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my-intrusive-stories · 7 months

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Vampire! Engen x Female! Reader: Holding On To You Part 2

Word Count ~ 5313 Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence and Death Notes: I'm so sorry for the delay with this chapter. I wanted to give it the ending it deserved but kept rewriting parts. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I'll try to have my next work done at some point on Monday, but pls bear with me since I have midterms this week.

Hours? Days? Weeks? It was hard to keep track of time when everything was pitch black. After getting shot by the Hunter, Cyrus, you’d been in this strange place for god knows how long. Either this was the afterlife, or you got stuck in a bizarre limbo between life and death. Hopefully, it was the latter.

Another indeterminate period passed before you got tired of staying in place. If something was going to happen, it would have already happened. So you picked a direction and walked. The dark abyss seemed endless. No matter how far you walked or looked, there was only inky darkness.

More time passed, and you were beginning to feel disheartened. Nevertheless, you pressed on. Dying wasn’t an option. People were waiting on the other side. Suddenly, there was a small glimmer of light in the distance. You blinked, thinking it was a hallucination, but no, there was something there. Excited by the prospect of a way out, you started to run toward the light.

Meanwhile, three days had passed in the real world. Everyone in the castle was becoming more worried. You were still unconscious and running a high fever. Even the doctor, Vector, was nervous. Usually, patients would have some semblance of consciousness after several days.

“I’ve never seen a case like this,” the pumpkin-headed man told the anxious onlookers. “(Y/N)’s wounds healed at a rate faster than an average Supernatural, yet she won’t wake up. Her current condition may have something to do with her memory loss.”

“She isn’t in danger of dying, though, right?” Rachel asked apprehensively. If another one of her loved ones died, she wouldn’t know what to do.

“Luckily, (Y/N) seems stable, minus the fever. The best I can do now is put a cold towel on her head.”

“Thank goodness,” Baekji breathed out. You’d risked your life to save hers by getting animal blood in Hunter-infested woods. If you died, she’d feel unbearably guilty.

“Alright,” Vector clapped. “Everyone get out. Crowding in this room is bringing up the temperature. Especially you, Bagna.” He shot a look at the fire spirit. “If you want (Y/N) to recover, give her space to breathe.”

There was some grumbling from the masses, but who were they to disobey the doctor’s orders? Slowly, the Supernaturals filed out of the room. All except for two.

“When I said everyone, I did mean everyone, Engen,” Vector said sternly. His tone softened when he continued, though. “I know you’re worried, but standing over her body won’t do any good for either of you.”

The brown-haired vampire remained silent as he looked at your unconscious figure. Had it not been for the sheen of sweat covering your body, he’d think you were sleeping peacefully. Engen preferred the serene expression on your face to the one he’d witnessed when the Hunter put a bullet through your chest. Guilt tugged at his chest as he remembered how he couldn’t do anything to prevent this. Giving one last glance toward you, Engen retreated to his room to stew in his emotions.

Nearly a hundred years had passed since everyone he loved died. Engen thought he had moved on, but then you showed up. Everything about you was practically identical to his first love. From looks to personality, you were the spitting image of his (Y/N). The only solace was that your eyes were (Y/E/C) and not golden. Still, when he heard Rachel call you (Y/N), Engen nearly punched a hole in the wall. It was as if the world was playing tricks on him.

Bringing you back to the castle was a selfish decision he instantly regretted. Associating with Supernaturals as a human was a death sentence. Still, he clung to the ghost of his (Y/N). Now, you were suffering for his choices. As he lay sleeplessly on his bed, Engen decided he’d do anything possible to keep you safe. No one would touch you again.

Back in the strange, dark world, you were still running. Little by little, the light got brighter. It spurred you on. Had this been the real world, you’d have collapsed from exhaustion, but things functioned differently here. One step at a time, the finish neared. After what felt like an eternity, the end was right in front of you. Right before you could pass through, though, the brilliant glare blinded you. It caused you to fall through. Instead of bracing for impact, every muscle went limp.

When you tried to open your eyes and get up, nothing happened. There was only a stinging pain in your knees and the feeling of grass on your face. Where the hell was this?

“What did you do this time, (Y/N)?” a voice suddenly asked. It sounded like a young boy– a very exasperated young boy.

“Well, I tripped on a rock.” That was your voice? Why did it sound so childish? And who was it that asked the question? Only the Supernaturals at the castle knew of the temporary name Rachel gave you.

That query didn’t last long since you glanced upwards and saw a brown-haired boy with blue-grey eyes. He looked uncannily similar to Engen. Even the slight frown was the same, though the child didn’t have a scar.

As abruptly as he showed up, the Engen look-alike turned to leave. An arm reached out toward his back.

“Don’t leave me again,” you whined involuntarily. It was as if you were a passenger in your own body while someone made decisions for you.

The boy let out a sound of annoyance but turned around anyway. He wasted no time putting you on his back and walking toward a house. Apparently, you shrank because there was no way a child could carry you. This situation was like a strange hallucination.

After carrying you silently for a few minutes, the boy arrived at the house. Before he could knock on the door, it swung open, revealing a cheerful woman and someone you assumed to be her husband. They looked just like you.

“Hello, Engen,” the woman exclaimed cheerfully. “It’s nice to see you. What brings you here?”

“Hello, Mrs. (L/N). (Y/N) fell again, so I brought her back.”

“Again?” she sighed. “Thank you for bringing my clumsy daughter home.”

The woman scooped you up and placed you on a chair. A light flick landed on your forehead, but all you could think about was the information you’d just hear. According to Rachel, Engen was close to one hundred years old. Why would this weird dream involve both of you as children? You weren’t even alive back then, right?

Bandages wrapping around your knee snapped you out of your thoughts. You watched as the woman who claimed to be your mother tenderly wrapped your knees. Her eyebrows furrowed as if she was doing the most delicate of tasks. It made your heart swell. If this was a dream, it wasn’t a bad one.

Suddenly, everything began to blur. The scenery changed from inside your home to a tree near a lake. Sitting near the edge of the water was a slightly older Engen. He stared into the shimmering expanse of liquid with a serene expression. In all your time at the castle, you’d never seen such a peaceful expression on the vampire’s face. You honestly didn’t want to disturb him, but that wasn’t your choice to make at the moment.

“Hey, Engen,” you shouted while sprinting up to him. The boy turned toward you. From behind your back, you produced a book. Engen’s eyes lit up ever so slightly when he recognized the cover. How cute.

“Happy birthday!” you panted out. “Just wanted to give you this. I’ll get going now.”

Once you handed him the book, you turned to leave, but a grip on your wrist stopped you. Engen’s demeanor seemed softer than before.

“I don’t mind if you stay for a bit,” he mumbled while avoiding your eyes. A bright smile spread across your face. Together, you admired the sparkling lake. As you looked into the reflective water, you realized with a start that instead of (Y/E/C), your eyes appeared to be golden.

With that discovery, the world blurred out once again. Another scene played through. And another. And another. Each scenario felt nostalgic for some reason. You dismissed those thoughts every time, though. The gap between your childhood and Engen’s spanned decades. Whoever’s eyes you were seeing through must have been your ancestor or something. If these were real memories, you were simply a spectator in someone else’s body.

Slowly, you let yourself be immersed in this girl’s memories. Using the recollections, you pieced together her life. The golden-eyed girl’s father was an apothecary, and her mother bounded books. They were best friends with Engen’s parents. As it turns out, only Engen’s father, Davon, was a vampire. He’d wandered around before falling in love with a human and settling down.

Using his status as an apothecary, (Y/N)’s father helped explain away Davon’s strange habits as a result of an illness. Instead of human blood, Engen and his father consumed animal blood. They also filed their canine teeth. Since the Supernatural panic hadn’t begun yet, no one in the village suspected a thing.

(Y/N)’s life was actually quite happy. There was never a dull moment, as she constantly sought new things. Learning medicine? Done. Swimming? Been there. Knife-throwing? That was just a Friday. And through it all, she dragged Engen, much to his chagrin. Even though he pretended to be uninterested, the young vampire never declined your invitations. He was obviously smitten with (Y/N) but oblivious that she reciprocated his feelings.

Everything seemed great until you were transported into a new scene. (Y/N) was dragging Engen into her home. Just as she opened the door, Davon’s voice resonated through the living room.

“They’re going to kill us, dammit. And if they discover that you’ve been helping us, you’ll die, too.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. Her father’s and Davon’s heads whipped toward their children. They hadn’t expected their early arrival.

“What’s this about?” Engen demanded. Of the two teens, he was the calmest. (Y/N) tried to mask her concern, but she was still trembling slightly.

The two fathers tried to shrug it off by saying, “It was nothing” and “Don’t worry about it,” but (Y/N) was having none of it. A frown slipped onto her face.

“Don’t say you’ll die, then tell us it’s nothing. Engen is already nineteen, and I’m about to turn eighteen. We have a right to know. You can’t keep us sheltered forever.”

Silence filled the room. Frustrated by the lack of communication, (Y/N) spun around and left the house. She didn’t know where she was going, but anywhere away from that situation was good enough. Engen followed her until she sat down near the lake. He saw the shake of (Y/N)’s shoulders as she tried to conceal her crying. Not knowing what to do, the vampire sat next to her and offered (Y/N) his shoulder until her tears ran out. Silence followed as the two watched the sunset on the lake.

“Hey, Engen,” (Y/N) murmured. The young man let out a quiet hum. “I love you.”

Wasting no time, Engen tilted her head upward and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was filled with years of unspoken feelings. It was so raw and emotional that you felt guilty for intruding by watching through (Y/N)’s perspective.

When the two finally pulled apart, they looked into each other’s eyes. Gold bore into blue, and blue bore into gold. Engen then stood up slowly and offered his hand to (Y/N).

“Let’s go back. Our fathers should be ready to talk now.”

(Y/N) reached out and grabbed Engen’s hand. “Sounds good,” she agreed while standing up. Before she could stand up fully, though, Engen pulled her into a hug.

“I love you, too,” the vampire whispered in her ear. Heat filled (Y/N)’s face while goosebumps covered her skin. Engen wasn’t usually one to verbalize his feelings. Her heart felt like it was trying to escape its confines.

A dazed look was plastered on (Y/N)’s face. How was she supposed to function properly after that? Seeing the flustered look on her face, Engen smirked mischievously. That only served to make (Y/N) even more embarrassed. He was too damn attractive. Using her mental state to his advantage, Engen swept her off her feet and carried her back home.

When they arrived, their mothers had joined the meeting as well. The women noticed Engen and (Y/N)’s slightly swollen lips and began to snicker despite the grave atmosphere. It helped relieve some of the tension.

“So,” your father began, “I’d like to start by apologizing for not telling you this as soon as we learned about it. You deserved to know sooner, but we didn’t want you to worry. In the end, it made you worry more.”

(Y/N) nodded as if to say she accepted the apology.

“With that, let’s get down to the issue at hand,” Davon said seriously. “There’s this new group of people who call themselves Hunters. They hate all Supernaturals and want to eradicate them. Your father,” he looked at (Y/N), “has heard from some patients that some will be coming to this village. If they catch wind that Engen and I are vampires and you helped keep us concealed, they may kill us all.”

“On whose authority?” (Y/N) questioned. “There isn’t a single law stating that you can’t associate with Supernaturals.”

Engen’s mother chimed in. “They have connections and money. Most places turn a blind eye to their actions.”

“So what can we do? Move somewhere else? If they’re as well connected as you say, they’ll probably have stations in other villages.”

“We’ll just have to carry on as we usually have. Any sudden changes to our behavior may arouse suspicion. A Hunter won’t stick around if there are no signs of a Supernatural.”

The idea of passively waiting for the Hunters to leave wasn’t optimal, but there weren’t any other reasonable options. Everyone in the room looked grim. How could they not? Their lives were being threatened by strangers with a hatred for people they’d never met.

“That settles it then,” (Y/N)’s mother concluded. “We’ll have to prepare before the Hunters arrive, but I’m sure everyone here is getting tired. Tomorrow morning, we can sort out the finer details.”

Nods of agreement were shared. With that, the meeting was adjourned. Engen’s parents said their goodbyes and left, but Engen lingered around the door. He seemed to be waiting for (Y/N).

She quietly slipped out of the house and looped her arms around the vampire’s neck. In response, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a kiss. (Y/N) pulled away breathlessly but was brought back into another kiss almost immediately.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Engen whispered against her lips. One of her arms unwrapped from her lover’s neck as she cupped one of his cheeks.

“I’ll be waiting,” (Y/N) smiled. The two released each other from their embrace slowly. Neither wanted to go. After lingering glances, Engen turned and started back to his home.

Despite the grave situation, (Y/N) felt giddy. After years of pining, she and Engen were lovers. The lovestruck expression on her face didn’t leave as she went back inside. Unexpectedly, her mother was waiting for her.

“Did you have fun?” Heat flooded (Y/N)’s face. “Don’t answer that. I’m just teasing you. What your father and I really wanted to do is give you this. If you find yourself in a dire situation, follow the instructions here.”

She handed her daughter a notebook. When you saw it, shock ripped you from your immersion in (Y/N)’s memories. That was your notebook. Why was it here? An uneasy feeling filled your chest at the sight of the familiar item. Before you could question it too deeply, the world blurred, and you were thrust into a new memory.

This time, (Y/N) was in the forest. She seemed to be looking for a specific plant, but it was nowhere to be found. Sticks cut at her knees as she crawled around. A groan of frustration left her lips as the plant evaded her.

“Is this the right plant?” Engen questioned as he crouched next to (Y/N). The plant in his hand had bright red berries and thorns along the stem. You recognized it as hellebore.

“Yes, it is,” (Y/N) exclaimed happily. She pecked her lover’s cheek. “You’re brilliant. Once we get home, my dad and I can make the extract you use to dull your eyes. It’s sad, honestly. Your eyes are so pretty when they glow, but we wouldn’t want any Hunters to see them.”

What? Your notebook said hellebore extract was supposed to be used once a week to relieve stress. What’s this about it being used to reduce the eye glow of Supernaturals? Something was wrong either with your notebook or these memories. These slight idiosyncrasies were becoming more and more unnerving.

Once again, the scene shifted. (Y/N) was at the marketplace buying groceries. Nothing seemed significant about the memory until a Hunter approached her. He was trying to flirt with her but would not take the hint.

Done with hinting, she dropped premises of subtlety and stated, “I already have a lover. Leave me alone.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer a Hunter? We’re quite powerful, you know.”

She’d prefer to retch on his shoes. Had (Y/N) not wanted to arouse suspicion, she’d have caved the bastard’s nose in. As she attempted to walk away, Engen appeared out of the corner of her eye. He looked downright murderous. (Y/N) tried to signal to him to not intervene, but when the sleazy Hunter grabbed her arm, the sound of a fist connecting to a cheek filled the street. Even in the daylight, Engen’s strength was nothing to scoff at.

“How dare you touch a Hunter,” the man screamed. His cheek was already swelling.

“How dare you touch my lover,” Engen countered. He’d wrapped his arms protectively around (Y/N)’s waist. She was trying desperately not to laugh. “Let’s go home.”

The Hunter’s screams of “I won’t forget this” faded as they walked away. You had a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t.

That festering feeling followed you into the next memory. In your experience, a Hunter only left a grudge alone once it was paid back tenfold. You could only hope the following memory was a happy one.

The beginning of the memory gave you hope. (Y/N) and Engen were on a walk through the forest. (Y/N) would spew facts about plants while Engen simply listened. Every few minutes, he’d press a light kiss to her knuckles. Each time, without fail, the vampire’s actions caused (Y/N)’s face to heat up. It made him chuckle.

“You’re such a jerk. Constantly teasing me. How would you feel if I just–” (Y/N) grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss. When they pulled away, Engen paused to think for a second.

“I think you need to do that again, so I know how I really feel.” A teasing grin was plastered on his face.

Unable to look at her lover, (Y/N) smacked him lightly with her bag and stepped out of the forest. Right before she made a witty comeback, the young woman looked toward her house. All coherent thoughts disappeared from her head as two familiar figures were being dragged out of the building. Those were her parents. Following closely behind were Engen’s. The silver shackle on Davon’s ankle gleamed in the sunlight.

As they were hauled outside, the older vampire’s booming voice could be heard across the field. He yelled at the Hunters not to touch his wife or (Y/N)’s parents. His pleas were all for naught, though. Four gunshots rang through the air.

(Y/N)’s knees gave out. Everything went fuzzy. This couldn’t be happening. Bile rose in her throat. Dull pounding filled her ears. Nothing was processing correctly.

Meanwhile, Engen was shaking (Y/N) to snap her out of her daze, but it was futile. The shock of watching her parents die was too strong. With no other options left, the vampire picked up his lover and ran back into the cover of the forest. One of the Hunters spotted them, so it was only a matter of time before they’d catch up.

Engen ran for several hours before he found a cave to rest in. He gently set (Y/N) down, then leaned against the cold stone walls. Reality set in and filled his eyes with pain. Next to him, tears streamed down (Y/N)’s face. Their parents had been ripped away from them in mere minutes.

“I’m sorry for freezing back there,” (Y/N) croaked. “I just… I don’t know. What do we do now?”

Engen absentmindedly stroked his lover’s knuckles. “Let’s just rest for now.”

“Okay,” she murmured. “Love you.” Almost instantly, (Y/N) dozed off, but not before feeling Engen pull her close and kiss her forehead.

Hours later, they were on the move again. The Hunters were undoubtedly on their trail. It put the couple on edge. Every rustle in the bushes made them jump. Every shadow looked like an enemy.

“I feel paranoid,” (Y/N) whispered. “Like at any moment, a bunch of Hunters could jump out.”

No response. Engen had a faraway look in his eyes. So (Y/N) poked him.

“What’s wrong? You seem distracted.”

“I need blood. It’s been too long since I’ve eaten.”

Not hesitating, (Y/N) presented her neck toward the vampire. Engen looked conflicted, but before he could do anything, a bullet flew dangerously close to his head. The Hunters had found them. Wasting no time, they ran as fast as their legs would take them.

Escape seemed attainable, but as fate would have it, they came across a cliff. There was nowhere else to run.

One of the Hunters stepped into the clearing. It was the man from the market. A sick grin spread across his face as he said, “I told you I wouldn’t forget.” Three other Hunters appeared in quick succession. They moved to subdue Engen. Usually, three humans would be no match for him, but the sunlight and his weakened state were disadvantageous. (Y/N) tried to move toward Engen and assist him, but the sleazy Hunter had other plans for her.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart, or else I’ll blow that bloodsucker’s brain out.” (Y/N) complied. “See, that’s not so hard. Now,” he slid behind her and pointed the gun at Engen’s head, “I want you to watch him suffer.”

(Y/N) watched in horror as a Hunter poured holy water on their hand, then gripped Engen’s face. Holy water burned the skin of Supernaturals. Horror turned to rage. Like hell were these bastards going to kill someone she held dear.

Using his temporary distraction to her advantage, (Y/N) grabbed the hand that held the gun and tried to wrestle it away. At the same time, Engen bit the hand that covered his mouth and didn’t let go until he ripped off a chunk of the hand. Lingering holy water burned his tongue, but the blood he consumed gave him the strength to shake off the assailants. The once cocky Hunters were scared now.

(Y/N) continued to fight for control of the gun. Every second, the edge of the cliff got closer. One particularly forceful pull nearly sent them both over the ridge. It gave (Y/N) an idea.

“Let go,” the Hunter snarled as he reared up for another tug.

“If you say so.” She let go of the gun. Not expecting the lack of resistance, the Hunter stumbled toward the cliff’s edge, but not before grabbing the strap of (Y/N)’s bag in a flailing panic.

Together, they careened over the rocky overhang. Engen dove to grab (Y/N)’s outstretched hand, but he was too late.

The memory cut out. You thought that was the end. Few people could survive a fall of that magnitude. Much to your surprise, things didn’t stop there. Instead, (Y/N) woke up at the bottom of the cliff. She was unscathed, other than some rips in her clothing and a missing shoe. How was that possible? If the mangled Hunter to her right was any indication of what she should like, there was no way she should have survived.

Well, since she survived, finding Engen was the first priority. That would be difficult considering the size of the forest. For now, gathering supplies would be essential. The notebook her parents gave her was filled with advice on survival. Soon enough (Y/N) had a shelter. She flipped to the next page and saw a drawing of a flower labeled “Sleeper’s Azolla.” Underneath, it said, “Pollen from the Sleeper’s Azolla can be used to clear your head. Seal it in a vial and use it once every ten years, but never in your village.” Strange instructions, but if her parents had written them, it was good advice.

While looking for food, (Y/N) came across a small patch of flowers resembling the Sleeper’s Azolla. Using the tools in her bag, she tried to extract pollen from the flowers without smelling them. She was successful in bottling and labeling the powder, but some of it had unknowingly gotten on her hands. One slight rub to her nose was all it took to accidentally ingest the pollen.

“What the hell?” (Y/N) muttered as her consciousness faded. Even though she passed out, the scene didn’t change. This had never happened before.

Hours later, (Y/N) woke up, but something was wrong. She couldn’t remember a thing. The uneasy feeling you’d been suppressing came back stronger. This was what had happened to you: waking up with no knowledge of who you were or where you were.

Everything went black.

Back at the castle, Vector was doing research. Your quick recovery from the bullet wound was suspicious. Humans don’t heal that swiftly or that well. There wasn’t even a scar where you were pierced. He had to inform Engen about this.

“What is it?” Engen grumbled. From a distance, the vampire looked put together, but Vector knew better. Deep bags had formed underneath his eyes, and he constantly lingered around the medical room. The fearsome Engen was worried.

“It’s about (Y/N).” Now, that caught his attention. “I don’t think she’s a human. Her healing rate is abnormal in every sense of the word. I overlooked it before because I was worried, but I can’t do that anymore.”

Engen gripped the armrest of his chair so hard that it broke. “So then what is she?” he asked lowly. His eyes were glowing a dangerous shade of blue. It made Vector nervous.

“I-I don’t know,” the pumpkin-headed man stuttered out. “That’s the problem. There are plenty of Supernaturals who can pass as humans. (Y/N) would have to be awake for us to check.”

“Then you need t–”

Without warning, Rachel ran in and accosted the doctor. “Vector, I found stuff in (Y/N)’s notebook that may help you.” She glanced at Engen, whom she’d interrupted. “Sorry, but this is important. Look at these pages.” The dryad presented the pages on hellebore and polkweed.

“Rachel, those are drawings and descriptions of plants.”

“They’re incorrect descriptions, though. It says here that hellebore and polkweed extract is used to relieve stress, but that’s not the case. Hellebore stops our eyes from glowing, and polkweed changes eye color. I talked to Bagna and Ihwa, and they confirmed that (Y/N) was drinking it weekly.”

“That would corroborate my theory that (Y/N) is a Supernatural,” Vector mumbled.

“Wait, there’s more. I also found this,” Rachel exclaimed as she produced a vial full of pollen. “It’s Sleeper’s Azolla. One whiff of this, and you’ll forget everything you’ve ever known. This damn notebook says it’s for ‘clearing your head.’”

Everyone went silent. Who would benefit from creating a notebook with false information, and why did you have it? A wail from the medical room yanked them out of their thoughts. All three Supernaturals ran to check on you, but Engen was the fastest by far.

Inside the room, Engen found you curling into a ball as you sobbed. The screech of the door made you turn toward him. Instead of (Y/E/C), your teary eyes were bright gold. It took all of his self-control to stay standing.

“(Y/N),” he whispered. There was no longer any doubt in his mind. You were the same (Y/N) he fell in love with many years ago. Unable to hold himself back, Engen pulled you into a comforting hug.

You cried into your old lover’s chest. You cried over your dead parents. You cried over the loss of Engen’s parents. You cried over the memories that had been repressed for so long. Every emotion crashed over you in an overwhelming wave.

Engen hated seeing you in so much pain, but what could he do? Even after all these years, he still didn’t know how to comfort you. After half an hour, you passed out. Vector was waiting outside the room when Engen left. The scarred vampire wanted to stay, but for the sake of your health, he allowed Vector to do his job and retreated to his room.

Three hours later, Vector rushed into Engen’s room. “After I confirmed that she’s an Immortal, (Y/N) went missing.” Panic surged through his veins. In an instant, he’d descended the stairs, where he was stopped by Baekji.

“(Y/N) is at the lake,” the female vampire stated. Nodding in acknowledgment, Engen rushed to the lake, where he found you staring at the stars.

“Why did my parents want me to forget? I’ve lived so many lives not knowing who I really am. Each time, I wandered aimlessly, trying to find a purpose. I hoped that one day I would remember who I was, then I could see them again. But it was false hope.” You turned to Engen with melancholy eyes. “It hurts, Engen. It hurts so damn much.”

The vampire sat next to you. He gazed at the gleaming stars and remembered the silver shackle on his father’s ankle.

“I might not seem like it, but I’ve been mourning you and my parents for almost a century. The pain of losing someone never completely goes away. You just learn how to manage the hurt until it doesn’t bother you. Honestly, I was never able to do that for you. When I saw you again for the first time in that forest, I thought my heart was going to burst. I don’t want you to deal with that kind of pain by yourself. Everyone in the castle is happy to be there for you, especially me.” Engen said the last part a little quieter, but you still heard it. Almost one hundred years, and he was the same man you’d fallen in love with.

“Hey, Engen,” you murmured. The man let out a quiet hum. “I love you.”

Wasting no time, Engen tilted your head upward and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was filled with years of longing and desperation, but most of all, it was filled with pure love.

Engen had spent so long clinging to the ghost of you, but now that you were actually here, he’d spend the rest of his life holding on to you.

Thank you for reading! Hopefully, I'll post again in a timely manner soon!

- Mis

#engen #engen x reader #hero killer webtoon #hero killer #hero killer x reader #vampire engen #hero killer oneshots #spooktober

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

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Boundary [Dana’s 700 Special]

Track: Fever - Enhypen / TiO - Zayn / Close - Nick Jonas, Tove Lo

➣ Member: my og bias owo

➣ Genre: idol! ju x stylist! [fem] reader

➣ Warnings: swear words and if you squint, some smut

➣ Word Count: i’m like 100% sure it’ll be as long as accelerate [i was wrong it’s nowhere near but whatever]

➣ A/N: Thank you for 700 followers. You are all nothing but amazing ♡

➣ Taglist: @taesty-wander-lust @tbzzhoe @suzy-rainbow

He’s going to be the absolute death of me.

The thought is loud in your head, and you were almost sure you would’ve blurted it out had the filming studio been empty. Breaking Dawn was blasting from the speakers behind the MV director, experimenting with some strange angles that you’ve never seen any other MV director try with the group before.

If you thought Reveal was dangerous, this might be worse.

“Okay! Let’s do that hook into the chorus first and we’ll see how that angle goes!”

“Breaking Dawn, I see-”

“Cut! Juyeon-” The director snorts while staring at the monitor from the camera. “That was great but um, we’ll need to rate the video if we release this one.”

Never mind. It is worse.

“Yah, Juyeon!”

“Ahh... seriously?”

“You already have enough screen time, why are you so greedy?!”

The members crowd around Juyeon and shove him playfully as the director films that part from the monitor, and brings his cellphone over to the group to see. You can barely hear the music from the phone, given how far you were standing from the filming area.

The group of 11 burst into loud yells and frustrated groans, with Younghoon and Chanhee giving their iconic ‘OoO’ faces to Juyeon. The main man chuckles, embarrassed, and shakes his head while waving it off.

“I didn’t intend to make it so suggestive, sorry!”

“It’s alright, that was great, really!” The director assures him. “It’s just that we can’t release that without rating the MV, and you guys don’t really have that kind of reputation yet so, we won’t do that for you guys now. But anyways, can we get a 10 minute break and we’ll pick up where we left off?”

The boys celebrate in unison, Eric immediately rushing off for the washroom, some members going to the staff to ask for their phones, others going for the monitor to check their progress and the remaining approaching their stylists for appearance maintenance.

So, when Juyeon approaches you with that sly-mixed-with-shame smile, you can’t help but to shake your head at him.

“Really? He asks you to go all out and you look like you want to eat the camera,” Pulling open your little kit, you set it on the table next to you. You pull out the comb and hairspray and start adjusting his hair again - all that dancing’s pushed some strands out of its rightful position.

“Aw, so you agree that I looked good enough?”

“What?” The pitch is higher than expected, but you hope your feigned annoyance camouflages the pinch of jealousy. “Please! The director said it’ll be rated!”

Juyeon laughs, standing with his feet a little more apart than natural for you to have easier access to his hair.

“Well, you’re the one who did my hair and makeup. If it’s anybody to blame, wouldn’t it be you?”

His words halt the sharp end of your comb in his hair, and you poke it into his scalp for good measure while puffing out your cheeks. He chuckles it off.

“Excuse you, sir, Cre.Ker gave me a color palette and a set of reference pics. Ever since they cracked the code with you with Reveal, they just won’t stop with this genre of style on you.”

“I mean... I definitely prefer my current style over what they did to me in Boy.”

The memory cooks up a bunch of images in your head, and you fail to stop the giggle that runs off your tongue when you return the comb to the kit.

“Aw, come on, that was cute,” Picking up a brow pencil, you fill in the tiny fade-out. “You were, what? 19? No reason for you to look as raunchy as you do now.”

“It’s a pity you only met me just before I become ‘raunchy’.”

“Why? I mean, ‘Juyeon’s not a good boy’ though. Raunchy’s closer to that than what you did pre-Reveal.”

“I meant it!” Juyeon widens his eyes and his brows shift up his forehead just as the tip of the brow pencil lifts off his skin. “I’m happy Cre.Ker’s letting us show what we want to.”

“And I’m happy for you too,” You finish up on his foundation where it’s starting to wear off. “But one day, you’re gonna cross a line and break some hearts.”

Juyeon smiles as you cap on all your equipment and close your kit. Resting one hand on your hip, you quickly give his hair one last poke before he resumes his normal standing position.

“What if I only want to break specific hearts though?”

A frown befalls your face and you forge an ugly look by crooking your lips. “What? Was that an attempt to flirt? Please stop,” Waving him off, you turn and pick up your kit, walking away on your heels as Juyeon tails you.

He’s just practising flirting on me at this point. Best friends and best friends for what? Get MY heart broken? PLEASE.

“Flirt with Kevin if you want, he’ll give you better advice,” You turn to the film area and sure enough, Kevin was busy twerking into the camera and Changmin’s just face palming himself.

“Oi Kevin! Stahb it!” You yell across the space and Changmin points to you, turning to yell at Kevin.

“Yah, even y/n’s telling you to stop!”

Chuckling, you turn into the dressing room as another hair stylist finishes with Sangyeon in the mirror.

“Hello sir, you look kinda tired today, are you resting well?”

“Don’t get me started. Schedule’s packed into June,” Sangyeon subtly shakes his head, but his stylist holds his cheeks and shifts his face back to face the mirror.

“Sangyeon, please face the mirror. It’s not my fault if your hair gets messed up again,” The hair stylist grins as he picks up the hairspray.

“Sorry,” Sangyeon blinks at him and purses his lips. Juyeon crashes into the two seater-sofa in the corner of the dressing room and groans tiresomely, resting his head on the top surface of the headrest.

“Well, you should get some rest before Kingdom kicks in,” You place the kit on the dressing table and sit down in the two-seater next to Juyeon. “It’s not going to be an easy fight, y’know.”

“Right! You used to be ATEEZ’s hairstylist!” Sangyeon’s eyes widen and you can see him struggling not to turn to you directly instead of trying to find you in the strangest angle of the reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah. Those guys are intense, and I mean intense! Six out of eight are known for performance skills and the other two... one produces 99% of their tracks and the other belts out notes even I can’t reach.”

“You sound like you were sent from KQ to intimidate us-” Sunwoo struts in and waves an annoying finger in your face.

“I’m not-” Swatting his finger away, Juyeon leans forward and pulls Sunwoo’s hand. “I’m just saying for good measure- it’s not going to be easy. Stray Kids is also going to be great competition, not to mention iKON and-”

“AhHH, we get it!” Sunwoo shushes you, swinging his hand with Juyeon’s.

“No matter the outcome, you all need to know that you guys were stellar last year. I was new then, but it was absolutely stunning to watch you guys work and put so much effort into your performances.”

“Oh my God, yeah, you could not shut up about the Danger performance,” Sangyeon cooes, letting his stylist finally finishes and shifts to pack the hair equipment.

“I’ll bet it’s cause your best friend over here got the most screen time,” Sunwoo perks up a mischievous brow and smirks at you.

Juyeon’s eyes widen and stares at the youngest, “I didn’t get the most screen time.”

“If not you then who?” Sangyeon butts in as he stands.

“Uh... Changmin?”

Sunwoo and Sangyeon go quiet.

“Yah, you had a good amount of screen time too!” Sangyeon turns and blurts out at Sunwoo, playfully shoving him.

“Y’all are being loud in here,” Kevin’s head pops out from beyond the door frame, one of his stylists tagging behind him and struggling to pat down his clothes.

“No, tell me if Sunwoo had more screentime than Changmin in Danger from last year,” Sangyeon wraps an arm around Sunwoo and slowly walks him out.

“What? I don’t know, Changmin had the opening and the dance break...”

Sangyeon’s hairstylist follows closely, and by instinct, he shuts the door behind him, leaving you with Juyeon in the dressing room. It’s humid, from all the lights turned on in the room, and the leather seat wasn’t the most comfortable thing to sit on.

Turning to Juyeon, his eyes are gently shut, and frankly, he looked like he was about to fall asleep. The backrest of the sofa sinks when you lean back, mimicking his position.

“You have like four minutes left so don’t even think of falling asleep.”

“I’m not sleeping,” He offers a tiny smile on his lips, eyes still shut.

“Sure, you’re not.”

“Wake me up when the director needs me.”

“You wish,” The leather under your legs squeak when you push yourself off, but he sticks out an arm at your stomach and pushes you back down. Judging by the miniscule smirk on his face, he’s just messing with you. “What do you think you’re doing? I have a job to do and you have a music video to film.”

He remains quiet. Someone shouts at Eric outside.

“You’re being fucking weird today, sir,” You lift a hand and grab his arm to move it away, but he swiftly wraps his fingers around your wrist and yanks you forward instead.

Using your palms to keep the distance between your faces, you’re hovering above him now, breath on his upper lip. The sweat’s begun to collect in the lines of your palms, stuck to the arm rest by his side and the cushion he’s leaning on.

Your vision immediately darts to his face upon the bold move, and he’s got that slight smile prancing on his lips when he’s thinking of a joke or something funny and doesn’t want to say it. It’s been a good year of being Juyeon’s best friend (apart from the members), so you’ve definitely grown to know how to read him by his actions.

You sigh, rolling your eyes and removing your legs from next to his thighs.

“Juyeon-”

And then he cuts you off by holding you in position with his arm around his waist, challenging your knees to hold you up - because if they buckled, you’ll land right on top of him.

“What the Hell do you think you’re doing?”

Knock knock

“y/n, are you done with Juyeon’s hair? Filming’s resuming!”

There’s an awkward tension between you and Juyeon now, with his eyes wide open and staring into yours, arm still around your waist. But having his nose just inches away from yours and his breath breathing down on your philtrum feels so surreal. It feels like it’s a dream that you’ve failed to pull yourself out from.

He parts his lips, then purses them, and sighs through his nose.

“Yeah, she’s done! I’ll be out in like, two seconds!”

Your gaze finds his and you’re panicking when he’s moving again. Within two seconds, you’re flat on your back on the length of the couch - and this time, he’s holding himself above you.

“What the- I-”

“We’ll continue this later back at the company, I promise,” Then he rounds your cheek and presses a kiss into your cheekbone instead.

He pulls back, offering you his kind smile and a ruffle into your hair for good measure. Nothing in your body is working when you hear him shuffle for the door, and it clicks shut behind him, with Breaking Dawn already blasting in the filming space.

Sucking in a deep breath, you don’t realise how hard your heart is thumping in your head until you hear your own shaky exhale. You don’t know where to look, you can still feel his grip on your waist and his breath on your upper lip, and everything’s just a mess right now.

What the Hell just happened?

“Eric - Dior Shirt Size M...” You mumble under your breath, fingers gripping the pen to the clipboard so hard, your writing would probably leave a mark in the sheet under.

“I think this is the last luggage!” Younghoon’s stylist drags the black case in, lining it up with the last unopened one. “Need help?”

“Yeah, just open the luggage for me and separate Sangyeon’s clothes from Jacob’s, but otherwise I can handle it on my own.”

She nods, laying it down and unzipping it for the clothes to spew out. “How’s working here? It’s been over a year, right?”

“Mhm,” You glance at her, obviously tired. “It’s alright, but thanks to your advice since last year, I don’t think it could’ve been better.”

With a kind smile, she looks up at you, placing Sangyeon’s pants over his stack. “You’re experienced from ATEEZ, so it wouldn’t have been that hard anyway.”

She stands, resting her hands on her hips as you walk over, squatting to check Sangyeon and Jacob’s clothes.

“So... what’s going on with you and Juyeon?”

I’d like to know too.

“Huh?” You look up at her, head tilted to the side with a sneaky cocked brow. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, please- All the stylists here know you and Juyeon are like- hanky panky nowadays. Pretty sure the boys know too, or at least have some idea.”

A cackle runs your throat dry as you graduate your attention to Jacob’s clothes. “Is that what they’re calling it? ‘Hanky-panky’? Cute.”

“Do you know why they’re still in a meeting this late?”

“No, why would I bother? As long as I don’t lose my job, it’s none of my concern.”

“They’re in meeting to be informed that their dating ban has been lifted.”

Your grip around the pen tightens, but halts abruptly.

“Ah...” She sighs, contemplated with herself. “Cat got your tongue? Or should I say... Juyeon got your-”

Interrupted by the practise room door being pushed open, both of your attentions immediately flit to the new commotion.

“Oh, Juyeon! Meeting’s over?”

“Yeah,” He turns and closes the door behind him. His hair was still waxed up from the day’s schedule, makeup still on but fading. Clothes snug around his shoulders with his belt tight around his hips. Those stupid jeans never did you any good since day 1. “Sangyeon said he left a ring in one of the luggages so he sent me to come get it while he counsels Kevin for twerking.”

“y/n’s just going through Sangyeon’s wardrobe, so she might find something,” Your colleague’s begun to take small, insignificant steps towards the door, and your anxiety begins to increase with every inch she places between the two of you.

“Which is why I’m here,” He stuffs his hands into his back pockets.

“Right, right,” Now, she’s already got her hand on the door knob, glancing past him and at you with wide, glistening eyes. “I gotta go check your wardrobe for tomorrow so... I’mma go now, and uh... security comes by around 12am. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“What-” You blurt out, receiving a sharp, surprised look from Juyeon.

“Bye! Bye Juyeon!”

“Bye,” He waves.

“No, wait-”

And so, the door clicks shut behind her, and her shadow behind the translucent material disappears down the corridor.

The whir of the air-conditioner in the practice room fills all the awkward openings in the room, but all you can hear is the rapid thunk of your heart in your brain - as if that was even possible.

Thunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunk

“About earlier today-”

“Give me a moment while I look for Sangyeon’s ring. What does it look like?” Standing up too fast, your vision goes white and a second of dizziness throws you off your balance.

So, of course, Juyeon rushes over and holds you by your waist before your ankles or knees give way. The incessant blinking makes you wish you could actually pass out right now, because your weight’s in his arms and you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“Iron deficiency much?” The corner of his lips curl up into his cheek before releasing you. “Do you need to sit down?”

Clearing your throat, you turn away first. “No, I-”

“Good, because I have some points to make and you’re gonna stop running away from them like you’re doing now.”

The change in tone runs chills down your spine and goosebumps erupt all over your skin - thank god you were wearing a blazer, safe from his observation.

“How have you tolerated it so much?” He folds his arms across his chest, tilting his head innocently but his eyes say otherwise. It’s always his eyes that tell a whole different story from the person he’s known to be.

“Y’know, being around me but you’re so calm and collected and I just...” He shakes his head, and to your dismay, takes a step forward - which drives you backwards. “How?”

His voice is too sing-songy. It’s too calm and collected for you because you’re about to barf up your dinner, which was a good 4 hours ago now. There’s nothing left in your stomach to barf up.

He takes another intimidating step and you wince at your inability to look him in the eye.

Another step back.

“Like, I know we’re friends but my God-” Shaking his head, he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.

Another step forward. Another backward.

“It’s upsetting that I can look ‘raunchy’ and it doesn’t seem to do anything to you... But seeing you the way you are every other day makes me want to- just-”

Another step forward.

One more one back.

And your breath halts.

Your back hits the wall, the rear of your skull lined with the pillar.

Oh, no.

Gritting your teeth so tight, your jaw starts to ache and your temples are throbbing.

“I’m not seeing things, right?” A flicker of curiosity sparkles in his eyes when you muster up the courage to look at him - only to regret it instantly. “It’s not in my head that you feel the same way I do, right?”

“I... Don’t know what you’re talking about- You’re an idol... and I’m- I’m just your stylist and I-”

“‘Just my stylist’?” The comment forces his brows into a slight frown, before he lifts his hand and covers the bottom half of his face with his palm. “Rethink what you just said.”

Sucking in a deep breath, your chest wells with a horrid mix of desire and self-discipline. Those two don’t go well together.

“We can talk about this some other day,” You choose to say, dragging your body along the pillar in a bid to shift out from the wall-Juyeon sandwich like a fool. He lifts his arm and presses his palm into the pillar behind you, caging your poor, poor soul in this fateful corner of his stupid practice room.

“Juyeon, we need... boundaries in this industry. One scandal and it’ll destroy your career.”

“Boundaries?” He buckles his elbows, shrinking the gap between your noses. “Boundaries are for idols who still have a dating ban.”

Breathing down your nose, he’s too close for comfort. You can smell his cologne, the scent of his hair wax and see the bumps on his cheek under the faint layer of makeup. You don’t realise you’re trembling until he tilts his head ever so slightly, free hand reaching up to your chin to steady your face.

“Stop running from me,” Shaking his head painstakingly subtly, he whispers into your lips. “You were mine from the start and you know that.”

The adrenaline rush through your nerves sets off fireworks all over you when he slots his body against yours, lips fitted with yours like puzzle pieces; against the wall, with his palms on your cheeks. There was no care or consideration with how much strength he was channeling into this kiss - it feels so pent-up, so frustrated. Without warning, your body resigns as you circle your arms around his shoulders.

Gripping the rim of his collar in your hands, his hands drop to your waist and holds you closer, if it were even possible. A million thoughts race through your head - and at the same time, none. This moment was something you didn’t even know you needed.

Juyeon’s hands roam the small of your back as he keeps you against the wall, relaxing into the kiss and sighing into it instead.

This bliss comes in the form of him. Him who provides you all the sinful wants deep down inside you.

But this bliss doesn’t last, for the practice room door swings open violently and tears Juyeon off you.

“I told you to find my ring, not hook up with your crush!”

463 notes · View notes

amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Hogwarts AU (Haikyuu!)

feat. Tsukkishima Kei

requested for by @animestheticz (hope you enjoy it bb!)

Previously:

Miya Atsumu. Miya Osamu. Kita Shinsuke. Kuroo Tetsuro.

Masterlist link here

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff

Wordcount: 2k

Genre / Pairings: Fluff, Hogwarts AU, Tsukkishima / Reader

A/N: Any other characters you’d like to see? Send me an ask!

(happy to do any characters other than Kenma / Hinata / Tendo - I don’t trust myself to do them justice!)

Oh and this is just shameless advertisement for my other fic - but I’m also writing a multi chapter fic based off Your Name / Kimi No Nawa featuring Akaashi Keiji (i.e. a bodyswap AU featuring our favourite Tokyo pretty boy). Check it out here!

——————————————————————

“P-please? Just this once?’ Yachi begs, fingers gripping your sleeve like a vice.

You’re sorely tempted to refuse her ridiculous request, but you can’t bring yourself to. This is Yachi Hitoka, your best friend, though currently she’s a nervous wreck fretting over her first date with Yamaguchi Tadashi. The sweet, freckled Hufflepuff chaser has finally worked up the courage to act on his painfully obvious crush on Yachi - both veritable balls of sunshine, so sweet and anxious and caring that you can’t imagine a better match.

So you don’t understand why on earth you’re being asked to tag along on a double date with one Tsukkishima Kei.

It’s not that you dislike the guy – far from it. You’ve had a crush on him yourself ever since Yachi started hanging around Yamaguchi in your third year, sucking you and Tsukkishima have been sucked into their orbit, reluctant moons revolving around twin suns. But you’ve tucked it away since Tsukkishima doesn’t seem to have an interest in anyone at all – in fact, half the time his snarky replies and cold silences make you think he barely tolerates Yamaguchi as a friend, let alone yourself.

Still, refusing Yachi is tantamount to kicking an injured puppy, so you swallow your reservations and agree.

‘Thank you!’ Yachi cheers. ‘We’ll have fun, I promise!’

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

It’s summer, and your blouse is sticking to your back as you dash through Diagon Alley. Tsukkishima and Yamaguchi are already waiting in front of Flourish & Botts, the former barely even granting you a nod, though he does give you the courtesy of removing his headphones, while Yamaguchi bounces on the balls of his feet to greet you cheerfully.

‘Woah there Yamaguchi – keep your enthusiasm for your date’, you joke, and he grins back at you. And he does – stuttering and blushing as Yachi arrives. Yachi herself is no better – you swear you can hear her teeth chatter as she greets all of you, though she beams when Yamaguchi presents her with a small posy of flowers with clammy hands.

‘They’re cute’, you remark to Tsukkishima as you walk beside him on the way to the first stop - Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

‘Mm’, he responds, his face blank.

You know he doesn’t suffer fools – worse still, talkative ones, so you fall silent until you reach the ice cream store. To your surprise, he pulls the chair out for you, and accepts your offer to share a cup of ice cream with you, a tilt to his lips when you automatically order a strawberry shortcake sundae – it’s his favourite after all.

Yachi and Yamaguchi seem to have gotten over their initial shyness, chatting up a storm in their own little world. You’re excluded, as you expected, but you’re glad for their sakes.

‘Excited about the last year of school?’

You glance up from your melting sundae, surprised that Tsukkishima is the first to break and initiate a conversation. From your interactions with him, he’s deliberate and methodical in his thoughts and words, so you take a few beats to formulate a response.

‘Yes and no, really’, you answer honestly.

He raises a thin blonde eyebrow, wordlessly beckoning you to elaborate.

‘I’m excited for our classes, the syllabus seems really interesting this year’, you say, wincing at how desperately nerdy you sound – but you’re a hopeless Ravenclaw, and advanced Arithmancy and Astronomy excites you. ‘But it’s scary isn’t it – knowing that it’s our last year, and having to make all those important decisions that are going to affect us, years down the road?’

He hums thoughtfully. ‘I get that’, he responds, hands steepled under his chin. ‘I’m deciding between doing further studies in magical history and going pro – just for a few more years. But I know no matter what decision I end up making, I’ll probably end up second guessing myself’.

‘Why can’t you do both?’ you find yourself saying before you can stop yourself. His brow furrows a notch. ‘You’re great at both, and I can’t see why you can’t as long as you put your mind to it’.

You cringe at your cheesiness, expecting him to snark at you for your Hufflepuff-like optimism the way he does with Yamaguchi, but you’re surprised once again when he mutters a quiet ‘thanks’, a flush high in his cheeks, and then asks - ‘And what about you?’

You wonder if he’s merely being polite, but his tone is serious, and his eyes are intently focused on you, so you tell him about your plans of taking on further studies in Arithmancy, perhaps even enroll in a Muggle university to study Mathematics for a semester or two, before working in Gringotts. The goblins may be archaic in their beliefs about the magical world, but their application of mathematics is extremely advanced.

‘It suits you’, he comments. You want to ask him what he means by that, but Yachi pipes up from across the table.

‘If you’re done with your ice cream, do you guys want to check out the magical menagerie? Yamaguchi’s going to get a cat!’

Before you can agree, Tsukkishima tells Yachi and Yamaguchi to go on ahead, drolly reminding them that they’re on a date, and they should go spend some quality time together. So they head off with wide smiles, shoulders bumping. They’re so sweet together it almost makes your teeth ache. Well, at least you’ve been dismissed as their reluctant chaperone, and you’re about to wish Tsukkishima a polite farewell when he taps your shoulder.

‘Let’s go check out Flourish & Botts. I’m sure you have books you want to check out’.

You blink – because you do, but you don’t expect Tsukkishima to accompany you, let alone be the one seeking out your company. He doesn’t even wait for your assent before he sets off, and you have to jog to keep up with the pace his long legs set. Thankfully, he notices you’re still lagging behind and slows down, though he teases dryly – ‘you know, at the rate you’re walking, I’m not sure we’ll get there before sundown’.

You pointedly look up at the sun, still high in the sky, before levelling an unimpressed glare at him. He only smirks in response – and you’re so flustered by how attractive his expression is that you nearly trip over the threshold to Flourish & Botts. He catches you with a steady hand to your elbow – and now your heart is fluttering – is this how Yachi is like all the time? If so, you should really cut her some slack – the thoughts crowding your mind so distracting that you hardly hear Tsukkishima call your name in concern until he shakes your shoulder gently.

‘Are you alright?’ Tsukkishima repeats, with a frown.

‘Y-yes’, you reply, cursing your traitorous heart again. He doesn’t look like he believes you, insistently pushing you towards an empty couch.

He clicks his tongue. ‘Don’t move’ he orders, before he disappears, probably to get the books he has his eyes on.

You sink into the cushions, resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands in embarrassment. An hour spent in his presence and you’ve already turned back into a lovesick fool. You’ve told yourself countless times to just get over your silly crush on him already because it’s not going to do you any good.

Yamaguchi’s complained to you and Yachi countless times about girls asking him if Tsukkishima is single, but you don’t see him taking an interest in anyone at all – spending all his time instead in the library and on the Quidditch pitch.

He’s the stone faced beater from Ravenclaw. People wonder sometimes if ice flows in his veins – but they don’t see the determined set of his jaw when he’s ploughing through homework and assignments because he knows he’s going to have to spend the whole day in training the next day, the glint of satisfaction in his eyes whenever he wins a match or scores a good grade, the patience he expends tutoring Yamaguchi (along with Hinata and Kageyama) in Ancient Runes –

Oh Merlin. You’re a hopeless case.

You jump when he returns and drops into a seat beside you.

‘Oi, what’s wrong with you’, he mutters a tad scornfully, though he drops the book you were eyeing onto your lap.

‘N-nothing. T-thanks!’ you answer, internally cursing yourself for even picking up Yachi’s speech patterns.

Get it together. You’re not a fool.

He hums, browsing his own book.

It’s pleasant spending an afternoon in a nook reading books. It’s not so pleasant when your heart palpitates every single time his knee grazes yours - and if you shift just a tiny bit to the left you’re pressing against his side and - oh

‘Are you sure you’re ok?’ he asks, frowning again, when he notices you’ve been reading the same page for the past fifteen minutes.

‘F-fine’, you stammer, warmth flooding your cheeks when he leans his face dangerously close to yours, bringing his palm to brush against your forehead.

‘Your temperature’s fine’, he mutters, but he doesn’t pull away – and oh gosh, you’re so close you can count every single lash on his eyes, your traitorous heart causing you to drown in the quiet concern in his eyes – and oh -

You’re not quite sure who makes the first move because your eyes flutter close, your nose bumps against his and you feel his chapped lips against yours for a split second before he pulls away.

You open your eyes.

Did that truly happen?

Judging from the blank expression on his face, the past few seconds were probably just a fever dream. But there are signs that cool, quiet Tsukkishima isn’t his usual self - a flush creeping up the back of his neck, his fingers gripping the pages of the book so tightly it starts to crinkle.

‘What was that?’ you blurt out, confused.

‘What was what?’ Though his voice remains calm and collected, his flush has traveled all the way to the very tips of his ears.

‘Nothing’, you answer, dropping your eyes back to the open book on your lap, your mind in a whirl. Surely you didn’t imagine that, right? Did you just - did he just - wait, you’re confused again, what’s going on?

Your thoughts are interrupted by elegant, long fingers slotting between your own. ‘Silly’ he mutters, but there’s a fond twist to his lips and a softness in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

‘I’m pretty sure I’m not the only silly one here’, you respond, in a sudden swell of confidence, though your pulse is sending tremors down your spine, your breath catching in your throat. ‘I’m pretty sure you’re the silly one too’. You curl your fingers over his and lean into his side.

He hums diffidently. ‘I guess it might seem that way’.

You both share a shy smile.

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

Yachi is smug when you confess to her later that Tsukkishima - no - Kei asked you out as he walked you home that evening.

‘I told you that we’d have fun!’, she says, grinning cheek to cheek. Then she starts rambling on and on about future double dates with her and Yamaguchi in Madame Puddifoots, where you can share couple sundaes and steaming mugs of hot chocolate - wouldn’t that be wonderful?

You resist the urge to tell her that Kei has sworn off any future double dates - let alone at the white and pink lace bedazzled monstrosity of a cafe, and his suggestion of a quiet afternoon spent at his favourite bookshop cafe sounds far more inviting to you.

You’ll let Yamaguchi break the news to her later, on a more appropriate date.

Instead you just smile to yourself, thinking of the quiet affection in his voice as he wished you farewell, and the suppressed delight in his eyes when you called his name just as he was about to turn away and surprised him by pulling him down to you and pressing your lips to his cheek.

Yachi’s right. You did have fun after all.

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solarwonux · 3 years

Text

8. “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

25. “It’s an office with huge windows, everyone can see.” “So?”

marketing director!mingyu x f!reader

w.c: 2.6k

warnings: a little bitt of angst, a little bit of fluff, suggestive themes like voyeurism briefly mentioned

note: ngl, I’m sorry not my best work but I TRIED. Let me know your thoughts it would really help me out a lot. Thank you for reading.xx

masterlist || prompt list

Kim Mingyu - Marketing Director

The nameplate on the door sends a shiver up your spine, knowing that the man you had accidentally pulled in for a drunk kiss the night before during the weekly company bonding dinner, was sitting just behind the door. He was pissed, had pushed you away, made a big deal in wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in disgust. Causing you to sober up quickly and regretting it.

It’s no secret that God had taken his sweet time when creating Kim Mingyu Marketing Director of GoSe Enterprises. He put all the Greek Gods you spent your free time reading about to shame. You’ve been crushing on him since he sat in the cubicle next to yours for years. The two of you had developed a nice easy-going friendship. He was sweet, funny, and always offered amazing advice, both on personal and professional matters. You were practically head over heals for him.

Then the promotion came, granting Mingyu with an office on the southside of the company building. Huge windows overlooking the city below, and the office. A nice fancy gold nameplate with his new job description underneath it. Naturally, the two of you grew apart, ripped from one another without a warning. He was no longer rooting for you and your ideas. Instead, he was the one turning down all your project proposals. He was the one assigning you the revision tasks he knew you hated doing. He was the reason for the random spikes of anxiety throughout the workday. He was no longer your friend, he was your supervisor. His soft demeanor and fleeting touches were nowhere to be found. Lost amongst piles of paperwork surrounding his desk.

You took a deep breath holding your laptop close against your chest, eyeing the nameplate on the large dark wooden door that took your Mingyu away from you a year ago. You were nervous. He only ever called you down to his office if you had a proposal revision due, which this time you didn’t.

The last idea you had pitched two weeks ago was turned down before you could finish your sentence during your first PowerPoint slide. He didn’t even give you the chance to improve it, simply said, “trash it, it’s not worth wasting your time when it’s not a plausible option.” So, the only other option left and the one that made sense was your slip-up the night before. He had called you down to ask for your resignation letter for breaking company policy.

“If you keep staring at the door it won’t magically open,” Chan spoke next to you making you jump. “I’m just saying.” He shrugged sheepishly and opened the door, walking in with confidence. “Mingyu I have the copies you asked for.”

You filed in after him, situating yourself close to the wall and by the door, while Mingyu instructed Chan on where to set down the copies. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest, watching as the two of them laughed about some inside joke they had. The anger along with jealousy boiled with fever deep within you.

This was the problem. Mingyu had only changed when it came to you. With everyone else he was the same Mingyu you once had the pleasure of knowing, and that not only confused you but it made you angry. “Are we still on for guys' night this friday?” Chan asked the older male pointing finger guns at him.

“Yes, of course, drinks are on Seungcheol this time, which makes my wallet really happy.” Mingyu clapped Chan on the back and led him towards his office door. “Same bar with the cute bartender?” He emphasized, his angry gaze falling on you for a second.

Subtle you silently scoffed rolling your eyes, holding your laptop as close to your body as humanly possible.If he didn’t make his distaste towards you obvious by his reaction last night, he surely made it painfully clear just now.

“That’s the one.” Chan nodded, sending you a pitying look, one you didn’t need. You knew you were fucked.

Everyone knew about your painful crush on Mingyu. Everyone had seen you grab the collar of his dark maroon shirt last night and plant a wet alcohol filled kiss against his lips. Everyone had seen the way he reacted, yanking his suit jacket off the back of his chair and walking out of the bar pissed. So, you didn’t need the various pitying looks you were getting since the moment you walked in that morning.

“Alright then I’ll see you then, don’t forget to turn in your proposal by tomorrow night, Jeonghan keeps bugging me about it.”

Chan sighed, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand, “shit, I’ll have it done by tomorrow morning.” He said quickly before speed walking back to his cubicle. Leaving you alone to face the problem you had caused.

Mingyu laughed lightly, shaking his head as he shut the door to his office, “I knew he forgot.” He mumbled before straightening his back, the scowl you were used to seeing appeared on his face once again. He walked past you to his desk, taking a seat next to his name plate. You stayed put, looking down at the floor, only counting the tiny dust bunnies that were visible to your eye.

Mingyu cleared his throat, “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

You raised your head pushing yourself off the wall and walked to him. Stopping behind one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “Don’t need to, It’s my fault for breaking company policy. I’ll hand in my resignation letter to Jeonghan tonight.” You kept your eyes trained on the skyscraper reflecting through the window behind him. Anything was better than looking at him right now.

He sighed, running a frustrated hand across his face. He pushed himself away from his desk and took a step forward. “I didn’t call you in here to ask you to resign.”

Confused, you tore your eyes from the building behind him and looked at him. The bags under his eyes that had started to form from lack of sleep and overwork were now more prominent than before. It made you wonder if he hadn’t slept last night because of you, but then you remembered the huge project he was currently working on, so you casted that thought aside.

“Oh then...I-umm, why am I here?”

“Do you have any idea the position you put me in last night?” He furrowed his brows, placing a knee down on the chair in front of him. He leaned his forearms against the back of it, closing the distance you purposely kept between the two of you.

You took a step back, scrunching your nose, “I don’t understand. You don’t want me to resign. If I’m not getting penalized then why am I here?” You dropped your arms in defeat. “If you called me in here to tell me you’re not interested in me, you don’t have to. I already know.” You finished swallowing the lump that had formed at the back of your throat.

“That’s the problem.” Mingyu pointed an accusing finger at you before retreating it. “I am interested in you, more than interested in you. I have strong feelings for you and I can’t act on them because I don’t want everyone to think that I favor you, because I do.”

I’m dreaming, you thought pressing the palm of your hand against your heated forehead. You had to be dreaming, life has never been this giving to you, “wait I’m confused...you ran out last night, literally pushed me away, disgusted. Do you have any idea how that felt? I had to sit down and face our co-workers with a fake smile on my face because I didn’t want them to see me cry.”

Mingyu’s face softened, he gripped the back of the chair hard enough for his knuckles to almost turn white. “I know and I’m sorry but if I had stayed then I would’ve kept kissing you. You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to do that.” He dropped his head releasing a shuddering breath. “Every time we stayed here working over time, the only thing I could think about was how easy it’d be if I just leaned over a little more and kissed you. No one would be around, no one would see, it would just be our little secret. But the stupid company policy always seemed to find it’s way into my head and I never let myself cross that boundary.”

“Mingyu w-why are you telling me this now? Even if we have feelings for one another, my job is important to me and I don’t want to risk getting fired because we’re together.” You blinked rapidly, now was not the time to cry. You could cry later in the communal bathroom across the hall, or on the bus ride home, just anywhere but here.

“Well,” Mingyu rounded the corner of the chairs and made his way to you, finally closing the distance. “I talked to Jeonghan -”

“Wait you told him we kissed?” You were sure your eyes were bulging out of their sockets as the realization hit you. Of course, Mingyu wasn’t going to fire you, he was saving himself the burden and having Jeonghan do it for him.

He chuckled, placing a hand against your hip making you jump, “Just how drunk were you last night? Jeonghan was there when it happened. He called me and threatened to fire me for leaving you the way I did.” He whispered, circling his arm around you and pulling you close, making you stumble from the sudden impact. “H’said, fuck company policy and that I was stupid for following it when no one does.”

“Wait are you saying th -”

“Yes we can be together as long as we keep our work and personal lives separate, so, no sex in my office.”

You gasped hitting his chest lightly, this lewd side of Mingyu was one you had never seen before. Or at least you had but in a much more subtle way. “Well of course, we can’t do that. That was never going to be part of the deal.” The thought of him pressing you against his desk after hours sent a thrilling shiver up your spine. You bit your lip, shaking your head. No, not allowed, focus.

“Why not? I’ve slept on the couch here a few times. It's pretty comfortable.” He reassured, hooking his thumb in the belt loops of your dark slacks. “And your ass looks so good in these pants, I literally have to make it my mission to not stare.”

“I’m flattered, I guess. But look around Gyu.” His gaze followed your hand as you waved it around in front of him. “It’s an office with huge windows, everyone can see -”

He pulled you closer, eloping your body in both of his arms, “so?” He tilted his head to the side, a smirk playing against his lips. You had forgotten how much he liked to tease you.

“So?” You rolled your eyes, “were you not listening to what I was saying everyone can see.” You emphasized, poking his cheek with your index finger.

Mingyu bit his bottom lip trying to suppress his laughter. He forgot how easily flustered you could get, especially when he would say something out of pocket to you. Sure, half of the time you would ignore him, sometimes you would simply roll your eyes, focused on whatever you were working on. Other times he would leave you at a loss for words.

“Frankly, I don’t see the problem. We can just wait until everyone goes home and then give whoever is walking by a free show.” He finished raising his eyebrows suggestively at you.

You rolled your eyes, pushing him away and walked to his door. “I can’t believe you’re already thinking about having sex with me and you haven’t even asked me out on a date or to be your girlfriend.” You pushed his door open and walked out, “the audacity you have Kim Mingyu.”

He felt panic surge through him, his big mouth getting the best of him once again. “Woah woah wait I was getting there, you didn’t give me the chance to ask.” He followed you out the door, trying to keep up with your hasty steps. Who knew you could walk so fast in heels.

Once you were at your cubicle you sat down, placing your laptop on top of your desk, waking it up. “Too late, company policy says we have to keep our work and personal lives separate, guess you’re going to have to wait a while.” You look at the digital clock on your desk, “Five and a half hours to be exact.”

Mingyu threw his head back, frustrated. As much as he enjoyed teasing you, he had forgotten that you were equally as evil if not worse. He had waited to ask you out for more than two years and now that he could, he literally couldn’t wait five and a half hours.

“Friday, after work?” He whispered, covering the side of his mouth with his hand to make it look less suspicious. It wasn’t working.

“What about guys night and that cute bartender?” You smirked, clicking around your computer opening the files you were working on earlier.

Mingyu took a deep breath and grabbed the back of your chair, swinging it around ripping you away from your computer screen. “Fuck guys night honey, I’m taking you home, cooking you the best meal you’ve ever had and then -” He stopped peaking over your cubicle. Everyone that had tuned in to your debacle, quickly scrambled to focus on whatever they were doing before you and Mingyu walked in. He nodded once before leaning down, his lips close to your ear, whispering, “then I’m going to fuck you against my window so everyone can see that you’re finally mine.”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning.You put your hand on his chest and leaned in, placing a soft kiss against the shell of his ear. “Kinky, ask me again in five and a half hours.” You gave his cheek a gentle pat before pushing him away, returning your attention to what you were doing.

Mingyu grumbled, shoulders slumped as he dragged himself back to his office. You stifled a laugh, the butterflies you had once felt for him returning.

“You know I heard all of that.” Soonyoung spoke, peeking his head into your cubicle, his eyes wide like he had just seen a ghost, or something utterly disgusting.

Fuck! Mingyu! You whined silently before turning to face your cubicle mate. “I’ll buy you lunch if you pretend like you didn’t hear anything.”

He put a pensive hand on his chin before sticking his hand out for you to shake. “Deal, I suddenly have been overcome with amnesia, whatever happened in the last five minutes I do not remember, that’s only if you promise to also finish revising this project proposal for me.” He waved the large packet of white copy paper in front of you.

You groaned, “that wasn’t part of the deal we just shook on.”

He sucked in air, “I don’t remember that.” He pouted. “I have amnesia, remember.”

“Fuck fine.”

#kpopscape #kdiarynet #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #mingyu fanfic #mingyu fanfiction #mingyu imagines #mingyu drabbles #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader

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reidology · 3 years

Text

Dying in a bathtub - Hotchreid

Summary: Hotch gets nightmares and hides in the tub, so Spencer makes it comfy for him <3

Word count: 4.4k

Content warning: discussion and description of nightmares, smut, brief description of physical abuse, light angst, quite fluffy, happy ending <3

AO3

__________________________________________

The first time it happened Spencer woke up shivering, the cold of a missing body beside him seeped through the sheets chilled his bones. He braved a lazy glance to his bedside, squinting to see the alarm clock blinking big and aggressive red numbers. 05:25. Aaron must have gone out for a morning run, something Spencer never understood. In fact, his reasoning of ‘why run, when sleep?’ whenever Aaron attempted to get him to join always earned him an affectionate eye roll and kiss on the cheek, so why would he ever give that up? No promise of endless coffee can get Spencer Reid to wake up before 7am, much less for exercise.

Reluctantly the sleepy man made his way to the bathroom, knowing he might as well shower and get ready for work now, there’s no way he could get back to sleep without his human furnace of a boyfriend covering him completely. Only, through his grogginess he failed to notice the boyfriend-shaped body softly snoring in the tub.

So he padded over to the semi-closed shower curtain and blearily reached in to turn the water on for it to heat up while he got ready.

Almost as soon as the water turned on, a high-pitched shriek assaulted the young agent’s eardrums. Spencer did what, in his opinion, any caught-off-guard fully trained FBI agent would do— he squealed in shock and fell back on his ass. A moment later the shower curtain pulled back, revealing a very irritated -and very wet- Aaron Hotchner.

“Babe what the fuck,” the older man whined, wringing out his shirt and turning the freezing water off, “I was sleeping!”

“Oh this is my fault?!”

“Yes! Couldn’t you see me?!”

“I just woke up!”

“Me too!” Aaron pointed to his wet shirt as if to say you have no excuse for this.

Spencer let out a frustrated sigh and pushed himself up from the floor. Somehow he upset his boyfriend, he guesses apologies are on the table. He carefully stepped into the bathtub to face his dripping boyfriend and wrapped his arms around the soaking man’s neck, “I’m sorry,” he pouted quite prettily, “But honey, why were you sleeping in the tub?”

“I didn’t sleep in the tub. I went to sleep in our bed, then you woke me up in the tub.” Aaron grumbled.

Spencer thought Aaron looked positively insane. His eyes focused on the older man’s pupils as his hands checked for a fever.

“Do you have a concussion?” He couldn’t help but fret about the man who is usually so well put together. He was obviously in distress though what kind of distress completely eluded the dry man. Aaron waved Spencer’s worried hands away from his face, “No. Spence, I’m telling you, I didn’t sleep in the bathtub.”

“Then how did you get here?”

Aaron shrugged and swatted Spencer’s nosy hands away that were trying to inspect the grumpy man for any injuries, “Who knows? Let’s get some breakfast.” He calmly stepped out of the tub and headed out, leaving Spencer confused (for once).

“... But it’s 5 am.”

_____

Two nights later, it happened again. But this time Spencer awoke to the sound of sobbing. His heart just about broke in two at the sight of Aaron curled in on himself in the porcelain tub, shaking and covered in sweat.

The Unit Chief used to have terrors most nights. After Foyet, all of life’s problems seemed to unravel in his dreams. The sounds and images were so vivid that upon waking up he believed he had done what he’d dreamed. That he’d hurt his family or that Foyet had come back to finish the job.

During hard cases, Aaron would forgo sleep completely, knowing his mind would only haunt him with terror beyond his conscious capabilities. It left him exhausted and agitated for the rest of the investigation. The team and LEOs got frustrated but none had the guts to confront him, except for one young agent who took special notice of his boss.

So Spencer stepped in, and after weeks of getting closer and learning more about each other than they had in the past five years of working together, Aaron digressed and accepted the help that was offered. The following three months ensued so smoothly, the therapy was helping and Aaron couldn’t believe he was sleeping full nights again. He knew it was all thanks to Spencer, who had taken up a very special place in his heart. Aaron knew that Spencer would always be there when he woke up, like an anchor. Something real to hold on to and keep him in place.

It had been a while since Aaron had such a bad episode, luckily Spencer knew just what to do and jumped right into action. Without missing a beat, the younger man climbed into the tub and sat by Aaron’s head, taking hold of one of his white-knuckled fists and gently coaxing it open by rubbing his thumbs from the palm to the back of the hand. Constant pressure, soothing, real. With one hand he threaded his fingers through the brunette’s damp hair, stroking softly at his scalp, willing his nightmare mind to latch onto the familiar touch.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” He murmured sweetly like a mantra.

Eventually Aaron’s panicked sobs dissolved into pained whimpers, his body lost some of its tension, allowing for Spencer to gently lift his boyfriend’s head into his lap and off the hard floor of the tub. The whimpers died down to light trembles and Spencer shushed him comfortingly, continuing to sooth him with gentle strokes to his head. Slowly Aaron’s eyes opened and Spencer felt the moment panic set in. The taller man’s breathing quickened and tension returned to his body, frozen in fear. God, Spencer should have turned the lights on.

“It’s just me, darling. You’re home, Aaron. This is home. You’re safe.”

Aaron trembled more, his eyes glazed over as if reliving the nightmare, “Shhh you’re safe.”

Spencer placed a feathery kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead that seemed to anchor him immediately. Tentatively, Aaron looked up at his rescuer, relieved to be in his lover's arms and away from the nightmare universe that had felt so real. He burrowed further into Spencer’s lap, wrapped his shaking arms around his boyfriend’s steady hips. He tried to focus on Spencer’s heartbeat in an attempt to regulate his own. Spencer was warm, Spencer was safe. Always safe.

“Foyet?” Spencer asked cautiously, breath fanning over the older’s forehead. Aaron stilled at the name then nodded. The younger man knows that Aaron needs to talk about it immediately, even if it’s terrifying. It allows him to discern dreams from reality, so that the events and sensations of the night terror don’t ingrain themselves into the man’s memories of reality .

“... and Scratch,” Aaron gulped, “They had Jack. I couldn’t... I didn’t know what was real. Couldn’t tell if it was really Jack. He made me hurt him. Oh god, Spence… I hurt him.” Sobs wracked the pained man’s body once again, unable to forget the horror of the dream. Spencer rocked them back and forth.

“Shh… Jack is fine, he’s at Jess’s. You would never hurt him, Aaron.”

Aaron was spent, he couldn’t muster up the energy to talk. He fell asleep once more in his partner’s comforting hold.

_____

The next morning they woke up with aching muscles from being in the bathtub for so long. Spencer couldn’t help but be worried about his boyfriend. There was definitely something going on, and though he respected Aaron’s privacy immensely, he was afraid of the older man getting into a dangerous situation. Was he sleepwalking to the bathroom? What if he tripped and hit his head on the edge of the tub? But most importantly, why were Aaron’s nightmares leading him to the bathtub?

Spencer nuzzled Aaron’s neck in an effort to wake him up a bit more. “Darling, we need to talk about this.” The worry in Spencer’s voice was audible and prompted Aaron to sit up and sigh deeply. He didn’t think this part of his life would ever come back up to the surface, he’d avoided thinking about it for decades and he didn’t know what triggered the habit to resurface. But now it’s affected Spencer, and he knew he couldn’t keep the love of his life in the dark, but some things were so hard to talk about.

Aaron found himself panicking again, flashes of Foyet and his father clouding his mind once more. Images of Sean taking cover in Aaron’s arms while their father pounds on the bathroom door-

“I know. I-” He was cut off with the sweetest kiss.

“You can take your time sweetheart. No rush.”

Even at this stage in their relationship, Aaron wasn’t used to being treated so well. The kindness that naturally radiated off his boyfriend was enough to make his insides melt, the understanding words never ceased to choke him up. But he knew Spencer would be there to put him back together once he gave him all his pieces. He buried his face in the younger’s neck, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, relaxing into his hold. Spencer wrapped his arms around Aaron’s lean form, offering a safe space. Aaron had never been this vulnerable with anyone before his relationship with Spencer.

After a moment of just holding each other, Aaron’s breathing mellowed out and his voice cracked as he explained everything.

“After Sean was born, my dad started drinking. He’d always been somewhat aggressive, scary even. He- he’d get angry and take it out on my mom… and if she wasn’t there... But when he started drinking it got a thousand times worse. I vowed to myself to protect Sean at all costs, I promised him I would never let our dad get to him. So I took the brunt of it when he was sober. But when he was drunk… he would chase us, try to get to Sean specifically. He was just a little kid 5 or 6, I was 15. He would scour the house to find Sean so I took him and locked us in the only room in the house with a lock… the bathroom. I’d carry Sean in my arms and make a run for it. I blocked off the door with a cabinet and we sat in the tub until he passed out.. My dad couldn’t get in but he would pound on the door so loudly, his voice was so angry-”

Aaron inhaled hard, the grip on the back of Spencer’s shirt tightened and his breathing shallowed. Spencer continued rubbing soothing circles on his back, allowing Aaron to take his time.

“The bathtub was the only safe space for Sean and I. We spent whole nights in there, waiting for my dad to pass out. Sometimes we’d tell stories, play games, but other times we cried and I covered his ears with my hands, not wanting him to hear the horrible things our dad was saying. This went on until I went to college, I tried to take Sean with me but my mother wouldn’t allow it. My dad died a year later, when Sean was 9.

“I- because of that, if any of us had nightmares we’d go into the bathroom and sleep in the tub, because no one could get to us in there.”

Aaron swallowed thickly and timidly looked up to the honey-haired man. Had he sounded pathetic?

But Spencer cupped his cheek once again and kissed him lovingly.

“Thank you for telling me. You’re the strongest person I know, Aaron. I'm sorry you had to go through all of that.”

Aaron’s heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through his chest. He swallowed down all his uncertainties and let Spencer in, he was proud of himself. Both of them yawned in succession, still exhausted from last night and uncomfortable from sleeping in the bathtub.

With a cheeky grin the younger man announced, “Let’s go to bed, I’ll get us the day off.” Aaron was so grateful.

While he called in sick, Spencer had an idea, and he knew just who to call.

_____

“Boy Wonder! How wonderful to hear from you on this frabjous day! We miss you and the Bossman dearly. We are definitely… working. Work is happening, and we’re doing it, and it’s getting done. You can trust me on that. Definitely no piñatas in the break room, where would we even find one on such short notice? Emily doesn’t even know where to get balloons! Anyway, what magical service may I bestow upon thee today, my little lord?”

Spencer bit back a chuckle, “Hi Penelope. Listen I need some advice on… interior decorating-”

Immediately, he got cut off by a squeal, “I’m on my way!”

“No! Garcia- after work-”

The line goes flat.

“Dammit. I should’ve just texted JJ.”

_____

Despite her best efforts, the rest of the team did not let Penelope leave the BAU for a ‘design emergency’. Fortunately for Spencer, that gave him some time to plan what he wanted to do while cooking lunch for his sleeping beauty.

After a full meal of soup and grilled cheese, Hotch retreated to the living room hoping to watch some History Channel with Spencer. They love watching the conspiracy shows together and debunking the awful propositions. Though Hotch learned quite surprisingly that Spencer is very open to the idea of aliens on Earth. However, he has a suspicion that that’s mostly wishful thinking on the part of Spencer's inner child. Nevertheless, it’s adorable and Hotch was excited for it, and waiting patiently for Spencer to finish cleaning himself up.

Before he could question what was taking so long, their doorbell rang a sweet lullabye sound (they had to change it from the awful buzzing that it was- it was too overwhelming for Spencer). Not expecting any company, Hotch was puzzled as to who could be at their door.

“Who is it?” He spoke through the intercom.

“Bossman! Sorry to hear about your incurable case of Work Sickness! If you could let me up, I brought you some warm soup!-”

Spencer bounded through the foyer from the bedroom, practically hopping over furniture and knocking down a flower arrangement, “I got it! I got it!” he heaved frantically.

“Babe, what’s Garcia doing in front of our building on a weekday?”

“Nothing Aar don’t worry about it, Penelope and I are just going out for lunch, see you later!”

Spencer grabbed his satchel and was out the door.

“But- Spencer you just had lunch!” The curly haired man was already running down the steps, “Bye!”

It was Hotch’s turn to be left alone and confused.

_____

In Penelope’s car, Spencer explained his idea to Penelope, without going saying too much about Hotch’s nightmares. In true Penelope fashion, the bubbly bits-and-bobs connoisseur knew the perfect place to get what Spencer needed. Penelope dragged Spencer around the independently-owned home goods boutique like a lost puppy for about two hours. She ended up with more bags for herself and Sergio than what Spencer needed.

A few texts and one missed call from Hotch wondering what the hell was taking Spencer so long prompted them to leave. Spencer thanked Penelope in front of their apartment and air kissed her goodbye, promising to show up at girl’s night next week..

Spencer walks into the foyer as quietly as possible and hides the bags behind the living room’s entertainment center.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah! I’m home!”

Aaron walked out of their bedroom with a soft smile. His round glasses were on, meaning he’s been reading… or looking at case files.

“Are you going through the case?” Spencer scolded.

The bespectacled man didn’t waver. “There’s something the victim’s parents said that doesn’t add up, they said that every Thursday Mandy went to soccer practice after school and swim practice in the next town over in the evenings. She takes the bus so if the unsub was stalking her he’d either have to take the same bus and risk getting caught or have a car- which goes against our age profile- so that would mean there’s someone driving him. Spencer, there are TWO unsu-” He was cut off by being pulled into a kiss. He hummed into it and wrapped his arms around Spencer’s slender waist, pulling them closer together. When they pulled apart Spencer whispered “Two unsubs. The team knows, they’re working on it. You-” he tapped his finger on the older’s chin for emphasis, “need to relax today.”

The resulting pretty pout was swiftly kissed away. None of that now.

“But I don’t know how to relax. I’m Aaron Hotchner, stoic as a statue, stern glare extraordinaire, Mr. Emotionless…”

Spencer rolled his eyes and trailed his hands down Aaron’s hard chest, “I know how to make you relax…” The other man grinned “Oh is that right?” Spencer smirked and led his boyfriend to the couch.

_____

That night when Aaron was gone to bed, Spencer quietly retrieved the bags from behind the TV and set his plan in motion.

_____

He’s trembling. And he can’t recognize his own thoughts, he can’t think straight, all he can see is his son- and Haley with terror written all over their faces.

He barely registers the sound of Jack’s wailing because, as if from right behind his ear, he hears a voice that he interprets as his own thought ‘shoot him’.

‘What?’

‘Pull the trigger’

He looks back up to his sobbing, terrified son, and without hesitation- click- BOOM-

Aaron bolted up from the bed, gasping for breath. His eyes darted around the dark. Jack? Where is he- Jack ohmygod-

His vision landed on Spencer’s sleeping form, breathing shallowly and folded into himself like a pretzel, sleeping soundly like an angel. Spencer. Real. Safe. He took a deep breath to regulate his heart. In for 4, hold, out for 6, repeat. This was exhausting.

Groggily, Aaron slipped out from under the covers and headed to the bathroom to get a drink of water and maybe splash his face a little. He thought of getting into the bathtub for the comfort he desperately needed right now, but he’d be embarrassed if Spencer found him in there again. Who does that? But nothing could have prepared Aaron for the sight before him when he opened the door.

Lights. Yellow, green, purple electric lights on strings, illuminating the room in a beautiful calming glow. They were suspended from the curtain rod of the bathtub, taped to the walls. Gorgeously scented candles perched on the sink, some on the ground, a few tea lights lining the edge of the tub. It smelled glorious and comforting and Aaron couldn’t tell what it was. Pine? Sandalwood? Campfire?

The most breath-taking part was the inside of the bathtub. Patterned sheets hung from the walls and draped over to form a delicate roof. Fluffy pillows perfectly laid out to coat every inch of the porcelain interior, and soft blankets piled on top for added comfort. Lights lined the inside of the sheet tent as well, it looked fantastical. Like something out of a book.

Aaron was floored, to say the least. Was this what Spencer had been doing today? He was flooded by a new emotion, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Spencer had done all of this for him? To make him feel safe?

He was still standing just barely in the room, taking everything in and getting emotional when he heard soft footsteps behind him and felt Spencer’s long arms slink around his waist. A chin hooked over his shoulder and a kiss was pressed to his neck.

“Are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?”

Aaron nodded, “You did all this… for me?” A tinge of awe decorated his voice.

“Yeah,” his boyfriend whispered back, “So you don’t hurt yourself when you sleep in here.”

Aaron felt stupid for ever thinking his wonderful, thoughtful boyfriend would ever feel embarrassed by him. Of course Spencer took everything he admitted seriously, of course Spencer cared about what he’s been through, Spencer cares… that's what he’s been feeling. Taken care of. Important. For once in his life, he feels like he’s allowed to let himself be loved.

The stunned man seemed to be frozen in place, not knowing how to respond. His mind was overwhelmed with love for his boyfriend. Spencer pulled away and grabbed the older’s hands, Aaron let himself be led to the makeshift fort.

They climbed in together, careful not to knock over any of the burning candles. Spencer settled on one end of the tub and pulled Aaron into him before he could even think of not cuddling with him. He made space with his legs for his boyfriend to settle between, chest pressed to back, arms wrapped around his love. Safe, warm, and comfortable in a sea of cushions like twin yolks in a shell.

Laying here, in his lover's arms, surrounded by low tranquil lights, and the gentle rise and fall of Spencer’s chest, Aaron felt as serene as he’d ever been. Spencer slid warm hands under Aaron’s shirt, bringing one up to rest cozily on his heart. Aaron turned his head and nuzzled further into Spencer’s neck, feeling the familiar tingle of the man’s touch and murmured a low hum of approval.

Spencer’s other hand, that wasn’t on Aaron’s heart, was used to tip the taller man’s chin up to look at him.

“I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind,” he cooed, “sometimes it’s impossible to take yourself out of that world. But in our home, Aaron, I want you to feel safe and protected at all times. I want you to be vulnerable and unashamed. You’re free to be everything you are in here, and I hope that you feel you can be everything you are with me, too.”

Aaron lost himself in his partner’s deep gaze, glorious hazel eyes boring into him. Completely enamored by the words spoken to him, all he could do was nod and lick his lips, trying to regulate his heart rate for a completely different reason now. Spencer had never been so… authoritative before and his sincere but stern tone sent thrilling sparks down his spine. A blush rose up his neck.

Spencer tracked the slow movement of Aaron’s tongue sliding over his bottom lip, and didn’t fight the impulse to drag his thumb over it. “You’re always safe with me.” He barely whispered before angling his head down to catch those lips in a languid kiss. Aaron sighed into it, waiting a little while before pushing himself up to fix their awkward angle. He positioned them so that Spencer was laid down flat on his back, allowing Aaron to lay between his legs once more, chest to chest. They tangled themselves in each other, lips colliding again like a match to a box, igniting a fire in the both of them.

Both were still tired from waking up in the middle of the night, but the desire coursing through their bodies was a more pressing matter. Spencer lifted his hands to frame his lover’s neck and wrapped his legs loosely around his waist, inviting Aaron to grind down onto him, both already half hard from the anticipation. Spencer groaned into Aaron’s mouth. A sound that went right to Aaron’s dick.

They explored each other’s bodies with a youthful novelty, eager to feel more skin. Never once pulling their lips apart. Aaron slipped his hands under Spencer’s shirt and shoved it up under his arms, digging his fingers into those delicious hips. Finally he broke away from the kiss to pepper the younger’s face with sweet ones. Aaron’s heart grew three sizes at Spencer’s soft giggles and let out a low laugh of his own. How ridiculous were they, making out like teenagers in a bathtub fort? Neither much cared to answer that question though, because the impatient genius bucked his hips up to meet his boyfriend’s, who was still in his boxers, let’s get those off.

Spencer eagerly reached for Aaron’s underwear and palmed at his bulge just until he heard that impatient sound from him. He pulled the man’s cock out now fully hard and dripping with precum. A groan escaped the both of them at the sight and sensation. They wasted no time in getting Spencer out of his nerdy physics flannel pajama pants, and grinded their dicks together. Lighting sparked right through the both of them, Aaron balanced himself on one arm near Spencer’s head and took both of their lengths into his right hand.

The rub of their slick cocks together was spectacular as Aaron kept a slow and steady pace, making sure to draw out all the best sounds he knew Spencer could make by nipping at his neck, where he knew the younger man was ticklish. Spencer whined at the excruciating pace, turning into a desperate whimpering mess. Making Spencer wait was so fun.

Spencer’s hands find grip in Aaron’s short hair, keeping him close, feeling the pull of Aaron's big hand on his dick and grinding up to meet him. It’s intoxicating bliss, being taken over the edge by the man he loves.

Their worlds minimized to just the slide of their cocks and the lips on their skin. The whimpering man felt the familiar build up in his abdomen, moaning freely now as he chased his orgasm, guiding Aaron’s hand with his own to feel his touch everywhere.

“Yeah baby,” Aaron encouraged, his own orgasm coming on quickly, “Cum for me baby.”

Spencer sputtered his release over both of their hands and stomachs, momentarily suspended in the intense bliss of his orgasm. He laid there spent, feeling like putty in Aaron’s hands, and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. He took his lover’s cock in hand and pumped him quickly, thumbing the head of his dick on each upstroke. Aaron came with a groan and a shudder, his arms gave out. They laid there catching their breaths for a while, ignoring the drying stickiness between them and tracing slow patterns on each other’s skin. They were so lucky to have each other.

“How are we going to shower now?” Aaron looked up and pouted.

“There’s a perfectly good sink just 5 feet away.” They laughed, Aaron pulled a blanket over them.

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

Taglist: @foxtrot91 @physics-magic @ssa-sarahsunshine @hearteyedhotch

#hotchreid #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x aaron hotchner #spencer reid fic #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds fic #my fic #bathtub au

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twofrontteethstillcrooked · 3 years

Text

3 Oct. Suptober: Rainbows

With his finger, Dean traced the outline of one of the rainbows arced on Cas's knee. "Is it weird that rainbows remind me of you?"

s15 au; deancas

In hindsight, Cas was preoccupied, not only by the task at hand but by the person he was undertaking it on behalf of, which was likely why he didn't realize he had company in the bunker kitchen until Sam said, "Hey, Cas," and Cas almost fumbled the glass into the sink.

"Oof, sorry," Sam rushed to say next.

His expression was a variety of things, none of which Cas clocked as fundamentally apologetic while he refilled the glass.

Sam cleared his throat. "Whatcha doing?"

Cas squinted at him. Maybe Sam was drunk, or ill. "Just getting a drink of water." He left the statement there; Sam had seen him consume water before.

Sam fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt and did not look at Cas. "Sure. You." He made some kind of gesture with his hands that did not seem relevant to anything. "You seen Dean lately?"

"He's asleep," Cas offered, since he knew it to be correct.

"In his room?" Sam's voice cracked on the second word.

Cas drew out the word 'yes' into something of a question. What was Sam looking at on the ceiling anyway?

"His room. Which. You just left?" Sam bounced on the balls of his feet for a second.

Cas looked around for intruders, hex bags, strange fogs, spooky auras, blood stains, a bucket of empty beer cans -- something that might explain why Sam was speaking like someone who'd just learned English.

"Yes, Dean's room."

Cas suppressed a smile that wanted to surface as his thoughts quickly flitted to Dean -- Dean curled boneless beneath a body-warmed blanket, his eyelashes fanned dark against the tops of his freckled cheeks -- and back again. He sat the glass in the sink and stepped toward Sam carefully.

"Uh huh. Okay." Sam took a step backwards. His line of sight popped back up to the light fixture. "Wearing. ...What it is you're wearing?

Cas glanced down past his bare chest to the flannel covering his legs. "Pajamas?"

Sam nodded a series of tight little nods, like an invisible puppeteer controlling him was getting restless. "Okay. Okay. And Dean is." He didn't trail off as much as seem to run out of ideas for the rest of the sentence.

"Asleep," Cas reminded him.

Another Sam nod. "Right."

"He tends to fall asleep for a while within thirty or so minutes after we--"

"Dude," Sam said.

Understanding clicked into place. "Ah. I apologize, Sam," Cas said, with a small sinking sensation in his stomach. "I did assume Dean had told you."

He was leaving out some words, and he didn't mean to play coy; it just seemed like perhaps Sam would prefer fewer details over more with regards to -- how to say diplomatically? -- recent developments.

"Dean tell me? Really?" Sam stared at him directly for the first time the whole encounter. His pupils were big black dots reminiscent of the ones he'd had when they were all cartoons for a while.

"No." Cas paused. "But I did think maybe you just knew."

An honest confession, since Sam, a skilled hunter with decades of experience beneath his proverbial belt, was often quite good at discerning patterns beneath the surface of verbal communication. Cas had not always been as certain of his own feelings as he was in the present. Indeed, it had taken years for what he felt for Dean -- unfamiliar, prismatic impulses occasionally strong enough to almost bring Cas to his knees -- to coagulate into something fierce and unshakeable that could in part be described in words, much less translatable to more tangible actions. Just because Cas had been slow to realize the depths of his own emotions didn't mean Sam had been.

Except.

Sam's eyebrows jumped into his hairline like worms fleeing chicken beaks.

"What," he choked out. "Why. No. How would I have known about--" He was flinging his hands around again. "--This?" The hands flew toward Cas like Sam was casting a spell at him. "You are like my brother."

"Um," Cas said.

"And Dean is my brother."

"Uh--"

"And I have literally heard him refer to you as our brother."

"Right.”

"Like, we're all brothers here." Sam gave a helpless chuff of laughter.

"Okay."

"So you understand," Sam continued, "why I might be concerned that my two brothers are apparently sleeping together." The volume of his voice went lower in direct counter to its pitch by the end of the sentence.

Cas chose not to comment on this, nor on the shadow that lurked in the doorway and then dissipated. He said instead, "I don't really sleep all that much, but I take your point."

Sam buried his face in the palms of his hands.

"I'm." Cas swallowed. He stood a bit taller, the way a soldier might when either respectfully yielding to an enemy or accepting that opponent's surrender -- not that Sam was a villain here. "I'm sorry you found out this way, Sam."

"It's." Sam took a deep breath, then coughed once. "You don't have to apologize."

"Sam, could you... There is nothing on the ceiling that could be that interesting."

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Sam spoke like he meant it, or at least wanted to mean it.

Cas let out an inward sigh of relief. "All right."

"The stress," Sam said. "What we do. Monsters. Apocalypses, plural. It's-- I know it's a lot." Now he had slipped into hunter wrangler mode, all rallying the troops and leftover law school pragmatism. "And I can see how the two of you might, you know, need to blow off some steam. Sometimes."

"Sam--"

"Dean always does get a little antsy when he goes a while without." Sam shook his head like he'd realized this was absolutely not a topic he wanted to think about. "You know."

"Sam," Cas said sharply.

"I'll stop talking now."

"I'm in love with your brother, Sam." Those truest words were spoken so easily that once upon a time it might have bothered Cas; in the present, it assuredly did not. He let Sam gape for a moment and then softened the statement with, "It's not just a casual, friends with insurance sort of thing for me. For the record. If that helps."

Sam looked like the human equivalent of the little tri-colored beachball that would spin and spin onscreen when one of his computer tablets got overwhelmed. Finally, his eyes cleared. "All right." His mouth quirked. "The phrase is 'friends with benefits.'"

Cas blinked. "Insurance is often a benefit extended to citizens in the United States, isn't it?"

"Less often than's helpful," Sam said.

Cas nodded. The two of them stood there by the sink, not really looking at each other. A thought came to Cas.

"I love you too--"

"Dude," Sam said.

Cas held up a hand. "--But I'm not in love with you." This distinction was one that had taken him a long time to understand; it seemed worth sharing.

The ceiling had recaptured Sam's fascination, but he was smiling when he said, "I know." He clapped Cas on the shoulder. "I love you too."

Cas returned the smile. "You, and Dean, and Jack -- you are all my family."

"Yeah." Sam ducked his head, as if pleased. "Yeah, I know."

Cas picked the glass of water up out of the sink. He raised it to Sam in a small toast. "Okay. I'm going to go back to Dean's room now."

"'Night, Cas."

Cas padded back down the hallway, opened Dean's squeaky door, and crept inside the room. The bedside lamp had been turned on. He watched the blanketed lump in the middle of the mattress for movement before asking quietly, "How much of that did you hear?"

"Most of it." Dean sat up and yawned. He scratched at the side of his head where his hair was sticking out. The blanket puddled below his pelvis. Cas glanced away like he hadn't personally and enthusiastically pressed those hipbones into the mattress less than an hour before.

When Cas walked around and put a knee on the bed, Dean said, "I also wanted water."

Cas bumped his arm with the glass. "This is for you."

"Oh," Dean said, taking it from him. "Thanks."

"Because I don't drink all that much water."

"Right."

"Because I don't sweat as much as you do."

"Hmm. You sweat some," Dean said, a hint of slyness in his tone. He leaned away to leave the water glass on the bedside table.

Cas sat on the edge of the mattress and let Dean scoot up to him. "Are you bragging about making me sweat?"

"Mmm," Dean said, splaying his hand over Cas's clavicle.

"You should probably talk to Sam in the morning."

"This is the morning."

"Later, then."

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas's waist like he owned the span of it. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

"Maybe you could just--

"Nooo."

A sharpness tapped underneath Cas's ribcage, an angel blade's point pressed with deliberate aim. It took a minute before he could speak. He gathered his courage. "If you want to stop--"

"No." The word fell from Dean like Cas had knocked it out with his fist. His eyes were fever bright and anguished, and another, better ache flooded Cas's chest at the sight. "No."

"I am very much in love with you." Cas took a breath. "Sam's reaction, I know, wasn't entirely out of nowhere."

Dean tipped his forehead to Cas's. "I don't think he was objecting so much as he was surprised--"

"I'm only saying, I have thought of you both as my brothers, at various times in the past." Cas studied, not for the first time, a collection of freckles on Dean's shoulder. "I still think of Sam as a brother, in a way. He may not be incorrect that the situation, as it has evolved, is something a bit… Atypical." He considered a further implication. "And each of us is one of Jack's dads."

Dean huffed, a bluff since his fingertips were memorizing Cas's vertebrae like he planned to sketch them later. "Well. We can't all be the goddamn Waltons, or whoever."

Cas agreed, "We definitely do not live on a farm." He let himself sway toward the ardent way Dean was looking at him. "It might be nice to live on a farm, with cows and ducks, maybe some sheep--"

"And I am very much in love with you too," Dean said softly. He pressed his lips to Cas's cheek.

"Yeah?" Cas's eyes felt hot.

"Yep."

Cas thought to say, "You know, Sam is exactly who you raised him to be: a good man."

At that, Dean squeezed his eyes shut. "New rule," he said hoarsely after several seconds. He wiped his eyes and shook his head. "We cannot talk about Sam, like. When we're not even dressed."

Cas stretched out his right leg and wiggled his foot. "I have on these pajamas pants. Can no-one else see them? They're covered in so many things."

This was an understatement. Technically, the pattern contained no less than the following items: rainbows, unicorns, blue whales, yellow stars, shield-wielding pugs, and anti-whale flags, whatever and why-ever those were. Put simply, the pajama pattern was like an indecipherable code of images that seemed to illustrate the illicit drug use of the manufacturer's designer.

With his finger, Dean traced the outline of one of the rainbows arced on Cas's knee. "Is it weird that rainbows remind me of you?"

Cas thumbed a spot on Dean's throat, his mouth going dry with the desire to taste the pulse fluttering there. "In my celestial wavelength form, I suppose I would be more closely related to a visually-deducible electromagnetic wave than I would be a pug riding a whale into glorious battle."

"These pajamas are a work of art," Dean contended, kissing Cas's temple. "Hmm."

"What?"

"I guess that story about God -- Chuck -- using a rainbow to seal a promise about never again destroying earth with a flood is just apocrypha, huh?"

Cas thought about it. "Yes. Unfortunately." He tried not to sigh. "Sometimes I have to remind myself Chuck created some beautiful wonders despite...being who he is."

"Yeah. Going out after a hard rain and seeing a rainbow's colors arching through the clouds -- still seems hopeful." Dean started pulling Cas down beside him on the mattress. "Maybe that's what reminds me of you."

Unable to speak, Cas tucked his face into Dean's throat.

Dean's fingers were slipping beneath the waistband of the pajamas, ever so slowly. "Anyway, these are mine." Cas hummed an affirmative. "I would like them back," Dean said.

"Now?" Cas heard himself gasp.

Dean pressed him onto his back to nose his way down the line of Cas's breastbone, his warm breath teasing over cooled skin and coaxing out a shiver Cas felt splintering through his whole body.

"I would settle for you just not having them on at the moment," Dean said, using both hands to reclaim his property, and before raising up to kiss anything Cas might have wanted to say in response entirely out of his mouth.

#spn #suptober21 #fic #deancas #suptober #destiel

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julia-highstorms · 2 years

Text

Sick Day (Bryce x Rei (F!MC))

Author’s note: This takes place sometime during Book 1. Just a bit of Bryce and Rei fluff 💕 This piece is something that I started writing when the gang was on their intern year, but I just finished it this year and I forgot to post it 😅 but this fits in with Day 14 - Nursing from @choicesnovchallenge2021, I guess? So here it finally is lsmfosnaak

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, not me.

Rating: PG-16

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Rei Sato (F!MC) - Read more about them here

Word count: +3.1K

_______________________

The inevitable happened: Rei had the flu. A strong one per say.

The amount of people the young medical intern had treated the past few days with sinusitis, faringitis, laringitis, all the “itis” and flu, plus all that stress from the competition for a place in the Diagnostics Team, it was quite predictable that she would end up getting sick sooner or later.

She was feeling so bad - coughing, sneezing, feverish and tired, body aching everywhere - that she even got two whole days to rest at home.

“I’m sure it’s just a cold—” - she tried to argue, but Dr. Ramsey firmly shook his head.

“Rookie, I don’t want you getting worse and compromising the patients’ health; they’re already sick, they don’t need their doctor to be worsening their cases.” - he stated as he gave her the medical leave himself. Clearly, there was no space for 'buts'.

So, Rei Sato found herself still feeling cold, even though she was buried beneath several blankets, in her bed the next day. Sienna made sure that she was feeling comfortable before all of her roommates left the apartment for work. Rei took her prescribed medicines and slept the whole day only waking up to go to the bathroom. She was pretty sure that resting all day and having a good night sleep would make her feel brand new the following day.

But by the time her friends came back home after their long shifts, that wasn’t the case.

“You’re still burning.” - Jackie stated. - “And your cough has worsened. Did you take the pills Dr. Ramsey prescribed correctly?”

“Of course I did.” - Rei muttered annoyedly, her voice hoarse. - “I’m sure I’ll be better tomorrow—”

“We can’t leave her alone.” - Sienna told the others as she entered Rei’s room, carrying a chicken soup she had made herself and handing it to her friend.

“I believe Rei will get better on her own—”

“Yeah, but how? We all have to work tomorrow.” - Jackie completely ignored Landry and asked Sienna, who was helping the sick girl to not spill her dinner on her bed and on herself.

“Hmm, hold on, guys. I know someone who can help!” - Elijah said, wheeling out of the room, his phone in hand.

Rei fell back asleep right after she had finished her dinner, having no idea about who Elijah was talking about.

_______________________

The young intern was having a nightmare, dreaming about her patients being left alone, the other medical interns sabotaging her, Dr. Ramsey’s cold blue eyes staring disappointedly at her…

When she felt a big, warm and gentle hand on her forehead. She blinked a few times, waking up as she recognised the smiling face of the hand’s owner. That smirk.

“Bryce?” - her voice pitched in surprise, sitting up immediately.

The young woman blinked a few times to be sure she wasn't hallucinating due to fever. She wasn't. Bryce was really there.

“How one of the best medical interns of Edenbrook Hospital could get sick from one of her patients?” - he asked mockingly, his smile playing on his lips. Rei was hot because of the fever, but she knew that the sudden heat on her cheeks was because of an entirely different reason. He frowned momentarily. - “Are you cold? You’re shivering.” - he grabbed the cardigan hanging up on her chair and put it around her shoulders.

“What about work?” - she finally managed to ask him.

“Today’s my day off. Elijah called me last night asking me if I could come and take care of you.” - he smiled sweetly at her, stroking her cheek. She averted her eyes, too embarrassed to stare back at him. - “Anyway, how are you feeling?” - he took the receipt, carefully reading all the prescribed medicines she had to take. At least she wasn't with an infection.

“Like I was hit by a truck. I slept all day yesterday, took my remedies, but I still feel so tired and sore.”

“That’s because I wasn’t here.” - he sat down on the edge of her bed, that super sexy (and sometimes annoying) smirk on his face. - “I’m an amazing surgeon, but I’m also a great nurse.”

Rei rolled her eyes, already used to Bryce’s inflated ego.

“You better be, because I have to be back to work tomorrow--”

He shook his head, his smirk still playing on his lips.

“That’s the problem, Rei. You absolutely must not worry about work right now. You have to think about yourself and get better first. Plus, your friends and the other medical interns are there. They might not be the number one, but they’re very capable professionals and your patients will be fine under their care.” - she knew he was right, but she couldn’t help herself. The young surgeon stood up. - "Now, it's almost lunch time, I guess Sienna left a prepared meal for you. I'll heat it up and be right back!"

With her back resting against the headboard of her bed, Rei watched as the man strode outside her room, a lazy smile growing on her lips. Minutes later, Bryce was back in her room, carrying a tray with a homemade porridge on it.

"Voilá! One hot porridge to our lovely patient. Careful, it's hot."

"Thank you." - Rei smiled to herself as he carefully handed it to her. She took a small spoonful of it and the food seemed to melt on her tongue. It was delicious. - "Sienna really is a great cook."

Bryce sat down on her chair, just beside her desk, smiling as Rei savoured her lunch with her eyes closed, a gleeful expression lighting up her face. When she opened her eyes again, she saw him gazing at her.

"What?" - she felt her cheeks tingling with embarrassment.

"Nothing. You just looked so happy for a moment. If you look this happy with food, then maybe I should learn how to cook."

Her cheeks grew pinker again to his flirting and he chuckled.

"Uh, have you eaten yet?"

"Yeah, I ate just before coming here." - she nodded and resumed eating.

"And… how are you? It feels like weeks since I last saw you…" - they would often bump into each other down the hospital corridors, Bryce teasingly shooting her a wink whenever they saw each other.

"Well, you know how it's like to be the number one intern of your year." - he shrugged, with a proud smile. - "I've been good, Dr. Tanaka has been asking me to participate in more surgeries, which are more complex."

"That's good!"

"Yeah, it's been good to put my skills to test."

The young surgeon proceeded on talking about his latest surgery. Rei finished her meal and listened to him patiently, noticing how his brown eyes seemed to shine as he gestured excitedly.

It felt good to just spend some time together, talking and enjoying each other's company, with no one else around. She missed seeing him more often.

Eventually, sleepiness started to cloud her mind, which Bryce noticed.

“I talked too much. You should go to sleep, Rei." - he chuckled, taking the tray off of her lap. - "If you need me, I'll be in the living room. I’ll leave the door open so I can check on you without startling you—” - but before he could leave the bedroom, she grabbed him by the hem of his sweater.

“If it's okay with you… I-I’d prefer it if you stayed here.” - she murmured, fidgeting her hands, her cheeks flushed. - “Unless you’re going to do something that has to be done in the living room--”

“Nah, I was only going to read a book… but are you sure? Won’t the light distract you?” - she shook her head.

“I can sleep. Just…” - her face turned another shade redder. - “...stay with me, okay?”

“You’re so adorable, Rei.” - he smiled at her. - “Okay, I’ll stay here. I'll just take this to the kitchen."

He left her bedroom quickly. She heard him washing the dishes and the surgical intern soon was back, a book in his hand.

"I'm back. Now, try to get some rest, okay?”

She nodded and watched Bryce sitting down onto her chair again. The medical intern curled up in her bed like she always did before falling asleep and closed her eyes.

Somehow, Rei felt like she could finally rest knowing that Bryce was close and there to take care of her. She could feel his presence nearby, the fragrance of his aftershave and cologne, the relaxing sound of his breath.

And then, her mind slowly drifted off to a deep sleep.

_______________________

A couple of hours later, she suddenly sat up, taking the layers and layers of blankets off of her bed.

“Hey, hey, calm down!” - Bryce said in exasperation, standing up from his seat and putting his book away, as Rei pulled out her sweater.

“I’m hot.” - her voice sounded muffled as she undressed herself.

“It’s because the fever is going low. That's good. But you can’t stay there naked, Sato.” - he chuckled.

“Uh, but I’m all sweaty!” - the surgical intern laughed again, amused to see Rei Sato pouting and whining. She usually was so guarded and reserved, even in front of him. She suddenly got out of bed. - “I’m taking a bath.” - but the movement was too quick and she felt lightheaded. Luckily he was right there and held her, one strong arm circling around her waist.

“Rei, you aren’t 100% fine yet, you have to take things slower, okay?” - she sat back down on the bed, waiting for the dizziness to wear off. - “Why don’t you pick up a change of clothes while I fill the bathtub?”

“Okay…”

A few minutes later, just as Bryce closed the bath tap, Rei entered the bathroom and put her clean clothes aside.

“Done.” - he announced, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and dried his hands with a soft towel. - "Feeling better?"

“Yeah, thank you."

"May I help you?" - he gestured to the top of her pajamas.

"Uh? Sure…" - she nodded, feeling a heat ascending to her neck and cheeks again as Bryce approached and started unbuttoning it.

Rei's heart beat louder each time his hands moved to the next button… until, finally she gently put a hand over his. He stopped right away and glanced up back at her face, which was as red as a tomato.

“Actually… let me do it myself." - she murmured.

"Right, sure." - he nodded and stepped away. - "Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

"No, that's not it…" - she just couldn't tell Bryce that she was near to having a heart attack by watching him undressing her. It would be too humiliating. But still, her heart felt like a sledgehammer. - "Uh, could you turn around?” - she asked, unable to look at his face. Bryce blinked a few times in confusion.

“What?”

“I said, turn around.” - she repeated herself, her cheeks growing even more redder, if that was possible. Realization fell upon him.

“There’s nothing there that I haven’t already seen, Rei—” - he shut his mouth when she finally turned to face him, her eyes shooting daggers. He raised his hands in surrender and took a couple of safe steps back. - “Sorry. I’m turning.” - he chuckled to himself. She was so stubborn, but that was one of the things that he liked the most about her.

With his back finally turned to her, Rei quickly undressed herself from her clothes and entered the bathtub.

“It’s okay now…” - she murmured, her arms covering her breasts. She knew it was stupid; like Bryce said, he had already seen her completely naked a few times by now, but she couldn’t help herself and still felt shy about it. He kneeled beside the bathtub.

"Is the water good? Too hot? Too cold?”

“It’s perfect.” - she ducked her head a bit. - "I know it was a bit stupid getting all fret… but I get a bit shy sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" - his smirk made the medical intern roll her eyes. - "No need to explain yourself, Rei. Plus, when you act all shy, it just makes me want you more." - he watched with a satisfied smile as she blushed hard.

Unable to say anything, she just started cleaning herself with the soap bar.

"Anyway… Thank you, Bryce."

"No need to thank me. I told you, I'm here to take care of you and because I want to. In fact, let me help you." - he said, gently taking the soap from her and rubbing it against her back. Rei sighed, relaxing against his touch. - "How does this feel?"

"It feels amazing…"

“I told you, didn't I? These hands aren’t made just for surgeries, you know.” - she rolled her eyes again before chuckling softly. Bryce smiled to himself.

Good, she seemed to be getting better. At least, she was back to laughing at whatever thing he said.

Rei closed her eyes, enjoying the scalpel jockey's help, a low appreciative moan escaping her lips… Suddenly, she gasped when she felt his lips on her bare shoulders and shuddered as they travelled up to her neck and found a spot behind her ear.

"Bryce!" - she yelped at him, who just smiled unapologetically to her.

"Sorry, Rei, but when you make that sound… and look like this in front of me… and we're all alone..." - she blushed harder. - "Well, I couldn't contain myself. But I promise I'll behave from now on. Sorry."

She nodded, still feeling her skin tingling where his lips touched. But a small smile surged on the corner of her mouth.

A bit later, she got out of the bathtub, and allowed him to help her dress up again, still blushing a little, obviously. Old habits die hard.

"Fresh and clean." - he grinned when she was finally fully dressed. - "How are you feeling? After a nice long nap and a relaxing bath?"

“Hmmm… I’m hungry.”

“Gosh, so demanding.” - but Bryce Lahela liked it. - “I’m kidding. That’s a great sign, you’re getting better. What do you want to eat?”

“Hmm… ramen.” - memories of all the times she or Tom got sick and her grandma would cook them that dish floated back into her mind.

“Alright.” - Bryce fished his phone, searching for the food delivery app.

Half an hour later, they were both sitting by the dinner table, savouring the hot dish.

“How is it?”

“It’s heavenly. I was starving.”

“It makes sense; Sienna told me you were barely eating the past days because of the flu.”

They both ate their food calmly, enjoying each other’s company. Rei even taught Bryce how to ‘properly eat ramen’.

“You have to slurp it all! Making noise and stuff. Like this.” - she slurped noisily, making him laugh. - “This means that you appreciated the food and that it was delicious.”

“Well, I don’t know why, but this was sexy. When you slurped that noodle in one go.”

“Shut up!” - he laughed louder.

While Bryce washed the dishes, Rei plopped down onto the sofa and turned the TV on, mindlessly zapping through the channels. She later decided to put on her favorite show on Netflix.

He soon joined her, sitting down next to her, one arm falling comfortably around her hips as he pulled her closer with a smile playing on his lips.

"Cosy." - he murmured, before they both fell in a comfortable silence for the next couple of hours, binge watching The Crown and the Flame.

______________________

Rei slowly opened her eyes and yawned lazily. She looked over to the window trying to make sense of the time. The sky was dark outside.

"You okay?" - she heard a welcoming voice coming from the other side of her room, her eyes instantly finding Bryce on her desk, reading his book. She smiled sleepily at him.

“Yes. Although I thought… I was in the living room."

"Yeah, you fell asleep in the middle of the third episode." - the surgical intern stood up and sat down on her bed, next to her. - "So I brought you back here. You didn't even wake up." - he chuckled.

"What? Like, carried me all the way here?"

He frowned.

"C'mon Rei, I'm not like Superman Raf, but I will carry you wherever whatever." - his eyes glimmered as a cocky smirk curled up his mouth. - “You should go back to sleep.” - he murmured, his long fingers stroking her cheek affectionately. Rei took it on her own and kissed the inside of his wrist, which sent a delicious shiver up his spine. She smiled sheepishly at him.

"Thank you, Bryce."

And then, she drifted back to sleep, much more serene than the days before.

______________________

The next day, Rei woke up feeling brand new. She was at the locker room and had just finished putting her scrubs on when Bryce strode in, grinning when he saw the medical intern there.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah!” - Rei pumped the air, feeling happy and energized, before quickly ducking her head. - “I mean, uh, thank you again about yesterday, Bryce. It was your only day off of the week and you had to spend it by taking care of me…”

“Don’t worry, Rei. I will always be happy to spend my free time with you. Although I’d have enjoyed it more if you weren’t cold and we could have done something more fun…” - her cheeks flushed to the sly wink he gave her. - “You know, whenever you need me, I’m just a text away.”

“Yeah… thank you. I feel like I own you one.” - she worked up the courage to say the next words: - “So, uh, what do you say we grab dinner together? Whenever you can.”

“I’d like that.” - his smirk widened, brightly, and Rei felt her heartbeat speeding up like it always did whenever he smiled at her. He was so handsome. And she was so smitten. - “But you know, I wouldn’t mind a ‘thank you’ kiss.” - he added with a wink.

She rolled her eyes before leaning in, her hand on the scalpel jockey’s jaw, angling him face down to meet hers. Bryce corresponded with eagerness, kissing her back demandingly, his strong arms circling around her waist, pulling her closer until she was pressed tightly against his broad chest, as if he already knew that her knees always turned into jelly whenever he kissed her.

Rei felt her body heat going high, although she wasn't feverish anymore, when Bryce deepened the kiss, groaning with need against her mouth.

“Uh, we should go to work before someone catches us in here…” - she murmured when they finally leaned out, after that breathless kiss.

“Yeah, you’re right.” - he agreed, his arms still around her.

And then, suddenly, he pulled away, almost shoving Rei.

“...A-achooo!” - he sneezed loudly. - “Oh crap. I guess I got your cold, Rei.” - the internal medicine intern giggled. - “Hey, this isn’t funny!”

“Sorry, Bryce. But don’t worry, whenever you get sick, I’ll take care of you too.”

_______________________

Tag: @nyastarlight @endlessflame @awkwardalbatros @choicesarehard @strangelycami @stillafictosexual @queen-kass-the-writer @indiacater @worldofchoices9-blog @radlovedreamer @fairydustandsarcasm @choicesthot @blackreddish @fluffywhitehair @weavingfractals @eileendannie @hellooliviaolivia @lahelable @bucket-harrington @god-save-the-keen @choices97 @allthatglitters2020 @thequeenofpixels @hellomynameisdevi @dreaming-of-movies @maria-lahela @zodiacsign1 @omgjasminesimone @miss-raleigh-carrera @lahellacute @brycesgirl @raleighcarrera @simsvetements @wolverinesbeer @virtuallytakenby @anotherbeingsworld @teenytinytanya08 @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl @sitsoncornflake @jamesashtonisbae @cashweasel @kelseaaa @eleanorbloom @freckles-spangledvampire @choicesficwriterscreations (if you would like to be tagged in (or out of!) upcoming Bryce x MC fanfics/fanarts, please let me know!)

#bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #open heart #playchoices #choices stories you play #open heart fanfiction #open heart fanfic #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #choices fanfiction #playchoices fanfiction #bryce x mc #rei sato #bryce x rei #choicesnovember2021

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milenadaniels · 3 years

Text

Carve It Into Stone, 1574 words - Buck/Eddie + Chris, Sleepy Sickfic

(AO3 link)

Caught in the rhythm of routine, Eddie remembers a few moments too late that he’s meant to be entering quietly when he gets home from work. Or: a self-indulgent Buck and Chris napping together fic because of this post.

Caught in the rhythm of routine, Eddie remembers a few moments too late that he’s meant to be entering quietly when he gets home from work. The deadlock has already been turned but, wincing, he slides his key back out gently and palms the doorknob deliberately to prevent the familiar squeaks from reverberating through the house.

Once inside, he guides his duffel bag to the floor, not letting the strap clatter down as he usually would, and takes care as he bends down to unlace his boots and toe them off before padding into the living room, following the low sounds of the television.

On Thursday, Abuela asked for help figuring out the new tax software she wanted to use this year — it was very user friendly but she was very much in her 80s — and instead of subjecting Christopher to an entire afternoon and evening of boredom, Eddie asked Buck to pick him up from school and hang out until he could join them. He hadn’t known at the time that Christopher was sent home with a note saying he’d been sniffly and should be kept home until he felt better: new protocols in the mid/post-COVID-19 world.

Buck immediately got him a rapid test for COVID-19 and it was ruled out, and it didn’t present like a flu, it was just a hell of a cold. Mild fever, runny nose, body aches — the works. And Buck, who had been exposed for hours at its peak transmission period, did not escape it. Which made it handy when Eddie needed a sitter on Friday and Buck naturally had to call in sick himself.

Buck was sending him text updates all throughout his shift but they stopped suddenly a couple hours ago, so Eddie is not at all surprised to find them both out for the count.

Still, he’s not prepared to take in the sight of Buck stretched on his back, somehow fitting his 6’2 frame between each arm rest, and Christopher tucked snugly along his side, more on top of him than in the wedge between Buck’s body and the back of the couch. One of Buck’s hands is curled up by his face, while his other arm is holding Christopher to him as if there was a risk of falling. Christopher’s arm is tucked into his chest, and his head is resting against Buck’s collarbone, nearly tucked right under his chin and Eddie…

Eddie pauses.

He pauses and grapples with this picture of strength and fragility juxtaposed and blended together. Buck, built for strength and power, tenderly cradling his young son. Both of them unstoppable forces of energy and unrestrained joy, both cast down together by germs they just have to weather.

Both of them here, recovering together, safe under Eddie’s roof, under Eddie’s watch now.

He feels suddenly like he’s walked blindly into a moment in the course of his life whose significance he can’t yet pinpoint and he thinks if he just stays here, quiet, still, he might be able to reach out and understand it.

Christopher’s glasses are on the table nestled between a tissue box and two empty glasses of water, indicating one of them knew they were headed towards an extended nap before they settled in and somehow that detail tugs at his heart fiercely. To imagine Buck watching Christopher get sleepier and sleepier, carding his fingers through his curls fondly, and gently lifting his glasses off to make him more comfortable. Was he already settled against Buck by then? Or were they sitting upright until Buck started to lose his own battle with fatigue and rearranged them like this? Indulging both their need for cuddles when they’re feeling low?

It doesn’t matter, but Eddie wishes fiercely that he knew.

They’re both breathing easily enough, like most of the congestion has lifted, though he can tell by the amount of crumpled up tissues that missed the trash can Buck must have brought into the living room that they had a hell of a day with it. Their cheeks are a little flushed with fever still, and Eddie wants to check but doesn’t dare touch them for fear of disturbing them.

Instead, he takes in their pale skin, their dark curls, and their unguarded faces in sleep and marvels for the hundredth time at how improbable it is that they could look so alike and how strangely happy he is about it. By now he’s used to the guilt that accompanies this thought, and as always, spares a thought to Shannon, but then he lets himself linger on it like he doesn’t usually have the luxury of doing.

Usually their similarities strike him at the worst times: when he turns around in line to catch them making faces and laughing at being caught, and Eddie has to pretend to be grumpy and turn back around to play into their game; when they’re ordering ice cream and Eddie asks for strawberry and they both turn to look at him with identical expression of disappointment because fruit isn’t a treat even if it’s fake fruit; when he has to take a call from Carla as they’re walking into the museum and catches up to Buck and Chris just in time to hear the ticket taker say “you and your dad have fun!” because she has eyes and anyone on Earth would have assumed the same. These are moments Eddie has to let lie and move on from quickly. Moments he only gets to revisit when he’s laying in bed at night, trying to conjure up the visuals exactly as they were to reproduce the tightening in his chest he keeps experiencing, but failing every time.

But now, here, he can linger.

No, he can do more than linger.

Moving slowly as if any sudden movement could break this tranquility, Eddie slips his phone out of his pocket and double-taps the power button to bring up the camera.

He takes a single, wide-view shot of the whole couch, and admires it for a moment.

Then he zooms in on their sleeping faces and takes two more.

Three new pictures to add to the overflowing folder of pictures that will never go on Instagram.

He quickly sends Carla the wide-view shot because he feels the need to share what he’s come home to and she’s the only safe option. The only one who won’t read more into it than Eddie’s comfortable addressing.

Though if Eddie’s being truthful, he knows she’s just the only one who’ll keep it to herself until he’s ready to hear it.

Carla sends back three red hearts, and Eddie can’t help but agree.

He slips his phone back into his pocket and makes room to sit on the coffee table.

Buck’s hand is right there, open, palm facing up, waiting.

Eddie reaches for his shoulder instead, though he slips up and instead of jostling him gently like he meant to, his hand curves around his shoulder and his thumb glides back and forth against his shirt until Buck is snuffling and blinking awake.

“Hey,” Eddie says, smiling when Buck remains half-asleep, his body as relaxed as it was in sleep.

“Hey,” he croaks, gently clearing his throat and casting a nervous eye to Christopher who makes nothing of the disturbance.

“How are you feeling?”

Buck seems to mentally assess himself. “Fine, just crazy tired. Our little man here was a trooper, but he conked out a couple hours ago. Aw, shi--oot,” he looks at the television, “I was supposed to pause it when he fell asleep. I don’t remember which episode we were on.”

Eddie smiles. “He probably won’t even remember the episodes you did watch. You can start over when you’re both back on your feet.”

“Mm,” Buck hums, his eyelids already growing heavier again. “‘K.”

Eddie watches sleep take over Buck, until those tired lids are pried apart suddenly with mild alarm.

“D’you want m’to put him to bed?” Buck slurs. “Be more comfortable?”

Eddie shakes his head with a fond smile. “He’s just fine where he is.”

Buck’s eyes grow vulnerable in a way he’s been trying to hide lately when he’s in full control of his faculties, and the corner of his lips tugs up into a shy smile.

“Go back to sleep,” Eddie says, his voice pitched low to be soothing.

Buck obeys and within a couple of minutes his face is slack and peaceful, his breathing evened out, but some stray impulse shifts his hand away from his face and off the couch entirely to hang in the space between them.

Can Eddie really be faulted then for taking it in his hands and holding on for just a second — feeling the slight heat from the fever seep into his skin, feeling the curl of mildly calloused fingers against his, feeling the weight of it between his palms and deciding that he likes it, a lot?

He guides Buck’s hand back to its original resting place and doesn’t give in when his fingers want to explore the ungelled curls resting against his forehead.

He lingers, again, just one more time, and lets the knowledge that Carla’s talk will likely be coming sooner rather than later wash over him.

And by the way he only barely makes it to the kitchen before thumbing open his gallery and reviewing the three pictures he took, he figures he may just be ready for it.

#buddie #buddie fics #christopher diaz #buddipher #buddie and chris #my fics

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giggles-and-freckles · 3 years

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SO EXCITED you’re taking whump prompts ahhh!! Maybe a damp towel against flushed, feverish skin or being picked up?

I am sorry, people–I know that you didn’t sign up for full-length one-shots when you opted for “PROMPTS,” but...how am I supposed to just stop writing Baby Ahsoka and Padawan Obi-Wan?

Obi-Wan sat up with a start, snapping his head around the room. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but hour six of staring at the same ridiculous texts of ancient Jedi prophecies had pushed him over the edge. He only hoped Qui-Gon would remember that the mindless research was on his request when Obi-Wan passed out in the training room tomorrow.

Ah-choo!

Obi-Wan’s gaze flickered quickly around the room again. He knew he heard something that time. But every corner of the room aside from his small desk was pitch dark. The archives had long been abandoned by every sane being hours ago. So where did that sound–

His attention was ripped behind him at the sound of a small, broken cough.

“What on–,” Obi-Wan shook his head, blinking. ”Er, hello.”

Big blue eyes widened in response. “Um.”

Obi-Wan quirked a suspicious eyebrow. “It’s a little late for younglings to be digging through the archives.”

“You’re not even that much older than me,” the tiny Togruta said with a heavy roll of her eyes.

The Jedi snorted. He absolutely was older than her. Twenty years, at least, by the looks of it.

“All right,” he said, diplomatically. “I’m here researching ancient prophecies. What’s your excuse?” He challenged her easily.

Her arms fell from their defiant state folded across her chest and hung limply at her sides as she deflated. “Uh, well–I…”

“As expected,” Obi-Wan barely managed not to roll his eyes. “Come on. I’ll take you back to the creche.”

She frowned in disgust. “I don’t need you to take me back. I can navigate the Temple on my own, thank you. I am six, y’know.”

“Oh, well why didn’t you say so?” he gasped, a dramatic hand to his chest. “My apologies for the insinuation, wise one.”

The youngling hesitated, seeming to teeter between deciding whether he was being serious or sarcastic. She ended on the former and grinned in response at the title. “Quite all right, youngling.”

Why, that little–

“I’m here on important business, but it’s very very confidential. Top-secret. The most exclusive–” Her words came out garbled and choppy, a result of her missing two front teeth. “If you don’t tell anyone you saw me here, I’ll even promise not to snitch on you for breaking curfew,” she smiled self-importantly.

Obi-Wan’s jaw dropped at the nerve. “Breaking...snitch–what?” He frowned. “Listen here, little one. I don’t know what rules you’re following, but they’re certainly not the rules that governed me when I was a youngling–many, many years ago,” he added the last statement with a hard glare toward the small Togruta.

She stared at him for several silent moments and Obi-Wan would have given a great many things to have insight in her thoughts at that time, but before he could say or do anything–

“Youngling!” Obi-Wan rushed to her, kneeling beside her small form, crumpled on the floor. “Are you...okay?”

His knowledge on healing was admittedly limited, but the Togruta suddenly shivering on the floor was absolutely not okay. Out of seemingly nowhere, she’d just...dropped. Her lip quivered with every shake and Obi-Wan was filled with painful compassion. He should have known something was wrong; she’d been sneezing and coughing since she’d walked in here.

“Little one,” he repeated, placing a tentative hand on her small shoulder. “I want to help you, but you have to help me, too, okay?”

She nodded weakly.

“What’s your name?”

“Ah–” A painful sneeze. “Ahsoka.” She shut her eyes tight.

“Okay, Ahsoka,” he nodded, trying to channel as much peace through his touch as he could. This was not the time to lose control, but here he was, a blubbering fool as this youngling lay helpless in front of him. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? What hurts?”

“Head,” she muttered. “Tummy. Arms. Feet.”

“It all hurts?”

“Gonna die,” she sighed, even while shivering.

If he wasn’t so scared she was right, he may have laughed at her ridiculous dramatics.

“You’re not going to die, Ahsoka,” he assured her, ruefully, laying the back of his hand across her forehead. “But you do have a fever.”

Obi-Wan frowned, looking around the room. There was no medical supplies nearby, and Master Nu had gone to her quarters hours ago. He could comm Qui-Gon, but he wasn’t sure how kindly his master would take to being woken for this.

He wasn’t even sure what this was. Obi-Wan didn’t even like kids; they were annoying, loud, and absolute menaces. But...as he looked at the trembling girl on the floor in front of him, his heart softened the tiniest bit. She didn’t seem so bad, this Ahsoka. Mischievous, for sure. Not someone Obi-Wan would have gravitated toward during his days in the creche at all. But she was...funny. Quick-witted. And–

Painfully adorable.

“All right, young one, I’m going to need you to stand back up so I can get you to a healer. Can you do that for me?”

She grimaced at the request, but made an effort to stand anyway. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but respect her determination. His hand caught under one of her arms and he hoisted her up to her feet, moving to let go, but she gripped the material of his trousers and collapsed into his leg.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “All right, then.”

He tried to step forward, but her arms only snaked around his leg, successfully anchoring his foot to the floor. His reflexes were the only thing to keep him from tripping over himself and collapsing.

“Ahsoka,” he sighed. “You have to walk...and let me walk...if you want to get better.”

“My legs are achy,” she whimpered, looking up at him with those big, blue aggravatingly commanding eyes. What could he possibly say to that except–

“Okay.” He scooped her up into his arms and began the jaunt to the Halls of Healing.

Ahsoka smiled at him briefly, her toothless grin shooting straight into his heart, before nestling her head into the crook of his neck. Once again, he was taken aback by how very warm she was.

“We’re going to make a pit stop,” Obi-Wan told her, quickly ducking into a ‘fresher off the side hall. Balancing the girl in one arm, he made a pathetic attempt to rip off paper towels, groaning in frustration until an entire towel roll from the other side of the room came barreling into his chest. He looked down at it in surprise before hearing a tiny giggle.

“Did you just–” He shook his head in half-hearted chastisement. “That’s not proper use of the Force, little one.”

“I was helping you, so it’s allowed.”

“That’s not how–” He shut his eyes, sighing deeply. He wasn’t about to pick a fight with a six-year-old. Finally, he managed to run the towels under running water and folded them into a neat square. Still struggling to balance the youngling, he placed it on her forehead.

She jumped at the cold sensation, but leaned into it, letting her head drop entirely into his hand. He couldn’t stop being amazed at the fact that her entire head practically fit in his hand.

“Better?”

She sighed happily. “I’m healed,” she croaked, before spazzing into a sneeze.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes with a snort. “Sounds like it.”

“No healers,” she insisted, even as her body shook again. “Medicine is gross.”

“You need proper care, little one.”

Ahsoka wrapped her hands around Obi-Wan’s, guiding him to keep the towel on her forehead as she curled back into his neck. He didn’t understand why she didn’t just take the towel and do it herself, but who was he to question the inner workings of a crecheling.

“No medicine,” she whispered, shivering against him. “Just need you.”

#my fic #whump prompts #obi & soka #PADAWAN obi & BABY soka #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #grandmaster and grandpadawan LOVE #star wars fanfic

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stolen-pen-name23 · 3 years

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Yay Prompts! :D Congratulations again Katie! It was really hard to choose between them, but I decided on 12. “It reminded me of you.” for Obi-Wan and Anakin during the early years of their Padawan & Master time. (maybe with Obi-Wan bringing something back from a mission?) Thank you! <3

Ahhh thank you for the prompt! I love it! // from these prompts

So this is the spiritual sequel to this ficlet, but you don't need to read it to understand it. Here ya go!

---

It is the middle of the night on Coruscant and Obi-Wan is wide awake.

For once, he is not being kept awake by his own thoughts or anxieties. This time around, Obi-Wan is awake because his ship has just landed in the temple hangar after returning from Alderaan where the time is currently mid-day. Obi-Wan’s body believes it is time to go get a mid-day meal, but he resists the urge. He knows he needs to get adjusted to Coruscant time sooner rather than later — especially with a rambunctious padawan on his hands.

Obi-Wan smiles at the thought of seeing Anakin. They’ve been apart for two weeks now, and while Anakin has gotten more used to Obi-Wan going on solo missions every now and then, he still didn’t like it. Whenever Obi-Wan returned from his missions alone, Anakin tended to act even clingier than normal for a few days. Not that Obi-Wan minded too much.

He missed Anakin too.

He hopes Anakin isn’t too angry with him. Obi-Wan was supposed to be back at the temple in the afternoon, but he had slept through his alarms on Alderaan — his body exhausted from two weeks of travel and negotiations and pretending like he enjoyed the company of the politicians around him. Still, he can’t help but feel a little bad about his tardiness.

A spring bounds itself to Obi-Wan’s steps and he rolls his eyes at his own energy. Of course the one time he’s well-rested, he’s adjusted to the wrong time zone. A group of nocturnal Jedi conversing together in the hallway stare at him as he passes them by. He offers them a wave and ignores their questioning stares.

Despite his unexpected energy, he is relieved when he gets to his apartment. While Obi-Wan loves to travel beyond the smog-saturated atmosphere of Coruscant, he is always most content within the walls of the temple.

Quietly, he waves open the front door and takes soft steps through the foyer. With a flick of his wrist, a lamp switches on, bathing the entire living room in a warm glow and revealing golden hair peeking out of a bundle of blankets.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan questions in surprise. “What are you doing on the couch? It’s the middle of the night. Why aren’t you sleeping in your own room?”

Anakin blinks at him tiredly. The childish part of Obi-Wan that still remains can’t help but feel some sort of smug satisfaction at being the one to wake up Anakin for once. Normally, Anakin is the one hell-bent on keeping Obi-Wan awake. But the feeling does not last when he gets a closer look at his padawan. Flushed cheeks, unfocused gaze, sweat-soaked hair. Obi-Wan kneels down next to Anakin.

“Hey,” Obi-Wan says gently. “Are you feeling okay?”

Anakin shakes his head no.

Obi-Wan grimaces. “You should be resting in your room. What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you. You’re late.”

Guilt swells in Obi-Wan’s chest. He rests his hand on Anakin’s forehead and winces at the heat.

“That’s a pretty bad fever,” Obi-Wan murmurs more to himself than to Anakin. He moves his hand down to cup Anakin’s cheek and the boy leans into the touch. “I thought Master Plo was supposed to be checking on you twice a day?”

“He was. He came by this morning. I felt fine this morning.”

“And not this afternoon?”

“You were supposed to be here this afternoon,” Anakin states, blinking big puppy dog eyes up at him. The sticky feeling of guilt intensifies.

“Why didn’t you call for Master Plo? He would have come back and helped you.”

“I thought you were coming.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan sighs. “And I’m really sorry. But I’m here now okay? I can take care of you now.”

Anakin nods. “Okay.”

Obi-Wan gets up and starts rooting around the kitchen. “I should make you some soup. When was the last time you ate? I bet you haven’t eaten today. Oh Force we have nothing here. Okay, okay let me go find you something, and then we can—”

“Master,” Anakin says, cutting him off from his ramblings. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you start thinking out loud.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says sheepishly. “Well, have you eaten?”

“I ate this morning.”

“That was a long time ago,” Obi-Wan says. “I think.”

“Don’t care. Not hungry. Don’t feel good.”

“You might feel better with something in your stomach,” Obi-Wan suggests.

“Don’t think so. And isn’t it the middle of the night? No one eats in the middle of the night. It’s not a meal time.”

“Time is made up.”

“What?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. Maybe now is not the best time to bring up his existential musings. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m still on Alderaan time. It’s throwing me off.”

Anakin narrows his eyes at him and shakes his head. “I don’t want any soup,” he declares.

Obi-Wan sighs. “Fine. But I’m making ginger tea and you will drink it.”

“Ugh,” Anakin grimaces. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t care.”

Obi-Wan begins making the tea, his hands going through the motions on their own accord while his thoughts linger on Anakin. He was only a few hours late. Still. Guilt continues to coil around him like a snake. Obi-Wan can feel Anakin’s distress still clinging to his Force presence. He was probably scared and he was definitely disappointed. Obi-Wan frowns at the thought.

The high-pitched whistle from the kettle makes him shake those thoughts away. He brews the tea and returns to the couch to find Anakin half-asleep and shivering.

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmurs. “Let’s get you to your actual bed. It will be warmer there.”

Anakin nods but makes no move to get up.

“Come on, Padawan,” Obi-Wan says, setting the tea down on the side table. He pulls the blankets off of Anakin and he shivers even more.

Obi-Wan guides Anakin to his bedroom and he slides into bed. Obi-Wan starts to pull the blankets up over him, but the Anakin pulls them away on his own. “I can do it,” he says sharply.

“Oh, can you now?” Obi-Wan says with a raised eyebrow.

Anakin huffs in reply, already tangling himself up in the sheets.

“Are you still mad at me?” Obi-Wan asks.

Anakin gives a petulant nod and it takes everything in Obi-Wan to smother his laughter.

“That’s too bad. I got you something while I was gone.”

Anakin perks up slightly. “You got me something?”

“Mhmm,” Obi-Wan hums. “But since you’re so mad at me, I know you probably won’t want to accept any gifts from me, so I’ll just hold onto it.”

“Wait,” Anakin says, sitting up. “I’m not that mad.”

“Oh really?” Obi-Wan teases. “You can forgive me for all my transgressions?”

“Some of them,” Anakin says tentatively.

“I guess that will have to do for now, huh?” Obi-Wan says as he digs through his robe.

Anakin nods his assent and watches Obi-Wan with bright eyes.

“Do you remember a few weeks ago when you brought home that loth cat?”

Anakin perks up even more. “Did you get me a loth cat?”

Obi-Wan cringes. He probably shouldn’t have led with that. “Kind of,” he says.

Obi-Wan presents the stuffed loth cat he picked up on Alderaan to Anakin and the boy’s eyes light up.

“Thank you, Master!” Anakin says, giddy with excitement at the prospect of being given a gift. He probably hasn’t received too many gifts in his life, Obi-Wan thinks a little sadly.

“You’re most welcome, Anakin.”

“Why did you get this for me?” he asks, his eyes not leaving the stuffed animal.

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan falters. “I saw it and it reminded me of you.”

Anakin pulls his eyes away from the loth cat to give Obi-Wan a disbelieving look. “Really?”

“Really.”

At that, Anakin jumps forward and throws his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan smiles at the reaction, but worry creeps back in when he can feel the heat still emanating from Anakin’s body.

“I’m glad you like it,” Obi-Wan says. “But I think this is enough excitement for one night. You need to get some sleep if you want that fever to go down.”

“I’m not tired.”

Obi-Wan sees the lie for what it is, but he indulges him anyway.

“Well then, why don’t you lay down, and maybe you’ll start to feel tired?”

“I don’t think I will, Master,” Anakin says, even as he starts to settle back into bed. He lets Obi-Wan pull the blankets over him this time. The stuffed loth cat is held tightly in his arms.

“Wait here then. I’ll go get you your tea.”

Anakin groans. “I don’t want it.”

“It will make you fall asleep,” Obi-Wan insists. He ignores Anakin’s protests as he ducks out of the room and finds his way back to the living room where he left the tea.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan groans to himself as he notices for the first time all the droid parts littering the floor and the coffee table. He takes a moment to straighten everything out before grabbing the mug of tea and heading back to Anakin’s room.

“Now, I know you don’t like it, but I promise it will—” Obi-Wan cuts himself off when his eyes land on the form of his Padawan. His breaths have evened out and his eyes are closed. The blankets are pulled up to his shoulders and the stuffed loth cat is nestled under his chin.

Obi-Wan stands in the doorway, smiling softly and sipping on lukewarm tea.

#thanks for the prompt!#my writing #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #fluff #hurt/comfort

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haikyuu-sickfics · 3 years

Note

Can you do one where Y/N is really sick and kuroo and Bokuto take care of Y/N but Y/n doesn’t want them to know? If you can ☺️✨ and I love you work bye❤️

Throbbing pain pounded against Y/n's head in unison with the blaring pitch of the alarm on the side of their bed. Pressure pressed gently against their sinuses, hinting towards the runny nose which is sure to come. A small itch persisted up and down their throat, threatening to develop into a coughing fit with each breath.

All instincts told Y/n to take a day off- it was a weekend and there were no Nekoma manager duties which needed to be get done promptly, perfect day to sit back and watch a couple movies. Except, they had plans. Months ago, Tetsurou, Koutarou, Yukie and Y/n and had discussed this day in hopes of having a bonding day with the captains and third year managers. It was an annual occurance for the four to all have the day off, there was no way Y/n was going to let a little cold get in their way.

Rubbing their eyes with a groan, they pulled themselves upright against vertigo. They sat with their legs over the edge- rooted to the floor for a moment, slamming the alarm until the incessant beeping ceased. Rubbing the sleep from their sore eyes, they fumbled their hand on the nightstand in search of their phone.

Various texts lit up on the screen, revealing Yukie's inability to show up to their agreed meeting and the two aces grand disappointment at such news.

There was no way Y/n could call out now. The boys wouldn't be able to handle such disappointment.

Groaning once more, considerably more exaggerated this time, Y/n pulled themselves to their feet, stumbling down the hall to the nearest bathroom. The wall held them up more than their legs did.

Looking into the mirror, they weren't too surprised at the sight which greeted them. Disappointing? Yes. But when feeling so awful, it wasn't expected to look like a runway ready model.

Though, the dark circles around their eyes did kinda look like some cool grungy makeup. Maybe they could pull off this look... Or maybe that was the fever talking.

Not that they had a fever, or so they didn't think so. Their motto was 'if there aint proof, it aint there.' So until someone shoved a thermometer into their mouth and showed them the high numbers, they were completely fine.

A coughing fit forced its way of of their body, ricocheting around their chest as their body's way of saying 'what type of logic is that you expired carton of single serving size 2% milk.'

Turning on the faucet and cupping their unsteady hands under the stream and splashing their face. Closing their eyes, Y/n rubbed the cool water over their scalp. Dabbing their face with a towel resting on a rack behind them, they took special care in rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

Satisfied with the dryness of their face, they set off with the beginning of their routine.

---

The air was cold.

So very cold.

Y/n's knees shook as they walked to the meeting place, nearly collapsing from the relief of the familiar park table. Quickening their pace, they slid to a sitting position, folding their hands on the dewy table and keeping an eye out for her peers.

The pair of players were known for being late, though. Y/n didn't know how long they could keep their heavy head up. So they decided to rest it on their hands. Just to get a little energy. And hey. While they were at it, may as well close their eyes. It's not like they'll fall asleep or anything. They were good at staying aware with their eyes closed. That was for sure. They had remembered whole lectures while their eyes were resting. This will be no different.

---

"Are they okay?" Tetsurou asked as he approached the table where his two friends sat.

Koutarou shrugged, "they were like this when I got here, I poked their shoulder but they kinda growled at me. I don't know, it was scary. So I just waited here for you."

Testurou walked over to Y/n, crouching down next to them, examining their face. Heat radiated off of their sleeping face, causing his eyebrows to rise.

"Hey bro," he spoke quietly, "I think they're sick."

"No way dude, Y/n like never gets sick."

"There's a first time for everything, I guess."

He shook Y/n's shoulder gently, ignoring their sleepy complaints.

"C'mon you gotta get up, unless you want us to carry you home."

Y/n's eyes blinked open.

"It's about time you got here, I almost fell asleep in the time it took you to arrive," Y/n slurred, their voice gravelly.

"Yup came real close to falling asleep there. Say, why don't we go to your house?" Tetsurou offered, scooping his hands under their shoulders.

They laughed drowsily, "why are you tickling me? And why go home? Home is for like. Homers... Homies."

Koutarou spoke up, placing his hand over Y/n's, "Aren't we homies though?"

"Ohh yea! That's right. Let's go homies home!" Y/n began to push themselves up, not realizing the majority of their strength came from Testurous firm hands.

"I'll lead the way," they offered, tripping over their own feet as they stepped ahead.

"Mayyyybe that's not such a good idea when you're sick," Tetsurou argued, him and Koutarou taking hold of Y/n's arm.

"What do you mean sick? Are you insulting me?"

"Okay, okay! You're not sick. Be my guest, walk on your own," Tetsurou released his hold, nodding towards Koutarou to do the same.

Brushing off their shoulders Y/n began walking once more.

"You sure we should let them go ahead like that?" Koutarou whispered, anxiously eyeing Y/n's shaky footwork.

"Three. Two," Tetsurou stepped behind Y/n, "One."

Right on queue, Y/n collapsed into his arms.

"Now help me out. We sure hurry to their house before someone thinks we're kidnappers."

----

Warmth surrounded Y/n as their eyes fluttered open. A bright light flooded their vision Why was it warm all of a sudden? Weren't they at the park? Did they sleep through the whole morning?

No, that wasn't the sun. That was an artificial light. And they weren't laying on a bench, it was too soft for that.

"Good morning sleepyhead!" A familiar voice sang.

Y/n shot up, nausea induced vertigo sending them blinking to regain composer.

"Koubo? What are you doing here?" They asked, planting a firm hand on the side of their head.

"It's a really funny story, but there's time for that later. Here, have some soup."

He sat down at the edge of Y/n's bed, tucking a steaming bowl of soup under their chin before bringing a spoonful up to their mouth.

Y/n let their mouth open, mostly out of confusion.

The soup was sweet, but also a bit savory. Surprisingly good considering the chef. Assuming Koutarou was the chef. Who else would be?

"Oh! You're up," Testurou exclaimed, entering the room with a 'Kiss the Chef' apron on.

Y/n practically spat out their soup.

"You're both here?" They choked out, "what happened?"

"What happened was someone doesn't know when to take a sick day," Tetsurou informed, taking seat at the foot of the bed.

Y/n shook their head, "I don't know what you guys are saying."

"YOU. ARE. SICK." Koutarou enunciated clearly.

"Oh."

"Want some tea?"

"I just wanna sleep."

"Okay we can go," Koutarou began to stand.

Y/n grabbed his arm.

"Stay."

#haikyuu x reader #sick reader #haikyuu sickfic

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horanghoe · 3 years

Text

warm milk & honey - SKZ fic

A/N: I just realised I forgot Han ^ I am screaming

Pairing: OT7/reader

Rating: PG friendly (with a friendly warning of poly / multiple person relationship).

Genre: POLY!SKZ / Fluff / Very slight angst & mentions of bad sleep patterns.

Word Count: 3.6k exactly, my doods

Summary: A restless night, ultimately remedied by your sweet baby man angel boys. Or alternatively: Istg if Jisung makes one more weird noise imma end this man’s whole life no cap, Binnie hold me back -

Back to ~ SKZ Masterlist

Back to ~ Main Masterlist

Special Mentions <3

@domjaehyun for being a yoghurt eating legend that takes a year to respond ASKDJF ILY BICH//

@seowoos for inspiring this whole damn thing & helping me feel more comfortable w publishing more niche content models. Even if it’s just cheesy enough for the two of us <3 //

@chocolvte for being another OG on this list, n just generally being a sweet bean <3 baby girl ur reactions were the second inspiration to get me INTO SKZ in the first place. ily uwu //

and lastly, surprise @mikoto-ica-fics !! You were the last part of the equation that got me to write smin for these boys. I binged practically all your fics in two nights bby, keep making michellin star fics <3

Tonight wasn’t working out quite as you had expected.

To be honest, it was fucking shit.

Well, the night itself was okay. In terms of activities. An evening in with your boyfriend, Chan.

Just you two versus the world. The poor boy was so tired that honestly, it had only consisted of a walk through the park to grab snacks, and returning to the empty dorm to laze around the whole evening. A Netflix date with some *ahem* late night fun to settle you both into a deep, restful state.

It was brilliant, fantastic. Until it wasn’t.

Until you lay painfully awake in his bed and suffocated in the dark silence and space between you. It wasn’t Chan’s fault; the obnoxious whirring of electronics made your head spin, tiny flashing lights and minute feelings of unease at the cupboard door leaning open; all made it virtually impossible to sleep.

It was too cold. Too hot. You were so comfortable, melted into the mattress. But it was swallowing you and your claustrophobia was starting to make you twitch. Moving off of your angelic boy’s limbs, you shimmied to the cooler side of the bed.

He stirred a little, before settling on turning away, onto his side. Phew. At least you hadn’t woken him. It wasn’t like you were trying to be selfish, but fuck. This was insufferable.

Every time you looked at the clock you were sure it slowed down - balls, at this point it could’ve skipped back an hour and you wouldn’t have batted an eye. Mostly because if they weren’t checking the clock, they were staring dead straight up at the ceiling.

Eh. Ugh. Fuck. I can’t sleep.

That’s all your brain could think. Stuck - monotone and on a never-ending loop.

It seemed like everything you had ever thought was swimming around in your brain like some kind of primordial juice. Feelings and emotions swelling and bloating in your belly until they settled.

And then a car passed outside, and everything started to swell up again.

Chan was on his side, turned away and peacefully gaining some shut-eye. He was only lightly sleeping though, that much you could tell. His body gently lifting, then falling with breath. Like you; he often struggled to sleep deeply, usually not lasting very long when he did manage to.

You were so pissed.

How dare he sleep. And look so good doing it. Even just his bareback looked hot as shit - here you were, a messy, greasy big toe wrestling with your stupid ape brain to shut off the useless brain thoughts, next to this slice of heaven - just, ugh existing so perfectly.

“Oh my god, this is torture.” You cursed quietly into the dead space.

Maybe the frustration was all from hormones?

Nah, fuck that. Feminism and all that jazz. That’s just part of the human condition, babycakes. Happens to the best of us, unfortunately.

No, what it was, was the constant whirring coming from the TV screen and Felix’s PlayStation tower and large monitor. The tiny little flashes, whirrs, huffs from the fan and rotating lights. It was driving you abhorrently insane. FUCK.

“Chan? Channie, baby, are you awake?.” You whispered into the air. His breath faltered a little, stirred mostly by your movement to groan, gruff and flip the duvet off your hot, sticky body. Gentle though you tried to be, it was still enough to wake his fuzzy brain.

“Chan, please. I’m sorry babe but that TV is driving me fucking insane.” Your voice was too alert and frustrated for him not to stir. His heart panged a little at the distress laced in your tone.

“Please, Channie. I’m so sorry…”

He rolled on his back to look at you. Slowly, and with much effort. He groaned softly before wiping his eyes and leaving his arms above his head.

“Hey.” He whispered, warmly smiling.

“Don’t be sorry – can you not sleep again, baby girl?” Chan asked softly, watching you sit stiffly upright. His deep voice made your heart flutter, nodding as he groaned. He smiled despite any resentment you may have allowed him to feel. Resting his warm palm against your rib as he muttered a response - you excused his fumbled words for definition - so tired he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

“You can turn it off, yeah?” Chan sighed.

What he meant was ‘You know how and where to turn it off, without messing up the whole system like last time, right?’. You nodded quickly, squeezing his bicep lightly before slipping from the exposed mattress.

Dashing up to scramble behind the low TV unit and find the one wire to end it all. Your infernal pain that was.

He watched you, letting his eyes rest occasionally. Truth was, you looked so beautiful to him when you were concentrating on something. For example, pulling out the HDMI cord triumphantly. And holding in a small squeal (scream), of relief when the high pitched buzzing cut out with a slight electronic fuzz. He chuckled, not missing your little feet pattering in step with a tiny little victory pump.

“Yes. Fuck. The noise, it’s gone!” Chan chuckled softly, keeping his arm outstretched until you landed beside him. Pulling you toward him, under the covers.

“Yeah, you really got that wire Y/N. Showed it who’s the boss, huh?” His tired enthusiasm outweighed his sarcasm, owning a soft kiss to the cheek as you clambered over the bed, only to flop with a weighted sigh straight down onto his shoulder.

He giggled, smiling with a yawn as he tucked his arm against your ribs, tucking you up against his chest in a bearhug.

You fell asleep quickly; soft breaths and just the presence of Chan's being, enough to satiate the gnawing ache in the back of your brain.

And it was peaceful. Restful. Warm, and so pleasant.

Until it wasn’t.

Turns out tonight wasn’t your night. The clock read 1:28 am – and the boys were due to come home from practice any moment now. To be honest they were pretty late.

Chan had originally had the day off, hence the chance for you to be led here in his arms. But you were starting to think it really hadn’t made that much of a difference.

It wasn’t just the high pitched whirring that had aggravated you, but now the uncomfortable heat radiating from Chan's body. The small whoosh of cool air against your neck at any vehicle that passed by. Or just the evening breeze. You groaned softly, dropping your head back to Chan’s chest with a soft thud, lulling back into a light and unrestful sleep.

Ten minutes or so passed. Waking from a fuzzy dream, you were disorientated. The worst dreams always happened in short little bursts. Like little hellish fever dreams.

The clock now read 1:39 am and the time between minutes was becoming unbearable. Too long to bear . You had to move. Speak. Scream. Cry. Kick. Do something.

Peeling off Chan’s arm, and replacing yourself with a large fluffy pillow, you left your lover to rest. You dread to think that it would be able to replace you, but hey, at least it wouldn’t move like one big fat sweaty ferret, right?

Sigh. Sad times.

You abandoned Chan for the disgustingly bright hallway. Seeking new comforts, from whoever would take you. The boys were home; noises of beings floating down the hall, past Chan’s room.

By the time you had gathered the strength to rise off the bed though – blinking away the stars and excited little lines in your vision and raising enough chi to move your soul, and body upwards off of the bed – an inkling of tiredness was starting to itch into your consciousness.

You ached to be held. Loved.

You weren’t sleepy enough to get back into his bed though. Though; you missed Chan’s body as soon as you had tumbled yourself away from it.

---------

Fetching your favourite fluffy square pillow and putting on one of Chan’s big shirts, you padded out and into the hallway. The door closed behind you with a soft putt, pillow tight against your belly.

The tired but comfortingly loud voices of your other lovers were coming from the kitchen.

You wobbled forward, groaning to yourself as your thighs began to ache. Just from being alive, you guessed. Your thighs tingled your skin into little chilly goosebumps, a shiver sparking down your spine.

Maybe the heat of Chan’s bed wasn’t so bad, you began to consider. Before a voice echoed down to where you were slowly walking from.

“Ya – hold up, I’ll grab my jumper then we can watch that stupid shit-film you were on about earlier?” You heard Jisung shout over the kitchen to the boys gathered on the sofa.

The boys muttered some form of agreement and before you could process it, the firm but soft body of Han Jisung had swung right around the corner and straight into your zombie path.

Being conscious, and not half-dead like you, he was able to stop abruptly in front of you and step back a little. The shock of a body blocking his path was quickly masked with warm love as he cooed at the sight of you.

“Y/n-ieeeeee look at youuuu~” He whispered loudly, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze you firm against his body.

His presence eased you, despite the chaotic energy he may have appeared to have. He was just one big squirrel with muscles. The perfectly-right size to pull you against him, your neck flopping so skin met skin, cheek to shoulder in that white sleeveless shirt of his.

You melted into his caring touch, groaning when he gave a squeeze and actually, not hating how firmly he held you. For a moment, he seemed to be just quietly accepting your unspoken words. Night-long grief expressed in the way you clung to him.

Eventually, he asked the inevitable questions, though.

“Baby, why aren’t you asleep? Hmm, pretty? It’s like, 2 am already!” He exclaimed softly, somewhat conscious of Chan’s sleeping presence down the hall. And your zombie-eardrums.

You couldn’t answer, instead, you let him pull you away so he could peer down at your head against his shoulder. The pillow was a soft barrier between you, though he removed it to place it softly on the floor.

“As cute as you look in Chan’s top right now, baby, this hallway is pretty cold. Gosh damn, your legs are shaking so much. How long have you been standing out here princess? Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?” He squeezed you against him once more - rubbing his warm palms against your trembling, shivering thighs.

As he stood back up you groaned again, reluctant to articulate how badly you just wanted to be softly touched. Not aggressively rubbed. Even if you appreciated the notion, it was cutely awkward. Your expression made him laugh softly, tucking hair behind your ear and placing a kiss on your cheek, head, forehead.

“You okay though? Wanna come sit with us?” You nodded quickly, body flopping into his hold as soon as his arms went to lift you. Your head rested on his shoulder, Jisung’s body dipping to lift you and wrap your knees around his hips. He was such a careful, sweet baby boy.

“Ya – come on you big baby, you. Who do you want to be delivered too for the meantime, huh? I gotta go change out of my gym stuff.”

“Hyunjin-ah... please...” You mumbled airily. Despite how unused your voice was, it was sweet as honey. He smiled, responding with a soft “Sure" before turning back to where he had come from. Heart warmed by the opportunity to care for you, even if for just a moment.

And even though he was a bit sticky – and the thought ‘yuck' registered quickly in your half-conscious brain – you didn’t mind the smell. Or the languid way he carried you.

You nuzzled against his neck, groaning once more as his entrance was announced to the room. A loud “Han Jisung's Special Delivery Service!” was projected, I.N. slipping by with a quick ruffle of your hair before moving to turn down the hall, into his room. The boys looked up at the noise and your entrance into the room, immediately softened by the sight.

You, entirely snuggled against a buoyant Jisung, that held you so carefully against his chest. Messy hair tucked under his chin; your eyes were puffy, sore, and barely open as he came into the centre of the soft-lit room.

“Nawww – cuuuutieeee~” Changbin cooed, Lee Know giggling as Seungmin stepped forward to kiss your cheek, sweetly brushing hairs away from your face. The proximity to Jisung didn’t seem to spook his intimacy.

Your eyes fluttered close from the embrace, Seungmin smiling to himself at his ability to soothe you. Even just a little.

“That’s a funny looking jumper, Ji.” Seungmin quipped, before adding a quick “Hi Y/N.” With a small squeeze of your cheek, before heading toward the kitchen.

“Hyunjin-ah you have a special request delivery here, where shall I put her?” Jisung questioned, approaching the sofa nimbly.

Hyunjin smiled, shuffling a little before holding out his arms, patting his lap.

“Right here~” you heard, before feeling gravity weigh at your back. You got off early, aided by Jisung and Hyunjin’s hands on your hips. Quietly you yawned, turning to a barefaced beautiful boy, smiling at you cutely.

Jisung pecked a kiss on your shoulder before passing, leaving to go sort himself out.

Hyunjin smiled up at you with a coo, pulling you down towards him with his long limbs. With you laying, legs tangled above him he wiggled back so you could lay comfortably on his chest.

He kissed your cheek before tucking your forehead against his chin, your eyes slowly bobbing open and shut as his calm vibe washed over you. Changbin shared some of your weight on the somewhat roomy sofa; kissing your hair softly and curling against you to keep you warm.

The television was on a late-night MC show playing. Though it registered to you as white noise. The boy’s voices over you were soothing, even if they edged a little loud occasionally.

At some point, you had started to drift off again. For the most part, Hyunjin was a gentle giant anyways. So despite his resistance to skinship, your body (and some of the boys), was never left out in terms of body-pillow-comforts.

Meaning, he treated your limbs like a very bony pillow he could encapsulate entirely.

You weren’t sure where the others were. Or what part of the sofa you were even on. You figured the end since the guys had their feet up. But you didn’t mind. It was safe. Here, in their arms. Against their bodies.

Even the bright overhead lights of the kitchen and hallway weren’t enough to stop you lulling into sleep.

At a later point, you awoke again with a startle – Jisung shushing your tired whines with a kiss as he jumped onto the sofa to your left, a little too enthusiastically. Hyunjin moaned like a brat, ultimately having a play fight underneath you until you mustered up a death stare to end all squabbles, ever. Period. Jisung settled, intertwining your fingers on Hyunjin’s belly until your breath softened. Falling into a weak slumber once more.

Once again; your sleep was great. Perfect. Until it wasn’t.

An abrupt jostle of Hyunjin jolting to stop spilling the food he held above your head, was met with an unattractive grunt of pure disgust on your part. Eyes squinted, head wrinkled and body tense, you were once again awake.

“Sorry baby! I didn’t mean to wake you!” Hyunjin whined, too loudly next to your throbbing head. Changbin noticed your tense limbs and pulled you backwards against his chest. This merely caused another squabble to ensue between them - who held the right to hold you, like a fluffy comfort blank.

Suddenly everything was bothering you again.

Their constant jostling and boyish movements were just too much. You pulled up from Changbin. Avoiding the tugging, whining, needy arms and hands from Hyunjin to stand weakly once more.

Frustrated. Tired. And all coupled with a reasonably ugly scowl weeping over your face.

They were so engrossed in their silly little arguments, little kicks, punches and teasing laughter, that they barely even noticed your sluggish movements to get up.

Until you were on your feet. Your body heat sapped from them in a bitter attempt at being sour. Hyunjins hands immediately flew out to steady you. Changbin pouting but ultimately letting you retreat once more.

“Y/Nieeee~ Come baaack, I didn’t mean it. Come lay back down, baby~” Hyunjin whined warily, the other two boys still giggling amongst themselves. You swatted against the tiredness on your face, grumbling before stumbling backwards.

You made it a few steps before you folded over on impact at hitting the kitchen table. The table thudded on impact and the boys winced, watching your face scrunch up in pain immediately.

A new pair of hands caught you this time, stuttering before lean arms caught you.

“Woah! Careful there pretty girl, nearly took the whole bloody table out. You okay?”

Felix's. Soft, caring and most importantly soft voice and calm motions of support waved over you in a way that gave you immediate comfort. You rested your head against his chest as he tugged you up, body slumping into him with an inaudible impact. He giggled, despite your weighted movements, speaking lowly with that deep, tired voice of his.

“Y/N, you silly sausage, are you alright?” He prompted quietly, leaning his head down to capture your whines and huffs of pain.

“Owww, my butt… That hurt~” You groaned, not minding his giggles but sending a puffy glare to the others snickering away on the sofa.

The table (or your idiot bulldozer body), had set a deep ache right into the cheek of your butt. Your hand kneaded it gently before Felix’s hand quickly replaced yours, rubbing and squeezing softly until your face scrunched, the pain subsiding.

“Ouch.” You whispered, peering up at him with a pout. He kissed your nose cutely with a little eruption of giggles, helping you crack a pouty smile.

“Come on, cutie.” He mumbled before grabbing your hand to guide you slowly into the kitchen. “I could kiss it better?” He prompted, ultimately softening at your lack of response. You were so morgue-ish you hadn’t even registered his words. Letting him tug you blindly as your eyes struggled to stay open.

You could barely register his hands, pressing at your waist. Weakly managing to hold on as he lifted you on top of the counter. Squinting, you could see the clock read 2:23 (am) on the cooker. Ugh. What a night.

You’d feel shit in the morning. But that was nearly impossible to think about with the way Felix was holding you right now. Like a baby. Or a puppy. A little ball of fluff.

He kept some form of contact as he moved around you – a hand to the knee or his hip between your legs. Or even lips against your hairline, using the counter space around you to do something. What he was doing, you were tired to even care.

“You know what used to help me Y/N? When I couldn’t sleep at night?” He prompted gently. You shook your head, pulling back with a weak sway

“Warm milk and honey!” He exclaimed quietly. Too cute for his own good. You smiled, and he pulled you against his chest to kiss your cheek and giggle delicately.

“You want some? Then we could try to sleep? You look like you need some shut-eye, baby. Don’t wanna miss out on that beauty sleep! If you want - we can always sleep in – just call in sick? Your boss is honestly so nice, I'm sure she won’t mind. You say you’re always working through lunch breaks anyway?”

Despite his rambling, you just nodded. Tired eyes once again resting as the hum of the radiator, the vibration of his chest eased your brain. Your head tucked so right underneath his chin. His palms folded behind your lower back.

At some point, Changbin had appeared. Sweeping a thumb over your forehead before kissing you sweetly, cheek resting on Felix’s shoulder.

“I love you, princess. Sorry for waking you.” He had whispered against your lips. “Mmm-I-love-you-too-Binnie~” You managed in one tumbling sentence. In fairness, the touch would've probably led you both somewhere (the bedroom), if you weren’t in such a zombie-like state.

“Sure thing, pretty.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your puffy cheeks before retreating. He let you both be, cold marble beneath your thighs now warmed by your constant body heat. You passed out pretty quickly against Felix’s chest. Cocooned, safe.

What you did miss in your deep, deep sleep was the way they carried you.

Felix physically, to their shared room. Changbin carrying your drinks and fetching your favourite pillow from the hall.

And what you heavenly missed in the night; they made up to you in the morning.

And the next night. And the night after that.

Because even though you occasionally suffered restless nights, you knew one of them would always be there to catch you.

And you’d do the same for them.

P.S. Fuck Chan’s wiring system. Extension cables were the bane of your nightly living. *holds up fingers in a cross and hisses*

well would you look at that: updated 03/OCTOBER/2021

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ktheist · 3 years

Text

05 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.8k

➙ warnings. mild exhibitionism

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis.

“i missed you.”

“i know.”

you steal one last glance at seokjin, the smallest of smirk playing on his lips but before it spreads across his face, he’s already burying it in the crook of your neck, biting and suckling on that one spot that gets you clenching your legs together only to be reminded of the man buried to the hilt in between your thighs.

“hey, tae,” you sing the first word, barely managing to get your best friend’s name out without your voice cracking as seokjin starts to move again, tampering with your sanity.

“hey, where you at?” taehyung baritone rings in your left ear where your phone is pressed and seokjin’s exhaled breath drums in the other.

“uh, in class?” your brain shortcircuits - you can barely offer anything tangible than a two worded reply but that probably has something to do with the hand that clasps over your mouth as you feel the moan about to spill off your lips.

“still? i thought you have class till noon and the rest of the day off on thursdays?” the confusion in taehyung’s voice laces around his words - you can almost hear him scratching his head in confusion whilst his brother’s hands rests on the dip of your waist, pulling out and letting a pause lull in between you, that damned smirk gone from seokjin’s face, replaced with a hazed look that couldn’t care less about the little brother who’s on the phone with the woman he’s about to-

“fu-” you whimper against the mouth that crashes against yours, swallowing your moan.

but the kiss was short-lived.

you push away seokjin’s face to force out an awkward laugh, “yeah, so i forgot i had a replacement class.”

“shit, you just knew?” taehyung sounded like he didn’t mind having a whole conversation with you while you were in your fake class.

“i mean,” you breathe out softly when seokjin’s thumb grazes your erected nub, “i think the professor mentioned it some time ago? i don’t know. didn’t care.”

“touche.” the man on the other end replies, you can almost hear him nodding.

“i gotta go, okay?” and with that, you toss your phone to the side.

in hindsight, you should’ve checked if you properly ended the call.

but how can you have a sliver of concern for something else when you’re too rapt in grasping onto the bed sheets as stars dot behind your eyelids. pleasure courses through your veins. back arching, toe curling, heart leaping within your caged chest as moan after moan pours out of your mouth as seokjin takes you higher than any man you’ve had before.

seokjin’s body falls over you a moment later, his strong arms propped on either sides of your head on the bed as he moans. your arms wrap around his body, face buried in the crook of his neck as you tighten yourself around him, goosebumps rising on your skin when his moan turns to a growl as you feel him twitch inside you.

it’s a moment later, once your breathing calms down, do you catch the faint scent of seokjin’s cologne amidst the smell of sweat and sex in the air as seokjin lifts your head with his hand, pushes the pillow away and places your head on his bicep as his free hand wraps around your body. because of your position, you can clearly hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest.

he should be getting off his high but why is his heart racing like crazy?

you snuggle into him, forehead resting against his chest as your cheeks remain hot - you think you’re gonna catch a fever.

the weeks pass by in a breeze with taehyung adamantly advocating for you, hoseok, jimin and him to hang out at jeongguk’s place. rather than a place, it’s a studio for one so having five grown adults in the same room isn’t exactly the brightest idea.

neither you nor taehyung brought up what happened three weeks ago. whether he heard you have sex with his brother - you rather not find out. but to say that everything went back to normal would be a pathetic lie.

every time silence lapses over you, there’s a stale air of awkwardness that comes with it. as if you have to sift through your brain for a topic or else you’ll die from suffocation because having a hole open up underneath you and swallow you into oblivion is too good of a fantasy.

but little do you know, that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

“jinnie, you got so much better at cooking!” a high pitched squeal bursts your eardrums as you watch yoo mina stand too close to your man in her delivery of compliments.

“psssh, this is nothing, wait till you taste my special garlic butter potatoes,” seokjin tries to play it cool but the blush on his cheeks is too apparent even to a blind person.

not to mention, she’s using the nickname you gave him. well, his parents started calling him jinnie first and since you’ve been around for a long time, you end up calling him that too but that’s besides the point.

the point is, you’ve found an annoying little thorn stuck inside your flesh and you want her out.

christmas break rolled around and for the first time, the four of you manage to catch a flight back to your hometown at the same time. usually, seokjin and namjoon would have a day off and spend christmas together in seoul since a day is too short of time to be flying back and forth while you and taehyung go back home.

though this year, your parents decide to make an impromptu visit to your grandparents’ two days before you landed and leave you in the kim’s care like a charity basket on someone’s doorstep on christmas eve.

“yo,” taehyung’s baritone drums in your ears all too suddenly, making you flinch, “can you pass me the-”

as if on cue, an earth shattering crack bounces off the walls for the longest moment as silence settles in the room and nothing except the sound of the tv host energetically announcing something about welcoming guests to the show, fills the air.

“...angel,” taehyung ends his words, blinking at the pieces of porcelain angel scattered across the floor near your feet.

“oh shit, sorry,” you say to no one in particular, heart racing as you drop to your knees, attempting to gather the broken pieces in hopes of- “can you ask mrs. kim if you have hot glue?”

“___, don’t touch the glass with your hands-” you can barely make out taehyung’s instructions even though he’s standing on the ladder right next to you.

“maybe i can piece it b- ah,” you hiss, retracting your hand and holding it against your chest as you watch the spot where it stings starts to seep out bleed.

“let me see that,” a large hand slips under yours gently, as if you’d break under the slightest pressure.

the familiar scent of ocean and fresh air hits your nose as a pair of troubled eyebrows bind together, eyes focused on your bleeding finger, “we need to disinfect it,” seokjin turns to the dark haired girl and middle aged woman standing a few feet away, probably giving you space to breathe and recover from your shock, “sorry mom. mina. can you watch the stove for a bit? and - is the first aid kit still under the sink in the bathroom?”

the pain hasn’t registered, but it’ll be a bitch once it does.

mrs. kim smiles that warm, gentle smile that seokjin often wears. like mother like son, “yes, dear, it’s still there. we hadn’t moved it since you left because no one was getting hurt some of them might’ve expired...”

“come on,” seokjin pushes himself up first but he stops mid action as your anguished voice slips out of your mouth, “ow ow ow, jinnie, it hurts so much, i can’t even stand up.”

“wait, let me-” taehyung starts before his voice gets drowned out by his mother’s order to- “oh tae, since you’re not doing anything, go get the gloves and broom from the storage room and clean this up.”

seokjin shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips as his hands slip under your armpits and hoists you up to your feet like he would a child.

“welp, there goes my chance of being carried like a princess,” you sigh, lips puckering into a pout but you don’t expect him to agree to it so casually-

“okay.”

with a shrug and an all too willing smile, one arm wraps around your shoulder as he bends down to hook his other arm under your knees - only to have you grasp a handful of his sleeve in a desperate attempt to stop him from dipping any lower. like a lesser than smooth criminal scared of getting caught.

“i’d reach up and pluck the stars for you if you asked me to, what makes you think i won’t carry you in my arms if that’s what you want me to do?” his face is dangerously close to you as he whispers before standing back up again.

“what if i asked you to stop talking to someone?” cheeks hot, you murmur to yourself, glancing at mina’s frowning face as you and seokjin walk pass the kitchen counter, him with his face too close and you with your overjoyed heartbeat.

“just kidding!” you grin at the man before skipping a few steps ahead.

“no, please! i don’t wanna die!” you lament, leaning your body over the bathtub and away from the man that’s holding the gauze pad soaked in alcohol over the cut.

instead of sighing, clicking his tongue and calling you dramatic like his brother would, seokjin chuckles, “you know, we haven’t had a conversation since forever. what’s your favorite thing about christmas?”

“you’re just asking to distract me and when i’m distracted, you’ll pour the alcohol over the cut and it’ll hurt like hell,” you pout, eyes boring into his in an attempt to scour for admittance but when he doesn’t let up, you let a grin spread across your face, “i’ll let you do that for a kiss.”

but his inquiry isn’t what you expected, “just a kiss?”

“and a hug,” you nod, opening your arms and offering an innocent smile that barely stays for longer than a second before you feel his arms around your waist, his hand on the back of your head pulling you down to his longing lips.

the kiss lingers a little too long. seokjin pulls away only to breathe out a sigh of relief, as if quenched from the deprivation that almost drove him insane. his hands lock on your back as his face finds home in the crook of your neck. he tends to do that - breathe in the scent of your perfume as if it’s his safe haven.

“i missed you,” his breath is hot against your skin, but nothing could beat the warmth spreading throughout your whole body from just holding him like this.

your heart clenches in your chest. a kiss on top of his head.

“i know.”

taglist. @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics @heyjiminnie @hyuck-me @fanfuckingfic @fangurl-ontgeside @bri-mal @waves-and-woods (if i missed anyone, please comment below. i haven’t got my shit together after coming back eye-)

note. so i wrote this before christmas, hence the holiday theme for this chapter. but stuff happened and i couldn’t post it. hope yall enjoyed!

#bts scenarios #seokjin scenarios #bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #seokjin fic #seokjin imagines #bts imagines #bts scenario #seokjin scenario #bts smuts #seokjin smuts #seokjin x you #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts x you

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Text

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— PALM TO PALM IS HOLY PALMER’S KISS ; PART 3 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1846

SUMMARY: You’re back to teaching at Gotham High and you end up overlooking rehearsals for the GHS drama club’s upcoming annual play: Romeo and Juliet that no one ever attends. In the spirit of keeping your students’ hopes up, you decide to take it upon yourself to draft out a plan to drive more people to come to the play. The key is the man you’re in love with.

WARNINGS: Vague description of a nightmare, death and an annoying teenager.

A/N: This is really going slowly like a true slow burn. I hope yall like this one. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

In the light of your unemployment as a teacher, Gotham High miraculously offered your old job back after Mrs Wilson, one of the senior English Literature teachers, died of a heart attack unannounced. In all seriousness, apologies were made, admitting they had a mistake with firing you because well, you were clearly a passionate teacher. To your surprise, you were told your students even missed you. Hence, you accepted a job from GHS once again because you would do anything to avoid the smell of burgers and the sounds of hungry crying children. After the whole burglary incident, the Big Belly Burger at midtown was forever doomed as customers gradually decreased over time. It was Gotham after all, people should be used to these kinds of things by now. Including witnessing Batman saving you, the whole experience felt like a fever dream. As excited you were and weirdly unbothered by the whole near-death experience, you realized that if you were to talk about it, no one would genuinely believe you anyway. He was a myth to most citizens of Gotham, but you’re an exception because you’re well acquainted with the knowledge that Bruce definitely knows Batman.

And oh boy, do they talk.

It’s your secret to keep and so is the Batarang you stole. You’re also dying to tell Bruce.

So, you find yourself back in the hallways, crowded with sweaty teenagers, but you would choose this over anything else in a heartbeat. Apart from returning to teaching uninterested students about the works of Shakespeare and Harper Lee and forcing reading lists onto them, you are also replacing Mrs Wilson as the GHS Drama Club’s advisor. Stage performance may be personally foreign to you but plays were practically your forte. That was how you ended up spending your Tuesday afternoons, preparing the members for the club’s annual play. This time, they decided to perform the classic: Romeo and Juliet.

As an English teacher, you were frankly sick of the play, forbidden love was a tad overrated to you. Yet the kids were genuinely trying their best. Shaniqua and Oscar were currently rehearsing their lines as the two infamous star-crossed lovers; You watched them with pride. The two were quiet in your classes but they truly shone on the stage of the school theatre.

“And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss—teach, what does this whole scene even mean?” Shaniqua exclaims and you chuckle, “This scene is simply a metaphor where Romeo is a pilgrim wanting to erase his sins and Juliet is a saint. So, he is basically trying to convince her to kiss him so that he can truly be free of sin,” your explanation echoes through the room, and you notice Oscar turning red when you mention the word ‘kiss’. It was clear as day that the poor boy really liked the girl he’s currently hand in hand with but you don’t want him to feel nervous and uncomfortable about the thought of kissing her. “Now Oscar, you can kiss her on the cheek and that’s fine. Shaniqua, say it with more emotion, okay? Everyone got it?” The response you received was a sputter of hums and nods. Before you could continue, Josh, who plays Lord Capulet and is sitting lazily on the handmade throne, speaks up much to your dismay, “Why is it so important that we put so much effort into this. It’s not like anyone is going to come.” The kids around him began agreeing with his statement, and it was honestly completely expected of him but it was the truth. No one attends the drama club’s annual play. As you're trying to calm everyone down, your phone buzzes on the table in front of you. It’s a text from Bruce, asking if you could come over tonight, phrasing it like he’s a schoolboy sneaking from his parents to meet with a girl late at night. Then, like an epiphany you have an idea although there’s an eighty percent chance it wouldn’t go through. Nevertheless, you turn to the rest of the students with a hint of a smile on your lips. “I might have just the idea to solve that.”

A brief span seemed like an eternity when sleep doesn’t come easy to you. Tonight was a different case; thoughts were completely clear and concise. In much need of sleep, you steal the chance to savour in this clarity and serenity for as long as you could. To feel his warmth, arm gently resting on your abdomen and the occasional whiff of his deodorant from his ebony shirt you’re dressed in. If this was what bliss feels like, you never want it to go away. Your eyes grow heavy, flickering into darkness due to exhaustion from a long day of rehearsals. At once, you’re struck with the reminder of the idea you had this afternoon. It is more of a favour, involving none other than Bruce. There’s a tinge of guilt whenever favours are involved because you never liked asking for help. You were furiously independent and responsible, relying on others was out of the question. Yet, Bruce has always seemed to find a way to weave himself in your mistakes and problems, constantly there to help out. You have to remind yourself this isn’t about you. It’s for the kids. Special guest, Bruce Wayne, playboy and billionaire. Sounds awesome.

As your consciousness begins ebbing away, you feel Bruce shift from beside you, grasp tightening upon your waist. Before your dazed mind could even fully process that he was in the midst of a nightmare, his eyes are wide open, heart-pounding and it seizes him up instantly. With deep breaths, he closed his eyes once more, unable to shake the feeling of dread that rattles in him. Then, a sudden cold touch to his arm—he jumps and snaps his head to look over his shoulder.

It’s you, still laid in bed with a prominent frown upon your brows. Your hand squeezes his forearm and all he feels is instant relief. His heart still pounds, not in fear but with affection. “Are you okay?” you drawled as you watch his lingering hand, fingers weaved between the strands of hair. The silver ones glint under the low light, contrasting the deep brown ones. You notice how his hair had grown along with his five o’clock shadow becomes more evident by the days. His face away from you, finally nodding in response to your question. “Yeah, just... a bad dream. His voice is subdued as he shifts under the sheets, head leaning against the headboard. Despite your weakened state, you bring yourself to sit up, twisting your body to face him properly. "You wanna talk about it?” you say, patting his shoulder lightly in a comforting manner. You watch him rub his eyes, exhale tightly and shake his head. “No. Anything but that.”

His response comes out almost harsh but Bruce doesn’t mean for it to be perceived in that way. His dream was the usual, the normal ones he’s used to by now but in times of stress overwork, they have started to become more intense and violent. This time it involved you, for the first time, and he watched you vividly get shot in the forehead—trails of his memory as Batman when he encountered you at the burger restaurant with the muzzle of a gun inches away from you. It haunts him to think that if the circumstances were different if you hadn’t texted him those dreaded four words, you might be dead.

He certainly is not telling you about the dream. Never in a million years.

Bruce turns to you and you’re still staring at him, worry carved deep in your furrowed brows. Change of topic was merely necessary at this point. “So, how has school been? The kids still mean to you?” Classic Bruce, always sweeping his problems under the antique Persian rug. You don’t blame him because you wouldn’t know better.

It was your turn to sigh at the mention of school but since tonight’s pillow talk is heading towards your job as an English teacher at GHS, you might as well use the opportunity to pitch in your plan. “Still mean, but the drama club kids are really great,” You thumb the edge of the blanket, unable to hide your growing smile. “Speaking of which, the annual play is next Friday and they have been rehearsing all week but,” you paused as you watched his right brow gradually lift. “No one comes for it. Like, no one and I hate to see all their efforts just thrown out the window like that—”

“So, you want me to go for it.”

You blinked, wondering if your explanations were too obvious of its underlying intent or Bruce could just read you like an open book. You won’t be surprised if it’s the latter.

“If it’s no biggie. You don’t have to because I know you’re very busy but I don’t want the special guest to end up being the Big Belly Burger mascot.” Your smile widens and Bruce chuckles. Hell, it’s probably past midnight and you’re still able to find ways to be terribly funny. Literally terrible. After a beat of silence, he clears his throat. “I’ll clear my schedule.” It didn’t need much anticipation or thought because despite everything going on in his life, he knows he’ll do just about anything for you. You’re practically beaming at him and he finally sees it’s all worth it in the end. “Thank you, Bruce.” Your voice is sweet, and it makes his heart swell ever so slightly.

He sometimes wishes the two of you weren’t trapped in this loophole of unsaid confessions and hidden strong emotions for the other.

It almost comes naturally when he leans to you and presses a swift kiss to your forehead. Instead, it’s contradicting everything the two of you consider normal. He isn’t thinking straight and now your smile has disappeared, mouth agape and eyes very wide. Your brain stops.

Uh, what the hell just happened?

It hits him like a punch to the gut and the growing awkward silence is deafening. Yet, he doesn’t apologise because if he does, it doesn’t mean anything when in reality, it means so much more than just an accidental gesture. You don’t mention anything because you don’t objectify his actions. Kissing Bruce was fine when there are no strings attached but a peck to the forehead is way too affectionate for the man.

Before the both of you begin to overthink the events of a few moments ago, Bruce’s rational conscience kicks in and he clears his throat. “Get some sleep. You had a long day today.” He pats you on the shoulder awkwardly and you hum, shifting your head to lay back on the pillow. “Yesterday.” you correct him as it’s well past midnight. He chuckles, now laying flat on his back as he stares at the ceiling. Silently, the two of you agree to forget whatever happened a minute ago and to just...sleep it off.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #batman #batman x reader #batman imagine #justice league #pining bagels repeat

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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday

Title: Extraordinary

Pairings: HotchReid (more to come)

Summary: League of Extraordinary Gentleman/Vampire AU;

Within the FBI there is a specialized team full of an elite selection of people. Unique individuals with very particular skill sets. And their job is to take the unusual cases: the ones that need to not only be solved, but are undetermined if the unsub is human, or something else entirely.

In a world filled with Vampires, non-human creatures, and subspecies unknown, there is only enough information to have them vaguely regulated. Rules that are so easily, and violently broken, all while hidden in plain sight among the unsuspecting public. Unrivaled for eons.

That’s where the BAU comes in.

Official Posting Date: October 2021

Links: (Masterpost) (Snippet 01) (Snippet 02) (Snippet 03) (Snippet 04)

(TW/CW: dead body/crime scene, blood and bite wounds talked about in detail, hypnosis/compelling someone to do something against their will, overall discussion of murder (basically what we see in every episode of the show))

(the story so far/what you need to know for this clip at least: Absolutely nothing you don’t already know, this is legit from the first chapter. Hotch is a Vampire (although the LEOs don’t really know that), Rossi is a priest, Morgan is so empathetically telepathic he can touch the auras in the air, and Reid is Reid. I know I’ve been giving you the juicy HotchReid stuff but here have some case stuff too, to see what you’re in for with the plot and everything. This is FIRST DRAFT so it’s terribly unpolished, first part is generalized POV (hence the more professional titles) and the second is within the team dynamics so they get more familiar. idk my first drafts are messy and indecisive, enjoy anyway. 💕)

–

They approach the body and Rainer shoos away his pestering, hovering officers and --- winces once again at the sight of the bloodied woman. “This is the third body in two days; a jogger found her about 6 am. Coroner says she thinks she’s been dead for about 6 hours; killed in the middle of the night, just like the others.”

“Closer to five hours, I think,” Dr. Reid says, crouching down to look closer. All long legs and his gun looking too big on his belt next to his FBI badge. “Could still be within the Witching Hour, though.”

“Do you have accurate time of death estimates for the other two bodies?” Agent Morgan adds on, already picking up the train of thought Dr. Reid has started on. The detective pulls out an old-school flip notebook book and looks through it before answering.

“3:15am the first night, 9:30pm last night and now this.”

“Well that rules out hex, sacrifice, and spell gone wrong,” he concludes, as the other agents surround the body to inspect it from all angles. “So what are we thinking?”

“It’s a frenzied bite,” Agent Hotchner points out, looking from where he stands and not having to get as close as Dr. Reid to inspect it accurately. His eyesight is better than any microscope. “Shows multiple entries, it couldn’t get a good enough hold to rip her throat. Or she struggled, so it wasn’t strong enough to keep her pinned down.”

“The boys think it’s a Vamp,” Detective Rainer points out. “Maybe a baby one, still learning the ropes?”

“Vampire changes are regulated and no sire would allow whoever they turned to do this,” Agent Hotchner says, a colder flint to his voice that matches the way his dark stare cuts up to the detective. “No one has been turned in the United States in the past twelve years.”

“It’s not a Vampire bite,” Dr. Reid agrees, putting on latex gloves to further inspect the body and test the bite radius. “And it’s not a werewolf bite, either.”

“...Werewolf?” the detective says with a winded sound, eyes wide and looking to the three agents who didn’t even blink at the word. “There’s -- there’s such thing as werewolves?”

“Detective, I think you should let my team and I work, we will come to you with our findings and then help you track down your killer.” Agent Hotchner doesn’t leave room for argument, his dark brown eyes looking pitch black in the early morning light, and Detective Rainer… suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to walk away. Like he can’t breathe if he doesn’t comply; he fights it, tries to fight it, and feels his will crumble beneath him like a sand bank giving way under his feet. He turns, even that small gesture lessening the pressure crushing his chest, and takes a step away from the group, air swept into his lungs like a riptide. He makes a hasty retreat after that, winded as if he just ran up a flight of stairs and the sweet taste of oxygen being his only reprieve. He doesn’t know what happened, and wouldn’t upon further inspection until much, much later.

“That wasn’t very nice, Hotch,” Rossi points out with a look of glib reprimand towards their team leader. “I thought compelling feeble minded beat cops was for those who have no skills to avoid it.”

“My patience was running thin, and we need to move faster on this case before our unsub kills again. He’s escalating.” That much is obvious, by the timeline alone, but Father Rossi still gives him a side-ways glance that says he finds far too much amusement in the undead’s antics. “Reid, are you sure it’s not a werewolf bite? It would explain the lack of control and precision.”

“I’m sure,” Reid says with finality, and no one makes a mention on why. He had done more research than any human possibly could in the past few months on werewolf transformation and the after effects of attacks. With what happened to one of their former agents mere months ago, no one doubted his newly learned expertise. “It’s also not a shifter, or a ghoul. We can rule out ghost and poltergeist as well, no residue or temperature shifts.”

“Demon possession?” Morgan asks, looking to Rossi just as he does his customary Sign of the Cross at the mere mention. Can’t help the gesture, after his own past experiences. Giving anything the power of a name, even arbitrary, can be a dangerous thing.

“We can’t rule it out,” he admits. “The teeth marks are human, someone possessed would still have a hard time biting that deep and doing that much damage. Cannibalism is only reserved for the amusements of level three demons, however they aren’t usually powerful enough to reach the mortal plane or take possession of someone’s body. They would need help.”

“You really think someone would weaponize a demon like that?”

“We’ve seen people do worse things, as has history, but I’d like to hope it wouldn’t happen in my lifetime.”

“We need more information,” Hotch concludes, arms crossed and watching as Reid stands up and removes the blood stained gloves. “Morgan,” his gaze cuts to the tall man in his deep blue suit. “Can you walk the scene, tell us what you see?”

“Not with this many people around,” Morgan shakes his head, eyes glancing to every person within a twenty foot radius. “Too many readings, the aura field here looks like an oil spill. The only thing I can latch onto is…” his gaze is back on the ground, hovering over the dead woman, who would have no aura to speak of at all and therefore a blank canvas. He replaces Reid’s space, crouching down to touch the air over the bite wound. Fingers spread wide, less than a foot from her but not touching, palm suddenly curving as if over an invisible shoulder, the place where someone had once been not so long ago. It could have been the coroner, or the crime scene photographer, but with it being so close to the body -- chances were it was the unsub.

“They were crouched down, half on the ground, no… human thoughts that I can hear,” he says, closing his eyes and letting his hand glide through the air a little more, following the curve of someone’s spine and up their neck, resting where the head would be. “They have a fever burning them up, hot as a furnace--” he keeps his hand there too long, suddenly jerks it back as if it had physically burned him, then stands up again. Shaking off the aura reading still sticking to his fingers and the forefront of his mind. “Sound like anything you’ve heard of, pretty boy?”

Reid shakes his head, sharing a glance with Father Rossi. “We might have to go through some of your demonology books.” The older man grins wide.

“You just want to get your hands on them, at this rate you’ll have them memorized by next week.”

“Dave --” Hotch says slow, a reprimand of his own.

“Fine, fine, I’ll have Garcia send us some scans. If the Vatican knew I was putting a book like that in his hands they’d strip me of all my titles.”

“Didn’t they already do that?” Morgan teases with a grin.

“Ex-communicated. I got to keep the dog collar, the honorifics, bless the holy water, you know -- the party tricks.”

–

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#THIS IS JUST A SNIPPET #a really fucking long snippet but who's counting #I've missed WIP wednesdays #spooky season is upon us so I'm channeling that #a glimpse at how they handle cases that obviously don't look human #cw blood #cw murder #cw biting #paranormal stuff #sorry it's kind of all over the place but I got to play with Morgan's abilities and that was fun for me #Extraordinary #katyswriting #katyswip #wip wednesday #ALSO I DECIDED ON A POSTING DATE hope that doesn't bite me in the ass later lol

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