#this took me like....forty five minutes to answer and i regret nothing

[alovesongtheywrote]

Nightmare Academia P.19 | Spencer Reid x Reader

♥ Summary: In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, somebody dies, somebody leaves, and somebody ends up alone. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: criminal minds season 10, episode 13. Nelson's Sparrow.

♥ A/N: i remembered which episode this was off hand, im oddly proud lmao

♥ Word Count: 1847

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

Spencer didn’t think he would have to call in that favour you’d offered him.  He was pretty sure that when you sent a little text that said, “I owe you one,” you were joking.  He waved it off like you were joking.  When he told you not to mention the favour he had done, he’d meant it.  The two of you had spent the rest of the night joking because that was all it was supposed to be.

The favour, the owing, it was all supposed to be a joke.

Then Gideon died.

Nothing really seemed funny after that.

Spencer had to leave for a bit.  He needed to go, and join his team, and solve this murder.  He also had classes to teach.  He hoped you would help him out with that, though he hated having to ask.  You didn’t deserve this burden.  You hadn’t deserved it before, either, but you kind of took it on without asking.

Now, Spencer had to ask.

He didn’t want to do it.  Like, he really didn’t want to do it.  He ended up staring at your contact in his phone for a solid forty-five minutes waffling over what the fuck he could say in this situation.  

“My old friend and mentor was murdered last night.  I need to go find the man that did it.  Cover my cases for me while I’m gone, will you?”  Felt rude.  And harsh.  And like a crazy fucking load of information that you would definitely have questions about- and while he would normally love to answer your questions, Spencer- understandably- did not feel like answering questions about this specific topic.

A simple, “We need to talk,” was way too goddamn ominous.

“I need a favour,” could be taken all kinds of wrong ways.

Something like, “Heyyyyy, so, my old mentor died and I need to go find the man that did it.  Would you mind covering my classes for me until I come back, even if that takes actual months?  K thank u byeeeee,” just felt wrong.

“A close friend of mine just passed, and I need some time.  Can you cover my classes for me while I’m gone?” Was appropriate, but it left out so much- and for some reason, Spencer didn’t like the thought of lying to you.

So, he decided to tell you in person.  

And he had regrets about that decision almost immediately.

He ended up standing by the office door like a fucking creeper for a solid five minutes.  He didn’t move, he didn’t open the door, he didn’t knock, he didn’t say anything, he just sort of stood there thinking about what the fuck he was going to say to you.

And then the door creaked open for him.

You were sitting at the desk that you shared with him, buried so deeply in your work that you didn’t even hear the door open.  You didn’t look up.  You didn’t see Spencer.  You just typed away at the computer in front of you, marking papers and adding up grades.

You seemed oddly peaceful.  At ease.  Relaxed- at least as relaxed as you could be while grading.  Spencer briefly contemplated the idea of leaving you a note.

Before he could take off to find a pen and follow in his mentor’s footsteps, you finally saw him.  Your eyes lit up, they really did, but Spencer told himself he was seeing things.

“Good morning, Dr. Pretty Boy!” you stretched yourself out slightly, giving Spencer the impression that you’d been working for a while, “Ready for more bullshit?”

For a moment, despite everything, Spencer managed to find respite from his grief.  A smile crossed his features.  He laughed at your joke- and immediately, he felt guilty for it.  His eyes went from bright to broken in a split instant.  Tears welled up in their corners.  What fucking friend was Spencer?  Gideon hadn’t been dead for two days, and here he was, laughing with his cute coworker over some cute fucking quip.

The grief crashed over his body in waves.  Reid tried to hide it.  He looked away from you, covering his mouth with his hand and trying not to actually sob in the middle of your shared office.

You saw right through him.

“Oh, pretty boy,” your voice was a whisper, and as you darted into Spencer’s field of view, he could see the concern etched into your face.  Somehow, it made him feel worse.

“Hey, hey,” you tried to hide your own panic with soothing words, briefly wondering what the fuck you could’ve done to make him cry.  Your mind came up blank.  And really, if Spencer cried easily- if he cried the way you did- you were sure you would’ve broken him by now, but you hadn’t.

Honestly?  That was probably the worst option.  That meant something was wrong- and you probably wouldn’t fix that something with an apology and a cup of coffee.

Still.  You had to do your best.

“Reid?  Spencer, honey, talk to me,” you reached out, lightly placing your fingers on his elbow- enough touch to comfort, but hopefully not enough to make him uncomfortable.

He didn’t say anything, but for a moment, he looked at you.  His eyes were full of unshed tears.  You could feel your heart drop through you before it shattered somewhere deep inside.  Without another thought, your grip on Spencer’s arm changed from a light graze to an undeniable hold.

When you spoke, you sounded panicked.  You said his name and Spencer could practically feel it- like ice down his spine, like the feeling of falling just as your body goes to sleep.  Ironically, it woke him up.

“Gideon’s dead.”

You tried to find a response to that, but the words escaped you.  Mostly because you didn’t know who that was.  Spencer saw the confusion on your face, and with a deep breath, he offered you the kindness of elaboration.

“He was- he got me into the FBI.  He was important and now he’s dead.”

“Shit,” you brought your other hand up to hold his arm, “Spencer, I’m so sorry.”

“I have to go.  I have to find the person that did this.”

You tried to hide your shock at the revelation that Spencer’s friend hadn’t just died- Gideon had been murdered.  And Spencer wanted to solve the case.  

What choice did you have but to support him?  In his place, you would want to do the same thing- you just wouldn’t have the qualifications for it.  Spencer, however, was part of the FBI.  He could help solve this case, legally and responsibly.  You had to let him go.

“Then find them.  Don’t worry about your classes, I’ll cover them-”

“You-” he cut himself off with a broken laugh, “You didn’t even let me ask.”

“You don’t have to.  I know you would do the same for me- even if you wouldn’t, I like talking shit about the FBI to your students.  It’s fun for me, that's how I have fun.  Now go,” you let one of your hands run up his arm, “Get out of here, solve some crimes, and legally get whoever did this behind fucking bars.”

Spencer put one of his hands over yours.  You took the initiative and laced your fingers together.  The two of you stared for a moment, focusing on nothing but your joined hands.

“I’m sorry,” he broke the silence- not by much.  His voice wasn’t anything more than a whisper.

“Sorry?  For what?”

“For coming in here and crying all over you.”

“Hey, don’t apologize for that.  I cry all the time, remember?  I cry constantly.  I can start crying now, if you want me to-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he grinned, tracing tiny shapes into your skin with the tips of his fingers, “Thank you, though?  Is that the appropriate thing to say?  Thank you?”

“Thank you works for me.”

“Then, thank you.”

Silence flowed over you again, curling around your bodies like some sort of mist.  For a moment, the universe stilled, preserving the two of you in a tiny soundless bubble of space and time.

“Go kick some criminal ass, pretty boy.  Responsibly.  And then come back here, okay?”

“I will.  I promise.”

“Good.  Because otherwise, I will turn your students into my little minions, and you’ll never get them back.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With a final grin, you pulled back.  Spencer did the same.  You wound your arms around yourself and squeezed.  The air in the office dropped a few degrees.  Spencer’s hands twitched,  tapping a nervous pattern into his thigh.

“I’ll see you later, (L/N).”

He stepped back, moving slowly.  When he reached the doorway, he turned and headed down the hall at regular Spencer-speed.  You just stood in the office like an idiot.  For the second time that week, Reid had stunned you to silence.

The first time, when he brought your student’s paper to the community center, you were stunned by the kindness he displayed.  The Spencer you knew was usually smarmy petty little shit.  He had his moments (such as getting stabbed to protect you and sharing his office with you when yours got all haunted) but for the most part, he was a bit of a prick!

In that moment, though, Reid did something kind and considerate.  He took care of someone who needed it.  He reached out to a former inmate with compassion and empathy, and even though Reid had worked for the FBI, you wanted to bring him to the community center with you every goddamn Monday for the rest of time.  That little action had exposed his heart to you- and yeah, most people would argue that the whole “taking a knife” thing was a better demonstration of character, but for whatever reason, this was what stunned you.

The second time he’d stunned you, he’d done it by leaving, and lord, this time was worse.  This time the shock didn’t feel like butterflies swarming through your organs.  It felt like fear.  Like an unknown future was running at you with malevolent intent.

At one point, you had wanted this.  You wanted Spencer to leave, but now?  The fucker had carved out a space for himself right in the middle of your life.  He’d built a little niche between your fourth and fifth ribs and moved right into you.  You had functioned without him when he was in the hospital, but you had always figured he would come back.  This was an indefinite leave of absence.  This was an indefinite leave of absence after you had warmed to Spencer, after he had shown you (in multiple ways) that he could be kind.

You finally came back to your body, still feeling a slight numbness in your hands.  You moved to the doorway just in time to watch Reid turn around the corner and vanish from sight.  

“I’ll see you,” you said- though you weren’t loud enough for him to hear by any means, “Reid.”

Behind you, a couple books fell from their shelves.  You didn’t even flinch.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know :D

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #nightmare academia

[kirayaykimura]

The Art of Deception

The mission - which Shirayuki had chosen to accept after hardly any deliberation - was simple. Find the person attempting to sell a new poison that could kill in seconds, secure the poison and the seller, get the seller to explain how to make the poison, and figure out an antidote. She was currently on step one. 

This step would have been much easier if her informant hadn’t snuck out onto the balcony and then…off the balcony. 

“Well, that was selfish,” Obi said, peering over the ledge to see if the body of their best lead was possibly, in any way, able to get up and walk the forty story fall off. 

Obi was the actual spy on this mission. Shirayuki was decidedly not. She didn’t like it when other people lied to her and she was frankly terrible at lying to others. She was, however, an expert at plants and poisons, an area of expertise Obi did not possess. Thus, she was effectively a spy until she could shut herself away in a lab and get back to her normal life. 

“What should we do now?” Shirayuki asked. She peeked over the ledge as well and immediately regretted it. She’d seen a couple of cadavers in biology classes in college, but none had exploded in quite so gruesome a fashion as the one in front of her now. 

“We go back inside,” Obi said, ushering her away with a hand that never quite made contact with her back. “We move rooms. We let someone else call that in. And we go to the gallery opening tomorrow to start asking around.” 

–

Obi had sincerely meant the we part of that sentence. Almost immediately after entering the gallery a respectable forty-five minutes late-

“That’s not respectable,” Shirayuki said. They were already five minutes late and she was feeling anxious. 

“It absolutely is. You’re thinking of the word respectful, which it is not, but we’ll draw too much attention to ourselves if we’re the first ones there. People will talk if we camp out and watch the door.” 

-he abandoned her to chat up a woman who was slightly unsteady on her feet. Whether the wine in her hand or her heels were to blame was anybody’s guess, but Obi was ready to pounce on the possible opportunity of lowered inhibitions. He left Shirayuki with nothing but a wink and a mouthed, Talk to someone. 

She did. After a while. First, she had to get over the wrongness of striking up a conversation only for information. Then, it was hard to figure out how to steer the conversation away from the art in the gallery to anything useful. Are you trying to poison someone tonight? wasn’t exactly an icebreaker. 

Obi found her an untold amount of time later at a small cocktail table near the edge of the event, exhausted and rethinking her strategy. 

“Where have you been all night?” Obi asked, sidling up next to her from wherever he’d come from.

“Around,” she said after a pause. That felt like a safe answer. 

Ears are everywhere, Miss, Obi had warned her before they’d left their hotel room for the gallery earlier in the evening. His breath ghosted along the back of her neck, closer than necessary to clasp her necklace for her. He’d checked the room for bugs when they’d settled in, but couldn’t be too careful. All talk of the mission had been in hushed whispers and written on paper that Obi had immediately burned and flushed the ashes down the toilet. Be careful what you say out there.

“Around, hmm?” Obi asked. He leaned an elbow on the table, the backs of his fingers just barely brushing against her upper arm. “Meet anyone interesting while you were around?” 

“I did,” she said. “He used to run his own nursery, but he recently downsized to a personal garden after his grandson took over the business. He said he’d give me a cabbage if I stop by his farm sometime.” 

Obi slowly raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. 

“Oh, you meant-” Shirayuki started, then said, “No. No one interesting.” 

“You’ve only spoken to an old farmer and dull people.” 

“He wasn’t old. He had life experience.” 

“I’m starting to think I may have some competition. What will I do when you decide to run off with him and leave me here all alone.” 

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“Good, because your boy is flush with cash. I bet your farmer can't provide for you like I can."

"What?"

"Someone mistook me for the valet and gave me five bucks." Obi took a five dollar bill out of his jacket pocket and waved it around like something to be proud of. "People just don’t carry cash like they used to, nor do they tip. Other than that, I’ve met no one nearly as interesting as you, either.” 

She was sure that wasn’t true. Everyone could be interesting if you dug a little. For the sake of playing along with wherever he was going with this conversation, she stayed silent. 

“I did, however, see a couple around the corner that I could use your help meeting. Word has it that they like chatting with younger couples.” 

Shirayuki stared blankly at him. 

“Here, you-” Obi looked down at her neck, then peered behind her. “Your necklace seems to be caught in your hair a little. Let me fix that for you.” 

She couldn’t feel anything caught, and her suspicions were proven to be accurate when Obi stepped behind her and immediately whispered, “Everyone here now thinks we’re engaged. It'll help move things along. Go with it?” 

“How did you manage to tell everyone so quickly?” was Shirayuki’s only question. 

“You’d be surprised how many people want to hear stories of young love.” 

A moment later, a ring was sliding on her finger under the table.

Breaking character for a short moment, she asked as quietly as possible, “Where did you get this?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Obi said. A gold band on his own finger caught the light as he brought his hand up to cup her cheek in his palm. He held her gaze for a long moment, then said, “I missed you.” 

Shirayuki knew what she would do. Botanist Shirayuki who saw the inside of a lab more than her own apartment would lean as far away as possible. She might even flee the event altogether. Undercover Shirayuki, engaged to a man she’d met two days ago and long enough ago that they were engaged by now, she decided, should do the opposite. She tilted her face into the inside of Obi’s wrist and leaned as if she wanted to settle in, to let him hold her up for the rest of the night just like this. In return, he swept his thumb across her cheekbone in soft half-circles. 

After a moment, Obi let his hand trace along the side of her neck and down her arm, twining their fingers together and leaving goosebumps along her skin his wake. 

“Come on,” he said with a gentle squeeze to her hand. “Let’s go talk to some people about some art.” 

#obiyukimadness24 #undercover as lovers #full disclosure i wrote half a first draft on a moving train and finished it today with a raging fever #if it is incoherent in any way that would be why #my fic #snow white with the red hair

[adammilligan]

i love your blog (and midam of course) ❤❤❤ and i just wanted to ask, in your opinion, what are the fav places they enjoy visiting all across the universe? mike being an archangel, we could take them on the sun if he wanted to but the earth is very pretty and fun so... what is there top 5 places?? (sorry for the silly question haha)

thank you so much!!!! and hmm that’s tricky because i feel like they’d travel anywhere and everywhere just because they can, since they’d love the feeling of just being free and unrestricted to do whatever. so here are my ideas for their “favorite” places!! 5. parks! i feel like they’d love parks a lot—think like yellowstone national park or zion national park! i feel like they’d like to be around nature (i think that a thousand years with only michael for company would leave adam a little bit off when it comes to social interaction with others, at first, so he’d be taking it easy for a bit), and that michael would probably especially like the view from the top of mountain peaks and such; seeing as he commented on the unhealthiness of things like greasy diner hamburgers, i wouldn’t be surprised if he’d also comment on the bad air quality that cities can have, which adam can agree with, so they take lots of hikes and visit lots of parks! (and adam jokingly starts looking for bigfoot and accidentally comes across a wendigo or something, but that’s a story for another time) 4. the ocean! i highly doubt that adam’s ever seen the ocean before, it was only him and his mother and she was always working at the hospital, and i really doubt that adam ever left minnesota until he went to the university of wisconsin because of that. so i think that he’d love the ocean, because it’s something entirely new that he’s never seen before and he’d probably think that it’d be fun to try to find crabs on the beach and stuff. it’d also be funny if michael saw the ocean and got...noah’s ark flashbacks or something lmao. but i think that michael would find the ocean more interesting from a different perspective, let’s say...the bottom? so he just flies them both way down into the ocean (since adam doesn’t technically need to breathe, and michael would protect him from all the pressure at the bottom) and they look at all the freaky looking fish and adam’s biology major brain goes into overdrive, having a blast, and meanwhile michael’s staring at something like the stargazer fish and being all “father...for what purpose did you create something like this....” 3. as boring as it sounds, i honestly think michael and adam would have a lot of fun at religious places, especially those that are dedicated to michael (think like the mont-saint-michel abbey in france or the sanctuary of monte sant’angelo in italy), solely because there’s probably a lot of misinterpretations about michael that humans have and adam thinks it’s so funny for someone to make a claim about michael and michael’s just right next to him going “that is!!! not correct!!!!!!!!! where did you even get that from!!!!!!!!” and also just looking at all the paintings of what they think michael looks like and adam trying to coax michael into shapeshifting to match the faces in the paintings for shits and giggles or something. and also i think they’d like it because of the architectural design (adam would, at least) and michael would view the places as something nostalgic that reminds him of heaven back when it was at its mightiest.  2. i’ll say it a million times if i need to—space! i’m about 98% sure michael would do something to cheer adam up like telling him to close his eyes and then when adam opens them again they’re on mars. they’d go find a planet a billion light-years away and adam starts literally cheering when they find water on it. michael stills the rings around a planet enough for them to sit on said rings and watch a supernova happening right in front of their eyes. it’d probably blow adam away, and michael likes seeing him happy and he also likes the reminder that even if god is solely focused on humanity there’s still so much more that he’s created that’s beautiful as well. if they ever get an apartment somewhere adam absolutely collects little pebbles from these other planets and lines them up on a windowsill or something like that. michael doesn’t quite understand why, when he could just fly them back to the planet at any time, but adam wants to and it brings him happiness so he settles for joining him in his little rock collection. 1. truthfully, i can’t come up with a number one, because i really do think that adam and michael would pretty much find any place great to hang out as long as they get to experience it together—adam finds more joy in spending time with michael than he does actually visiting any place, and michael finds more joy in spending time with adam than he does viewing all the little human things on earth. they could probably spend another thousand years in another small town like windom and be entirely content just to be around each other; it’s what makes their interactions so fun to watch: they just genuinely like being around each other!!! they very clearly could’ve gone their own ways after they left the cage, and they didn’t because they care about each other!!! and visiting any place with someone you love being around instantly makes it 100x better. :)

#WOW THAT WAS SO LONG SORRY ABOUT THAT #this took me like....forty five minutes to answer and i regret nothing #but anyways yeah i love them #midam #asks

[messers-moony]

Accepted | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Wife!Reader

Summary: Five craves nothing more than to be accepted and loved by his siblings. That doesn’t appear to happen when he time travels back to 2019 after disappearing for seventeen years.

Five had never seen anyone so beautiful before. Even in the apocalypse, she was gorgeous. He knew it wasn’t because they were the only ones left either. She had his heart from the moment they accidentally ended up in the apocalypse together.

Y/n was a normal girl, an ordinary girl. She had no powers, completely powerless. It just so happens she was walking down the sidewalk and brushed shoulders with Five, which brought her with him.

He couldn’t be mad at her. It wasn’t her fault that they had brushed shoulders. He should’ve been more careful. Y/n was a shy and skittish girl. Not very talkative. It took her a week to use her voice after being thrown into the end of the world.

Despite Five’s commonly inpatient nature, he was extremely patient with her. She was all he had now, and he felt completely comfortable with her. It took a year for her to open up to him, to trust him finally.

She told him all about school and what it was like while Five listened intently. He loved listening to her talk about normal kid activities, things he never got to participate in. Y/n promised him once they got back to save the world, no matter how old, they’d do those things together.

The girl had a certain aura around her that just made him smile. After five years, they were inseparable. Five couldn’t imagine life without her. He couldn’t fathom how he lived without her. He could tell her anything and didn’t fear of being judged.

He had been strong for so long, but not he didn’t have to be anymore. He could let loose and be himself, whether it was being playful, cheerful, upset, or angry. He could be him, and that’s all that mattered to him.

At the age of twenty, they decided to date, knowing it’d be a risk but a risk well taken because Five proposed at the age of twenty-five. Obviously, getting married wasn’t really an option. Nevertheless, he always thought of her as Y/n Hargreeves. His pride and joy.

At the age of forty-one, they were both taken into the commission– a job they both loathed. However, in order to get back to their time, it had to be done. Every night after a mission or a long day, Five would snuggle up Y/n’s chest and sob.

It became a daily routine for the next four and a half years. Every night Five would cry. He missed everything and hated everything. He regretted not listening. He hated the killing. He missed his siblings. Y/n would sit and listen while rubbing his back.

She thought for sure that his siblings missed him. Oh, how wrong she was. She found that out when they returned back to their timeline. Both lovers had fallen to the ground back in their thirteen-year-old bodies.

“ Does anyone else see Little Number Five and a little girl, or is that just me? “ A male queried as five people peered at the two.

Y/n and Five both got up from the ground looking down at their attire. Their clothes were ten times too big for them now. Five appeared to look just as young as he did forty-five years ago, and so did Y/n. Five couldn’t help but smile at her gorgeous appearance that he hadn’t seen in years. She was beautiful at all ages, but he was particularly fond of her teenage form, as was she of him.

“ Shit. “ Five muttered as he walked past them, and Y/n followed.

Five led her into the Hargreeves manor. It was a huge house, one that consisted of too many bedrooms and bathrooms for one person. He held her hand tight, and he stood at the end of the table. At the same time, his siblings piled around the table.

“ What’s the date? The exact date. “ Five’s voice was stern as he began making food, “ The 24th. “ A brunette female responded.

“ Of what? “ Five asked, annoyed, “ March. “ She replied again.

“ Good. “ Five said, opening the loaf of bread.

“ Are you gonna introduce us to your lady friend? “ The male from earlier questioned, and Y/n took refuge behind Five.

Five sighed as he pulled her next to him, letting his arm rest upon her waist, “ This, is Y/n Hargreeves. “

“ Hargreeves? Is she dad’s biological child, or was there another child we didn’t know about? “ The big male quizzed, and Five smirked, looking up at his siblings, “ Or perhaps the most obvious conclusion, but you guys aren’t smart enough to see what’s right in front of you. “ Five insulted, which made Y/n lightly hit him.

“ She’s my wife. “ The boy summarized, kissing her cheek, “ Wife?! You guys are thirteen. “ A woman in a blue shirt interjected.

“ Ignore that. What just happened outside? “ A large male queried as Five continued to make his food, “ It’s been 17 years. “

Five scoffed, “ It’s been a lot longer than that. “

Gently Five removed his arm from Y/n’s waist, and spatial jumped behind Luther to grab something. Y/n was hesitant but took a seat on the counter as her husband's siblings stared her down

“ I haven’t missed that. “ The big male murmured, “ Where’d you go? “ Questioned a male in all black.

“ The future. It’s shit, by the way. “ Five replied as he spatial jumped from getting his marshmallows and back to the front of the table, “ Called it! “ The skinny male exclaimed

“ I should’ve listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing. “ The teen began as he looks through the fridge, “ Jumping through time is a toss of the dice. “

The boy looked up from what he was doing and took his sibling's appearances in, the ones he missed dearly but saw all dead. If you were Y/n, you could see his green eyes glass over. But if you were the Hargreeves siblings, you saw a heartless and cold teenage boy.

“ Nice dress. “ He complimented, “ Oh, well, danke! “ The skinny male exclaimed.

“ Wait, how did you get back? “ Asked the anxious brunette, “ In the end, I had to project our consciousnesses forward into a suspended quantum state version of ourselves that exists across every possible instance of time. “ Five answered.

“ That makes no sense. “ Blurted the black-wearing male, “ Well, it would if you were smarter. “ Five smirked.

“ Five, stop. They’re trying to understand. You probably sound insane. “ Y/n spoke up for the first time since coming back, “ Oh, I like her. “ The skinny male chuckled.

“ I’m Klaus. “ He introduced, “ Pleasure. “ Y/n greeted with a smile.

The strong male looked baffled, “ How long were you two there? “

Y/n sighed, “ Forty-Five years. Give or take. “ Five answered, “ So what are you saying? That you two are 58? “ He questioned again.

“ Our consciences are 58, apparently our bodies are 13 again. “ The teen boy answered, “ Wait, how does that even work? “ Questioned the brunette again.

“ He got the equations wrong. Meaning his math was off, bringing us back into the same bodies we left in. “ Y/n softly explained as Five ate his food.

“ Guess I missed the funeral. “ Five said as he picked up a newspaper on the table, “ How’d you even know about that? “ Asked the large male.

“ What part of the future do you not understand? “ Five barked, “ Heart failure, huh? “

“ Yeah/No. “ Contradicting answers.

“ Nice to see nothings changed. “ Five said, clicking his tongue, walking away.

“ Uh, that’s it? That’s all you have to say? “ Questioned the curly-haired woman asked the boy who was walking away.

“ What else is there to say? It’s the circle of life. “ Five said now out of the room and into the rest of the mansion.

“ Well, that was interesting. “ The big male concluded.

Y/n sighed, “ I’m sorry for him. The past few years for him haven’t been the greatest. Just know he cares about you guys. “

“ I’m Vanya. “ Smiled the anxious brunette, “ And that’s Allison, Luther, and Diego. Klaus interjected earlier. “ Vanya introduced, pointing at each member.

“ Nice to meet you all. I’m going to go find Five. “ Y/n smiled as she walked away.

It took a couple of minutes, but she eventually found what seemed to be like their bedrooms. Only one door was shut, so she knocked hesitantly on it. Sniffles were heard on the other side.

“ Five, it’s me. “ Her voice was serene and quiet, “ Come in. “ His voice was muffled through the door.

Her hand turned the door handle, and she walked inside. Gently she shut the bedroom door and locked it, knowing he hated people seeing him vulnerable. Y/n turned to see him sitting on his bed with his elbows resting on his knees, hands on his face crying.

She knelt in front of him, taking his hands into her own, “ They don’t care. “ Were the first words muttered from his mouth, “ They do care. They’re just confused. “ Y/n replied.

He shook his head and sat on the floor in her embrace, sobbing, “ It’s going to be okay, Five. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. “ Y/n reassured as she ran her hands through his hair.

She felt a gentle kiss being laid on her shoulder, knowing it was his way of acknowledging what she said. After minutes passed, he had stopped crying and instead fell asleep, right in his lover's arms where he was always accepted.

#five x reader #five x you #five x y/n #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves x y/n #five hargreeves fluff #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves imagine #number five x you #number five x y/n #number five x reader #number five #tua netflix #tua memes #tua five #tua fanfic #tua au #tua x reader #tua #the sparrow academy #the umbrella academy

[takenbyheartstrings]

Project Parker | peter parker.

part one: IN YOUR EYES || series masterlist

[ enemies! peter parker x fem!reader || warnings. fluff & swearing, sexual innuendo || wc.  ]

a/n. WELCOME TO MY NEW SERIES <3 i hope you enjoy reading this!!

YOU WERE SAT AT YOUR desk in class as MJ wrote in her notebook. She looked over at you, as you looked over at Peter Parker to which she was having a staring contest with as he walked through the door, he flashed her a smirk, “Y/n! Looking great today, I just love it when people embrace their flaws.” He chuckles before going to sit down, you hold your foot out as the boy trips, looking at you with a slight fire to his gaze.

You chuckled, “Oops,” You pouted your lips giving him a sorry look, but it wasn’t true. You didn’t like Peter and he didn’t like you. You don’t know when you started hating Peter. Maybe it was when he started being better than you at certain things. When you got bumped down to second in the class?

Your teacher coughs trying to get the classes gaze away from you and Peter, “Okay, we’re doing a science project!” She smiles cheerily, “Now, this is going to be different this time, I’m partnering you up,” The whole class groans angrily.

“Don’t expect me to be lenient either, okay,” Miss Grundle claps her hands together, “Uh first up we have Flash Thompson and Ned Leeds.” Ned looks like he could just about shit himself.

“Michelle Jones and Harrison Osborn.” Harry smiles and winks as Michelle rolls her eyes even if she has the slightest of crushes.

The teacher reads through the rest of the names and then you notice that everyone has paired up except for you and one other person your eyes meet Peter’s like they did at the beginning of the class. “NO!” You practically scream, “No! No! NO!”

“Miss Grundle!” MJ speaks up, “It’s really not a good idea, she hates him and he hates her. I don’t know if you’ve picked up on that.”

Peter smirks, “Am I really that repulsive?” he asks nobody in-particular, “But if it’s any consultation, Miss Grundle, I say ‘No! No! NO!’ too.” He mocks your voice.

You roll your eyes, and open your mouth but Miss Grundle interrupts, “No, no’s.” She hisses, “You guys are partners, this is your problem now.”

The two of you had to discuss the project, but you sat there drawing and he sat there staring at the clock waiting for the godawful task to be over. But you couldn’t wait out the awkward silence anymore. The two of you had to discuss something otherwise the you would fail.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you asked Peter suddenly.

His eyes went wide at your choice of words, “Woah! Okay, uh…” You chuckled at the way he was flustered.

“What? Can’t handle the word fuck?” You questioned him getting in close, whispering the word in his ear, “Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.” You spoke as his cheeks went a deep crimson red.

“No, no! I just-” The poor boy cuts himself off, “Let’s just focus on the project. Did you have any ideas?”

You blew a raspberry and you rolled your eyes, “No.”

He grins, his smile full of that sarcasm that you just loved, “Keep rolling your eyes and maybe, just maybe you’ll find a brain back there. I can’t make any promises though,”

You go to roll your eyes once more, but you catch yourself in the act, “Whatever,” You mumbled, “Maybe we could take something simple and put a twist on it. I mean, it is science, we can mix whatever we want and make an explosion.”

Peter looks at you thoughtfully, “I don’t think that’s how it-”

The bell cuts him off and as he goes to continue what he was going to say, so does your voice, “Look, Parker, we’ll go to the library after school,”

The boy sighs, hating himself for what he’s about to offer, “Why don’t you come over?” He asks you, “My place is closer than the library. That’s like a forty minute walk, fifteen minute drive. Mine’s only a five minute walk away.”

You stand up and made your way toward the door, stopping before you could exit, “If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you’re trying to get me in bed.” And with that you finally left the room, leaving Peter to blush once more.

At the end of the day you met Peter by his locker, you got stares but you waved them off, he opened his locker and you were met with the sight of a little lego man, a whiteboard and a whole load of notebooks and like three backpacks. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. You just observed. Peter finally shut his locker, and swung his backpack over his shoulder. He started walking and you took that as a signal to follow, your pink and white air max’s pressing onto the floor. The two of you didn’t speak on the way to his house, nor on the way up the stairs or as you walked into his room. It was odd seeing it. He had a bunk bed, you didn’t know what for since he was an only child.

Maybe for when Ned sleeps over? You thought to yourself.

He had multiple Star Wars posters on his walls and a desk covered in papers and notebooks and more backpacks were sat in next to it. How many backpacks does this kid have? What didn’t help you was the fact that they were all the same, same style, same colour. You didn’t speak on it though, if the kid collects backpacks, he collects backpacks.

Peter was sat on his desk chair and noticed you just standing there, doing nothing, but before he could say anything you took a seat on his plaid sheets. Looking around the room you made eye-contact with his things, his trinkets. His LEGO Star Wars figures. You had only ever talked to Peter in class so when you were in his room it made it seem all different and weird, you felt squirmy sitting in here. Like you couldn’t.

“So we should start on the project, right?” Peter questioned you.

“Uh,” Was the only thing that came out of your mouth. You looked over at the door and picked up your black and white backpack and stormed out of his apartment. You didn’t know what was happening you but you couldn’t sit in there anymore. You couldn’t deal with looking at Peters things, the things that make him more than someone you just made snarky and mean remarks to.

Peter followed you down the stairs, “Y/N WHERE ARE YOU GOING WE NEED TO DO THE PROJECT.” By the time he made it down the stairs he saw you sitting next to the stairs in front of his building. Your head in your knees.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, you didn’t know what to say to him and he didn’t know what to do. So he sat down next to you and put his hand on your shoulder, and he expected you to shrug it off - but you didn’t.

“I’m sorry.” You speak, and he looks sort of surprised, he never expected you to ever say it. The girl who had picked on him for so long even when he started picking on her back, “Look, I’ve just- I- I never,” You didn’t know how to speak, “I was always jealous of you. You get good grades, you’re cute, you always know what to say, have the right answers. You’re just perfect.”

“Did you just call me, cute?” Peter laughed, and you whacked him softly.

“Shut up,” You smiled softly.

He returned the soft grin, “I could say the same thing,” Your grin got slightly wider, as you looked down at your hands. “Let’s truce.” Peter speaks up.

“Really?” You questioned him, “Don’t you hate me?”

“Look, Y/N, you’ve never been anything but rude, or mean, or snarky. But, I never actually hated you.” Peter talks, “Everything you said about me, I could say about you - I think the reason we always hated each other was because of everything that we have in common, so let’s think about what we don’t have in common and go from there, maybe we can actually be friends.”

“Okay,” You smiled, “Let’s be friends.” You stood up, “So let’s think of this as our project first and then we can do the actual project. We’ve got weeks.”

“That’s probably cause the project is supposed to take weeks.” Peter retorts.

“Shut up, Parker!” You laughed.

When the two of you got back up to Peter’s room, you took a seat on his bed once more, all of a sudden it wasn’t scary anymore. It didn’t seem like the world was closing in around you as you looked around.

“So let’s start, clearly, your favourite movie is Star Wars - mine is Now You See Me, there’s something about hot magicians that turns me on. Does Leia do the same to you or?” You comment with a smirk.

Peter’s eyes go wide at your comment, “I- uh- I’m-”

“Relax, Parker, I’m kidding.” You lay back on his plaid sheets, smiling up at the ceiling.

You and Peter start brainstorming ideas of what you could do, building off of what you had said earlier, something simple with a twist on it. It seemed like a good plan, but simplicity is often the hardest thing to do. You sighed as you looked up at the wood planks of the bunk bed, you don’t catch it but your eyes start to close, until they do and you doze off, falling asleep. You hadn’t noticed it but night had fallen over New York, and then you woke up, Peter nowhere to be found. You were still in your clothes from the school day, but your hair was fucked up and there was mascara and lipgloss smudged on your face, a blanket was over you though, a blanket that wasn’t there earlier. However, your breath tasted foul.

You stood up feeling slightly lightheaded as you saw the texts from your mother on your phone from not too long ago, 10mins it read next to her name, so you clicked on the contact and called her.

“Hey mum, sorry I’ll be home soon I just fell asleep at MJ’s is all.” You explained, you didn’t want to tell your mum you were at a boy’s place. Especially Peter’s, after you talk your mouth off about how much you hated him.

Your mum lets out a sigh of relief, “Okay good, I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.” You can hear her smile through the phone.

You picked up your black and white backpack for the second time that evening, walking out the door to be met with a lady with large frames on her eyes, “Who are you?” She asks, “I knew Peter told me he had someone over, now I know why he wouldn’t tell me who.”

“My names Y/N,” You told her almost regretting it when her jaw dropped.

“OH MY GOD, no way, you’re the last person I expected to see here, Peter never shuts up about how much he hates you, honestly, I think he has a crush on you. I’m also his aunt May by the way,”

You laugh at her rambling, “Well, I’m the last person I’d expect to see here too, but Miss Grundle put us together for a project.” May nodded, “Speaking of Peter where is he? I wanna say bye before I leave.”

She tenses a little, but then relax’s, “He’s at the store buying us a chicken, because I can’t cook to save my life.” She smiles, “You’re welcome to stay.” She offers but you shake your head.

“My mum is expecting me home, so I’ve gotta go, but thank you.” You smile kindly.

“Well, maybe next time then,” She returns a smile.

“Yeah, next time.” You walk out of the apartment, closing the door behind you, you didn’t know why you felt so happy but you did.

You and Peter Parker were friends and you were happy about it.

#Peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader imagines #peter parker #peter parker x reader imagine #peter parker x reader one shot #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker smut

[bbyboibinnie]

comfort zone

synopsis: all your life you’ve tried your best to maintain a regular routine and comfortable life. during your last year as a senior though, everything changed and suddenly you were pushed out of your comfort zone. pairing: bang chan x fem!reader genre: high school au, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, little cliche but you gotta have some cliche stories in your life sometimes warning: mild swears wc: 11.8k a/n: this has not yet been proofread so my apologies for any errors! hope you enjoy nonetheless!

The hand on the clock was ticking excruciatingly slow. You’d been eyeing it for the last 10 minutes, trying to count down the time before math would finally wrap up and you could speed your way towards the cafeteria before everyone else began to flood in. It’s been like this for the last three, ongoing four years. You and your small group of friends had managed to secure a table in freshman year and that had been the hang out spot every day during the forty minute lunch period, which was frankly way too short. On most days, you spent half of those forty minutes waiting in line for the overpriced food that was barely considered edible. 

Nonetheless, right as the bell rang you were already out your seat and past the door. Other students were scrambling into the cafeteria and you picked up the pace to reach the line. You were squished between the person in front and behind you and if it weren’t for the massive backpacks acting as barriers, you’d be disgusted by the close contact. 

“I was wondering what took you so long.” Seungmin noted as you reached the wooden bench. 

“I know, it took even longer than usual to get this plate of god-knows-what,” you poked at the crusty pile of what looked to be pasta on your plate. “Those idiots kept cutting and of course the principle who stood there didn’t bat an eyelash as it happened right under his nose.” 

Seungmin shook his head and popped open the bag of chips he got from the vending machine. “The joys of high school right?” 

“Thank gosh this is our last year here.” 

“Amen to that.” You clinked your juice box with his and munched on the mediocre pasta, joining in on the card game the others had started. 

“Oh I forgot, we have that rally thing today don’t we?” Your other friend—Lia—brought up. 

“What rally?” You put down a queen and relished in victory as the others reshuffled the deck. 

“The one for the football players or something right? We’ve been going to this school for the last three years and we don’t even know.” What Lia said was very true. Before you had started high school, your parents and basically every adult you talked to said to ‘make the most out of your high school years’ and ‘get the full experience.’ Frankly, you just had your head set on getting that diploma at this point because after a while, everything has just felt more draining and repetitive, including today’s rally. 

“I guess there will be less class time then.” You shrugged, reaching out to grab the cards and continue the next round.

———

“I don’t get it.” 

“Don’t get what?” Seungmin said, turning to face you. 

“Why football is so hyped at our school. I mean at other schools I get it because they actually win, but haven’t we just been losing all season?” The rally had been going on for over half an hour and another yawn escaped your lips. 

“Yeah, I’ve been to every game and the best we got was a tie. Anyways, there’s only a handful of games left before this season ends. You should come.” 

“And remind me why I should?” The two hosts of the rally were trying to hype the crowd up and you had to stifle laughter as the person in the mascot costume came out from behind the bleachers. Did they ever wash that costume? It must’ve reeked of sweat in that thing; yoed at the thought.

“Because you’ve never gone before? I know sports isn’t really your thing, or any after school activity for that matter, but it’s high school. You gotta experience it at least once.” Seungmin reasoned, pulling at your arm. 

“I mean, you said they’ve been losing. I’m not going to pay and spend like two hours watching our school lose for the nth time.” The person in the costume was making rounds around the field now, starting a wave with the crowd. 

“Okay, what if I pay for your ticket then?” 

“But those two hours of of precious time will be wasted—“

“They have snacks there. Popcorn, churros, corn dogs, and your favorite and mine—fried oreos.” Events always sounded more appealing when food was involved, but you were hesitant. “C’mon please y/n? For me?” Seungmin was doing those puppy eyes with the pout to your dismay. Out of all the years you’ve known him, you could never turn him down whenever he gave you that look. 

“Fine! But you’re paying for the food too.” 

“Deal.” 

————

Seungmin had arrived at your house at six thirty on the dot and you slipped on your shoes before shouting to your parents that you were leaving. When you had told them that you were going out, especially to attend the football game, they had been surprised then elated. Your parents were the kind that always tried to encourage you to get out of your comfort zone and enjoy new things, and considering you were a major homebody, this was a pretty big step out the bubble of comfort if you had to say so yourself.

“Wow I’m impressed, you even wore the school colors.” He said as you got in the car, eyeing your outfit. 

“I mean if I’m going, might as well go all out right?” You ended up wearing the school hoodie with a white pleated skirt, the best part were the streaks of eyeshadow—red and gold—you had on your cheeks (no face paint because you didn’t have any on hand). 

“Exactly, now let’s go, I want to be there early so we get good seats.” He stepped on the gas and you were on your way back to school, something you’d never thought you do after hours. 

“Y/n pick it up, I can see a spot in the front row but someone else is gonna to snatch it if you keep you with that snail pace.” He looked back at you from atop the stairs of the bleachers. 

“Well it’s not my fault you won’t help me carry all of this food!” You gave him an exasperated look as you tried to balance the drinks, snacks, and napkins all in your hand. 

“Listen, I bought it so you do the heavy lifting and labor alright? Now let’s go.” He pulled on your arm and the corn dog nearly slipped out your hand as you tried to keep up with Seungmin. 

You gave out an annoyed huff as you sat down, right in the front row just like how Seungmin wanted. The feeling of the cool metal bleacher sent a chill up your spine and the bitter autumn wind wasn't helping ease the cold. You were starting to regret wearing that skirt. 

“We’re here, happy? Now take your food before I eat it all myself.” You rolled your eyes and handed him his share of the food while he excitedly starred off towards the field. The players were warming up and the opponents were off to the side, huddled with their coach. 

You looked back at the people in the stands and the seats were packed. To be honest, you were just shocked that this many people showed up to watch even though the team had a losing streak. There were adults, schoolmates, little kids, and —someone even brought their dog. It seemed like everyone was eager for the game to start and although this wasn’t something you ever thought you’d do on a Friday night, you were one of the eagerly anticipating spectators in the stands too. 

From beside you, Seungmin kept looking around the field, as if he were looking for something. You were puzzled at this but didn’t bother questioning him because wow, the fried oreos were delicious. 

“Aye Chan!” Your friend shouted; he was sitting so close that it felt like he had screamed directly into your year. His loud voice managed to catch the attention of one of the players on the field as the boy with the number 97 on his jersey turned around and jogged towards where you and Seungmin were seated. 

“Seungmin, you made it today!” The boy reached out over the fence that separated the crowd from the field to greet Seungmin and you were both confused and surprised at the sight. Seungmin knew one of the football players? Not just one of them but the football player Chan? Team captain Chan? You were with Seungmin five days a week at school and it had never occurred to you that he knew anyone on the team, much less the captain.

“Why are you so surprised? I come to every game.” He was leaning on the fence as he talked to Chan. 

“Did you come alone again?” You tried not to eavesdrop but it was impossible when they were speaking directly in front of you. 

“Nah, I actually convinced a friend of mine to come with me today for once. Y/n!” He shouted your name which made you look up in shock while in the midst of stuffing your face with fried food. Seungmin shook his head and grimaced at the sight. “Sorry, she usually isn’t this uncollected.” 

You gave a slight wave towards the two and swiped the crumbs off your cheeks. This was so embarrassing, Seungmin was going to get an earful from you after this. 

“Nice to meet you!” Chan shouted, smiling at your direction. You nodded and awkwardly tried to return the smile before giving up and going back to all the fried goodness that the snack stand had to offer. 

They probably talked for another ten minutes before Chan jogged off to join his teammates and  Seungmin came back to his seat where you immediately proceeded to throw questions at him. 

“You know Bang Chan? How do you know him?” 

“Yes, I do know him and we’ve known each other fo—“

“I’ve been your friend for so long, how come I didn’t know you were friends with the captain of the football team?!” 

“Well, I do have other friends outside of our friendship grou—“

“Wait, I’m still your best friend though right?”

“Oh my god, y/n yes. We have been friends since elementary and nothing changes tha—“

“Seungmin, answer my questions!” 

“I’m trying but you keep cutting me off.” He said which shut you right up. “Anyways, yes I know Chan. His mom and my mom are super close so we just started hanging out when our parents were together, that’s why you never saw me with him at school. And you’re my best friend and will continue to hold that title. No football player is going to take that title away from you.” You smiled in relief at the last part. 

“Is that why you go to all their games?”

“Well yes, but I also genuinely enjoy the atmosphere of these events.” 

“Ahh, as expected from the extrovert himself. I’m truly amazed how we’re best friends.” This thought had come to your mind on numerous occasions. Seungmin had that happy-go-lucky type of personality, always smiling and being the social butterfly while you were on the quieter, more pessimistic end of the scale. If it weren’t for the fact that you guys were assigned seats next to each other in the third grade, you don’t know if you two would’ve ever crossed paths otherwise. You’d have to thank your third grade teacher someday for doing you a massive favor with that seating chart. 

“They say opposites attract y’know?” Seungmin threw an arm over your shoulder and annoyingly ruffled your hair—you felt like he was an older brother you never had sometimes. You swatted his hands away and tried to fix your hair. 

“Can you stop doing that? You know I actually tried putting effort into my hair today righ—“ 

“Y/n shut up, the game is about to begin.” He shushed you as the band began to play and you begrudgingly stopped talking.

After the dramatic applause and cheers died down, the teams got into position and soon enough the game had started. You had never actually seen a game before, only seeing snippets of them in television dramas or in books, so you didn’t understand the penalties or all the ins and outs. Regardless, you watched silently for the most part and clapped when others did. 

It was halftime and the scores were not looking so hot. You had finished your drinks and snacks long before and was starting to wish you’d stay home because this game was turning out to be another bust—-as you had expected. 

“Seungmin, I’m getting bored. I tried being optimistic and hoped for a win but we are down by so many points.” You pouted as you looked at the scoreboard—five to twelve. 

“Aw c’mon y/n, it’s only half way through. Anything could happen in the other half.” He made a good point but it was not making you have any more hope than before. “Hey, why don’t you try cheering for them in the next half? Maybe if we cheer louder and give them even more support, they’ll do better. I gotta say, your half hearted clapping is not very effective.” You playfully elbowed him in the stomach for that remark. 

“If you say so, but if I scream at the top of my lungs and they still end up losing, I’m never going to another one of these games.” 

————

The game had continued on after the short half time break and it seemed like your school was finally gaining points. It was neck and neck and everyone was on the edge of their seats by the time the last quarter of the game rolled around. 

You had been so enticed with the game that you didn’t realize how late it was getting. You had arrived at six thirty and it was almost reaching the two hour mark. The sun had completely set by now and the field was being illuminated by the massive lights and whatever little light the stars and the moon  in the sky were giving off. 

“Not going to lie, we are doing better than I had expected.” Seungmin commented during the break session in between the quarters.

“Really? Are you telling me this is the team on a good day then?” You asked incredulously. The scores were so close but the opponents were still leading by a few. 

“Sadly, yes this is a good day for us. Let’s just give it our all with the cheers for the last round and hope they win.” And almost as if on cue, the whistle blew and the players were back in their positions. 

“Wooo!! C’mon guys!” You hollered as loud as you could. Then the ball was tossed and the clock was counting down the final quarter. 

——— 

“YES CHAN! C’MON YOU GOT THIS!” You and Seungmin weren’t even sitting anymore, you had gathered near the fence and your eyes followed as number 97 was speeding down the field. 

“Oh my god.” Your eyes were getting dry and you felt the need to blink but you forced yourself not to because you didn't want to miss this moment. 

“Holy shi—.” You heard Seungmin barely whisper from under his breath. Heads were turned as everyone watched Chan pass the goal and into the end field right as the clock reached zero.

Before you knew it, the audience around you had erupted into laughter, applaud, cheers, and everything in between. Meanwhile, the football players had circled on the field and were all congratulating one another. 

“Did we just win?” You looked at Seungmin and he turned to you with a gaping mouth, nodded rapidly. 

“You just witnessed the first win of the season!” The two of two started jumping up and down like little kids, smiling and shouting excessively. 

“My throat is so dry from all that screaming, but it paid off.” You smiled and felt light headed, unsure if it was because you were overjoyed or because of all the screaming and dehydration, probably all of the above. 

“Let’s go find Chan and congratulate him!” Seungmin grabbed your arm and pulled you down the steps of the bleachers, past the track and onto the grass. You spotted him from a few feet away but the two of you waited for the crowd to disperse a bit before reaching him. 

“You finally did it man! First win of the season!” Seungmin gave Chan one of those ‘bro-hugs’ and you stood back a bit to give them their space. Chan was just a friend of a friend so you felt awkward approaching him, but still you said your congratulations to him.

“Seungmin said it was your first time coming to one of our games right? Quite a show we put in tonight for you then.” He looked past Seungmin and directed the conversation at you, smiling like he had earlier. You didn’t notice this the first time but he had a dimple on one of his cheeks. His brown hair was tousled in every direction from wearing the helmet and the fringes of his bangs were matted to his forehead with sweat, undoubtedly you still thought he looked quite cute.

 “Yeah, I don’t know anything about football but I think you guys were great tonight!” You said, trying to project your voice so that he could hear you amongst all the other chatter and commotion. 

“She thought you guys were going to lose.” Seungmin noted, making you glare in his direction, silently telling him to shut up. Chan just laughed at the response, which made his smile grow wider. 

“It’s okay, I know we usually don’t do so hot. I’m glad you guys could come and watch us succeed today though. What a relief I exceeded your expectations then.” You smiled and awkwardly chuckled in response, feeling guilty now that you’ve been exposed by Seungmin for being a pessimist. 

“Well it was great seeing you again man, you gotta come over soon. My mom keeps asking where you are these days.” Chan turned back to Seungmin and they exchanged some more words before he focused back on you. “Also, thanks for coming tonight y/n to watch the game, and for accompanying my friend here, he usually goes solo and I pity him sometimes seeing him in the stands alone. Hopefully you’ll come back for our next game.” Honestly you had no plans to, but looking at Chan with his dimple, warm eyes and being convinced by his charming words, you felt like the urge to clear your schedule for it. 

————-

“What do you mean you’re not coming?!” Seungmin spun around in your desk chair and rolled towards your bed where you sat, surrounded by an innumerable amount of paper and textbooks. 

“It means I’m not coming, what words are you not understanding?” You replied without looking up, flipping to the next page in your calculus book. 

“But why not?” He was starting to sound like a whiny toddler and you were already getting frustrated with trying to solve this stupid math equation. 

“Seungmin,” you said firmly, looking at him in the eyes, “why can’t you just find someone else to go with? Can't you see I’m busy? This project isn’t going to finish itself.” You gestured towards the loads of work scattered everywhere. “Go ask Lia or something.”

“No, the last time I tried to bring her along she just kept talking about how pretty she would’ve been as a cheerleader and started to sulk over the fact that she didn’t make the squad. Anyways, you missed last week’s game too! Plus, you had so much fun the first time around.” Seungmin whined, saddened by your blatant, harsh rejection. 

“Right, but like I said I have to get this done. You know I’ll prioritize school work over a sports event any day. Plus, that was a one time thing. I just went for the experience. And now that I’ve experienced it, I can check it off my high school bucket list and move on.” Your focus ripped away from your friend and back to your notebook which was filled with scribbled and incorrect math solutions. You’d been working on this project for what seemed like an eternity and the light at the end of the tunnel was not showing itself. You wanted to scream in frustration. 

“Please come, it’s so much better with you there! Whenever I go alone I feel so… alone.” He watched as you crumpled up another piece of paper and threw at the trash, completely missing. “Plus, take it as a break from all your hard work and studies. You’re clearly stressed and need to unwind, treat yourself!” You eyed him from where you were sitting, going over his words. Maybe he’s right. You did have a lot of fun the first time you went and this project wasn’t due for a few more days.

You sighed, “I don’t know. Perhaps I do need a break.” His eyes lit up at your response and he quickly reached over to shut your textbook and push your notebooks to the side. 

“What are you waiting for then? Those first row seats are going fast.” After a moment, you caved into his words. 

“Alright, grab me the hoodie in my closet.” You ordered and he happily complied. Quickly you threw your hair into an updo and put streaks of gold and red on your cheeks. Slipping on the hoodie, you turned towards Seungmin who gave you a thumbs up. “Okay, let’s go.” 

Right as you guys were about to step out the room, you pulled him back. He gave you a questioning look. “By the way, you should consider being a salesman because sir, you really have a way to convince people with your words.” 

“Please spare me of your corny jokes y/n.” You punched him for his lack of appreciation for your humor as he led the way to his car. With that, you shut the door and the two of you were once again on your way to the school. 

———

“Oh sorry.” You apologized as you bumped into somebody as you tried to squeeze through the crowd and to the bleachers. 

“It’s oka- oh, y/n! Hey, you came back.” The person talking had a familiar voice so you looked up and Chan’s grin came into view. 

“Chan, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on the grass like warming up or something?” Over his shoulder, you could see the rest of his team mates stretching and whatnot by the field. 

“Yeah, but I had to run back to grab something from the lockers. Guess my timing was impeccable because now I’ve run into you. I noticed you didn’t come to the last game so I wasn't expecting you today either.” In last week’s game, Chan had thought you’d tag along with Seungmin like the other time but when he noticed you weren’t there, he felt a slight tinge of disappointment. “Is Seungmin with you too?”

“Yup, he went to grab some food. Sorry about missing the game last week by the way. I was busy.” It sounded like a pathetic excuse but it was the truth, you were caught up trying to study for exams and prepare for a presentation so there was no time in your agenda for a football game. 

“Ah, no worries. You’re here now right? Plus, you didn’t miss anything last week anyways. We ended up losing, pretty badly actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and you felt bad for him. Before, you had always made jokes and poked fun at the team for constantly losing but if you were in their shoes, you would’ve felt so discouraged and perhaps even frustrated. At that moment, you sympathized for him and his teammates. 

“Don’t worry Chan, that was last week so it’s the past now. Focus on today and have hope that you’ll win! Go out there and give it your all. I believe in your and the other players.” You gave him two thumbs up and a cheeky smile and he couldn’t help but laugh at your attempt at a motivational speech. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He genuinely meant this. Lately, he’s been getting at himself for all the losses this season. Was it because he was an incompetent player? Was he a bad captain? Was he even good at football? All these questions swirled in his head and kept him up at night but having recently won, hearing your cute speech, and seeing you beam sweetly at him, those doubts vanished. 

“Chan! There you are, come over here so we can take some pictures for the school yearbook together!” One of the cheerleaders approached Chan and you watched as she clung onto his side. For a moment, you had forgotten he was the popular team captain. 

“Uh, maybe in a bit Tiffany. I’m busy right no—“ 

“Come on Chan, the photographer for the yearbook club is already here. Plus we look good together.”

You felt like you were intruding on something here and felt so uncomfortable as you witnessed the girl flirt with Chan. You had to get yourself out of the scene. 

“Well I’m going to go grab a seat, good luck Chan!” You hurriedly fled to leave those two alone. 

“Tell Seungmin I said hi. Also, cheer loud for me! I need the support!” He shouted as he was dragged away with the girl. You made your way up to the stands and sadly, you hadn’t made it in time to grab the front row but thankfully, you spotted an empty area not too far back and sat down. 

While you were sitting there waiting for Seungmin—what was taking him so long to get the food?—a realization struck: you just had a full on conversation with the captain of the football team and it was completely void of any awkward tension. You had only met the guy once before and merely exchanged a few words with him. You’d never thought you’d even attend a football game much less two, and now suddenly be on speaking terms with Bang Chan. Senior year was something else. 

“Earth to y/n?” A hand waved in front of your face and you snapped out of your thoughts. You realized it was your best friend—he had finally gotten back with the food. “You good? Why are you spacing out?” He sat down and started munching in the kettle corn. 

“Just thinking how weird it is that I ran into Chan of all people and managed to have a full on, not-awkward conversation with him.” You left out the last bit where the cheerleader came in though, because that was beyond awkward. 

“How is that weird?”

“I don’t know. I just never thought I would be this far out of my safe little shelter. I mean think about it. I’ve stuck with the same handful of friends since freshman year and it wasn’t until like two weeks ago when I finally went to a school event. Now, I’m suddenly chatting up a storm with the captain of the football team and am sitting here sipping on hot chocolate waiting for the game to start, thanks for the hot cocoa by the way.” You blew glenty on the drink and observed the steam dissipate into the night air before taking a sip, pure instant mix hot chocolate flavor, just the way you liked it. 

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess it is sort of odd.” Seungmin nodded in agreement before continuing, “But as long as you’re enjoying yourself, then there’s no problem. Sometimes stepping out of your comfort zone to experience new things has its benefits.”

“You’re right, I guess I’m just finally realizing that now.” You smiled to yourself and watched as the two teams raced around the field. You still lacked knowledge about football, but watching this time around felt even more exciting than the first time. 

———

The team ended up winning again and of course you and Seungmin were so proud of your school for taking home another victory. Just like last time, you two waited around after the game to approach Chan and shower him with compliments and words of praise. 

“I didn’t think we’d be able to do it but we did it.” Chan was still dripping sweat and catching his breath, but his eyes shone brightly with joy. 

“Of course you’d be able to do it! You’re Bang Chan! The one and only.” You bobbed your head in agreement with Seungmin’s words. You had to give it to him, he was the best hype man a person could ask for. 

“Thanks. Anyways, the team and I were planning to grab some pizza at the local shop nearby as a mini celebration, do you guys want to come?” Immediately you shook your head while Seungmin on the other hand had accepted the invitation without a second thought. 

“I know this is a lot to ask of you and you’re probably going to say ‘sorry, I have to go finish my math project’ but please y/n. You’re already here and the night is still young.” Seungmin was clinging onto your right arm like a koala and you rolled your eyes at his antics. 

“If you knew I was going to bring up my math project then why bother trying to beg? Now let go of my arm you big baby.” You tried to wriggle your arm from out of his clutch but then someone grabbed onto your other arm.

“Please y/n.” You looked to your left and Chan was acting like koala 2.0. You expected this from Seungmin, you’re long-time best friend, but you had just met Chan on one other occasion and yet he acted like you two were the best of pals. You were taken aback by this but couldn’t manage to get either of them to let go, and the close proximity to Chan was starting to make the blood rush to your cheeks. God, you had to get them off of you before your face grew any redder. 

“Yes, okay! I’ll go!” They instantly detached themselves from your arms and high-fived each other, you let out a breath of relief. “One of you has to pay though, I don’t care who.” 

So there you were, sitting in the red and white colored booth stuck between Seungmin and the football team captain himself with a slice of piping hot pizza in front of you. This is not how you thought things would turn out. 

When everyone had arrived at the pizzeria, it was chaos. People were throwing out their orders and topping preferences and others were fighting to grab a table. You quickly told Chan your order, as he offered to pay, and pulled Seungmin to a booth before all of them were taken. Luckily, there was one last one that was unoccupied at the corner. When Chan had came to the table with the pie in hand, you thought he would take the other side of the booth but someone had spilled sticky soda all over the seat so that’s how you found yourself in this current predicament, squished between two teenage boys in a stuffy old booth, on a weekday night.

The three of you were eating and mindlessly talking when a group of girls drew closer towards you guys. You figured they must’ve wanted to talk to Chan so you continued eating quietly. 

“Chan you were amazing tonight! You really led the team to another win, I knew you could do it.” You recognized her, it was the same girl from earlier—Tiffany? 

“Thanks, hope you enjoyed the game.” Chan responded politely. 

“Of course I did silly. Anyways, do you want to join me and the others over there?” She pointed towards the other side of the pizzeria where most of the players and cheerleaders were gathered. 

“I’m good here, thanks for asking though.” She looked shocked at his response and for the first time, she averted her attention away from Chan to focus on you and Seungmin. Her eyes rolled right over Seungmin but stopped at you. Her gaze made you feel all ansty and self-conscious, but you tried your best not to show it. “Okay, well call me then.” She said before turning back and moving back to the other side of the room. 

It was silent for a while before Chan broke the tension. 

“So you like pineapple on pizza?” Chan said, biting into his own slice.

“Well yeah, it’s the superior topping.” The combination of sweet and salty was the best.

“Do you perhaps like mint chocolate ice cream too?” He asked, handing you a napkin as he noticed the smear of tomato sauce on your cheek. You nodded in thanks. 

“It’s not my favorite but I wouldn’t pass it up if offered.” You shrugged and grabbed another slice of pizza. 

“Seungmin,” Chan said, which caught the attention of the boy on the other side of you. “I like this girl. She had good tast–” Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at his words and he didn’t manage to finish his sentence before you started coughing, almost choking on your food. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” They simultaneously asked in alarm and you silently gave them the  ‘ok’ hand signal while inhaling down your drink, trying to wash down the pizza and calm yourself.

“All good.” You were not all good. You were just about to choke on pizza while some guy you barely even knew proclaimed that he liked you out of the blue. 

“Anyways, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by someone choking.” You slapped his arm and he laughed in response. “She’s got good taste and quite the sense of humor. I see why you ditch me at school to hang out with her now.” He joked, was he teasing you already? This guy seriously warms up to new people fast.

Thank gosh no other light-hearted confessions were made for the rest of the dinner, you didn’t think you could handle anymore heart-stopping jokes for the night.

“Wait.” Seungmin said suddenly, just as you guys were about to start wrapping this up and leaving.

“What?” You looked at him, waiting for a reply.

“I think y/n is our lucky charm.” He said with too much confidence. You whipped your head to look at him.

“What nonsense are you sputtering now? I am no one’s lucky charm. Do I look like that tiny leprechaun on a box of cereal to you?” You asked, feigning offense. 

“Well, I think you got the tiny part down.” Chan pointed out, and for the nth time you smacked him on the arm. Sure you were on the short side but there was no need to rub it in.

“That’s not what I meant y/n.” Seungmin gave you a deadpanned look before carrying on. “Anyways think about it guys, the first time y/n came to the game, the team won. Then she didn’t go to last week’s game and we lost. And today, she attended and we won again. Seeing a pattern?” He looked at you two expectedly, waiting for you guys to catch on. “I’ve connected the two dots.”

“You didn’t connect shi-” You started but Chan cut you off.

“You’re right!” His face brightened and turned towards you. “Y/n, you are our good luck charm! . You facepalmed yourself, these two shared the same three brain cells. 

“Right, and you’re Santa Claus.” You said with thick sarcasm dripping from your voice, “You guys are ridiculous. Now help me clean up please.” You referred to the table which was covered in dirty napkins, crumbs, and parmesan cheese packets everywhere. Thankfully they obeyed and started clearing the mess.

“No seriously, we have been losing all season and the moment you show up, it’s like all that is erased and we win!” Chan tried to reason, but you weren’t having any of it.

“It’s just a coincidence. It’s you and your teammates that are doing the work and bringing in the luck. I am merely just an audience member, an observer.” You shook your head at them and continued wiping down the table.

“Don’t take our word for it then, but you have to go to the next game!” Seungmin announced as he tried to reorganize the condiments on the side. You had just gone to the game and no time had passed before you were urged to go to another one. 

“I’ll think about it.” You peered over at Chan and he was smiling uncontrollably while Seungmin was happy dancing. What did you just get yourself into?

–––––

Ever since the spontaneous pizza meeting and the half hearted promise to attend the football games, you’ve been seeing Chan more and more at school. Sometimes you’d just notice each other in the halls and mouth “hi” or other times it was passing period and he’d see you and ask  “how are you?” before the seven minutes were up. As the days continued, he just increasingly  appeared in your frame of vision and it left you confused.

Both of you had been in the same grade year, at the same school for the past four years but you swore you’ve never even noticed him before and now he was everywhere. He’d be near your locker in the morning tagging alongside Seungmin, greeting you with a sunny smile and fresh look that contrasted greatly to your own glum expression and ‘just rolled out of bed’ appearance. It was seven am, you had an excuse to look like this you reasoned, making yourself feel better. 

Lately, he even sat with you and your tablemates at lunch. Your group of friends was shocked at first. Questions like “why is a football player sitting with us?” and “why is the football team captain sitting with us?” were exchanged amongst the table and you didn’t know how to answer because, why was he sitting with you guys all of a sudden? Eventually everyone got used to it though; he came around so often and no one objected. Initially, your friends had thought he was the stereotypical jock that acted all mighty and superior, but soon enough they realized he was the complete opposite of that. He was nice, funny, intelligent, and easy to get along with. He’d help your friends whenever they were struggling to finish their homework last minute, and he’d join in on the games of uno, go fish, and whatever else. 

Frankly, you didn’t mind his presence either and Seungmin was absolutely basking in delight because both of his best friends were now with him at school, playing the same card games and eating the same shitty school food together. You didn’t know when or how, but Chan just eased his way into your life and you had accepted it for the most part. However, there were moments when you still questioned him though, and one day you figured you might as well clear the confusion in your head. 

“Hey Chan.” He was currently teaching you how to play poker. 

“What’s up buttercup?” 

“Don’t call me buttercup.” You fixed a glare at him. “Anyways, I hope this doesn’t come off as a weird question but, why have you hung out with us everyday at lunch?” He didn’t say anything for a second and you regretted asking.

“Hm, I guess I just like it here. Your friends are nice, Seungmin is here,” he pointed towards the boy who was on his third pack of vending machine chips. “And you’re here.” You tried not to make anything out of that last comment and brushed it off.

“What about your other friends?”

“Other friends?” He raised an eyebrow at you and continued shuffling the cards.

“You know, the people you normally hung out with before you started hanging out with us?” 

“I didn’t have any friends.” He said and you scoffed, not believing it for a second.

“You? Captain of the football team. Mr. Bang Chan himself didn’t have any friends until you met us?” You said incredulously. 

“I mean I had Seungmin.” 

“He couldn’t have been your only friend.”

“No, I guess he wasn’t–”

“I knew it.”

“You didn’t let me finish. He wasn’t my only friend but I felt like he was my only true friend.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, it all felt so fake, so forced. Like I have my teammates and they’re chill, but we were just teammates, we didn’t hang out much besides practice or games. It’s like, just because you’re classmates, that doesn’t automatically make you all friends right?” You understood what he was saying and agreed. “And everyone else… well, it just felt ungenuine. I know many of them just tried to befriend me for the connection and to have the ability to say ‘I’m friends with the football captain’ but it wasn’t anything more.” At that point, you had wished you never pried. You felt like you had just pushed him to open Pandora’s box and that’s not what you had intended.

“Look Chan, I’m sorry I got nosy. I didn’t mean to ask you that and pry–” The apology started spilling out your mouth but the smile on his lips made you stop. “Why are you smiling? Shouldn’t you be offended and mad at me?”

“No, of course not. I know you must’ve felt weird that I randomly started hanging around you and your friends and I’m glad we got to clear up any confusion.” He said softly, looking at you from across the table. “I genuinely enjoy being around everyone at this table, especially you, so you don’t have to question it anymore. Okay?”

You kept replaying the words in your mind, ‘especially you.’ How could he say these things so easily and not realize how fast it made your heart pound or how sweaty your palms got? You couldn’t focus for the rest of lunch as he tried to teach you the ins and outs of poker. 

————- 

Weeks had passed and you, Seungmin, and Chan were like three peas in a pod—inseparable and going everywhere together. 

One day, you guys had planned on a hang out with three spots on the schedule planned. First was to hit up the arcade—Chan’s idea—and then grab dinner at Olive Garden—Seungmin said he was craving their breadsticks—-and lastly the cherry on top would be ice cream—-your suggestion. 

“Ready to get your ass handed in air hockey big shot?” You teased Chan as three headed to the arcade. 

“Oh, you’re so on.” He narrowed his eyes at you in the rear view mirror and you laughed from the backseat. 

“Woah, we should make this more exciting. Make it a wager.” Seungmin proposed from the passenger’s side. 

“What do you have in mind?” You stuck your head in between the two seats and looked at him. 

“Whoever loses...has to dress up as a fanatic at the last game of the season.”

“Isn’t the last game next week?” You asked, and the boys nodded in confirmation.

“Anyways I was thinking big fluffy tutu, face paint, a colored wig.” Seungmin listed out.

“Oh, and my jersey!” You made a disgusted face at Chan.

“Your jersey? You mean the one you sweat in and get both mud and grass stains all over?” The image of it alone was already disturbing, you couldn’t imagine actually putting it on.

“You know I wash it right?”

“Well regardless, what are we going to do if Chan loses though? He can’t do any of that, he had a uniform code to abide by.” You pointed out.

“Good point, if he loses he has to wear all of that to the after party then.”

“After party? Isn’t that only thrown when the team wins? What if the team doesn’t win?” You pointed out.

“The team will win.” Chan said with full confidence.

“No offense, but how are you so sure?” 

“Because, you’re our lucky charm.” 

________

“This is so unfair! He is an athlete! His hand eye coordination is way better than us common folk!” You shouted in disbelief as the last puck went into your goal, signaling that both you and Seungmin lost. 

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” Chan teased as he proceeded to do a victory dance as you and your other friend stared at him unamused. “Oh wait. I only have one extra jersey though, so only one of you can wear it.”

“All yours Seungmin!” 

“What, no way! You should wear it, you had the least amount of points between the two of us.” 

“I– you– ugh!” You couldn’t argue with that. You had to accept the fate of wearing that dingy, stinky, jersey now.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll do my best to wash it before then.” Chan added, finding it cute how you scrunched up your nose and pouted.

“Great, how reassuring.” 

“Ok that’s enough arcade for tonight. My pocket is running dry and those breadsticks are waiting.” Seungmin stated before making it towards the door with you and Chan following behind. 

The night was coming to an end and you guys were at the last stop–the ice cream shop. The three of you ordered a sundae and took turns scooping from the mountain of frozen dairy, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and rainbow sprinkles. 

“Are you nervous for the last game? You're going against the toughest school right?” You asked, looking at Chan who sat on the other side of the table with Seungmin. 

“A little, but for some reason I just feel really confident in the team so I think we will be fine.” 

“No doubt you got this in the bag man.” Seungmin said through a mouthful of ice cream.

“Nasty! Shut your mouth while you're eating Seungmin!” You tossed a crumpled up napkin at him.

“You’re one to talk, you’re quite a messy eater yourself.” Chan mentioned, reaching over to swipe the chocolate syrup off the corner of your lips. Regardless of how close you two had gotten over these last few weeks, his little gestures like these always caught you off guard, like wiping the corner of your mouth, guiding you somewhere with his hand on the small of your back, walking you to every class period. You’ve known Seungmin for years and he never did these things! Was it because he wasn’t chivalrous enough? Or was Chan too chivalrous? You shook your head of those thoughts and helped the two finish up the sundae.

–––––––––-  

This had got to be the worst outfit you ever wore you thought to yourself as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. The tulle skirt was actually cute but everything else was simply hideous. Seungmin had brought over the accessories in the early evening and you two had spent the last hour or two dressing up and getting ready for tonight’s game. You wore a wine red wig with gold stars painted across your cheeks and of course you kept your end of the deal and had Chan’s jersey on too, which surprisingly smelt of fresh linen. Seungmin on the other hand wore a bright yellow mohawk wig with half his face painted red, adorned with his very own tutu, which was layered over his pants, as well. You two looked awful but extremely hilarious.

“If I don’t get accepted into a college. I could go to the circus looking like this.” 

“Clown college is always an option.” Seungmin joked and you two laughed at your appearances until there were tears in your eyes. 

“Ready to go?” 

“Yup, let’s blow Chan’s socks off with these outfits.”

While you two were busy getting ready for the game, Chan was trying to prepare himself too, but mentally. It wasn’t that he was nervous about the game or the team losing, he had total confidence tonight would bring in another victory. The team had been doing well so far and everyone had been practicing extra hard for this final event. What he was really nervous about was seeing you. 

It had been weeks since he had first met you and the more he had gotten to know you, the more feelings he developed and the harder he fell for you. He had first seen you in the stands when Seungmin introduced you to him and he thought it was funny, yet adorable how your cheeks were stuffed like chipmunks with fried oreos. As time passed, he realized that you weren’t just cute, but so sarcastic, funny, and clever. He loved the way you made him laugh so easily and seeing your eyes turn to crescent moons whenever you smiled affected him more than you would ever know. 

He was planning on confessing to you today, to finally say the words ‘I like you.’ He had tried to do it multiple times before, but he never had the courage. Today was different though. Today you’d be wearing his jersey to the game and he was going to win, afterwards you’d meet him on the field and he’d run to you to say those three words and you guys would gaze into each other's eyes under the twinkling stars before going to the after party together, officially as a couple. That’s how the scene played in his head anyways. 

It was hard to not notice you when you had arrived. Both you and Seungmin stuck out like sore thumbs with the extravagant wigs and tutu combination. He couldn’t keep in his laughter and approached you two, meeting halfway. 

“You guys look amazing. Stars of the show tonight.” He looked at Seungmin before switching his gaze to you. Although he admitted the outfit had some clashing elements, he still thought you looked cute and pretty as ever. Seeing you in his jersey, which was just a bit too big on you, made his heart flip. There you were smiling at him with the light shining on your face, rosy cheeks, and his name written on your backside. How could he stop himself from falling for you?

“Thanks man, if we didn’t lose that game in air hockey, we would’ve never had the excuse to dress up like this. Like the mohawk?” Seungmin pointed to his hair.

“Love it. It’s a great look on you.” He looked at Seungmin before switching his gaze to you. Although he admitted the outfit had some clashing elements, he still thought you looked cute and pretty as ever. Seeing you in his jersey, which was just a bit too big on you, made his heart flip. There you were smiling at him with the light shining on your face, rosy cheeks, and his name written on your backside. How could he stop himself from falling for you?

“We’re going to the party after the game too right? I told my parents I was going to be home late today.” You asked. 

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” Chan said. 

“The game is about to begin, you should get going Chan, we will be in the stands cheering for you.” You reassured him before moving towards the steps to the bleachers, he grabbed your wrist to stop you though. 

“After we win tonight, meet me down on the field right after okay? Don’t wait, I have something important to tell you.” 

“Okay, now go before you’re scolded by the coach!” You ran up the stairs and assumed Seungmin was right behind you, in actuality he had stayed back for a second to talk to Chan. 

“Are you ready man? After you win you gotta use whatever adrenaline left and build up the courage to tell her.” Seungmin reminded Chan, hoping he wouldn’t back out of the confession again. He had been the wingman for weeks now and every time he thought Chan would do it, he didn’t. When his best friend first told him that he had a crush on your other best friend, he was momentarily appalled at the idea. However, after hearing Chan’s explanations on why he likes you and his feelings, he figured third wheeling you two wouldn’t be too bad as long as the both of you were happy, so he went along with it. 

He thought you’d catch onto Chan’s hints and subtle flirting, but either you were too dense or intentionally ignored it. Regardless, he and Chan had been planning this night for too long and he could not let his friend fail again. 

“Don’t worry. I’m going to do it.” 

“Okay, I’m really rooting for you.” 

Then Seungmin joined you in the bleachers and shortly after, the game commenced. 

———- 

It was intense. The opponents were just as good as the rumors made them out to be and your school’s team wasn’t leading, but they weren’t far behind either.

The other team had called for a time out and so the game was on pause. You were nervously eyeing the scoreboard and looked around in the field to find Chan. Was he feeling more pressured now? Hopefully he still had the confidence from earlier. You spotted him, with his back turned, but it was as if he knew you were looking at him because he circled around and locked eyes with you. You gave him two thumbs up and he returned the gesture. 

The whistle blew and everyone got back into their positions. The time was running again and the crowd was cheering nonstop. 

They had to win. 

It was the first game you’d ever gone to over the last few weeks that had gone over time but surely enough, the school reigned victorious. 

“Y/n, remember you had to meet Chan at the field right?” Seungmin reminded you, and thankfully he did because you were so caught up with the win that you’d forgotten for a second 

 “Oh, right. Are you coming?” 

“No, I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit.” With that you left Seungmin and hurried down the bleachers. You had made it to the track and was halfway to the field when you noticed Chan, but he wasn’t alone. 

You stopped mid-step and watched as the unknown girl wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. You couldn’t see her face form here but you had a feeling it was Tiffany again. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight and there was a sinking feeling in your stomach. 

He said he had something important to tell you. When he said that, a big part of you was looking forward to the end of the game. Not because you wanted to see them win, but because you wanted to hear him tell you what was so important. Was it that he liked you just as much as you liked him? When these feelings first developed, you tried to bury them. Not only was he Seungmin’s friend, which would make things weird, but because you weren’t sure if he was single, and  even if he was, why would he like you when there were so many other girls at the school? But you were bad at burying feelings and it didn’t help that you saw him everyday at school and even more so when you hung out. 

You had been hopeful though, perhaps by some miracle he had a crush on you too. But from the looks of it now, you had been wrong. So you stood there staring like a fool as the girl continued to kiss him. It must’ve been only second but it felt like forever. You snapped out of it when you realized hot tears were running down your cheeks, so you turned to leave through the school gates. 

————-

Chan pushed her off and immediately put distance between himself and the girl. “What are you doing Tiffany?!” 

“Why do you keep calling me Tiffany? You used to call me Tiff or princess.” She said, stomping her feet out of frustration. Chan wanted to roll his eyes at her childish behavior. 

“That was before.” Before was when Chan and Tiffany were together and known as the ‘it’ couple amongst the school. She was the head cheerleader and he was team captain, it was just like all those cheesy teen rom-coms. At the time, he had never dated anyone before and thought what they had was fun, but there was no real chemistry. It had lasted for almost a year but Chan had broken it off. “We’re not together anymore.” 

“Then let’s get back together.” She reached out to him but he stepped back. 

“No, there’s no chance for us anymore Tiffany. I gotta go find someone.” So he left the flabbergasted girl in the middle of the field as he ran off in search of another girl who was in a brightly colored tutu and the jersey with his name on it. With no luck he saw Seungmin and went up to him. 

“Where is she?” Chan asked anxiously.

“What do you mean? I thought she was with you.” Seungmin asked in a wary tone. 

“What? No, I haven’t seen her.” 

“Chan, she left right after the game ended to look for you. How can you possibly be telling me you missed the girl in a bright ass wig and a tulle skirt?” He asked in disbelief. 

“Oh shi—“

————

Thankfully the walk home wasn’t too bad, besides having the cold air nip at your bare skin, it wasn’t a very long walk and before you knew it you were already on the front porch unlocking the door. 

Your parents were already fast asleep and you didn’t want to wake them so you gently closed the door and made way to your room. Your reflection in the mirror revealed the streaks of eyeliner that were smudged around your eyes and the face paint was no longer intact. Washing your face, you tore off all the ridiculous clothes and slipped on your oversized t-shirts and sweats. 

This was so stupid. You felt like a protagonist in one of those typical romance films which is the last thing you had wanted. There you were wrecked in tears, crushing over some guy on a Friday night and he didn’t even realize it. The game was over so he was probably at the after party with that girl right now, meanwhile you were sulking under the covers in bed. 

The phone on your nightstand was chiming non-stop and it dawned on you that you just left Seungmin without a single word. Quickly you swiped your screen open and went to your messages.

Over thirty-two texts–twelve of which were from Seungmin and the rest were all from Chan. You disregarded the latter and tapped on your best friend’s name.

(8:42 pm)

[ seungminnie ] hey, wya?

(8:45 pm)

[ seungminnie ] r u in the bathroom?

(8:46 pm)

[ seungminnie ] wait, did u leave already?

(9:04 pm)

[ you ] yeah, i was feeling tired so i left. sorry, hope you have fun at the party tho. 

You hit send and shut off your phone for the rest of the night. The rest of the night was uneventful as you laid awake, running through everything that had led you up to this point. From the first football game, meeting Chan, befriending him, falling for him, then being crestfallen because of him.

This is why you always stuck to the things you knew, the things you were comfortable with. It had been like this for so long and the one time you finally tried to live life a little bit carefree with less restraints, it backfires. You wanted to blame him for causing this pain in your chest and the waterworks, but at the end of it all, it was your fault for thinking things would be different. Meeting Chan made you optimistic; perhaps those stereotypes about football players and high school kids were wrong. It was your fault for stepping outside of your safe little bubble and expecting things to be okay. You were naive.

————

The afterparty was a bust. After Seungmin had received the text from you, he informed Chan and the two of them were no longer in the mood to go, but everyone else was still in a celebratory mood and the team ushered Chan to join. How could the team captain not go to the party? 

So there he was, sitting on the couch while Seungmin was off trying to grab more sodas. He had plastered on a fake smile when people greeted him. Sure he was happy that they had won, but he didn’t feel like dancing, or mingling, or whatever else teenagers did at parties. All he could think about was how he messed up again at trying to confess to you. You must’ve seen what happened, there was no other reason for you to leave so abruptly like that. He had sent so many texts, sporadic apologies mixed with incoherent explanations. All left unread, unresponded. How was he going to fix this? You clearly didn’t even want to talk to him.

Seungmin came back with two cans in hand and Chan thanked him before popping it open with a satisfying fizz. His friend joined him on the couch and for a while, they just sat quietly, occasionally sipping on the sweet drink while the room around them continued to move to the music and muddled conversations filled the atmosphere. Finally, one of them spoke.

“What am I going to do?” Chan asked, defeat lined his voice.

“Do you really like her man?” Seungmin already knew the answer, but he had to ask.

“Yeah, I really do.” He said without a moment’s hesitation. Chan didn’t have much wisdom or experience when it came to relationships. He’s had crushes on different people before and many have tried to get his attention but none of them had the same effect on him as you did. 

“Then wait until she’s ready to approach you again and fight for her. It’s going to take time but if you want to make it happen, you have to try.” 

Seungmin was right. This wasn’t going to be simple, but he had to try. For you, he would.  

————

You tried to recover over the weekend and Seungmin sent you some texts, checking up on you to ask if you were alright. You were grateful for his concern and reassured him that you were okay, and in a way, it was a half lie, half truth. It was going to take more than two days to get over heartache, but you were prepared to let it go and move on, especially when you realized that it was your mistake to begin with and that even if Chan didn’t like you that way, you still enjoyed having him as a friend. All these weeks you spent with him brought you happiness and you didn’t want to erase all of that just because of some silly feelings. 

Coming to that conclusion, you finally opened the texts that he had sent but you had been ignoring for the last three days. 

(Friday 8:50 pm)

[ chan ] seungmin told me you left, i hope you made it home safely

(Friday 8:51 pm)

[ chan ] he told me u were going to meet me after the game. u must’ve seen us. im sorry

It was difficult to continue reading as your eyes began to blur but you swiped away the tears that threatened to spill and kept scrolling. 

(Friday 8:53 pm)

[ chan ] i really wanted to talk to u. Ik what you must be thinking but it’s nothing, i promise. she isn’t my girlfriend. we used to date but that was a long time ago. it's over now. 

[ chan ] please reply. 

[ chan ] im sorry y/n. seriously, im so sorry. 

(Friday 9:27 pm)

[ chan ] i’ll wait for u until ur ready to talk to me. gn 

That was the last text he sent you. It was just a few sentences but you let out a shaky breath and tossed your phone to the side. He wanted to talk to you, and you wanted to talk to him too. Was it just a big misunderstanding? He said the girl wasn’t his girlfriend, but rather an ex. That didn’t automatically guarantee he was single though, did it? Also, if she was an ex, why did he kiss her then? You groaned and fell into your bed, face planting into the pillows. 

This was so confusing. You should’ve never developed feelings for him. Whether he was single or not shouldn’t matter to you anymore, you just wanted to joke around, make sarcastic comments with each other, and be platonic friends like before. It was less stressful and complicated that way. 

————

Monday rolled around and you gave yourself a mini pep talk before walking through the school doors. You were determined to face him and not break down. This was going to be fine. You whispered to yourself as you spotted Seungmin near your locker, Chan wasn’t with him. Both a little disappointing, yet relieving. 

“Morning gorgeous, you doing well?” Seungmin leaned against your locker door as you grabbed your belongings.

“Well hello to you too gorgeous.” You joked, no matter how bad your weekend was, having your best friend nearby always cheered you up. “I’m doing alright this morning, woke up on the right side of the bed.” 

“That’s good, um, are you going to talk to him today?” He asked cautiously, hoping that it didn’t come off too pushy or nosy.

“Yeah. He said he needed to talk to me after the game right? Might as well see what he had to say.” You shut the metal door and together, you and Seungmin walked to first period. 

Half the school day had passed and the bell rang, signaling that it was lunch. This was it, you were going to face him now. You were afraid he’d avoid you because he didn’t sneak up behind you in the halls or walk your classes today like he usually did, but you saw his figure sitting at the lunch tables through the glass windows. Slowly you made your way to the bench. His back was turned to you so you gently poked his shoulder; he turned and looked up, a gentle smile spread across his face when his chocolate brown eyes locked onto yours. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” He breathed out, standing up to match you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” His hands were shoved in his pockets and he looked at you nervously.

“Yeah.” 

He led the way and you stuck close behind him. Soon the school’s garden came into view and thankfully most people didn’t come here, it was sort of hidden behind all the buildings, so you two had the area to yourself. It was so quiet and mellow here, there weren’t many flowers in bloom due to the recent season change, but it was still very beautiful. 

You sat on the little wooden bench that was placed in the center and he did too, leaving some room in between you two.  

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You started, looking down at your lap to avoid looking at him.

“I’m sorry. That’s the first thing I want to tell you.” He had all his attention on you. Chan paused for a moment before continuing, “You saw me with that girl the other night didn’t you?” You nodded your head wordlessly. His shoulders slumped at your confirmation but he figured you did.v“I know what you saw must’ve been really bad and you probably came up with many assumptions but I’m here to tell you that none of that is true. We aren’t together.” He said firmly.

“Then why did you kiss her?” Your voice was a mere whisper.

“I didn’t kiss her, she just came onto me and I was shocked. Once I had realized what was happening and who it was, I immediately stopped it and told her that she and I were completely over.” Some of the pain in your heart eased hearing this but you didn’t want to be too optimistic.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need you to know that I am not with her. I am not with anyone.” He said vehemently, leaving no room for doubts. “Y/n, please look at me.” When you didn’t, he gently grasped your chin and turned your head so he could finally meet your eyes. You had a dejected expression and your eyes were glazed over with trapped tears. He cupped your cheek with the palm of his hand; the warmth and closeness made your heart flutter. 

“Y/n.”

“Mmhhm?” You didn’t have the ability to form words at the moment. His touch made you lightheaded and you couldn’t think straight. 

“I like you.” His gaze never tore away from yours. 

“What?” Your forehead wrinkled in puzzlement.  He liked you? Bang Chan, captain of the football team. The boy everyone wanted to be friends with and the guy nearly all the girls swooned for. Bang Chan liked you?

“I. Like. You. Not just as a friend. I like you as a person that I want to go on dates with, hold hands with, make happy memories and experience the highs and lows of life with.” He was so close to you now that you could feel his breath on your cheeks. “You are the girl I wanted to hold in the middle of the field that night and say these words to. I’m sorry that didn’t happen but it’s better late than never.” The words were slowly processing through your head but unconsciously, a grin formed on your lips and red was rushing to your cheeks. 

“Chan, I like you too.” The words came out so easily and the boy immediately broke out into the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

He leaned in close but before your lips connected he whispered, “Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes.” If someone were to have told you a few months back that you’d be kissing Chan under the cloud-dotted, blue autumn sky after he just confessed his feelings for you, you would’ve guessed they were insane, but there you were now doing exactly that and nothing could’ve made you happier. 

You had always been afraid of trying new things and straying from your typical routine because you didn’t know what challenges life had in store once you’ve ventured too far. Undoubtedly, stepping out of your comfort zone was difficult. Nevertheless, it was worth it because it led you here to this very moment. 

also here is my masterlist in case you want to read my other works!

#skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #skz au #stray kids au #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz angst #stray kids angst #bang chan #stray kids masterlist #skz masterlist

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Hiya! May I request how the boys would comfort and help a reader who works a lot during the week? Like giving them foot massages or making them food, stuff like that? I work every single evening this week, which I’m cool with, but I’m also very sore and would love some comfort from the boys 💕

I sighed as I eyed the clock. Thirty minutes. Thirty never-ending minutes until I could go home - or the boardwalk. Or the boys. Or just anywhere really, as long as it wasn't here.

I had taken this job because I initially thought it would be fun - working at the hotel service desk. Answering phonecalls, welcoming people - you know, just a fun summer job.

And it was fun, for a while. Until the supervisors realised I was actually good at it. That people somehow stayed longer after I helped them. They gave me more hours - and more money which was not a bad thing at all. Now however, with almost twelve hour work days for six days a week, I regretted it. A lot.

If it was busy or there were people coming through I didn't mind, but on days like today, where basically nothing happens - and you're not allowed to do anything else? Horrible. I sighed, my head leaning on my arms as I stared at the clock. Just twenty-five more minutes.

I didn't really realise that my eyes grew heavy, or that I slowly drifted off. It was only when I heard the sharp - painfully annoying - front desk bell ring that I shot up.

"Shit - were you asleep?"

I frowned, rubbing my eyes a little. "Marko?"

"Babe, this isn't healthy anymore."

"It's just been a long day."

"Yeah. Everyday for the past six weeks."

I sighed, looking at the clock. Twelve thirty - I had actually slept for a good forty minutes. Hopefully no one noticed...

"Marko, what's keeping you ma- are you okay?" Paul looked at me.

"I- what? Yeah? Why?"

"You look like shit, doll. Come on," he took my hand, dragging my along - while Marko took my bag and coat with him.

"Where are we going?"

"Home. Yours first, so we can pick up some clothes. You have tomorrow off -"

"I don't? Paul, what did you do?"

"Told them you were sick, so you got tomorrow off. You're welcome. Anyways - you need to relax, wind down and just chill." He grinned.

I knew I would not win this, so I climbed on behind him as we got to their bikes. I held on tightly as we drove, racing through the streets. Once at my place - a small apartment with only a bedroom, bathroom and kitchen - I grabbed some clothes, and some other stuff I'd need.

"Ready?" Marko asked, helping me in the back of his bike. I nodded, smiling tiredly as he drove off. I laid against him, once again feeling the fatigue washing over me.

I'm not sure when I got to the cave, or how I got down - I assumed one of the boys carried me. I sighed softly as I sat up, realising I was laying on the bed. Some music was playing softly, and by the smell of it I guessed the barrels were lit.

"Hey," I greeted Dwayne and David, getting up. It was quiet for a moment, the two of them eyeing me with something I could only guess was worry.

"It's just been a long week."

"You fell asleep at work. You need to relax a bit every once in a while. Forget about work."

"I know. I just can't..." I looked at Dwayne.

"You should take a bath. It-"

"Shit, do I smell?"

Both of them chuckled , sharing their heads. "No," David answered before Dwayne could. "It just helps if you want to relax."

"Or not if you don't want to."

"No, no a bath sounds good." I said, nodding. I realised I was still tired, and I felt really grateful that Paul took matters into his own hands and, are sure I was free tomorrow. I walked to the bathroom, filling the tub with warm water before getting in.

When I got out - dressed in some comfy pyjamas - I was dragged towards the couch by Paul. He practically pulled me on his lap, hugging me. "What's going on?" I asked him, as I saw Dwayne and Marko working in a TV.

"Movie. We picked your favourites."

I smiled. "Thank you."

"Try again -" Marko watched as Dwayne once again plugged the TV in, both grinning as they got it to work.

"Where's David?"

"Fixing dinner," Marko answered as he put a tape in.

The movie started playing - I asked if we should wait but they said that David didn't mind - and the four of us were cuddled up on the couch. I was now practically sitting on Dwaynes lap, my legs laying on top of Paul and Marko's laps. It was comfy.

Half an hour into the movie dinner was ready. David had made my favourite - and I honestly can't remember the last time I ate something so good.

The rest of the night passed a bit in a blur. Cuddles, movies, joking around - all I really really,ember that the five of us fell sleep, all curled up into each other on the couch.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #tlb 1987 #david #dwayne #paul #marko

[sakiyo]

━ # ONE A.M EYELINER | suna rintaro

+ pairings: suna rintaro/reader

+ tags: best friends 2 lovers, suna being a pretty mf, mutual pining, uni!au.

+ warnings: none

+ word count: 2.2k

+ summary: suna rintaro has never let you do his eyeliner, simply because he’s afraid to let you get too close.

+ listening to: FLESH by miguel & A Warm Touch of Light by Isabella LeVan

+ note: nothing but me rambling on about how pretty suna’s eyes are and how they’re pretty enough to deserve a whole fic dedicated to them. dedicated to my dom @kiyoomae​ i hope you enjoy babe because i finished this shitty fic for you <3.

“i could get hypothermia if i go out there, you know.”

working with suna always ended up the same way, there was no doubt about it. by the time that the clock plastered on your wall hit twelve-forty five a.m, the project was finished, but completely half assed as a result of neither of you paying enough attention during lectures to actually know what to do. yet, somehow, the same desultory assignment would always receive an undeserving ‘A-plus’. mostly because your professor never cared to actually observe the material, as long as it was in, it was good enough for him. [but you would grade it a solid 64 percent]

there's one variable that’s different today; it’s raining. it’s one a.m and it’s raining, and suna decided that it would be a sublime idea to walk to your apartment today, of all days. [as much as you encourage him to do so, he still never checks the weather]. the disruption in your routine was anything but an easy adjustment. and as much as you wanted to kick him out, the rain was growing heavier and heavier and—

“okay fine! you can crash for the night!” 

he smiled, unaware of the fact that you would have said yes to him either way.

+++

you can’t help but notice that suna has pretty eyes.

honestly, you picked up on his bizarrely unique vulpine-like eyes years ago, when you had first met him. but now, as you sit on the couch that occupies the majority of your compact living room, you’re drawn back to them.

its an odd thought to think about your best friend at one in the morning. 

but...he’s admittedly pretty.

you think back to a random fact you learned in the biology course you took in your third year of highschool; you grow into your eyes. never in your life did you believe that such a miniscule piece of information would find its way back into your mind two years later, and because of suna no less.

it’s one a.m and your legs are situated in his lap, his fingers deftly toying with the tip of the anklet he bought you for your sixteenth birthday [he doesn’t believe that you still wear it, even after all the passed time], 

but you’re still fixated on his eyes.

if it was even possible, the creases accented them further, like each line was strategically placed to lure one’s undivided attention to them. it’s funny though, because suna was never fond of attention. [which was also why seven year old rin never took a liking to overly-exertive you.

you still share a laugh with him thinking back to your rock hard resolve as a child and his burning desire to stay away from you. 

it’s funny how easily time changes things.]

you almost feel like you’re dreaming as you watch his eyelids ghost over, his glassy skin reflecting the coral tint of the cheap ceiling light. but you’re not dreaming, he’s right there, in all his ignorant glory. suna doesn’t notice your residual gaze, he’s fixated on the ‘NBA playoffs highlights’ video streaming on his instagram feed. yet you feel creepy, overanalyzing him like this.

but you allow your mind to wander, just a bit.

“hey, rintaro?” you lightly dig your heel into his thigh. 

it’s merely a sporadic case of wishful thinking. you’ve known suna rintaro for many years, which was more than enough time to figure out his complex personality.

and if there’s one thing he never allowed you to do, it was his eyeliner.

six times. 

you had asked to apply the liquid to his eyes six times, and each time you had received the same answer. a simple no. he doesn’t say ‘no’ with malice, though. no...the last thing he would want is you thinking that he just hated you enough to constantly reject your proposals.

suna hums quietly, shifting to meet your gaze. “yeah?” 

he still thinks you haven’t caught on, but you picked up on his tendency to immediately drop his phone in a reflex to hearing your voice a while back— you like it.

“do you think,” you shift your legs from the comfort of his lap and move your body closer to him, “i could do your eyeliner?”

your question doesn’t register.

instead, suna’s hyper fixated on the inching proximity between you two— he doesn’t like it. it’s one a.m and you’re moving one couch cushion closer, your knee is brushing against his thigh, has your skin always been this cold? he can barely focus, but he still hears the droplets of rain assaulting the window and roofs, they’re getting louder and louder and—

“suna? did you hear me?” your voice is accompanied with slight confusion. 

you narrow your eyes as he blinks out of his trance. you’re not shocked though— his tendencies to space out were never limited to lectures alone. “wha?”

your shoulder rests against his, and he swears he feels his heart cease its rhythmic palpitations for a fraction of a second.

[no you idiot, that’s just your regular heartbeat.]

there’s apprehension in your voice, “can i...do your eyeliner…?” suna is a relatively simple man, the worst he can say is no, but you want a yes this time around. 

“i’ve already said—” 

suna’s breath hitches, as if his words are lodged at the back of his throat. your fingers grip onto the peak of his broad shoulders. [you’d rather die than admit it, but you always loved when he’d roll them back and inconspicuously stretch his neck]

suna stares at you squarely in the face. he can feel the outline of your fingernails lightly tacking into his skin. shit, he’s dreaming. his eyes shift around the room, it’s still one a.m, and he can’t get any words out of his mouth.

speak, speak, SPEAK—

you beat him to it.

“before you say no!” your voice rises as you try to appeal. “i’m letting you crash at my place for the night, i deserve a payment.” your words come out as more of a jumbled mess than a proper sentence. subconsciously, you take your bottom lip between your thumb and index fingers, biting it every now and then. suna lifts a brow at your familiar mannerisms— he likes to think he knows you better than anyone else, and he knows that you toy with your bottom lip before taking a test, receiving a report card, or going in for a job interview.

are you nervous?

he sighs.

“fine…” he whispers softly. suna doesn’t exactly know if he should regret agreeing to your question, but he doesn’t miss the way your eyes visibly light up when he does.

you look pretty. 

+++

he regrets it.

it’s one a.m and you’re situated on his lap, straddling him innocently as you dab the brush into the bottle of ebony ink. suna can’t help but feel like a putty in your hands, the same ones that gently grip his jaw to hold it in place. 

he’s still not sure how old he was when your touches started to feel like fire.

suna feels trapped, he IS trapped. between your legs, between your soft body and the tender cushion, between the thin line of friendship and-

he should stop.

[he still can’t believe he’s doing this]

“would you like thin, or thick eyeliner, rin?”

has his name always rolled off your tongue so effortlessly?

“thin, like yours.”

you hum with content, looking him over with a small smile etched onto your face. he doesn’t understand how you can keep eye contact with him so easily, especially while you’re moving closer and closer to his chest. 

he holds his breath as you exhale. he can still smell the lingering scent of peppermint from the gum you were chewing minutes before– usually he can’t stand it, but right now it feels like home. suna knows his eyes shouldn’t be trailing down to your cherry balm stained lips, and he knows that his chest shouldn’t swell at the sight of you wearing his old bleach stained t-shirt that stretched past your shorts.

suna knows that he’s not supposed to see his best friend in that light; so why is it all that he can think about?

“close your eyes for me please?”

he really doesn’t want to, afraid that if he opens them back up again, you’ll be gone and he’ll be in his bed [he still believes that he’s dreaming]. but he knows that he’d rather dance with the devil [the twins] than say no to you, so he complies.

you hum a light tune to yourself as you bring the fine-tipped brush to the edge of his eye. as the pen glides across his skin, suna can’t help but flinch at the intrusive feeling. instinctively, his hand darts up to hold your wrist, stopping you from drawing any further.

“that feels weird.” he can’t see, but he can feel the smile tugging at your lips.

“you’ll get used to it in a bit, rin.”

it’s weird, best friends don’t usually sit in each other’s lap with less than five inches of breathing room between each other. what if he were to do this with one of the twins–

that’s a disturbing thought. he immediately forgets about it. he shifts in discomfort mid-stroke, making your hand slip.

you groan in frustration; it’s at times like this that you can’t stand suna.

“stop moving! you made it smudge!” you lightly smack his chest [though, it’s just a pitiful excuse to touch him].

“sorry, sorry.” your giggles die down as you clean up the line, and suna quickly goes back to overthinking. 

tik

the rain is still pouring.

tok

he counts that you breathe twice every ten seconds.

tik

you’re getting closer to his chest. 

tok

he can still smell the leftover pizza on the coffee table from today’s takeout.

tik

the gel feels kind of nice now.

tok

its one a.m and suna’s falling in love with–

“earth to suna?” you huff as you lightly tap his shoulder, “don’t tell me that you’ve fallen asleep on me.” it’s quite funny to him when you say that; you’re actually what keeps him up at night.

you lean back as he opens his eyes, looking at the eyeliner from afar. you can’t help but get a bit jealous– even without trying, suna had always managed to look perfect. 

you’re so caught up that you don’t notice yourself starting to slip.

“watch out.” his hand slips around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

it’s one a.m and your hands are back on his shoulders. you know that your eyes shouldn’t be on his slightly chapped lips, and you know that you shouldn’t want to throw the hoodie adorning his body somewhere across the room. 

inhale

his hands are still around your waist.

exhale 

you watch as his tongue ghosts over his lips to wet them.

inhale 

you can smell the residual scent of the same cinnamon cologne you got him for a ‘secret santa’ event between your friend group.

exhale 

sometimes, you forget that you’re just friends.

inhale

has suna always been this attractive?

exhale 

the tipped over bottle of eyeliner is spilling onto your clothes.

inhale 

how would his lips feel against–

“wanna kiss you.” the hesitation in suna’s voice is clear. he knows better than anyone that best friends shouldn’t want to kiss each other. his heart is racing. when your eyes widen in surprise he wants nothing more than to push you off of him and leave without saying goodbye– but he’s already said it. 

“w-what?” you stutter out. you can’t help but wonder if you’re dreaming. you want to pinch yourself, but if it is a dream, the last thing you’d want is to wake up.

“i want to kiss you. will you let me?” he says, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

little does he know that you want more; to touch him, taste him, love him–

you take the easy way out instead, “yeah...alright.”

he moves a stray strand of hair away from your face, is he doing this right? You move in closer, eyes slowly fluttering shut, but suna’s gaze still lingers on you. he thinks you look even more beautiful than before [he didn’t think it was possible]. It’s one a.m and he’s about to kiss the person of his dreams. 

shit. he should close his eyes.

the journey seems like forever, but you both finally feel each other.

no, his lips don’t ghost over yours.

they press together, full of pent up passion. it’s hot, too hot for even best friends. 

can you even call each other that anymore?

not with the way his hands claw at the tip of your shirt in a futile attempt of pulling you closer to him, not with the way you gather tufts of his hair in your hands, and certainly not at the way you both feel at home like this. you both can taste every last inch of each other. 

he swears that he hates peppermint, but he’s drunk on the taste of it on your tongue. 

you’re meant to be nothing more than childhood best friends, but you want more and more and MORE.

this shouldn’t be happening, but he wants more and more and MORE–

you both break for air after an eternity, pulling away with heat-flushed faces, heaving chests, and swollen lips. he rests his forehead against yours, peppering ghost-kisses between breaths that tickle your skin. 

“i’m not supposed to love you, but i do.”

it’s two a.m, and two best friends are melting into each other. 

they’re unaware that the rain has stopped. 

#ending lowkey did not turnout the way i wanted but it’s decent #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #.my works

[honey-dewey]

Christmas Miracle

Marcus Moreno/Reader

Word Count: 2,107

Warnings: Mild descriptions of the magic of childbirth and all the wonderful things that come with it

4 AM on Christmas morning was not when you wanted to be going into labor. And yet here you are, at 4 in the morning, on Christmas day, about to have a baby. Of course, that would be a lot easier if your lovely husband actually believed you were in labor. 

You groaned, rubbing your back and heading back to the bed you shared with your husband. Eight months pregnant and you were starting to regret having a kid. But you were a sucker for Marcus’s puppy eyes and Missy really wanted a sibling, so you’d caved. 

Checking your phone, you sighed. Four AM on Christmas morning. Of course the baby had to sit practically on your bladder at the ass crack of dawn on Christmas morning. 

Marcus was still dead asleep as you went to go crawl back into bed. For a superhero with incredible reflexes, you were shocked at how heavy of a sleeper he was. 

Right as you put your hands on the edge of the bed, you felt warmth trickle down your legs. Looking down, you saw a growing puddle on the floor, illuminated only by the dim lamp you’d turned on. 

“Fuck,” you grumbled, wondering how the hell you’d just had an accident right after using the bathroom, and then it hit you. 

“Marcus,” you reached over the bed as best you could and nudged your husband. “Marcus!” 

Marcus rolled over, sleepy eyes still half closed. “What?” 

“My water just broke.” 

Marcus didn’t answer. He checked the clock over your shoulder and let out a long sigh. “Babe, that isn’t funny. Go back to sleep.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Marcus Moreno!” You hissed quietly, desperate to keep Missy asleep despite her being all the way down the hall. “I am standing in a puddle of amniotic fluid, and you are absolutely right, this is not funny because it is not a goddamn joke!” 

As soon as he realized you were serious, Marcus was awake. He rubbed his eyes and pulled a shirt on, looking at you, standing there in soaked pyjama bottoms and one of his old shirts. “But we don’t have a bag packed and we aren’t ready! I thought you weren’t due until the end of January!” He said, rushing around. “Should we call the doctor?” 

“Yeah,” you said, trying to calm your rushing heart. “I’ll start cleaning this up, I guess.” 

“No,” Marcus said, handing you the phone, which was already ringing. “You call, I’ll clean.” 

So you waited on the phone while Marcus grabbed a towel from the hall closet. The receptionist picked up and transferred you to the doctor, who you explained the entire situation to. 

“Well,” the doctor said, clearly as sleepy as you. “I guess you’re having a baby today. Come in ASAP, we really can’t wait if your water just broke.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You said, looking at Marcus’s worried face. “I’m not having the baby today.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“No, I’m not,” you insisted. “It’s Christmas.” 

The doctor laughed slightly. “Yes it is,” she agreed. “And you’re having a baby today.” 

Marcus took the phone before you could argue back. “We’ll be there soon,” he said, and you glared at him as he hung up. 

“I’ve already called my mom, and she’s gonna take Missy while we’re at the hospital,” Marcus said, quickly packing a bag for you. “She’s awake and exhausted, but should be ready to go.” 

While Marcus and Missy got ready, you did exactly what Marcus told you to do. Sit and wait in the car, clutching a stress ball for dear life. 

“Ready?” Marcus asked you, climbing into the car after he’d secured Missy in the backseat. 

“No.” 

Marcus smiled, taking your hand and kissing it. “You’ll be fine,” he promised. “Now c’mon, we have to hurry.” 

Missy gave you both a very sleepy goodbye when you dropped her off, and Anita smiled, telling you to keep a level head and crush Marcus’s fingers if you had to. 

“Yeah, thanks mom.” Marcus rolled his eyes playfully, turning to you. “Here we go.” 

You only grew more and more nervous as Marcus drove closer to the hospital. When he parked, you refused to drop your death grip on his hand, which was seemingly fine with him. He simply rubbed his thumb over your knuckles as you two headed into the hospital. 

The doctor was waiting for you at the reception area, smiling and guiding you to a room. “It seems the baby wanted to make a very unforgettable entrance,” she said, gesturing to the bed in the room. “Go ahead and put the gown on and lie down. I’ll be right back.” 

Marcus had to help you, considering the size of your stomach. Once you’d laid down, he took both your hands. “You’re gonna be okay,” he said softly. “Want me to tell you the story of how much of an absolute dumpster fire Missy’s birth was?” 

You nodded, leaning into his touch. Marcus settled on the bed next to you, pushing sweaty hair off your forehead. “I was out on a mission,” he started. “And I got this call from Tech-no. And he said ‘hey your wife is in labor.’” 

Marcus smiled, the memories flooding back. “I rushed back to headquarters, of course, because that’s where she was. I was just in time, but she didn’t get an epidural or anything because it all happened so fast. Hell, she almost had Missy in the hallway. I got into the room, and she screamed at me, asking me where I’d been. Now, Missy made a very fast entrance after that, and I’m talking like. Two or three minutes. So they let us hold her, cleaned her up, took her away and all that, and then Clara looked at me, and she was absolutely exhausted. She cussed me out, and then told me I was bleeding.” 

You gasped softly. “No.” 

“Yeah!” Marcus laughed. “I had this massive cut on my face! I needed stitches, and Clara was so worried. But when I got back from getting my stitches, she was dead asleep. And honestly, our little Christmas miracle cannot get any more exciting than Missy.” 

You nodded, rubbing your stomach. “It hurts.” 

Marcus bit his lip. “I hear you,” he said softly, kissing your forehead. “I hear you. It’ll be over before you know it, and then we can take our beautiful baby home, okay?” 

At that moment, the doctor came back, tying her blonde hair up. “So!” She said cheerily. “The nurse told me you two refrained from seeing your baby’s gender. We have some news about that.” 

You and Marcus both looked at each other, worried. “Why?” You asked. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing is wrong,” the doctor reassured. “Your baby is very healthy. Both of them, in fact.” 

“Both?” You yelled, at the same time Marcus began to shake his head, eyes wide with shock. “What do you mean both?” 

The doctor pulled her gloves on, resting a hand on your knee. “You’re having twins Mrs. Moreno.” 

You turned to Marcus, who had gone white as a sheet. “I hate you.” 

“Y’know,” Marcus said weakly. “I think I agree with that statement.” 

The doctor laughed. “Don’t you worry,” she said, lifting the bottom of your gown and nodding to herself. “You’re all in position to have a natural birth, and we have plenty of time for that epidural.” 

“Good,” you said, still glaring at Marcus. 

The anesthesiologist came in and instructed you and Marcus to keep your eyes closed while he gave you your epidural. You did, gripping Marcus’s hands as tightly as you could, your face buried firmly in his shoulder. He shifted in front of you, resting his forehead against yours. “Breathe babe, you have to breathe.” 

Once the epidural was done and over with, your pain went way down. You were slightly hungry, and still definitely hurting, but the pain had subsided enough for you to actually take a nap. 

When you woke, it was nearer to noon, and the doctor came to check on your progress. 

“Not yet,” she said, shaking her head. “Try taking a walk. I would usually recommend the gardens, because they’re close, but it’s winter.” 

Which was how you and Marcus ended up slowly wandering down the halls of the hospital, you clutching his arm for balance. 

“Still mad at you,” you grumbled at one point. “Fucking twins. We couldn’t even name one baby.” 

Marcus chuckled. “Well. It seems Missy’s birth could be topped.” 

You punched his arm, a ripple of pain hitting you and causing you to gasp. “Marcus,” you whined softly. “Back to the room, please.” 

Despite the epidural, you were really starting to feel pain now, screwing your face up every few minutes. Marcus sat by your bed, reading a book out loud to you, but it did little to distract you. 

By the time two pm had rolled around, you were pretty much in agony. Marcus had abandoned the book in favor of whispering soft comforts and smoothing sweat soaked hair off your face. 

“Okay!” The doctor said. She’d taken some time to get everything ready and grab a few more nurses, so it was now two twenty. “Mrs. Moreno, I think it’s time to push.” 

You took a deep breath. Marcus was right beside you, holding both your hands. You poked the power restraint bracelet he wore, huffing out a small laugh. “Really?” 

“Most of the things here are metal,” Marcus explained with a grin. “And my powers tend to flare when I get stressed.” 

The doctor smiled. “Ready?” 

You nodded, preparing yourself for what was about to happen. 

Even so, you were not ready. 

Forty five minutes and much screaming later, both you and Marcus were exhausted, but there were two babies in the room. 

“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Moreno,” the doctor said softly, handing you the swaddled babies. “Two perfectly healthy little girls. Identical, we believe.” 

You smiled wearily down at the babies. “Welcome,” you whispered, kissing both of their foreheads. “Clara and Vanessa Moreno.” 

You heard a sniffle to your right and looked over, seeing Marcus crying. He delicately took Clara from you, a watery grin blooming across his face. “She looks just like my old Clara.” 

Smiling, you leaned closer to Marcus. “If she’s even half the woman Clara was, I will be so immensely proud of her.” 

“I’ll be proud of them no matter what.” 

You looked down at Vanessa, who was, even as a newborn, so clearly a spitting image of her father. “Me too.” 

Marcus handed a nearby nurse Clara and looked down at his hands, both of which were bright red. “Babe.” 

“What?” 

He held his hands up. His left index finger was at an odd angle, and both his palms had tiny crescent shaped cuts in them.

“Okay?” You argued playfully, handing another nurse Vanessa. “You put fucking twins in me!” 

Marcus shrugged. “Y’know,” he said. “I feel like that’s fair.” 

That night, after the girls had been fed and napped, and you had been too, Missy and Anita came to visit. You held Clara, knowing Marcus was in the bathroom with Vanessa.

“Missy,” you said to her, seeing her wide eyed expression. “This is your little sister Clara.” 

Missy reached a hand out to her sister, slowly touching her little hat. “She looks like Dad.” 

“Where is Marcus?” Anita asked, standing on your other side. “How many of his fingers did you break?” 

You laughed. “Three.” 

“Really?” Missy said. 

“Nah.” You readjusted Clara a tiny bit. “I broke one and gave him a few cuts from my nails.” 

Anita laughed. “That’s my daughter-in-law!” 

“Are you talking about me out there?” Marcus’s voice echoed from the bathroom. 

“Yes!” Anita called back. “Come here, I want to congratulate you for having a second beautiful little girl.” 

Marcus opened the door. “Might wanna change that number Mama.” 

Anita gasped, seeing tiny Vanessa in her father’s arms. “You did not!” 

“I already told him I hated him,” you said jokingly, nudging a seemingly frozen Missy. “Honey, you have another sister.” 

Missy blinked, looking at Vanessa. “But.” 

“No one knew,” you said softly. “But we love her just as much.” 

Anita smiled. “Well damn,” she said. “Marcus, I cannot believe it.” 

“Oh I’m fairly certain she’s gonna hunt me for sport as soon as she can walk,” Marcus said, looking at you. “Missy, honey, why don’t you sit on the bed with Mom.” 

Missy did, looking surprised when Marcus slowly lowered Vanessa into her lap. 

“Just like that,” Marcus said, sitting cross legged across from Missy on the bed. “Cradle her head, there you go.” 

You let Anita take Clara, watching her settle in a wayward chair. “Well Mr. Moreno,” you said sleepily, tugging Marcus closer to you. “Merry Christmas. I am never going to be able to get you a better gift.” 

Marcus laughed. “Merry Christmas darling. And I very much agree.”

If you liked this, I do dialogue prompt requests as well! Go request something if you want!

#we can be heroes #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #pedro pascal #my writing

[room-on-broom]

Clippers and Pins

Update- Chapter Two

Following the events of The Hair Witch Project, Miss Drill took some drastic action to get rid of the bubble gum. A few months later she and her Secret girlfriend Miss Hardbroom might regret it.

The Worst Witch 98 itv series. HBDrill. Rated T, drama romance Humour, secret relationship, secret relationship that is not really a secret, accidental/forced outing. Final chapter is up Wednesday.

Ao3 link

FanFiction .net link

Or read here.

“So, how long have you two been together?”

Constance nearly missed her seat and sat down harder than intended. Imogen meanwhile coughed around the rim of her water bottle. and felt all the blood drain from her face to her feet then run back up again. Whereas Constance went suddenly pink to back to pale. Well paler.

Amelia, had paused in taking a bite of her budget bourbon crème equivalent. but said nothing. She then continued to say nothing but merely gave the biscuit a second dunk in her tea. the headmistress pretended to pay mind to the mantlepiece, absolutely not listening to the conversation; With the disinterested rapt attention one pays to juicy drama, no sir.

“Pardon?” Imogen spluttered.

“You two? You and Constance.” Lavina said plainly.

“I - Don’t know what you mean!” Constance said. Very aware that the pitch of her voice was getting higher with every word.

“Me neither!” Imogen agreed; both women now Willing Lavina to shut the heck up. She didn’t.

“Well, together? You know, in love, stepping out? Better halves? Dating?” Lavina frowned. And winced. “Or is it not at that ‘going steady’ point yet? Oh dear."

Imogen looked at Constance for help. Only to get the same look back from the witch before they both started talking over each other to keep up appearances.

“we’re not-!"

“there isn’t an us.”

“Is this something the students have said?”

“Where did you get such an idea?”

“Never- “

“ridiculous.”

“I would say Miss Crotchet,” Amelia put in, finally speaking up and answering Lavinia’s question. “that they’ve been going steady for ten months, three weeks, five days, eighteen hours and around forty-seven minutes. Give or take.”

Imogen gasped, violently.

“You told her?” Constance shrilled, suddenly rounded on Amelia. Something she would never normally ever do to the headmistress, at least not in that tone. Miss Cackle didn’t seem concerned. “Miss Cackle you promised!”

“I didn’t say anything!” Amelia huffed. and carried on with her cheese-wedge sandwich. “aside from just now.”

“she told you?” Imogen said, gawking from Amelia to Constance. Which was fair. It went completely against what they’d agreed.

“Well No but-!” her girlfriend started. Unused to being the one in trouble.

“Constance has said absolutely nothing to me about you two.” Amelia assured her. “She came to me for advice a while ago- just over a year ago, even. because she was struggling to articulate her feelings for someone and was finding the whole palaver distressing and confusing. That’s what she’s referring to. That's all. No names mentioned.”

Then added, “Although it was hardly going to be Frank Blossom or Icy Stevens now was it?”

Constance stopped wishing Lavina to shut up. And instead started wishing the floor would open up beneath her. It didn't. In a very rare moment of shooketh outside of her rooms, Constance put her elbows on the table. And then her head in her hands and biting down a scream.

“Oh. was it supposed to be a secret?” Lavina asked, looking about the three of them, one to the other. “I haven't heard anything from the girls actually so I just assumed it wasn’t.”

“You’re aware that sentence makes no sense whatsoever.” Constance spat looking up. She felt dangerously close to a rage.

“Well, if it's a secret everyone’s talking about it.” Lavina reasoned. “You only have to hear a girl say ‘I know something you don’t know’ And it goes around the school, twice, like wildfire before lunch time!”

“Good point.” Imogen sighed, begrudgingly. She was folding in on herself, shoulder up to her ears.

“and when asked such a question people normally simply say yes or no, rather than making a whole drama of it. very obvious.” Amelia put in. Constance Stopped being pale and went very violent pink in the cheeks instead again. While Imogen did the opposite and went pale under the tan.

“I-!" she tried. “I- that is. We." It was no good. Her tongue seemed to be just tying itself in the most complicated of yoga shapes.

They had talked about ‘it’ of course they had. A big coming out, or more preferably some quiet form of acknowledgement. But whenever they'd even thought about planning such a thing, Constance had found any confidence and control going right out the window.it was the sort of thing that had got her in very deep trouble before now. Imogen had envisioned coming out to family, her employer and other people. Or more she’d had visions about being outed to them, and she struggled to think positivity about it. even with Constance’s attempted reassurances that same sex relations weren’t illegal or as frowned upon in the magical world. in all her nightmares however, they’d never been reactions or questions like this though.

No one seemed surprised for one thing and no one was ‘angry’ but how unfazed and that miss cackle had known and everything felt so off kilter and unreal and-!

“You’re not mad.” She blurted out addressing Miss Cackle.

“Mad? No, why would I be?” Amelia said. “goodness, Imogen are you alright?”

“No.” Imogen said plainly. Is this what panic attacks feel like? She wondered. Davina had always complained of them. and palpitations. but she’d also complained the cats were taking the kiwi fruit so there was that. Maybe this was just a shock? Constance Stopped being angry slash upset, and looked up sharply now concerned.

“it's just -well. We’re tighter. And we work together?” Imogen tried.

“So?” Amelia said. “So long as it does no harm to anyone and the gals are always top priority I don’t see any cause for concern! That said, I would much appreciate it if you sneak off together during a celebration when the Chief Wizard is visiting again. I know you both find him irritating but it wasn’t subtle. It was extremely obvious to everyone but him. Do you know how hard that was to cover up on the cuff?”

Constance let out a string of stammered high-pitched noises also struggling to make words. But was cut off and distracted by Imogen shaking her head, sending her hair flicking back and forth.

“nothing I- I I don’t understand.” She said, still Bewildered and Looking again to Constance to help. Constance Tried to help this time, reaching over and patting Imogen’s hand in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. dimly aware it probably ruined any chance of denying they were in a relationship. Imogen turned her hand over and Gave Constance fingers a quick trembling barely-there squeeze.

“you mean we’re not going to be dismissed?” Imogen pressed.

“What!?” the other two said together, Lavina nearly dropped her tea.

“Why on earth Would I do that?” Miss Cackle frowned. Imogen had lost her nerve again.

“Well, normal schools. Non-witch schools. They take a dim view of such things,” Constance supplied awkwardly when the headmistress looked at her questionably. Constance prided herself on normally being so articulate but the words were like bindweed in her throat, thick and twisty up around themselves. “Miss Dri- Imogen’s been – rightly- upset. by the news in December. I tried to explain- but. That. Well. You wouldn’t say. but then there’s the matter of the school guvnors and the parents-?”

Imogen nodded, as she spoke; gripping Constance’s hand a tad to tight. Amelia cringed realising what Constance was getting at. After a primary school mistress a few towns south being hounded out her career by homophobic parents had made the headlines, Imogen had become very withdrawn. And keener on keeping their relationship a secret. The news even made it to more magical news outlets like Witch Weekly and the Original Standard. If only to point and laugh in a sensualized wow look at these bigoted non-magical idiots’ way.

“Oh goodness yes you’re not a witch and all your old jobs were at no witch schools.” Amelia started, making things both better and worse.

“What about non-magical schools?” Lavina asked, confused.

Amelia Winced loudest of the three and explained. “there was a case in December. it seems They take a very- dim view of same sex romances. Let alone two women teachers in the same school becoming a couple. Some funny ideas about what makes a scandal. Different rules too. I can’t say I’ve ever understood it.”

“ooh. Ah. Well. We’re not a non-witch school now are we.” Lavinia said brightly adding “No offence.”

Imogen flashed a stiff brief smile vaguely, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. The awkward atmosphere was, to Constance, stifling. She had half a mind to vanish. Or vanish and take Imogen with her. But she supposed Imogen needed to hear this.

“Agreed. as I said when you took the position here, it was our gain.” Amelia continued. “If anyone has an issue they can come and see me and I will tell them straight- well- I will tell them tough. Views be damned, your references were otherwise impeccable, especially those from Heversum High!”

(Which was a bit of a fib. Imogen’s references had been glowing. until after that stupid basketball game and the subsequent rematch where Ms Pike was mysteriously absent. And then the anonymous messages Addressed to Miss Crackle and deputy Miss Harddroom started appearing. Not that they’d told Imogen that bit; or believed a word of the letter. Headmistress and deputy agreed to keep that Strictly between themselves. and while Constance had wanted to burn those letters and track down the sender, Amelia had been the one to lock them away. Something about taking the proper channels…)

Imogen nodded at the headmistress' mini speech but kept her eyes on the table, half hidden by her sweeping fringe. As Amelia spoke, Constance, still concerned, pulled her hand away; but got up, moved around the table and bent over at Imogen’s side and gave her shoulder a gentle shake. The bend became crouched and a kneel when she got no response. Imogen looked up at her then. And was breathing at least. Constance looked back, imploringly at her, hoping to convey something good. And dimly aware this action will most definitely ruin any chance of denying they were together.

“Plus, if I were to dismiss you- which I won’t-! I would have to fire all other romantic entanglements.” Amelia continued. “And I'd not only lose two very good teachers, my deputy being one. but also, our school cook and one of the our most enthusiastic handymen – horticultural college or no. Both of whose families have had long standing traditions within the school.”

“they’re still not an item.” Imogen argued, finding her voice. “that’s been going on for years!”

“Mr Blossom keeps losing his nerve. Last minute usually.” Constance put in.

“you’re one to talk.” Amelia scolded. Constance scowled and pouted. It made imogen smile a little but still-!

“and Maria told me she won’t make the first move.” Lavinia nodded. "which seems very silly to me. They clearly like each other very much, in a romantic way.”

“Alright, Alright, but still a school runs on its staff. Do you see where I’m coming from? I’m sorry you were worried I would do such a thing Imogen. And you’ve my assurance who you are with or love will not ever be used against you here. You as well Constance. You both do.” Amelia pressed. Firmly.

And then in trying to put imogen at ease added “Or I won’t have kept dear old Lilly on the books ethier, now would I?”

It sort of worked.

“I suppose not.” Imogen conceded. Then chuckled, “that went on for years too.”

“What did?” Constance asked.

“Ms Gimlet?” Imogen replied.

“I know who you’re talking about. What about her?” Constance asked.

“Who’s Ms Gimlet?” Lavina asked. She had budged up into Constance’s vacant seat to let Constance get up off the floor and Sit next to Imogen. They still held hands, joined on Imogen’s knee under the table.

“A former rarely seen history and theory teacher, and second year mistress. Exceptionally anxious about everything.” Constance explained haughtily. “Went off and retired to the inner hebrides to calm her nerves last year.”

“And the biggest lesbian I’ve ever met.” Amelia said. Imogen nodded. “Present company accepted.”

“Indeed… Wait. what?” Constance said.

Imogen and Amelia turned to look at her.

“Lilly Gimlet…?” Imogen said. “She’s gay?”

Constance looked back at her blankly. “She was?”

“Good grief.” Amelia frowned. “Constance Hardbroom you are an intelligent woman but I really do despair sometimes”

“Constance, even I knew that?” Imogen frowned. “I know things like pride flags and double axes as symbols are different with witches, but she was as straight as you or I. Lilly wouldn’t say boo to a mouse, never mind a goose. But could quote the entire chunks “A queer history of wizards” if you let her. Had a massive crush on Miss Pentangle from what Davina told me.”

“The retreat in the Inner Hebrides is lesbian witch commune. Also Ms Gimlet flirted with you constantly. and blatantly. When she could work up the nerve to come to the staff room or the hall that is. In front of the girls too, which wasn’t really on given some of the innuendo. The only reason I didn’t address that was because I could never find the woman when I wanted to.” Amelia complained.

"…that, was flirting?” Constance frowned, her nose wrinkling. Imogen and Miss Cackle almost in sync both one handed facepalmed. Lavina clamped both hands over her mouth to muffle slightly hysterical giggles.

“I'm pretty certain Miss bat had a beau in the village poetry club as well.” Amelia continued. Also, Slightly muffled. “An on off thing with Ms Mechanic over at Scatterbrook farm.”

“She kept that quiet!” Imogen blinked, surprised.

“That's about the only thing she did keep quiet.” Constance's scowled, even if it was still her turn to look very confused.

“Better than you two did.” Amelia grumbled.

:D

#the worst witch #worst witch 98 #stories #fanfiction #hbdrill #constance hardbroom #imogen drill #amelia cackle #lavinia crotchet #worst witch

[heavenunderthemoon]

Can we get JJ and daughter reader where the reader bio father comes back

ROOM 286

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse, blood, death, abandonment. 

This piece is extremely angsty, I didn't even mean for it to happen it just kinda came to me while writing last night, enjoy:)

Sanitizer.

It smelled of sanitizer and something else. Something heavy, pulling you down, the scent dragging against the floor as you walked along with it, sneakers hitting the freshly waxed floor with a squeak. What was that smell?

It could have been anything, walking among the halls of that hospital, a hospital you had never been to, a hospital far away from your home, from Quantico.

Blood, maybe. Blood leaving someone else's body, a severe injury or just a small wound. Or blood entering someone else's body. A transfusion, a hope to save someone's life, a wish to stay alive for just a while longer. Blood, scarlet and distinct, heavy and substantial, entering or leaving.

Or death. Perhaps the heaviness was the mere proximity of death that hospitals seemed to have. Hospitals were like a precipice, a border between the living and the dead. Some who entered simply never left, and those who didn't were walking behind you, mirroring your footsteps, following your direction. It was the darkness of death, the souls of those that were lost covering the hospital like a shroud. The weight of those souls, the anger, dread, and our sadness that filled them weighed them down, pulling the hospital with it.

You had never liked hospitals.

"This is his room."

Your mother's voice was taut, laced with pain and something else. Bitterness, maybe? You snuck a glance toward her. She was still dressed in her work clothes, having practically sprinted off the jet to grab you from the house. Her gun was holstered, resting on her hip directly next to her badge that clipped to her belt loop. It gleamed under the fluorescent lights of the hospital, and you looked away, back to your mother's face.

She was crying, albeit small. Tears pooled in her eyes, the bright blue you had stared into for your entire life. Her teeth were sinking into her bottom lip, tiny sniffles escaping every so often, as if attempting to console herself as to not let you hear it. She never liked you to see her cry, not even after those stupid, cheesy romance movies that the two of you rented out every Valentine's Day. The woman was still operating under that archaic belief that once you turned an adult, once you became a parent, your emotions were supposed to simply leave you, become secondary to your child. You wished she wasn't. You wished you could take her hand and let her know she could cry but the entire situation at the moment, the real-life fever dream had you incredibly uncertain of how to handle anything that came next. Your hands clenched in your jacket pockets, glancing back to the room before you.

Room 286.

"Your father is dying, Y/N."

A glance back to Will in the kitchen had made you furrow your brows. The LaMontagne man was whistling as he cooked, fingers clenched around a wooden spoon being used to stir the noodles in the pot. Will was an excellent chef, and you had just gotten your report card back for the first semester- straight A's (and one B, but it was math, and both Will and your mother knew how much you absolutely loathed the subject, and so they took that as a win). The dinner was celebratory in a way, nothing too fancy  you didn't like all the fuss, nor did you want to have to make your mother miss a nice dinner in a restaurant that passed out free breadsticks before a meal (she would argue that any restaurant that did so was, automatically her favorite, no matter if the bread was crappy and stale). And so, pasta at home it was, and you had even negotiated Will's famous peanut-butter cookies for dessert. Henry sat on the counter beside him, giggling at his father's horrible dance moves. They were off-beat, choppy, and out-dated, but it made both Henry and you laugh uncontrollably when he did them, and so he continued.

The sun was just setting and your mother was on a case. She liked to call before bedtime when she was away, enough time to coax Henry into a sleepy stupor, to tell him goodnight, and to let you know how much longer she would be gone. You would tell her about your day, and she hers. The two of you would talk for forty-five minutes if she had time, ten if she didn't. But the sound of your phone ringing at dinnertime hadn't made you think anything was wrong. Perhaps she was calling early, or maybe she just wanted to hear your voice. That happened sometimes too, when the cases were especially heinous.

"What?" You asked confusedly. Will was looking at you with a raised brow, mouthing a 'You okay?', to which you didn't quite have an answer for. Instead, you shrugged, holding up a finger as a signal to give you a minute, before you were exiting the room. The playroom was a mess, Henry rarely ever picked up his toys. You sidestepped two matchbox cars before you stepped on a lego, hissing at the pain and walking over it irritatedly. For as small as he was, he sure could create a mess.

A pregnant pause.

"It's Christopher." Another pause. You were starting to hate those. "Your birthfather... He's dying."

Your breath seemed to have been stolen, and the last of your air hitched in your throat, eyes becoming unfocused. How were you supposed to react to this? You weren't entirely sure. your birth father, a man you didn't know, a stranger, really. You didn't know anything about him.

Horrible thoughts began to flood your mind.

You didn't know what he looked like. You inherited a lot of traits- too many traits, honestly- from your mother, so you had never thought to ask. You were a bit taller than your mother...was that him? Was that his genetics coming into play? What color eyes did he have? What did his smile look like? You didn't know small things either. How did he like his eggs cooked? What method of shoe-tying did he prefer (bunny loops or round-a-bouts)? Dogs or cats? Movies or books? Did he watch T.V. with the captions on or off?  You didn't know his favorite book genre, or band, or what foods he didn't like. You didn't know any of these things about him, about your father.

You knew these things about Will, of course. Because when you thought of 'father', Will was the first thing that came to mind. It had been that way for a while, so perhaps the fulfillment of the 'father' role in your brain was obscuring your mind, but you were wracking your brain to remember the last time you had thought of your brith father. But, then again, maybe you shouldn't have, because now, flashing before your mind were not saccharine , wholesome stories, but memories of empty chairs in audiences, uncelebrated Father's days, and 'Father-daughter' dances with Derek, or Reid, or Hotch.  Sour thoughts and memories of an absentee father who left your mother in the lurch, abandoned her in her time of need, was that bad to think of he was dying? Were you supposed to be nice now? You weren't sure the rules of this arrangement.

"What?" It was weak and strangled, as if someone had clutched your throat right then and there and squeezed.

"He's at Saint Mercer's. It looks like an overdose, he had a stroke. It was too much for his body, and the doctors declared him brain dead. I was his emergency contact, and..." Your mother was speaking, rambling from the tone of her voice. She was in shock, surely, and you were only half-listening.

An overdose.

You wondered what you'd find on the other side of the door.

"Are you ready?"

Your mother was speaking, but she didn't sound like she was...there. You were sure she wasn't. No, she hadn't been there ever since she had gotten you, taken you to that airport, boarded you on the first flight out, planted you both in front of room 286 in Saint Mercer's Hospital. Her eyes were glazed over, as if replaying every single moment with the man she had once known , the man she had created another child, her first child, with. A man she hadn't seen for entirely too long, and a man she hadn't ever expected to see again. A man she wouldn't even recognize, surely, because he wasn't a man when he left. You weren't sure if he had ever become a man. To your mother, he had been a boy, just a boy and a girl, in childish love, until they weren't.

"Are you?" You countered, eyes glued onto the wooden door separating you and a man you should know, but had no relation to.

For the fist time that night, she smiled.

She smiled because despite it being the most unfair situation in the world- a situation in which she was placed as an emergency contact for a man who intentionally left her when she was pregnant with his child (placed as an emergency contact in hopes to either advocate for them to try harder to save his life, or to let him go if need be, which, ironically, he had abandoned her completely without regards to treat her reciprocally)- you were there. You, her shining hope, a silver lining in the entirety of it all. You were the one thing that made her not regret a single decision she had made with the man, made her not regret meeting him in the first place, because she had gotten you. Your hair was shoved into a baseball cap, Will's, she recognized. It usually hung on the coat rack by the door, the man tugging it on whenever he went to the store or to pick Henry up from school. It was sun-damaged, tearing at the lip, but he refused to buy a new one because 'that just means it was well-loved, JJ.'. And now it sat on your head, a hat that belonged to a man you had met six years ago, a man you called Dad, willingly and without any input from her. You, a girl who had gone without a father for so long. Years of Father's Day cards, heart-wrenchingly sweet cards made out to Reid, or Derek, or Hotch because they volunteered to take you to your dances, even if she had offered to go, because you said you didn't think it would be allowed for her to crash it. Cards made out to her, thanking her for being both the mom and the dad (those tended to make her cry a lot). Years of ballet recitals, soccer games, spelling bees, silly school graduations, all of which she happily attended, but attended alone. All the nights of fevers and stomach aches and sniffles and dry throats. All the diaper changes and reverse cycling. All the scraped knees, busted elbows, trips to the ER. And now you were here, in front of the man who had abandoned you before you had even let out your horridly beautiful wail. JJ felt so many emotions at once, swelling within her that she reached out, grabbing your hand.

You weren't sure if it was to comfort you or herself, but you took it, entering the room as she opened it.

Machines.

Lots and lots of machines.

They stood at attention by his bedside, beeping and humming so loudly you weren't sure your thoughts would be able to tear their way through your mind anymore. Perhaps stat was a good thing.

There he was, lying in the bed before you. A standard hospital blanket was draped across his lower half. It was cream and thin, you recalled your days spent in a hospital not too long ago, how much you had hated it then. Those blankets were always itchy and uncomfortable, and you had all but forced Penelope to bring you one from home, to which she happily obliged, toting an assortment of stuffed animals as well (you argued you were too old for them, to which she had responded that no one was too old for comfort brought about by a stuffed animal.). His hands were resting limply at his sides, and you forced your eyes to skip over his arms, the damage an indicator of the activities he had chosen over taking care of you for the past decade.

When you reached his face you tilted your head. His face was sullen, cheeks sunken in, lips dried and caked in dead-skin. A redness spread about his face, a sunburn, perhaps, but you weren't sure. His hair, brittle and receding, was brown and you wondered of you had gotten anything from the man. A small part of you hoped you didn't. Looking at him now, you weren't sure if you wanted to. A sudden thought popped into your mind and you turned to your mother, who seemed to try to be looking anywhere but the man before her.

"What color were his eyes?"

They were shut now, and he almost looked...peaceful.

JJ lips parted, eyes coming to meet yours. "Brown." She said softly. Her hand was still in yours and you didn't make a move to drop it.

You nodded, glancing back to him. Something was missing, you gazed around the small hospital room to find what it was before it came to you. "Where is everyone? His family, or friends? Do they know he's here?" You looked back to the man, eyes following the rise and fall of his chest created by the ventilators attached to him.

The blonde stiffened, looking at her shoes. "They do. They won't come." With a clear of her throat, she was glancing back to you, your face softening as your teeth took your lip in their hold.

He was alone.

Was that by choice? Or had he run away from them like he had run away from you and your mother?

The doctor entered the rom, signaling for your mother to speak with her, and she left with a squeeze of your hand, leaving you with...him.

What were you to call him? Christopher? Dad?

Alone.

He was alone. His parents weren't coming to see him, he didn't have any friends. No loved ones to hold his hand in his time of need, to tell him it was going to be okay, to tell him that he was safe, and loved, and would be remembered. Regardless of his past actions, you felt...awful. Looking at him, you couldn't feel anything other than immense sympathy, because he had pushed away everyone and everything in his life, and he was left with nothing. You pondered his appearance, wondering what he must have looked like back when he had met your mother, what had drawn her in to him, made her love him and want him and that thought train had you reaching for his hand. Your mother didn't love without reason. She was logical, and fair-minded, and welcoming, and you knew that if she had loved a man, the man before you, it must've been for a good reason. And so, you couldn't judge him based on what was before you, because that was a result of all of his bad choices, all of his digressions and, yes, they were horrible, but they had also allowed your mother to meet Will. It allowed them to have Henry, it allowed you to have a family, a perfect family, and now all you felt was sympathy. No anger. No pain. Just sadness.

His hand was warm, surprisingly. What would it have been like to grow up with his hand, one to put in yours when you crossed the street, to feel your forehead when you said you felt sick, to help tie your shoes when you were still learning?  

The beeps of the machines sang louder as you stepped closer.

"Nice to meet you." You said softly, closing your eyes for just a moment. Just enough time for you to feel the weight of his hand in yours, to reassure yourself that this was real, that you were there, before you were opening them again.

When you did, your mother was back in the room.

Your mother's heart almost broke when she entered. The doctor needed her signature, needed a confirmation that they could remove life support, and her shaky hand had signed beside the 'x' with tear-filled eyes. And when she returned back to that godforsaken room, a room in which she felt all the air was removed, a room in which she felt suffocated, she saw you. Your hand in his, an image she had imagined in her head over and over and over again when you were growing up, a pipe dream, really.  A dream in which he suddenly got his act together, came back to find the both of you, declared his love for her, and begged for forgiveness for leaving. It was a dream that she wasn't even sure she wanted to happen so much as wondered if it would. Because you two didn't need him, she would attest that you two didn't need anyone, not really. Not before Will and Henry. You two were strong and independent. Jareau women were fighters. But still, she had thought about Christopher, and now that dream was shattered because instead of him holding flowers, he was hooked up to a life support machine, brain dead and unresponsive.

She wanted to yell. She wanted to yell and laugh and cry because this wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. She wanted to stomp her feet and throw herself to the floor like a toddler throwing a tantrum but it just...wasn't fair. She couldn't yell at him because he couldn't respond. She couldn't yell at him, because he was practically already dead, and he had left the decision for someone to give him the final blow to her. Her, a woman he had neglected, and your hand was in his, and everything was wrong.

Her feet took her to you, despite every cell in her body attempting to make her turn around.

"They're gonna unplug him, right?" She had told you on the way there that it was a strong possibility, depending on his state. But saying it aloud made it feel much more real. It shouldn't feel so absurd, you scolded. He was never in your life anyway, it wouldn't particularly make a difference. But, in some strange, bizarre way, it did It made a difference because now, Christopher wasn't just some man who abandoned you, he was a dead man who abandoned you.

"Yes." Her voice was small, and you latched onto her once more.

"He's all alone." You said with a frown, and she removed her hand from yours, instead, choosing to drape her arm across your shoulder and bring you into her embrace. Doctors were beginning to enter the room, beginning to explain what each machine did, the consequences of unplugging it, and then doing so quietly, though neither of you were listening.

"He is." She nodded, blonde hair rubbing against the side of your face.

You both stood silent for a moment watching the doctors continue.

"Tell me about him. When you loved him."

JJ sucked in a breath. She had only thought about the bad for so long, only thought about the moment his hand was no longer hers, his retreating figure as she clutched that pregnancy test in her hand, that panic in her chest as she realized she would have to do this alone. "He transferred to my high school in my sophomore year. Everybody went nuts. We didn't get new people in town...ever. But there he was. His hair was a mess," She glanced toward you, a soft smile replacing the frown she had been wearing. "Kinda like yours when you wake up."

"Hey." You mumbled into her shoulder, but you laughed all the same.

"We had a few classes together and he never let me forget it. Chris bugged me almost every minute of them, passing me notes, trying to talk to me, asking me out. I swore I wouldn't, I was too focused on soccer. But, he wore me down."

You rose a brow. "Wore you down? I didn't think that was possible."

She chuckled, the vibrations from it were felt on your cheek. "It wasn't before him. He was...different. He was a total music snob, spent almost all his money on the latest releases. He liked to take me swimming, said everything, all the bad things and all the troubles just floated away when you were in the water."

You looked back to the man in the bed, the doctors having turned off all the machines by now. Now, it was just a waiting game.

"That sounds silly." You whispered.

"It was. But, then again, so was he. He was carefree, spirited, and laid back. He hated the thought of having to grow up one day, said that being an adult was a life sentence to nowhere. Your grandparents hated him, but I didn't care. He was my first love."

You took in all the information, watching the ragged rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his wheezing making you cringe. "Would he have been good dad, you think?"

JJ thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. He chose to run. But I don't think he was suited for being a dad. I think he wouldn't have liked the responsibility of it all." She said thoughtfully, squeezing your shoulder before she was placing her head atop yours. "I know, without a doubt, that he would have loved you, though."

A snort escaped your lips. "Really?" You asked doubtfully.

"Oh, for sure. I think that if he had met you, he would have tried his best to be there, to be there for you. You both do that thing when you get mad, where you nose twitches like a little bunny and it's so cute that no one can ever stay mad at you. Or when you're tired, your eyes droop down and you can sleep instantly, no matter where you are. You both like rock music, and comedy movies, and blankets when they're fresh out of the dryer-"

"I don't think anyone can hate blankets when they're fresh out of the dryer."

She chuckled. "And you both hate peas. I swear, I tried to feed them to you when you were little and you actually scoffed at me. A seventh month old baby, scoffing at me."

"Hmm, wonder where I learned that from."

JJ rolled her eyes. "And you both have a big heart. Sometimes, his heart was so big, that he didn't quite know what to with it. You're better with following it, but you both have it. Just, too much love to give, and he never knew where to place it."

Silence settled over the two of you once more, the wheezing become quieter.

It was just you and her. You and her and the man in the bed. Her arms around you, chin atop your head as you lay in the crook of her neck.

"Are you sad?" you asked softly.

She took three breaths before she answered. "Yes."

You looked back at Christopher, imagining a relationship, one that included movie nights and car rides filled with shared music interests and dinners that revolved around your hatred of snow peas. But the image was foreign and fleeting, and all you could see was Will in your kitchen, producing horrible dance moves and whistled melodies. You could only see Henry shaking you awake. Reality reminded you of the life you actually lived, one without a Dad for a small amount of time, and then finding one. A life without Christopher. Your life and his. Ones that should have been lived together, but never were.

"Me too."

And the wheezing ceased.

Well damn. ANYWAYS, I’m so happy people are liking my JJxdaughter!reader content. It’s so strange because I really thought it wouldn't get much attention so that’s a fun surprise. Let me know what you think about this piece!

#Jennifer Jareau x daughter! reader #jennifer jareau x reader #Jennifer Jareau #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds

[mrslilyrogers]

Betrayal Part 7

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him?

Author’s notes: I’m so so sorry this took so long! I redid the whole thing. We’re going to back up a bit in this chapter and visit the past. Please check the warnings before reading. Also, my requests are open. Send ideas if you’re feeling particularly angsty! Or even fluff, I’d like to try my hand at it. As always, let me know what you think of this chapter! For tags, please send in ask! 

Warnings: Cheating, Angst, Abuse, Swearing

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6

2 years ago.

Bucky tapped his fingers on the table as he checked his watch again. 8:15. Forty-five minutes late. Again. He let out a huge sigh, barely able to hold himself from scratching his eyes out. The curly-haired waitress went back to him with an apologetic look on her face, “I’m sorry, sir. My manager told me I really need to take your order now. There’s already a line waiting outside…” she let her sentence trail sheepishly. Bucky tried to ignore the heat creeping up his cheeks and gave her an unconvincing smile instead, reciting his order. When she left with visible relief on her face, he picked up his phone and called his wife again. He had tried to call and text her earlier but she hadn’t picked up.

“Hello?” Y/N answered, sounding frazzled and irritated as she cleaned up after her rude customer. He just had the audacity to leave a mess after complaining and whining about the wifi three times. She could barely keep her eyes from rolling. 

“Hey, babe. Where are you? I’ve been waiting for you at the restaurant,” Bucky’s defeated voice on the other line replied. 

“Oh shit!” She shrieked, attracting the heads of the other customers as she glanced at the clock on the wall. She had lost track of time. Bucky had been waiting for her for almost an hour. On their anniversary. Oh crap, crap, crap. 

“Oh my god, baby. I’m so sorry! I’m understaffed and I lost track of time! Could you please wait for me? I’m so sorry!” She quickly took off her apron and changed into the dress she had brought with her that morning for their date. Bucky had been planning this. He arranged for Lizzie’s babysitter and everything, practically bouncing off with excitement for this night. He wanted to try out this new restaurant and between raising Lizzie and making sure Winter Bakery was still making a profit, they haven’t seen much of each other lately. She just couldn’t find the time whereas Bucky’s stable position in Shield gave him more authority to delegate. And he literally had been trained for this for years. All those late-nighters at the university and all the grunt work he and Steve went through have finally paid up. They were at the top of their game, one of the youngest to acquire their positions. They were heroes in the investment banking world. Life was easy for him now, cherry on top of the cake. He only wished Y/N could be there with him. But she was still on shaky ground with her business and he fully understood that. 

“Of course! I already picked our appetizers though. They were trying their best to kick me out gently if I didn’t order anything,” 

“Oh, my poor Bucky. You should’ve flashed them your smile, charmed your way. They would’ve made you stay,” she replied, fixing her ponytail, not having the time to retouch her makeup anymore. This’ll just have to do. 

“Really, now. It was a waitress, you know.” He teased back. 

A beat before Y/N replied in mock seriousness. “In that case, don’t you dare. I’ll be there in 15!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it. See you, babe. I love you--,” 

But before he could even finish his sentence, the line had dropped on the other end.  

_______________________________________________________________________

1 year ago.

“Daddy, look, apples!” Lizzie pointed from her seat in the grocery cart. Her legs swinging as she giggled at the heap of apples on their side. “Yeah, baby, you’re right.” Bucky replied absentmindedly, not even bothering to look as he stared confusedly at the bunch of green vegetables in front of him. The list Y/N gave him said scallions, but how the hell was he supposed to know which was which? Scallions, spring onions, green onions, they were all the same right? He suddenly regretted volunteering to do their grocery shopping alone, having no clue what half of the list Y/N prepared even meant. It was the weekend, they were all supposed to go together and then have a quick visit to the toy store after, for one more of Lizzie’s birthday gifts. She had just turned 3 a week ago and he couldn’t help but promise to let her pick out another doll. When Y/N had given him a pointed look while Lizzie clung on and gushed to him, he couldn’t help but to just give her a tiny shrug. He grew up with nothing, he was gonna give his little girl everything. But that morning when he thought the three of them finally had time to spend together, Y/N couldn’t make it again. She was having problems with her manager and had to go into work unexpectedly. Now, she wasn’t even answering his calls when he had to ask her about the most complicated grocery list he’s ever seen in his whole life. 

“Daddy, when are we getting my doll?” Lizzie asked again, looking up at him as she clutched her favorite white wolf stuffed toy. 

“After this, sweetheart.” He answered, preoccupied and calling Y/N again. This time when she didn’t answer, he gave up, grabbed the one nearest to him and hoped for the best. 

When he’s gotten halfway through the list and let Lizzie point at the snacks she wanted for school, he let his mind wander, when the hell had they become like this? He barely saw his wife anymore. Her problems with her bakery cafe, always dragging her away from them. He wished she could find competent people who would stay but if it weren’t her manager, it was her baker and so on. And if she was finally free, he’d be the one who was busy. It was hard and annoying but coupled that with taking care of an over-enthusiastic three-year-old, it was also exhausting.

He missed Y/N and he wished he could spend time with her. He completely understood that she was always needed at work. He had been through that in their early 20s, but they didn’t have a kid then to compete for their time and understanding it was different from actually living it. Their marriage had become stagnant. The banality of their everyday life, a stark contrast to how they used to be when they were just a couple of kids off college who rented a too-small apartment with his little sister, Becca. Time has flown and he’s finally achieved the life he’s always wanted; a big duplex apartment, a steady high-income job and a family he had always yearned for but never really knew he needed. All of the things he promised himself when he was younger and had nothing, he had now and more, yet there was still something missing. He missed the thrill of his life, chasing his dreams had always kept him motivated, distracted. Now that he had it all, he was at his wits’ end. Maybe it was because they were also growing apart, he could feel it. Y/N had always been able to make him happy and whole; he had always been able to rely on her emotionally. She was the better part of him and now that she was becoming distant, he hung onto her like a lifeline but his insistence on going on vacations as a family wherever his wife and daughter wanted went unheard, all his attempts at romancing cancelled. 

Even as he lined up now for the cashier, he whipped out his phone to text her. His hands had been busy typing when a brooding, dark-haired man stood behind him dressed in all black. His arms were muscled despite his age and the sagging skin on his right arm holding a tattoo of an odd skull with tentacles extending out of it was barely covered by his shirtsleeve. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Bucky,” a familiar husky voice mocked from behind him. 

Bucky immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the voice sending a deep chill down his spine, making him go rigid as he slowly turned around, the blood draining from him when he went face to face with the man who had made his life a living hell, the man who not only broken him physically but in spirit as well. Repeatedly. 

“You some errand boy now? I didn’t raise you to be like that, you know,” He continued to mock, tipping his chin to the cart with Lizzie still on it. 

“Do you know him, daddy?” She asked, holding her little wolf tighter as she watched the stranger warily. 

“Hey there, sweetie. Your daddy didn’t tell you about me? That’s weird. I raised him and your aunt Rebecca a long time ago. My name is Rumlow,” he flashed her a chilling smile, stepping closer to offer his hand. That’s when the fog in Bucky’s brain cleared. He moved with a lightning fast reflex, stepping in between them as he got in Rumlow’s face, fisting his collar harshly in one hand, 

“Don’t you dare go near her,” his dark and low voice had threatened, dripping venom. His eyes had dilated, almost turning black as he shoved him hard. Rumlow’s grating laugh echoed around them, bringing back all those awful memories he had buried deep inside his head. 

“I’ve taught you well, boy. Can’t say I’m not proud,” He clapped and actually smiled at him smugly. At this point, Lizzie had started crying making Bucky even more furious. 

“I don’t ever want to see your face again. And if you go near my daughter again, I’ll make you fucking regret it. Do you understand?” His threats went on deaf ears as Rumlow broke out into a full-fledged grin. 

“I’d love to see you try, James. You’ve grown soft,” He accused, eyeing Lizzie and the grocery he had still lined up, several heads already looking at them. 

“Lucky for you. I have a new son here,” He continued, tilting his head to the boy standing by his mostly empty cart-- save for the beer and the liquor. Bucky flicked his attention to the boy and he felt his world spin as he saw himself in him with his eyes haunted, wary and afraid. He couldn’t have been older than eight. Rumlow smirked at the look on Bucky’s face, already detecting the turmoil brewing inside him. He had succeeded. He always knew Bucky was weak, his emotions his downfall. The fear and guilt clearly written in Bucky’s eyes made Rumlow gloat as he talked to the boy, 

“What did I say, Bert, huh? You’ll only have food if you go get it yourself. Why are you still standing there?” 

The boy looked around the big grocery store, mentally taking note of the stalls and where they were currently at, memorizing it in case he got lost but still, he didn’t move. Bucky looked at Rumlow and he saw the same look he’d always had directed at him before, his taunting eyes daring the boy to go or face the consequences. 

“But I’m scared,” the boy replied, his voice small and frightened. Rumlow moved to him, bending his knees to get to his eye level. “Well then, you just won’t have to eat,” he told him in a hushed voice, pouting and mocking. 

Bucky didn’t have to hear it to know the exact words, buried memories rushing back to the surface. He heard it countless times directed at him. The boy ran to the nearest stall, his heart pounding and hoping Rumlow would still be at that same spot when he came running back. Bucky knew the feeling, it was like he was living it all over again. As much as he wanted to help, he was rooted to the spot, even Lizzie’s crying couldn’t move him. Rumlow stood back up and faced him. “You were always my favorite,” he told him proudly as he pushed his own cart away from them, no doubt to give Bert an even harder chance of finding him. 

Just before he got too far, he swiftly turned around, feigning innocence as he said, “Oh and by the way, say hi to Rebecca for me,”  His lips twisted up into a sneering smirk as he left, whistling without a care in the world. And just like that Bucky was moving, grabbing Lizzie and getting out of that store as fast as he could, hoping Rumlow would stay out of his life forever. 

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“I’m never letting you do the groceries again!” Y/N screeched, a horrified look on her face as she stared at their fridge. After the incident with Rumlow, Bucky had brought Lizzie to the toy store, allowing her to buy all the stuffed toys and dolls she wanted instead of just the previously promised one doll. They had gone to lunch after, he kept Lizzie distracted as much as possible to forget the man she had just met. When she brought him up again, he told her it was just a friend he didn’t like very much and that she shouldn’t bring it up to her mom because it was nothing, he promised he never had to see that man again. Lizzie seemed satisfied with his answer and went back to her usual chirpy self. On their way home, they passed by another grocery store. He had mindlessly strolled the aisles and grabbed whatever he thought they needed, his head at a different place, much as it still is now.

“Bucky, we don’t need four cartons of milk, why would you even get this?” Y/N asked incredulously, shaking her head as she chuckled. 

Bucky had been staring off into space, not hearing what his wife had been saying. “Uhm, hello Bucky, you still with me?” she teased, waving a hand in front of his face. 

“Oh sorry, what was that?” He asked, glancing up at her from his perch by the kitchen counter. The coffee he had brewed, now cold in his hands. 

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, looking at him with concern in her eyes. 

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” he waved dismissively. Y/N felt a pang of guilt. He’d been bugging her to spend more time together, planning outings and dates that she never seemed to find time for. 

“Well, I finally have the day free. Why don’t we go out, watch a movie or have a picnic? It’ll be fun,” she suggested, draping a hand over his shoulder while her chin rested on the other, her elbow propped up on the countertop to keep an eye level with him. 

“I can’t, I’m sorry, babe. I promised to meet up with Thor,” he moved away from her touch, standing up. Y/N looked at him confusedly, “Okay, how about after?”

“Gotta go over some accounts with Sam, sorry love. I’ll be back before dinner,” He gave her a quick kiss to the cheek before heading out. Y/N stared after him, brows knitted, before shrugging. She’ll just get her errands around the house done then. 

After pounding the punching bag in Thor’s gym incessantly, Bucky found himself aimlessly walking around the streets, he just needed to clear his head. The little boy’s face was still etched in his mind as he opened the door to a bar. A little too early, he knew but he couldn’t shake off the nagging thought plaguing his mind. 

How could he have let that monster roam free while he had lived his life without even a glance back? 

_______________________________________________________________________

Years ago.

Bucky held Becca’s hand as they ascended the rickety steps of their new home. They had just lost their parents and were now moving into an unfamiliar house. The case worker had told them they were lucky not to be separated and that they shouldn’t worry; they were getting a good foster father who would take care of them from now on. 

“I had interviewed him myself, you see,” She told the children, beaming with pride. 

“I couldn’t have found a better one for you guys, why, this area is still very close to where you grew up in. You could still visit your old haunts,” She ruffled Becca’s hair, trying to lighten the mood while the little girl just moved farther away, hiding behind her big brother. The worn-out door which at once might have been painted pristine white but now had chippings hanging off of it suddenly opened with a creak, a man with a charming and easy nature stepped out with a warm smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“You guys are here! Welcome, welcome, please come in!” He gestured humbly to his house. Becca squeezed Bucky’s hand tighter which he squeezed back in return, reassuring her. There was something about this man that wasn’t quite right. He seemed relaxed and easy-going, a smile continuously plastered on his face but there was a lethality to him that the children couldn’t seem to shake off, almost as if it was buried deep inside waiting to be unleashed. The case worker hung on his every word, giggling as they talked. She slapped his arm with the horrible looking tattoo that gave Becca a fright. The children barely moved from the sofa they were seated at after the introductions. 

“It’s usually like this. Don’t worry. They start to open up after a while,” the case worker sympathized with Brock, the man who introduced himself as their new foster father; he would treat them as his own, he had promised. 

“It’s alright. I understand. After my wife, I’ve been all alone and this, this is a blessing to me,” He told her as he turned to the children. Her hand strayed to his arm again and lingered there. 

“Oh, Brock, you are a good man. They’re great children, they won’t give you trouble.” She replied, patting his arm for reassurance. It didn’t miss Bucky how she hung off his every word. 

“But I should get going, I will check up on you in a week. Children, be good. You have my number if you need anything,” She stood up, smoothing the wrinkles on her blazer.

“Wait, you’re leaving us already?” Bucky couldn’t help the whine that escaped his voice. He didn’t miss the darkness that spilled over Brock’s face for a split second before he carefully put his smile back on again. 

“I’ll be back in a week, Bucky. Don’t you worry,” the case worker smiled before she walked out the door leaving him and Becca to a stranger. 

When she was out of sight, Brock had suddenly changed his demeanor. The smile on his face had turned into a scowl when he faced them. “Alright, listen up both of you,”  he boomed, his voice cruel. “Grab your things and get on to your rooms. I don’t want to hear any noise. No running around, and if I see you making a mess. You bet your little asses, you’ll pay for it,” He stood up and left them to their bags. 

“But Mr. Brock, I’m thirsty,” Becca piped up, looking up at him timidly. The man’s grating laugh rumbled as he threw his head back, shaking it.  

“That’s Rumlow to both of you, you hear me?  Don’t make that mistake again. Now, come here,” He said, beckoning both the children to come over. Once they reached the kitchen, he pointed to the high cupboard. “You see that?” He asked Becca, dropping low to get to her eye level. When she just nodded her head, he continued, “That’s where the glasses and the plates are. If you want something in this house, you go get it yourself. I’m not your nanny,” He held Becca’s face in his hand roughly. His fingers wrapped around her cheeks tight as he held her by the chin. Bucky felt his fists clench at his sides, pushing Rumlow as far as he could with his eleven year old might.  

“Stop that!” He screamed. Their parents never hurt them. How dare this man think he could do this to his little sister? 

“Oh you wanna be the man of the house?” Rumlow jeered, shoving Bucky back making him fall to the floor. Becca’s sniffles grew louder as she tried to stop her crying, her shoulders shaking from her effort. As Bucky lay sprawled, Rumlow scooted down menacingly to him, 

“You dare push me when you were just whining like a little bitch a while ago, you wanna man up? Alright, I’ll allow it,” he taunted, pondering it for a moment before his sinister smile came back on. “Let’s see how long you’ll last protecting your little sister.” He gripped his face by the chin, fingers squeezing exceedingly tight on his cheeks before he pushed him off and he hit the floor. 

“I won’t be some parent to you that you could twist around your little fingers, no. I’ll make you into the best man you could be. I will teach you about order. And order only comes through pain,” He drilled into him like a soldier as he stretched his legs back up, his measured steps going to the fridge to fish out a beer. He took a long gulp before he continued, 

“And the sooner you learned that, the better,” 

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

Bucky sat alone at one of the benches by the field at his school, choosing solitude over the roar of the cafeteria after a particularly bad morning at home. Their foster father had woken up drunk and had haphazardly thrown things at them when Bucky accidentally burnt the eggs he had been cooking for his and Becca’s packed lunch for school. He picked on the peanut butter sandwich he prepared, not having the appetite to eat when he heard jeering voices from a group of boys and sounds of flesh being hit again and again with accompanying grunts of pain. He felt his feet move on instinct when he found them by the bleachers, a scrawny boy at the center of a group huddling over him, they were laughing as he tried to fight them off, not once being able to land a punch. The blood pumped in Bucky’s veins, a constant beating in his ears, as he grabbed the biggest of the bullies by the collar and harshly yanked him off the tiny, blonde boy now sprawled on the floor with his skinny arms covering his face. When one of the other kids tried to punch him, he deftly moved out of the way and delivered a swift blow to his stomach, making sure to spare his face so as not to get in trouble. That was how Rumlow did it, might as well use the same trick right? 

“What? Who wants to go next?” He threatened, loving the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the power he had with defending someone so helpless. The lanky blonde boy stood up beside him, blood dripping from his mouth as he held both his fists up, “I can do this all day,” he said, catching his breath but his stance clearly indicated he could barely stand up straight. Bucky just looked at him weirdly, not knowing whether to find him stupid or brave. The bullies stood against them, unsure. Bucky was the same age as them, only slightly bigger. Him and the blonde boy were still clearly outnumbered but Bucky’s eyes held a lethal strength in them, his body coiled with unleashed brutality, ready to fight. The bullies scrambled out of there as fast as they could, their feet tripping over them. 

“Yeah next time, pick on someone your own size!” he hollered before looking back at the blonde boy who looked younger than them but held himself with such maturity that it didn’t seem possible. He decided right then and there he was going to make him his new friend. Rumlow had always taught him about his belief of the natural order of the world, that strength and might always won the day and that order could only be achieved through pain. If you could inflict it on others, you were stronger, better. Weaker men were useless, had to be beaten up and put in their place. “That’s just the way of the world,” he had said. But Bucky was old and smart enough to see right through his facade. He was a bully, feeding off of people who couldn’t fight back. Bucky was going to be different, he wouldn’t bow down to his will. He just needed to protect his sister, spare her from the taint of Rumlow’s anger and prove that he wouldn't become the man Rumlow has been conditioning him to be. 

“You alright?” Bucky asked the boy standing beside him who was touching the bruise forming on his forehead.

“Yeah, thanks for helping me,” he replied sheepishly, ashamed he couldn’t fight for himself.

“Next time, just don’t provoke them, they aren’t worth it.” 

“But they were wrong. Bullies, I’d always stand up to them,” the blonde brushed his hair back from his forehead, determination steeling his voice. Bucky smiled, maybe he could learn a thing or two from this boy too. 

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Steve, what’s yours?”

“Bucky. Steve, you’re a little punk. You know that?” he said teasingly, laughing. 

Steve grinned back, “Jerk,” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Present

The light filtered into the room as the curtains were drawn back harshly causing Bucky to groan on his bed, flitting a pillow to cover his eyes. 

“Buck, come on. Get up,” Steve’s firm voice spoke through the fog in his mind. 

“Get out, Steve, I’m sleeping.” he replied, turning his back to the hand shaking his shoulder.

“How long are you going to do this? It’s been two weeks. Have you even talked to your family yet?” Steve’s judgmental voice rang out, hard and unforgiving. 

“She doesn’t even wanna see me,” he huffed, anger at himself boiling in his veins. He hasn’t seen his daughter in two weeks. Y/N’s short, cold replies to his messages were just updates on how Lizzie was doing, anything regarding Y/N, he had no idea about. He didn’t even know what sort of excuses she made up for Lizzie, how his “work trip” kept getting extended. When the hell could they keep that charade up? He was lucky enough she was letting him talk to his daughter on the phone for a few minutes every once in a while. He sat up on the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he reached for the bottle of whiskey at the bedside table. These days he could only fall asleep when he’s had one too many to drink and even then, he’d still wake up with a headache that could only be dulled by alcohol. He barely even made it to work everyday. Sam had been good enough to cover for him, staying on neutral ground with everything that’s happening to his marriage although his eyes said otherwise, disappointment etched in them. All the while Steve had ignored him the entire time since the hospital. No amount of apologies moved him from his stance except today, when he suddenly barged into the hotel room Bucky has been renting like he owned the place. 

“Jesus, Bucky, stop that!” He swiped the bottle Bucky held between his lips, splashing amber liquid on his shirt and bed. 

“Damn it, Steve! Look what you did!  Give that back,” Bucky held his arm out, his reflexes slow as he tried to grab it from his friend. 

“Jesus Christ. You smell terrible. How much have you had to drink last night?” Steve fanned the air around him trying to rid the stench of alcohol and sweat.

“How the hell did you even get in here?” Bucky’s pissed off voice grumbled but one look at Steve’s intense stare with his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, standing straight as a drill sergeant, arms crossed at his chest with his muscles bulging out of his fitted gray Under Armour shirt; he knew. The punk had intimidated his way in. No doubt leaving a poor breathless, flustered receptionist in his wake. 

“You could get that receptionist fired, you know?” He tried appealing to his best friend’s better nature.

“You wouldn’t tell. Plus, it isn’t as if she didn’t get a hefty tip. Go take a shower, Buck, you stink.” Steve didn’t budge, staring him down with a disgusted look on his face. Bucky just scoffed, 

“And then what? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Y/N kicked me out, man. Just go home, you’re wasting your time.” 

Steve’s hardened face softened as he looked at his friend. His eyes were puffy, his skin pale as he scratched his wildly unkempt beard, his greasy hair sticking out on one side. What the hell had happened to Bucky? How had it gone so bad for his friend in a matter of days? He suddenly moved out of instinct, collecting clothes strewn everywhere and packed them into the suitcase at the corner of the room. 

“Steve, what the hell are you doing?” Bucky exhaled loudly. It was too early for this. Where the hell was his drink? 

“Get your ass moving, Bucky. You’re staying at my place,”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #steve rogers #betrayal #marvel fic #marvel x you

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: All Eyes On You {One-Shot}***

Lewis Tan x Reader

Warning: Cursing, NSFW AT ALL, SMUTTT, DO NOT READ AT WORK!!

Words: 4.1k

Summary: Hmmmm, Naaaaah!  🙃

Note: You all have Brandie, @night-of-the-living-shred​ to thank for this oh and Lewis’ thirst trappin’ ass.

 ***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Mildly Interactive***

 You couldn’t believe it had been three months. Three freaking months since you’d physically been able to touch him. Three months since you’d felt his fingertips graze your skin. Three months since you’d felt his lips on yours. Three months since you’d tasted the delicate mix of sea salt, vanilla, and spice, that was his skin. Three months since you’d felt his arms around you as you came awake every morning. Three months since you’d smelled him. Three months too long.

You loved that he had a career he enjoyed and took pride in. Loved that this career was finally beginning to show him the same love and attention he’d shown it for years, but that also meant you spent a lot more time without him in your bed and a lot more time being your own company and best friend, outside of the company and friends you had. It was often lonely, but you’d been together for almost two years now and had developed a working regiment that combated the loneliness.

 Staring at the message exchange between you and Lewis had your belly filling with butterflies all over again.

 MSG My Heart: Guess who’s coming home a whole week early?

MSG: Don’t play with me, Lewis.

MSG My Heart: I don’t play about coming home to my queen.

MSG: Oh my god. Really? Babe? When? Oh my god.

MSG My Heart: LOL. I love that you’re so excited.

MSG: You’re kidding. Do you know how long it’s been?

MSG My Heart: Three months, fourteen days, ten hours, eighteen minutes, and thirty seconds. I know just how long it’s been.

MSG: Melt my heart.

MSG My Heart: That’s not all I plan on melting.

 The row of emojis was what sent you to the grave. You were practically still quivering from anticipation, and this was yesterday.

 “All finished.”

 You sat up and thanked Lucy, your wax lady who’d just made you a completely smooth again. When Lewis was away, you kept things tidy, but there was no need to get all extravagant. Today, you went all out, and that included a little surprise below the belt.

 “Thank you, Lucy. Same card on file, please.”

 “You got the full special. Does this mean boyfriend is back in town?”

 You giggled. It was a shame she knew the drill. As she ran your credit card, you endured her teasing and salacious suggestions on how to properly welcome Lewis home so he wouldn’t dare think of leaving again. By the time you walked out of the salon, your face was red hot from embarrassment. As you got into your car, you ran down the to-do list you’d made at five this morning.

 Hair, Eyebrow Threading, nails, feet, wax, shop.

 Somehow you’d managed to get through all of the list, except the shopping part, and it wasn’t even three in the afternoon. Lewis’s flight didn’t come in until five. The plan was for him to come home, and the two of you would go to dinner, but you planned on surprising him at the airport. You were that anxious to see him.

 As you were in the midst of getting ready to go to surprise him at the airport, your phone rang.

 “Hello?”

 “Guess who is officially in the same state as you?”

 “Baby?”

 “That’s right. I landed forty minutes ago.”

 Your head snapped to the clock. It wasn’t even five o’clock.

 “Baby, you said five.”

 “I know, look, I thought it would be too but looks like even time and space wanted us to be together.”

 You remembered the first time he said those words to you. They did the same thing now as they did almost two years ago—made your heart skip a beat.

 “I just wanted to give you a heads up before I walked in the door,” Lewis added. That was when you heard a car door shut.

 “Thank you, have a good one.”

 Sensing something was going on, you perked up. As you walked to the window of your bedroom, your phone chime for the Ring went off, indicating someone had tripped the sensor.

 “Lew, baby, is that--.”

 “Honey, I’m home. Come to daddy.”

 A scream escaped you before you dropped your phone and ran out of the bedroom.

 “Slow down.”

 Ignoring his warning, you barreled down the stairs and through your home. For the first time, you regretted signing the contract on this mammoth of a house. You should have stuck to your guns when Lewis said it was perfect, and you mentioned it was only going to be the two of you in a house meant for six people. His rebuttal—then we’ll fill it up with some kids. Once he said that you happily signed the contract right beside his name.

After way too long, you found him in the foyer at the front door, and that was when you picked up speed.

 “Baby!”

Lewis opened his arms and waited for you to leap into them. Once you did, you wrapped your legs around his back and crashed your lips to his. It had been three months since you’d been kissed, and it was long overdue. Eagerly you dipped your tongue into his mouth, hoping to show him just how excited you were to see him. Lewis moaned then turned your body to press you onto the dark wooden door.

 “I missed you so much,” you panted out in between kisses.

 “I missed you more.”

 Feeling as if there were too many barriers between you, you began peeling them off one by one. His jacket dropped to the floor within seconds. Then came his polo that you peeled off of him. with him bare chest, you allowed your fingers to reacquaint with his skin. Lewis must have felt the same way because the tee-shirt you wore, his tee-shirt was gone a few seconds after your nails scraped his back. Realizing you didn’t have on a bra, his eyes feasted on your flesh.

 “Welcome home to me, indeed.”

 You snorted and shook your head before wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him some more. Lewis carried you through your home until he’d laid you onto the extra-large sectional couch. On lazy days this was where the two of you always ended up just cuddling, watching TV, or just chatting. Lewis pressed kiss after kiss onto your neck, collar, and chest before he rested his head in between your breasts and moaned.

 “Mmmm, I missed your skin,” he muttered.

 You lazily played with his midnight locks taking your time to graze his scalp with your nail tips.

 “I missed your smell,” you replied, inhaling deeply, allowing the scent that was all him to envelope you.

 Lewis turned his head and kissed your sternum before trailing down your belly. When he kissed your pelvis over your leggings, he moaned.

 “I canceled that dinner.”

 “What?”

“I know it was supposed to be a surprise, but when my mom texted me to confirm she kind of let it slip,” he admitted.

 You snorted, then laughed. It echoed through the first floor of your home.

 “Okay, so dinner is canceled. What’s planned in its place?”

 “Nothing.”

 “What do you mean nothing? Baby, I’m sure everyone who was supposed to come to this dinner tonight wanted to see you. It has been months,” you stressed.

 “Oh, I know it’s been months. That is why I canceled with my mom’s blessing. She even had a message for you.”

 You piqued up, straining your neck so you could gaze down at him. Making eye contact without angling his head up, Lewis smirked but didn’t speak.

 “What message?”

 “She’s not getting any younger and would like to be able to do Tik Tok dances with her grandchild without worry about her knees.”

 Your jaw dropped to which Lewis busted out laughing.

 “Wait, wait. What!?”

 “You heard me.” He kissed your belly again and dipped his tongue into your belly button. Moaning softly, you bit into your bottom lip.

 “So you’re saying your mother not so specifically but specifically is suggesting that--.”

 “—I put a baby in you? Yeah,” Lewis filled in.

 Your jaw was again ajar from your state of shock.

 “Wow.”

 You’d always known his mother wanted grandkids, but it was always one of those once a year at family dinners passing comment. She’d graduated now. Before you knew it, Lewis had lifted you into his arms again and was now carrying you through the halls, up the stairs.

 “You’re walking away from the door. What exactly are we supposed to do with the rest of the day?”

 “I think I have plenty of ideas,” Lewis answered as he carried you into your bedroom.

 From walking into the bedroom, he walked on into the bathroom. Once inside, Lewis plopped you onto the sink. As soon as you were seated, he began pulling off your leggings.

 “What’s happening right now?”

 “I’m getting you naked. I want to wash off the airplane and travel off of me before I smother myself with you, and you’re going to help me.”

 “Oh, am I?” Lewis then yanked off your pants and dropped them onto the floor, leaving you in your high waisted bikini-style thong. Lewis lowly growled as he peeped peeks of your ass in the mirror behind you.

 “You were ready for me to come home, you know how much I love these,” he grunted out, snapping the elastic against your skin, leaving a subtle stinging sensation that slowly dulled. Though it dulled, it awoke and intensified another sensation—arousal.

 He pulled back and began working on his jeans. Once he dropped them and pulled his boxer-briefs off, your teeth once again sank into your bottom lip. Your eyes traveled along his body, taking in the sleek muscles that decorated his torso down to his well defined oblique muscles that slanted inward, tempting you with that under bellybutton tattoo. He was even more ripped than he was three months ago. He was also a lot more bruised and scraped up.

 “Jeez, what have they done to you?”

 Glancing over his body, Lewis shrugged nonchalantly. “Eh, occupational hazard.”

 You hopped off the sink and closed the space between you trailing your hand from his hip, over his ribs, and up to his chest. Once you reached his jaw, you gently cupped it.

 “Let’s get you cleaned so I can take care of you.”

 Walking behind him, you led the way to the shower, turned on the water, and allowed the moisture to rain over you. It was hard not to smirk when you heard Lewis’s guttural groan. As soon as he let it out to bounce off the tiled walls, his arms were wrapping around you, pulling you into him.

 Lewis’s lips latched onto your neck and sucked. The force of that suck had you remembering everything that mouth had ever done to you. As if he remembered as well, his grip tightened as his hand roamed to your backside to cup it. It felt like he moved his hands everywhere all at once as if he couldn’t be happy with one location.

 “It’s been so long, baby. I need you so much,” Lewis whispered in your ear, sending a violent shiver through you that awakened so much in you that you nearly overpowered him and took control. Almost.

 Before you could, Lewis pressed you to the wall, stretching your hands out along the tile. His mouth moved from your neck to your lips to suck the air right from your lungs. The man was meant for kissing. Once he was sure you wouldn’t be able to function, you felt his knee nudge your legs apart. Within seconds you felt his hand cup your sex, making you loudly gasp.

 “Do you need me as much as I need you?” Knowing you had no words to express how much you needed him, you nodded.

 “Words, babygirl.”

 You already saw what mood he was setting. Gathering your composure, you pushed off the wall and walked over to your bath products then lathered your bath gloves. Turning back to Lewis, you gently rubbed along his body taking care not to hurt him anywhere accidentally. As your gloved hands slowly traveled across his skin, your eyes followed where they went. The white lather of the soap was a nice contrast with his tanned and tattooed skin.

 Once you made it to his back, you relished the feel of his muscles dancing underneath your fingers, showing you again just how hard he pushed his body. Seductively you swirled your finger down his spine until you made it to the top of his taunt ass. There was nothing but trust from him as your hand rubbed his derriere, a trust you’d mirrored every day since nearly the day you’d met.

 After several long minutes of cleaning and teasing every inch of him, Lewis again pushed you against the shower wall. This time your abdomen and face rested against its cool surface while he pressed his body against your back and ass. Instead of speaking, Lewis kissed your jaw, brought his mouth to your ear, and bit down as he pulled the shower glove off of your hand. He knew damn well it wouldn’t fit his much larger one.

 It didn’t matter if they fit perfectly to him; a few moments later, you felt his gloved hand rub against your backside.

 Up—down—up—down.

 Lewis released a deep groan right beside your ear. Bringing his hand up your back, he gently rubbed your skin, applying enough pressure and force to clean but not enough to give you any sort of pleasure. He was an expert tease. Once his hand made it to your shoulder, he massaged it, applying more pressure dragging a satisfying moan from your lips.

 “You’re tense, love.”

 “I wonder why,” you whispered.

 Quickly, Lewis had you flipped around staring into your eyes. As he distracted you with his golden chestnut orbs, pulling you even more under his spell, his hand wreaked havoc on your breast. He rubbed, circled, pinched, and repeated the process. Bringing his ungloved hand to join in on the pleasure, he cupped and massaged them until he brought both hands to your throat to gently but forcefully hold you there.

 His lips crashed to yours soon after. His tongue was a work of art and spelled by a sorcerer and was proving to you just how well he knew how to use it. Your moans matched his, but when you felt his gloved hand against your folds, your moans increased.

 “Oh, baby.”

 “I can feel that tension increasing,” Lewis taunted as he turned you, placing you under one of the two overhead shower fixtures.

 Once the soap from your bodies was washed away, Lewis was carrying you once again into the bedroom. With you rested across it with your legs spread, Lewis’s head and mouth licked, nibbled, and sucked a path down your body until you felt his tongue flick across your needy bud. With the arch of your back, you gasped again.

 “Fuck, baby!”

 “Mmm.”

 In seconds his mouth was fastened over your sex, feasting as if his last meal was right between your thighs. There was an urgency to how his tongue flicked your clit and then delved between your folds only to nibble against your labia. After a few short minutes, you were a whimpering, writhing mess. Needing something to touch, your hands raked along his head. Every time you tried to snap your thighs together, he used his strength on you prying them apart and holding them to the bed so he could do as he wished.

 “Fuck Lewis, yes!”

 His moans were the only reply he gave. Just as you felt yourself nearing the threshold of absolute ecstasy, he pulled away and stood at the foot of the bed. As if he had a tether from him to you, your body yanked to a half-sitting position.

 “What!? What’s wrong? What’re you doing?”

 Lewis didn’t answer. He just stood there licking his lips before he used his thumb to swipe at the corner of his mouth. The look in his eyes told you he had no intention of coming back to finish the job.

“Lew---,” you cautiously began watching him. He couldn’t tell you that he no longer wanted you; the uterus destroying lightsaber that Kylo Ren wished he possessed said otherwise. Biting your bottom lip, you moaned.

 “Come here, baby, let me help.”

 Lewis walked away to the leather armchair that was in the nearest corner to the bed. He then pulled it across the room to place it at the foot of the bed. By that time, you thought he meant for you to straddle him on it. So when Lewis sat, you began to move.

 “Stop!”

 Pausing, you gave him a questioning look.

 “How long have I been gone?”

 Crinkling your brow, you sighed. “Months.”

 “How many?”

 “Lewis--,” you began.

 “—Y/N. be a good girl and answer me.”

 Like a brat, you kissed your teeth and sighed out exaggeratedly. “Three months.”

 “Have you touched yourself since I’ve been gone?”

 Your eyes bugged. He knew the answer to that. Lewis’s eyes flicked to the right bedside table, where he knew you had your toys.

 “Lewis, I don’t want to play this game,” you whined.

 “Are you sure? Your nipples are telling a different story.”

 Narrowing your eyes, you ended on an eye-roll. “Yes.”

 With your answer, Lewis stroked his cock, bringing your attention to the massive erection just standing tall as if it knew there was none like it. Lewis groaned and sucked in a breath.

 “Though I’ve tried not to, I’ve done this several times. I’ve lost track of how many.”

 You could hear his voice speaking, but you were too focused on his actions to really allow any words to resonate. Watching his large, veiny hand stroke his need had your mouth watering. It was so damn sexy. The sighed, coupled with his moans, was enough to make fresh wetness pool between your legs.

 When his hand stopped, you followed it to rest on the arm of the chair. A few seconds passed before you realized he wasn’t going to bring it back to continue. Locking eyes with him, you recognized the look.

 “Show me how you’ve done it.”

 You could have choked from the shock. You knew he wasn’t joking, and you knew better than to toy with him when he got like this. Bringing your hand down your body, you cupped your own sex and groaned. It was insane how wet you were.

 “Show me,” Lewis said in his impossibly deep voice. It had been months since you’d heard it this clearly. Facetime sex was great, and all, but there was nothing like his voice in person.

 Using your two fingers, you spread yourself so he could see. Lewis’s grunt was loud, and the jerk of his member was a substantial one. As if in a trance, your fingers found your opening and swirled around, coating themselves before circling your clit. The second you began, you had to steady yourself. You knew you wouldn’t last long with him sitting there, but you wanted to give him a good show. Your fingers sped despite your best efforts to slow them. Once your back arched, you had to pull your hand away. The action had your back arched more as you dropped your head back.

 “Fuck!”

 “Such a beautiful pussy baby,” Lewis huskily whispered.

 Bringing your head back to resume eye contact, you took a deep breath then continued. Starting slowly, you sucked your bottom lip and focused on his eyes rather than how you were making yourself feel. Dipping two digits inside your heat, you squirmed, jutting your breasts into the air. Lewis groaned from across the room and brought his hand back to his cock. After a few strokes, he groaned and put his hand back on the arm of the chair.

 “How’s it feel, baby?”                       ��                                                              

 As you plunged your fingers in and out of your body, you spoke, “So good, but I want your hand. Your fingers. Your mouth.”

 You gasped then brought your soaking fingers to your clit, intent on one thing. Release. Your fingers moved quickly, racing you toward your release. Lewis must have sensed it too because he was now at the edge of the chair observing.

 “Come for me, Y/N!”

 “Mmm, fuck Lewis, I’m gonna—gonna--.”

 Your back arched again, and your fingers sped, and within seconds you screamed out and shook from the sheer power of your release. While you were lost in your pleasure, you didn’t hear anything else but the pounding of your heart. When you felt his cock fill you to the hilt, you screamed and came again and clenched around him. Lewis growled, pinned your thighs to the bed, and plowed into you in a way that you knew you’d feel even tomorrow.

 His strokes were not meant to tease you or reacquaint his body with yours. They were meant to please, meant to mark, meant to ruin you for any other separations. He wanted to erase months, show you how he alone could make you feel this way, and how only he could give you what you needed. When he shifted your body to hoist it a few inches off the bed to give you long, deep strokes, it was over. another orgasm claimed you, and your nails claimed his skin—marking him as yours as much as he marked you as his.

 “Fuck, you’re so tight. I’ve missed you so much.”

 With those words, Lewis pulled you up to him, so he was holding you as he was sitting back on his legs, and you were straddling him with your legs wrapped around his back. He controlled your body with ease and skill, lifting you only to drop you on his protruding heat.

  “I missed you.” Your lips crashed to his and took control of this. You nibbled his lips and sucked his tongue.

 It was such a beautiful mix of submission and dominance that the sheer intimacy of it had your belly fluttering.

 “This won’t be long, babe, I want too much,” Lewis warned.

 “Fuck me!”

 Dropping you back to the bed, Lewis held your legs like a pair of scissors and began throwing pummeling thrusts into you. You were thankful you’d chosen a home that had no neighbors for miles and in the middle of plenty of greenery. As he gave you everything he had the next few minutes, you took it all.

 Once you felt his move from thoughtful calculation to no order or rhythm, you knew it was a matter of seconds. Sure enough, you felt him release into you as he grunted and groaned loud enough to compete with your shrieks and shouts in between his utterance of how much he loved you. Lewis buried himself inside of you and pulled your final orgasm free.

 The two of you laid there for long minutes, composing yourselves while trying to catch tour breaths. When he rolled off of you onto the bed beside you, he groaned.

 “Mmm, I love you so much,” Lewis repeated.

 You rolled to his side and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around you.

 “I love you more, baby.”

 “Although I think that was the one that did it, we have all night.”

 “Did what?”

 Lewis rolled on top of you and plastered his hands on your belly. “Put a baby in here.”

 You couldn’t help but laugh.

 “Oh, so you were trying to get me pregnant?”

 His smile was wide, cheesy, and completely charming.

 “Do you have any objections? According to my calendar, you’re fertile.”

 Lewis thrust forward, joining your bodies again. Completely shocked, you gasped.

 “Lewis.”

 “Mmmm, god you feel like mine. Let me give you something else that’s mine.”

 “You’re serious?”

 You’d talked about starting a family together before, but you’d never made a decision. It was still something sweet to think about. Lewis stroked forward, then retreated and did it again and again.

 “I am, but I want you to be my wife first.”

 Your heart stopped.

 “Are you breathing?”

 As if for emphasis, he rotated his hips, making you feel his depth and breadth completely. Clenching around him, you shivered.

 “Mrs. Tan has a nice ring to it, as does wife, mother of my children.” With every word he spoke, he circled some more.

 “Love of my life,” he finished before he picked up his pace making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

 You knew that there would be no rest for the wicked, and it was evident Lewis was in a wicked mood.

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

Tag List:

@munteanhorewrites @night-of-the-living-shred @caramara3 @chaneajoyyy @dangerouslovefanfic @sonjashuterbugjohnson @i-just-like-fanfics @areubeingserved @areubeingserved-too​

#all eyes on you one shot #Lewis Tan #lewis tan fanfiction #lewis tan one shot #lewis tan x reader #lewis tan x you #lewis tan x black reader #lewis tan smut #black fanfiction

[drabbles-mc]

Closing Time

Obispo “Bishop” Losa x Reader

Warnings: language, violence, unwanted physical contact

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Thank you so much to @masterlistforimagines​ for trusting me with this prompt. I hope I gave you what you were looking for! Love some worked up, protective Bish ❤

Things were finally starting to calm down a little bit. The final rush of people had come and gone for the most part—there were just a couple stragglers, a few couples, and a small group of men left in the café. You had a little more than an hour before you had to close, so you couldn’t quite try prompting people to leave yet. Technically even if it was trickling past closing time you couldn’t really do anything, which was frustrating.

You and the other barista on shift with you were keeping yourselves busy. The more you cleaned up and put away now, the quicker you could take off once everyone left. Both of you thought that it wasn’t quite fair that your manager got to leave you there alone for the last chunk of the day, but there wasn’t much you could do besides roll your eyes as they left.

Your mind flashed back to the conversation you had had with Bishop a couple weeks ago when you had told him about how your manager had started leaving two staff on their own for the last part of the day. He had scoffed and shook his head.

“They shouldn’t be able to do that, Querida.”

You shrugged, knowing he was right but also knowing that you couldn’t do anything to change it, “I know. I just don’t get how they can be there all day and then they decide the last two hours is too much?”

“What if something happens? What if you need them and they aren’t there?”

You hate that shrugging is the only response that you can think of, “I guess we have to call them back? Or the cops? Depends on the situation. I have no idea.”

“Call me before you call the cops,” his tone was serious.

You smiled, shaking your head, “Gonna roll up with the guys if someone is trying to rob us?”

“I won’t even need the guys,” he waited for you to meet his eyes, “I’m serious. Anything happens that doesn’t sit right with you, call me. I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

“Yes sir,” you kissed him lightly on the lips to get the serious expression on his face to go away. It worked—you were rewarded with a smile as he pulled you closer to him.

You were snapped back to the present when you heard someone trying to get your attention so they could pay their check and leave. You cashed them out as quickly as you could without making it seem like you were trying to rush them out. You flashed them a smile and a wave as they left, immediately going to clean off their table so it would be one less thing to do later.

You felt someone staring at you. As you glanced around, you saw one of the men at the table of three was watching you intently, a smile on his face. You averted your eyes quickly, not wanting to feed into whatever he was playing at. You hoped if you ignored it enough, he’d get the hint and they would just leave without giving the two of you any trouble.

The other barista came walking out of the back room, a worried look on her face, “Hey, Y/N, can I ask you for a huge favor?”

“What’s up?”

“I just got off the phone with my mom. My brother got into some kind of shit, and I need to go pick him up from the station,” she sighed, “Would you be alright closing up? There’s only like forty minutes until we close anyway.”

“By myself?” your stomach was already in knots and that was when you had someone there with you, “If it’s only forty minutes can’t you just wait to go get him? He’s at the station he’s not going anywhere.”

“My mom sounded really freaked out.”

You made sure your voice was hushed, “I’m freaked out. I don’t wanna be alone with all these people. Not when they know I’m alone.”

“Almost everyone is gone. There’s only like five people left.”

You looked around and saw that she was right. There was one couple left and the table of three men.

“Please,” she snapped you out of your thoughts, “I’ll owe you big-time.”

You sighed, knowing you weren’t really going to be able to talk her out of leaving, “Yea, you will.”

She hugged you and said a quick goodbye before going and grabbing her purse and heading out the door. You sighed as it shut behind her, not looking forward to the rest of your time alone in the café. You stayed behind the counter, wanting to keep constant surveillance on everything that was happening around you. You didn’t like to think of yourself as a paranoid person, but this situation was playing out in a million different terrible ways in your mind.

You instinctively reached to your pocket to grab your phone. You wanted to call Bishop so badly, but nothing had even really happened, so you didn’t want to call him for what might turn out to be a perfectly easy closing shift. You took a deep breath to try and calm your nerves.

The last couple came up to you to pay their check. You smiled and thanked them as they tucked a few bills into the tip jar on the counter. With grins and “We’ll be back soon’s” they were out the door, leaving you alone with the three men who seemed to have no intention of getting up and leaving any time soon. Your hands were fidgeting and you tried to hide it behind the counter so they wouldn’t be able to see how nervous you were.

Normally you didn’t try to force people out, but it was twenty minutes away from closing time and it wasn’t like any of the men at the table had any intention of ordering more food or drinks. And, even if they wanted to, everything was shut down for the night. You had tried to make a not-so-subtle show of yourself shutting everything off to try and prompt other customers to leave. Most of them took the hint, but not these guys.

You took another deep breath as you got yourself psyched up enough to approach their table. It was in that moment that you regretted not letting Bishop teach you some very simple, but very effective, take-down and self-defense techniques. You made a mental note to take him up on that immediately when this was all over with.

You approached their table, clearing your throat, “Are you gentlemen paying together or separately?” you wanted to give them two options that both resulted in them paying up and leaving.

The man who had been staring at you earlier smiled at you, “Kicking us out already, sweetheart?”

The word sweetheart made your skin crawl. You tried your hardest to seem unfazed, “I didn’t say anything about kicking you out. I just asked how you gentlemen are planning to pay this evening, that’s all.”

“We aren’t ready yet,” another one of the men spoke up, his tone not coated in false kindness like the previous man’s had been.

You nodded, “I’ll give you a couple more minutes to decide, then.”

As you went to talk back behind the counter, the first man grabbed your forearm. It wasn’t hard, he wasn’t doing it to cause physical pain, but the touch of his hand felt like it was burning your skin. You yanked your arm quickly out of his grip, covering where his hand had been with your own like you were soothing a burn.

“Could you be a doll and get me a glass of water?” his smile made you want to punch his teeth in.

“Sure,” your jaw was clenched but you were trying to hide the trembling in your hands. You walked back behind the counter, grabbing a plastic cup and filling it with water and ice. You tried to take a deep breath so you could carry it back to the table without the men seeing that your hands were shaking. You couldn’t give them that kind of satisfaction.

You set the cup of water down without comment. When you turned to walk away, you felt the man’s hand graze along the small of your back, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Your bottom lip began to tremble as you stepped just into the back room. You could still see them but they couldn’t really see you. You took your phone out and immediately dialed Bishop.

He answered on the second ring, his voice as calm as ever, “Mi vida, done with work?”

“Um, I,” your voice was shaking and you couldn’t even force a sentence out.

“What’s wrong?” his tone shifted immediately shifted.

“You, you said…you said to call,” it was hard to organize your thoughts as you peered through the window at the table of men, “if something didn’t feel right. There’s these guys here and they won’t leave and I ju—”

He didn’t let you finish your thought, “I’m on my way. Be there in less than ten minutes, Y/N. Be safe.”

You let out a shaky sigh as you hung up and put the phone in your pocket. Bishop didn’t live very far from where you worked—that was how you two had ended up meeting in the first place. If he was riding fast, which you knew he would be, he could easily cut the time in half that it would take to get there. You prayed he would show up before anything else happened.

You entered back into the main expanse of the café, but stayed behind the counter. You wanted as much space as possible between you and those creeps. You looked at them out of the corner of your eye, afraid that direct eye contact would invite conversation, or worse, make them approach you.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of Bishop’s bike as he rolled into the lot. You let out a breath that you had been holding for what felt like an eternity. Knowing that he was going to be walking inside in a moment, and that it was officially past closing time, you walked up to the table again to ask them to pay their checks.

“Together or separate, gentlemen?” you hated that you still felt pressured to be polite.

The same man reached out and touched your hand again, “Together sounds good to me,” he looked at the two men sitting with him, “Sound good to you boys?”

You were trying not to think about the tears that were stinging at the edges of your eyes as you pulled your hand back. You inhaled slowly through your nose, feeling a sob building up in your throat when you heard the chimes on the door as Bishop walked in, still wearing his kutte.

“It’s past closing time, buddy,” the man who had been silent up until that point spoke up.

Bishop’s face was expressionless and his tone was frigid, “I’m here by request.”

You felt like your feet were glued to the ground as you felt the three men staring at you, and Bishop staring at them. “Querida,” his eyes were still locked on the table of men but you could hear the small shift in his tone as he addressed you, “Come over here, please.”

The man who had been touching you all night scoffed, “Leave the lady alone. No one is getting hurt here. Why don’t you run along with your glorified bicycle, huh?”

Bishop was a lot of things, but insecure wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t one that was easily baited into doing volatile or stupid things. The man’s comment didn’t rile him up, but you knew that if you weren’t able to make yourself move within the next five seconds things were going to get ugly very quickly. But you were frozen.

Your eyes darted back and forth between all four men. Bishop could see it on your face that as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t force yourself to move. He stepped forward and went to wedge himself between you and the table of men. The man stood up and went to grab your arm again but Bishop quickly grabbed his arm, spun him around, and pinned him face-down onto the table. Bishop didn’t push you out of the way, but the commotion was enough to get you to force yourself to take a few steps back.

“Don’t even fucking think about it,” he wasn’t yelling, but he didn’t have to.

The other two men stood up immediately, ready to fight. The fact that none of them reached for weapons made both you and Bishop assume that they weren’t carrying any. For a moment you forgot that not every single person carried at least one firearm on themselves at all times—the club gave you a skewed view of things like that.

“Why don’t you just pay your check and get out,” Bishop was still pinning the one man down on the table, the and that wasn’t holding his arm was gripping the back of the man’s neck.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” the man spat out against the table.

Bishop pushed his face down harder, “Keep your fucking hands off of women.”

“What’s your problem?” his voice was muffled from the force Bishop was applying to keep him pinned against the table.

Bishop kept his grip as he lifted the man off the table and shoved him towards the other two towards the door. “Get out.”

One of the other men stepped forward, “At least let us pay the lady,” there was an evil smile on his face.

“Don’t come any closer,” Bishop was fully blocking your body with his, “if you all want to leave here with your hands fully intact.”

He stepped forward again, closing the gap between he and Bishop. You knew this wasn’t going to be pretty. The man cocked his arm back for an obvious right hook that Bishop was able to dodge. He countered but instead of punching, he shoved his hand into the man’s throat, hard, causing him to gasp and sputter as he tumbled backwards. While he was coughing, that’s when Bishop landed a punch clean to the man’s jaw. They should’ve been counting their lucky stars that Bishop didn’t wear rings on every finger like some of the other guys in the club. It still hurt, but it wouldn’t slice their faces up nearly as bad.

“If you aren’t gonna pay or apologize, then get the fuck out,” he stood there, watching the man he had just punched retreat slightly.

The only one left who hadn’t been accosted by Bishop in some way stepped forward. You were thankful that they weren’t smart enough to try and team up on him all at once. You wondered why they wouldn’t just leave but you knew that at this point it was no longer about you, it was purely about their egos.

“Just go home,” Bishop sounded over it.

“After you, old man.”

Bishop didn’t even wait for the man to advance. It happened so fast that you didn’t register exactly how it went down, but it somehow ended with Bishop pinning one of the man’s hands to the table as he took his gun out. Everyone’s eyes, including yours, went wide at the sight of Bishop’s gun. You wanted to believe he wasn’t going to fire it off where you worked but you couldn’t be certain. You felt like you were stuck watching everything happening around you.

“Bish…” your voice was soft.

Before you could say anything else, he brought the butt of his gun down hard on the man’s hand. There was a loud cracking sound and the man let out a yell. Bishop shoved him towards the door as he tucked the gun away again.

“I told you to leave if you wanted your fucking hands. Now get out.”

The three of them scampered out the door to lick their wounds somewhere far away. You were stuck in place, your whole body trembling. You hadn’t expected it to go that way. You hoped that he could just show up and his presence would be enough to get them to leave. You felt sorry for dragging him into such a mess.

“Did they hurt you?” his voice was soft—he sounded like a completely different Bishop than who he had just been not even a minute before.

You shook your head, needing a moment to force words out, “No. I, I’m so sorry, Obispo. I dragged you into this I didn’t mean—”

He wrapped you in a hug, pulling you tight up against his chest, “Don’t apologize. You never should’ve been here alone. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”

You finally let the tears fall from your eyes after holding them in all night. There were a million emotions coursing through your body and you trembled as Bishop held you, gently running his fingers through your hair.

“You’re safe,” his voice was just above a whisper.

Your body had finally stopped shaking. You spoke up, your voice soft, “I love you.”

He kissed the top of you head, “I love you too,” he pulled back so he could look into your eyes, “Want to ride home with me?”

You nodded, “Please. As long as you don’t mind bringing me to work tomorrow?”

He shook his head, “Not at all. I’m gonna be here first thing in the morning,” he looped his arm around your shoulder and walked towards the door with you. He waited as you shut off the last of the lights and locked the doors, “Gonna talk to your fucking manager, too.”

You smiled for the first time all night, “Oh are you?”

“Yea. I’ll break their hands too if I have to.”

You laughed despite the tension that was still trying to leave your body, “I love you so much.”

“Mmm,” he pulled you close and kissed your temple as you made your way towards his bike, “I love you too.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa #bishop x reader #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #bishop losa fanfiction #fanfiction #my writing #drabblesmc #request

[fivehargreevesforthewin]

Falling Walls

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader 

Total Word Count: 1,292

Warnings: Swearing, probably a bit OOC, fluff, minor angst, tua spoilers (probably season 1 and 2)

A/N: We’re back at it again! If you saw some of my posts before, I was posting little snippets of a writing piece. This is it!

~~~

Five Hargreeves had never been one to have an open heart. He kept it locked, secured behind miles and miles of walls. Sterling silver, the best the Umbrella Academy could get, locked each layer, securing the feelings he had long repressed away. Walls he had built for a reason, making sure no one from the Commission could ever get to him and break him. It was a way of keeping himself safe, making sure that after forty-five years alone, no one would break him like the loss of his family did. Then, he met you.

You, like him, could weave your way through time without a briefcase. Instead of being able to spacial jump though, you glitched in and out of time and places with precision. With Five, you joined the Commission, easily adapting to the circumstances and becoming top of the field with him. And Five, well he never forgot that. 

When he looked at you, he felt some of his ever so guarded heart open to you without you even doing anything. Your smile, one that was almost always adorning your face, would almost bring him to his knees. Your laugh, which normally was caused by him (something he took major pride in) would make his heart beat faster, face flaring up with heat as a blush adorned his normally stoic face. 

You, you couldn’t even say you didn’t fall for the ocean eyed boy. He was something you secretly enjoyed. A secret that no one but you could ever know. Five Hargreeves set your heart on fire, every part of him entrancing you. His skill was unmatched, even you knew that and you admired it to where his being was almost all you knew. His sarcasm was something you learned to love, eventually biting him back with your own remarks. You two were flawless together, and unfortunately, The Handler knew it too. 

She made it her personal mission to keep you two separated, no matter how well you two worked together. What she wanted was not for Five to get involved with you, a girl who didn’t have a leading role in the story. So, she did what every antagonist does, and disposed of the side character who supposedly had nothing to do with the story. 

News quickly spread of your disappearance in the Commission, The Handler giving a false speak of care and adoration for you. Five, in all his boarded up, stone heart glory, once again shut the rest of the world out of his life. Easily becoming the stone-cold assassin he was before you glitched your way into his arms during a mission. 

Without you, he felt hollow. No- he didn’t feel anything. He was empty. Alone. Five retreated back to how he was when he started that forty-five-year hell with nothing but a mannequin to keep him company. For once in his life, he had found someone who he could tolerate, who could match him and gave him everything he wanted and now they were gone. You were gone. And Five had no idea that it was his own boss who had taken you away from him. 

Eight months later

It had been eight months without you. Eight painful, dull, and dreadfully bland months of his life. Currently, he was in Dallas, Texas, 1963. His assignment was to kill President JFK but that wasn’t his plan in actuality. Since you weren’t there, since he had no real reason to care about staying he planned to go back to 2019 and help his siblings stop the apocalypse. Five’s biggest regret was that he didn’t have you with him. 

So, when the moment came, Five opened what would take him home. His ocean blue eyes, ones that had been cold and uncaring since you left, scanned over his siblings. Number Four, commonly known as Klaus came out of the house and chucked a fire extinguisher at Five, him narrowly dodging the object. 

He let out a sigh and looked around one last time, his heart heavy with mourning over someone he didn’t even know was dead or not. Nevertheless, Five looked at the portal and threw himself in, missing the familiar purple, blue, and red boxes that were signs of you.

You had narrowly escaped The Handler, glitching your way out before she could stop you. You stabilized, landing with shaky legs and tattered clothing only to be sucked into a blue light. 

Both you and Five landed with a grunt on the ground, yours being more of a groan due to your condition. “Fuck.” You seethed, hand clutching your still bleeding abdomen in pain. 

Klaus, Luther, Allison, and Diego all looked down at you in question, not even registering their lost brother in his thirteen-year-old body again. Five though, he noticed you right away. 

Ocean blue eyes raked your blood worn form and launched himself over. With unsteady hands, ones he never had before you, turned you over into his arms. His eyes were met with your dazzling eyes and sun-rivaling smile. “Hi Five. Long time no see hm?” You joked, hands, and body covered in your own blood.

“(Y/n),” Five mumbled, “you- you’re- holy shit you’re bleeding.” A scowl plastered itself on his face but buried underneath all of his hidden emotions was concern for you. “Who the fuck did this to you?”

You rolled your eyes, sitting up against Five’s wishes. “It was The Handler.” You said lamely, using Five to stand up on shaky legs, inspecting your thirteen-year-old body. “Why do I look thirteen again?”

“That doesn’t matter now! You’re bleeding and I haven’t seen you for eight months. You’re coming with me.” Five commands, grabbing your arm and spacial jumping inside the house, ignoring his siblings easily. 

You were forced to sit down on what you assumed was Fives bed. He scrambled around, instructing you to do things as he cleaned your wounds. After a few minutes, he finished and stood in front of you, caribbean eyes staring down at you. If you looked closely, you could see the concern dancing across his eyes. 

A heartwarming smile graced your face as you grabbed his hands lightly and cautiously. “Can I hold your hands Five?” You asked, knowing how bad he was with physical touch and affection in general. 

“Yes.” He answered breathlessly, carefully pulling you up into a hug, holding you tight but making sure to avoid what he bandaged. “I fucking missed you.” He mumbled quietly like it was a secret that only you were ever allowed to know. 

You buried your head in the crevice of Fives neck, nuzzling into it gently. “I missed you too Five.” You mumbled, feeling tears pool in your eyes. “I thought of you every day. You’re the only reason I’m still alive.” You admitted, him rubbing your back soothingly as you sobbed. 

“I’m so glad you’re still here. I couldn’t live without you and your stupid smiles and jokes.”

“You love my jokes, admit it.”

“Never.” He mumbled, kissing your head gently. “Let's lay down okay? We both need rest.”

You nodded numbly, Five picking you up and setting you in his bed. “I’m gonna be here for you. I’m never going to let you go again.” He whispered as you drifted off into his arms. Once again, you felt safe, content. It was always Five that made you feel like that, no one else ever could.

Five felt those walls, those same walls you brought down once fall again. This time crumbling to the ground ungracefully. Every part of him wanted you with him. In his arms, safe. Curellian eyes that had been watching you for minutes as Five lost himself in his thoughts slowly fluttered shut, him falling asleep next to you. 

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves writing #five x reader #tua five #tua #tua writing #tua fanfic #tua writers #the umbrella academy #umbrella acedmy #umbrella academy x you #umbrella academy x reader

[allandoflimbo]

Can you write one where one day the team is in the compound and Bucky goes to show them something on the TV and his phone is connected to it and he accidentally shows everyone a video of him touching himself and he gets embarrassed and reader starts blushing because she has a crush on him and then after that they are embarrassed because Bucky likes her too and then he kisses her or more.

Live Show

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word count: 2,515

Rating: M

“We’re all going to the living room, something about a movie night. You in?”

You quickly noted the hopeful and enthusiastic tone in your friend’s voice. Wanda was still slightly drunk from the tequila shot you had made her take with you that evening after an exhausting mission in Riga.  

“I don’t know.”

“Come on.” Wanda grabbed onto your arm, pulling you halfway out of your room and into the hallway. You had barely been settled into your quarters when she had stopped you dead in your tracks. Sometimes you cursed the beautiful girl in your head for being so eager to always have a good time, not knowing how she had the energy, but other times you just wanted to rest. You had barely made it out alive tonight, the wound from 9mm bullet that had grazed your upper shoulder and was not yet fully healed. How awful was it that you just wanted to take a hot shower and a nap?

“Bucky will be there.” The mention of his name made your upper belly catapult and you pursed your lips, looking away from her knowing eyes. 

“Stop, Wanda.” You looked down at yourself and half considered actually joining her after she mentioned Bucky would be there, “I need a shower. I was hoping the shots were good enough to last us into the night.” You excused halfheartedly. Your eyes darted down the hall that led into the main room and you wondered if he was already there.

Bucky Barnes was a leanly built, dark haired, and blue eyed good man that you had harbored a crush for ever since you met him on a mission along side Sam Wilson in Serbia. As much as you tried to avoid his presence after joining the team, it was no denying that you were irrevocably attracted to him. You always wondered what he looked like under his tactical gear. Of course Wanda knew about your crush, she was your best friend.

“Go take your shower and then come. I won’t take no for an answer.” She said smugly. She let go of your arm and leaned back on the balls of her feet.

The edge of your lips perk up. Damn her for being so sweet and adorable, it practically made you cave.

“Fine, I’ll be out in a few minutes,” you grabbed her shoulder as you watched and noticed her lean way too far back and you spun her slightly around in the direction of the kitchen, “you go sober up. Drink water, Wanda.”

She waved over her shoulder with a huff and you watched with a chuckle. You felt the butterflies flutter in your tummy at the thought of seeing Bucky soon — hopefully gaining a seat next to him on the couch.

The moment you stepped out of the shower you dried off and quickly slipped on a pair of grey Nike sweats and a white T-shirt.  You let your damp hair flow down your back, deciding you’d let it air dry for the rest of the night. Some of the strands began to seep in through the back of your shirt as you stepped into the hallway, closing your door.

Sam met you at your side as he came up behind you. “Those make your ass look fantastic.”

“Fuck you, Sam.” You pulled out your phone from your pocket.

He smiled. “I’m kidding. It looks okay.”

You snapped your head at him, smiling wide.

“Thanks.”

He dropped a playful arm around your shoulders and brought you into his hide for a tight hug. You chuckled, sliding your phone back into your pocket after seeing you had no new notifications.

Stepping into the dark living room that was illuminated but the blue glow of the moderate sixty inch television, your eyes quickly scanned the area. Vision and Wanda were already huddled up in the corner of the couch and, of course, Bucky was sitting off to the side. He wore a white shirt similar to yours and black sweats that hugged his thighs. The sight made you want to moan. He was looking through his phone, his legs spread apart, and a forearm on each knee as he looked used it. Sam made a snarky comment to him, something about looking gloomy, and Bucky laughed. 

His eyes snapped up just long enough for your gaze to meet. His features softened as he looked at you and couldn’t help but instinctually bite your lip, but bashfully look away at the same time. You followed behind Sam and he took a seat on Bucky’s right and you to his left by the arm of the couch.

His leg radiated off heat like a furnace and it made your skin burn. You watched as he continued to look through his phone and your eyes darted down to his legs again. You wondered what they felt like — if they felt as hard as they looked. You then looked at his hands, the veins making you itch to feel them on your skin. 

You couldn’t help a small groan that left your lips and your quickly catch your slip, clearing your throat embarrassingly loud. What was wrong with you? For all you knew, Bucky could be this total gentleman, just like the rumors you heard about him back when he was dating girls in nineteen forty-five. He was also a professional killer — killer of evil that is. He’s the best Avenger the public has seen since Steve’s passing. He was a great man, yet here you were having filthy and dirty thoughts about him.

Who even knew if he still thinks about sex like that? He probably has better and more important things to worry about.

“Can you hurry, I’m getting sleepy.” Wanda complained from her side of the couch.

“I’m trying to find it.” Bucky mumbled.

Your brows furrow together in confused. “What are we looking for?” “Hulu’s not working on the tv, so I’m just going to airdrop it from my phone.” Bucky says.

You smirked.

“You know what airdrop is, Voltaire?” Sam asks sarcastically.

Bucky ignores Sam completely as he straightens out his back. He spreads his legs just a little wider and his left leg ends up hitting yours. 

Your body stiffens at the contact.

“Got it. I think.” You mumbles under his breath. You’re not paying attention to what he’s doing, you don’t even offer help as you note him moving around way too long on his phone for someone who simply needs to press the airdrop feature. Instead you’re focused on the muscles of his back as they flex. His shirt is begging to be ripped by your hands and you suddenly remember the one moment you both had a few weeks ago when you were trying to pass him in the kitchen and you felt him graze your lower back with his hand as you did so. He had smiled so good and —

moaning.

Your stomach flips.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop —“

Your cheeks grow hot at the voice and suddenly the room is in a ball of commotion and your leg is cold. Bucky had gotten up and his hand was moving frantically over his phone, the other over the remote control. Your eyes are on the tv and you can’t believe what you are seeing.

Holy hell.

There was Bucky Barnes, his phone plopped up on something as he sat in front of the camera, legs spread. Except this time he wasn’t wearing anything at all. His abs clenched deliciously slow as his hand stroked the tip of his thick cock. His face was contorted in pleasure, his lips pink and full.

“Right there…”

“Bucky, what the hell!” “Dude, turn this shit off. What did you touch?” “Give it to me.” “Just exit it out of it!” “The control, give me the control.”

“Oh, my god.” Is Wanda’s exclamation in her tiny voice as she hides her face behind her hands.

“I’m trying. Oh my god.” Bucky’s voice wavered as he walks up to the tv, “i’m turning it off, don’t look at it.”

You were stunned, still haven’t said a single word.

“Right there, right there…” he panted as his hand focused on his mushroom tip, “Gonna make me cum.”

Those were the last few words that echoed around the room before the tv shut off and everyone was enveloped in total darkness and silence. 

Sam’s finger was on the control on the power button, a big amused smug on his face. Bucky, on the other hand, was running a hand over his face and then through his hair. He pulled on the strands and his arms and back flexed again.

You gulped, feeling the heat in your cheeks and core grow even more.

“Well, that was fun.” Sam says.

“Shut up.” Bucky groaned, clearly upset and embarrassed. 

“Come on, Bucky. It happens. We all do it.” Sam says with a shrug. You were happy it was dark in there so no one could see how red you were. You needed to get out of there, you needed some air or at least some water.

We all do it.

Bucky took a deep breath and then turned to Sam, “Everyone close their eyes, you turn it back on and just exit out of it and put the damn movie on.” Bucky mumbles, quickly handing Sam his phone.

Sam takes it from him with a chuckle. You watch from your peripheral as Bucky quickly makes a deadline for the kitchen. You watch as he fumbles his way into opening the fridge and then turning away from all of you to grab a mug in the cabinet. 

Part of you felt bad. Should you say something?

You cleared your throat.

“I’m gonna get some water.” You announce, pushing yourself off the couch.

You hear Sam snicker behind you and it takes all your muster to not turn around and slap him.

It’s not until you’re halfway to the kitchen that your curse yourself for deciding to do this. What were you even going to say?

Bucky takes a sip of whatever he poured himself from the mug, and turns to face the wall. Just then his eye catches yours.

Damn it. No turning back now.

It takes you a cup of water and some awkward sipping next to each other before you have the guts to speak up.

“Hey, it’s okay.” You say quietly, even though Sam already got the movie started so they probably wouldn’t even hear.

You watch Bucky’s human hand tighten around the white mug. It’s then that you catch the whiff of tangy orange juice in the air.

“Sam is right, we all do it.” Bucky perks a brow at this and you immediately regret what you said, “I mean, it’s nothing you should be ashamed of.” Bucky puts his now empty cup in the sink and you do the same. You catch both you and him off guard as you reach out to grab his arm, “hey.” 

He looks up at you suddenly, his pretty lips open and begging. You look down at them and he catches you.

Your name leaves his lips in a whisper, “It’s still embarrassing, I don’t want them to see that,” your eyes meet and the air between you is intense. You feel your breathing come out quicker as his own gaze drifts down to your lips and then back to your eyes again. He swallows thickly, “especially you.”

You are overwhelmed by the feeling of rejection that slams into you at his words. You take your hand off his arm like its on fire and he watches your movements like a hawk. He notices your reaction to his words and he wants to take them back immediately, but your next moves are way too quick for him to process. You nod quickly, give him a short smile that doesn’t necessarily reach your eyes, and walk back to the couch to watch the rest of the film.

Sitting next to him doesn’t end up being as nicely as you had hoped, and when it’s over you don’t even give him a proper goodbye. You rush into your quarters as fast as you possibly can, already thinking about escaping his heady aura.

You pull back the covers of your bed and run a hand through your hair. You knew your crush for him was only getting deeper by the second, but this was insane. How were you even going to be able to work around him this way?

You let out a long breath, preparing to head into the bathroom to brush your teeth when you hear a knock at your door.

Your brows knit together, and when you open your door you’re surprised to see Bucky leaning against the door frame.

You raise a brown and prepare your voice to not sound as vulnerable as your felt. “Hey.”

There’s a casual strand of hair over his forehead and he stares at you with a look you can’t pin point. He licks his lips and looks away.

“Hey.” His voice is quiet.

“What’s wrong?” You ask seriously.

“I—,” he takes a deep breath. He takes his hand off the door frame and runs it back through his hair, pushing that strand off his skin. His blue eyes are now more revealing than ever, “Earlier, when I said especially you,” you feel your skin heat up at the reminder of what happened earlier, what you had seen, and you notice it has the same effect on him as his own cheeks grow a blush hue.

“Look, Bucky, I get it. You said you were embarrassed —”

He shakes his head, “No, that’s not why.” He looks down at his feet and bites his lip before look up at you through thick lashes and a heavy gaze, “Can I come in?”

You’re slightly taken aback and also confused by his request but you nod.

You don’t even have the door closed all the way before you feel his hand on your neck. He’s spinning you around and he’s got your head up against the door. You only catch a quick glimpse of his eyes on your lips before he’s kissing you.

It’s possibly the sweetest and most tender kiss you’ve ever received in your life and it has your toes curling into the wooden floor beneath you. His metal grip tightens on your waist and he grounds his hips into yours, making you moan. His kisses slow down to pecks and he has you breathing hard when he pulls away. You’re speechless as he caresses your cheek with his thumb.

“I meant especially you because when I recorded that, I was thinking about you.” His voice is raspy and thick in the air. You feel your pussy clench around nothing at his vulgar words. “You deserve better than that.”

Your eyes look down to his lips, the lust taking over you in heavy waves. You lean in and kiss him softly.

“I do deserve better,” Bucky’s face crumbles slightly at your words, “I deserve a live show.”

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