stone, just lots of talk - or at least that’s what he told me.”
“Fair enough, you’re the enemy now,” you teased.
“Netflix is going to love this season. Did you see Nando re-signed?”
“Mhmm, I sent him a pot plant and instructions to wipe the floor with Lance. I think he’s taken it on board.” Fernando already had nearly four times as many points in the driver championship so far and you expected that to increase after the race.
“There’s rumours Lance is going to WEC next year, maybe there'll be another seat opening.”
“Fuck that,” you scoffed. “If I get a seat it’s going to be with a team that has some sense of loyalty. I’m sick of being dropped like a hot potato the second anything goes wrong. I’m desperate, but not that desperate.”
Lewis was about to be called for the driver parade and you realised just how quickly time had passed. “I should let you finish your rituals, we still have a few stops to make before the race.”
He handed Autumn back and gave you a hug. “Don’t lose that glow stressing about getting a seat, mama, enjoy your time with this little beauty. Che sarà, sarà.”
“Practising Italian already, huh?” you teased as you buckled Autumn into the stroller where she promptly fell asleep after the movement disturbed her. “I will keep your wise words in mind.”
The paddock was quieter as you made your way down the line of garages. Most guests would already be in the viewing spaces above the pit lane to watch the drivers parade so there weren’t many people for security to part.
“Ma’am,” the head guard called as he stood in front of an imposing suited figure. “He wants a word.”
You nodded your head and he moved to let the man through. “I’m kind of running late, Lawrence.”
“I just want to say congratulations,” your old boss said as he looked into the stroller and removed his sunglasses. “She’s very cute, you must be proud.”
“You could have sent a text message.”
Lawrence sighed at the frosty tone. “In hindsight things may have been handled a little callously but you should understand it was for your own good. This isn’t an office job that can be worked while pregnant, it would have been irresponsible as an employer.”
“I understand that, it was the fact you fired me without even talking to me first - I had to find out through the tabloids - and before that the way you let your son get away with treating his team is actually despicable.”
Lawrence pulled a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned his glasses as he stared off into the distance. “You’re not wrong, but we are working on his attitude and behaviour - discreetly.”
You raised an eyebrow but he wasn’t going to share anything further, instead he took one last look at Autumn and put the aviators back on his nose. Maybe there was some weight behind the rumours.
“Hopefully we’ll see you back on the grid at some point. You were one hell of a racer.”
“Am, Mr Stroll,” you corrected as you turned the brake off the pram. “I am one hell of a racer.”
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#f1 x reader
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If Only | L.M.
summary: You and Lucifer were bond through the soulmate system, but how could you be soulmates when he had Lilith?
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x fallen seraphim!reader
includes: kinda soulmate au? fluff, angst, mentions of death, lucifer feeling like a bad parent (that’s pretty much it, let me know if i missed any!)
a/n: i wrote this at night the other day. toward the very end i was very proud of what i wrote 😭🙏 time for my requests i’ve gotten !!!
Ever since Lilith left Lucifer seven years ago, he never expected to meet another who made his heart soar. He fell into a deep state of depression and only started to get out more when Charlie invited him to stay at the hotel after the latest extermination. He got his own royal suite and joined in on Charlie’s lessons, but it still wasn’t enough to keep up with his daughter’s upbeat attitude every day.
It wasn’t enough to help pull him out of his depression until you came along to the hotel.
The moment you stepped into the hotel and greeted Charlie with the same enthusiasm made him smile. It was just another plus that you were a fallen angel, more so a fallen seraphim. And he swore that when you first met his gaze for that split second your eyes glowed pink as he felt his eyes do the same. He thought that would never happen again, but here he stood with an adoring face while you spoke to his daughter like you’ve known her since she was a child.
Soon enough, you and Lucifer were introduced to one another properly, the pink glow in both your eyes returning.
“It’s nice to meet the head man himself.” You grin as he kisses the back of your hand. “And such a gentleman as well.”
“What can I say? I’m quite the ladies' man.” He winked as he saw you burn bright.
As months passed since your first official interaction, you and Lucifer grew closer, bonding on your similar and different experiences. Whether you bonded over one of Charlie’s redemption activities or relaxed in his suite, you both found contentment in each other, letting each other enjoy the company.
“You know, I’m not going to relax when you keep tugging my book away.” You grab his wrist as he reaches for the book for the nth time in thirty minutes. “I’m going to leave your room.”
“Please don’t.” He tugged you closer to his side, head resting on your shoulder. “I don’t want to move from this spot again.”
You tilt your head toward him, eyes glowing a faint pink. “Then let me read.” You let a small smile slip through when he grumbled an incoherent sentence.
Lucifer’s eyes softened when you returned to read your book, watching your eyes scan the words in front of you. His mind and heart racing a million miles per hour whenever you were around. He couldn’t decide what was right. Was his heart telling him to move on? Or was it just aching to be affectionate with another?
The signs were pointing in different ways, but surely the answer was right in front of him. He just had to understand what it was before the magic between you two would fully disappear.
“Staring is highly distracting, Luce.” Your eyes flit up to meet him again. “I can’t focus.”
“You must really like me then.” He gave you a cocky grin
You roll your eyes, shutting the book. “You’ve ruined the book for me. I’m never going to finish that book now.”
“That book wasn’t good anyways.” He brought the comforter up and over the both of you. He locked his arms around your waist, pulling your back to his front. You felt yourself loosen up by his touch, letting out a small breath of exhaustion. “I’m spent after all the bonding activities today, beautiful. I think we can skip our kitchen run tonight and just go to bed.”
“Were you really waiting for me to finish reading so we could sleep?” You murmur as you feel him nod. You let out a small laugh, “Wow, I would have never stooped so low.”
Lucifer shushed you, “I’m sleeping, good night.”
A soft smile takes over your burning face, turning in his arms to face him. “Good night, Luce.”
He didn’t say anything else but quietly played with your hair, listening to your steady breathing as sleep consumed you. Lucifer always made sure you fell asleep first, wanting you to get a good night's sleep before he did. Yet, he didn’t exactly know when you both went from friends to whatever this was, but he wasn’t complaining if he got to see you sleep in his arms every once in a while.
And it wasn’t like Lucifer was the only one to notice your unusual relationship with one another. You noticed it as well. From the soft touches to the sleepovers at his suite, you knew it was more than just a simple friendship. But what could you do when he still wore his wedding ring?
“What’s happening?” You lay your legs across Lucifer’s lap, taking a glance at the news channel cast upon his suite’s television.
Lucifer rubbed your calf, golden ring a cold contrast to his warm fingers. “They’re interviewing Charlie for her hotel. They know how the extermination happened this year, so I’m hoping the questions are more targeted toward how her hotel will work than how it was fighting angels.”
You frown at the feel of his ring, even more so when he mentions the death of angels. “What happened the last time they interviewed her?”
He scoffed, “They were so rude to her. I mean, I understand we’re in Hell, but she’s their fucking princess. They only brought down her ideas, not asking enough about how she intends to accomplish redemption. I wish I could have done something back then, you know? Show them why I’m the King of Hell.”
You reach across to link a hand with his, giving him a small smile when he meets your glowing pink eyes that match his pair. “Luce, you’re a wonderful parent. I know you want to protect your daughter, but it’s in the past. She knows you love her and look at you two now! You’re supporting her dreams and whatever lies in store for them.”
“Thank you…” He felt the golden ring become heavy on his finger, an uncomfortable weight that was never there appearing. “You’re not half bad of a parent yourself.”
“What?” You let out a confused laugh, thumbing his hand. “I’m not anyone’s parent.”
“Yeah, but—“ He gestured toward the television where they switched the camera toward Charlie before switching to a quick commercial break. “—You've been more of a mother to Charlie than her biological mother in one year. The second you stepped into this hotel, she lit up around you.” His downturned smile grew bigger when you tilted your head. “Charlie may be a very trusting person, but she knows when someone is going to support her with anything she accomplishes. You were one of those people.”
You feel yourself warm at the small confrontation, “I’m sure she thinks of me as any other resident at the hotel, Luce. Don’t boost my ego, you have enough for the both of us.”
“Hey now.” He squeezed your leg. “I’m being nice, and you’re just hurling insults at my face.”
“Me? Never.”
He continued to rub a small pattern, thoughts running back and forth before turning back to you. “I’m serious though. She really loves you… Almost as much as I do.”
Your eyes widened, meeting his eyes that were now glowing a much brighter pink than usual. “You… I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I admire you a lot, beautiful.” He confessed, confidence boosting his voice. “Ever since I laid my eyes on you, and not just because of your looks. You handled Charlie better than I did in the last seven years, and I couldn’t ask for a better person to let her be herself when I’m not around.”
Your eyes glowed brighter at his words, squeezing his hand. “Lucifer, I admire you as much as you love Charlie, but it’s a matter of soulmates versus those of the past.” You gesture toward his ring, pursing your lips at the sight. “Are you sure you’re truly ready to move on? From the entire time I’ve known you, you’ve never taken that ring off.”
“I’m sure.” He let his hand holding yours drift up to cradle your cheek, snapping his finger to get rid of the ring and away in his back drawer. “She’s left me for almost a whole decade, I think I have the permission to move on.”
You melt into his hand, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. “If it’s what you really want, Luce.”
“It is.” He left a small kiss at your temple. “Because I know you’ll still be with me when all of Hell falls apart and all my magic is gone.”
“You’re so cheesy.” You lean back on the couch, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “Will you officially be mine, Lucifer Morningstar?”
“Always, beautiful.” He kept your hands linked as he pressed a promise kiss to your ring finger. “Always.”
©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
#august’s works 🫧#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar smut#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar#jeremy jordan#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel self insert#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel reader insert#hazbin hotel oneshots#hazbin hotel drabble#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin hotel blurb#hazbin charlie#charlie morningstar#charlie hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel lilith#hazbin lilith
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Comfort
Bucky x GN!Reader
Description: three instances of Bucky associating someone stroking his hair with comfort.
Warnings: fluff and angst, mentions of illness, period-accurate toxic masculinity, mentions of nightmares, no y/n used, only pronoun used is "you"
A/N: this is based on something I wrote for my self indulgent self-insert OC Juniper, where Bucky tells them the story of the first two memories and then decided I wanted to also do an x Reader with a similar idea.
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1930
One time, when Bucky was young, he was hit with an awful bout of illness. He felt like there was a hundred pound weight on his chest, and he couldn’t stop coughing. Steve kept trying to sneak in to go see his friend, but would be shooed away before he could actually see his friend. Rebecca, Bucky’s little sister, would slip notes from her and Steve under his door as often as she could, trying to remind him he wasn’t alone. One night, when his sickness got real bad, his mother came in to sit up with him. Since it was the Depression, she would be up pretty much every night working on sewing alterations until her fingers cramped and bled. But tonight, she was staying with her Baby Boy. She rubs Vick’s on his chest in hopes of soothing the cough, and sits by his bedside. When Bucky’s coughing gets so bad that he can’t fall asleep, she sits on the mattress next to him, running their fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. She saw how much it soothed him, and from then on whenever he was sick she would stay with him, running her fingers through her son’s hair to calm him.
1942
Bucky was an adult now, dressed in a soldier’s uniform and trying to pretend he was proud of that. He’d just gotten home from the Stark Expo, and found that his mother and sister had stayed up to wait for him. Rebecca hugs her brother goodbye before heading to bed, but Bucky and Winnefred stay up late talking. During the conversation everything hits him at once. He’d spent the entire day forcing a smile and pretending to be brave, being strong in front of his date, of Steve, of anyone who saw him and saw a young man ready to take on the world and fight for his country.
When in reality?
He’s been terrified ever since he learned he was drafted.
He broke down in front of his mother, telling her that he’s not ready, that he’s scared, and that he hates that he’s scared. That he’s a coward. But his mother shakes her head, and hugs her son tight. She doesn’t tell him to “man up” or that he needs to “get ahold of himself”, just held him and assured him that it’s okay, that he’s not a coward, that he’s not weak for being afraid. She took him back to his bedroom, getting him settled under the covers and sitting at his bedside, stroking his hair the same way she did when he was young.
“Rest now, James,” she whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “you don’t have to be strong tonight…”
Now
Bucky woke up screaming, drenched in sweat. He tried to take deep breaths, to calm himself down, but the nightmares that had forced him awake still ravaged his subconscious.
“Bucky?” He whipped around to see you, eyes tired but still filled with concern, “are you alright, Baby?”
“Yeah,” he gasped out, running a hand through his hair, “yeah, yeah, I'm…I-I’m…”
“Oh,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his back, “oh Sweetheart…”
You hugged him close, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
“Can you feel my breath?” You asked, running your fingers along his stomach. Bucky nodded, “good, Buck. Can you follow my breathing?”
He matched your breaths as best he can, and you held him until he calmed down. Once his breathing evened out, you pressed another kiss to the crook of his neck and smiled softly.
“What do you need to feel better, Sweet Boy?” You asked, “what do you need to go back to sleep?”
Bucky chewed his lip for a moment, trying to decide. His mind drifted to his youth, to his mother carding her fingers through his hair and the feeling of serenity it brought him.
“M-my hair,” he murmured. You looked confused, “will you stroke my hair for a bit?”
He didn't give you a chance to respond.
“Sorry,” Bucky's blue eyes wouldn't meet theirs, “that sounds stupid, but my Ma used to do it when I was younger but–”
“Shhhh,” you slid in front of him, “it's not stupid. Of course I'll stroke your hair.”
His blue eyes met yours, relief flooding his gaze.
“Lay back down, Sweetheart,” he settled himself on top of you, laying his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat. You cradled his head against your body, running your fingers through his dark hair. His eyes were already starting to feel heavy, and he nuzzled into your neck, a little hum escaping him.
“Get some rest, Bucky,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he started to give in to sleep, “I love you.”
The same feeling of serenity overtook him, and Bucky drifted off in his partner's arms.
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james barnes#bucky fanfic#mcu bucky barnes
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the monsters gone
part 3 of beautiful girl series -> part 1 -> part 2
leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader (wobbs as moms)
warnings: drug addiction, drug abuse, talks of illicit substances, depression, intrusive thoughts, would not advise for people in a bad mental headspace
You wanted her to leave, or you were desperate for a fix and well aware that it wasn’t going to happen until she was gone and you could retreat up to your room like normal.
You scratched at the incision on your forearm, it was hidden underneath your hoodie but you could feel it all the same, it made you feel guilty.
You’d never felt guilty for taking drugs, why would you? It was your choice, your body, your brain that you were fucking with. Yet for some reason, the little mark that you knew was sitting right on top of your vein was making you feel guilty. You didn’t want to admit it, but it felt oddly like the start of something, you weren’t sure what though, whatever it was though, it didn’t feel good.
When the door clicked open around 2 o’clock you felt far more at peace, watching your mom hobble through the door with Lia following her. Jordan stood up almost immediately and if the room hadn’t already been awkward then the awkwardness found a whole new definition as the two women looked at each other.
“Hey Jord, thanks for hanging around, you’re looking good.”
Your mom looked relieved to see Jordan, your ma on the other side looked slightly terrified as she eyed up the two women.
“It wasn’t an issue, you know I love spending time with my chick.”
Leah smiled, looking down at you on the couch, you buried your head in your phone, ignoring her gaze.
“Whether she admits it or not she likes seeing you as well.”
Your ma laughed awkwardly, it took everything in you to not burst out laughing at all of the tension between the two of them.
“Look I’ll be heading off, gotta me back in Birmingham for game review tonight but can we talk for a minute though Le?”
Your mom’s head cocked to the side, a look of curiosity evident on her face.
“Yeah sure, come with me.”
Lia watches them with the same look of curiosity as you, your eyes meeting as the trail back from the doorway to Leah’s office that they both step into.
“They’re talking about me.”
Lia doesn’t bother trying to ignore you or deny what you’re saying, she nodes her head.
“Probably, that’s what most parents do.”
It’s a absentminded answer, and for a second your aware that maybe Lia is in on whatever is happening, that she knows exactly what is going on behind the door. If anything important came from the phone call earlier you know Lia would be the first to know, she was like the third parent you never asked for nor wanted, but somehow ended up with.
“Ma thinks that Mom’s parenting is shit.”
Lia cocks her head, she’s harder to read then your moms, more calculated, more clean, less obviously emotional.
“She just disagrees with some of the things that your mother does, so do I. Nobody else is in her shoes though, she makes the decisions that are necessary and best for you.”
Lia sounds convinced of her words, even though you doubt them.
“Ma doesn’t think so.”
Lia bit down on her bottom lip, finishing with tucking her kit bag away so she could focus her attention on you.
“She worries about you.”
You did your best to suppress the eye roll, it didn’t work.
“She worries that mom is too nice and isn’t strict enough.”
Sometimes you thought that your mom compensated for the void between the two of you by letting you do whatever you wanted, other times you were reminded by your grandma that she’d told Leah she needed to go easy on you and that not everyone could be as perfect as Leah Williamson.
“Your mom knows what you need better than anybody else.”
The conversation paused, the two of you flinching at the sound of yelling from the other side of the door, you couldn’t make out what was being said, both of them were yelling though.
“Set the table for lunch for me, kiddo?”
You couldn’t pull your eyes from the door, you hadn’t hear your moms yell in a long time, it took you back to when they were breaking up, when they tried to act like they weren’t, when they saved the fighting and yelling for when you’d been tucked into bed and they’d thought you were asleep.
“Kiddo, table.”
You stood up from the couch, your eyes staying stuck to the door, even as you pulled cutlery from the drawer and laid it out with the placemats on the table. Eventually, the yelling ceased, and the room was over come with a silence like no other, only being broken by the door opening and your two moms walking out, both of them looking far more content considering that it had sounded like they were screaming at each other, not thirty seconds ago.
“Bubba, Jord is going to head off, if you want to say bye.”
Jordan’s arms opened up to you and as mad and confused as you were, you weren’t going to deny her. You walked around the table, leaning into her hug, wrapping your arms around her the same way she did for you, letting her hold on for a little bit longer.
“I’ll be back when I can chicky, I love you so much.”
You wanted to tell her she was lying, that they were all lying, they didn’t fucking love you, it was so fucking obvious. But for the sake of keeping the peace you didn’t.
“I love you too Ma.”
Jordan let go of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The same way she had when they’d adopted you when you were eight, the same way she had after your first game when you were 12, the same way she had when you were 14 and you’d been top of your form and given an award, the same way she had when she’d left for good when you were 16. It was the same kiss, yet everything about it was different, the meaning, the purpose, the intention, it was all different.
You watched as she walked out the door, the same as every time, you listened to the sound of her car starting and the sound of gravel underneath her tires as she pulled out and onto the road.
Once you were sure she was gone you turned around, sliding into a seat at the table, across from your mother, staring at her.
“What were you guys talking about?”
Leah looked at you, poker face as good as ever.
“Football, some other stuff.”
It was a obvious lie, both you and Lia knew it.
“You were talking about me, what about me?”
Leah rolled her eyes at you.
“It was a conversation between your Ma and I, not for your ears.”
You didn’t bat an eye as Lia set lunch down in front of you, to fixated on your mother.
“You don’t yell over nothing, what were you talking about.”
Leah pushed her tongue out against her lips.
“Your ma had some concerns about you, that’s it, I told her she had nothing to worry about and that we were doing just fine.”
You knew that even if you didn’t want to admit it, Jordan probably had some valid points, your mom seemed unphased though.
“That’s it?”
Leah looked at you, and you could tell that she was holding something back.
“She told me that you’d told her you smoked weed last night and that you were vomiting this morning.”
You tried to keep your face from changing, keeping the confident exterior even if you were slightly scared on the inside.
“I got drunk, I had some fun, it was no biggy.”
Leah’s eyebrow rose in the trademark question.
“It’s a biggy to me because you told all you were doing was vaping and a little bit of drinking, you said you’d be honest with me and it’s clear you haven’t been.”
You hesitated for a second, the air thickening around you as suddenly the tension was between you and your mother.
“I was just having some fun mom, I didn’t do anything stupid, I was safe, just like you asked.”
Leah’s face shrivelled up as you used her words against her.
“You were out with friends I’ve never met, at a house on the opposite side of town that I’ve never been too, Jord said you looked like you’d been on a three day bender and I told her that I didn’t believe her but now you’re here admitting it.”
You reached into your pocket for your vape, desperate for something to take the edge of the conversation off, to make you feel calmer.
You pulled it out and Leah’s face immediately pointed inwards.
“How many times do I have to say no vape at the table?”
You frowned, shoving it back in your pocket.
“It was just a bit of weed mom, it’s what kids my age do.”
Leah shook her head.
“It wasn’t just a bit of weed, I’ve been smelling it on your clothes for weeks and trying to tell myself I was being delusional because you’d told me you were just on the vape, that you had no interest in drugs and yet you were lying to me, you have been for a while bubba and I don’t know how to feel about it to be honest. I thought we were closer than most parents and kids, I thought we had boundaries and that I was giving you enough space, and now I don’t know what to think.”
You pursed your lips, struggling to find words.
“And if you’re lying to me about weed then what else is there? What else is there you aren’t telling me because there has to be more. I let you drop football, I relaxed on the school because I know you were struggling but this doesn’t work if you aren’t honest with me.”
You really didn’t know what to say, your mind was in a million different places, the container underneath your bed, the joints on your windowsill hidden behind the curtains, the three vapes in your bedside table, the drug dealer numbers in your phone, what had happened last night, the meth track mark on your arm.
“Nothing, it was just some weed, I just wanted something to take the edge off, it was no big deal.”
Leah’s eyes closed for a second and you knew this was all about to get a lot harder.
“Except it was a big deal because you’ve been doing it behind my backs for weeks, I’ve tried to be understanding bubba, I have, I know it’s been tough for you with me and Jords breakup, you’ve had a really hard year, I let the vaping slide, I let your attendance drop at school, but drugs bub, it’s no joke.”
You took a deep breath.
“It’s just some weed, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
Leah wants to say that if you’re this relaxed about being caught doing weed then she doesn’t want to know what else you’re hiding from her that would make you less relaxed, but she keeps it to herself, or for this moment at least.
“I want you to bring me whatever you have of it, I won’t have you smoking illicit and illegal substances underneath my roof.”
You figured there were worse things that could happen, she could find your stash, she could take your vape, she could ground you or make you go to school.
“Okay.”
Your mom nodded, happy she had at least won a small battle.
“After lunch.”
You nod again in agreeance, looking down at the caesar salad in front of you and stabbing your fork down onto it, picking up the different pieces of lettuce and chicken scattered throughout.
You make it through half the meal before you grab your bowl and pick it up, walking into the kitchen to do you washing up, your mom follows behind you, her bowl empty.
You take the dish from her, cleaning it out and stacking both of them in the dishwasher, knowing whats to come now.
You slow yourself down on the stairs giving her the time to follow behind you as she dragged her bad leg up every individual stair.
Leah had been putting in hours everyday for her rehab, it was her main focus, over everything else.
Eventually the two of you made it to the top of the stairs, and eventually to your bedroom door.
You hesitated before opening it, you couldn’t remember the last time Leah had been inside it, way before her acl, ever since she’d gotten injured she’d been avoiding the staircase.
You opened the door, hand pausing on the cold metal doorknob for a split second before pushing it open.
Your room was still freezing, you didn’t miss how your mother shivered from the breeze that hit her face immediately, coming straight from the open window.
“Jesus kiddo, you trying to replicate antarctica in here? You know I pay good money for heating, right?”
It’s a lighthearted joke, yet somehow it hurts for you, you don’t know how or why, you just know that it does.
“I like it cold.”
Leah looks at you, both brows furrowed inwards.
“Alright then polar bear.”
You try not to flinch away when her hand reaches up to ruffle your hair, it’s something she’s done to you since you were a kid, it feels wrong now though.
“Let’s just get this over and done with.”
You walk over to your windowsill, reaching behind the curtain and reaching for the bag of joints that you have stashed behind the material. Leah frowns as you walk back over to her, shoving the bag into her hands before she can even ask.
“This is all of them?”
She looks completely unconvinced, you probably would be too, most kids don’t give up their drugs willingly.
“Yes.”
Leah looks at you, eye to eye, like she’s trying to reach into your soul, or read your mind.
“Bubba, this is your chance, I’m giving you an opportunity to be straight with me, and whatever you tell me or give me I won’t be mad about. I might want to sit down and question your decisions, but I won’t be mad. Teenagers are stupid, they make mistakes, they try new things, I get it. Be honest with me bubba, please.”
You didn’t really know what Leah was insinuating, but it was clear that she knew there was a bigger picture here.
“That’s it mom.”
You had to tear your eyes away from her, you couldn’t handle the way that she was looking at you, the mix of disappointment, resentment and worry mixed into her blue irises.
“Bubba, don’t make me search your room, don’t make me have to ground you, don’t make me have to call Jord and get her to turn the car around to help me out.”
You brought your eyes back to Leah’s.
“That’s it mom, I don’t know what you want me to tell you, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
You were lying through your teeth and the fact you couldn’t look eye to eye with Leah would have been enough of a warning sign of that.
“Drugs bubba, that’s what I’m talking about, you’re lying straight to my fucking face right now, I don’t know what about or why but you are.”
You didn’t know what to say, you weren’t going to admit it, you couldn’t, but you needed to say something.
Fuck, you were so fucked.
You tried to spin it in your head, tried to think about how you could make this work out. You were caught, you were done, this was bad.
Your eyes darted to below your bed, rookie fucking mistake.
Leah caught your line of sight, and you knew as soon as she did that it was all about to go to fucking shit, that you were done for.
“Lia.”
Your mom’s voice was urgent, a yell that had the swiss woman bounding up the stairs in a matter of seconds.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You were so fucking fucked.
You were frozen in your spot, your mom’s eyes looking at you like she’d just been stabbed in the heart.
“Bubba, you can get whatever you are hiding from me or I will get Lia to tear this whole room a part, I’m not fucking around.”
You felt torn down the middle, your brain couldn’t think, you felt the same sickness sink in from this morning, instead of it being withdrawals from drugs though it was the realisation that your whole life was about to be turned upside down.
You tried to think, tried to think about how you could spin this, make it a little bit better than it really was.
Lia looked more uncomfortable then possible, you wished a blackhole would randomly pop up and swallow all three of you.
Something hit you, it wasn’t a full resolution but it was better than what you currently had going for you.
You walked over to your bed, with unsteadier legs then last night when you were so drunk the world was spinning, crouching down when you got to the edge, feeling for the familiar container that held all of your deepest darkest secrets, or at least that’s how it felt.
It took you back to a time when you’d made Leah check under your bed everynight for the monsters under your bed, now though she was looking for the monsters in your head, the monsters that had turned her little perfect girl into whatever you were now.
Your hand eventually met the hard plastic, you pulled it out, biting down on the inside of your cheek as you stood up and sat down on the edge of your bed.
Leah took a couple steps closer to you, standing directly in front of you.
“Look, it’s not mine, I only did it twice, my friends bought it over, I swear.”
Half of it was true.
“Open the box, bubba.”
You felt your throat tighten, you felt like you were going to vomit, or pass out, or have a heart attack.
“Mom, I didn’t want to, I don’t even like it, I just did it because my friends were, I swear.”
It was also another half truth.
“Bubba, open the box.”
You bit down even harder on the inside of your cheek, reaching for the edge of the plastic box and opening it, revealing the two baggies of white powder inside of it.
Leah’s face fell, in a way that you’d never seen, you’d seen her disappointed before, this wasn’t it, it was something else entirely and you weren’t sure what.
“Bubba.”
Your mom was a overly emotional person, you couldn’t handle her crying right now though, you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t deal with her pretending she gave a shit when this was the first time in months that it felt like she cared, and it was all because of Jordan, not on her own volition.
“I swear mom, I swear, it’s not mine, I promise.”
It wasn’t a lie, it hadn’t started out as yours, you’re friends had left it behind after a weekend hangout and had never asked for it back, so it technically wasn’t yours, technically.
“Bubba, what is it?”
Leah reached for the box, picking up the two bags, the bags that you felt like held your whole life together.
“Cocaine, it’s just a little bit of coke, my friends were using it before parties, I didn’t like it, it made me feel dizzy and it hurt my head.”
The cocaine bit was a lie, but the fact you didn’t like cocaine wasn’t, it was the kind of stimulant which put you into over drive, the high lasted no where near as long and it made you feel like you weren’t making sense.
You were hoping she would believe the cocaine, inevitably, cocaine was a pissy drug. Leah would have been at thousands of parties were cocaine was handed around, hell, you were fairly certain your mother had taken plenty of it. Cocaine was less addictive, good cocaine was also stupidly expensive, the value of it was fucked. Meth was cheap but a thousand times more addictive, cocaine was a better like.
“Lia, get rid of it.”
Your mom handed the bag of joints over to Lia, as well as the bags of drugs, shoving them into her hands like they were burning her hands.
“I don’t even know what to say to you bubba.”
Your mom looked genuinely at a loss for words, her eyes kept darting between your eyes and your hands, which were shaking in front of you.
“Mom, I promise, it was only a one time thing, really, I was just keeping it for my friends.”
As soon as the tears started spilling down Leah’s face you knew it was about to get bad.
She walked over to your desk, pulling the chair out from it and dragged it across the room until it was directly in front of you, your mother taking a seat.
Her hands came out to rest on your knees, they were shaking like yours, not as badly but still shaking, though for different reasons you assumed.
“You told me the weed was a one time thing, that was a lie. I don’t know what to believe anymore, you’ve put me in a impossible situation, bubba. On one hand, I want to believe you. I want to believe the kid I raised, on the other hand you haven’t given me reason to. You broke my trust, you lied to me, you broke the house rules. I don’t ask a lot of you, I let you get away with more than your ma would let you, and I was fine with it because you were showing me you were a good kid, but now I honestly don’t know what to think. You told me it was just the vapes, I thought you were using a little bit to much nicotine and now it turns out that you’re smoking pot and doing drugs. You’ve been hiding and lying and I just don’t get why. Why bubba? Tell me why.”
Big tears were dripping from your mothers eyes, big, wet, fat tears pooling in her icey blue eyes.
“I don’t know, okay? I’m sorry mom, I’m really sorry. I’m sorry. I love you, I didn’t mean it, it was just some fun, it was a one time thing, I promise.”
Leah pursed her lips, the same way you were, the sleeve of her shirt was pressed to her face, picking up the tears that were dripping down her jaw.
“I’m going to go and call your ma, this is a discussion we need to be having together, I need her here for this.”
Little did they know how bad it really was.
Leah stood up, you thought she would just leave, heading back down to make a call to your ma that would inevitably change your life, instead, she sat down next to you, her arms opening up.
You leaned into her side, letting her wrap both of her arms around you.
“I’m sorry mom, I’m sorry.”
It was the only thing you could think of saying, the only thing that sounded right coming off the tip of your tongue.
“I love you so much my beautiful girl, we’ll figure this out, your ma and I, we’re all going to figure this out.”
Leah held onto you for a little bit longer, her arms tightening onto you like you were holding her down to earth, like she would float away if she didn’t.
Eventually she let go, her face was puffy and red, her sleeves were red and she sounded all sniffly.
“I’m going to go and phone Jord, we’re going to sort it all out, we’ll figure this out, okay? We’re both here for you, we both love you so much, you’re our little girl.”
You found it weird how easy it slipped off of her tongue, you wondered if she actually believed that she meant it, you wondered if when your mother said it that she meant it without really meaning it. There were words but there were no actions to support those words, just empty syllables and letters all formed together in a intricate lie.
You watched as Leah limped her way out of your room, her bad leg trailing behind her good one, rule number one of parenting a child you now know is drug addicted, never leave them alone in a room they can escape from when you’ve just confronted them.
#woso#woso community#sammykworshipper thoughts#leah williamson#arsenal wfc#leah williamson x reader#jordan nobbs x reader#jordan and leah#jordan nobbs#wobbs breakup#its painful#trauma dumping#tears were shed#woso imagine#woso angst#sammykworshipperfics#pain sweet pain#fluff is coming#maybe
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Scars
Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x pale!fem!reader (see immersivity warnings)
Join my taglist : Masterlist
Summary: You and Joel are taking things slow, really slow. You find that he's easy to open up to about your depression, but you find it's hard to tell him the full extent.
Warnings: Talk of depression and self harm, self harm scars, descriptions of said scars (healed, not bleeding or recent) piv sex, oral f!recieving. Comfort sex. first time between couple, not loss of virginity.
Immersivity: Reader is fem, no specified age. This is a fic i started last year when i was doing very, very poorly and relapsing. I wanted to write something for myself. I usually really try to make things as inclusive as I can but the descriptions of scars are detailed and they are detailed to my skin, which is pale. I'm sorry, but I wanted to write this for myself. I support people writing fics specific to themselves, their skin tone, their hair type, their wieght etc, as long as it's labled right. @fandxmslxt69 said i could do it and said if anyone has a problem, come to her <3
***************
"And the scars remind us that the past is real" Scars, Papa Roach
Joel hadn’t minded when you said you wanted to take things slow. He didn’t mind one bit. Being a dad of a preteen , albeit an easy one, didn’t leave him with much opportunity to move fast. He was busy. In fact, he hadn’t really intended to date at all, at least until Sarah was in college if that… but you had sparkled your way into his life accidentally, and he was trying his best to balance it all. You were understanding, patient, you didn't get mad if he had to rearrange plans or cancel because something with Sarah or work came up, and he thought things were going well. You were beautiful, fun, and the few times you’d briefly met Sarah, she seemed to like you. That was a necessity. Joel absolutely refuses to date someone that made Sarah unhappy, but Sarah had made a few references to him and dating before he met you anyway, so she seemed okay with it. It wasn’t like he had a relationship with her mom, as much as Joel had tried to foster something… her mom hadn’t been interested.
Tommy was a lifesaver. When he noticed Joel had been struggling, Tommy sat him down and asked to help him. Tommy asked Joel.
“You deserve a life.” Tommy had insisted.
“Sarah is my life.”
“Joel, you deserve m-”
“Don’t say I deserve more, Tommy. Sarah is enough. I don’t need more.”
Tommy sighed. “I know, brother, but can I at least help you out a bit? Give you a little free time to see that pretty girl of yours?”
Tommy had only met you once, but he liked you too. Joel acquiesced, letting Tommy take care of taking her to soccer practices (but he would NOT miss a game). This did end up being a big help and Joel had more and more time to see you… and when Tommy took Sarah out for a movie or she had plans with friends, he found more and more time alone in the evening with you.
Joel didn’t want to take his hands off your body the first time you and him made out on his couch, but when his hand went to feel up your breasts, you noticeably tensed. Fearing he overstepped, Joel quickly pulled back and apologized. Both of you nervous messes, it took a moment before you and Joel got full sentences out.
“Shit, I’m sorry-”
“No no it’s okay!”
“I just thought-”
“And I want too-!”
“No, I didn’t mean for anything tonight-”
“Oh, uh, right-”
“Not that I don’t want to!”
“Me too!”
Eventually, Joel clarified he was just enjoying feeling you, he didn’t want you to feel pressured into anything ‘like that’, and you explained he can touch you like that, you just wanted to wait a little bit… You sat back, nervous, but figured now was as good a time as any.
“Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about, if we could…” You shuffle on the couch.
Joel looks nervous, but open. He wants to know you, good and bad, and if something was bothering you, he wanted to know. “Of course, I’m all ears.”
You take a deep breath. “Do you know what depression is?”
“Oh. Uh, yeah, I have an aunt with it but we don’t really talk about it much… Sometimes Sarah’s school sends her home with pamphlets… so I know a little, I guess.” That’s not what he was expecting.
“Well… I have it.”
“Oh.” He says again, dumbly. “I'm sorry. Or… am I not supposed to say that?”
You can’t help laughing a little. He was sweet, and he was trying. “It’s okay, Joel, and thank you. Well, about 6 months ago I started therapy and started taking an antidepressant, and things have been a lot better but… I need you to understand, things can get really dark for me sometimes and… it can be a lot for other people to deal with. I promise, it’s nothing dangerous to others!” You quickly add when you see his confused face. “It’s just, sometimes I’m not myself… and, if that’s not something you can handle, I want you to know that’s okay.”
Joel sat there for a moment, looking at you. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what depression was… but in the South, it wasn’t like they talked about that sort of thing much. Still, he liked you… he liked you a lot, actually, and he wanted to be there to support you. He couldn’t just run away from difficult times, not when he had a preteen. It would mean he wasn’t fit to be there for Sarah…
“I wanna be there for you.” Joel assured you, to your growing smile. “I may not know how to, but I wanna try my best.”
You smile more, and scoot up next to him, in turn Joel lays an arm around you. “Thank you, Joel”
Still, you were nervous… because Joel hasn’t seen you without sleeves… nonetheless without clothes.
*
In the end, it was almost 4 months before you had sex. Physically, you’d taken things slow, but emotionally you hadn’t at all. You were in love, and you’d both told each other as much. Tommy had given Joel shit for committing to a girlfriend without having sex, but Joel had told Tommy he could talk after he got an actual girlfriend, not hookups. Still, Tommy wanted to provide a good opportunity for Joel to fuck you the way Joel would want to. Sappy and romantic. So, when Sarah’s favorite band Halican Drops was coming to Housten, Tommy offered to pay for them to go and for a hotel.
Joel had tried to protest, saying it was too expensive, saying he wasn’t sure he wanted Sarah that far away, and that he should just come, but Tommy smacked him on the head.
“Dumbass, I’m giving you a night with your girlfriend!”
When Tommy promised not to have a single drop of alcohol, text every hour, not let her stand by any men, call when they leave the venue and get to the hotel ETC, Joel allowed it to happen. Sarah was ECSTATIC, being the first concert she’d ever been to, and although a teeny bopper band wasn’t exactly on Tommy’s dream list, he was excited to be a cool uncle. Also, Joel needed to get laid. He was getting cranky at work.
The night itself was a lot of fun. Joel took you to a nice restaurant, and after you came back to his place and changed into more comfortable clothes, you’d spent the night watching American Idol. Joel was very critical.
As the night progressed, your nerves grew as you knew where the natural progression of the night would take you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to fuck Joel; you really, really wanted to. And you weren’t nervous about him. You knew Joel would stop if you said stop. What you were nervous about was your body. Joel looked good, but he had a bit of a stomach himself so you didn’t think he’d be worried about your shape or small imperfections… Joel was a gentle soul, kind, loving. Yeah, that wasn’t the worry. The worry had been on your skin.
In the middle of winter, you’d managed to not show much skin around him, with jackets and long sleeves and pants… but it was inevitable. Joel had been a wonderful support to you these 4 months, holding your hand, listening to you when you cried. Slowly you opened up to him about the circumstances that meant you needed extra help, and he was everything you could ask for.
But how would he react to this?
Joel had you laid out on the bed, both of you still dressed and his pajama covered pants grinding into your warm cunt. Joel sure liked to take his time.
“We don’t gotta do noth’n, you know that right?” Joel muttered into your neck, drunk on you but still being respectful like the gentle man he was.
“I know”
He pulled back. “Then why’dya seem so nervous?”
You look up at him, wide eyed and nervous, but you needed this… you needed to tell him the truth. “Joel…”
He got off you, standing up at the edge of the bed. The massive, rock hard erection in his pants couldn’t have been comfortable, but his willingness to stop anyway meant a lot. It was a low bar but it was there.
“We can stop, I’m sorry-”
You sit up on your elbows. “It’s not you, it’s just um… I should tell you something before we start…”
“Okay.” He was few on words, but he looked receptive.
You weren’t sure how to do this, how to open up that conversation… so you decided just to show him. Lights still on, you begin to take off your shirt.
Joel tried to stop you. “Hey, hey, no, let’s talk.”
You smile at him. “We will, Joel, just… let me show you…” After the shirt was off, you slid off your pants and laid on the bed, spread out and close to naked in a bra and underwear.
“Jesus, darl’n…” Joel mumbled, taking in the sight before him.
Scars littered your body.
It wasn’t a few, it was a lot, and the coverage was significant. Joel’s eyes roamed your body, cock softening quickly despite your near-nakedness and took in the expanse of the scaring. Your thighs were the most noticeable, pink slaves across your skin from the hips to mid-thigh. His hand reached out instinctively, but pulled back. You noticed.
Your voice was soft, reassuring. You knew he was confused and curious. “You can touch me, it’s okay.”
He does. Joel’s fingers a feather light across your skin, feeling the way the scars dipped and raised depending on severity. There there cuts, but also burn mark; small circles from cigarettes twisting up the patterns more. It was all over, reaching back to the curve of your ass. His eyes followed the trail up and the cuts became less in intensity and number, but never stopping over your hip bone and to your stomach. These were lighter; less that split open the skin but the silver lines were still raised over the belly fat as his fingers touched you. Your bra-line showed more burns, and he stopped short of the cloth.
You take his hands and guide Joel to reach behind you to unclasp the bra, allowing him to pull it up and reveal your breasts. His eyes water as he sees the scars never stopped, marring your breasts, although not nearly the horrific amount on your thighs.
“I don’t understand…” He mumbles, sadness and distress clear in his eyes. “You did this to yourself?” Joel takes your hand in his, examining the scars making a ring around your wrist. He kissed the inside, eyes threatening to pool over.
You nod. “Yeah…”
His voice cracks. “But… why?”
“Sometimes…” You start, overcome with emotions at the clear pain on his face. He loved you so much, the thought of you in this much pain hurt him as well. “It was all I could do to cope.”
He didn’t seem like he understood, but he wasn’t judging you. He didn’t look at you like a freak like so many others did. He just knew he didn’t want you to feel this way again.
“I havn’t done it in a while.” You give him a smile. “You make things easier. I mean, I’m still… yeah… but you do make things much better.” He did. Having someone who held you, listened to you, helped pick up the pieces… it wasn’t going to cure you, but it was amazing how much support helped with the addition of meds and therapy.
Joel relaxed at that, a relieved and gentle smile on his face. “I’m glad, darl’n…” He held you hand to his face, chapped lips nuzzling against your damaged skin. “”M here to take care of you now, okay? I wanna help.”
“You do.” You assure him, pulling his face down to you again and taking his mouth in yours. “You mean so much to me Joel, you make me so happy…” His body covers yours once more, his warm encasing you as he protectively holds you.
“You’re safe with me.” Joel mutters against your mouth, fingers digging into your soft flesh.
You pull him closer to you, grinding yourself up against him, enticing him again. “Still want you tonight, please? I can’t wait any longer.” It’s had been a long 4 months and fuck, fuck you wanted him, badly.
“Always gonna take care of you, princesa.” Joel grinds his jeans-clothed cock against the soft fabric of your underwear, making you shutter. “Gonna take care of my pretty girl, always.”
And god, did he.
Joel’s mouth was sloppy, wet, hot between your legs. His tongue fucked into your hole, prodding you open and his hips bucking against the bed. Insatiable. Arms locked around your legs, his nose nudged against your clit as it seemed he was trying push himself as strongly against your body as he could, to devour you, to bring you and him the most absolute pleasure he could.
You tug at his hair, soft waves in between your fingers as you draw him closer to you. Warmth pooling in your stomach, you felt that pressure grow with every moan, every vibration, every sluuuuuuuuuurp! of your juices, christ he was incredible. You felt elevated, devoted too and adorned in affection the way you had always wanted to be. He was everything in this moment. Joel’s tongue slid up in a swift swipe, mouth and that pouty lower lip latching onto your clit with his fingers pumped into you.
“JOEL! J-ohhhhhh” Your cry for his name melted into moans as you came on his mouth and fingers, crushing his head between thighs as your legs bent. The power of your orgasm caused you to tense and then melt into the bed. You give a low hum as he kisses your inner thighs. As you come to reality again, you register Joel’s sweet kisses all over your legs. He’s kissing the trail of your scars. Joel kisses over the scars on your right thigh and up the crease at your inner hip.
“What are you doing?” You mutter, never for a moment fully let go of his hair.
“Appreciating every inch of you.”
Joel kissed his way up your torso, over the scars under your tits and over the mounds. Latching onto your nipple, he swirled his tongue around the sensitive skin. You can feel him smile against your skin when your back arches off the bed.
“Fuck, Joel, your fucking mouth…” You whimper, and when his mouth lets go his hands never do. Softly, he touches you in all the scarred, squishy parts of you you were trained for so long to hate.
He kissed you tenderly, gentle hands a contrast to his hungry mouth. That tongue, that goddamn tongue…
When he slides in, your eyes can’t help but roll back; your chest rises up against his broad expanse. He filled you so perfectly, fucking deep inside you and filling you up. You never felt so full. Your heart, your life, your stretched out cunt… every part of you was full and euphoric.
“My sweet, perfect girl…” Joel grunts as he pumps into you, hand braced against the headboard and towering over you. You gazed up at him, the yellow lighting of the ceiling fan created a halo around him. Joel looked positively angelic.
Fitting, as he was your angel.
You were aware how he was perceived in his culésac. Joel was highly respected; kind, hard working if a bit disorganized. A good southern man who raised his brother and daughter well, helped the elderly neighbors, bailed his brother out of pinches and would use his truck to help anyone move. Yeah, people liked Joel. But they wouldn’t call him gentle, like how you feel his hands over your stomach. They wouldn’t call him soft like you felt his stomach against yours. They wouldn’t call him angelic, but that was all you could say as you came on his cock.
They certainly would not call him warm, but that was all you felt as you pulled out and sprayed ropes of cum on your stomach.
You dozed off to sleep as he spread his cum around your scarred skin.
You vaguely register him cleaning you up, tired and content, and wait for him to join you again. His body felt perfect against your, fitting so well against your body like two puzzle pieces so close together. You had mumbled a request to be dressed, just in case Sarah and Tommy came home early, so you were both cuddled up in sweats under a thick blanket.
Everything with Joel felt safe and warm.
"Scars remind us where we've been. They don't have to dictate where we're going" -David Rossi, Criminal Minds.
******************
So, there we are. I'm very frustrated by the new bought of scars that are quite noticable that I have to wait to fade again but I refuse to be ashamed the way I used to. My scars are just scars from my trauma and illness. It's a moral failing of the people who have and continue to harm me, not mine.
Thank you all for reading, this was quite a venerable piece for me but I see a light at te end of the tunnel, and things will be getting better, I know it <3
@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring @yorksgirl
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#fem reader#tlou smut#tlou#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#dads best friend joel#joel miller tlou#tlou fanfiction#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#tlou fic#joel#joel miller x reader smut#pale reader#f!reader#smut
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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆��𝐑𝐒.
pairings — fem!reader and rafe cameron.
summary — after rafe takes your life, he tries to move on, and simply pretends he’s the one who didn’t do so. eventually, hauntings and truths will lay themselves out to remind rafe just how sickening he is.
warning tags — adult language. details of gruesome m*rder & m*rder itself. mentions of DV relationship, (brief) child ab*se & awful parents. talks of religion and god. reader’s pov from heaven (?? just stick w the program). rafe actually going more insane than usual. overall dark content.
author’s note — this is based on and inspired by ethel cain’s song ‘strangers’ and while this song has multiple interpretations to go by, i’m taking mine by the main and common one (just without the c*nnibalism!). this also gets super dark and depressing so if you cannot bear any of it, please click off! this also isn’t revised at all so my apologies for grammar mistakes.
likes, shares & reblogs are very much appreciated ⋆୨୧ ₊ﾟ
you had tears in your eyes, body shaking to point you thought you’d convulse. you tried to be obedient by keeping in rafe’s secret of what he had done on that tarmac. he beat you to make sure you kept your mouth shut for good.
he said, “i’ll kill you if you say one word,” and it took enough fear to believe him, but you didn’t think that day would come.
murder is an evil thing, and everyone can attest to it. rafe murdered sheriff peterkin as if she was nothing, as if she was a problem in the way. bad enough, he let john b. routledge — one of your best friends — take the fall for it.
you continued to keep your mouth shut, but after rafe tried to invade the police, ward killing himself, you didn’t see a reason to keep quiet. ward was the only reason why rafe could stay out of prison, and now that he wasn’t around, you could speak.
your father preached every sunday to live by righteousness and good, to never let evil win.
rafe was that evil. he was the devil himself.
the devil that you danced with, let make love to you, kiss you, but also beat you until stars twinkled in your vision, and your breath kept getting caught in your throat.
your mother would be horrified to know that, your father too. but it was their fault in a way that you accepted this cruelty as love; your father, especially to blame.
if love is not meant to be hit at you, does it even exist? your father showed you that when he’d slap or punch you for falling out of line, but go to church the next day, and preach about being a good servant to god.
you wanted all evil out of your life. it was suffocating, it was drowning you.
rafe had to be eliminated first.
“you killed peterkin, and i’m tired of knowing it,” you said, picking up your car keys. “we are done, and i won’t even show up to your trial when you go down for it.”
rafe just stared at you appalled and puzzled, sitting on the edge of his bed. you were close to being far out enough to your car until strong, violent hand seized you.
you screamed and kicked, not being new to this routine, only knowing that he was going to harm you.
you could never predict that his violence would lead him to murdering you.
“let me go, rafe!” you screamed, being pulled inside, your pleas and cries echoing in the empty home.
expecting to be physically berated, you were being led downwards.
to the wine cellar basement.
and for once in a while, you prayed to god, and hoped he would finally listen to you this time. that he would save his child, and perform a miracle.
but a miracle never came as rafe manhandled you, pinning you down on the cement ground of the basement.
“shut the fuck up! stop crying!” he yelled, a solid punch coming to your cheek, and you yelped, an easy gush of blood rushing out of your mouth. “you’re a fuckin’ backstabber. after everything i’ve done for you, gonna treat me like that?”
you cried, shaking your head. “r—rafe, please! i’ll be good, i’ll stop!”
“don’t trust you, little one. can’t let you ruin everything,” rafe said, reaching for something out of his back pocket.
the more you fought back, the more angry he got; the more you fueled the fire that rested in his hands and body.
before you could let out another plead, a sharp pain was made into your abdomen.
rafe stabbed you — and he wasn’t planning on stopping there.
god wasn’t there. you would show up to his gates in this condition, and ask him why he let it happen. if god is real, why did he bear witness instead of saving you?
rafe doesn’t recall killing you.
he remembers grabbing, and dragging you down into wine cellar basement, but couldn’t be able to tell anyone what happened after that. all he knows your blood was quite literally on his hand, knife shaking in his grip.
your babydoll white dress was now stained with violence and scarlet red blood.
the sight should’ve made him sick, but it didn’t. he just stared at you, breathing heavy, and it didn’t strike him until a while later that he had killed you.
rafe cameron had killed the love of his life.
he only panicked when it came to how to dispose your body, take off any evidence that could trace back to him. he was more than willing to dump your body in the woods, let any gators eat at you for supper.
he tossed your body only hours later in the depths of the woods, and it didn’t take long until you were reported missing.
of course, he was questioned first. it was easy for him to play the concerned boyfriend, crying because he also hadn’t heard from you, saying he had been texting and calling you for hours.
your parents sobbed on the news and asking anyone to come forward with any information, that they’ll give up however much money for their child to come home.
rafe just stared numbly at the television screen, a cup of scotch in his hand.
your best friends, the pogues, sobbed for days, and even started a search party for you. rafe made sure to dig you levels down in those woods when the ground was wet enough to dig up, and cover you up.
sarah cameron had a feeling her brother had something to do with your ‘disappearance’ but it was only just a gut intuition, she couldn’t prove it. she always questioned why you got with her brother, always emphasizing how horrible and violent he was, but you would tell her, “you don’t know him like i do; you don’t know how much he loves me, and takes care of me.”
kiara knew how bad rafe was — for god sake, she momentarily went to the academy around the same time he was a senior. she knew he wasn’t destined to be a boyfriend, let alone even in a fucking relationship.
the boys of the group were beyond furious, the three wanting to round up and take ahold of rafe, beat some information out of him. but they knew you wouldn’t want that, and that rafe would easily get the police to arrest them.
however, months passed, and you slowly became a memory to not only the town, but to rafe himself. he went on with his days like nothing occurred, that he didn’t violently take the life of his girlfriend.
you weren’t on his mind anymore, and he didn’t have to worry about you anymore.
or so he thought.
karma and revenge go hand in hand together; they mingle and burst out, they make sure they arrive at the doorstep of the people who deserve it.
rafe always thought getting rid of you would avoid his downfall, but the murder of you was just the beginning of it all.
he slept peacefully like he had done for a while now, with him about to drown into a deep sleep. he rested with his hands laid atop of his stomach, comfortable and at solitude, a female whisper woke him up.
he peeked around, but saw no one. he assumed he was just sleep deprived and imagining things, his eyes closing again for sleep.
“do you feel sick yet?” the voice that sounded like yours came through, more clearer and visible. he shot up, and turned on his bedside lamp.
nothing. no one. not you.
why would he have to feel sick? you were gone, you were no longer a problem.
rafe shook it off, and was able to go back to sleep.
you were angry in the afterlife. you stared at rafe from heaven, trembling with rage and regret. a man you once loved, had acted as if you never existed. you adored him, and he disposed you like garbage.
you just wanted to be his, wanted him to tell you that you were his only; that he loved you as much as you did to him, that he would change and better himself for you.
that the violence would dissipate, and his rough hands would be nurtured with love and softness.
but no. that never came, and never would.
you were taunted by your murder, burning with the need to remind rafe of how sick he was.
your violent lover let you bleed before him, and without tending to your wounds or simply sitting with immediate regret, he soaked in his actions and dismissed it.
why couldn’t he be gentle? was him painting you blue and purple not enough? did he have to go as far as killing his lover to satisfy the disdain and vexation he held for you?
was that enough? was that enough to make you enough?
rafe’s nights slowly turned interrupted and sleepless. your voice was always there, and time to time, he thought he saw you standing in his bedroom, drenched in blood and with tears streaming down your face as you kept asking him, “do you feel sick yet?”
sick. not regretful. fucking sick.
sleep deprivation was catching up to him, making him more mean and angry than usual, more out of control.
the coke wasn’t even helping either, only making everything worse.
he was at barry’s trailer, snorting endless lines of the white powder, trying to shake off the sight of you from last night.
“country club, you good?” barry asked, and rafe didn’t respond. “you don’t seem well, bro.”
“just need this shit, okay?” rafe mumbled, separating another drop of cocaine. “just… just want to sleep, need it.”
barry didn’t want to push him with more questions, minding his own business as the blond haired boy snorted up excessive amounts of lines.
rafe ended falling asleep on his couch, barry mindlessly scrolling on his own phone as he laid down on his bed.
the cold air from the air conditioner ran around in the basement, making it more freezing and chilling than usual.
rafe could smell strawberry perfume, indicating you were around. he looked around, and saw nothing of you.
“where are you!” he screamed. “you can’t scare me, you bitch!”
“i’m not here to scare you,” you talked, rafe spinning around to find you perched in the corner of the basement. you careened closer, the dim light emphasizing on your mangled body.
rafe stared at your stomach, where immense stab wounds laid on it. he swallowed thickly, his breath shaking and jagged.
“do you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe looked up at you. he couldn’t move in this dream, he was paralyzed and a witness to your lacerated body.
nausea and despair washed over rafe, almost consuming him entirely.
you were finally face to face with him, your hair disheveled and bunched, face stained with tears and runny makeup, all for him to look at.
rafe could feel your physical touch, your soft hand grabbing his, and made his palm touch your abdomen. he almost fucking threw up.
you could see it, you could see he was wanting to vomit everywhere. “am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe shivered, forcing his hand to put more pressure on your stomach, blood rushing out onto it. “am i making you feel sick?”
rafe screamed and lurched up, his eyes opening and alarming barry. “woah, what the fuck, rafe!” barry shouted, and rafe breathed rapidly, his heart thumping against his chest, a need to vomit.
rafe brought his face into his hands, trying to shake everything out of his hand.
your face, your touch, your blood — he felt it all. he was being reminded of you, when he didn’t want to.
barry kept asking him what was wrong, why he was crying, if he was okay, but all rafe could focus on was your voice asking, “am i making you feel sick?”
he was no longer immune to his destruction. he was becoming infected by it. you were a disease that he couldn’t treat, a parasite that ate at his brain.
he would never get rid of you — and you would make sure that he never did.
it was month seven without you, and you became a faded name to the outer banks. the only people who lived on to tell your name was your parents, and your best friends. the pogues carved your name into the chateau’s tree, a ceremonial bench placed at the high school.
your body or you weren’t ever discovered, but the police had listed you as deceased. you weren’t a runaway, you were eighteen, and had nothing to runaway for. when you couldn’t be traced anywhere on the grid, the police pronounced you dead, and that was that.
pictures of you and any sort of evidence remained in a cardboard box somewhere in the police station. you were left to rot in every way.
you were tired of being forgotten, but more exhausted that nobody knew that your boyfriend did this, and you probably weren’t going to be the first girl he killed.
rafe cameron needed to know what he did, and you wanted to do everything you could to make him drag himself to the police station, sit down, and say, “i killed her — and i enjoyed every fucking second of it.”
madness was becoming rafe. he was already an insane, depraved fuck before, but the lack of sleep and memories of the murder were catching up to him for good.
dark circles were around his eyes, hair greasy and messy, his body tired. he felt like he was going to snap any second.
he kept drinking, smoking weed and doing coke back to back, surprised that his heart didn’t give out yet.
a random exhaustion toll pushed over him, laying him down on the floor of his bedroom, and his eyes threatened to snap shut.
he didn’t want to sleep, he was afraid to. he was afraid to see you, with your bloody dress and sad face, making him touch your wounds.
rafe didn’t win the fight of sleeping, and he knocked out cold on his bedroom floor.
he wasn’t in the basement, he was in his bedroom, and he could hear your feet padding away to the front of the house, to your car.
oh, he was reliving the night. and he couldn’t stop. he couldn’t get out of the memory — he was facing everything.
he saw you bloody by his doorframe, and you tilted your head. “why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice sounding as if he was trapped in a void.
you only frowned. “so you know.”
like a reflex, rafe hurriedly rushed over to you outside before you could get away, seizing you away, and taking you to the basement.
he pinned you down to the ground, and screamed at you to stop crying, upset and angry you were willing to betray him when he did everything for you.
you were sobbing, but it became echoes and his ears rang, everything around him becoming silent except his own heavy breathing. he grabbed the knife that sat in his pocket, and he could see your eyes widen with fear to the sight of the object.
“rafe!” you screamed in the first stab. he hit you sharp and right in the abdomen.
he held his knife there for a second, like time was freezing him, and he felt a hot breath at the side of his face.
it was you.
“am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe proceeded to stab you as you sobbed. you cried out his name, trying to fight away the knife, promising to be good and for him to stop.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
rafe couldn’t stop, he couldn’t control himself. he kept stabbing you as you screamed. he was a monster, with the inability to suppress his anger or violence.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
another stab.
“am i making you feel sick?”
a part you thought you were making him feel sick because of how mutilated your body was; that the body he was once desired, was now filling him with disgust. you wondered if how butchered you looked, was making him uncomfortable and sick. he didn’t deserve your concern, but it happened anyway. was it making him sick?
rafe wanted to cry, but couldn’t. he was revisiting the person he was in this moment, and could see life vanish from your eyes, death taking you away.
he took one last stab, and held it there like the first one. you kneeled in front of him, looking over at your corpse for a moment before your eyes settled into his raging ones.
he held prolonged eye contact with you as you inched your face close to his, but kept a safe distance. you placed your hand on top of his murdering one, and with a blank face, lastly asking him, “am i making you feel sick?”
rafe broke eye contact with you to look at your deceased body, and realized and remembered this murder. your organs could be nearly seen, blood gushed and poured out everywhere, your body cold and still.
he dropped the knife, and eyed you. “i’m sorry.”
you shook your head, and sighed. “you will revisit this everyday as long as you live,” you said, sniffling. “all i wanted was to be yours, and be good enough, rafe. was i no good?”
he didn’t have an answer, and with that, you got up, staring over at your body. “i want you to know,” you chuckled softly to yourself, “i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did. i forgive you, especially since i’m happier where i’m at.”
“heaven?” rafe asked.
you nodded. “you won’t make it here, but i’ll still hope and wait that you do — because i love you too much to let god be angry with you too.”
“he’s an angry man?”
“he’s angry and unfair,” you responded. “like someone i know. i loved god, i loved you; two men who didn’t view me as much, who don’t deserve for me to believe in them.”
rafe went quiet, and enough time went by for you to disappear for good to let rafe cry, and scream. he cried and sobbed, dry heaving as he vomited everywhere to the sight of you.
he killed you, and as long as he kept it to himself, you would drive him mad and insane with the knowing of it.
rafe cameron confessed to your murder only hours later. he drove himself to the police station, and confessed to every detail, telling sheriff shope where your body was.
they found your maimed body in the exact location where rafe told them it was, your body already decomposing into near bones, eaten by critters and bugs.
the earth was consuming you.
he was hated forever, the town wanted him torched or given the death penalty. it would be a while until he got a trial.
your funeral could be proper with your body in a casket, given a rightful way to be down in the ground, protected and secured by a box stuffed with silk fabric.
you could see your mom cry, and you wish she wouldn’t. your father had to give the prayer at your funeral, your best friends sobbing, and hating themselves for not getting you away from rafe sooner.
however, your death was simply inevitable. if rafe didn’t kill you, your love for him would. he was everything to you.
even when he was murdering you — getting a vile satisfaction from it — you were worried about him, if you and your maimed body was making him feel more nauseous and sick than the actual murder was.
rafe would live with the knowing that you truly loved him, and he took your life every single day that he spent in a prison block cell.
and your ghost would continue to linger and haunt him, never letting him know peace and serenity as he never did to you.
#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron outer banks#obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fluff#drew starkey obx#drew starkey one shot#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#drew starkey x reader#outer banks imagine#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron x female reader
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Hey I have a request for Lucifer x reader! Where the reader is like a sinner who did wrong things for their love. Like they weren’t a bad person simply in love! And they essentially did it to follow them in hell only for that “love” to betray them. So they decide to redeem themselves at the hotel and meets Lucifer in the process. Thank you for taking time to read this!
Imbalance
Lucifer x Reader
Synopsis: After getting betrayed you meant someone who wasn’t an obsession and was actually pure love
Tears ran down your face as you walked towards a familiar hotel with a backpack and your Beige suitcase. It was raining so people might mistake your tears as Raindrops and thankfully you won’t correct them. You carefully wiped your face just in case and opened the hotel door.
Charlie saw you and instantly got excited. “Hello! Are you here to stay and be redeemed!?” Charlie asked hopefully making more at eased.
“Yea, Uhm I’ve done stuff for love and never actually did stuff for me” You said nervously fiddling with your hoodie strings.
You actually reminded Charlie of her father being depressed because of being betrayed so she welcomes you with open arms.
“That’s okay, let me help you with that” She reassured before taking your suitcase before you could reject her.
“Let me lead you to your room miss-“___” You finished as she nodded excitedly before leading you upstairs to the guess room.
“Is there anyone else doing this?” You asked curiously as you walked beside her.
“Just one person but I guess you can say we force him a bit to do this but other than that it’s just you who seems to want to be redeemed. Demons usually don’t care for these types of things” Charlie said honestly making you nod in agreement.
You yourself are down here because you were just blinded by love. You did anything for your ex like helping him hide a body that he killed or things he asked you’ll immediately do.
“Here we are ____, Call me if you need anything and also breakfast starts at 8:00-9:30” Charlie said as she handed you a key to your room.
“Thank you” You mumbled before entering your room with your suitcase. And all honesty it was bigger than you expected. Plus you got a window to see all of hell.
You sigh before throwing your backpack off your shoulder then flopping on the comfortable bed before falling to sleep accidentally.
A soft knock made you open the door to see Charlie and another girl who looked more intimidating. “Hiii ___ I hope you don’t mind but me and my girlfriend will be escorting you to breakfast” Charlie cheerfully said making you smile at her.
“Of course let me get my sweater” You said before rushing to get your light pink sweater and then closing your door before walking in between the two.
“I’m vaggie by the way” The girl said making you introduce yourself all over again. You weren’t paying attention til you bump into some making you fall to the ground and him only stumble to balance himself.
He turned around and saw you, A beautiful-no A gorgeous woman. “I-I’m so sorry” He said before reaching out to help you up.
“Dad!” Charlie said excitedly, as Lucifer eyes sparkled continued after looking away from you. “Charlie!!!” He said hugging his daughter. You and Vaggie stand there waiting for the father,daughter to be done.
“Oh! ___ this is my dad lucifer and dad this is ___” Charlie introduced making both adults make heart eyes at each other.
“OR you can call me the big boss” Lucifer said jokingly said making you chuckle.
“It’s pleasure to meet the big boss himself” You said sending shivers down his spine and heart racing. He blushes as Vaggie and Charlie stare at the future new couple.
This led to you two being talkive to each other more making you put your trust in him to be able to tell him why you’re in hell.
“I had this Ex who was manipulative but I was really in love to not see it, So whenever he told me to help him hide a body I did it without a doubt and it was more then one time sadly” You said as tears came out your eyes.
He shushed you as he pulled you into him cuddling you. You cried in his shoulder as he rubbed your back making you sleep on his shoulder.
He kissed your forehead before putting you on his lap to get you in a more comfortable position.
A month later:
You woke this time feeling someone under you, His arms around your waist and legs intertwined with yours.
You carefully got up but Lucifer held you down more tightly. “Stay” He mumbled as he put lazy kisses on your neck with his hands slipped under your shirt to rub your back to get you back to sleep. You hummed in agreement feeling sleepy at his touch.
“I love you” You mumbled
“I love you too My Queen” He whispered in your ear.
#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer imagine#lucifer x you#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer
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Girlll how about Miguel x Hispanic!Wife! Reader and Miguel comes home all beaten up and shit with his suit glitching and she asks what happen and he explains how he chased down miles and she yells at him for beating up a child. Like full on Hispanic mom mode then she gets all soft with him and patches him up and cooks him something nice 😊
YOU WHAT?
omg bettt, sorry this took so long, I wrote it and forgot to save it before closing the app and lost everything 😭
Miguel O’Hara x Hispanic!Wife Reader
Masterlist
Warnings: Swear words
You and Miguel had been married for some years, you both met at the spider society, but ever since you got pregnant Miguel became too protective of you and insisted on you taking a break, he didn’t want you to make too much effort and hurt yourself, or even worse, he couldn’t handle the thought of losing another child or losing you, so eventually you gave in to his wishes and took a break.
You were cleaning your house (even though Miguel told you he would do it when he came back) while listening to songs that you’re sure you learnt from listening to them when your mom cleaned when you were younger, you know those sad old lady songs like the ones from Amanda Miguel, Pimpinela, Rocío Dúrcal, and artists like that “Amor, de verdad pareces una señora dolida” (Love, you’re acting like a depressed old lady) Miguel told you once when he came home to you screaming your lungs out to Así No Te Amará Jamás as if you had been through three divorces and four infidelities.
Suddenly your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the door aggressively open and heavy footsteps, you became excited as you knew that Miguel had finally arrived, but when you heard that he was stumbling around and you turned to him you were shocked. You saw your husband covered in bruises and wounds, and his suit was glitching, you hadn’t seen him like that in such a long time, you weren’t even sure that you had ever seen him that bad.
Hearing him groan in pain pulled you out of your shock state and you soon started to realize how messed up he actually looked.
“AY MIGUEL, QUE CHINGADOS TE PASÓ?” (AY MUGUEL, WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU?) you asked shocked
“Nothing, im fi-“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence without whining in pain
“Ay no, no me vengas con esas mamadas de que no te pasó nada y que no se que chingados, no puedes ni siquiera decir una oración completa y dices esas pendejadas de que estás bien? Yo no soy pendeja y tu lo sabes Miguel, a mi no me ves la cara. Dime que chingados te pasó antes de que yo me entere por mi cuenta.” (Oh no, don’t come tell me that dumb shit of nothing happened, you can’t even finish a sentence and you say that you’re fine? I’m not dumb and you know it well Miguel, you are not lying to me. Tell me what the fuck happened before I find out by my own)
“I already told you i’m fine my love, you don’t need to worry about me, really” he was now sitting down on your couch
You approached him and you now had a clearer view of his wounds “Ay no, mírate cómo estás, no no, estoy bien mis huevos, iiiih, no mames me estás manchando mi sillón, neta si no me vas a decir que te pasó mínimo déjame ayudarte con tus heridas amor” (Look at you, no no, I’m fine my ass, oh my god and you’re staining my couch, if you’re not gonna tell me what happened at least let me help you with your wounds love)
“You really don’t need to, I can do it mysel-“
“Ya cállate, te voy a ayudar porque te voy a ayudar y tu te vas a dejar, y si no te dejas donde vea que se te infectan las heridas vas a ver eh cabrón?” (Just shut up, I’m gonna help you and you’re gonna let me, and if you don’t if I see that your wounds get infected you’re done understood?)
“No te vas a rendir verdad? okay fine you can help me” (You’re not giving up are you?)
“Good, it wasn’t a question” you smiled at him while heading to your bathroom to get your emergency kit which you always kept even if Miguel told you to throw it away or that it wasn’t necessary multiple times.
You came back to your living room and started cleaning Miguels wounds “So, you’re gonna tell me what happened to you or?”
He sighed “Miles..” he said almost whispering
“Hm? say it again? I can’t hear you corazón”
“Miles”
“Miles? as in the kid you told me about?” he nodded
“He couldn’t have possibly done this right? he’s a kid, you said so, tell me the full story”
“He went to HQ, Gwen brought him… he broke a cannon event and destroyed a universe, then I had to tell him”
“About? go on mi cielo, I’m all ears”
He sighed “I had to tell him… about his cannon event”
“Oh… I’m guessing he didn’t take it well” he shook his head
“He wanted to save his dad even if it destroyed the universe, I had to chase him down, I had to tell him that he was an anomaly, Every single spider in the society chased him down and he still beat our asses and managed to escape, I was so close to fucking ending with it once for all”
“YOU WHAT? A ver cielo, déjame ver si entendí, HICISTE QUE UN MONTÓN DE ADULTOS PERSIGUIERAN A UN NIÑO Y DESPUÉS CASI LO MATAS?” (YOU WHAT? Okay, let me see if I understood, YOU MADE A BUNCH OF ADULTS CHASE DOWN A KID AND AFTER THAT YOU ALMOST KILLED THE KID?)
quiet
“Sabes lo que le pudo haber pasado a ese niño?! Que habrías hecho si lo hubieras matado eh?” (Do you know what could’ve happened to that kid?! What would you have done if you had killed him huh?)
“Y/n you don’t understand, he wouldn’t listen to me”
“No, I don’t understand, he’s just a kid Miguel, of course he’s gonna try to save his dad! it’s logic!”
“Then what was I supposed to do huh?!”
“I DONT KNOW, MAYBE NOT TRY TO KILL A KID?”
“Look, I’m sorry, I just wanted what was best for everyone, I didn’t want him to deal with the guilt of making an universe come to an end, I’m so sorry , I promise you that I will try to fix everything” he said sincerely
“You should be apologizing to the kid, not me, but don’t worry as long as you make an effort it’ll be okay, just don’t try to kill kids again, and- oh my god, I didn’t finish cooking your food, okay, ahorita regresó mi amor, y ni se te ocurra moverte” as much as you wanted to be mad, you just couldn’t resist him, you brought him food and continued to heal him until he was as best as he could be.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader angst#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader smut#miguel o’hara x reader fluff#miguel spiderverse#into the spider verse#spider man: across the spider verse#accross the spiderverse
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Pairing : Bangchan x F!Reader ft. Hongjoong
TW : angst ; childbirth ; reader has to have a c-section ; very traumatic labor experience ; Chan turning point moment ; fluffy at the end ;
Word Count : 4.9k
Request : I'm sure that in my 98 requests there are some regarding this so I'm gonna say yes, it is a request
A/N : Back on that good shit, HELLO!!!
It had been four months since you left, riding off into the sunset with Hongjoong, at least that’s the way that Chan looked at it. In reality, you sat in the passenger seat crying your eyes out in the parking lot of the McDonalds while Hongjoong worked tirelessly to console you to no avail.
Four months since the last time you had even heard from Chan, too busy with work still to even realize what he had lost… At least that’s the way you looked at it. Back at home, he couldn’t even get his brain to focus on anything but you, the words you had said before he had pushed you away. Work always came first in his life, it had always been that way, but you had needed his attention too, more then than ever before. He had screwed up, and now he was too scared, too ashamed to even try to get in touch with you. The fear that you had finally moved on to someone who would treat you and the baby better, it ate away at him like a parasite and it was killing him to not know how you were doing, but he felt that he deserved it.
Even Hongjoong, who felt that his acts of kindness were purely innocent, was filled with a sense of guilt, feeling like he was the reason for what was going on right now. No matter how much you told him that he wasn’t to blame, that you would never blame him for it, he couldn’t let himself get rid of the shame. It turned into you consoling him for the better part of two months, and when it seemed like he was finally getting better and coming to terms with that fact that this wasn’t his fault, he would run into Chan somewhere and those feelings would come rushing back full force.
All in all, the last four months have been absolute hell for everyone involved, but no one really talked to one another anymore, so that only worsened the feelings that everyone had. You were lonely, trying to get through the remainder of your pregnancy without thinking too hard about the fact that you’d be a single mother basically, that the father of the little girl that you were carrying had angrily kicked you out and wouldn’t even call to check up on you. Chan was depressed, not knowing anything that was going on with his daughter, not even knowing if you had delivered the baby yet, not knowing how you were doing, and being away from the love of his life and the mother of his child was essentially destroying him. Even those that weren’t directly involved in what was going on, they were being affected too. Members of both groups had to deal with the negative moods of both men and no one knew what to do.
It seemed like the four months would never end, each passing day felt more like deja vu, waking up and reliving those moments over and over again, wondering what could have been done differently, what could have been said to try to change the outcome. It was a never ending nightmare it felt, but no one could have guessed how bad the nightmare would get.
You flipped the page on the calendar, the small box that read “due date” with little pink balloons surrounding it was fastly approaching now. For the first time, it felt like a new day, like you could finally breathe even though your daughter felt like she was kicking at your lungs constantly, you could take a deep breath. You were beginning to feel like maybe, just maybe, with the birth of your daughter, you’d be able to leave the door to your past behind you and start a new journey in life, a new chapter.
“How are you feeling today?” Hongjoong asked, meeting you in the kitchen with the world's best/worst case of bedhead. You felt awful that he had demoted himself to sleeping on the living room couch just so you could comfortably sleep in his bed, but he had insisted, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Is she ready to come out yet?” He smiled tiredly at your stomach which felt like it was about to burst any minute now, but your daughter had no plan on leaving yet.
“I’m feeling good… It’s a good day today.” You murmured, giving him a genuine smile, something that you hadn’t done in a while. The sight of it had Hongjoongs eyes lighting up, and you were hoping that maybe he was feeling the same way. “She definitely isn’t ready though. I think she’s actually comfortable being all cramped up in here.” You joked, running your hand over your stomach, and you felt your daughter move beneath your skin, just slightly, but enough for it to feel like she was agreeing with you.
“What if you’re overdue? What if she never leaves?” He teased, and you rolled your eyes at the questions. There was no way in hell that you’d let that happen. As much as you loved being pregnant with your daughter, your back and your legs were killing you, your stomach was covered in stretch marks that only seemed to be getting bigger and darker every single day, and you’d love to be able to go at least an hour and a half without having to run to the bathroom.
“Don’t jinx me.” You huffed, running a hand through your hair before turning to the fridge and grabbing a drink. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I cannot wait to get my period again.” As if on queue, and maybe even being slightly insulted by your words, your daughter kicked quite hard, hard enough that it had you choking on and coughing out the water that you had just taken a sip of.
“She mad at you.” Hongjoong continued to tease all while rubbing your back and intermittently asking you if you were okay, to which you nodded your head and told him you were. And it was the truth, you were okay. It seemed like forever since you were able to just be okay with everything that happened. Maybe it wasn’t that you were actually okay with it, more like you had just come to terms with the fact that you’d probably never hear from Chan again, that he’d never want anything to do with you. It hurt more than anything to come to that realization, to really let it settle in that the two of you were no more, but you also knew that holding onto a false sense of hope for that relationship to come back would only cause more damage to yourself emotionally.
“You wanna go out for lunch or something?” You asked once you had finally got the air back into your lungs and the tears wiped from your eyes. The last time you had gone out for lunch with Hongjoong was when you were still living with Chan. It had been guilt keeping the both of you from doing something like that again, but you were turning over a new leaf, it was time for you to live your life and let go of the anchor that was holding you back, keeping you emotionally docked to a man that clearly didn’t want anything to do with you or his child.
Hongjoongs eyes widened for only a second before he nodded his head. Maybe he was beginning to feel the same way. To him, it was clear that Chan wasn’t coming back, and the guilt that had previously kept him from doing anything even remotely close to the likes of dating was beginning to fade away. “Of course, anything you want.” He said, a smile creeping up onto his face as he said it. This was normal, or at least the new normal for you, and maybe in the process there would come new love along with the new life that you were bringing into the world. You could only hope that that was the case.
“And then Wooyoung and San-” Hongjoong was continuing his story from across the table when you felt it. The sharp pain that you knew wasn’t a kick or a punch from your little girl. It had you momentarily blacking out and seeing stars as a sharp gasp replaced the scream that threatened to pour from your lips. “Y/N?” Your name rushed out of Hongjoongs mouth as he got up from his chair, so fast that it tipped back, but he was by your side before it had even hit the floor.
The wetness that pooled between your legs was sign enough that not only was your body, but she was ready to come out. “Hospital…” You breathlessly said the word, your eyes prickling with tears as you looked up at Hongjoong, trying to remember all of the breathing exercises that you had learned in the lamaze class that he went to with you. It was harder than you thought when so much seemed to be happening at once, you could barely even focus on your breathing, let alone the breathing that someone else had taught you to do.
“Right… Yeah… Of course… Oh shit.” Hongjoong stammered out the words, looking around the small restaurant in a state of panic, as if one of the unfortunate people who were now watching you would know what to do. It didn’t take long for a couple other women to come over and try to help you, some of them were on their phones already asking for an ambulance. “Thank you…” Hongjoong whispered to the women, thankful that he could now turn his attention solely back to you while you both waited for the ambulance.
By the time the ambulance did come, there were so many people surrounding you and Hongjoong, trying to comfort you, console you, calm you, literally anything as the pains got worse and worse. Contractions, as you were told, were painful, and the only thing you could really do was try to breathe through them until they stopped. The only problem was that they came so frequently that you didn’t have time to catch your breath before another one had you doubling over and gripping onto Hongjoongs hand even tighter.
It wasn’t just the contractions though, there was something else, something that you couldn’t even fully understand, but you just knew… Something was wrong. You could feel it, or moreso, you couldn’t feel anything. You thought that with the amount of contractions and everything that was going on that your daughter would be moving around just as frantically as everyone else in the room right now, but you couldn’t feel anything. “Please… hurry… There’s something wrong… Please…” Was all you managed to say to the paramedics as they helped get you out of your chair and onto a gurney.
“Everything is alright.” One of the paramedics said, but they didn’t know, they weren’t you, they weren’t going through this right now. You hated how they tried to make everything seem okay when it wasn’t. You weren’t stupid, and you knew your body better than anyone else. There was something wrong, and they needed to get you to the hospital as fast as possible instead of trying to fill your head with false hope. “We’ll be there soon, just keep breathing.” As if you had any other choice… It was all you could do. Just breathe until you get to the hospital, and hope and pray that your feeling was wrong.
The baby is in distress. We have to get her out quickly. Set up the room. Get her ready.
Hongjoong stood off to the side watching as doctors and nurses circled around you like vultures. He couldn’t watch as they poked you and prodded at you like some kind of lab experiment, and the only thing he felt was anxiety at the pure chaos that seemed to be unfolding around him. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy with tears and while he wanted to stand next to you and be there for you and hold your hand, every time he even got remotely close he’d be pushed back and replaced by another doctor that needed to check you over.
“Call him…” You said loud enough for Hongjoong to hear, and while the doctors didn’t even pause to let you talk to him, he had heard you through the noise and the commotion. He knew what you meant, and he knew exactly who you were talking about. He wasn’t sure why you’d want him to be there, unless you truly thought that something bad was going to happen to yourself, the baby, or the both of you, but he knew that, out of respect for Chan, he had to do it.
He nodded slowly, hesitant to step out of the room, but he knew that there wasn’t much that he could really do from inside the room either, and it’s not like he could make a phone call with all the noise, so he silently slipped out into the hallway and leaned against the wall. Would Chan even answer his phone? Even if he didn’t, it’s not like you’d be alone, and if something horrible did happen, that would be something that Chan would have to live with for the rest of his life.
The ringing lasted for a good bit, or maybe it was just the fact that time didn’t seem relative in this situation and a second seemed to last for an hour for Hongjoong, but when the ringing finally came to a stop and he heard a soft sigh through the speaker on his phone, he knew that Chan had finally picked up. “Y/N is in labor… She wanted me to call you. It’s not… going well… She wants you here.”
It was vague, but it got the point across. To be honest, Hongjoong didn’t have the slightest idea of what was truly going on back in the room, he heard the words, but he couldn’t fully comprehend them, they made no sense to him. “Is she okay? Is the baby okay?” Chan shakily asked, and while everything around Hongjoong seemed to be moving in slow motion, the sounds coming through his phone made it seem like Chan was in a world in double speed.
“I don’t know… I don’t know anything. She just wants you here. She wanted me to call you. She’s scared, I’m scared… I’m sorry, hyung.” He whimpered, tear drops spilling over his lashes and trickling down his cheeks. “Please come fast… I think they’re moving her…” They were both crying, that much was obvious, the sound of choked off sobs only slightly muffled by the car engine that rumbled through the speaker.
This felt a great deal like karma, although neither of the guys knew who it was coming after. Was it Hongjoong for unintentionally stealing away the family of another man, or was it Chan for being so oblivious to the blessings that he had been given that he let them be taken from him? Why would it go after you though? You and the innocent baby that didn’t know anything about what was going on around her? None of it made sense.
Silence filled the call, neither men speaking, but soon that silence was interrupted by the door being pulled open and the commotion that Hongjoong had temporarily removed himself from now flooded into the hallway. “These are your scrubs, follow us.” A doctor hurriedly handed Hongjoong the blue suit and then turned their attention back to the hospital bed that was being wheeled out of the room. Nurses followed behind, carrying the IV bag that you were still attached to, but now there was an oxygen mask over your face, although it wasn’t connected to anything, not yet at least. “There isn’t much time, hurry.” The doctor said, looking back at Hongjoong who was in a state of shock seeing you like this.
“What’s going on? I’m almost there… Hongjoong?” Chan finally spoke up, but there was nothing that Hongjoong could say. He still didn’t know what was going on, but now it felt like he was on limited time, and the last thing he wanted to do was be on the phone with Chan when he could be spending this time with you, or beside you… He should be there for you, and maybe Chan knew this, or maybe he just didn’t want you to go through this alone. “Go… I’ll get there soon… Don’t leave her…”
Sitting in the waiting room was Chan who had run through the hospital doors like a bat out of hell, pushing through people just to get to the front desk only to be told that he couldn’t even go back and see you. He was left with so many questions and no answers, fears that clouded his mind and made the sound of the television right above his head seem like nothing more than a low drone that was everything but calming.
There was no comfort found in the pristine white walls or the nose burning bleach smell from the overly sanitized floors. There was no solace felt when looking at the scenic paintings that hung along the walls. There was only a sense of looming dread that hung over him. To lose everything before he had even gotten it, to not even have had the chance to enjoy the time with you and his unborn daughter because he had so carelessly given it away just to chase his career.
“Sir…” Pulled from his thoughts by the low, almost mousy voice of the receptionist, he finally looked up at her. “You can go back now.” Was this a light at the end of the tunnel, or was it just the high beams of a car racing through only meant to give him some sense of false hope before he was crashed into?
Every step was slow, giving him time to prepare himself for whatever it was that he’d walk in on. Would you be okay or had he lost you? Had he lost his daughter? Were you both gone? Was he only allowed to come in just to say goodbye? Wouldn’t that be sick? To be led into a room where everything that he truly loved lay lifeless and cold… He wouldn’t be able to handle that, he wasn’t even able to handle the thought of that.
Hongjoong stood outside a door, his hair disheveled and his eyes reddened from crying. His cheeks and his nose looked raw, and his lips were chapped… But he was smiling. There was no sadness in his eyes, he wasn’t wearing the look of someone that he just witnessed something so horrifyingly devastating that Chan couldn’t even think of it. “They’re sleeping…” Hongjoong whispered, letting out an exasperated chuckle as he ran his hand through his hair for presumably the thousandth time today. “But they’re okay… They’re okay.” He repeated the words as if he himself needed the reassurance.
“Wh-... What happened?” Chan stammered, still left with a whirlwind of questions, but did it even matter what had happened? As long as you and his daughter were alright, that’s all that was important to him. “Is the baby in there? Can I see her?” Hongjoong shook his head no, and for a moment Chan thought that he was saying that he couldn’t see his daughter, but Hongjoong quickly motioned down the hall with his head.
“They have her in the nursery right now… They still want to check her over, make sure that there’s no issues. I… I wish I could tell you what all happened but… I couldn’t even ask questions and… I was so scared. I think it’s a good thing you didn’t make it in time to see it… I never want to see something like that ever again…” Hongjoong rambled, his head shaking so fast like he was trying to rid his mind of whatever images now plagued it. How bad had it been?
“Can I go in the room?” Chan asked, and Hongjoong paused, looking between Chan and the door before nodding his head. “Thank you… Thank you for taking care of her, and being there for her… And giving her everything that I failed to give.” Chan murmured, his hand freezing on the doorknob, eyes welling up with tears as he dropped his head. “You’re a better man than I am… And she deserves better… So does my daughter…”
He didn’t give Hongjoong time to respond, he wanted to get in the room and see you, make sure you were okay, and then go see his daughter to make sure she was okay as well before heading back home. He didn’t intend on staying, not because he didn’t want to, but he was sure that you wouldn’t truly want him around now that the nightmare was over. He had hurt you and pushed you away, he didn’t even feel like he should be there.
“Hey…” Your voice was soft, not intentionally, but you were groggy and tired, as he expected you to be after going through this. “You finally made it… Took long enough.” You scoffed, and Chan could only sigh. If only you knew the amount of accidents that he had dodged, the amount of tears he had shed just to get here, just to wait for the clearance to come into the room and see you. He would have argued it, but he found no point in fighting against you, not right now. “Did you get to see her yet?” You asked, and he shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as his top teeth sank down into his bottom lip. “Did I interrupt your work?”
Were you truly questioning it or was it just a jab at the fact that he had chosen work over you and the baby in the beginning? He wasn’t sure considering your voice didn’t really give way to any emotion other than exhaustion. “No… You didn’t interrupt anything. I was at home.” He said softly, and it felt like he was walking on a thin layer of ice. Any wrong move and he’d fall through. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t make it in time. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here.”
“You’re a busy person… I understand that you can’t make it.” You said as nonchalantly as ever, as if you were just talking about the weather. “You should go see her before you have to go again. I’m not sure when your schedule will free up so… If you want me to send pictures of her to you I will…” You weren’t even looking at him, your eyes gazing far off into the distance, out the window of your little room. Was it because you’d get sad if you looked at him? Or would you just get really angry? How was it so easy for Hongjoong to juggle both his work and his life? Why was it so hard for Chan to do the same thing? Did he even have a chance to try to prove to you that he was sorry or had Hongjoong already made his way into the space in your heart that Chan thought was reserved for him?
“I never stopped thinking about you… About the baby… I never stopped thinking about how much of an idiot I was for leaving you… For letting you leave.” Chan began, and he saw your tongue push against the inside of your cheek, something that you did when you were thinking just a little bit too hard. What were you thinking about? “And I know that right now isn’t the best time to be coming to you and telling you this. I should have come to you the day after you left… I shouldn’t have even let you walk out that door. But I love you, and I love our baby… And that dream that we created together… I still want that with you. I want to be with you, I want to have a family with you… I want so much for you to just be home again.” He shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut to try to hide the fact that he was getting teared up. “I want our home to be the home that you bring our daughter to when you both get discharged… But I know that I’m too late…”
For the first time since he had walked into the room, you looked at him. Your head turned slowly to let your eyes, filled with confusion, fall upon him. “What do you mean you’re too late? I’m not dead, Chan. I had a c-section… and while it still feels sore and I know it’s gonna hurt like a bitch later… I’m still alive.” You said it as if that were the only thing he should be worried about, but he knew that Hongjoong was just outside the door, and maybe you were just trying to play dumb to protect Chans feelings, although he wasn’t sure why you’d do something like that considering the hell that he put you through.
“I know that you and Hongjoong are together… You don’t have to hide it or pretend…” Chan mumbled, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth before letting out a loud, heavy sigh. “He’s better for you anyway. He was always there for you… He was there for the baby before she was even born… There’s no way that I can compete with him. I understand that he took my place… But I do love you, and… if it’s okay with him… I would like to still be in her life… I want to watch her… grow up… I want to be there for birthdays and holidays and-”
“What the fuck are you on about?” You cut him off with the question, your eyebrows arched and your face had shock written across it. “Hongjoong and I aren’t together. Holy shit, Chan.” You let out a scoff that sounded more like you were trying to hold in your laughter. “Is that why you didn’t try to get in touch with me? Because you thought that he and I were… together?” You quizzed, and Chan mumbled out a sheepish yes in response. “So you’re telling me… We could have been together… through the better half of the last portion of my pregnancy… But we weren’t because you thought I started dating Hongjoong?”
Chans hands flew to his face and his head fell back as he let out a loud groan. “Yes. Yes! I was stupid! I let my assumptions get the best of me and I missed out on the birth of my daughter because of that. Is that what you want to hear? I’m stupid!” His head shook before he let it drop down, his eyes lingering on the lines between the floor tiles. “Why didn’t you message me though? What was keeping you from reaching out… Not that it was your job to, considering what had happened… but… If you missed me and wanted me there for all of that… Why didn’t you text me or call me?”
Now it was you who grew quiet, your hand that was free of the IV running through your hair as your eyes bore into him, and even though he wasn’t looking, he could feel the heat of your gaze from across the room. “Because you told me to leave… I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I was devastated that you just let me walk out, and it made me feel like you wouldn’t care if I tried to get in contact with you anyway. I was pregnant, and I never felt so alone in my life, even with Hongjoong there to help me. All I wanted was you. But I was scared that you’d tell me to leave you alone and… I knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of rejection, not from you.”
His heart sank at the revelation of how you truly felt, and he couldn’t believe how far it was from the truth. He still had one more question though, one that seemed to be burning brighter now that he knew how you felt. “Why did you call me today? Not that I’m mad about it but… what made you want to see me now?”
The sudden sound of you sniffling filled the room, and you fumbled with the edge of your blankets as you took a few shaky breaths. “Because… I thought something was wrong… That something would go wrong and… Even if you hated me, I needed you here. I was scared that I would die… That she… You know… And I just needed you.” Your voice broke at the end and the sniffles turned to full sobs as your head dropped and your hair curtained your face.
He ran over to your bedside, grabbing your hand, for the moment completely forgetting that he hadn’t been around at all, the only thing he wanted now was to be there for you, to show you that he loved you. “I’m here now… You’re okay, she’s okay… I don’t want you to think of those things anymore… okay?” He whispered, petting his fingers over your hair and tucking it behind your ears before tilting your head up to look at him. “I love you… And I’m sorry… I’m sorry for everything that I’ve put you through… But I want to be here now, if you’ll give me that chance. Just one more chance… Please…”
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don’t delete the kisses - college!rafe
summary: Rafe loses all his confidence when it comes to the girl he’s been pining after for years but maybe her plan to be alone with him will help give him the push he needs. Or maybe the guy that flirts with her and doesn’t take no will be his final straw.
warnings: MUTUAL PINING, fluff, self doubt, alcohol, friends to lovers kinda, college au, semi creepy guy, fem reader, she/her
wc: 4.3k
an: HI FRIENDS!!! guess who’s back fr this fine. I started a very new chapter of my life recently & kinda went through a little depression but I’m doing much better now & much more adjusted. I missed writing sm but I’m a little rusty so uh sorry if it's bad LOL
p.s I turned 23 last week. ik my bio already says 23 but I lied & was 22 but now I’m 23. LOL. also I’m not a gemini but I have a gemini moon.
Rafe was confident. Some would say he was a little cocky, but he never saw it that way. He saw it as knowing what he wanted and never stopping until he got it. Whether it be being the best at soccer, taking out the hottest girl, or getting a 4.2 gpa. Rafe’s charming personality always got him far in every aspect in life. Parents loved him, teachers admired him, girls practically threw themselves at him. Of course he had no problem talking to girls, it was almost what he was best at.
Except when it came to her. She made his words get stuck in his throat, all his thoughts leaving his head when his eyes would meet hers. Whenever she was in the room he couldn’t function, something their friends had started to notice. Rafe’s sophomore year y/n started coming around with one of his friend’s Wren. She inevitably integrated with the group. Y/n would go to the frat parties at the boys frat and Rafe couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Yet never once did he attempt to flirt with her.
Ever since Wren had introduced her to them he was gone. Her shy smile and wide excited eyes had reeled him in. She was sweet and a constant ray of sunshine. Which makes it an even bigger mystery as to why he can’t talk to her. It’s not like she’d be mean or reject him, but somehow he can never get any words out. Always turning into a clammy, awkward, stuttering mess.
Now that it was his senior year attending frat parties became less frequent and going to bars was more common for them. This just made his problem worse. Because now at bars guys would hit on her and he couldn’t do anything. He’d watch with a glare as some guy clearly not good enough for her tried to get her number. She’d always say no, he wasn’t sure why but he was definitely glad she never gave anyone the time of day.
Y/n was sick and tired of never having Rafe’s attention. She’d see him effortlessly talk to Wren and the other girls they were friends with but when it came to her it seemed like he tried to avoid conversation. He would make up an excuse to leave the conversation or would only give short answers. She figured it was to get her to stop talking to him, but she was not giving up that easily.
She wanted his attention because he was just so Rafe. He was smart, athletic, kind, and funny. Maybe he didn’t talk to her but she was always listening to him. When they went on a road trip last summer she sat in the back seat happily in silence because Rafe was talking to Mason almost the whole ride. Plus he is so handsome she swears he could be a disney prince. Y/n had a plan to get to spend some time with him. She wanted him to like her so desperately it was starting to hurt.
It was a Friday night and they were all going out to the bars and she had so graciously offered to host the pregame at her apartment. Everything was going according to plan as her friends all said they’d be there and said what alcohol they were bringing. Even Rafe had sent a text in the group saying he’d be there and that got her stomach fluttering with butterflies. Of course she had the perfect outfit to hopefully impress him and get his attention.
She was setting out shot glasses and solo cups when the first guests knocked on the door. With a giddy smile on her lips she walked over and opened the door. Of course Wren was a part of the group to first arrive.
“Y/n! I’m so happy you’re hosting!” Wren exclaimed as she hugged her. The other three behind Wren took their turn greeting her with a hug as well.
“What you don’t like our place?” Tyler, one of the guys she came with, asked.
Wren gave him a sour look, “Not really into houses with four boys who don’t clean after themselves.”
Kelce gave her an offended look, “Hey we do clean before you guys come over.” They all gathered in the kitchen around the breakfast bar starting to look at the different alcohol options.
“I wouldn’t call wiping down the counters with baby wipes cleaning,” Mariah rolled her eyes at the pair of boys. Just then another knock came from the door.
Kelce who was closest to the door went over to open it. Topper walked in first dapping (an: I cringed too) up Kelce. Behind him followed Mason and Jasmine who all took their turns greeting everyone. Then last but certainly not least Rafe’s tall frame walked through the door way. He smiled brightly as he greeted Kelce and moved on to everyone else. Once he got to y/n who was the last one left his wide smile turned into a closed lip grin. Instead of giving her a side hug the way that all the guys did and the way he did to the other girls he just gave her a small wave. She couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt her but it wasn’t going to deter her from her plan.
Rafe had been a nervous wreck ever since that text she sent inviting them over. Kelce had turned to him knowing his best friend would be looking as pale as a ghost. Rafe didn’t know if he was excited or mortified. The hours before the pregame he had been trying on different outfits and making sure his hair looked okay. Why do I even care so much? is all he kept thinking as he finished spraying on cologne.
He cared so much because he was going to y/n’s. Every time he went in with the mentality that it would be different. He would be his usual self and be able to talk to her. But then when he’d see her all his confidence would disappear and he’d be trying to get away from her as soon as possible. He hated the effect she had on him, he hated feeling so defenseless.
After he chickened out of giving her a hug when he came over he lost complete hope for the rest of the night.
They were going to be leaving for the bar soon and all he had been doing was stealing glances at her every five seconds. She was sitting on her couch with a couple of the girls talking about who knows what. He knows that whatever it was it was making her smile big. She was glowing and radiating so much light he almost couldn’t look away. He loved how she blushed whenever talking about something she was passionate about, something he noticed she did. He also noticed how she constantly touched her hair when she was nervous.
His grip on his cup tightened as he thought about her. He wished he could be the one to brush her hair away or hold her hands when she felt nervous. He sighed and looked away, trying to pay attention to whatever story Topper was telling.
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully while smiling, “It’s a good plan guys! I’ll ask if he can stay behind to help me clean so then we can finally be alone together. God I hope he doesn’t say he’ll leave.”
Wren looked at her friend with sympathetic eyes, “This man has no idea what he’s missing out on.”
“You’re going through all this effort for the biggest player at this school,” Jasmine reminded her.
Y/n shrugged a shy smile on her lips, “But it’s Rafe. We know him, he’s-he’s a good guy.”
“She’s not wrong. He is a good guy,” Wren agreed.
Jasmine laughed, “Well let’s hope he actually tries to pull a move tonight. I’m tired of seeing you reject every guy for him.”
Y/n sighed, “If nothing happens tonight then I’ll give up and it means he really hates me.”
Wren put her hand over hers, “He doesn’t hate you babe. I promise you he doesn’t.”
“Ladies I think it’s tiiiime to head out,” Mason said as he walked over. The buzz he had clearly showing.
The three girls looking at each other before standing up. Y/n cleared her throat, “I-I think I’m gonna stay behind a bit.”
“Dude what? No you’re coming out tonight,” Topper said as they all walked into the kitchen.
“I’m coming out tonight Top. I just wanna stay back and clean a bit,” she gathered all the courage she could, “Uh Rafe could you stay back and help me?”
Rafe turned to look at her with furrowed brows. His kind was racing with reasons as to why she would want him to help. He was also fighting with himself to say no.
He looked over at his friends who were all smirking at him. He huffed a dry laugh, “uh yeah yeah sure.” He gave her a tight lipped smile. As soon as he saw her play with her hair and that smile form on her lips he knew she deserved a million yes’.
After everyone left Rafe and y/n started silently cleaning the kitchen and living room. Rafe glanced up at her every so often, catching her eyes a few times. A subtle heat would creep up on her cheeks when his blue eyes met hers.
She brought over a few beer bottles to the kitchen to recycle as she cleared her throat, “so Rafe how is uh soccer?” She needed something to talk to him about, the silence was killing her.
He looked up at her from where he was wiping the counter. The light buzz he had was making him feel a bit more like himself, “It’s good, season finally starts next week.”
She leaned against the end of the counter, “That’s good. I expect big things from you Rafe, you won the championship last year.”
He chuckled nervously, “Now I really have motivation to do good.”
She smirked, “well you’re like insanely talented so I regardless you’re going to kill it.”
“I will if you come to some games,” The words left his mouth faster than he could stop them. But he was glad he couldn’t stop himself. The blush on her cheeks and the way she looked down fighting a smile made any embarrassment he felt worth it.
“Of course I’ll be there,” She smiled at him, “thanks for helping me clean Rafe. I really didn’t want to come home to a messy apartment.”
“Anything for you,” He shrugged with a small smile.
Her heart was pounding in chest as she spoke, “One more shot before we go?”
He chuckled, “let’s do it.”
She looked around for shot glasses, “Uh I think we used all the shot glasses.” Her suspicions were correct when she opened the dishwasher seeing them in there.
Rafe’s stomach twisted at the idea that popped into his brain. He rubbed his hands on his pants anxiously as he spoke, “I can just pour it in your mouth like a couple of freshman.” He tried to joke hoping he didn’t make her uncomfortable with his suggestion.
Her eyes lit up mischievously feeling like a genius as her plan was going better than expected, “Only if you let me doing it you.”
He nodded laughing, “Fair enough, so what’s your alcohol of choice?”
“hmmm tequila,” She smiled.
He picked a bottle from the counter opening it and looking over at her with a smirk, “Ready?”
She chuckled nervously, “uhhh you first.” He handed her the bottle.
She looked up at him, his tall frame towering over her, “Okay you’re gonna have to lean down or something Rafe you’re too tall.”
He walked around to sit at one of the stools. His knees pointed to her, long legs spread. Without thinking she stepped towards him. Practically standing between his legs, “Get ready Cameron.” She smirked hoping to hide just how dizzy he was making her feel. She’d never been this close to him and it was overwhelming.
He tilted his head back opening his mouth. Her face felt hot as she started pouring the liquid in his mouth. She shouldn’t have been as attracted to it as she was. She pulled away after a few seconds. When Rafe was done drinking he looked at her with a smirk, “That was more than a shot.”
She shrugged feigning innocence, “Oops.”
He let a breathy sigh, a smile still on his lips. He couldn’t find any words to say because when he looked at her for too long he got nervous.
“uh it’s your turn,” He stood up taking the bottle from her hands. It was then he realized how close she was. She smelled so good he wanted to lean into her. He wanted to push her hair back and tuck his face into her neck, kiss her pulse as he breathed in her perfume.
Y/n opened her mouth and tilted her head back a bit. Rafe’s hands moved before he could think. He placed his hand on the side of her face, his thumb going under her chin tilting it up gently. Her mouth opened wider on it’s own accord, something in her wanting to do exactly whatever he wanted. Rafe noticed it too and his jaw clenched as he thought about her in ways that aren’t very gentlemanly.
She couldn’t even taste or feel the alcohol starting to go down her throat as she stared at him. Rafe looked incredibly hot as he stood over her. His lip tucked between his teeth as he concentrated not spilling all over her. The few seconds felt like minutes when he was this close. Rafe pulled the bottle away. As she closed her mouth swallowing the remaining liquid Rafe’s thumb wiped away a drop from the corner of her lip before pulling away. She quickly took a drink from the soda she had opened, trying to get the tequila taste out of her mouth.
He cleared his throat as the tension in the room was palpable, “So uh we should um catch up with everyone?” He said as a question because he didn’t know what to do from here. He wanted to do whatever she did.
Y/n wanted him to bend her over the kitchen counter. But she kept her composure nodding her head, “Uh yeah yeah.”
She stepped away from him instantly missing the closeness as she grabbed her purse. He waited by the door as she walked over. His eyes watched her every move. He held the door open for her as she walked out. He never once looked away as she turned her back to him to lock her door, he enjoyed this view of her. The skirt she had on could barely be considered a skirt, it made his pants suddenly get tighter.
He shifted between his feet as she turned around, a tight lip smile aimed towards her. Of course she returned a toothy grin with a short laugh, he was so cute she couldn’t get enough.
Y/n thought her plan was working, she felt like she was really getting him to open up to her and like her. But whenever she felt like she was getting somewhere his awkwardness would return and that feeling in her gut started blooming. The one that made her doubt herself, what if she had come on too strong back inside and that’s why he was being awkward?
-
Rafe watched her from where he stood by the pool table. She was waiting for the bartender to finish making someone their drink before ordering her second round when some random guy went up to her. From what Rafe could see it seemed like she wasn’t really enjoying the guy’s company.
He gripped his beer bottle in his hands as the guy stepped closer to y/n. She was giving him polite smiles and nods as he went on about who knows what.
The walk to the bar was mostly quiet between the two. A somewhat comfortable silence that was filled with small talk. Even after the moments they had pouring liquor into each other’s mouths they couldn’t be normal around each other. Especially Rafe. Anytime his shoulder would brush against hers he’d step over a little not wanting to make her uncomfortable. When in reality she wanted him to wrap his arm around her because she was cold and because he smelled good. The tequila hadn’t had much of an affect on him anymore so any confidence he had with her was diminished.
“Dude it’s your turn,” Topper nudged him trying to get his attention.
Rafe turned to him trying to act as if he’d been watching him try to get the ball in the pocket. He rolled his eyes, “Eager to lose Top.” Topped chuckled shaking his head not wanting to call out his best friend on his staring problem.
He set his beer down and slightly leaned over the pool table as he aligned the stick with the ball. He still had a clear view of y/n, of course he was still looking up at her every second as he adjusted his position. He pulled the stick back as before pushing it forward between his fingers he looked up and his heart rate picked up.
The guy that has been bothering her had put his hand on his girl. He had put his hand on the small of her back, his body pressing against her side as she uncomfortably shifted away from him. It was clear she didn’t want him near her and he wasn’t getting the hint. What made if even clearer was when y/n’s eyes met his from across the room, a desperate look in her eyes.
Rafe could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he grew more angry. He dropped the stick onto the table not bothering to say anything to Topper or anyone else. He took long strides over to them not wanting her to be in that situation any longer. He bumped into a few people on the way but he didn’t care enough to apologize, his eyes zeroed in on her.
Once he was standing behind her Rafe shoved himself between her and the creep. At first y/n was worried it was another creepy guy but as soon as she smelt the familiar dior cologne she knew it was Rafe. The whole time this guy James was talking to her she had been hoping Rafe could read her mind of her pleading him to help her. She had seen him watching them and for a second she felt a sense of pride as she saw a hint of jealousy in his eyes. She hoped she wasn’t wrong about that.
Then the guy noticed that she wasn’t too into whatever he was talking about and decided to touch her to get her attention. Y/n had been leaning on the bar watching the bartender make her drink not full turned to him to hint that she wasn’t interested. When she felt the hand on her lower back she tried leaning away, him thinking that means he should get closer. Panic filled her eyes as she felt helpless, usually ignoring them or politely turning them down would turn guys away but not this one.
Before he could get even closer is when she smelt that amazing dior cologne. Rafe gave the guy a shove, not too hard to where he’d draw attention. He didn’t want to make y/n more uncomfortable by getting the whole bar’s attention by starting a fight.
“Hands off my girlfriend,” Rafe said his voice laced with venom. She stepped to the side but still behind Rafe to look at the scene in front of her. Her eyes widened at his words, cheeks beginning to feel hot like she just took another shot of tequila.
James scoffed putting his hands up in defense, “Dude she was the one coming on to me.” Y/n scoffed glaring at him in disgust.
She was opening her mouth to say something when Rafe laughed mockingly, “Yeah I doubt she’d give you the time of day even if she was single. Go the fuck away now.”
Rafe turned around to her, barely any space between them. His brows furrowed in concern as he took in her glassy eyes and pink cheeks, “Are you okay?”
He looked even more handsome when he was worried about her. She wasn’t even thinking about the situation she was just in all she could think about was Rafe. Maybe her plan had worked.
She cleared her throat trying to find her voice, “uh yeah. yes. Can we actually go outside?” The room had started to feel too hot and stuffy, or maybe her body was just over heating from their closeness.
He nodded, “Come on, follow me.” He grabbed her hand and led her through the crowd. His much taller and wider frame creating a path for her.
Once outside she felt like she could breathe again until Rafe turned to her again and her eyes met his. He was so beautiful it hurt her to think about how maybe he just said what he said to help her. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. She wished he would just talk to her like he talked to everyone else and flirt with her like he did with every girl or like he did a couple hours ago in her kitchen.
“Y/n are you okay,” He asked her again letting go of her hand not wanting to make her uncomfortable. He immediately regretted it and wanted to reach for her again. Rafe wanted to move her hair out of her face and stroke her cheek.
She gave him her best smile even though he could see a sadness behind her eyes, “I’m fine Rafe, I could have taken that guy. It was just hot in there.” She tried to play off.
“You’re lying,” He said softly, “why do you seem sad? I can go back in there and punch the guy.”
She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, “I’m not sad about that.”
“Then what is it? I can help.”
She huffed not really wanting to tell him but knowing she had to rip the bandaid off at some point, “Rafe why don’t you like me? Well I think you like me now. But before why was it only me you never talked to or even any ounce of attention to? But then you like step in and save me from a weirdo and act all concerned so I’m just confused.” She felt like a weight lifted off of her shoulders finally getting what’s been bothering her off her chest.
Rafe stood dumbfounded and feeling the world’s biggest dick. He didn’t think that she had noticed how weird he was around her and now he’s finding out she thinks he hates her. He should be punching himself. It takes him a few seconds to find the right words to say.
“Y/n you’ve always had all of my attention. I-I am always looking at you, in the least creepy way possible,” He sighed finally confessing, “Whenever I’m around you I-I can’t be that Rafe everyone expects of me because you make me nervous. You’re perfect. You’re so nice, funny, beautiful, the smartest person I know, and gorgeous. I was afraid I’d do something stupid or mess up and you’d think I was just some dumb jock.”
She stepped closer to him leaving no distance between them. She put her hands on his chest and looked up at him, “Rafe I’ve liked you since I met you. I-I have been dying for you to do something for so long now, please don’t keep me waiting any longer.”
How could Rafe say no? Her big eyes staring up at him with her warm palms on his chest that were now sliding up his shoulders to wrap around his neck. He grabbed her waist firmly bringing her impossibly closer. That nerve racked Rafe was gone as soon as he heard her say she liked him. He felt like himself now, moving with confidence as he walked backwards pressing her against the side of the bar.
At the same time that her back hit the wall he leaned down and connected his lips with her soft plump ones. She let out and soft moan at the feeling she had been craving since she saw him for the first time. Y/n didn’t even care that her back and hair were pressed agains the dirty wall because one of Rafe Cameron’s hands were sliding up her body and wrapping around her throat gently.
He kissed her with fervor trying to make up for lost time. And oh boy was Rafe already planning on just how he was going go make up for it. After a few minutes they pulled away breaths mixing together as they stayed close to each other.
“Wow,” She whispered before a giggle slipped past her lips. She had finally kissed him.
He laughed with her feeling the same giddiness she did. He reached up brushing some strands of her eyes, “I’m sorry I’ve been an idiot. Let me take you home and make it up to you.”
She nodded shyly. Suddenly not knowing how to act around the Rafe she had been praying to see, “Yes please.”
He smirked leaning forward and pressing a kiss below her ear. He nudged his nose against her ear before softly saying, “Please? Well aren’t you a good girl.”
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