#I think he's ready to settle down in which case OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL NAY
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Fooled round & fell in love (part four)
Eddie Munson x Fem!reader
summary: you’re in love with your best friend but your best friend thinks love is for losers, choosing to sleep around rather than settle down. You’ve had enough and you’re ready to move on from your feelings, luckily you find someone who might make that possible but does Eddie really hate love as much as he leads on?
warnings: filthy filthy smut 18+ MINORS DNI, dirty talk, daddy kink (sorry I’m a slut for it), slight perv!eddie, cocky eddie, unprotected sex, honestly it’s basically porn, angst
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has liked, commented and reblogged it really means so much to me. I am seriously shocked at how well this whole series has done, this is literally the first thing I’ve ever written so the fact that people love it is so special to me, so again thank you! 🙏🏻
“But s’kay, we’re here now and I’m gonna take such good care of you”
Eddie says while moving your soaked panties to the side, dipping his two fingers between your folds
“Fuck, I was right, you’re fucking soaked, princess” he says with lust blown eyes
“mmm” is all you can get out while Eddie gathers the wetness dripping from your hole and brings it back up to rub sloppy circles around your clit
“Oh my god!” You moan out as Eddie smirks down at you
“Not, god, but you can call me daddy” he says with a mischievous look on his face
You try to roll your eyes at his antics but fail when he slips a finger into your wet, warm hole instead your eyes close from the immense pleasure
His finger tip slides in and out of you a couple times until he’s moving it in deeper and curling it enough to hit that spot deep inside of you that you didn’t even know you had, then he’s slipping another finger in continuously hitting that spot as you begin to open your legs wider and grab at whatever you can, in this case the hair on the nape of his neck, which makes him moan out in pleasure
His fingers are now pounding into your pussy with the most delicious squelching sounds
“You hear that baby?” Eddie says looking deep into your eyes
“That’s how good daddy’s making you feel”
Your eyes roll back at his filthy words
“Fuck, I need to taste you y/n”
You weren’t sure what it was but something about Eddie declaring his desperation to eat your pussy while using your real name, not a pet name made you wanna submit to everything he said
“Yes, daddy please eat my pussy!” You moan out
Eddie let out the most guttural groan, and fuck was it sexy
Before you knew it he had already moved down between your thighs, he begins slipping your panties down your legs and rolling them off your ankles, Eddie stops and gets up going to his nightstand, he opens it and tosses your panties inside, closes it and then moves back between your thighs
At this point Eddie could do no wrong in your eyes, you were not at capacity to question him about anything, and he was loving the control he had over you, you’re usually a brat, always having something sassy to say, so the fact that you’re being so ready and willing to please him is driving him crazy, and making his cock so hard, it’s starting to hurt
After leaving a few chaste kisses to your thighs, Eddie grabs the back of your knees lifting your legs so high they almost touch the bed underneath your head, he sticks his tongue out and licks you from your dripping hole to your swollen clit, taking it in his mouth and sucking, he was so sloppy with his movements, but it felt fucking divine
He starts to shake his head while sucking at your clit and you just about lose it, grabbing onto the sheets and then grabbing a handful of his beautiful wavy locks
“EDDIE! HOLY SHIT!” You scream out
Eddie lifts his head to say “yeah that’s right, that’s the only name that should be leaving those pretty lips”
Then he’s diving back in to lick and suck on your clit until you can’t hold on any longer
“Eddie, baby I’m gunna c-cum!”
“Cum for daddy”
Was all you needed before your eyes were rolling back and you were clenching around nothing, the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had in your life
Once you can’t take anymore you grab a handful of his hair and bring him back up to you, but before you kiss him, you lick and suck on his lips tasting yourself
“mmm, I taste so good” you say in the most seductive voice that’s ever left your mouth
“Jesus, y/n I think your my dream girl” he says in amazement at your filthiness
Your heart bursts hearing his words, but you talk yourself down not wanting to get your hopes up, “he’s just saying that in the heat of the moment” you think to yourself
Before you could dive any further into those thoughts Eddie’s grabbing your chin and kissing you, not a sloppy, sexual kiss but a soft, intense and passionate kiss, you don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this before and holy shit, it’s intensifying all the feelings you already had for him
He pulls away and you let out a little whine and Eddie thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard
“You miss me already?” He says while pulling his sweat pants down and letting his cock spring out, of course that little shit wasn’t wearing underwear
You couldn’t help but widen your eyes at the size, definitely the biggest you’d ever seen, you didn’t even know they could be this big if you were being honest but you weren’t very experienced in that area as you’ve only been with two other guys not including Randy for obvious reasons
Eddie noticed the way you were starring and smiled “like what you see, princess?”
You just nod in shocked silence
You’re wondering how he’s even going to fit inside you, but you’re ready for the challenge
Before you can over think it, you’re standing up and pushing Eddie to sit down on the bed
“What are you doing?” He says in surprise
But as soon as he sees you sink down to your knees he doesn’t need any further explaining
You look up at him as you take his big cock in your dainty hand, giving it a few strokes
Eddie is looking right back at you, letting out a shaky breath
In this moment you decided you wanted to give him the best head of his life, you weren’t super experienced but you knew enough, your competitive side coming out, you knew you had to be better than all of those girls before you, maybe you shouldn’t have been looking at it from that angle but you truly couldn’t help it
After you stroke his cock a couple more times you let spit pool in your mouth before you’re spitting a glob right on his tip, you start to move down with your hand smearing it all over his meaty shaft
He’s already moaning out like crazy and you haven’t even wrapped your lips around him yet
“Fuck, that’s a good girl” he moans out
You bite your lip at his words
“You like that, you wanna be my good girl? He says
You shake your head yes, pulling out the most innocent yet seductive look you could
It worked, Eddie couldn’t get enough of this side of you. He always wondered what fucking you would be like but he never thought you would end up being like this
So confident and sexy, he almost felt like he was having sex with a porn star.
Eddie knew you weren’t that experienced so you were impressing him immensely
Finally after your teasing you take the head of his cock into your mouth, lightly sucking, you continue to move down taking inch by inch into your mouth until he’s hitting the back of your throat, you bob your head a few times letting his tip continuously hit your throat, you gag a bit and then let his cock go with a pop, you have so much spit in your mouth after gagging you decide to spit on the tip again, as you’re smearing the spit all over while pumping it, you notice his balls looked lonely so you start stroking a little faster tightening your grip, as you do that you take one of his balls in your mouth
“JESUS FUCK!” He moans out as his eyes roll back into his head
Then he’s looking back down at you, your pretty eyes looking back at him as you stroke him and suck on his balls. Eddie knew he was in love with you already but holy shit after this he was never gunna let you go, he starts thinking about you and Randy and how he almost got to see you like this, he couldn’t let that happen again.
After you’ve given his balls enough attention you grab his cock putting it back in your mouth and deep throating, fucking him with your mouth at this point
“Fuck you’re such a good girl, fuck y/n you’re my best girl” he says with so much adoration
His words only egging you on
Finally Eddie can’t take it anymore, he has to be inside you, has to feel you wrapped around him
He grabs your hair and pulls you off of him, once you pull off of his dick you’re looking up at him, with your mouth and chin full of your spit, as he’s staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, you smile up at him so innocently like you didn’t just have his balls in your mouth
“Please let me fuck you now, baby?”
You did not have to be asked twice
You stand up on your feet, but as soon as you do Eddie is throwing you onto the mattress and assuming the position you started out in
“Condom?” Eddie asks checking to see what you wanted, if he’s being honest he’s never fucked a girl without one, but with you Eddie wanted to feel everything, he wanted to be impossibly close to you
“I need you to fuck me raw Eddie” you moan out to him in complete desperation
Your words alone could make him bust, he’s never felt that way before, so turned on that you could do or say anything and he’d be complete putty in your hand
Eddie grabs his cock and rubs it over your folds teasingly
Then he’s angling it into your tight hole, slowly pushing in inch by inch, your mouth falls open in a silent moan, stretching you out so nicely, you couldn’t help but writh a little bit beneath him, you’ve never felt such pleasure, once he’s finally bottomed out completely and you take a few breaths, he begins moving in and out at a agonizingly slow pace, you’re so horny you can’t even take it anymore you need him to pound you into oblivion
“Harder Eddie, I need you to pound my pussy, please!” You don’t know where any of this was coming from but Eddie was bringing this little sex demon out of you and you were not mad about it, it felt nice speaking up and asking for what you wanted, never feeling comfortable enough to do that with your two other partners
“Fuck, ok baby, I got you” he says as he starts to fuck into you harder, skin slapping and pretty moans coming from you both was all that could be heard in Eddie’s room
As Eddie pounded into you, he looked down into your eyes removing some of the hair that was in your face, he leans down and kisses you, same passionate, intense kiss like last time, he breaks the kiss again going back to looking you in the eyes, his pace starts to slow a bit and he’s catching his breath from fucking you so hard, his gaze is so intense you almost wanna look away, as he leans in more he whispers
“I love you y/n, so fucking much”
You couldn’t even believe what you had just heard, you felt like you were dreaming about to be awoken at any second, everything was almost too much and you were on the verge of your second orgasm
“I-I fuck Eddie, I love you too! I’ve loved you for so long” you do your best to get your words out between moans
With that, Eddie starts pounding into you again he can tell you’re teetering on the edge and he needs to make you cum before he does
“Uh, uh” is all that leaves your mouth as your eyes roll back
Eddie is so close and he almost can’t hold it any longer so he sucks his thumb into his mouth getting it nice and wet before he’s swiping it over your clit, your body starts to tense and shake and your moans are getting even louder, you turn your face into Eddie’s forearm that is resting by your head and bite into it as you have the most earth shattering orgasm to date
The bite you gave Eddie mixed with your walls spasming and gripping his cock has him pulling out and spurting white ropes of cum all over your pussy
As he cums he lets out the most sexiest and deepest moan that you wish you could record and play over and over again when you got home.
After you both catch your breaths and come down from your highs, Eddie gets up and heads to the bathroom for a towel to clean you up with
After he wipes you down he throws the towel into his hamper, pulls his sweats on and goes to lay down next to you pulling your body closer to his
He breaks the silence “I really meant that” he said almost too nervous to bring it up
You turn to face him, as you rub your nose against his, making him smile
“I meant it too” you said back
Before Eddie could say anything else there was a knock at the door
You get up and smooth out your clothes as Eddie gets up to head to the front door, as he opens it the same blonde from the party is pushing her way inside throwing her arms around him and kissing his neck “hey baby!” Leaves her mouth and he looks over at you as you stand there frozen in shock.
part 5
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#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson smut#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson series
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There’s only one bed
Summary: you and Nat go in a mission and there’s only one bed
Word Count: 1.7k
fluff
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
!NOT PROOFREAD!
Natasha's POV:
Fury Just called me into his office to have a mission debriefing. Normally we'd have the brief with all the Avengers but, this is an undercover mission and let's just say majority of the team aren't very good at that. They blow their cover all the time and can't persuade people to save their lives. Ironic because that's exactly what it does on missions, save their life.
I've been told I'm going with someone but a name hasn't been given yet. I hope it's not an Agent from the academy. They're all newbies so I'll have to hold their hand the whole mission because they're clueless. As I'm walking I bump into Wanda.
"Oh hey, good luck on your mission!" she cheerfully said.
"Thanks also, do you know who I'm going with? I mean like any details about them?"
"All I know is apparently she's very popular among her fellow students, and by that I mean, she's hot."
"Students?! Great, so she's from the academy?"
"Yeah but, Fury wouldn't send her with you if she couldn't handle it."
"I guess your right but they can be really annoying needing to be walked through every single step of the mission."
"I guess you're right but, rumour has it, she's the best of the best. Your level even."
"Ha, I've heard that one a hundred times before, no one's better than me c'mon Wands you know that."
"Haha, yeaah I know Nat but just give her a chance?"
"Fine, I will but, I got to get to Fury now, I'll see you around."
"Bye, good luck!"
We parted ways and I gave her a smile. I walked into Fury's office and was welcomed by the sight of a beautiful woman with wavy y/h/c and shining y/e/c eyes. I going to be honest Wanda wasn't lying, she's perfect. Oh my god, I can't be thinking about these things she's my mission partner! She was already sat down in a chair opposite Fury when I came in so I took the chair beside her.
Fury started talking first, "Thank you for both making the time to be here, as you know this is an undercover mission so, pack a bag that'll last at least 2 day and 2 nights. We can never predict what'll happen at these kind of events."
"Speaking of, what event is it and why exactly are we going?" I questioned
"Well I'm glad you asked. It's part organised by Darren McHugh, not a big name in any industry but filthy rich. Attending the party is Lauren Emerson, your target. All you need is information from her about a weapon Hydra is developing. Her father has every Hydra scientist and engineer in his pocket so, she'll know a lot. Now, she's interested in women which is why there is no men on this case with you. I need you y/n to seduce her and get intel while Natasha watches your 6 and looks for another possible target who, isn't confirmed to be there, but there's a good chance he will be.” Fury explained.
"What's the other guys name?" the other girl asked Fury responded, "James Scott."
"Is that all?" I ask
"Yes that's all. Here's your personal copies of the file and be ready at the quinjet in 30 minutes."
With that we both left but I couldn't help feel a pang of disappointment shoot through me at the thought of her flirting with other people. Damn I really need to snap out of this.
I got up to my room and pack my things. I also put in my red dress and black heels for the party and go to the quinjet. As I'm walking I see her already standing there. She catches me staring as I walk towards her and she extends her hand.
Reader POV:
I look over and see Agent Romanoff coming towards me, eyes trained directly at me. I offer my hand for her to shake and she does. "Agent y/l/n, y/n y/l/n."
“Natasha Romanoff.” She responds
With that we both boarded the ship, settled down and engaged in conversation. It was a long flight and we were going to have to spend the next 24-48 hours together so, may as well get to know each other. This conversation however turned into shamelessly flirting with each other constantly.
Time skip to when the ship lands and they get to the hotel (still reader pov):
We get the the hotel and Natasha asks for our reservation at the front desk. While she's doing that I take a minute to really take in this place because it's massive. There's a chandelier on the ceiling and art all over the walls. The architecture is beautiful and it has gold accents along every wall. It also smelt like vanilla, don't know why that's relevant but it smells nice.
I hear a 'thank you' and 'enjoy your stay' so I assume that Nat has got the key so I begin walking to the lift (elevator). I step in and so does Natasha just a bit behind me. She presses the button to the 5th floor and we stand in a comfortable silence for the short 10 second ride. The doors open with a ding and we step out and go look for our room. Natasha takes the lead and goes straight to our door and opens it with the key card.
"Wow Shield really outdid themselves with this one ay?" I think aloud
"Yeah, they really did." She agreed
As we were walking around the both of us were quick to realise something.
"There's only one bed." Natasha pointed out
"I was just thinking the same thing. I'll take the sofa I don't mind at all." I say trying to come up with a solution.
"No, it's okay I can." Natasha instantly tries to shut me down
"Honestly I'll sleep there it's fine." I repeat
"Look uhm, you don't have to but to save ourselves a very polite argument do you wanna just share it. I mean it's a double so..?" She nervously asked
"Yeah sure I mean, if your up for it?" I half mumble
"I'm the one who suggested it dummy of course i'm up for it."
I chuckle at her response and put down my bags by the bed. If I was being honest with myself I couldn't help the butterflies that formed when thinking about sharing a bed with her. Goddamnit, she's my superior I can't be thinking like this.
Natasha POV:
I brush my teeth and get changed in the bathroom whilst y/n orders room service. When I walk out she was getting changed so she only had a bra and pyjama trousers on.
"Oh.., oh! I'm so sorry!"
No sorry it's my fault I should've told you I was changing."
"It's fine, I mean we're both girls right? Nothing we haven't seen before."
"Yeah, yeah you're right, both girls."
"Never seen a girl with abs like that though."
The blush spread on her face faster than a forrest fire. She was flustered and I took great pride in knowing I did that. I made my way to the kitchen so I'd be ready for room service when it came.
Three knocks at the door alerted me that the food was here. I thanked the staff and put the food on the counter.
"Hey y/n tea's here!" I yelled to her. (It depends where your from but tea is just how we say evening meal, like dinner)
"Thank god, i'm starving." She gave me bright smile before plating everything up.
We sit on the sofa with our food and watch whatever trashy TV shows are on. We laugh at parts of it and it gives me butterflies, her laugh has quickly become my favourite sound. It's just so beautiful and care free, it also means she's happy which makes me happy. I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear her softly say.
"Hey you okay? Lost you for a second there."
“Yeah, oh um, yeah I'm fine just thinking."
“About what? You were very focused."
"Nothing don't worry about it. Anyway, it's late we should go to bed."
"Your right I'll take the plates into the kitchen."
While she was doing that I went to the bedroom and set up the bed. I was laying down when she came in, she tentatively lowered herself o to the bed and layer down facing me.
"You sure it was nothing?"
"It wasn't really nothing and I'm about to talk a lot and I don't want you to talk till I'm done okay?" I respond with a hesitancy in my tone.
"Go for it." she says.
"I like you, like really like you. I know it's wrong because I'm your superior and your not even out the academy yet but I'm 25 and your what like, 20, 21 give or take so it's not like it's weird. Also can you blame me? You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect. Even though we only just met I can't help falling for you y/n. I'm sorry if I've just ruined the friendship we built today but I really needed to get that off my chest."
I look her deep in the eyes for any kind of reaction to what I just said. After a couple seconds of processing she smiled at me. Probably the biggest smile i've ever seen her have. She still hasn't said anything so I speak up. "Well?"
She doesn't answer me, instead she gently grabs my face and kisses me softly. Our lips dance against one another as second nature. Once air becomes a problem we release from each other's grasp.
"I like you too, if that wasn't already clear."
She giggled like a school girl when I grabbed her waist and started peppering kisses all over her face. She stopped and snuggled closer to me and buried her head in my chest.
"This woman is the one for me" I thought to myself as I held her safe in my arms. Although I really wasn't looking forward to this mission now.
#natasha romanoff x you#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff#marvel fanfiction#marvel#wlw#lesbian pride#wlw fanfic#lesbian#sapphic#wlw pride
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can i pls request something abt xavier and op who can see people's auras?? like shes new to nevermore and sees everyone's auras changing according to their humor but she just?? cant see xavier's and that bothers her, so she tries to get emotions from him, anger, happiness yk, then idk maybe they go to the raven together and at the end of the night when they finally kiss she can see a bright pink aura around him :]] or whatever way you feel like writing it (you can write reader as GN if you want as well!)
i don’t get it?
pairings: xavier thorpe x reader
summary: you saw everyone’s auras except xavier’s, who knew a kiss could change it
warnings: reader is an asshole, swearing, idk i think thats it
a/n: im sorry this was really shitty, i am more focused on school mostly rn, and this is NOT PROOFREAD, REBLOGS HELP A LOT!
nevermore.
at first you thought you were gonna be an ‘outcast’ at an outcast school, but you made a couple friends, enid, her aura was a bright yellow, probably because she’s always smiling and full of joy, and wednesday who had black, ‘cause she was so mysterious, and had strength. you could see all of your friend’s auras except for xavier, the guy you like, of course it has to be the guy you like.
you were at the quad with ajax, so you told him about it for some help, maybe he knows what to do.
“i just can’t see his aura! and, of course i have to have a crush on him, for god’s sake!” you whined
“maybe, try getting some emotions out, make him happy, sad, whatever” the gorgon said
“thats a great idea, ajax! i owe you for this one!” you say
“y/n- please, don’t go too far on him- hes kinda a sensitive kind of guy, okay?” he says worried
“i’ll try, i’ll make sure hes okay” you gave him a smile as you left the quad
“goodluck!” he screamed
you decided to make xavier happy, the easiest one first so you couldn’t cause any harm, so you decided to do one of his favorite things he does with you, the carnival. good thing it was a friday, so no school tomorrow which is perfect.
classes were finally over, so you could finally try to find xavier.
you ran to him when you saw him in one of the hallways, “xavier! hi! do you maybe wanna do something tonight?” you say
“sure! what do you think we should do?” he looked down at you
“wanna go to the carnival, maybe?” you smiled
“okay then, it’s settled! be there at 6:30 sharp, y/n” he gave you a big smile and patted your head
“see you there, xav!” you walked away and blushed because he patted your head, you kinda felt bad you were kinda forcing him to show emotions.
-
you were scrolling through social media while in bed, seeing your friend’s posts and enid’s new gossip about the school, until you checked the time, it was 5:24PM, so you decided to get ready for your plans with xavier.
you decided to wear pants with a chase atlantic shirt, and you brought a jacket just in case.
“oh my god! y/n, do u have a date?!” enid, your roommate squealed out of excitement
“it’s not a date, idiot, im just hanging out with xavier at a carnival” you say
“just admit it, it is kinda a date, y/n” she smiled
“well i guess- but it’s like a friends kind of date?” you say
“whatever you say, y/n” the werewolf gave you a wink
you rolled your eyes and looked at the time, 5:59PM and decided to text xavier
y/n: hey, is it ok if i come right now? im a bit too early
xavier: uh yeah sure, meet me by the ferris wheel
at the carnival
you walked up to xavier, “hi! what do you wanna do first?” you gave him a smile
“photobooth?” he questioned
“yes!”
you two walked in the photobooth, getting ready for the camera, you both did some funny poses and one where he was looking at you but you were too busy posing to even notice he was looking at you
you guys walked out and grabbed your photos, and saw that he was looking at you in one of the photos, you smiled.
“we look so cool!” you say
“wanna do balloon darts?” he asked
“okay!” you gave him a slight smile
-
you kept missing every dart and it was getting kind of annoying.
“idiot, let me help you” the blonde boy said and grabbed darts
he popped almost every one of the balloons and won a stuffed bear for you.
“thank you” you say.
it was the next day after u hung out with xavier, and you still didn’t see his aura that time. you sighed and saw ajax come up to you.
“anything yet?” he asked
“no, i tried making him happy by hanging out with him” you whined as you covered your face with your hands
“maybe you just need to kiss him” ajax teased
“shut up!” you whispered as you hit him lightly on the hand
“speak of the devil” he gave you a mischievous smirk and walked away when he saw xavier walking your way
“what-“ you got cut off by a tall boy behind you
“y/n! last night was fun, do you maybe wanna go to the weathervane today? we could study there, or i could go on my own?” he gave you a light smile
you wanted to say yes so bad, but you decided to make him jealous today, or mad.
“uh, sorry, no. i have a date with tyler today, maybe tomorrow?” you say nervously
his smile faded when he heard you say the last part, he didn’t really have a good relationship with tyler.
“right, have fun, y/n.” he says and walked away from you
did you go too far? you sighed.
but he mentioned about going to the cafe on his own, and tyler was there. so you decided to go there aswell to meet up with tyler.
at the weathervane
you saw xavier sitting in one of the booths and walked past him as you felt his eyes on you.
you rang the bell and waved to tyler and hugged him.
“hi tyler!” you say energetically
“hi, y/nn!” he says
you could see xavier fuming at your peripheral vision, perfect. but you still couldn’t feel his aura. you looked over to xavier’s booth and saw that he was gone. i guess it really affected him.
2 weeks later
it was 2 weeks after the whole weathervane thing, you didn’t really talk to xavier much because of his jealousy and if you were being honest, you kinda regretted getting xavier’s emotions out of him just so that you can see his aura.
tomorrow was the rave’n, so you and your friends went shopping for your outfits.
you already got yours, but you were missing one thing, a date. you wished xavier was your date right now. but it was not possible. so you just decided to go solo.
-
it was the next day and it was 7:30PM, the rave’n starts at 8 o’clock so you decided to dress up in your outfit already. you met up with your friends downstairs.
“lets go!” enid squealed
you all walked down the stairs and you could feel everyone staring at you, including xavier.
your friends decided to get drinks and dance. while you just sat there all alone. a slow, romantic song started playing. and everyone and their s/o started to slow dance. you sighed but felt a light tap on your shoulder.
“hey, wanna dance?” xavier gave you a smile and held his hand out.
you grabbed his hand and went to a corner, you placed your hands around his neck as he put his around your waist and you two swayed your hips to the music.
“i’m sorry, i only did the whole tyler shit so i could see your aura ‘cause i couldn’t see it, and also because i liked you.” you say
“you’re an idiot, you know that?” he says chuckling
“your idiot, of course” you smile
he cups your face and leans in to kiss you desperately and you kissed him back. you felt a bright pink aura from him, you smiled against the kiss.
------------------------------------------------
I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE HEHEHEHE SEND MORE REQUESTS BTW PLS
#percy hynes white#percy hynes white x reader#xavier thorpe x y/n#xavier thorpe angst#xavier thorpe fluff#xavier thorpe smut#xavier thorpe x reader#xavier thrope x you#xavier thorpe#xavier thorpe x fem!reader#xavier smut#xavier x you#xavier x reader#xavier thrope imagine#xavier thrope x reader#xavier thorpe fanfiction#xavier thrope fanfic#xavier thorpe fanfic#xavier thorpe imagine#xavizgirl
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The Smartest Dumb Person She's Ever Met (Shules Shawn Genius Reveal Fic)
“Shawn, this is ridiculous.” Even as she says it, Jules knows her smile completely undercuts her protests as Shawn sets out more and more and more plates of food.
“Babe, I told you, we are finding our new go-to takeout spot tonight,” Shawn insists. “We’ll just dump all the leftovers on Gus! He’ll love it, maybe even more than he loves watching debates about rash cream side-effects.”
“I don’t think he loves watching those, Shawn.”
“Then why does he spend hours on it every few months?”
“Well, maybe, because he has a day job. We’re not all so lucky to be employed by spirits and whims,” Jules teases lightheartedly as Shawn sits down and starts putting together a sampler plate. “Speaking of which, we didn’t talk about what I should expect from living with a psychic.”
“Aside from constant swooning and daily hair updates?”
“Aside from those.”
“Well, Jules, I’m afraid I can’t tell you what to expect, because I don’t know either.” Shawn hands her the plate, and sniffs. “Truth be told, this is uh… this is the first time I’ve moved in with somebody.”
Jules smiles softer. “Mine too. But I just mean… how often do you have visions outside of cases? And what about your dreams, are those affected?”
“No, not as far as I know- but I have been told I talk in my sleep.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Because you know me.” He kisses her before dishing up his own plate. “But uh, yeah, no psychic vision dreams for the most part.. … Well, sometimes, but not usually. And I can control the visions at home, don’t even worry another second about it.”
“Really? Because I thought you were completely beholden to them at all times.”
“Ehhhh… more or less.”
“Shawn.”
“Alright, so maybe a minor one here and there- but I’ll save the big stuff for the cases. No dramatic psych-outs in the living room.”
“Thank you.” Jules takes a bite of one of the various dishes on her plate, and coughs. “Oh my god, they used so much black pepper!”
“Let me try- hck! Oh my- ekch! That is just stupid, how much there is-”
“Get some water-”
“On it, on it, holy-”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shawn doesn’t have psychic visions or dreams, just like he promised.
But he has something else going on.
Jules starts noticing it after the first few days of lovey-dovey, disgustingly happy mushiness finally starts to settle into domesticity. She sits at the table and Shawn has a big stack of toaster waffles already drenched in syrup ready for both of them, even though he’s not a natural early riser, because it’s a day they both have off and it’s more Brunch than Lunch, and Shawn… isn’t eating.
His head is tilted, his eyes narrowed, and that usually means he’s having a vision. But this morning he’s just barely reading the newspaper- Jules is sure he’s not actually reading it, his eyes aren’t moving right for that, in fact they’re barely moving at all. They’re narrows and still, taking the paper in as one whole picture, probably absorbing nothing.
And she starts to realize he gets that look a lot, with no visions following them. He gets it when the delivery guy drops off their food, he gets it when the news comes on, he gets it when Lassiter comes over to drop off something Jules left in his car during a stakeout, and again and again and again.
And then it just goes away, and he doesn’t say anything. And she assumes, well, it’s a minor vision. He has them a lot more often than she had previously thought, clearly. Small, apparently unimportant visions that he just brushes off.
And then he tells her that they should stop getting takeout from the place two blocks away because the delivery guy is about to quit from being overworked. There’s no fanfare, no hand to his head, no sharp inhale- just an offhand statement that slips out right after he closes the front door.
It’s not the first time she’s heard him make a random prediction, not even close. But something about the understated nature of it makes her pause, and after a second she asks, “What makes you say that?”
“You’ve seen the state of that car they have him driving, it's one rough road away from falling to pieces. Plus his shoes are completely tattered, and his jeans, basically everything that’s not given to him as part of the uniform, but they’re also all stiff still- he just bought them and they’re already wrecked because of how many deliveries he’s making. That’d piss anyone off enough to quit, especially at his age.”
She hadn’t noticed that- at least, not all of it. She knew the car was a piece of junk, and the clothes were tattered, but thinking back she sees what Shawn means by them still looking stiff and out-of-the-box new. And somehow, somehow, she feels like if she points out that she hadn’t caught onto all of that herself, something… big, would just… slip away.
“That’s a shame, I like him,” is all she says instead. “He has a nice smile.”
“He just got his braces off, he’d probably literally skip for joy if he heard you say that,” Shawn says, handing over her food. Again, no fanfare, no theatrics- he just says it, unthinkingly, almost distracted as he digs into his honey cashew shrimp and chicken.
It’s different.
It has to be a vision, but it’s different.
And again, Jules gets a feeling that pointing that out would break… something, about this moment. So she makes a note, and tucks it away in her mind, and hopes she’s able to remember to follow up later.
“Good for him.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shawn talks in his sleep most nights, as it turns out.
It’s not very comprehensible majority of the time- usually all she can make out, when she’s even awake to hear it, is Shawn mumbling something to or about Gus. At first it’s a little offensive, frankly, that her boyfriend dreams about his best friend constantly and she never hears her own name, but it quickly becomes just… normal. Like most of Shawn and Gus’s codependency. Some days she feels like she’s dating both of them, just a little bit. It bothers her less than it probably should, certainly less than she would expect if she was an outside observer. Gus was Shawn’s original rock, his strongest pillar, his tightest tether, and she knew she’d never truly be able to match that even before she and Shawn got together.
She should probably ask Gus about some of Shawn’s more daily psychic dealings, actually- he’s known Shawn for their whole loves, so he must have lots of advice for her about how to deal with it. And how to deal with the rest of Shawn’s… quirks. Which she loves about him, she truly does, as messy and intrusive as some of those quirks are in their lives. Psychic visions, murder scene dates, fearing that Shawn’s going to get himself killed with his daily recklessness. She had kissed him on that Canadian overlook expecting all of it, thinking she had finally come to learn everything she needed to learn about him.
And then, all those months and years later, she’s laying in bed unable to sleep and reading a book to try and calm down when Shawn mumbles out something shockingly understandable about the case they’re both working.
She freezes, as though her silent eye movements while reading could somehow disturb the moment.
“Doesn’ ma’ s’nse,” Shawn mumbles in his sleep. “Th’ t’re tr’cks…”
Jules slowly lowers her book.
Shawn rolls over, facing her now, still fast asleep, lightly snoring. Jules watches him like a deer caught in headlights.
“T’res don’ ma’ch,” Shawn mumbles out. “Tr’d too w’de…” His brow pinches, his lips pursing a little. There’s a long beat of silence.
Jules holds her breath. Like with the delivery boy, something about this moment just feels… big. Important.
Shawn’s face smooths out. “M’gn’ts.”
Magnets.
Jules thinks about the case that they’ve been working together all week, a hit-and-run. They’ve got one witness who got a whole license plate number, they’ve got the plate number matching a car of that exact description, and the only problem is they’ve also got a suspect who vehemently denies ever driving that route in his entire life. And like always when things seem straightforward, Shawn had declared that he wasn’t convinced they had the right guy.
But that doesn’t help her figure out what magnets have to do with anything. After a moment she doesn’t have to figure it out on her own, because Shawn makes a soft noise of sleep-laden realization.
“Th’ s’x an’ th’ n’ne.” His hand twitches, roughly tracing out the numbers on the sheets. “Fl’p ‘em…”
Magnets.
License plate number magnets. Moveable, alterable plate numbers.
“S’me car m’ke, s’me num’er, diff’ren’ t’re.” There’s a note of satisfaction, even in the sleep-slurred mess that is Shawn’s voice. He smiles a little in his sleep, and moments later… he’s snoring.
Jules sits, book almost falling out of her nonexistent grip, stunned into silence.
Shawn just cracked the case. In his sleep. With logic and authentic detective deduction.
… But that’s not possible.
Shawn doesn’t work like that. He doesn’t pay attention to clues, reason out possibilities, connect dots. He receives visions, he relays them, he makes connections with the help of his abilities. And maybe she’s seen some times that contradict tha belief, but- but it’s just not how he works. She would know.
… Maybe he does get psychic dreams. Maybe he just doesn’t know he gets them? But there was a thought process there, and a natural one for it to come to him so easily in sleep. She’d heard every step of the process, followed him on each conclusion.
… But the tire treads not matching? Jules relaxes, closing her book and turning off the lamp. That had to be psychic. No-one else noticed or said anything about tire treads through the investigation. How would he even pick out and remember that detail, anyway, without spiritual guidance? He’d seen only photos of the crime scene, and not great ones at that- darn trainees.
… Psychic dreams. Has to be.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Jules, look at that.” Shawn smiles and points at the ducks in the pond they’re having a picnic by. “There’s a bunch of baby ducks over there.”
Jules gasps and looks over eagerly, but quickly frowns. “Where?”
“Right there, in those tall hot-dog looking things.”
“Um, the reeds?”
“I’ve heard it both ways.”
Jules squints, searching for signs of ducklings. “Where are you seeing them?”
“Right there, look.” Shawn leans and points harder , like that will help somehow. “You can totally see the hotdogs moving.”
“I think that’s just the wind.”
“No, look, the moms are circling the hot dogs and luring the feeders over to them.”
“What?” Jules looks at the edges of the pond now, and realizes that, yes, the ducks are luring the people with the food towards the reeds- and finally, the ducklings swim out into view.
“Told ya.” Shawn takes a bite of an eclair.
“How did you even see that movement from here?” Jules looks back at Shawn in awe.
“You kidding? They were totally moving all over.”
“But it looked like the wind.”
“The wind is blowing the total opposite direction. Look, you can see it in the ripples.”
“Huh.” Jules looks back at the pond. “That’s really impressive, Shawn. I had no idea your eyesight was that good.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve been asked to be studied by science for my eyesight, but they said it would drain all the color out of them, and then of course I’d have to become a supervillain.”
“Or a mysterious warning corpse in the basement of a haunted mansion.”
“Neither of which I felt up for.”
“Right.” Jules giggles, and looks back at the pond.
She has no idea how he noticed that. Not unless it was psychic, somehow. And further, she has no idea why he’s acting like she should be able to notice it, too. And, like before with the delivery boy, it’s not the first time he’s done this. But it’s the first time it feels…
Like something she needs to pay attention to.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Shawn?” Jules sets down the bowl of brownie batter when she realizes he’s stopped licking the spoon and is staring, eyes glazed, at the wall. It’s probably just a vision. She should just consider it a vision. There’s no real reason to think it’s not.
“Shawn,” she tries again, shaking his arm slightly. He startles, just a bit, and then clears his throat and puts the licked-”clean” spoon down on the counter. “Are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah.” His eyes flick back to the wall. “... Jules, uh, does the wall look…” He pouts a little, shrugging. “Suspicious, to you?”
“Suspicious?” She looks at the same spot. “It’s… a wall.”
“Yeah… but there’s something a little off, isn’t there?” Shawn walks over to it, and taps his knuckles against the plaster. “... Sounds off, actually. Come here, listen.”
She obliges, leaning in close. Shawn taps one spot on the wall, and then the spot he said sounded strange.
“... What am I supposed to be hearing, Shawn?”
“It’s more hollow over here.” Shawn taps the first spot, and then taps the second. “Right here, it sounds more uh… almost like wet cardboard.”
She listens again. “Okay… I think I hear it now. But you didn’t hear the wall from over at the counter, did you? Was it a vision?”
“There’s a ring around this spot,” Shawn mumbles, like he didn’t hear her. He smacks his lips, and then jerks away from the wall as the focus suddenly drops away into his usual energy. “Man, we’ve got a leak in the walls! I knew that landlord was lying when he said it was all up to code.”
“A leak? Shawn, we tapped the wall a little bit, that doesn’t really tell us anything.”
“Yeah, maybe… but I’m calling someone, tomorrow, just- remind me in the morning.” His eyebrows twitch up, his mouth forming an ‘O’ as he realizes something. “If I play this card right I might be able to knock a bit off our rent.”
“Shawn, you are not blackmailing our landlord over a leak that might not even exist.”
“I’m not! Not yet! Just planning to, possibly. So we can have more money for date nights!”
“It’s illegal.”
“Alright, alright. …How illegal, exactly?”
“Shawn.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It’s trickery. It’s lying. It’s wrong.
But she had been sitting at her desk, reviewing the latest round of new Detective’s Exam scores, when she’d remembered Shawn saying years ago that he had taken the exam when he was 15, and got 100.
A perfect score.
And maybe that meant very little to her once, when Shawn was just the strange somewhat charming guy who came into her life only on occasion to make a case more interesting. But now, dating Shawn and seriously considering spending the rest of her life with him, now as soon as she had recalled that tidbit it began to haunt her. Every time she watched Shawn around the house, and even in the station. It echoed in her head while she watched him look over reports, scan crime scenes, even while he was just watching movies and predicting things about their endings.
I got 100. … Why? What did you guys get?
He hadn’t even been bragging.
So now she sits on the couch, a thick binder in front of her, guilt twisting in her stomach at what she’s about to do.
She’s about to lie to her boyfriend, with the full intent of tricking him into the taking the exam again, just to see.
When he walks into the house, slightly out of breath and carrying something that looks suspiciously like the pineapple statue put into evidence during the last case, he startles upon seeing her and hides the statue behind his back. But his excuse dies in his gaping mouth when he sees how stressed she looks.
“Babe? Everything okay?” He sets the statue- it’s definitely the same one put into evidence- aside as he moves to sit next to her.
“Fine,” she sighs. “Just- Chief Vick asked me to help review the Detective’s Exam after someone complained there were errors in it.”
“Hmm. That person should either pass immediately, or be barred from detective status forever.”
She giggles softly. “That’s a little extreme. It’s just, this is going to take forever, and I was hoping to go out today and finally try that spa that opened up.”
“Well you totally should!” Shawn looks at the binder. “Just, leave it for another time, it can’t be that pressing. After all, Santa Barbara already has it’s best detective.”
She rolls her eyes fondly.
“And, she just so happens to be dating an equally awesome but more brunette psychic detective.” He kisses her on the cheek. “So she should go out and treat herself while her awesome boyfriend tries to divine if there’s actually a mistake.”
“Oh, the spirits know that kind of thing?”
“Some of them, some of them.”
“Well, let them know I’ll still have to check their work, so they better show it.” She gives him a kiss back and stands. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
The guilt gnaws at her as she drives to the spa, as she picks her treatment, as she gets her facial and her massage and her body scrub. She knows she had to- she knows Shawn well enough to know he’d never retake the exam if she just asked him outright. He’d be suspicious why she was asking him to, and she’s not sure she can tell him without making him think she’s doubting him.
She’s not. He is psychic.
But he might also be more.
And if he is, he’s hiding it- maybe not as much as he did when she would only see him at the station, or planned dates, but he’s still hiding it. She sees him seeing things, noticing details, making connections, and when he does he never seems to…
She’s not sure. She just knows that he treats these moments like they’re something a normal person can do when they can’t, or like they aren’t happening at all, or even…
Even like they’re psychic.
She takes the long way home, breathing deeply the whole time. Shawn lies to her every day- she’s not blind to that. Usually about a case, usually because he’s more than likely doing something she could get reprimanded for just knowing about. She doesn’t like it, but even though he lies he doesn’t trick her, at least as far as she knows.
When she gets home, Shawn isn’t there. She finds a note on the coffee table, stuck to the binder. Gus called, be back soon, XOXO.
She smiles, takes a deep breath, and opens the binder.
There’s mostly Doodles. His artistic skill on display ranges from shockingly masterful to shockingly kindergarten-like, some doodles belonging in a gallery and some not even qualifying for the fridge under a free pizza place magnet. Aliens, dinosaurs, scenes from movies, random invention ideas…
No answers, at first, which disappoints her. Until she notices that one doodle seems to coordinate to one of the questions, and it’s like a Rosetta Stone.
Not all, but many of the doodles seem to relate to the answer to a question in some way, and where there’s not doodles there’s not-answers that show knowledge of the actual answer. There’s snark and quips and jokes that contain answers, and every once and a while she even finds something straightforward smushed among the almost deflective content of the pages.
Deflective.
He’s deflecting that he knows the answers. The more she flips through, the more she sees it. Shawn went out of his way to answer without answering, to show his knowledge without admitting he has it. He couldn’t just not answer, and he couldn’t just pretend not to know- but he couldn’t outright show it either.
“Oh my god.” Jules closes the binder and puts her face in her hands. “Of course. Henry.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jules finds Henry’s detective’s exam score a week later. It’s high- not perfect, but high. She finds Shawn’s score to compare. Like he’d said. It was perfect.
She goes digging through the file archives on her lunch break, and finds the actual exam itself- someone preserved it, because a fifteen year old got 100.
It’s not like the one Shawn did in their living room.
It’s still got doodles, tangents, signs of distractibility- but the answers are much more plain. Forthright. It reads like an actual potential detective, taking the exam seriously, trying his best.
And she’s pretty sure she knows who gave Shawn that exam.
Of course, of course. His dad was a cop, a revered one, of course Henry taught Shawn some skills- more than some! How did that never occur to her? It feels silly now, to think Shawn wouldn’t have at the very least picked up a few tricks of the trade, even if Henry hadn’t taught Shawn outright.
She puts the file back, smiling and satisfied with knowing she was right and Shawn does have genuine, non-psychic detective skills like she’d suspected.
… The smile fades when she starts to wonder why he pretends he doesn’t.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Carlton, can I ask you about something?”
Lassiter looks up from his paperwork and sets his pen aside. “Anything to save me from the banality of filling another report out.”
“You… met Shawn’s mom, right?”
Lassiter’s mouth snaps shut, his eyes going a little wide. “This isn’t anything about you and Spencer’s… relationship progress, is it?”
“What? … Oh, god, no! No, I’m not looking to propose or anything.”
He sags (well, relatively- Lassiter never truly sags or loosens up) with relief. “In that case, yes, she did my last psych eval.”
“Right. And you-you talked with her a lot?”
“As much as was required by the situation.”
“Was she… like Shawn, at all? It’s just that, well, even though she’s been in town three times now, I’ve never actually talked with her beyond some passing comments.” She’s barely involved with Shawn’s life- if Jules didn’t know how absent Madaline is from her son’s existence prior to dating, she’d have assumed Shawn’s mom hated her by how little they’ve actually interacted.
Lassiter thinks for a moment, looking out into the bullpen, and then looks down and picks his pen back up. “Not really, no. Closest she came was recognizing the Clint Eastwood movies I was telling her stories from. She was generally professional, somewhat soft-spoken, and somehow got me to open up without even half of the pressing nature of her son.”
Jules nods. “Did she… mention Shawn at all?”
“Only at the end, after I shared my innermost thoughts. … You know, I take it back. That was the most Spencer -like thing she did during our sessions.”
“Huh.” Jules looks down at her own paperwork. That answers nothing about why Shawn is pretending he isn’t a good detective. It can’t be his dad, Henry would be much softer and more proud if Shawn showed off that skillset, surely. Madaline seemed like a good lead…
“She was weird, though. Outside of the relation to Spencer. She didn’t even record our sessions, she claimed to have… dammit.” Lassiter frowns as he tries to remember. “Something about being able to remember everything she hears with almost perfect accuracy.”
Jules’s head snaps up. “What?”
“I thought she was bullcrapping, but I got ahold of the file and didn’t actually find any errors in the quotes she included- she must’ve tapped the room or something.”
“Carlton, go back. Perfect memory? Shawn’s mom?”
“See, I believed her about it until I learned that. With Henry’s recall, and a mom with perfect memory for sounds, there’s no way Spencer should be as airheaded as he is. Not unless his brain short-circuited from overwhelming competency it just wasn’t built for.”
“Oh my god.” Jules puts her face in her hands. “Carlton, what if that’s exactly what it is?”
“What? What are you on about?”
“Nothing, just- it’s nothing.” She fixes her ponytail and then stands up. “I’m taking my lunch break, I’ll bring you back a coffee.”
“Uh, and a danish.”
“And a danish.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Henry swings the door open with a readied scowl, but it drops away when he sees it’s Jules standing on his porch. “Oh, Detective O’Hara.”
“I’m here on a personal matter, actually.” Jules smiles a bit. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Sure, sure, come on in.” Henry steps aside. “I actually just grilled up a catch from this morning, if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you, that sounds great.”
Minutes later they’re both sitting at the table, Jules sees a little carving in the top of the old piece of furniture, a shaky scratching of Shawn and Gus Club right by her elbow. It makes her smile.
“So, ah, what is this about?” Henry gestures at her with his fork. “Shawn’s treating you right, isn’t he?”
“We’re great,” she assures. “I just wanted to ask a few questions about Shawn’s gift.”
Henry leans his head to the side, frowning. “I uh, can’t really help you there, Juliet.”
“Not the psychic one.”
Henry pauses, his frown deepening. He looks up at her with something… unreadable, in his eyes. “How do you mean?”
“I’m not doubting him,” Jules rushes to reassure, and it does seem to loosen something in Henry’s twisted expression, but not by much. “I just… I’ve always known Shawn was a little smarter than he let on, you know? But I’ve had reason to believe, since we moved in together, that it’s much more extreme of a mask than I thought.”
Henry puts his fork down entirely. “What’d he do?”
“Just… little things, that I used to think were maybe minor visions or feelings, but sometimes… sometimes he just says things that blow my mind. He notices way more little details than he used to let on, for example, and then today Carlton mentioned that his mom has an um…” She take sout her phone to look it up again.
“Eidetic tonal memory,” Henry fills in before she can even begin typing. “She does. I have a visual one.”
Jules looks at him, quickly tucking her phone away. “And then Carlton said that maybe Shawn struggled with handling that- well, he didn’t say it in those exact words-”
“Shawn does not struggle with his memory, except for when he wants to.” Henry’s mouth is puckered, like he’s eating a lemon dipped in sour dust. “You’re saying you think he’s faking visions.”
“Not all of them.” That’s just not possible, with everything he figures out. “But some of them, and I just- I just can’t figure out why he would fake them for some of the things he does. I mean, the other night he talked in his sleep and basically walked me through his process step-by step by accident, and then the next day he came into the station and pretended it just came to him when he reexamined the scene photos.”
“Shawn has always had an overenthusiasm for drama,” Henry starts, speaking quickly and with heavy exasperation. “He likes things to be public and dramatic as much as possible, especially when it’s an embarrassment to himself and to me.”
“That’s a little harsh, I think.”
“Trust me, it isn’t. Shawn has never wanted to embrace his full potential, Juliet- yes, he has both a visual and tonal eidetic memory, and on top of that I trained him to be a detective for his entire life. I knew, I knew he had the ability to be the best detective this department has ever seen, if he just-!” Henry stops himself and rubs one hand over his head. “But he likes living in a fantasy more. He likes slacking off, and refusing to apply himself, and avoiding responsibility, so he… indulged his psychicness, over his actual detective skills.”
“... I’m not sure he has,” Jules says carefully, watching for Henry’s reaction with a readiness to run.
Henry laughs a little, bitterly, and looks up. “He’s not a real detective, Juliet. No matter how much I want him to be, or how much he insists he is.”
“Just because he’s not on the force, it doesn’t mean he’s not a detective.”
“It might as well.”
“... You should be proud of your son, Henry. He’s helped solved a lot of cases we’d have had to let go cold without him.”
“I am proud.” He says it quickly, defensively- but not inauthentically. It occurs to Jules that this is the first time she’s heard Henry declade Pride in Shawn, in all seven years she’s known them both. “I am. Just not of his methods.”
“... Well, um, thank you, for the food, and-and the information.” Jules stands up. She’s starting to form a new theory about why Shawn hides his skills. “Do me a favor and, don’t tell Shawn about this? I just don’t want him to feel weird that I’m, well… investigating him.”
Henry shrugs and pretends to zip his mouth and throw away the key.
“Thanks.” She gives him a smile that has to be forced out, and leaves.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Well I bet you can’t quote every line from The Breakfast Club without looking it up.” They’re playing a game of low-stakes wagers while they make baked mac ‘n cheese for dinner, and Shawn is losing badly- mostly because he’s only making bets that have Jules showing off her best skills.
Shawn looks at her, genuinely offended, before it smooths out into acceptance. “You’re right, I can’t. Not unless I’m given a big buzzing button, to replace the slurs.”
Jules nods. “Fair. How about you just point to me and I’ll make the noise for you?”
“Now that is a plan.”
She feels bad about tricking him again. She does. But she watches him run through the whole movie script, doing the dances, dramatically flailing around the room- and she sees something she’d been completely overlooking for years.
She laughs as he finishes it off, sweating and panting but grinning at her. “How do you remember all of that but the other day you couldn’t tell me if you’d even locked the front door?”
Well I remember important things, Jules.”
“Home security is important, Shawn.”
“When you’re not a detective dating a psychic, maybe.”
“Ha-ha. I’d still rather not come home from a date to our TV missing.”
“... True. Fair. I’ll work on it.”
“Seriously though, Shawn, sometimes your memory makes no sense to me. Do you think ADHD medication would help with some of the… little details?”
“Uh, no.” Shawn shakes his head. “No can do, tried it once and swore it off forever.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it uh… stuff filtered in but didn’t filter out, you know? Like Gus at a buffet.”
“Gross.”
“It was, it was gross. Both the meds and the buffet.”
“I can’t imagine. It would be awful, just… being unable to stop things sticking around in your head.” She watches him from the corner of her eye as she pulls the dish out of the oven.
Shawn’s posture tenses a little. His mouth parts and the tip of his tongue comes to touch the middle of his top lip. He shrugs, and nods. “Yeah. What a-” he interrupts himself with a chuckle that Jules can only tell is bitter and nervous because of how long she’s known him. “What a sucky thing that’d be!”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Shawn, this is too much,” Jules says as he leads her, his hands covering her eyes, somewhere for a date.
“Are you kidding? You saved my life on this case, again, and you totally prevented a huge disaster with getting the detonator away from that guy.”
“And you are the one who noticed he had a detonator in the first place.”
“The spirits noticed, Jules. But I will take credit for this.” He moves his hands away from her eyes, and she gasps.
They’re in some kind of outdoor dining area, an archway of flowering vines set up above a table covered with a floral cloth and light-blue chinaware. As Shawn comes around to her line of vision she sees he’d hidden a nice suit under his usual jacket when he first told her he had a surprise planned, and his tie…
“Shawn, are you recreating the play?” It had been a particularly great date, for a variety of reasons- but mostly, because Shawn had actually managed to sit down, watch the play, and not turn it into a criminal investigation. He’d still kept up a running commentary and restless fidgeting of course- Jules would have been worried if he hadn’t- but otherwise it had been proof to her that he could take this seriously.
“Maybe.” He offers her his hand and leads her to the table.
“Shawn, these plates are exactly like the ones from the date scene, how did you-”
“I may or may not have, solved a little case for the owner of the theatre and taken payment in the form of old props.”
Jules laughs, picking up the menu on the table. “Is this the actual menus too, then?”
“Unfortunately, no, but I think Gus- I mean, I, recreated them pretty well.”
“Mmm. Let me guess, you ‘managed’ the recreation, and Gus did the work on it?”
“I also turned on the printer.”
“Basically did the whole thing yourself.” She looks over the menu again- it had been held up briefly during the play, a larger version of it shown on a projection screen behind the actors, and she wouldn’t have remembered it if asked before this moment but now, seeing the recreation, she’s almost certain it’s exact.
It had been on stage for maybe one minute, maybe less.
“How did you even remember this?”
“Psychic recreation, Jules. I traveled back to the past in ethereal form. Your future self was there too- clearly, my gifts rub off on you fifty years from now.”
She laughs again, softer. He’s lying of course- he likes to lie for the humor, and the fun, and because no-one can truly call him out on his powers because even he doesn’t understand them as he often admits. But it feels different now.
He’s not lying entirely for fun. Partly for fun, sure- but he remembered the play, he remembered the menu, because he has an eidetic memory and can’t forget things and in the days since she spoke with Henry to confirm it that fact has been haunting her.
She has trouble sleeping some nights- it’s gotten better since Shawn moved in, having someone curled around her making sleep feel safer- because of the things she’s seen, experienced, endured. She still has nightmares about the clocktower, about sitting in a hospital bed waiting to hear if she has Thornburg, about desperately hunting down clues to Shawn’s whereabouts with Gus and having no idea if they’d even find him alive by the end. The images, the emotions, the sounds… they all stick with her, forgotten until the moment they strike.
What is that like for someone with Shawn’s memory? If her memories push in unwanted, what about his? The looks into the distance, the glaze over his eyes right before he reveals something, the visceral reactions when he remembers something he doesn’t like- it breaks her heart now, knowing that at least some of those are because his mind shoves near-perfect flashbacks at him.
And with observation, she’s realized that it’s usually unwanted and not sought out- just like his visions. It’s hard to tell them apart from the outside, which just makes her even more concerned- does he even know the difference most of the time? Does it affect all of his thoughts, his imagination, the way he fills in blanks? Is that why sometimes his “visions” are so wrong, because he’s so used to them working the same way as the rest of his mind that he can’t tell what’s Him and what’s The Spirits?
“Hey.” She’s jolted out of her spiraling thoughts by Shawn reaching across the table and taking her hand. “Are you okay?”
She plasters on a smile. “Fine. Just- thinking about how lucky we are. To be here, after everything we’ve gone through.”
Shawn smiles back and pats her hand once before withdrawing his. “Lucky, or just awesome and unstoppable as a team? You, me, Gus, sometimes Lassie- we’re literally a dream team.”
“We are.” She tries to push her concerns about her boyfriend out of her mind, ordering food from a waiter wearing a costume clearly not sized for him- Shawn is always making seemingly impossible things happen, and Jules has no idea how he roped a real restaurant into this, aside from it being either a favor or a blackmail- but Shawn doesn’t blackmail people as far as she’s ever known, so probably a favor.
Shawn is impossible. More and more so every day. And the most impossible is his contradictions. She watches him fumble with his napkin, and remembers him leveling a gun with a steady confident hand on more than one occasion during a case. She listens to him recount a completely wrong story that she keeps correcting the details of, and looks at the perfect recreation of a scene from a play they saw once, months and months ago. She watches him exclaim in surprise over realizing the plates have a design of playing labradoodles at the edges, and thinks about how he saw the reeds moving in a different direction than the wind was blowing from almost impossibly far away to pick up on such a detail.
“Shawn.” She sets her fork down and interrupts his gushing about how cute the design of one of the puppies on the plate is. “I need to tell you something.”
His smiles drops, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ shape, eyes alight with panic.
“I’m not breaking up with you.” The quick assurance makes Shawn sigh and slump in relief. “And-and I want you to know before I say this that I’m not doubting you either, or your psychic abilities.”
The tension in Shawn returns. “What?”
Jules bites her lower lip. “I just… can’t pretend not to know anymore, Shawn. Because it’s been just… awful watching you do everything you can to pretend you’re not intelligent.”
“... Jules, I-I don’t-”
“I talked to your dad.” She immediately wishes she’d started with anything else, the way Shawn shuts down and clams up. “No, that’s not what I- Shawn, I know you have an eidetic memory, and that you’re probably hyperobservant, on top of being psychic.”
Shawn’s mouth is tightly pursed, eyes searching, body language just withdrawn. Jules plows forwards, swallowing thickly.
“I’ve been seeing it since you moved in. You’re so smart, Shawn, and-and your detective skills are amazing. One night you solved a case in your sleep, and you mumbled the whole thing, and I was just blown away by how you were able to come to those conclusions and connect those dots.”
Shawn looks down, briefly licking his lips. “Chief Vick never asked you to review the detective’s exam, did she?”
“... No. And, you just proved my point. You made that connection so fast, Shawn.”
Shawn shrugs. “What-what is this? Why right now? On our date?”
“Because I love you.” She reaches over, pries his hands away from his sides and holds them. “And I want to understand why. Why do you pretend you’re not one of the best detectives I’ve ever seen? Your psychic visions are one thing, Shawn, but your skills… they’re genuinely incredible.”
Shawn won’t look her in the eye, traveling his sharp gaze around anything else around them. “You know me. I just uh, love putting on a show.”
“That’s what your dad said.” She feels his hands tense in hers. “But I don’t believe either of you. Well, I believe that’s part of it, but not the full thing. … Your dad said you’ve never really embraced it.”
“Of course he did.”
“But you do, embrace it. You do every day. I watch you get completely antsy and out of your mind without a case, and I used to think it was because you were just… chaotic, and-and bored, and maybe some kind of psychic restlessness but it’s not, right? It’s because you need to be able to solve something. Because you like being smart and solving cases, but you don’t like people knowing. Why?”
“Jules…”
“I’m not asking you to bring me in on your process, or to admit to anyone else when you solve instead of divine. I’m just… trying to understand you, Shawn, because I want us to work. And for us, this, to last… we have to know each other, and I feel like I’m just learning about you all over again.”
Shawn is silent for a moment, and then takes a deep breath and meets her eyes, reluctantly. “Gus knows,” he admits. “You probably figured that, but, he does.”
Jules nods.
“Did my dad… talk about uh…”
“... He mentioned he trained you since you were young.”
“... Yeah. … I don’t know how to, uh…”
She waits. He seems… lost.
“... I learned how to properly stalk a perp through a hideout before I learned how people get sick from each other,” he says. Jules blinks in confusion until he continues, “I learned most things about being a cop before I learned everything else. And it wasn’t… he’s not proud of me, you know? When I was a kid I wanted to be just like him, and I couldn’t be, and he was disappointed in me. Eight years old, I could close my eyes and tell you the clothes anyone in the room was wearing, could tell you who was married and who wasn’t, how… how many hats, were in the room, and it didn’t matter. It was…” He scoffs. “Adequate. That’s it.”
Jules rubs her thumb along the back of his hand. “You got bitter about it.”
“Bitter’s a strong word.” It’s not- it’s just right. It’s in his voice, his eyes, his posture. But he doesn’t like these words, she knows that about him. He doesn’t like these words and these feelings, and he likes to pretend they don’t exist, and he doesn’t experience them. And how hadn’t she realized that was a problem before now? How had that just settled in her perception of him without setting off alarms that maybe something wasn’t okay?
“Shawn, you’re more than adequate. Your dad said so himself, he told me he is proud of you.”
“... He-he did?” The genuine surprise, it makes Jules’s heart shatter all over again.
“And more importantly, we’re all proud of you. Me, Gus, Carlton is even if he won’t admit it either- The Chief, she’s so proud of you and the work you do! Even when you mess it up or cause major problems, she still defends you and knows you do good work.”
Shawn’s mouth finally untightens, slightly, one corner twitching up for a brief smile. But it fades all too quick.
“What’s the rest of the reason, Shawn? It can’t just be because your dad didn’t give you the credit you deserved. You’ve been doing this for years.”
“Well, like I said Jules, it’s not as fun. You know? You-you solve something psychically and everyone is in awe! Throw in some jokes, make a scene, plus the bad guys always seem to confess way faster when they think I divined certain things, it’s just better!”
“You could do the same with your deductions! I mean it, Shawn, they’re amazing, the way you solved that case with the hit-and-run was incredible. I don’t even know how you came up with the magnets.”
He puts a finger by his temple and gives her a somewhat prodding, questioning look. She frowns at him and raises an eyebrow, and he puts his hand back down with a defeated nod.
“... I don’t want to be my dad.” Shawn shrugs. “I don’t want to be my dad, and as amazing as he is I don’t want to be Gus, and I don’t want to be Lassie, or even-even some… ideal, me. I want to be… me, Jules.”
“I’m not asking you to not be you.”
“Not on purpose, but- this is me, Jules, this is who I am. I can’t live my life with everyone expecting me to remember everything completely perfectly no matter what, or asking me about every little detail of everything all the time, or saying I should know things or be smarter than what I did or-or have to be better than that-”
It’s like when the last piece of a case finally fits into place.
“Oh.” Jules squeezes his hand, and he cuts himself off to look at her with pinched brows and still parted lips. “Shawn… that kind of pressure is insane to put on a child. I’m so sorry.”
He blinks, frozen, and Jules stands up to come to his side and kiss his forehead. She crouches down by his chair. “You, are more than a detective,” she assures. “You are funny, and fun, and sometimes you’re so stupid and reckless that it literally hurts to watch, but that doesn’t mean that what you do right doesn’t matter. You don’t have to match your stupidity to your intelligence just to balance them out.”
“That’s not what I do.”
“Isn’t it? … Oh, my god, and after-after Yin you started going more overboard-”
“Jules-”
“-because he called you out and you had to hide even more-”
“Jules.” She looks into Shawn’s eyes and they’re… glassy. Red. Watering.
“You, being good at what you do, did not put me in danger,” she says softly, reaching up to brush her thumb over his cheek. “You being intelligent will not push me away, or change what I expect of you, or make you lose anyone you care about. But it might make us lose you, if you keep trying to bury it and compensate for it.”
“... I-I…”
“You know you’ve gone too far the opposite direction a lot these last few years, don’t you?”
He’s silent.
“... I understand these feelings run very deep, and all the back to your childhood. I understand that you probably resent what made your dad tain you just as much as you resent him and his training.”
“I don’t resent-”
“Shawn.”
“... I’m… working on not resenting him. Especially after he got shot.”
“I know. But you’re not working on how you feel about yourself because of him, are you?”
“... This is… very uncomfortable.”
“I know.” She wipes away an escaped tear. “You don’t like people being able to really know you, do you?”
“I like you knowing me. And Gus.”
“Do you? Because I had to figure all of this out on my own. Shawn, are you so used to hiding what you could be to be what you want to that you don’t even know how not to hide anymore?”
He flounders, opening and moving his mouth with no words, looking at the ground to her side. “I-I don’t know,” he finally gets out.
Jules nods. “And that’s okay.” Has he ever heard that before, in response to him not knowing something? Maybe. She won’t know unless they keep talking about this. She hopes they keep talking about this.
“... But you uh…” He presses his wrist, sleeves pulled down and gripped in his palm, to his nose for just a second, and sniffs. “You’re not saying you don’t believe I’m psychic anymore?”
“No, I’m not.”
He nods. “... You know, uh… Lassie is the whole reason I even got started, on the psychic detective thing.”
“Really?”
“Really. We still have this uh, table and everything for a few more hours, if you want to hear the story.”
She recognizes it for what it is. You know now, I’m uncomfortable with it, but I’ll try to not be, for you. So she sits back in her seat and listens to Shawn describe how he figured out a case through watching the news, and when Lassie didn’t believe him about it he claimed it was a psychic vision, and then he realized that works.
It recontextualizes even more things for Jules, even more of what Shawn must feel and think, and she wonders if she’ll ever fully figure him out.
She’ll just have to spend her entire life with him, she supposes.
#I'm not super happy with the ending but I can't make anything else work any better so. Ah well.#psych#psychusa#psych usa#psych 2006#shules#fanfic#my attempts at fanfic
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A/n: This was initially supposed to be the beginning of a longer fic but I ended up changing the plot a bit and this little thing doesn't fit in there anymore. So there's basically no plot here, just 3 bff's minding their own business when one of them decides to ask for a hickey :) you know, like all friends do.
Warnings: there's no smut, but I still wouldn't be comfortable with anyone underage reading it, so 18+ PLS. Also they're just friends but there's a hyunjin x reader x felix type of thing implied... idk... I love them both too much :/ (highly unedited, don't look at me, I just want it out of my drafts thank you) 1.4k
"Ok, I know this is gonna sound stupid, but bear with me for a second?" Hyunjin said, breaking the 10 minutes of silence that followed yours and Felix's relentless complaints about work and the last minute tasks you had been given. Once that topic had been exhausted, you each settled in a corner of your queen sized bed, entrapped by your phones. That was until Hyunjin spoke up.
"Yeah, what is it?" Felix answered but Hyunjin waited until he had your attention too before continuing.
"Can one of you give me a hickey?"
Felix didn't even bother trying to answer, confusion just fell upon his features as he stared ahead, then at Hyunjin, who didn't even bat an eye, and then at you.
"Um?" you frowned, "Can you elaborate?"
"There are these girls at work that like me, I mean I think they do, and I've basically done everything to tell them I'm not interested but like… they don't get the hint, and they're very sweet, so I don't wanna be rude to them.. I figured this would be the best idea"
"You figured this would be the best idea?" Felix deadpanned.
"Yeah… they never walked up to me and told me they like me, so what kind of entitled asshole would I be if I just went to them and said 'Hey, I get that you're obsessed with me but I'm not interested'?"
Felix just blinked. "First of all, obsessed is a little bit too much, don't you think?"
"I agree. That's why I want a hickey"
"Just say you have a girlfriend"
"But I don't" Hyunjin shook his head, "That would be a lie. A hickey is just a hickey, and it'll make them assume I have someone"
"Or you could just talk to them" Felix tried again.
"Or you could just shut up and give me a hickey"
"I've never given anyone a hickey, I'm not doing it"
"I can do it" you offered, much to Felix's disappointment. It seemed that for whatever reason he assumed you'd be the rational one, but if anything, you understood very well what it was like to want to avoid difficult conversations.
"Thank you!" Hyunjin exclaimed.
"Come here"
"What? Now!?"
"What? Do you need to get ready? Need a moment of silence?"
"Um, no?" Hyunjin shily mumbled as Felix laughed in the background, "I just didn't expect you to do it now"
"We can do it later"
"No, no, no. Now is good"
"Ok, lay down" you instructed and shuffled closer to him.
"Oh my god" Hyunjin chuckled as he let his weight fall back onto his shoulders while you straddled his hips. He watched you tuck your hair behind your ears and lick your lips, which made nervous giggles break past his lips as he threw his head back. "This feels so professional"
"Yes, y/n, the hickey master" you mocked and grabbed his hands, one forceful pull later and he was down flat on his back against the mattress. "Tell me if it hurts"
"I've gotten hickeys in the past, it wasn't that bad"
"Yeah because you were turned on and it was sexy. Now that's not the case"
"Hey, you're sexy" he grinned which made you slap his face away so you wouldn't have to see his eyes anymore.
"Oh god, I need to see this" Felix giggled and crawled closer, settling right next to you and directly above Hyunjin.
"You're breathing right into my face"
Felix wasn't having it, so he just smiled down at his friend. "You like it"
"Idiot"
With your lips inches away from Hyunjin's exposed neck, you found yourself struggling to find a starting point. Something felt off, a bit unnatural, and it made your ears tingle. "Ok, this is weird, but I don't know how to give hickeys without kissing too, so-"
"Kiss me, I don't mind"
"You're willing to make this sacrifice, huh?" Felix teased.
"Ok, but tell me if this starts to feel awkward, ok?"
"Y/n, you're both basically on top of me, one about to bite me and the other one looking at me like I'm a science experiment, awkward doesn't even begin to explain it"
"I'm sorry" you laughed, and despite the hurricane of thoughts that rushed through your brain at that exact moment, you shook your head one last time and finally closed the distance between the two of you.
Doing this robotically and by the book was never going to cut it, no matter how much experience you had and how many techniques you knew. So putting your faith into Hyunjin to tell you in case you went too far, you decided to do this right.
With your back arched and your body fully pressed against his, you snaked one hand up into hair, curling your fingers up around his roots as your lips started working on his still intact skin.
The kisses that initially started off as gentle and soft, turned fervid in a matter of seconds, your lips mercilessly sucking his perfect skin, morphing his light complexion into a perverse shade of red.
Unconsciously, as you worked on the hickey on his neck, the hand that had been previously lightly tugging at his roots traveled down, gripping his chin and caressing its way down to his shoulders.
Completely lost in the taste and feel of your best friend's skin, you failed to register the unnatural feeling of his hands on your thighs. You knew they were there, you felt their warmth down to your bones, but it never occurred to you that that had never happened before. So you let yourself get driven by his touch and refused to show any signs of slowing down as his curious hands made their way to your hips and then to your ass.
Fully engrossed by everything that was going on at once, you failed to notice the way Hyunjin was panting beneath you - his chest heaving up and down as his shaky, hot breath ran against your ear.
Once you figured you had him warmed up enough, you gave his neck the last bit of preparation which came in the shape of you licking up his jugular before you returned to your initial spot and sunk your teeth into his skin with no warning.
"Holy f-" he grunted, more than surely involuntarily bucking his hips up into you as his fingers dug into your hips.
But it didn't deter you, you kept going - sucking, biting and licking all the right spots, keeping a steady pace until you felt satisfied with your work.
"Ok-" you said a bit out of breath before returning to pepper his traumatized skin with feather light kisses, "I think this should do it"
When you pushed yourself up to admire your work, Hyunjin hurried to hide his face behind his hands. "Oh my god"
"Was it good?" you grinned, placing your hands on his waist, ready to tickle a compliment out of him in case you needed to.
"I need a minute," he panted.
Deciding to give him the space he said he needed, your eyes moved to Felix. Despite not uttering one word, his face said a lot, his red cheeks, wide eyes and shy smile were enough to get the message across.
Instantly, you opened your arms calling for a hug, but he just mirrored you and welcomed you when you finally crawled over to him. He gathered you close against his chest and pulled you down, the two of you now tightly wrapped together next to a still speechless Hyunjin.
"Was that awkward for you?" you whispered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck from the sudden wave of embarrassment that washed over you.
"No, don't worry, it wasn't awkward-" he assured you with a kiss on the top of your head. "It was a… good tutorial"
"I still find it shocking that you've never given a hickey before"
"I think the reason for that is because I always hated receiving them," Felix confessed, which prompted Hyunjin to come back from the dead, one long pointer finger up in the air.
"That's because you've never gotten one from her"
"Ok" Felix laughed, "Can we stop with the hickeys? I feel like I'm high-school all over again. Adults don't have hickeys"
"No," you corrected, "Adults don't have hickeys in places others can see. Except that one" you pointed to Hyunjin.
"You're just jealous"
"Of what? The hickey I gave you?"
"I don't know" Hyunjin gave up with a sigh and lazily rolled off the bed, "I'm gonna have a shower"
"Have fun!" you both laughed and then settled back into a tighter cuddle once the room fell into silence again.
What is this abrupt ending? Idk either, I'm sorry 😖
#hyunjin x reader#skz imagines#hyunjin imagines#felix x reader#felix imagines#stray kids drabbles#stray kids x reader#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin x reader
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Annapolis
Season Two Episode Nine
Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)
Words: 4574
Series Masterlist
Summary: Based on season four episode 24. Y/N breaks protocol when Spencer is infected with a deadly virus.
Notes: Like usual, I’m going to be using some scenes from the episode (Amplification) and making some up for the story. I know that this definitely isn’t super realistic and that Y/N would definitely just be arrested or something, but it’s all *for the plot.*
-
You focused on the twirl of your spoon in the mug while several expectant gazes wore you down from across the table. The spring morning filled the air with a slight breeze, but you felt heat rise in your face under the three agent’s stares.
“What?” You asked innocently.
Emily raised a brow, JJ gave you a knowing smile, and Penelope looked ready to burst.
You took a sip of your coffee. “Have I mentioned how much I hate profilers?”
“It’s not our fault that loverboy has a terrible poker face,” Emily said.
Penelope beamed. “He’s been over the moon for weeks now and I can think of one specific reason that would make him act that way.”
You blushed, shaking your head but couldn’t hide your smile.
“So you are back together!” Penelope squealed, earning a few glances from other cafe patrons.
“We’re still figuring things out,” you said. You held your coffee in your hands, letting the warmth meet your palms as you rolled it back and forth nervously. “It’s not as simple as it used to be.”
“You love him. He loves you. That seems pretty simple to me,” she said. JJ and Emily gave her a look. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t been heartbroken for them for the past six months.”
“Y/N’s right,” JJ said. “Things like this aren’t easy in a relationship. It takes time.”
Emily nodded in agreement, though Penelope couldn’t stop grinning at you. You decided to throw her a little bit of a bone, so to speak.
“We started reading again, which has been nice,” you started. You felt a little like a schoolgirl describing her first date, but maybe a little juvenile lightness was what you all needed. “Sherlock Holmes. I think it helps us sleep better.”
“Does this mean you’re moving back in?” Emily wondered.
“And miss out on sleeping on my brother’s air mattress? Why would I ever do that?” You snarked.
She chuckled. “Fair enough.”
“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Penelope gushed. “I love love.”
“Speaking of which, enough about me,” you said. “What about you and Kevin?”
While she went into an excited ramble about her boyfriend not moving across seas on a new job, the final member of your coffee date- and your sometimes roommate- walked up to the table.
“Sorry I’m late,” Haley grimaced. “I had to take Jack to school and the parking lot there is a nightmare.”
“Oh my god, that reminds me,” JJ said, turning to you. “How is Hotch? He went for a bit of a spin on our last case.”
You rolled your eyes. “He’s fine. Or at least that’s what he says every time I ask, which I wouldn’t have to do if he didn’t use his SVU as a battering ram.”
“He does have a knack for head injuries, doesn’t he?” Haley laughed.
“Good thing he has a thick skull,” Emily teased.
“Har har.” You took another drink of coffee. “All I’m saying is that I would love to go one week without one of you guys doing something stupidly heroic and almost dying.”
JJ laughed, shaking her head. “Good luck with that.”
-
Whatever light mood was left from that morning quickly evaporated as the team stood around the table, a container of pills in each hand. They didn’t even know if the Cipro would be effective. A new strain, Dr. Kimura said. Men in military uniforms bustled around the bullpen.
The weight of what was going on settled into everyone’s minds.
“This is really happening?” Prentiss uttered.
Hotch nodded. “We knew this could happen,” he said gravely. “We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it.” He dumped the pills into his mouth.
Rossi held up his cup.
“Jin dan,” he toasted. “May you live a hundred years.”
The rest of the team took the medicine and tried not to imagine what would happen if it didn’t work. With their assignments in mind, everyone started to disperse, but Reid stayed toward the back. Dr. Kimura gave him a grim nod as she left with the others. He hid the fear that was clouding his mind.
He pulled Hotch aside as they walked out.
“Y/N has an interview with an inmate awaiting trial at JRDC,” he whispered. “That’s in Annapolis.”
Hotch swallowed. “I know.”
“And you don’t think we should tell her not to go?” Reid exclaimed.
“We can’t.”
“We have no idea where the unsub will strike next. What if she goes out for lunch in a crowded area and-”
“Reid.” Hotch stared at him intensely. “We can’t. The media blackout order means nobody can know. If this gets out, people will panic.”
He knew he was right. Reid wanted to remain detached and logical, but all he could think about was the image of the woman he loved choking on her own blood.
“I’m just getting her back, Hotch,” he pleaded. “I can’t risk losing her again.”
Hotch put a hand on his shoulder. “Then we focus on solving this as quickly as possible.” He hid his own terror behind a mask. Inside, he was just as worried as the younger agent and wanted nothing more than to tell Y/N not to leave the apartment. He wanted to call Haley and tell her to pick up Jack from school. He wanted to protect his team from the danger they were facing. But he couldn’t. “Now let’s get started.”
While Hotch stayed at the office-turned-base of operations, Reid went with Dr. Kimura to speak with the surviving victims of the attack in the park. All the while, both had you in the back of their mind.
Unaware of the situation, you drove into Annapolis with Sir Arthur Conan Doyal in your head. Spencer’s voice reading the words of the brilliant detective made you smile. The sun streamed into your windows and traffic couldn't even seem to bother you. It was a perfect morning.
You were about to pull into the Jennifer Road Detention Center parking lot when your phone rang. It was Sonia.
“Hey, I know you’ve already driven out, but I just got a call from the warden. Apparently, Sergio Marks got into a fight this morning and is in critical condition,” she explained.
“You’re kidding,” you sighed. “And here I was looking forward to being stuck in a room with an accused wife killer.”
Despite your sarcasm, you were actually kind of bummed to miss out on the interview. With Marks’ court date coming up, you’d been hoping to compare his behavior before and during the trial.
“I’ll head back then,” you said. “I’ve got some other cases I can look into today.”
“The other studies can wait,” Sonia said. “Why don’t you take the day off?” Before you could argue, she continued. “You’ve been working like a dog ever since you got back. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You don’t have to prove anything to me, sweetie. You could spend some time with that cute FBI boyfriend of yours.”
“I think they’re on a case,” you laughed.
“Then take some time to just breathe, honey. I know Maryland isn’t exactly a vacation spot, but I’m sure you’ll find something there. I heard there’s a nice bookstore in town,” she said. “Your work will be here when you get back.”
“I guess I can go shopping or something,” you shrugged. She was right. Annapolis wasn’t a big city, but you should be able to find something to entertain yourself. Besides, you’d probably just go home and worry about the BAU while they were on whatever case they had now.
“I’ll sort things out with Marks. Have a nice time.” Sonia hung up, leaving you with the rest of the day to relax.
-
Prentiss stood amongst the bustle of people, staring into the bookstore as the men in hazmat suits closed the blinds. If they found evidence of the virus, it was proof that the bookstore was the site of the unsub’s test run.
The victims had died within three hours of being admitted to the hospital.
Morgan hung up the phone with JJ. Prentiss looked at all of the civilians surrounding them.
“Look at all these people just going about their lives,” she said. “If they only knew what we were doing here.”
Morgan scowled. “It’s better that they don’t.” He said something else, but Prentiss couldn’t hear him. Her scanning eyes settled on a familiar face across the street.
“Oh my god,” she muttered. “Is that Y/N?”
Morgan turned his head just as you noticed them. To both of their dread, you crossed the street, a beaming smile spread across your face.
“Hey strangers,” you greeted, seeming more chipper than Derek had seen you in a while. “What are you guys doing here?” From their serious expressions, it only took you a moment to understand. “Oh.”
“Why are you here?” Derek asked.
“I was going to look at some books, but the store owner apparently got really sick and died a few days ago…” You trailed off, making more connections in your mind. “Is that why the team is here?”
The two exchanged a look.
It didn’t take your degree in psychology to realize that they were scared.
“Derek, talk to me.”
They both seemed to receive a message through their earpieces. Derek pulled you aside, weary of the attention of bystanders picking up on the tension in your tone.
“Everything’s fine,” he said. “We just can’t talk about the case.”
The firmness in his tone and the tightness of his grip told you everything and nothing at the same time.
“Okay,” you nodded. Your eyes went to the bookstore behind him and it’s closed blinds. Something was going on. “Be careful, okay?”
“Always am.” He faked his usual smirk, hoping to calm you down.
“I guess I’ll see you back in D.C.” You smiled to convince him he had.
If you weren’t going to interview a murderer, then maybe you could figure out what the hell had two of the toughest people you knew terrified.
Whatever it was, no one would answer their phone. Aaron was radio silence and you hadn’t heard from Spencer since earlier in the morning. You checked the news every couple of minutes to see if anything had leaked, but all you could find was something about a park being shut down for methane in the sewers.
“That must be connected,” you muttered to yourself. You kept racking your brain for something that made sense. If it were a bomb threat, Derek and Emily wouldn't have just been standing around waiting for it to explode. A shooter, they probably wouldn’t have kept it under wraps as intensely as they were.
The only thing that you could think of was chemical or biowarfare. If someone was going after people with some kind of poisonous gas or airborne antigen, it might explain why everything had to be kept such a secret. And the government could have called in the BAU to help them find who was responsible before they struck again.
You tried your brother again, but there was still no answer. Something was definitely wrong.
“If no one is going to help me,” you said, pulling up to the library, “then I am going to help myself.”
-
Morgan and Reid observed the house with an uneasy air between them. It looked so normal, but inside more agents and scientists were tirelessly searching for traces of the disease or mediums to transport it. So far, they hadn’t turned up anything.
“This guy just had people over for a charity event last month,” Morgan noted. Something about all of this felt off. Too simple.
“We should probably take a look around anyway,” Reid said.
The two agents started down the driveway to the other side of the house. So focused on the matter at hand, Reid caught his hand on a rose bush along the path. The thorn scratched the back of his hand, creating a gash he chose to ignore.
“So Y/N’s in the area,” Morgan said grimly. “Prentiss and I saw her when we were checking out the bookstore.” He shook his head, eyebrow quirked in a mildly impressed expression. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she figures all this out even with the media blackout.”
“She’s taught a course on bio-terrorism, so I’m sure she’ll pick up on something,” Reid shrugged. He’d been trying not to think about you and had been unsuccessful. Just knowing you could get caught up in all this made it hard to focus on anything else. But Hotch was right. The sooner this was solved, the sooner you’d be out of harm’s way. “But the higher-ups seem to have this pretty locked down. I’m sure she’s just going about her day like any other.”
Morgan eyed him. “Right.”
The older agent’s phone rang and he answered, listening as Prentiss told him what they’d figured out at the lab.
Reid continued on through the garden, jumping as a sprinkler spouted to life. The sound of the water covered whatever Morgan was saying. The sliding door to the garden led into what he quickly recognized as Dr. Nichols’ office. From there, he saw two things and processed them in the same thought.
The first was the body of Dr. Lawrence Nichols. A large head wound and a pool of drying blood signaled that the scientist had been dead for a while.
The second was a broken vial spilling white powder onto the floor.
“Reid?” Morgan called after him.
He didn’t think of anything after that. He just rushed to the door and slid it closed just as Morgan caught up with him.
“Morgan get back,” he exclaimed. “Get back!”
“What are you doing?”
“Get out of here. Believe me. Get back.” All he could think about was keeping Morgan away from the substance he was sure had already infected himself.
“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked, panic rising in his tone. “Reid, open the door.”
Reid just looked at him, locking the door with eyes that betrayed his distress. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked with the toppling realization of what this really meant.
He breathed in the substance. He contracted this new, terrifying strand of anthrax.
He was going to die.
No. Reid ran a shaking hand down his face. He could figure this out. There had to be a cure. He could do this.
“I’m calling Hotch,” Morgan said, pacing hurriedly in front of the glass.
“I’ll be fine,” Reid lied. “I have all of Nichols’ notes. I can find the cure.”
“We’re getting you to the hospital.”
Reid shook his head. “You need to get away. I don’t know if any of the powder got into the air.”
“I’m not going anywhere-”
“Morgan, now!” The firmness in the younger agent’s voice took Morgan by surprise.
He moved out to the garden, making sure Reid was still in view, and made the call.
By the time Hotch and the others arrived, Reid had made up his mind. And, despite Morgan’s protests, their unit chief agreed that the best thing for Reid to do was to work to find the cure somewhere in the lab.
Until a car pulled up across the street, having followed the sirens after spending most of the afternoon researching locals in the library.
You spotted the dark hair and neat suit as you came up the sidewalk. People in hazmat suits hurried in and out of the house your brother stood in front of. He bore a similar expression to what you’d seen on the other BAU members earlier, only now Morgan looked even worse standing beside him.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry this is a restricted area.” A man in uniform stepped in front of you.
“I know them,” you muttered, trying to look over his shoulder.
He grabbed your arm. “If you won’t leave voluntarily, I’ll have to remove you.”
“What’s going on?”
“Ma’am-”
“Aaron!”
Your brother’s head whipped around at the sound of his name and his expression went from controlled worry to a furious glare in no time.
“Okay so this is bad,” you said to yourself.
“I’m going to have to take you back to your car,” the man in uniform sighed, starting to pull you away.
“Get off of me.” You tried to yank away, but his grip was firm. “Aaron! See, I know them.”
The man kept pulling you backward until another voice shouted at him.
“Hey, let her go!” Agent Morgan ordered, darting across the lawn over to you.
Aaron walked slowly, but you could tell by the tension in his movements that he was anything but calm.
“Y/N, what the hell are you doing here?” Derek snapped.
“I knew something was wrong so I did some digging and then I followed the sirens,” you said, still trying to free your arm from the soldier. “What the hell is going on?”
“I told her she had to leave-” The soldier tried pulling again.
Derek put a hand on his arm. “I said let her go.”
The man hesitated, but eventually released you and went to join one of his superiors.
“This clearly isn’t a normal case,” you said, crossing your arms. “What’s happening?”
“If I could tell you, I would have, but you really can’t be here.” His jaw tensed and his eyes flicked down to the necklace you always wore. A locket in the shape of a book. The present you’d gotten from Spencer.
A shock of icy fear rushed through you. “Derek, where’s Spence?”
“You can’t be here.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s inside,” Aaron said. From the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, you knew.
“This is Dr. Lawrence Nichols’ house,” you said.
“Yes.”
“He wrote studies on anthrax.”
Aaron sighed. “Yes.”
“How did you know that?” Derek asked.
“You're not the only ones who know how to investigate something,” you said. You pushed past them, following the trail of panicked people in hazmat suits around the house, just where you could see a glass door.
Aaron caught you before you could get any closer.
“I have to see him.” You fought against his arms as they locked around you. “Let me go, Aaron.”
“We don’t know if there are still traces of the substance outside of the lab. Even if it’s sealed we can’t-”
“I don’t care. I can’t just leave him in there. Do you know what this will do to his body? I’ve studied anthrax, Aaron. I can’t just… I can’t…”
“The best thing you can do for Reid is let him work.” Your brother turned you around, keeping his hands on your arms so you couldn’t get away. “He’ll find the cure and he’ll be fine.”
“If you believed that, you wouldn’t still be here, waiting for him to die,” you snapped.
Aaron swallowed, closed his eyes, and didn’t say anything else.
“Keep an eye on her,” he told Derek. “We still have to find the apprentice.”
He stormed off and Derek gave you a look that said he’d stop you before you even thought of taking another step.
Inside, Spencer held his cell phone with a trembling hand and coughed in between his words.
On the other end, a saddened voice greeted him, lacking her usual pep.
“Hey, Reid.”
“Reid, wow,” he teased. “No witty Garcia greeting for me?”
Garcia grimaced, trying to laugh for him. “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.”
He took a deep breath. While part of his brain was scrambling to figure out where Nichols might have the cure that could save him, the other side was plaguing his thoughts of who he was leaving behind.
What would happen to his mom? How many times would the nurses have to tell her that her only son was dead before her brain allowed her to realize it? And even if she did, how long before she would forget and have to go through the grief all over again?
And then there was Y/N.
Just when things started looking better…
“Garcia,” he said, holding back a fit of coughing, “do you think you could do something for me?”
-
You didn’t know how long you sat there, waiting to hear whether or not the area had been cleared. Derek stayed with you and you explained how you figured out what was going on.
“You scare me sometimes, you know that?” He teased.
He was on and off the phone. You could tell it was with Spence by the way Derek’s eyes kept slipping over to you as he talked. But telling Spencer you were there before they figured anything out would only distract him. At least, that’s what Derek kept telling you.
After a while, Dr. Kimura called Derek back and said he could talk to Spencer. Despite your protests, he told you to wait and so you stood back while he went inside. You could hear Spencer’s voice, but your brain wouldn’t focus on what they were saying. You just wished you could hold him again.
His coughing may as well have been a flatline in your ears.
“Go help Hotch,” he told Derek.
Spencer stood with his arms at his side as he was sprayed down. His hair hung limply around his face and his purple shirt now clung to his chest.
Morgan shook his head. “Hotch has plenty of people helping him.
“He needs you more than I do.”
“Reid, I’m gonna see you off to the hospital.” Derek caught you in the corner of his eye, stepping closer to the doorway.
“I’m about to get naked,” Spencer said, leveling an irritated stare on the other agent’s face. “So they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?”
Derek looked from you to Spencer to Dr. Kimura. He waved his hand, motioning for you to come in.
“Can she stay with him?”
Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“Who is this?” Kimura asked. “Is she another member of your team?”
Derek scoffed, giving you a small smirk. “She may as well be.” He nodded at the scientist. “Take care of him.”
He hurried off, patting your back as he went.
Your eyes didn’t leave Spencer. In other circumstances, you might have laughed. He looked like a wet puppy with his dripping hair and soaked clothes. But another cough escaped his lips and his hazel stare burned into you.
“What are you doing here?” He asked again.
“Would you believe me if I said I was in the neighborhood?”
“This isn’t funny. You can’t be here,” he said. “Protocol aside, do you have any idea how dangerous this situation is?” His shoulders jerked with another cough. He unbuttoned his shirt and kicked off his shoes.
“I don’t care how many rules I’m breaking, I’m not leaving you.” You held up a hand. “I’m safer here than out there waiting for this guy to strike again.”
His frown deepened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably, hands reaching for his belt.
“Can you…?” He trailed off.
“Oh,” you blinked. “Right. Yeah.” You turned away, listening to the water against his now bear skin.
He felt ridiculous, being self-conscious now when you’d seen him without his clothes on plenty of times. But this felt different. He’d let himself fall into this problem and somehow, shielding you from seeing him this way, seeing him so weak, made it easier in his head. He could face it as long as you didn’t have to.
Dr. Kimura allowed you to ride with them to the hospital as long as you stayed out of the way. But now, seeing him in the hospital shirt with sweat glistening on his forehead, you knew you couldn’t just sit there.
“Is there anything I can do?” You begged.
“We’re going to test Nichols’ inhaler to see if he hid the cure there like Dr. Reid suggested,” Dr. Kimura explained. She put a stethoscope to Spencer’s chest as he continued coughing. You didn’t need to have a medical degree to know he was getting worse. “How are you feeling Dr. Reid?”
“My throat’s a little dry.” He kept his eyes screwed shut, focusing on what he was saying. “But other than that I feel… fin. Feel fin.” He opened his eyes as nonsense fell from his lips. His brows furrowed in frustration while his irises widened with panic.
Your eyes scanned his shaking form, bile rising in your throat. He reached up for you. On his hand, you spotted the cut.
Not good. Definitely not good.
When he coughed this time, a trickle of blood dripped out of his mouth.
“Driver, faster,” Dr. Kimura ordered.
“Re-,” Spencer stammered, gripping your hand as tight as his muscles allowed. “Ret.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Reel. Rem. R-Read.” He used his other hand to point to his bag, left by Morgan when he took it out of the car.
You reached into it and retrieved the leather-bound volume you’d spent the last week reading together. It made your breath catch in your throat. You opened to the page he’d left off on the night before.
The Final Problem.
-
With your eyes trained on the page in front of you, the scene of Sherlock Holmes’s death struck a little too close for comfort.
What if this was it? What if you’d wasted all of the time you had left with him in these past few months?
Your hands shook. You wanted a drink.
Derek sat beside you, distracting himself with the hospital jello and a magazine.
You reached the end of the story, but the words caught in your throat, drowned out by threatening cries.
“...and if I have now been compelled to make a clear statement of his career it is due to those injudicious champions who have endeavored to clear his memory by attacks upon him whom I shall ever regard as the best and the wisest man whom I have ever known,” Spencer said groggily. His eyes peered open, landing on Morgan. “Are you eating Jell-O?”
You let out a sob of relief and restrained yourself from throwing your arms around him.
Derek smiled. “Hey doc, look who’s back,” he said to Dr. Kimura, who was speaking to another doctor in the doorway.
“Is there any more Jell-O?” Spence asked, his thoughts still hazy from waking up.
While Derek and the doctor informed Spencer of everything that had happened- including the recovery of the other victims thanks to him knowing where the cure was hidden- you just watched on with awe tightening in your chest, turning to regret.
You’d taken so much for granted and it took almost losing him to see it.
Spencer turned his head toward you, a small smile playing on his lips when he saw your face.
“I could hear you,” he said. “Reading, I mean.”
“You should have picked a happier story,” you teased through your tears.
He chuckled weakly. “Sorry.”
Derek ushered Dr. Kimura out, giving the two of you a little more privacy.
You leaned over, pressing your lips to Spencer’s forehead. “I’m sorry,” you cried.
Spence lifted a hand, wiping away your tears with all the energy he could muster.
“For what?”
Setting the book aside, you took his hand in yours.
“For not coming home sooner.”
-
The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt; hereforsmutbcicantgetenough; violetbossler; hyper-half-blood; i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48; @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird
#criminal minds#criminal minds imagines#dr. spencer reid x reader#derek morgan#aaron hotchner#jennifer jareau#emily prentiss#david rossi#dr. spencer reid#matthew gray gubler
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P&C | Ch. 2: Hey Flip Flops
➪ Playlist (Spotify) l Series Masterlist
6:30 a.m.
"Mira, Miraya, wake up!" I sigh as my body is awakened by the sound of my alarm clock and Jiah's voice.
"It's time already?" I whine, stretching my body for what seems like an hour. I can barely make out Jiah's words as they're interrupted by her yawns, but I'm pretty sure she said something about breakfast.
We quickly get ready. Check each other out for the 50th time, making sure we both look to die for because that's what boss ladies do, before finally heading out. It rained the night before so the air is extra crisp, which I love. Would rather have this than the 10-month winter season I had to endure back home.
Jiah was right, the knee-high boots definitely pulled the whole look together, we both look like two French girls. Talking about fashion, people in Korea (especially girls) know how to dress well. Everything, and I mean everything, from their hair down to their nails is polished and well put together. Mindblowing as back home I could be seen wearing the same Harvard sweater for 5 consecutive days, with absolutely no shame or will to change. So the fact that these boots are now in my possession should in itself cause a commotion, but for now, I'll settle for Jiah's reassurance and cute compliments.
Unfortunately, though, our little date had to pause as it was time to depart to our respective faculty buildings. See, Jiah is a Business major with a minor in accounting, aka money is basically going to follow her 24/7. While I'm majoring in Nursing, by choice mind you! I was going to go into Dietetics before realising that my eating habits are questionable at best, so I spared humanity this one (you're welcome). But now, if you see me in your local hospital in my cute scrubs but absolutely no clue what I'm doing, just mind your business.
Anywho, we said our goodbyes and wished each other luck. Fast forward to about five minutes, and there I was, standing in front of the building that will probably make me cry, scream, laugh, and all of the above throughout the next 4 years. Nonetheless, I have come this far right? The possibility of everything I worked for going down the drain is the only motivation I need right now to do my best.
--
As I walked out of my last class of the day, the sun was already beginning to set. To be honest, everything went pretty well, I mean as well as it could go on a syllabus day. My professors were all pretty chill except for one lady who intimidates the crap out of me for absolutely no reason. She has over 30 years of experience in this field and deals with new cohorts, which means she might be my supervisor. If that's the case I will have to pregame each clinical to not pass out in her presence.
I wanted to grab a quick coffee on my way back to the dorm when I felt my phone buzz.
Jiah: Heyy lovely, how are you? Have you eaten? Jimin invited us to a little get-together with his friends, so I'll pick you up at 7.
Mira: Hey babes, I'm great. How are you love? Sure, I'll let you know when I'm ready.
Oh my god, my first party. It's no big deal but my body has definitely become more tense. I mean I know literally no one else aside from Jiah. I haven't even met her boyfriend, barely know what he looks like. But, I trust her, so as long as I stick by her everything should be fine, right? I mean what's the worst that can happen?
I was so caught up in my thoughts which were abruptly interrupted by a body that slammed past me as I tried to open the front door of the dormitory. Ouch. I didn't have time to check who it was but they also made no effort in checking if I was okay. Looking back all I could see was a tall guy with a black hoodie who seemed to be in a rush. Jeez, people these days are just something else I swear. Whatever, I thought, maybe they were having a rough day. Nonetheless, I straightened up and made my way up to my dorm, trying to forget whatever that was as I had bigger things to think about.
--
Knock Knock Knock
"Miraya, open up, I'm here!" I could hear Jiah's screams from my bedroom as I tried to quickly unlock the door. One hand on the doorknob, the other on my dress strap. As the door swung open, Jiah was left in absolute awe.
"Sheesh, miss girl who allowed you to look this good?" she exclaimed, coming in for a tight hug.
"Girl, look at you! Screw your boyfriend and come live with me," we both giggled, knowing dam well that we both looked quite good. I mean go big or go home right?
"I'm almost done, I swear. But please, can you help me with this strap? It unclipped and I almost lost my mind, I don't know why this dress requires 10 people to assemble, but hey, it looks good!" I joke as Jiah quickly clasps the dress back into its position.
"Hey, what's this? Are you okay?"
"What?" I ask, as she walks me to a mirror and points to a bruise on my forearm.
"Oh, yeah, so silly. This guy bumped into me as I was trying to get into the building today. But, it's no big deal. It doesn't hurt." I assure her, letting out a small chuckle.
"Are you sure? Next time you see him let me know, I'll run straight into him." she urges with pure determination on her face. I can't help but smile, reaching out and going in for a hug. We talk about our day for a little while until finally leaving the dorm.
--
"So, this party? Who else is going to be there?" I quietly ask as we make our way down to the elevators.
"Oh, just, my boyfriend, his friends, and some other people from this dormitory," Jiah responds with a smile, as she presses the Basement floor.
While my nerves were somewhat calm during our elevator ride, they sure as hell were not once the doors opened and I saw the amount of people just at the entrance. My eyes were wide open as I gave Jiah a quick glance, she looked back with a mischievous yet nervous smile.
"Come on Mira, let's have fun. Let loose!" she exclaimed, pulling my arm towards the entrance. There was no time to answer or to protest so I had no other choice but to follow her into a huge studio room with disco lights and music blasting from each corner. Small gathering.
"Baby!" Jiah screamed, as her hold on my hand loosened and she ran to a boy in a black cap. Jimin. Well, at least, now I know what he looks like. It was cute watching them reunite. They have definitely missed each other, from the way their bodies melt into one another and their eyes lock.
"Miraya, come here let me introduce you to everyone," Jiah waves for me to come closer as I can now clearly see the faces of the other guys surrounding Jimin. Oh my god, no.
"Oh, hey flip flops!" Tae scrunches his nose as he waves at my yet again flushed face. I dare not to look up, hoping that if I can't see them then they won't be able to see me.
"Flip flops?" Jimin and Jiah both ask, letting out a chuckle at the funny nickname.
"Yeah, it was so funny because when we first met I was at the elevator and she ran ..."
"Ok, that's enough thank you for your input but really, it's not that serious. Um so Jimin, how was your vacation" I quickly try to change the subject before Tae sends me into another nervous breakdown. Everyone just smiles and looks at Jimin, while Tae laughs at my quick remark.
"Yeah, I mean it was honestly so nice, the boys and I went to Bora Bora. Heaven on Earth! Babe, next time, we should all go," he says looking at Jiah who has snuggled into his embrace.
"Oh by the way this is Jungkook, we drove all night yesterday from Busan, so excuse his appearance." Jimin smiles, pulling on Jungkook's hoodie to come forward and introduce himself. The poor guy seems absolutely drained but manages to let out a tiny hello with a nod. Something about him seems familiar but I can't tell what exactly.
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#bts#bangtan#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x yn#bts x yn#jungkook fanfic#fanfic#jungkook smut#romance#young love#college love#slow burn#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x female reader#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook imagine
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Worlds Change When Eyes Meet - Joseph Quinn x Reader, Part 3
Ok so it’s safe to admit I had half of this part written last night on my laptop, so I threw the rest together tonight. I know I keep saying it, but I’m so overwhelmed by the love. Thank you ALL so much! Here’s part 3!
Tag Requests: @sadbitchfangirl
Summary: It’s time for the London & Film Comic Con, you’re surprising your niece for her birthday by taking her to meet & greet with Joseph Quinn. It doesn’t turn out to be just a meet. Is this love at first sight for you both? Or is it all just some stupid crush.
Warnings: some angst, mild smut and the worst fluff you can possibly imagine, sorry our boys just too sickeningly cute
Word Count: 4.6k
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
You sit up suddenly in the middle of the night, your chest heaving violently. A nightmare, one that makes everything feel so god damn real. You wipe the sweat off of your forehead, clenching your face into your quilt. The nightmare was of course, him. How could he be involved in such a horrible thing? It will of definitely had something to do with the day before, the craziness that happened so quickly. You turn to tap your phone at the side of you, revealing '4:17am'. No notifications, just an update required for your phone. No. Dozens of thoughts running across your brain. What time is it in America? Has Joe landed there yet? Has he gotten there safely? Does he really want you after all of that? Of course he does, right? You settle back down, staring at the dark, empty ceiling. You don't want to return back to your sleepless state just in case he calls, just in case he messages. Counting sheep is the worst idea, so you just ponder your thoughts. Dangerous, yes. What if he's really done with you before it even started?
You must have fallen asleep at some point, you wake to the sound of chirping birds and sunlight beaming down through your window, poking you in the eye ever so slightly. Turning over, again tapping your phone. Nothing. Nothing at all. It's now 9:00am. Your heart drops, your stomach once filled with butterflies is purely empty. He's gone and it hits you. You sob like a baby. Crying into your pillow, staining them with your tears. "I miss you." you whisper lightly to your phone, staring silently at the picture of you and Joe on the screen.
A couple of days have passed, all you have done is mope around the house in your own filth. You've still not heard a thing from Joe. In what world is this okay? You've now become angry. The feeling of upset is still there but there's more a broken and gut wrenching sensation going on in your body. How could he have never called or even messaged you to at least tell you he's okay? All of these stupid questions which lead to stupid thoughts and pointless answers roam your mind. All of a sudden, your phone buzzes. Oh. It's your sister, you decide to answer anyway. "Y/N? Are you alright? Haven't heard from you in days... what's going on?" you sigh which also appears to be a silent scream. "Yeah, I-I think so. I have some stuff I need to talk to you about." She sounds curious and determined to find out yet worried in the same breath. "Okay... I'm ready when you are." she waits. You spill everything, right from the beginning to your first meeting with him at Comic Con, to your photographs, to your niece and him teasing you on the brick wall outside. To you giving him your number. To the texts, sparing no detail of what was said. To the private date or whatever you could call it at your place, to going out for dinner and dancing with Joe on the balcony of his apartment. To the sweet endless nothings and kisses you were given. To the fans you saw going mad about you right to the very finish of him disappearing to America and you walking out on him.
She was speechless, it was safe to say. "Well, uh, bloody hell Y/N, I never expected that, so you haven't heard from him since?" You shake your head, not like she can see you. "No... He didn't reply to my voicemail, which I sent whilst he was on the plane. What do I do? It's not as if I can go and find him right? He mentioned the state he's going to but it's a big place sis, not like the UK." she let out a giggle. Now's not the time for laughter, you're pouring your heart out to your sister and all she can do is laugh at your misfortune, bitch. "Go and find him, you idiot. Surely you can get in touch with someone he knows? Has he mentioned anyone... at all?" You sigh again, you're doing a lot of that lately. "No. I'll wait till he's back, I'll show up at his place and I'll get an answer then. I've waited all my life to find a man like him, I can wait a few weeks, surely..." the call ends abruptly when your sister's husband shouts her down for dinner. "Gotta go, keep yourself busy and things will work themselves out."
You do as you said, you wait. You get yourself back into a routine. Back to your 9-5 job, the one you love to hate. You visit your sister and your niece every now and then. Go out with your friends. Do all of the stuff you did before you met Joe. You start to forget the heartbreak after 3 weeks, he's made no attempt to contact you in anyway. You've seen photos and videos of him all over TikTok which you ultimately hate to see. Knowing he's okay and safe is the only positive thing that runs through your mind when you see them. The other thought is sticking your middle finger at your phone but then feeling guilty after because he is pretty fucking adorable.
A month has passed. It's a wild Friday night, you're exhausted from the week at work and you lay on your sofa with a bowl of popcorn, ready for the weekend. Your phone buzzes. You ignore it whilst you aimlessly scroll through Netflix. You find a rom-com you've seen multiple handfuls of times. Your phone buzzes again. "Oh what do you want now, sis." You fully expected it to be her, she's done a lot of worrying about you this last few weeks. You yell an unintelligible sound out loud as you lean to your phone. You freeze as you read the name 'Joe'. He's calling you. You answer and stay as silent as possible, dragging the phone to your ear.
"Hello?" You say nothing.
"Y/N, are you there?"
You sigh yet another heavy sigh.
"I-I'm back home. I got your voicemail when I landed. I messaged you a million times, why haven't you been answering? I thought you wanted to talk..." his voice was so low and so grew with concern.
You furrow your brow. "You got my voicemail Joe; you never messaged me once. Don't sound too disheartened."
"Are you at home?" You nod. Why are you such a moron, these people can't see your movement through the phone. "Yeah."
He hangs up unexpectedly. What. The. Fuck? You try calling him back, no answer. You call him again, no answer. You throw your phone in anger to the other side of the room which knocks to your wall and falls on the floor. You throw your cushion onto your face and squeal into it. You decide to go for a shower, the movie can play, you're not in the mood to watch people fall in love anyway. Stepping out of the shower and drying yourself off. You hear banging at the door. Not just a knock, a loud bang. You slowly step out into the living room and open slowly, the chain attached to the door so it won't open fully. There he stands, wet through from the vile weather outside. It's really him, it's Joe. "Let me in please, love. Can we please talk?" you clutch to your towel wrapped around you. "There's nothing to talk about, Joe. You never messaged me, you didn't even care to call, you just fucking hung up on me. I had to endure seeing you through a fucking social media app with your precious fans." He looks to the floor, not taking his eyes off of it, not raising his voice but staying calm, cool and collected as he always seems to be. "5 minutes of your time, please. Then if you want me to, I will leave, I promise."
You unlatch the chain and step to the side, gesturing him to come through. He sits down immediately on your sofa, taking in every inch of you stood there in your towel with your sodden hair, similar to his from the rain. "I did message you, several times Y/N." He begins. "My phone wouldn't connect to any of the UK numbers in my phone. I couldn't do a thing about it, I was panicking the whole time because I couldn't reach you. I am so sorry. The hanging up was a sudden move, I decided I needed to come here to show you... Here, please look if you don't believe me." He offers you his phone already opened to your messages and there they are. A months worth of messages, unsent, undelivered and unread. A single tear drops down from you and your lips tremble. He really did try his best. "I missed you so much and there was nothing I could do about it. I hate the way we left it, I regret leaving the day I did, I wish I'd told my agent to stuff it when he called that day. The way I saw it break your heart - that was never my intention..." He stands and moves closer to you, at least 6 inches to your face when you push your phone back to his chest. He takes it and throws it back to the sofa, not taking his eyes off of you in the process. Your now swollen eyes stare into his longing dark brown doe eyes, searching into his soul for where this is going next. You say nothing but your eyes tell the whole story. You want him, you need him, who are you even trying to fool? You whole heartedly believe him and what he's shown you. Joe swallows hard, obviously fighting back the tears himself. "Meeting you was the best thing to happen to me in a while, princess. I-I don't want to lose what we've started, I want to give you everything and only make you happy. Your smile is so precious to me. I love every part of you, even your stubbornness... I..." You gesture a finger at him and run into your bedroom, throwing on whatever clothing you could find. Settling for a long-oversized jumper. You dart back out to the same position you were stood in before. "You..." you move your hand at him to continue. "I... don't want to know a world without you anymore, love. That's all."
You squeal like an excited child in your head. What is this hold he has on you? He only so much has to look at you and you're on your knees. You throw your arms around him, lifting up onto your tip toes. You kiss him and you mean it, you return every word he's just said and more into this one, long kiss. He cradles your back as you try to move away and he just pushes his lips down harder onto yours. You're a sucker for this man. "I... I... I didn't... expect... this..." He speaks through your kiss, it just forces you to smile and kiss deeper. He lifts you up as you straddle your legs around his waist, not breaking any contact with each other. He walks to the sofa with you in his arms, laying you down and slowly laying himself half down on top of you, still refusing to break his lips from yours. The kiss gets more heated and more passionate by the second, his hands gripping your jaw, stroking one of your cheeks as your hands run through his wet curls. He moves down to your jawline where his hand was, kissing slowly, moving down to your neck, sucking but kissing ever so lightly and sweetly until a moan hitches from your lips. He's found the sweet spot on your neck. He continues to kiss and roll his tongue over it, he knows it's driving you insane. Your fingers grip his hair and he lets out a slight groan of his own, the vibrations of the sound rolling down your skin, making goose bumps appear. He returns back to your lips, kissing them slower this time, more soft. Your thigh can feel the hardening bulge growing down below from his jeans and your brain is running 10 million times an hour more than normal. The butterflies have made a reappearance, as if none of this had ever happened.
He tugs at your jumper. "Get this off, I want to see you. All of you." He flutters his best puppy eyes at you. You do not say a word, but you grant his wish. You sit up and lift it over your head and lay back down, feeling his eyes burning all over you, slight embarrassment slips your cheeks as they blush but the grin on his face tells another story. "I knew you were a pretty face, but you are so god damn beautiful, princess, look at you." He removes his slowly drying shirt and moves back down onto you, kissing down your neck again and moving to your chest, kissing lightly around your collar bone and leaving feather touch kisses from his lips around your boobs. Your whole body is alive now. He kisses down your stomach and you squirm as it starts to tickle. "I love how worked up you're getting, and I haven't even done anything." He smirks right at you, this time not his normal happy little face. He's showing a whole different emotion right now, one you've never seen before. He kisses down your waist to your thighs, not wasting a cell of your skin before reaching himself back up to you, taking off his jeans and boxers in a flash and lowers himself down and into you slowly with no word of warning. You need no help; you're already wet through. Your back arches, the rest is a blur. You make love. Not sex. You make full, passionate steaming hot love. The ending is bittersweet but mind blowing.
Before you know it, you're both laying there side by side staring right into each other's eyes. He holds your hand to his chest with one hand, whilst playing with your hair with the other. "Please, let's never repeat the last few weeks again." he loses his smile for a slight second. He releases your hand and sticks out his pinkie finger. "Pinkie promise me princess, I know there'll be disagreements and let's say... heated discussions but, never that again you hear me? I'm not willing to almost lose you again" You giggle as you wrap your pinkie finger around his. "Never again Mr. Quinn, pinkie promise." He looks down at the fingers hugging each other tightly, you see him biting his bottom lip, he fucking loves it when you call him by his last name. You let go and resume your position. "It's you and me, love. I'm not waiting any longer, I'm not taking anymore chances in waiting. Be mine - for real Y/N. Please say yes." You can't even breathe at this point, your heart is exploding. "Well..." he waits for your answer for a few seconds but feels like an eternity as he imitates a cog turning in your head. "Yes. A million times yes." You are not letting this man go for anything or anyone this time, nothing can stop you now. Rough patches are bound to happen, but you know if you can get through waiting a whole month for this man whilst anger and heartbreak has fell through you, you can get through anything. The feelings have flooded back and just like that, you're his. You're his girl, for real.
The morning light seeps through your curtains and hits you square in the eyes. Slowly opening them to the strong beams of sun, a whole different scene to the violent rain bashing on the windows the night before. It was like a change in mood - the irony of it fitting yours in a way. You turn your head to gaze on the beautiful man by your side, a light sigh leaving your mouth as you realise how real this was again all of a sudden. You retrace your thoughts to last nights antics, the pain had quickly turned into long needing lust, and you had done the deed at least 3 times to which after you both passed out from utter heights of excitement and exhaustion. The endgame was that you were his and he was yours, there was no going back now. You stroked your hand along Joe's cheek down to his jawline, tracing your finger down, a widespread grin on your face. Joe kept his eyes closed but his face leaned into your touch as you saw a mirrored grin appear on his. "Good morning handsome." you whisper. He shakes his head and mumbles a distorted sound. "It's not morning if I don't open my eyes, therefore I can stay here in this moment longer." You chuckle lightly and with that, he pulls you to him, your face smothered in his chest. Oh that smell, his smell, it's phenomenal. You can hear his heart beating, you can feel his hands as they wrap into your hair whilst his fingers play with it. "I guess this means you're not going anywhere, love." he lets out a hearty giggle as your head reels, you could be content with this being your life forever. You lift yourself to his face and his eyes are still closed but his smile is beaming as though. You plant a firm peck onto his lips and Joe instantly welcomes it. "Mmm, do that again." he murmurs against you - his eyes open slowly making a beeline straight to look into yours. You obey, kissing him and lingering against him as your teeth go to bite his bottom lip. "Didn't you get enough of me last night Y/N?" he knows what he's doing, fishing for those god damn compliments. "Never Mr Quinn, I could never get enough of you." He flashes his Oscar worthy winning smile at you and can't help but crash his lips back onto yours, a slow, sleepy kiss turns into a hot, passionate one. Your tongues collide with each other, groans escape both of you, the feeling of your bodies close made the temperature of the cool room sore. The god damn effect this man had on you was insane, you were ready for him and him for you, there was no place you'd rather be.
Showering quickly and leaving Joe to his own devices, you walk out into the living space and into the kitchen to find him working his way round it. The smell of bacon hits your nostrils and the sight of the man cooking and humming a song to himself from the radio so contently. You stand there for a couple of minutes admiring the extremely pleasant view, even if it was just the back of him. "You sure know your way round here." He turns around startled and shrugs his shoulders. "It's only small, love. The stuff wasn't hard to find." A wink returns your way as he turns around to continue. You make small paces until you reach the back of him, wrapping your arms around his torso and leaning your head onto his back. "Hello." he chuckles. "Hi." you reply.
You sit down to eat with a comfortable silence to eat when all of a sudden Joe's phone doesn't stop vibrating from the table. Three missed calls and a text message pop up one after another until he gives up and opens it. "I'll be back in a second." he mutters as he excuses himself to your bedroom. You didn't want to pry but you also felt hesitant in knowing who it was and what it could be about, after all the last time his phone blew up he left and you didn't hear from him for days on end. As much as you had forgiven him and accepted it was through no fault of his own, you couldn't go through the heartbreak of him being ripped from again, at least not straight away.
Shy of 15 minutes later he saunters back towards you with a slightly lopsided smile. "Everything ok?" you offer a reassuring smile back to him. "Yeah, just got to get going soon, got a last minute shoot at the other side of London. Must admit as much as I love my agent, he doesn't half get on my nerves with these spur of the moment ideas." Your eyes shoot down to scan both of your half eaten plates of food. "It's okay, I'll find something to occupy my time until I can see you again. Duty calls Joseph Quinn." He frowns at the full name. "It's Joe to you." You give him a sassy look and he finally loosens up and laughs. "Fine, Jo.....seph." He rolls his eyes and sits back on the chair, leaning back and patting his lap for you to sit, you happily oblige.
"I'll be back to you this evening ok?" he plants a kiss onto your forehead. "Okay love." He shakes his head. "Okay love." He imitates your voice mockingly.
You decide to fill your day with your sister and niece. Taking a shopping trip in central London. No conversation was made about Joe for the time being, but your sister could see your change in mood and that was enough to understand that things were better. When you sit down for a spot of lunch at a quaint little café you decide to check your phone. Joe had sent you a photo of himself sat on the floor in a seemingly plain building making a silly and utterly quite bored face. Underneath a text that read 'Hope you're having the best day, princess. Joseph has been really busy but Joe cannot wait to come back to see you again later.' Your cheeks redden at the play on his names, Joseph is the hardworking, amazing actor people have fallen in love with, the one you met at Comic Con, but Joe - Joe is your person. Your niece glances at your phone and her eyes widen excitedly. "Eddie, oh my god, Eddie and you text!" Your sister's brow furrows. "Who's Eddie, hon?" your niece rolls her eyes. "Eddie Munson mummy, the one Y/N and me met and they flirted with each other there lots of times." Your sister glanced up to you and her mouth changed into an O shape. "Oh, that Eddie." You nod as you lean against the table putting your hand over your mouth. "Everything ok with him?" she muttered quietly. You nodded again as you felt your cheeks flushing. "More than ok." You return your sisters grin. She knew you were happy, that's all she needed. "When will I see Eddie again now that you two are basically married Y/N?" you and your sister barked a laugh at your nieces question. "I'll bring him to see you soon." Her whole face scrunched into the biggest and frightening smile you'd ever seen. "So does that mean you're on good terms since you want him to meet the family?" your sister was intrigued now. You could only nod, you solidified a promise that your niece would indefinitely see Joe again and your sister would get to meet him. Your phone rings as you're about to leave the café.
"Hello."
"Hello, love, I'm just finishing up, turns out they didn't need many - I'm just that good. What are you up too?"
Your sisters gaze falls on you and she can see the blush in your cheeks turning crimson red at a fast-paced speed from his smug yet innocent voice.
"Just out with my sister and niece, we've just had lunch at this cute little place."
"The same niece I met at Comic Con?"
"One in the same." You look down at her smiling.
"I'll not keep you then, I'll see you later beautiful, be at yours round 6pm. Find out blankets, pillows and I'll bring the snacks and wine."
"Can't wait, love."
Your sister and niece pull the exact same expression. "Since when do you call people, love?" your sister chortles at your embarrassed yet accomplished face. "Since Joe."
You spent the rest of your day laughing and spending. Getting home and dropping your purchases into your bedroom, you light candles and dim the lights whilst you place a few pillows and blankets onto your sofa, a make shift bed. You change into your comfy clothes, leaving your hair in a messy bun, nothing to the imagination - but nevertheless Joe could make you feel beautiful wearing only a potato sack. As if on queue, 6pm has arrived and no later than 6:01pm does a knock come from your front door. You skip happily like a child, unlatch the door and open to find him on the other side. One hand holding a bag filled with a bottle of wine and pastries and a bunch of 10 blooming red roses clutched in the other. You swoon your side, your head is going ten to the dozen as your eyes gleam at Joe. "Good evening Miss, I brought you the goods." he mimicked a overly posh accent as he lifted the bag in the air. "Oh Sir, you're too kind." You take the bag from him and go over to the kitchen and place it on the counter top. "And those?" you point at the flowers. "An apology for missing you for days on end whilst I was overseas and a thank you for forgiving me." You tut loudly at him, shaking your head though the beaming grin has not left your face. "Are you just going to buy me flowers every time you mess up?" He nodded. "Pretty much." You both chuckled at one another as you took the roses to put them into some water. "Now come here, I missed you and you look so god damn inviting." Your eyes grew wide as he pointed and ran to the sofa, flopping onto the blankets that were once neat. "Charming one you, Mr Quinn." He patted the space next to him. "You look good too Y/N." he smirked.
You happily complied to his gesture and leaped onto him instead of falling next to him. "Jokes aside, I definitely missed you, princess." Your faces were close as for a few seconds you stared so intently at each other, lips inches apart, bodies closed in on one another, legs intertwined in and round the blankets. "I missed you too, Joe, way more than I probably should have." You settle down, blowing the candles out but leaving the lights dimmed after a few hefty make out sessions, a bottle of wine, empty plates but sincerely full hearts. Laid to the side of Joe with his arms wrapped around you as your leg cocks over his. You feel hands rubbing down your back, Joe's face also matching your tired state, you knew in a short moment that this, right here was all you could ever want.
You were just about to drop off to sleep, not hearing anything from Joe for at least half an hour when you heard him mumble your name. "Y/N." You snuggled deeper into him, not saying a word. You didn't respond, he was just clearly in a trance, and you were in no less of a ready state for the sleep to take you away after feeling heavily fulfilled with your day. If it was something, you'd wait to find out - that was at least until he managed to say as clear as day; "I love you, I really do.”
#eddie munson#eddiemunson#josephquinn#strangerthings#munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#joseph quinn fanfiction#joequinn#joseph quinn fic#joe quinn fanfic#joseph quinn#joe quinn#joe quinn x reader#joesph quinn#joseph quinn character#joseph quinn fluff#joseph quinn imagine#joseph quinn smut#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn x you#joe quinn x you#joe quinn smut#joe quinn x y/n#chocolate button eyes#eddie the freak munson#joseph quinn stranger things#eddie munson fandom#eddie fanfic#eddie munson headcanons
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YOUR WIP SNIPPET I’M GONNA FALL DOWN!!!
Kenta sitting there and waiting with Kim is so cute to me, Kim’s “are you fucking kidding me” look is HILARIOUS, and oh my god Kenta just tell him you want him to grab you by the collar.
That’s a really good point, especially when it comes to their relationship with Kim. It’s easier to accept someone’s flaws when it’s not you they’ve hurt, and when they didn’t target you specifically. Like how long does it take Kim to process what he went through? Does he have dreams about Winner standing over his body? There’s a level of physical trust that has to be built up from below zero. Winner went out of his way to beat on Kim when he was down (and maybe part of him was bitter that Kim hadn’t embraced him as a teammate, and angry that the person who always turned him into a kicked puppy was so easily reduced to nothing, like “You’re supposed to be better than this. Get up,” kind of complicated, misplaced, nasty feelings).
Another thing I’ve been thinking about in regards to guilt and penance is Kenta and Dean’s relationship, and the way Kenta pushed Dean down the wrong path? I don’t think Dean would particularly blame him—it was his own choice (unless it turns out that Kenta knew Charlie’s death was gonna be faked and let Dean take the fall for it. In which case there would be a lot of anger, since Dean was already upset about being blamed for something he didn’t do).
But I think Kenta would probably blame himself (when does he not), since Dean would never have done anything if Kenta hadn’t suggested it, if Kenta hadn’t seen him as a set of dominoes ready to topple over. I think it’s something they’d probably fight about and would tie into Dean’s issues with wanting Kenta’s respect.
Oh yes Winner you are such a martyr it is sooo terrible to have to sit there and watch all of that glorious action; whatever would they do without you? 😆
Oh Dean. He’s never not gonna make me hurt. I am NOT ready to talk about him and Alan again ahdjfjfja it is so tragic!!!
How DO they all get together SHFJFJF THAT’S SUCH A GOOD POINT. It’s honestly probably very messy and convoluted, given all of their histories and Winner’s resistance to even caring about anyone. I think things would happen between some of them more easily than others. I will think some thoughts on this.
I am. Not Optimistic about all four of them surviving. LOL. 😬😬😬 But I am prepared to fully ignore some things that happen and and live in canon divergent land ahdjfkfj. I had the SAME thought about Dean, like oh at least he’s safe behind bars! (The episode may have aired by the time this gets posted so I may already be in “lalala ignoring this” land”)
(WINNERDEAN FIC!!!! 🥺🥺🥺)
WAY HAS A CAR DEALERSHIP AS A SIDE HUSTLE 😭😭😭 Winner at least podiums during the races, so maybe he gets a modest amount of winnings? Idk how racing works BUT I do think he has family money. Like he absolutely has those entitled vibes, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes from a racing family as well.
THE SAME GYM, THE SAME LOCKER ROOM, AND THE SAME BAR. Like I know the city is not that small, why are they always up each other’s asses hmmm (homo reasons)
I just keep imagining all the ways it would go down. it's so dependant for me on how well Kim and Kenta knew each other BEFORE. did they meet that singular time Tony came to watch a race? or was Kenta doing like, personal assistant type stuff and helping Kim get settled in? I can't get past the look they share as Kim is taken away it's SO charged and speaks to a bit of an established relationship (of any sort). but yes Kim should grab Kenta by the collar. both of his shirt and the one Kim's gonna give him.
oof I feel like we haven't discussed Kim's trauma from being held captive and beaten up at all, how have we missed this!! it's definitely the way Winner went about it, bitter and vindictive exactly as you say. like when we first meet Winner and Kim in the gym they're aligned together but very quickly Kim is like "um no" - we see him very much against Winner employing dirty tricks but he's also aggressively not on team Winner before that even. if only we had gotten a handful more scenes of Red Racing before everything kicked off! the guys in the garage Winner's drinking with seem to support him, so he's not the worst all the time. but yes to everything you said! there is a huge gulf between where they have to come from to where we most often place them all together. I guess that's the more difficult part of their story and not half as fun to discuss as them all navigating an actual relationship lol.
wasn't it Kenta who sabotaged Babe's car the other time? he got caught on the cameras but literally only by Kim, who's locked up at the time Charlie's car gets sabotaged. couldn't he just. do it again?and also HOW did Kenta know to go to Dean for that? (my headcanon is Winner introducing Dean to Tony as a like, here's a guy who could be on our team kinda thing. like someone had to know to exploit Dean.) anyway YES. Kenta would blame himself and him taking all the blame of it is taking away Dean's agency. because he DID make that choice - he didn't think it was going to kill Charlie but it was always a risk, car racing is not the safest sport at the best of times. it would tie in very well with the age-related respect issues; Kenta reducing Dean's role in it all is akin to treating him like a child, like he doesn't know enough to know what he did was bad. so far Dean's the only one who's faced actual consequences for his actions!
honestly I can see it starting with any permutation of the four of them lol. I often default to it happening WinnerDean + KimKenta -> all four (after various mixing of three of them) - probably the only way I can't see it happening first is WinnerKenta lol. although that would be the most toxic way to kick of this toxic polycule.
Winner is the one I'm most nervous about since he's a true villain in the piece but I'm Very Concerned about a Kenta self-sacrifice play. but yeah I will be joining you in canon-divergent land if anything actually happens to these four. BEYOND what already has lmao we gotta get Dean out of jail.
(SOMEONE has to write winnerdean fic we are starving. I gotta stop using all my words and energy on these asks lmao but I'm having so much fun)
we have now discussed rich kid Winner in our third simultaneously occurring pit babe-related conversation on this website lmao. at some point in the near future I am gonna go through and collect all the exchanges we have had and put them all together.
FOR REALLL though, x hunter seems to despise Winner yet at no point was anyone like "should we go somewhere he won't be?" of course not. surely I am not the only one who believes one of the reasons Winner hates Babe is because he got rejected by him.
#asks#pit babe#pit babe polycule#I have chronic fatigue which is why I say it's using my words and energy#PLEASE do not take that as a suggestion to stop blessing me with these asks#anyway I am about to go to bed and when I wake up pit babe will be over 😭😭😭#I'M NOT READY
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NCIS LA Season 14 Countdown, Day 6
A/N: Despite some faults, there are many possible episodes I could have chosen for season 9. I considered Silo, and the final two episodes, however, I’ve written for those quite a bit. In the end, I went with “Where Everybody Knows Your Name”, which I’ve always loved for the final scene.
***
It’s Ours
“Congrats, Deeks. I’m happy for you,” Sam said, offering Deeks a one-armed hug as he headed for the door with the rest of the group. The bar was littered with a collection of bottles—Eric had run out to the nearest store for a pack of Modelo—and everyone was in a fairly good mood.
“Thanks, man.”
“Just get better beer because I am not drinking whatever that crap is again.”
“I still don’t think it was that bad,” Callen insisted with a shrug. “Sure, it was a little musty at first-”
“I think the word you’re looking for is skunky,” Nell inserted.
“But after a couple sips, it’s tolerable.”
“It’s official, you have no tastebuds,” Hidodko decided. “Remind me not to have you pick out where we eat.” She gave a full body shudder. “Like I put a dead rat in my mouth.”
“Don’t worry, we’re throwing out the rest of that stuff tonight,” Kensi assured them with an exaggerated expression.
“Let us know if you need any help with renovations,” Eric offered as they went through another round of hugs before filing out. He gave Deeks a fist bump, automatically searching for Nell’s hand as they lingered for a couple more minutes.
“Thanks, Eric. We might take you up on that when it comes to the tech stuff. Cause I’m pretty sure it’s going to getting some of this up to par.”
“Absolutely. You just let me know.”
“And on that note, we’re going to bid you adieu,” Nell said, giving a theatrical bow. “We have, ahem, things to do at home.”
“As my lady wishes.” Eric offered her his elbow, and pushed the door open. Just in case they didn’t take the hint, Nell flashed them an exaggerated wink on her way out
Kensi closed and locked the door behind them, lips pressed together to hold back a laugh.
“Oh my god, she is so drunk,” she said with a snort.
“So drunk,” Deeks agreed, snagging Kensi hand as she made a move towards the messy bar. He slid his hands down her back, settling them on her waist. “I know I shouldn’t say this since we just left a funeral, but you look beautiful.”
“And you look very handsome.” Kensi brushed his hair back, caressing his cheek with the side of her thumb. He sighed, relishing her touch.
“I’m sorry.” Kensi’s eyes narrowed in a frown, and he elaborated, “I should have told you what I had planned tonight instead of springing this on you. It wasn’t fair.”
“Well, I wasn’t super supportive of the idea when you first mentioned it, so I get it,” she told him with a shrug. “Besides, it’s not like you actually bought a bar. Like you said, it’s just on loan so far.”
He tilted his head, chuckling softly. Sometimes he didn’t know what he did to deserve this amazing woman.
“Still, I should have given you a heads up. I promise to tell you next time before I make another harebrained decision.”
Kensi giggles, resting her forehead against his. She looped her arms around his neck, drifting closer.
“That sounds like a good plan. And I will try to be more supportive of your extracurricular activities in the future.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, kissing softly. “So, what do you really think of this place? And yes, I know it needs a ton of work before it’s even close to ready for customers.”
“I think…” Kensi paused, fiddling with the curls on his neck above his collar. “I think the community you want to build here is amazing. Even with the most disgusting beer in the world,” he rolled her eyes as she pulled another face. “Everyone still had an amazing time. I can’t believe that we are going to have a bar of our very own. And, I am so very, very proud of you.”
He was lost for words for a moment, and settled on kissing her instead. He poured all his gratitude and love into the gesture, gathering her against his chest.
“I love you so much,” he whispered.
***
A/N: I think this is our first team countdown fic. Rest In Peace Hidoko, and we still miss Eric and Nell.
#ncis la fanfiction#densi#marty deeks#kensi blye#Sam and Callen#Eric and Nell#Hidoko#ncis la season 14 countdown#team fic#where everybody knows your name#everybody’s happy for the minute#ejzah fanfiction
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Thess vs Big Weekend Plans
Yeah, okay, pushed it too far this week and now am attempting to decide what to do with myself. Tonight’s cookery extravaganza is going to be roast pork, mostly because all it involves is basically coating the rind in salt (for to make crackling, y’see) and shoving it in the oven. Thing is, I really did want to make potato soup today and now I’m looking at peeling and chopping and blending (because I have to make half-and-half, because they do not have that in this country) and fart-arseing around with the instant pot and going, “Oh, gods, do I have to?!?". And, I mean, technically I don’t have to. None of it’s going to go bad if I save this all for tomorrow. But the idea of settling down on the sofa with potato soup and Korean horror later on when the sun finally goes down is seriously enchanting. It’s just a shame that it all requires so much ... doing things.
Also, if I wait until tomorrow, it’s going to interfere with the marinading process for tandoori chicken, which I need to start first thing. This takes awhile, apparently, because it involves cooking some spices in oil, and then throwing yoghurt and lemon juice and stuff in it and then coating the chicken with that and letting it sit for about six hours. I’m also going to have to skin my chicken legs, but that’s okay - one recipe I’ve got (I don’t remember which, but it was somewhere in my “Ooh, yay, Japanese favourite” list) requires that one cooks chicken skins until all the chicken grease comes out, for to use in cooking. So as weird as this sounds, I am going to skin my chicken leg quarters and then throw the skins in the freezer for later use. Which is good because the reason I half-forgot that recipe was because I had a thing about “How am I supposed to just get random chicken skin?!?” and envisaged myself asking a butcher about that (which I guess I could probably do, especially if I went to Peckham, but my anxiety forbids that level of potential weird). I guess this is the other way of doing it.
On the subject of cooking, I had a flip through my new One Tin cookbooks, and ... okay, the first one’s more or less fine but the second is all kinds of fancy. There’s figs and pomegranate and parma ham and goat’s cheese and a whole bunch of stuff that I’m looking at like, “Well, I guess this never said anything about being on a budget...” Because this lady does not seem to have ever been in the same room as “budget”, given the ingredients. I should hand that one over to my mother. She’d probably appreciate it a lot more. My stepfather, on the other hand, probably not. Her last complaint in his direction was something about being frustrated that he insists on carbs - rice or potatoes or pasta - with every meal. Meanwhile I’m sitting there going, “I’m with my stepfather on this one”. At least in part because stuff like that is filling and tasty and, most of all, not that expensive in comparison to a lot of the vegetables that take the place of carbs in recipes like that. (Well, I mean, except for the pasta in my case, because gluten-free is always just made of expensive, but y’know.)
Basically there’s a lot to do this weekend. My tomato plants have grown like kudzu the last couple of weeks and it might be time to repot them soon. Honestly, same for my marigolds, asters, zinnia, and black-eyed Susans. The coriander’s not doing too shabby either, though I’m probably going to wait just a little longer - maybe another week - before I shove it into a larger pot and put it on the balcony rail. Honestly, the whole lot could probably wait another week, and might have to, because this weekend is about starting meal prep for the next little while. It’s just nice to have all the stuff I need in the fridge or freezer, ready for defrosting and/or reheating. I don’t think I could do gardening on top of that. Plus it’s better when the root structures of my plants are a little tighter; I don’t like cramping them, but I also find it’s easier to replant them when the roots are really well-established and keeping the soil in place. So another week won’t hurt, and I can do it when there’s less spoon energy required for cooking things.
Which means I should probably suck it up and start my potato soup. Get some use out of my gluten-free flour. Also clear some space in the potato bowl. Look, I had plans towards this soup and aloo gobi and Japanese curry and those all require a metric buttload of potatoes - literally, as a lot of the recipes I trip over are American and I keep having to go, “Okay, so how much is that in metric?” Seriously, I’m so glad people stopped talking about trying to make the UK go back to Imperial units becuase holy fuck would that get people confused. Base 10 is a good thing, guys.
...Oh fuck, Monday’s the May bank holiday. I was going to pick up my prescription on Monday and my local pharmacy, where I get my prescriptions, is generally speaking shut on bank holidays. But I do have enough to last me until I can pick it up on Tuesday, so that’s okay. Just aggravating because I was hoping to fit that trip in on Monday so I don’t have to go rushing down there either just before work or just after work on Tuesday. This is the problem with having Mondays off in perpetuity - you tend to forget things like bank holidays.
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It’s one of your ContestShipping anons ✨🌹 and just wanted to be like,,, look if you haven’t listened to the song “Stray Italian Greyhound” by Vienna Teng before 11/10 if you have a moment and want to have feelings I recommend it cause it gives me hardcore yearning Drew POV vibes like maybe Battle Frontier Era roughly,,, ?? Like the lyrics “God I just want to lay down These colors make my eyes hurt This feeling calls for everything that I am Not” and “I’m so good at shooting down any notion This tired world could change … but you had to come along didn’t you Rev up the crowd, rewrite the rule book Where do I go when every ‘no’ turns into ‘maybe’ So what do I do with this?” It gives him, it gives blorbo. It’s given me some writing Inspo for them which who knows if it’ll come of something but wanted to share in case it might make you also see shrimp colors. Thank you for running a cool blog for us for are feral for these nerds again
Oh my god, I am in love with this song. I had never heard it before, but you're SO RIGHT. It just SCREAMS Late AG Drew to me. It DEFINITELY gives me shrimp colors!!!!!
I have MANY favorite lines from this song after many listens. I took a few days to answer this because I REALLY wanted to take time to digest this song, to fully immerse myself in it and understand it, eespecially when given the context of our favorite green dude. Under cut because all of my anons just get essays at this point. I imagine that's what you're here for though!!! If you guys are anything like me, you'll read SO MANY WORDS worth of analysis and opinions on these two. Ok let's go!!!
The biggest lyric that hit me like a truck:
So what do I do with this?
This sudden burst of sunlight, and me with my umbrella
cross-indexing every weatherman's report
I was ready for the downslide but not for spring to well up
OKAY. So, the biggest thing about this to me is this: Spring and Fall. May and Drew's japanese names reference spring and fall, respectively- May, a warm sunshiney prescence and Drew, a chilly autumn breeze bringing in rain with his umbrella (but under the chilly surface sits gorgeous autumnal leaves!). And obviously, this lyric reflects the spring to his autumn, spring that he didn't account for. (I have a theory on Harley and Solidad being summer and winter or vice versa, but this isn't about them and I'm still working on it).
The next set of lyrics that got me was this one.
I've just settled into the glass half empty, made myself at home
I think this lyric fits because Drew is someone who is very comfortable within his own walls, something I reference quite often with him. He puts up walls and they are very difficult to knock down- he settles into this guarded aloofness, this careful, precarious arrogance. Which fits the above quite well-settling into and making yourself at home in a guarded cynicism.
Until someone comes along and knocks it all down. Below lyrics, fragmented.
These inconvenient fireworks / this sudden burst of sunlight / a love that won't sit still.
GOSH anon your mind. it is large. May is this bright spot, this loud firework of heart-on-her-sleeve emotions, this juxtaposition to his cool and calm disposition. tv tropes red blue character symbolism and all that. She's that sun to his clouds, the wrecking ball to the walls he put up so carefully, knocking them over as if they were but dominoes precariously stacked. GOSH I think this song is perfect for him tbh.
Anyways, you have added another song to my contestshipping playlist. as if it needed another. but here we go ALSO GUYS SHARE YOUR CONTEST PLAYLISTS AND OTHER SONGS WITH ME I LOVE DOING THIS STUFF SO MUCH. I love that I ask you guys to send me anons and you actually do!!! I have a LOT of inbox activity for a blog my size and it fills me with SUCH joy, genuinely.
#not that I need to add more to my plate#but i've been rotating a character/ship song of the week thing in my head for a while now#idk if i'll do it#but there's a lot of ideas there and I would have it as like. a thing everyone could do with their own songs and blorbos too#if i did like. tuesday ship/blorbo of the week and everyone added their song for them would you participate???#you could reblog it with a song of your choice and all the symbolism and infodumping you wanted#idk. lmk in comments or on anon if you'd be interested#pokemon drew#contestshipping#ask#asks#taylor's tag#taylor talks#thank you anon!
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There’s only one bed
Originally posted on my Wattpad @MayaBishop_is_myWife
Natasha Romanoff x reader
Fluff
Word count: 1709 (Omg I didn't mean for it to be that long I'm so sorry!!)
Natasha's POV:
Fury Just called me into his office to have a mission debriefing. Normally we'd have the brief with all the Avengers but, this is an undercover mission and let's just say majority of the team aren't very good at that. They blow their cover all the time and can't persuade people to save their lives. Ironic because that's exactly what it does on missions, save their life.
I've been told I'm going with someone but a name hasn't been given yet. I hope it's not an Agent from the academy. They're all newbies so I'll have to hold their hand the whole mission because they're clueless. As I'm walking I bump into Wanda.
Wanda - "Oh hey, good luck on your mission!"
Nat - "Thanks also, do you know who I'm going with? I mean like any details about them?"
Wanda - "All I know is apparently she's very popular among her fellow students, and by that I mean, she's hot."
Nat - "Students?! Great, so she's from the academy?"
Wanda - "Yeah but, Fury wouldn't send her with you if she couldn't handle it."
Nat - "I guess your right but they can be really annoying needing to be walked through every single step of the mission."
Wanda - "I guess you're right but, rumour has it, she's the best of the best. Your level even."
Nat - "Ha, I've heard that one a hundred times before, no one's better than me c'mon Wands you know that."
Wanda - "Haha, yeaah I know Nat but just give her a chance?"
Nat - "Fine, I will but, I got to get to Fury now, I'll see you around."
Wanda - "Bye, good luck!"
We parted ways and I gave her a smile. I walked into Fury's office and was welcomed by the sight of a beautiful woman with wavy y/h/c and shining y/e/c eyes. I going to be honest Wanda wasn't lying, she's perfect. Oh my god, I can't be thinking about these things she's my mission partner! She was already sat down in a chair opposite Fury when I came in so I took the chair beside her.
Fury - "Thank you for both making the time to be here, as you know this is an undercover mission so, pack a bag that'll last at least 2 day and 2 nights. We can never predict what'll happen at these kind of events."
Nat - "Speaking of, what event is it and why exactly are we going?"
Fury - "Well I'm glad you asked. It's part organised by Darren McHugh, not a big name in any industry but filthy rich. Attending the party is Lauren Emerson, your target. All you need is information from her about a weapon Hydra is developing. Her father has every Hydra scientist and engineer in his pocket so, she'll know a lot. Now, she's interested in women which is why there is no men on this case with you. I need you y/n to seduce her and get intel while Natasha watches your 6 and looks for another possible target who, isn't confirmed to be there, but there's a good chance he will be.
Y/N - "What's the other guys name?"
Fury - "James Scott."
Nat - "Is that all?"
Fury - "Yes that's all. Here's your personal copies of the file and be ready at the quinjet in 30 minutes."
With that we both left but I couldn't help feel a pang of disappointment shoot through me at the thought of her flirting with other people. Damn I really need to snap out of this.
I got up to my room and pack my things. I also put in my red dress and black heels for the party and go to the quinjet. As I'm walking I see her already standing there. She catches me staring as I walk towards her and she extends her hand.
Y/N POV:
I look over and see Agent Romanoff coming towards me, eyes trained directly at me. I offer my hand for her to shake and she does.
Y/n - "Agent y/l/n, y/n y/l/n."
Nat - "Natasha Romanoff."
With that we both boarded the ship, settled down and engaged in conversation. It was a long flight and we were going to have to spend the next 24-48 hours together so, may as well get to know each other. This conversation however turned into shamelessly flirting with each other constantly.
Time skip to when the ship lands and they get to the hotel (still reader pov):
We get the the hotel and Natasha asks for our reservation at the front desk. While she's doing that I take a minute to really take in this place because it's massive. There's a chandelier on the ceiling and art all over the walls. The architecture is beautiful and it has gold accents along every wall. It also smelt like vanilla, don't know why that's relevant but it smells nice.
I hear a 'thank you' and 'enjoy your stay' so I assume that Nat has got the key so I begin walking to the lift (elevator). I step in and so does Natasha just a bit behind me. She presses the button to the 5th floor and we stand in a comfortable silence for the short 10 second ride. The doors open with a ding and we step out and go look for our room. Natasha takes the lead and goes straight to our door and opens it with the key card.
Y/n - "Wow Shield really outdid themselves with this one ay?"
Nat - "Yeah, they really did."
(This is already getting really long so instead of writing a description imma just put in a picture.)
As we were walking around the both of us were quick to realise something.
Nat - "There's only one bed."
Y/n - "I was just thinking the same thing. I'll take the sofa (couch) I don't mind at all."
Nat - "No, it's okay I can."
Y/n - "Honestly I'll sleep there it's fine."
Nat - "Look uhm, you don't have to but to save ourselves a very polite argument do you wanna just share it. I mean it's a double so..?"
Y/n - "Yeah sure I mean, if your up for it?"
Nat - "I'm the one who suggested it dummy of course i'm up for it."
I chuckle at her response and put down my bags by the bed. If I was being honest with myself I couldn't help the butterflies that formed when thinking about sharing a bed with her. Goddamnit, she's my superior I can't be thinking like this.
Natasha POV:
I brush my teeth and get changed in the bathroom whilst y/n orders room service. When I walk out she was getting changed so she only had a bra and pyjama trousers on.
Nat - "Oh.., oh! I'm so sorry!"
Y/n - "No sorry it's my fault I should've told you I was changing."
Nat - "It's fine, I mean we're both girls right? i thing we haven't seen before."
Y/n - "Yeah, yeah you're right, both girls."
Nat - "Never seen a girl with abs like that though."
The blush spread on her face faster than a forrest fire. She was flustered and I took great pride in knowing I did that. I made my way to the kitchen so I'd be ready for room service when it came.
Three knocks at the door alerted me that the food was here. I thanked the staff and put the food on the counter.
Nat - "Hey y/n tea's here!" (It depends where your from but tea is just how we say evening meal, like dinner)
Y/n - "Thank god, i'm starving."
We sit on the sofa with our food and watch whatever trashy TV shows are on. We laugh at parts of it and it gives me butterflies, her laugh has quickly become my favourite sound. It's just so beautiful and care free, it also means she's happy which makes me happy. I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear her softly say.
Y/n - "Hey you okay? Lost you for a second there."
Nat - "Yeah, oh um, yeah I'm fine just thinking."
Y/n - "About what? You were very focused."
Nat - "Nothing don't worry about it. Anyway, it's late we should go to bed."
Y/n - "Your right I'll take the plates into the kitchen."
While she was doing that I went to the bedroom and set up the bed. I was laying down when she came in, she tentatively lowered herself o to the bed and layer down facing me.
Y/n - "You sure it was nothing?"
Nat - "It wasn't really nothing and I'm about to talk a lot and I don't want you to talk till I'm done okay?"
Y/n - "Go for it."
Nat - "I like you, like really like you. I know it's wrong because I'm your superior and your not even out the academy yet but I'm 25 and your what like, 20, 21 give or take so it's not like it's weird. Also can you blame me? You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect. Even though we only just met I can't help falling for you y/n. I'm sorry if I've just ruined the friendship we built today but I really needed to get that off my chest."
I look her deep in the eyes for any kind of reaction to what I just said. After a couple seconds of processing she smiled at me. Probably the biggest smile i've ever seen her have. She still hasn't said anything so I speak up.
Nat - "Well?"
She doesn't answer me, instead she gently grabs my face and kisses me softly. Our lips dance against one another as second nature. Once air becomes a problem we release from each other's grasp.
Y/n - "I like you too, if that wasn't already clear."
She giggled like a school girl when I grabbed her waist and started peppering kisses all over her face. She stopped and snuggled closer to me and buried her head in my chest.
"This woman is the one for me" I thought to myself as I held her safe in my arms. Although I really wasn't looking forward to this mission now.
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Like Tsuzuru said, he is going to die .
Maybe this is divine retribution for taking a vacation when he should be brainstorming for the next few scripts. Screw what Syu says, breaks are for people not named Tsuzuru—
Kazunari mumbles something in his sleep, rolling further on top of Tsuzuru and forcing out what little air he has. See? Tsuzuru is going to die, cause of death: Kazunari Miyoshi, who’s apparently a very cuddly sleeper.
He manages to pry Kazunari off of him just enough to breathe; Kazunari rolls over again, wrapping his arms around Tsuzuru. Cool. This is Tsuzuru’s life now.
A hand ruffles his hair. (Oh, god.) “Tsuzu,” Misumi whispers, “go back to sleep…”
Tsuzuru opens his eyes, staring at Misumi. He’d honestly expected Misumi to be wide awake, ready to drag him and Kazunari on a triangle hunt at a moment’s notice, but he looks as sleepy as Tsuzuru feels. Is he keeping him up? Is he jealous that Tsuzuru is currently being treated like Kazunari’s personal body pillow?
Well, okay, Misumi doesn’t strike him as a particularly jealous person, unless that’s why it took him four years to finally get a Super Mister Triangle. So he’s probably not jealous. Especially since Kazunari doesn’t really seem to have consciously decided to sleep on Tsuzuru.
Misumi smiles at him. God, if Tsuzuru were a weaker man, that alone would be enough to make him cave, and then he’d be spilling his guts to the unwilling objects of his affection at 1 am.
Well, at least then Kazunari might stop killing him via cuddles.
Tsuzuru, instead, trades one ill-advised late-night overly-honest statement for another, grumbling, “Maybe if you get your boyfriend off of me, I will.”
For a moment, Misumi looks genuinely taken aback. Great, nice going, Tsuzuru thinks, you’ve upset the friend driving you home. He’ll probably have to call Itaru or Chikage—or worse, Izumi— and beg them to pick him up from wherever—
But then Misumi smiles again, not bright and blinding but something softer, and all the anxieties drain out of Tsuzuru’s head. “It’s okay,” Misumi mumbles, “I don’t mind sharing~”
And then, while Tsuzuru’s still processing that, Misumi has the nerve to roll over and, presumably, fall back asleep.
[snippet from third wheel, which started as a silly pre-vacation fic and ended as a sappy feelings dump after i got engaged <3]
man. what WAS my thought process for this one. i may have just been cuddle-starved?
this is a more broad commentary for the fic in general + my current writing process, but literary impasse has given me a true gift and that is that i've discovered i ADORE writing this funky little transition period where tsuzuru's, like, aware that he needs to develop better self-care habits but struggling to actually put them into practice. (god i LOVE writing fun transition periods. the early bits of relationships where the parties involved are still learning the intricacies in their partner(s)? glorious.) it's SUCH a neat little period of his life and it's really fun exploring the questionable mindset he's developed while acknowledging that he's, like, getting better about it.
i think this is the part of the fic where i realized that kazunari's "oh noooo they only have one bed...." could have just been something he made up, which WOULD have been pretty funny but, like he says later, he'd have been terrified to try that in case it didn't end well. instead he settles for pretending to be asleep to sneak in some cuddles <3 (had to check if that's confirmed in the text, yes it is, good on past chel)
i feel like i always write tsuzuru as someone who's down utterly horrific for whoever happens to be the object(s) of his affection in any given fic, idk if it's the projection or it just Feels Right. (i feel like this is EXTRA the case whenever misumi's involved, but that might just be because i've written a good amount of tsuzumisu(kazu) at this point.) anyway man is he SMITTEN in this one.
i also REALLY like writing misumi as the single solitary person with any sense in his head when it comes to romance, just because he has less anxiety than the other two, and boy is that true in this fic! one of these days i'd like to write a fic where one of the other two gets the brain cell. i keep joking that it'll be tsuzuru but god knows he would never.
But then Misumi smiles again, not bright and blinding but something softer, and all the anxieties drain out of Tsuzuru’s head. “It’s okay,” Misumi mumbles, “I don’t mind sharing~”
i remember adoring this specific paragraph. in general i love contrasting misumi's usual energetic expressions with softer/more romantic ones. also i just love tsuzuru looking at the two of them and going "idk what exactly they have going on but i think they're dating? i think? i don't actually know?"
and finally i think i'm allergic to not shoving comedy into everything i write. someday i will write a full blown tragedy and it will still contain tsuzuru falling down the stairs or something
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Turning the Tables
A Dowton Abbey || Barris ficlet
Just in time for @barris-week-2022, Day 4 - Domesticity & also Part 10 of Thomas Barrow's Photo Album
"How's your mum?" Thomas says over his shoulder as he puts the kettle on. Behind him, he hears Richard pull out one of the chairs from their kitchen table. He's barely said a word since he's come back from his visit, but until now, Thomas has put it down to the late hour and the rain that drenched Richard on his walk home from the station.
"Mum's fine," Richard mutters as he settles down in his chair. He moves with rather less than his customary elegance, too. He's hung up his coat and jacket to dry and loosened his tie, but he still looks bedraggled rather than comfortable.
Thomas puts a cup in front of him, milk, the sugar bowl. "That's good news, but you're clearly not very fine." He was when he left this morning though, and it's unusual for Richard to return from his folks in York in a bad mood.
"Oh." Richard rubs a hand across his tired face. "It's nothing, really. Not worth wasting time or thoughts on."
"Which you've been doing too much of already?" Thomas, the teapot ready and waiting for the water to boil, slides into the chair opposite him. "Tell me? Get it off your mind?" He feels that Richard is avoiding his eyes.
"I… I'll be all right in a minute. I let something upset me and I shouldn't have, is all."
"Be nice if that was always up to us," Thomas remarks. "What happened?"
"My uncle Alfie happened."
"Isn't that the one who - "
"Doesn’t know about us, yeah. He and Aunt Emma happened to be in town today, too, so they invited themselves to tea, and mum couldn't very well say no."
Thomas has never met this particular uncle of Richard's, whose job as a purser in the merchant navy keeps him mercifully far away from home throughout most of the year, and Thomas has no plans to ever make his acquaintance. "What did he do?"
"Nothing. But he said…" Richard shakes his head. "Ugly things." In the ensuing silence, the kettle on the stove starts simmering. "There was a case aboard his ship that he felt a need to tell us about," Richard elaborates when Thomas says nothing. "Two of the crew were caught together. Tried and convicted, and of course sacked from their jobs. You'd think that's enough to satisfy even a hardened bigot, but no, he had to treat us to the choicest expressions of his disapproval, too, while he recounted the tale with relish. At one point, Emma even asked him to keep it down, which she never normally dares."
"Damn, that bad?" Thomas is very familiar with the surprising extent to which Richard is usually capable of disengaging his mind from the casual insults that people tend to throw their way without thinking, and has envied it often enough. He also knows Richard's considerable - and sometimes disquieting - powers of mimicry, how he will copy the bigots' attitudes and parrot their vocabulary with apparent ease when necessary. If his unpleasant uncle's tirade has shaken him this deeply, it must have been exceptionally vicious.
"I don't know, it's - " Richard’s hand sinks down onto the worn table top, but it doesn't rest there. He fiddles with the spoon in the sugar bowl, straightens the milk jug. "Most of the time, I like to think this kind of thing just bounces off me, because I know better." He raises his eyes to meet Thomas' again.
"I know my love for you isn’t dirty, because how could anything dirty give so much joy and meaning to my life? I know it’s not an offence to God, either, because why would God create such a beautiful human being as you and make you cross my path when I was least expecting it? In my head, I'm absolutely certain of all this. But some days, the name-calling just chips away at my soul all the same. And then I start thinking weird things."
"You mean, 'What if they're right?'"
"No. More like, 'How long till all of my soul's gone and there's only a sorry shell left?' I should be used to it by now, but I'm not. What's going to be left of me in another twenty years' time, or thirty, or forty, if I still haven’t learned not to let mere words get to me?"
Thomas reaches out and puts his hand on Richard's arm before he drives both Thomas and their crockery crazy with his restless fidgeting. "I know for a fact that's not going to happen. Your soul is safe and always will be."
Richard arches a tired eyebrow at him, but he does lace his fingers together in a effort to keep them still. "What makes you so sure of that?"
"Because I'd have been an empty shell by the time I was sixteen, if ugly names alone really were that powerful. Won't deny that my brain tried to trick me into believing it at times, but all I need to do these days is look at you and look at this - " Thomas gestures around their kitchen, the warm and beating heart of the little house they share. " - and I know that love wins in the end, not hate."
The convulsive answering twitch of Richard's folded hands still speaks of anxiety.
"Look at it this way," Thomas tries again. "Look at this table." Richard frowns, but he does lower his eyes to the scrubbed wooden surface. They got it second hand years ago when they moved into this shared home, passed down to them from Yew Tree Farm where the Parkers had just got a larger one to accommodate a new generation. "It's not always been treated kindly," Thomas points out. "It's got its cuts and dents and blemishes over time, hasn't it? But none of that has touched its core. All it needs is a coat of new paint from time to time, or a loving touch of polish, but with that, it'll always be as whole and solid as it ever was, no matter how much wear is thoughtlessly inflicted on it."
Richard looks up in surprise, then he lets out an incredulous laugh. "Are you comparing my soul to a kitchen table?"
"A lovingly cared-for kitchen table," Thomas amends, but then he laughs, too. "Look, I make no pretence to the title of poet laureate, all right? If you feel the parallel is unconvincing, it probably is, but…" He breaks off.
To Thomas' surprise, Richard has abruptly risen from his seat. Now he picks up his still empty cup and the milk jug and removes them to the sideboard, then takes the kettle off the fire just before it can start whistling.
"What are you doing?" Thomas asks, slightly alarmed at this sudden rejection of his offerings, and gets to his feet, too.
"Exploring the connection between my subconscious and our kitchen table," Richard replies, suddenly all business, as he puts the sugar bowl aside as well. "I always kind of sensed there was one. I wasn't aware what exactly it was, but I think I know it now."
"Oof," is all Thomas can say as he feels himself pushed backwards and lands on the carefully cleared surface, Richard's left hand cushioning his head against the impact, Richard's right arm around his waist to keep them chest to chest, Richard's comfortable weight on top of him and Richard's smiling face right above him.
"You, my love," Richard says, enunciating every word, "are more than a new coat of paint on my life, and your beauty shines brighter than the finest polish. There's healing in your words, and starlight in your eyes, and there'd be the comfort of both home and heaven in your tea, too, I'm sure, if I had remotely enough patience tonight to enjoy it before I enjoy you."
"Who's aiming for poet laureate now?" Thomas mutters, but of course it does nothing to keep his own delighted blush at bay, nor to curb Richard's enthusiasm. And then they're far past words already anyway.
Thank you @jellybeanlovesbarris for the title!
Thomas Barrow's Photo Album
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
#thomas barrow#downton abbey#richard ellis#thomas barrow x richard ellis#barris#barris week#barris week 2022#barris fanfiction#jolie writes#thomas barrow's photo album#max brown#sister boniface mysteries#sam gillespie
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In my head
#try me/I'd do that for you/you're worth it#im gonna gush bc like he is so good??#we were talking about relationships and i said something like i dont think anyone's ever ready to be with me and he was like try me#and i HAVE heard that before there is nothing he said that i haven't heard before but i was still so 🥺🥺🥺#like it is absolutely ridiculous HOW many times people have told me#and actually DONE that but it just so happens that all of that is BEFORE i open up before let my guard down so#obv it doesn't seem bad you can watch my fav tv show you can read my fav books and plan your week around me#and you can travel an hour for me and you can dream about me and you can buy me as much mountain dew as i want but it's still on the outsid#you wouldn't survive the horribleness of me!! you wouldn't survive a moment of me letting my guard down!! bc i am annoying!! and loud!! and#ridiculously entitled for someone who has zero idea what they are doing!! and im so scared!!#bc usually its someone who is also messy and figuring out their lives aka a student!! but this time!! this guy!! he's got his shit together#I think he's ready to settle down in which case OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL NAY#you have ONE job ONE FUCKING JOB when it comes to dating and romance. no second dates and no falling in love. its not that fucking hard oka#personal#i rly wanna date him 🥺🥺🥺 he's just so good?? no one has EVER dared to shut me up before with a kiss bc apparently i have a v strong top#energy and he str8 up did that and then he pulled away and held my face so gently i was like if u do that one more time#i might be in love pls dont in my head obv#this actually might be the first time since M that im thinking of emotionally opening upto someone but#the moment i do that this will be fucked and he will no longer like me so NO#AMAZING AND WILD how you are held gently ONCE and you're like ah SHIT
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