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fandom-strumpet · 2 years

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My Crazy Life- Part 1

Summary: Y/n is an undercover detective working for Lestrade. When she finally returns back to her normal work, things take a turn for the stranger and she finds herself wrapped up in Sherlock. She comes to adore him but things take a turn when her past comes to test her.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, crazy ex

Word Count: 2,363

A/N: I’ve had this fic buried in my wips for almost a year. Enjoy :)

You were in a rush that day. MONDAY. Your 2 hour work break became a 30 minute break so you were waiting impatiently for your favorite soup to be done at the coffee shop. Granted, it was only 9:40 in the morning but damn you needed their chicken pot pie soup. Little did you know, a certain John Watson was waiting for the same thing. He shuffled in place, checking his watch for the second time in as many minutes. He clears his throat which causes you to turn around to check out the noise. Your eyebrows went up in surprise at seeing the famous detective’s best friend.

John caught your eye contact and smiled nervously, “Uh… Hi.”

“Hi.” you grinned.

“Y/N!” THe barista shouted.

Turning back to the counter you nodded a thanks to the girl and took the bag out of her hand. As you’re walking to the door you turn your head around slightly for one last look. John held his hand up to say goodbye and you smiled, giving a slight wave back. This definitely made your day better. And back to work you went. You dreaded seeing your coworker but knew a shift with her couldn’t be that bad.

~8 HoUrS lAtEr~

The end of the day came. You were wrong. It could be that bad. The fire department ended up having to come out. How could it be that someone much older than me needs supervision? Ridiculous. It was nearing 6 o’clock now and you were supposed to be off at 5:30. You shook your head and sighed. Stepping outside you felt the cool air and the rain sprinkling. You were so glad you walked to work that day, cloudy rainy London was your favorite weather. You popped open your umbrella and started walking, allowing your mind to reminisce on the morning events. You wondered if you would ever meet the great detective himself. Finally you arrive home and shut the apartment door slowly with a sigh. After violently kicking your shoes off you plop down into your arm chair. Ring ring ring. You groaned and tossed your head back. You leaned over and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” You said tired.

“Good news, Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t have to be undercover at the store anymore. One of the delivery boys confessed and the whole operation is down.”

“Oh thank fuckin god.” You palmed your forehead.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry Inspector Lestrade,” you say hurriedly trying to regain your composure, “I meant thank you sir.”

“Much better. You’ll be paired up with Anderson again tomorrow morning. Rest well.”

With that, he hung up and you slammed the receiver down, collapsing with a groan at the thought of working with Anderson. The most annoying twat of a man to exist.

~The Next Day~

You shuddered involuntarily. You had seen a lot over the years but this was new. The man lay flat on his back, his eyes open in a dead stare at the ceiling. He was covered in blood and bruises. The part that gave you chills was the large hockey puck stuck halfway in the corpses mouth, distorting his face into a ghoulish grin.

“I need everyone out for 2 minutes.” A cool voice stated.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows and turned in your crouch looking for the person who just spoke. You gave a shocked expression when you saw him. The great Sherlock Holmes. Anderson and Donovan always complained about him but you found him utterly fascinating. “Uhhhh…”

“I need room to think.”

“Hey- you’re that girl from the coffee shop- uh. Y/n right?” John asked.

“Uh yeah.”

“How come we’ve never seen you before?” John questioned.

“I’ve been undercover for a while.”

“Hmm…” Sherlock cocked an eyebrow and studied you for a moment, “You can stay.”

Anderson started, “But what about-”

“NO.” Sherlock raised his voice, sending a grumbling Anderson away to close the door hard on his whiny exit.

“Time of death, Watson?” John checked the corpses eyes.

“Approximately eight hours ago.”

Sherlock muttered, “So about 2 am?” Using a pen, Sherlock lifted its upper lip, “Broken teeth. He wasn’t as careful this time like he was with the other one. He was in a rush.” Sherlock tilted his head and started to walk around like a vulture.

“Other?” You questioned - immediately regretting it. The men paused and stared at you.

“You don’t know?” John asked.

Sherlock answered for you, “Of course she doesn’t. She’s been undercover and with a coworker like Anderson, I’m sure she needs to be caught up still.”

Your face flushed and you silently cursed Anderson. He was going to be getting an earful from you later.

“Interesting…” Sherlock pulled a strand of hair from the dead man’s hand.

“Inspector Lestrade!”

Lestrade strode in, “Yes, Sherlock? What did you find?”

Sherlock placed the hair in an evidence bag. “Run DNA tests on this, whoever it belongs to is the one who killed this man.”

With that, Sherlock walked out the door, John in tow.

“Have a good day.” He turned to you and slightly smiled. You grinned like a fool watching the pair walk away. You knew a great many adventures lie ahead with Mr. Holmes.

Going down the stairs, Sherlock remarked coolly. “You should ask her out.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You should ask y/n out on a date. You got flustered seeing her.”

“Alright,” John nodded, “I will. Wait for me?”

Sherlock absent mindedly nodded, standing still on the sidewalk by John. John thought you looked like an angel the way you descended the staircase. You gave a big smile, seeing Sherlock and John outside the apartment.

“Did you guys wait for me?”

“Yeah- I was wondering if you would like to go out and get fish and chips with me tomorrow? At lunch?” John spoke fast.

“Sure.” You smiled back, eyes darting to Sherlock’s face.

Sherlock tilted his head, a quizzical look in his eyes at the way you glanced to him.

~ Months Later ~

Was it wrong that you felt excited when a new murder popped up? Granted you weren’t excited about people dying but you knew there was a chance that Sherlock would be there. Over the past couple months you had grown increasingly fond of the Detective. One would dare say you were even crushing on him. You swore you would take that secret to your grave. Unfortunately, you still felt the need to squeal, like some school girl. You let it slip one day to Donovan and she barked a laugh.

“Seriously? Of all the guys in the world and you’re into the freak?”

“He’s not a freak.” You defended, cheeks burning.

Donovan huffed teasingly, “Whatever. You were always a little weird anyway.”

Your phone buzzed in unison with hers and you both looked down to check to find a text from Lestrade on another case. You were so close to being done with your shift. Gear was almost all packed away.

Donovan huffed again in irritation, “Our job is never really done, is it?”

You shook your head with a bitter laugh and followed her out the door.

~At The Scene~

When you arrived, the scene had already been taped off. One of the EMT’s was outside puking. It seemed like it was going to be chalked up to a messy break in gone wrong when one of the techs yelled. One of the bookshelves looked out of place so when the tech moved the shelf to see what was behind, he saw the wall. Lestrade called another tech to help move the shelf. There on the line green wallpaper, dripping in blood was a symbol. You stepped into the room to see symbol and your blood turned cold. You had seen that symbol before.

Anderson passed by you with a smirk, “What’s wrong miss pale face? Never seen writing in blood before?”

Your hand flew up to Anderson’s forearm in an attempt to steady yourself.

“N- n- nuh- “ your eyes rolled back and you collapsed, Anderson lurching forward with the sudden increase of dead weight pulling on his arm.

“Medic!” He shouted.

You started to come to as they were loading you in the ambulance. One of the paramedics leaned over you,

“Hey, can you tell me what your name is?”

“Y/n.” You muttered weakly.

“Awesome. Do you remember what happened y/n?”

You shook your head no.

“You fainted, and we’re taking you to the hospital to check your head just in case, okay?”

“Ok.” You closed your eyes again, the lights were practically blinding you, the smell of the sanitary ambulance flooded you as you somewhat enjoyed the great grumbling feeling the ambulance gave off as it started to move. You gave a little giggle. It was like being in a dragon. Oh yeah... I am definitely concussed.

~At the Hospital~

“Heard you fainted.” The detective tsked. “Bit unprofessional in your occupation.”

“Haha,” You rolled your eyes sarcastically.

“My question is why?”

You shrugged your shoulders, too tired to fabricate a good excuse at the moment. Sherlock didn’t seem to want an actual answer as he continued,

“It’s that symbol. You’ve seen it before, haven’t you? Of course you have.” Sherlock leaned forward in the hospital chair, his hands clasped and his fingers pointed upward where he rested his chin.

“Are you deducing me?” You felt yourself blush as the heart monitor started beeping faster. You wondered how many times Sherlock had deduced you. Secretly you always loved the idea and wondered if he ever figured out much you liked him. No. If so he would have said something.

“The symbol means something to you and whoever drew it knew you were going to see it. An enemy?”

John now stood in the doorway. Your eyes darted to him and Sherlock turned to look at him.

Then John spoke, “or something more powerful- like love? Ex-lover with a grudge to bear?”

John pursed his lips and looked to Sherlock. Sherlock nodded solemnly and looked from John to you.

“Love does make them do crazy things.”

Your face became grim and you snapped,“You could always just ask me you know.”

John grimaced and Sherlock leaned back, “So tell. What does this symbol mean to you?”

You took a deep breath and sat yourself more upright in the hospital bed.

“You were partially right. It’s a symbol me and my ex-boyfriend shared.I designed it.”

Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows and John crossed his arms and said, “like m and h forever kind of thing?”

“Mmhmm. We would sign letters with it and…” your voice faded off. You almost felt embarrassed sharing this, like some child.

“What. Is. His. Name.”

You shuddered involuntarily, goosebumps appearing on your skin. Your stomach started to churn, the memories between you and Jim had been suppressed in your mind. You weren’t ready for a psychotic break in opening Pandora’s abusive box of emotions. Your hands came up to your head pulling at your hair and you pulled your knees in. You hadn’t had an anxiety attack in almost a year but you were close.

“I want to be alone now.” You muttered

“Y/n,” John started.

“Get. Out.”

“No. You need to tell us who he is. He’s out there killing and there will be another dead body soon if you don’t cooperate.” Sherlock stated coldly.

You had never seen Sherlock use this cold side of his personality with you and it was pissing you off.

“I said GET OUT!” You threw a cup against the window, causing a nurse to run in at the commotion.

“Gentlemen, you need to leave now.” The nurse said firmly.

“Fine.”

Sherlock bent down to retrieve the cup and put it back up on your side table. You could feel your mind going 100 miles per hour at that point. The nurse closed the door again with a heavy thud and turned to you.

“Honey I need you to calm your breathing down, okay?”

You nodded shakily.

“That’s it- just deep breaths in and out.”

Inhale. He’s coming. Exhale. He’s coming.

“I’ll get you some more water, okay? Is there anything else you need?”

“Some crackers maybe…” you whispered, laying down on your side to hug a pillow tightly.

You could hear the heavy thud of the door as she left. A lot of time must have passed with you staring at the wall but it felt like she was right back.

“I’ve got your discharge papers hon, just need a couple signatures. And here’s your water and crackers.”

You took the clipboard and hastily signed both pages.

“Your clothes are on the bench.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, giving her a nod.

The nurse left and as soon as the door closed you practically threw yourself out of the bed. You scrambled to get dressed. You had a lot to do and little time to do it before the brewing psychotic storm hit. Sticking a cracker in your mouth you almost missed the little business card Sherlock must have sneaked onto the tray when you weren’t looking. Shaking your head you shoved the card in your pocket and rushed out of the hospital.

“Cab!” You yelled, waving one down.

The cab couldn’t get to your apartment fast enough. You took a breath of relief when the deadbolt slid into place. You nearly had a heart attack when you turned and looked at the counter. A present. Wrapped in a box like a birthday gift for a child with a giant bow on top. With a trembling hand you lifted the tag to read.

Hope you have a happy birthday darling. Miss me? I miss you. Let’s chat soon. -love JM

Hesitantly you opened the present. The sound of ripping paper filled the room and then a gasp. Inside the box was the most beautiful jewel necklace you had ever seen. It lay majestically on the red velvet and you wondered how many people he had to kill to get his hands on this prize. You choked back a sob, your relationship with the crime lord was over and whatever he wanted could only mean trouble.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fanfiction #Sherlock Holmes #sherlock x y/n

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purplesurveys · 2 years

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1467

survey by robotyque

RULES: For the following questions, you must answer a number in a scale from 1-10. You may add a comment/description following it. Here we go.

ON A SCALE FROM 1-10..

How exciting was your day? A solid 5. It was mostly an uneventful Sunday but we did visit some family today, which was nice; and our local university league just held our traditional cheerdance competition for the first time in two years so it was a lot of fun to watch that again. :)

How happy do you feel right now? 4? I hate that it’s Monday again tomorrow and the idea of work generally does a good job of sucking a bunch of happiness out of me.

How clean do you feel? 8. I took a shower today and even though I pretty much bathed in my own sweat this afternoon when I was at my grandmother and cousins’, turning on the aircon as soon as we got home was able to remove all that discomfort.

How full in the stomach? 7. My stomach actually acted up a bit since I chugged down a milkshake earlier today hahaha but going to the toilet was already able to fix that for me.

How thirsty? Eh, a 2. I drank enough water over dinner and don’t feel the need to have any more in the meantime.

How bored? 1. This survey is keeping me busy enough, and a good kind of busy.

How tired/sleepy? 0. I’m typically the least tired during Sundays just because I wanna spend the most time possible doing all my favorite things before starting another week.

How satisfied with life atm are you? 7. I’m fairly happy, but in typical materialistic fashion I always find myself wishing for more out of life.

How satisfied are you with your relationship status? Like, a raging 15. I’m in no hurry to get into a relationship soon and I don’t even think that’s still in the cards for me anymore.

How satisfied are you with your friends? 10. I’m grateful with who I have and who have stayed, and have never felt pressured to expand my circle. If I gain new friends that’d be great, but I’m also perfectly happy with my circle now.

Now what about family? Like a 6. I love most of them but a bunch of them also suck because of their political opinions and slants.

How entertained are you atm? Like...a 7 maybe? My sister is struggling over what to watch on Netflix and has resorted to just watching the 1-minute previews that go with each movie/show.

How bright is the room you're in? 10. All the lights are on where I am and my laptop is also at the brightest setting, hahaha.

How loud is your music/sound you hear? 5. My sister has picked a movie but the TV is set at a reasonable volume.

How confident are you about your looks right now? Like an 8.5. I’d be fine with going out right now if that’s how we could measure looks, and the only thing I’d change are my clothes haha.

How clean is your room? 10. I was out earlier today and didn’t hang out in my room much when we got back, so it’s pretty much spotless at the moment.

How much do you love dolls/stuffed animals? 3. They’re nothing special to me although I do own a couple of BT21 plushies.

How satisfied are you with your room? 6. I like it and it’s certainly my safe space, but it could definitely go through a revamp just so it could reflect more of my interests and personality.

How much do you love dogs/cats (pick one)? 100 for dogs.

How well do you do in school? I want to say an 8. I had okay grades for the most part but was fine with not putting in effort for classes I didn’t care for.

How well can you read out loud? Uh idk I’ll be nice to myself and give me a 10. I’m fine with reading out loud and with public speaking.

How good are your eyes? 1. I’d be nothing wthout my glasses.

IF... (remember, it's still on a scale of 1-10)

If your significant other cheated on you, how mad would you be? 10. Why wouldn’t I be?

What if it was with your best friend? Same rating.

You found a toonie on a ground, how happy would you be? I have no idea what that is.

You lied to a friend about something semi-big, how guilty would you feel? Also a 10. I hate lying to begin with, so doing that to a friend and over a significant matter would do a good job breaking me lol.

You accidentally took something from a store, how guilty would you feel? Probably just like a 5 or 6. It’s not like I meant to take it away and I can easily come back to explain myself and pay for it.

You were given some illegal substance, what would you feel/how much of it? ??? I don’t get this question and am not sure what I’m supposed to rate.

You spent $300 for yourself, how satisfied would you feel? 5. Half of me would be happy with the stuff I bought; the other half would be exasperated at how I managed to blow P15,000 so quickly.

What about for others? 3. I like getting things for other people but I’m not sure I’m willing to spend that much for them at this point.

How angry would you feel if your parents forgot your birthday? 10. They made that birthday lmao how could they forget it?

Lastly. On a scale of 1-10, how entertaining was this survey? 10! It was different and I had fun taking it. Thanks!

#survey #surveys

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

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Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things between them deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

Chapter 6

Spencer slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the morning light seeping in through the curtains. Jo was resting peacefully on his lap just like how they were during the movie. Unexpectedly however, Y/N was leant up against his shoulder, softly breathing. Spencer wished he could stay like this forever, this is how it should have always been. But then, he noticed the time on his watch and realized it was Monday morning.

Jo was tightly clinging on to his right arm so he slowly lifted his left hand and nudged you slightly. You mumbled and dug yourself further into the crook of his neck, clearly not awake yet.

“Y/N, it’s Monday and it’s 7:30 in the morning,” he whispered.

Your eyes shot open and you quickly distanced yourself from him.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to-well you know,” you gestured to his shoulder.

“Josephine, baby, you need to get up now. Mommy forgot to set an alarm for school,” you gently shook the kid awake.

You lifted Jo up as she was beginning to wake and carried her upstairs to dress her.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Spencer called out.

“Could you pack her lunch? Give her a juice box, a fruit cup, a bag of cheez-it’s, and a PB&J please,” you shouted back.

Spencer ran to the kitchen, grabbing the empty dinosaur lunch box from Jo’s backpack. He grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer to keep the lunch box cool inside, putting in a fruit punch juice box and a diced peaches fruit cup with a spoon. He poured some cheez-it’s into a ziploc bag and sealed it shut. Then, Spencer located the peanut butter in the cupboards, slathering it on to the other slice of bread.

“Crust on or cut off?” he yelled upstairs.

“On is fine! Thank you!” you replied as you finished brushing Jo’s hair, starting to head downstairs.

“Jo, grab your lunch box from Spencer and thank him for making you lunch, put it in your backpack, and grab a pop-tart for the road. Mommy just needs to grab her work bag,” you said, putting on a tan blazer and pinning your hair back with bobby pins.

Jo nodded and thanked Spencer, grabbing a strawberry frosted pop-tart and running out the front door with her backpack.

“You know pop-tarts have only three grams of protein but are high in refined carbs like high fructose corn syrup. Studies show they actually can make you hungrier,” Spencer stated.

He wasn’t intending to take a jab at Y/N’s choice of breakfast for Jo this morning but you certainly took it that way.

“I’m sorry, have you raised a kid?” you asked sarcastically.

“No but who’s fault is that?” he snapped back, immediately regretting it.

Your hands fell from where they were adjusting your hair in the mirror. You did not look at him or say a single word as you collected your purse and laptop and began to walk to the door.

“Y/N, wait! I didn’t mean that,” he pleaded.

You inhaled and turned around.

“You don’t get to sit on your high horse and act like I didn’t do you a favor, Spencer,” you clenched your jaw.

“A FAVOR?” he asked incredulously, “You call missing six years of my daughter’s life a favor?”

“You’re seriously going to look me in the eye and tell me that if I called you seven years ago saying I was pregnant, you would have quit the FBI and moved back,” you questioned.

“I-”

“Even if you did quit, you would have ended up resenting us for not getting to fulfill your dreams so yeah I did you a favor.”

“So you think our daughter is some massive burden that you ‘took the bullet’ on? If you truly think that, then maybe I’ll just fight you for custody.”

“I was fully aware of my options back then. I chose to have Jo because she was my dream. But she clearly wasn’t yours because you left me the second you had something better lined up. And I’d like to see you fucking try to fight for custody, news flash! Your name isn’t on the birth certificate. You have no legal rights over Jo. But how dare you even threaten to take my child away from me over a fucking pop-tart, you asshole,” you stormed out the house, slamming the front door behind you.

The feeling in Spencer’s chest now the exact opposite of when he woke up this morning.

Please call me. I’m sorry, I was out of line.

You had a multitude of missed calls and texts from Spencer that you didn’t reply to but that was the first one he sent. One of them said he was being called away on a case so luckily he wasn’t showing up at your door every day.

It was Saturday night and Jo had fallen asleep on the couch watching Tom & Jerry cartoons. You clicked the TV off and carried her up the stairs. You tucked her under her dinosaur comforter and kissed her forehead.

“Bedtime story, Mommy,” she mumbled.

“Okay, which one?” you asked, looking at the bookshelf.

“Caltechia,” she said, opening her eyes slightly.

“What?” you furrowed your brow.

“Spencer told it to me. You know the one with the goofy knight that loves the elegant queen and pretty princess of Caltechia,” Jo stated matter-of-factly.

You smiled softly, “I’m sorry, Baby J, I don’t know how that one ends. Maybe Spencer can finish it for you some day. How about The Very Hungry Caterpillar instead?”

She nodded and her eyes fluttered shut once again as you began to read.

After flicking the lights off and gently shutting Jo’s door, you returned downstairs to grade some papers.

You got through about five when there was a soft hesitant knock on the door. You sighed, closing your laptop. Your TV was on as background noise and the lights in the living room were on so it was obvious you were home and still awake. You already knew who it was without even looking.

You opened the door slightly to see Spencer standing there with swollen puffy eyes and nervous fidgety hands.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

You opened the door all the way and plopped yourself back down on the couch.

“Jo is sleeping so if you came here to yell at me again, save it,” you huffed.

“No, I came here to apologize. I wasn’t trying to criticize your parenting. I was just stating a random fact I read, it was stupid. I’m sorry. And I’m also sorry that I escalated the argument instead of trying to defuse it,” he spoke softly.

“I’m sorry too. I should have known that it was just another statistic. Some things never change,” you laughed softly.

“But Y/N, you knew that I had a father that abandoned me and my worst fear was becoming him and you still kept Jo from me anyways,” he whispered with watery eyes.

“You know how you claimed you broke up with me to protect me? I thought keeping Jo from you so you didn’t have to make that decision was kind of like protecting you. You can’t abandon a child you didn’t know existed.”

“Well, I know about her now and I’m not abandoning her. I don’t want to. Can you please let me be her dad and not just her father?” he pleaded, wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek.

“We can tell her at breakfast in the morning and you can come with us to the park tomorrow. I guess we could work out some days that you can drop her off at school or pick her up and keep her for dinner. But she sleeps here, I’m not budging on that for now. She needs some consistency if we are going to spring this on her,” you replied.

“Yes! Yes! Thank you,” he excitedly whisper-shouted.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Spencer pulled you in for a hug. He soon realized when you tensed in his arms.

“Oh-uh I’m sorry,” he stuttered, pulling his arms back, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

He awkwardly waved as he made his way to the door.

“Good night, Spencer.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You pulled back the window curtain a little to watch Spencer walk out of your driveway. He had his back turned to you but you saw him pump his fist in the air and jump up and down a few times before collecting himself and beginning to walk away with a smile on his face. You laughed to yourself. Still the same old goofy Spencer.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer reid #reid x reader #cm fic #spencer reid x you

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rent-a-bat · 3 years

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Drabble #2

Promt: #100 “I’m yours”

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Requests open

A/N: I may have gone a bit overboard with this one, but once I started I couldn't stop. Just beware, this is full of angst, I tried to make this happier for him, but you know how it is.

I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

You were sitting on your bed.

The same place you've been for the last 12 hours. You haven't moved since you got there, haven't even eaten, the knot in your stomach making it impossible to keep something down or think about food and the knot at the back of your throat, too busy keeping the water from your eyes to do the same with another.

The clock marked 3 in the morning, which meant you only had 4 hours left if you wanted to rest before work. If you wanted. You weren’t sure you wanted to work tomorrow, you weren’t sure what you wanted at all. Not since that last text.

Your work at the Bank of Gotham had you busy for the last few weeks, and today you could finally get home early, free to enjoy the weekend, not that you wanted it that much. Jason had been out on a mission for three weeks now, making the extra hours at work feel like a blessing if it meant not going back to the apartment you both shared, cold without his presence. Long missions always made you worry, not knowing how he was and if he was okay. In his line of work there were always risks, you both knew it well, too well.

After changing out of your work clothes and making you dinner, you finally sat down on the couch and relaxed, keeping you busy with Netflix before going to bed. A few minutes into your second episode, your phone rang. Groaning internally, hoping it was nothing work related, you opened the message to a picture and a single question.

The force with which your hand gripped your phone you were sure was gonna break it. The message showed a photo of Jason, arm in arm with another girl, a pretty girl, walking into one of the jewelry stores on the other side of town, and the question “Is this your guy?”, right at the bottom. The text came from one of your coworkers and friends, so you were sure it wasn't just some random person trying to hurt you.

It hit you like a bucket of water. You knew Jason had friends, all kinds of friends, doing what he does is part of the job, even if sometimes his personality didn't help. So you knew about them, boys and girls he could call that, he’s talked about them. And that was the thing, you talked. Talking has always been an important part of your relationship and it wasn't just talking, it was about building trust. You always talked the truth, you had agreed on that since day one, since he decided to trust you with his secret identity, letting you choose between staying with him, or leaving, trusting you with that knowledge and that you'd keep it safe, regardless of your choice. That's why telling you everything was crucial if you were dating a vigilante, if you were dating him, being truthful with each other, which meant telling you what you needed before missions, how long he'd be out, if he could talk and if he would be going with someone, it was his way of showing you he cared, that he loved you.

And last time you talked he was still on a mission, out of Gotham, but he had assured you he was coming home before Monday, so seeing this on Friday wasn't something you could easily take.

The buzz of your phone took you out of the hole your mind was heading. Your friend had followed him inside and the photos they sent were like a stab to the heart, each digging deeper and deeper until you were sure your heart was bleeding right there. He was smiling, broad and unbashful while she was trying pieces of jewelry. And the girl, she was pretty, younger than you, her dark hair a compliment of his and her small frame made them look like a perfect pair. She looked comfortable with him, the way someone did when they knew the person, the kind that took time, or trust. You were sure you weren't the jealous type, but the way he smiled, how he seemed to be laughing with her, it reminded you so much of the way he did the same with you. The ease of their relationship, different from yours.

You couldn't finish your food after that, you went straight to your room and sat on your bed, the loneliness of your home now fitting to how you felt, which took you to now. You didn't want to believe that, not wanted to believe that, so you stayed up thinking about it, what to do, how to broach it. You needed to hear the truth from him.

Ignoring the time, you reached for your drawer, taking out the burner phone he had given you for whenever you wanted to talk when he was out.

Minutes passed before you finally pressed the calling button, each ring on par with the beat of your heart until you heard the sound of his voice as he answered.

“Hello, y/n.” The softness in his voice when he said your name was threatening to unravel the knot you were trying so hard to keep at bay.

“Hello, Jay.” your voice was barely a whisper, fearing the tears might come out if you spoke louder and make him worry. But even if you tried you couldn't keep him from noticing it.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen?” His concern was making everything harder, were it not for the photos, you would have been sure it was real.

“Nothing happened, just.., I was missing you, that's all.” You tried to keep your posture. “Hey, Jay? When are you coming back?”

“Uhmm, I'm not sure y/n. The mission with B. is taking longer than I thought, uh, I'm not really sure when I'll be back. I'm sorry.” Lies. They were all lies. He had lied to you.

“It’s fine” The control you had was breaking. “Please, stay safe.” You needed to end the call. “I love you” Now.

“I love you too, y/n”

The moment the call ended you finally broke. The one thing you promised, shattered by mere words. You cried until your throat hurt, you cried until your eyes burned and every breath came harder than the other. You cried until it was the last thing you did before falling asleep.

You called in sick the next day. You didn't want anyone to see you, and if he was really back, you didn't want to see him.

The home you had both shared now felt wrong. Its walls pressing on you, telling you how you were no longer his, no longer welcomed. You had to get out.

You took out a suitcase from the bottom of your bed. His bed now. Quickly filling it with enough things to last you until you could find a new place, for now you guessed a hotel was enough, you had enough money saved and a stable job, the only problem was getting a new place in such a short notice.

When you were sure you had everything you might need, you headed to the door. Leaving your suitcase on the floor you turned around to take a last look at the home you had both shared, now just a reminder of what you lost and what he did.

Life must not have been done playing with you, for when you opened the door, the last person you wanted to see appeared in front of you.

"Jason." His name left your lips before you could stop yourself.

"Y/n." Your name said so softly, like he couldn't believe you were really there, it had been a long time after all. He was standing before you, the smile on his face making you hurt all over gain. His fist in midair, like he was about to knock.

"Surprise?" He asked, brows furrowed looking at you and the suitcase on the floor.

"Uhm, did I miss something?"

“I'm leaving” you said, grabbing your suitcase. "I'll be back for the rest later."

"Leaving? Where?" Confusion tinged his voice.

“Look Jay, it's fine. I kno- I know you had your reasons. You just didn't know how to tell me.”

"Y/n, I don't know what you're talking about. Let's go back inside so we can talk about this." He moved, trying to get you both into the apartment. You raised a hand to stop him.

"It's fine. You don't have to do this. I already know."

“What?”

"They saw you, Jason. With… her. Yesterday, remember?" The way his face paled was worse than anything.

"Y/n…"

"So what I'm saying is that I'm leaving, I don't want to interfere with anything. You are free of me. Free to do whatever you want..., or whoever you want."

"No. Y/n, let me explain. That's not… it's not like that." His voice pleading as he reached for you, making you flinch, hurt flashing on his face at that.

He took back his hand, fingers tightening into a fist at his side, stepping back. It pained you seeing him like that, but he had hurt you too.

Gathering all your resolve, you started to talk again before you lost the courage to do so.

"Not like that how, Jason? Not like you were out with someone else? Not like you lied to me about not being here yet? About how the "mission" was taking longer, while all you were doing was going around with someone else?" You huffed, shaking your head, not wanting to look at him. "All I want now, is to leave."

You pushed past him on your way out when a hand on your arm stopped you from moving further.

"Jason, let me go." You said, not daring to look back.

"No. Y/n, just…"

"Please!" You almost shouted, still not looking back.

"Y/n, look!" The tug on your arm and the tone of his voice making you turn around.

On his hand was a single blue box, the other still on your arm, keeping you from leaving.

"What is this?" Your voice wavering as you reached for it.

"Open it." Both of his hands went to his pockets as he stepped back, giving you space while you did it.

Inside the box were a pair of rings, a simple silver band and a smaller more elaborate one with a single gem in the middle. The styles were different but you could tell they were meant to be a pair.

Your confusion must have been clear on your face, as he spoke before you could ask. "It's for you. For... both of us."

Still not understanding you lifted your face to look at him, your eyes landing on his. His expression was clear on his face, he was opening to you, letting you see how vulnerable he was right now, only to you.

"Last mission made me realize how much you mean to me, and how I don't want to be apart from you." He reached to grab your hand, and this time you accepted the gesture, firmly grasping his as you touched.

"And so I hurried to finish early and came back home. I wanted it to be a surprise, that's why I didn't tell you" he rubbed at the back of his head. "But now I see how that wasn't the smartest thing to do. I know we agreed on the truth and I should've told you." He rubbed your fingers as he rushed through his words.

"I'm really sorry, y/n. Please, believe me." That last thing said so low you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close to him.

You pondered through his words, this was the truth, the whole truth, no cover-ups, no white lies, the pure, absolute truth. And you believed him, but the main question remained.

"And the girl… who was she?" You asked slowly.

"Ah…" he covered his face, his ears and cheeks going pink. "She's… my … sister"

You lifted a brow. There's never been a sister.

"You have a sister?"

This was the only thing you never talked about. Family was a hard topic for him, and you respected his privacy. The few things you knew were purely coincidental, occasions where you met his brothers by chance. He introduced you to them and that was that, you knew he would tell you all when he was ready, so now hearing about a sister was a bit shocking, but you understood.

"Her name is Cassandra. Cass. When I told her about you and how I felt, she offered to help me pick something for you" the fondness in his voice warming you up.

"She's not the best at words, but her actions speak a lot, I guess that's why we get along so well."

He looked at you, waiting for you to say something, anything. Instead, you placed the open box back on his hand.

"Would you help me put it on?" Relief washed over him, the smile he gave the brightest of them all. It was full of love, just like the one you gave back.

"I'm yours, y/n" he said as he slipped the ring on your finger. "Now and forever."

"And I'm yours, Jason. Always will be"

A whisper between the two. A promise you both made, sealed with a kiss.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #jason todd imagine #jason todd #red hood #batman #batfam #my writing #jason todd reader insert #red hood reader insert #dc #dc comics #dc reader insert

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serenadeonacanoe · 3 years

Text

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

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#namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #artist!namjoon

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prettyboyreid · 3 years

Text

can you read to me? (III)

(part one) (part two)

Even after a silly fight, the reader can’t seem to go to sleep without Matthew next to her.

College!Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Warnings: language, angst

Word Count: 3681

The next few days seemed to drone on and on.

Finals. Lunch. Finals. Studying.

It was an endless cycle that felt like it would never end for you. Thankfully, on Friday, you had a ticket back home for Christmas break, which had just been delayed two days due to the snowy, icy New York weather. The bad part was that it was only Wednesday.

You hadn’t talked to Matthew since Monday. The second time you had seen him in almost a month, and you had fought yet again. You wanted to talk to him again - you could hardly sleep without listening to him talk - but God you didn’t know if you could handle another argument.

You were in the middle of reviewing for your chemistry final (thankfully, the last science class you might ever need to take) when the door to your dorm creaked open slowly and steadily. Your roommate, Mia, peeked her head through the crack in the door, giving you a soft smile once she saw you look up from the laptop.

“Hey,” she said in a gentle voice, stepping fully into the room once you returned the smile. “The end of the semester party is tonight. Do you want to go with me?” she asked you, folding her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the door.

You gave her a simple shrug, closing the laptop as you turned your full attention to her. “I don’t know, I have to study for my final,” you began to explain, letting out a huff of breath at the thought of studying stoichiometry or the periodic table for another second. She frowned, moving to sit on the edge of your bed before resting her hand on your duvet-covered leg.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked, giving you a sympathetic look. It wasn’t too hard for her to figure out that it had something to do with Matthew; he had been in our room practically every day since we started dating freshman year, and now she hadn’t seen him in three weeks. You used to not be able to shut up about him and any of his weird quirks; you had hardly spoken, especially since Monday. She was good at reading people - there was no question about that - but it didn’t take a genius to figure out your heart was slowly breaking during what was supposed to be one of the happiest times of the year.

You sighed heavily, pushing away from your small, cluttered desk and rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands. “He, uh… we got into a fight,” you told her, looking down at your lap a bit as she rested a comforting hand on top of yours. “He got pissed at me for hanging out with Jack a couple weeks back, and I got pissed about him hanging out with Lydia, so we hadn’t talked in two weeks. I, uh, couldn’t sleep Sunday night and I went down to his room, and it seemed fine, then when I went to talk to him later…” you chewed on the inside of your cheek, hesitant to talk about one of the people that irked you the worst in the world. “... Lydia was in his room, and he told me she tried to kiss him when we weren’t talking,” you told her softly, your voice trailing off a bit as you thought more and more about it.

The past few days, you pushed it to the back of your mind. You didn’t want to think about either of them, the way Lydia made you second-guess every second Matthew went back to his room and went back home for break, and the way Matthew used to make you feel, the same things that used to give you butterflies now making you want to vomit at the first thought of him.

“Shit, I’m… I’m sorry, Y/N,” was all your roommate managed out after a few silent moments. You didn’t think Mia would know much about this sort of thing - she had never been one for relationships, especially ones that lasted as long as yours and Matthew’s. But, to your surprise, she was always able to make you feel better about anything that happened in your relationship. This, as you had suspected, was no different.

“How about we get you out of the dorm tonight. You’re almost done with your finals, and you leave in two days. You could use a little down time,” she coaxed, nudging your shoulder playfully with a wide grin.

The thought was tempting. You didn’t want to spend one of your last winters at New York University wallowing in self-pity; it wasn’t exactly your first choice of past times.

“Fine,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “But we have to be back before one; my last final is at ten A.M. tomorrow and I can’t be late for it,” you told her, and her face lit up with a smile.

“Great! That’s perfect. I’ll stay sober so you can let loose a little bit. God knows you deserve it,” she said, winking at you before standing up from her chair. “Wear that red shirt that makes your boobs look good!” she called to you from the doorway, presumably going down the hall to get ready with some of her friends. You laughed softly but nodded, giving her a soft smile as she turned to head out the door.

The second you made your way through the threshold of the fraternity house that hosted the party, a drink was thrusted into your hand. Mia took hers happily, handing it over to you. “You need it more than me,” she grinned, dumping the blue tinted liquid into your solo cup before tossing the empty cup into a nearby garbage can.

You looked around the packed room for a moment, shoving your free hand in the back pocket of your jeans while Mia began talking with the first person that she noticed who came into her peripheral vision. You couldn’t say you were too surprised with this - she was much more social than you were.

You found yourself wandering around the first floor of the house, tapping your fingertips against your leg to the beat of whatever song was blaring through the speakers. The longer you stood meandering through the packed house, however, the more you realized this really was the last place that you wanted to be.

You still sipped from the drink as you made your way up the steps of the house, hoping to find a bit of solitude from the sleazy frat boys and the girls who were only being nice because they were intoxicated. You sat down on the top step of the carpeted staircase, taking a long sip of your drink before you practically felt yourself jumping out of your skin at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Y/N?”

You turned around, probably much quicker than you should have, only to see Matthew towering over you. The bags under his eyes had returned, and he had a cup in his hand that looked much more empty than your own. You stood up a bit and chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering whether or not the best place to talk was in the middle of a sweaty and loud fraternity house.

“Hey, Matthew,” you said softly, scratching at the back of your neck somewhat anxiously. You didn’t know what you were supposed to say to him - it felt like it was wrong to even be in the same house as him right now.

He looked down into his cup when you spoke to him, as if he was trying to avoid the situation at hand. But you knew Matthew Gubler better than anyone else, and you knew he definitely wanted to fix things right now.

“I-I’m really sorry about everything that happened with Lydia,” he said honestly, though it came out so quickly you were sure you had misheard him at first. You just nodded in response, taking another sip of your drink as you tried to turn your focus to anyone - anything - else that you could see.

You saw him frown a little bit at that, and he looked down to his feet again. You followed his gaze for a brief moment, and fought back the urge to smile when you noticed his mix-matched socks - one of them red with black stripes, the other purple with blue polka dots sprayed all over them.

“I know you are,” you told him after a few silent moments, still keeping your concentration on the ground in front of you. For some reason, now it felt almost too nerve-wracking to even look at him, like you had never known him. Was it a bit dramatic? Maybe, but the Matthew that you knew wouldn’t have acted the way he had the past few weeks.

You didn’t even want to think about it more than you have been the past two nights.

He stayed silent for a few more minutes, dragging his fingertips and nails across the grooves embedded in the plastic solo cup in his hand. He looked to you again when he finally found the words that he needed, running his hand back through his hair. “Do you want to… do you want to go back and talk about it a bit?” he asked softly, swirling his drink around in his cup a bit.

Right now, the last place you wanted to be was where Lydia had been. But at the same time, it was the only place you really wanted to be, like it was the only place you thought you would be okay.

You just nodded after a few moments and set your cup down on the thick wooden banister, shoving your hands into your pockets before walking down the steps, assuming Matthew was hardy two steps behind you.

The walk back to the dorm building was almost eerily quiet. The only sound you could hear, or probably just register, was the loud crunching of the freshly fallen snow beneath yours and Matthew’s feet. You didn’t really need to look back to him to make sure he was following you, you just knew he was.

You flashed your school ID card over the scanner before walking into the building, heading up towards the elevator and pressing the button to go up. Once you stepped into the elevator cart, everything seemed to get even quieter. You could swear you could hear your heart beating in your chest, the cart moving much slower than usual.

Floor one.

Floor two.

Floor three.

Floor four.

Floor five.

With a short ding, the large metal doors finally peeled apart, and you let out a heavy sigh. The ride up felt like a chore, and you could practically feel yourself getting claustrophobic trying not to look or speak to Matthew.

You led him down to the end of the hall, opposite of his dorm, and pulled your keys out of your pocket. You felt his eyes on you - not in a weird way, though it gave you butterflies when that was the last thing you wanted to feel at that moment.

You unlocked the door and pushed it open, hanging your keys up on a hook beside your door and flicking on the lights. It looked much more empty than it usually did, given you and your roommate were mostly packed up to go home for a month. You had duffel bags and suitcases scattered around the room, along with a few grocery bags so none of your snacks would expire while you were gone.

After a few moments of silence, you turned back to Matthew with your arms folded across your chest. “What? What did you have to say?” you asked him, your words coming off much more harsher than you really intended them to be.

You watched a twitch of a frown flash across his lips before his lips pressed into a flat line, sitting down on Mia’s bed, across from where you were standing at the moment. He looked like he was mulling over every single possible word he could say to you in his head, but he didn’t know which was best. He looked up at you after a few moments, wring his hands out in his lap as he took a deep intake of breath.

“I’m really sorry.”

Your nose twitched a bit as you listened to him, letting out a heavy breath through your nose. You had heard him say he was sorry before, why was this time supposed to be any different?

“Sorry?” you asked with a bit of a scoff. “You’re sorry that you kissed another girl while you thought we were still together?”

“I didn’t kiss her first!” he defended himself, running his hands down his dark blue jeans as he shook his head a bit. “I don’t know what else you want me to say about it, I am sorry. I didn’t want to kiss her,” he told you, the words rolling off of his tongue as if each syllable took a weight off his shoulders.

You huffed out again and kicked off your shoes, shoving them under your bed as you listened to him. “Why would you invite her over if she kissed you, then?” you asked, sitting down on your bed and folding your hands together in your lap. You weren’t sure whether or not you really wanted the answer to that question, but you looked to him expectantly and waited for his excuse for your question.

As you expected, he was silent for a few moments. Much longer than you would’ve liked, in fact. But eventually, he quietly spoke up with the same answer you had heard before. “I don’t know.”

“Of course you don’t,” you frowned, looking over at your desk where you still had a picture of the two of you framed in the far corner of it.

“I’m sorry, okay? It was stupid. I shouldn’t have even talked to her after that. I shouldn’t have let her into my room and I should’ve just let her be after she kissed me. I don’t know what else I can do to make this better,” he told you, running his hands back through his hair and tugging a bit on the ends of it.

You looked down at your socks as you listened to him, trying to shake the thought of everything that had happened. You didn’t want to forgive him, and you really shouldn’t, but you knew he pushed her off.

But he also let her in afterwards.

“I’m sorry. She asked how everything was going with you, and I wanted to tell her what was happening since we were going to lunch, and she just… she kind of made her way in, I guess?” he tried to explain, letting his hands do some of the talking as he tried to clear the situation.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, checking the time on your alarm clock before sighing, going over to one of your duffel bags and pulling out a pair of sweatpants. You changed out of your jeans and into the sweats quickly, pulling your hair up into a loose ponytail before pulling the comforter on your bed back and looking over to him. “Come on,” you said softly, nodding towards the bed.

He furrowed his eyebrows together as he watched her, but still slowly stood up and made his way over to her. “You… you’re not mad?” he asked, kicking off his Converse shoes before carefully climbing into the small bed.

“I don’t know what I am right now,” you confessed, getting in the bed next to him. “But I haven’t slept well in over two weeks, and I know you haven’t either, and I’d rather get one good sleep before I go home than spend the night arguing,” you told him, flicking off the light next to your bed before resting your head on his chest.

He nodded softly, sinking down a bit so he was lying flat on his back so the two of you could be more comfortable. “What do you want me to read to you?” he asked quietly, looking up at the ceiling as he waited silently and patiently for your response.

“Can you read Annabel Lee again?” you asked quietly, letting your eyes adjust slowly to the darkness around you as he cleared his throat a bit, knowing he was focusing on the ceiling so he wouldn’t forget anything.

“It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me…”

You let your eyes slowly close as his voice slowly lulled you to sleep, worried you wouldn’t even be able to stay up for the rest of the poem.

“I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

“And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.”

His long, slender fingers eventually found their way to your hair, pushing some loose, fallen strands from your face as he spoke. The words rolled easily off his tongue, like he didn’t even have to think about them.

“The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

“But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we—

Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;”

His voice was much more rigid and stoic than the last time he recited the poem to you, like he was reading from the pages the first time he read it to you. Like he was detached, like he almost… didn’t care as much as he used to.

“For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea—

In her tomb by the sounding sea.”

You looked carefully up at him, making sure not to disturb him, before frowning a bit. His face was focused on your ceiling, almost looking bored, like he had better places to be. You sighed and rested your head on his chest, slowly but surely falling into another slumber.

By the time you woke up a few hours later, you couldn’t help but frown at the lack of warmth surrounding you. You rubbed tiredly at your eyes as you looked around the empty room, seeing your roommate had already cleared out for break.

You looked to your side, seeing an empty bed that differed from what you saw last night. You sat up and leaned back against your pillows, before you caught sight of a loose piece of paper on your desk.

You reached over and grabbed it, smiling sadly when you saw the scrawled, curly handwriting that spelled out your name on the front of it. You carefully unfolded it, your smile quirking down into a glower when you saw what the letter wrote.

“Y/N,

I love you. I really, really do.

But now isn’t a great time for either of us.

I can’t put you through what you’ve gone through the past two weeks over all of Christmas break. I don’t want to make you have to deal with all of that again.

I’m sorry I left without saying anything, but my flight was early and I couldn’t miss it; my mom wanted me home tonight for a big family dinner.

If you want to talk over break, you know my number, and you can call me whenever. I’ll always answer.

I love you, my Annabel Lee.

(In the totally not necrophiliac way)

Matthew <3”

You couldn’t help but frown as you read it, but shoved the flimsy paper into your back pocket. You didn’t want to think about what he had written, or even think about him at all. You just packed up the last of your clothes that you would need for the month, pushing down the pictures of you and Matthew, or just Matthew, whenever you came across them in your room.

When you finally packed up, you grabbed all of your bags and brought them out into the hall, setting them down on the ground as you locked up. As you did, however, you couldn’t help but frown as you found yourself looking down towards the other end of the hall, hoping to see Matthew coming out of his dorm all of a sudden, laughing and being happy like he usually was.

But instead, you were met with a dark hall, piles of snow mounted on the windows darkening the hallways. It almost made you feel sick, the way the light seemed to drain out of your entire life the second Matthew was gone.

As you walked down the hall to the elevators, you silently wished that you could go back and change everything, make it all right.

But you knew it was too late.

------

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folerdetdufoler · 3 years

Note

What are Magic 8ball Evak doing today? I miss them.

hey, sorry, you sent this a few weeks ago i think and i really got hung up on it.

usually this kind of thing would be fun to think about but because of the way time works i didn’t know how to write around it! like, when you sent it it was late august, and technically that had like, just happened in the story. we’d just had a late august, so i couldn’t figure out if i should write another “late august day” almost a year after the story finished, even though i only finished the story back in april. that felt like too much of a time jump though, and i hadn’t given isak and even enough time to grow after the story ended. someone else had asked for an update in the comments on ao3 and i couldn’t give them one, not the same way i have been doing for mondays. but i do want to do something, so…

even’s birthday fell on a sunday. it was the first one isak would be celebrating with him, so isak wanted it to be special. but so did sigrid, and she worked faster than him. she invited them to their house for dinner months in advance, which annoyed even. the saturday before, when they were all hanging out at elias’s apartment, even spent most of the time grumbling about it.

“i thought things were getting better with you guys?” elias asked from his throne.

even sighed. “yeah, i mean, we’re fine. this guy is her new bff.” even patted the head of curls sitting against the couch between his legs. “but i just know it’s going to be this over-the-top thing that i don’t want to have to deal with on my birthday of all days. i don’t want that attention.”

isak paused the race he was playing against mikael and whipped around. “you love the attention.”

“yours, not hers.” even gave that same head a correcting tap and isak returned to the game. “if she actually wanted to celebrate my birthday with me then she would ask me what i would like to do, and then maybe it would be something i would enjoy.”

isak scoffed but didn’t pause the game this time. “if she did that you would just tell her to leave you alone.”

“happy birthday to me!”

“then you should just tell her no, you don’t want to spend your birthday with her.” elias doled out the reasonable and obvious advice.

“i would have, but she invited both of us and isak accepted immediately. besides, it’s kind of a regular thing now, sunday dinners.”

“that’s cute,” mutta noted as he walked in from the kitchen with a bag of pretzels and jar of peanut butter. mikael pointed to the coffee table, a silent command to place the snack within his reach.

isak felt a little guilty then, but he kept it to himself. they kept playing their game until it was mutta’s turn, and then isak pushed himself to his feet. he gestured to even to follow him to the kitchen.

even had a big smile on his face as they stepped away, because he was probably thinking isak wanted to kiss him in the privacy of another room. isak did pull him in close by the waist, but it wasn’t for kisses. “we can skip tomorrow,” he offered instead.

even froze for a second, but then shook his head. “no, no, we can go. i would only make it worse by skipping.”

“i would be happy to tell her we’re skipping but take her out to dinner on her own another night, smooth things over.”

even chuckled. “i absolutely love that you feel comfortable having one-on-one dates with my mother but it’s really not necessary. I’m just…complaining. and i’ll complain a little bit more in therapy, and then i’ll work through why i’m complaining and then i’ll be in a better mood for tomorrow. okay?” he reached up and rubbed isak’s shoulders in reassurance.

“will you tell me about it when you get home?” sometimes even shared what they’d talked about and sometimes he didn’t. isak was getting better about asking permission to cross the ever-changing border.

even’s eyes shifted to the side. “it depends on what we dig up.”

isak accepted this. “okay.” he leaned in to kiss even’s cheek, physically changing the subject. “my next question is…how angry do you think elias will be if i steal the big pillows?”

―――

isak had moved into even’s apartment right before christmas, hauling bags and suitcases back and forth over a few days until most of his belongings were at even’s. he fit a desk and his nice chair in the bedroom, and somehow all of his clothes fit in even’s closet. the giant pillows he’d bought had stayed at elias’s apartment, mostly because they would get more use there; the boys still gathered on saturdays and needed the extra seating. but after even left for therapy this was isak’s chance to make the steal without ruining his surprise.

mikael helped him carry them to even’s apartment, since he was ready to leave around the same time as isak. they didn’t talk much on the walk over, but isak knew that that was mikael’s preferred level of communication, and they were both comfortable with it. isak would much prefer a mikael at peace than a mikael ready to launch an attack.

they deposited the pillows in the living room and mikael turned to leave. “we should be here at six?” he asked over his shoulder.

“yeah. i don’t know how late we’ll be but if we leave early then that would be a good time.”

“okay. and elias still has his key?”

“yup.” isak followed mikael down the stairs to their shoes.

“aight. we’ll see you tomorrow then.” mikael offered his hand for a casual slap-shake goodbye, the most physical intimacy isak had ever experienced with him.

“thanks for the help!”

mikael disappeared. isak went back upstairs to find his phone and finalize plans with kari anne in the group chat.

―――

isak dressed nicely for dinners at sigrid & jan’s house. this time he had a red fair isle sweater and dark wash jeans, and some chunky socks keeping his feet warm in his leather boots. even wore something very similar, but his sweater was cream with a different pattern. “do you think she’ll want to take pictures of us again?” even wondered while he combed back his hair, then gently mussed it into a style.

“of course. it’s your birthday. and we look handsome.” isak was applying a dot of concealer just because he could, though he would have to ask emma for more if he wanted to keep up this routine. even put his comb bak in the drawer then leaned in to kiss isak on his opposite cheek. he added a smack to his ass on the way out.

isak liked to dress up a bit because it felt like sigrid and jan dressed up too. it was the polite thing to do, but also isak knew that conversation would flow better if they were all on the same page, even with their appearance. they were all putting the same level of effort into the gathering, and then no one would feel out of place. and it wasn’t too much extra effort, because they would just save the same outfits for work the next day…as long as they didn’t get any stains on them.

they gathered their outerwear as they walked down the stairs, pulling hats and scarves and heavy coats from the hooks along the walls. isak checked in with even right before they left. “are you sure?”

even nodded and smiled and isak didn’t doubt the honesty of his response. he’d shared that his session yesterday had gone well, and they’d talked about certain behaviors from sigrid and himself that he wanted to avoid. “like i’ve been remembering things she’s said and reacting to those instead of what she’s actually doing now. when i feel ready to discuss those past…transgressions, then i need to have a conversation specifically about those moments, versus whatever might be triggering those memories now, whether they’re related or not. otherwise it’s kind of like these mixed messages. she won’t understand what’s actually upsetting me.”

on the way over isak suggested a dinner with just his parents, where isak stayed home. “would it be easier, or give you more of an opportunity to discuss those things without me there?”

“maybe another time. sundays are nice with you.” he gave isak’s hand a squeeze.

they held hands in public now, while they were commuting to work or grocery shopping or walking over to elias’s or meeting emma for dinner. if isak happened to catch a stranger’s curious look, he might tense up a bit, but he didn’t let go anymore.

sigrid & jan’s house was a tiny thing that they’d moved into after even went to university. its yard was bigger than the actual house, but it was completely filled with jan’s garden. another nice thing about going to visit was that they always came home with plenty of seasonal crops. and in the winter it was usually canned fruits, jams, or pickled veggies. sigrid greeted them with big hugs and jan immediately presented two very small jars of “blackberry jam! i got just enough off of that bush at the back.”

“i thought it had died!” even exclaimed, the genuine shock and delight at the gift lifting his voice.

“it’s definitely on its last legs…uh, roots.”

“he was out there every day scouring the brambles.” sigrid shook her head but she was clearly proud of his efforts. then she took isak’s hand and pulled him to the kitchen. even and jan went to the tall closet at the back of the living room where jan stored his jars. “you both look so cozy today. remind me to take a picture later.” she brought him to the stove where she had two large pots simmering. she pointed to one. “i need you to blend that while i get this bread finished.”

“what is it?”

“that’s butternut squash, and this…is a ministrone. kind of. i’ve taken some liberties.”

isak picked up the immersion blender that was sitting next to the stove. sigrid had gotten it started but it was still chunky in spots. while he stood there and mixed the soup she sliced a loaf of bread and laid it out on a baking tray. each slice got a thick spread of butter. isak stepped to the side so she could open the oven and slide the tray in for a quick broil.

she flicked her eyes toward the living room and then leaned toward isak’s chest. “how has he been?”

sigrid asked this question every time they were together. isak had thought it was just general curiosity about the new relationship, but once isak revealed that to even he had rolled his eyes. she was asking isak because it was the nervous curiosity that even had tried to distance himself from years ago. eventually he told his mother to stop using isak to get answers about her own son. that turned into an argument where sigrid nearly started crying about how even wouldn't answer her so she had no choice. she excused herself from the table and jan was left to host the boys through the rest of a very quiet dinner.

at this point isak was comfortable pushing back to defend even’s boundary. “sigrid, you know i’m not going to speak for him. how’s this, is it smooth enough?”

she glanced into the pot. “yes, that looks good.” isak’s deflection seemed to work. “now grab some bowls from the shelf for me please. thank goodness he found a tall one to bring home,” she muttered to herself. isak blushed but easily picked four bowls from up high.

even and jan came to the kitchen shortly after, with jan still talking as they headed to the table. isak passed them the silverware and glasses to set out at each seat. then he helped sigrid carry the pots to the table. before she sat down she dropped a kiss on the crown of even’s head. “how are you doing?” she asked as casually as she could as she moved to her chair. isak sat on the other side of the table, so the couples could look at each other directly. isak studied even as he answered.

“i’m fine, mamma. a little nervous about pappa’s grand scheme over here, but everything else is okay.” isak couldn’t hear any tension in his voice so he relaxed a little bit.

“oh, is he trying to get you on his side about buying a van?”

“how else will i transport my vegetables, sigrid?” jan sounded exasperated by her skepticism.

“dearest, you don’t even have the stall permit yet. don’t put the cart—excuse me, the van—before the horse.”

“catch me up?” isak requested of the table in general. jan gleefully started from the beginning with his grand plan to join the farmer’s market that summer, with the full list of his crops and ideas for clever names for his backyard farm.

most of dinner was spent discussing this great undertaking, with even contributing creative enthusiasm and sigrid sprinkling it all with caution and logic. then they pivoted to jan’s work at the office, and how he found his attention shifting so easily in the warmer months. jan and sigrid lived comfortably and were starting to entertain plans for retirement. that led to talking about the cabin, which turned into the perfect segue by the time they were clearing the table for dessert.

Isak fetched smaller plates from an even higher shelf, and even clapped when sigrid revealed his cake. it was a tall layer cake draped in swirls of light blue icing. there were six candles on top and even’s name written in a shaky, dark blue script. “do you remember that picture you put in the folder for me? the close-up of his face?” sigrid asked isak. he nodded. every few weeks he picked a photo (with even’s approval) from his phone and uploaded it as a wordless update for his parents. that one had been from early december, when they went out for lunch on a random tuesday, just to get some sunlight. “i zoomed in on his eyes and picked the blue color from there.” sigrid twisted to even and cupped his cheeks with her small hands. even leaned into the adoring gesture and those blue eyes crinkled up with a smile. they shared a silent moment of connection and then she released him to stand in front of her chair. isak stood up too. jan struck a match to light the candles.

even laughed and gamely clapped while they sang the birthday song. he watched isak spin around with a little flare, and isak genuinely enjoyed performing something he used to roll his eyes at. then even paused to make a wish and blew out the candles. isak knew he would ask him what he wished for later.

the cake was delicious, and they each had two slices. even tried to flick icing across the table at isak but sigrid threatened him with a spoon. “if you get icing on my wall you are cleaning it up, birthday boy.” even agreed to those terms and kept trying. then jan left the table for the bedroom, and returned by sliding a tall, skinny cardboard box through the kitchen. it had a blue bow stuck on top, which was enough, since it would’ve taken an obscene amount of wrapping paper to cover the whole thing.

“eh?” even stood to look at the box.

“happy birthday, dearest.” sigrid looked very proud of the gift and was enjoying even’s puzzlement. jan stepped back and let even walk around it. they had to hold it at the top so it wouldn’t fall over.

“it’s heavy….” even’s eyes scanned each side. “is…did you get me a bed?” he gripped the box to turn it around, showing sigrid and isak the diagram on the other side. it was, in fact, a bed. “thank you,” even whispered, without much conviction.

“it looks like a nice bed,” isak added, coming around the table to look at the dimensions. “we can get the guys to help us carry it upstairs.”

“oh no! no!” sigrid nearly yelled. “it’s not for—it’s for the cabin. you don’t have to carry it anywhere. pappa and i will take it up on our next trip and build it in your room, so now you’ll have a proper bed for when you and isak visit. i didn’t want those flimsy beds from when you were a kid stopping you from staying in ålesund.”

even’s face relaxed as his mother explained and the bed made more sense. he leaned the box against the nearest counter edge and moved around it to give sigrid a hug. “thank you,” he said again, with actual gratitude. “that’s such a lovely gesture for the both of us.” he pressed a heavy kiss on sigrid’s cheek and isak saw her squeeze her eyes closed. she was going to cry. she let out a tiny gasp when even pulled back. he went to jan to give him a hug as well, and sigrid turned away from them to hide her tears. but isak stepped in and opened his arms for a hug as well, and she fell into his chest and let loose against his sweater.

“thank you, sigrid. that means so much to us.” he rubbed her back to calm her down. “let us know when you’d like a family vacation and we’ll try to clear our schedules for it, okay?” her blonde hair scratched at his chin as she nodded. isak knew it was a big promise, committing to a vacation with his boyfriend’s parents, but that seemed to be the least they could do since they bought them a bed. aside from the literal comfort they were providing, it felt like a grander statement since the gift would serve both of them. isak felt like it was his birthday too.

when even and his father separated, jan peeled off the bow and stuck it to even’s chest. they shared a low chuckle, and then jan slid the box back to the bedroom where it had been hiding. “you know, if we have a van, it will be a lot easier to transport this up there!” he sang as he left. isak let go of sigrid and spun into even’s arms. she plucked a napkin off the table to wipe at her tears while isak was crushed into a hug with the bow.

“we’ll keep the little mattresses, of course. you never know when elias and mutta and mikael want to come for a visit too. but yes, this will be a nicer frame for you both.”

“it’s such a thoughtful gift, mamma. thank you so much.”

“you know…i thought of it as soon as you came back from your first trip, when you brought back the clean sheets and blanket. it might’ve been presumptuous but if…if isak was having a nice time then i thought he might want to come back, and then i wanted it to be ready, and you two could have your own space.”

isak laughed as he pulled out of even’s hug. he kept to his side though, and wrapped an arm around even’s waist. “you were very right to presume. though i suspect i would’ve had a wonderful time even if i had to sleep on the floor.”

sigrid looked horrified when he suggested such a crime, but that just made even laugh. jan reappeared. “oh i forgot to bring these out.” he was carrying a colorful quilt and coordinating linens, also with a blue bow on top. even let go of isak to accept them, and both boys admired the pattern.

“pappa helped me pick those out. they were on sale after christmas. oh, and if you bring them back to the city to wash, you could just use them on your regular bed too. everything fits.” sigrid returned to her pleased homemaker attitude, with any remaining tears in her eyes only there out of pride. she’d surprised her son with a useful and enjoyable gift, that doubled as a reason for him to visit her at the cabin. it was a very successful birthday dinner.

―――

they enjoyed a little bit of champagne in the living room before they left, relaxing on the couches and catching up on the skiing gossip from sigrid and jan’s most recent trip. isak disclosed that he hasn’t skied since he was very young, which sent even giggling, picturing his boyfriend flying down the slopes. “this might be even better than my skateboarding fantasy.” luckily neither sigrid nor jan inquired further into what that fantasy actually was.

when isak noticed the time was getting close to seven he made the gentle suggestion to head home. sigrid and jan were happy to let them go, having enjoyed the whole bottle together and noting their earlier bedtime now that they were getting older. but she also demanded photos once they were standing, so isak took a few pictures of even with his parents and then jan took a few of isak and even alone. they had to brainstorm a way to take a picture of all four of them together, but then sigrid cleared a small space on the fireplace mantle to rest a phone. Even set the timer, they lined up with the boys in the middle, and they wrapped their arms around each other. they smiled.

after another round of hugs and kisses they bundled up and went home. isak carried the new linens in an oversized shopping tote over his shoulder. “that went well, yes?” isak looked over to see even nodding into his scarf. he pressed the button for their stop.

“it was really lovely. i had to, like, constantly remind my brain to not interpret what she was saying negatively, but that’s…what i’m supposed to be doing.” they stepped off the bus carefully, navigating the packed snow on the sidewalk. “maybe after a few more visits it will be less of a conscious effort. but even as it was, i enjoyed myself. i liked seeing you with my parents.”

“speaking of me with your parents, i kind of promised sigrid we would go on a family vacation with her to ålesund.”

isak could barely hear the chuckle underneath the scarf but it was there. “i think that was a given. that was the whole point of the bed. it was quite clever on mamma’s part.”

“mm,” isak agreed. “so we’ll have to start looking at our schedules. and now we have the weekend farmer’s market to take into account.”

even’s laugh was louder and drew his mouth up above the warm wool. “he really has leaned into his gardening in the last year, jesus. if you had asked me five years ago what hobby i thought my dad would pick up next, i never would’ve thought ‘fruits and vegetables.’”

“forget hobbies; he’s halfway to his own business.”

they approached their building. isak had his own key now, and he unlocked the first door for them.

“what are you thinking about?”

isak was thinking about the surprise that was waiting for them upstairs, feeling nervous that he didn’t have any texts with updates, even though he didn’t ask for any. but he quickly thought up a work excuse that would explain his distance. “um, how maybe someone from jakob’s team might be interested in profiling jan. has there been a surge of home gardens lately? what’s the process for joining a farmer’s market? how profitable is it to bring produce into the city from a farm versus urban, hyperlocal crops? what resources are there for farmers when it comes to direct-to-consumer sales?” he felt ridiculous spitting out these ideas because they were rushing out without a filter yet they sounded somewhat legitimate. he really should be putting these questions in a voice memo, but even was climbing the stairs in front of him and that was…well that took priority.

the bag of linens landed with a light thump on top of isak’s pile of shoes. they removed their outerwear slowly as they climbed, hanging everything back up. isak listened for noises but didn’t hear anything over the shuffle of their own clothes. there wasn’t any light coming through under the door. and even—even was still undressing. isak reached up and tugged at his belt. “what are you doing?” he hissed. even threw his sweater and undershirt over his shoulder, and they skimmed isak’s head as they fluttered down the steps.

“getting naked. wanna help?” even was still climbing and his hands were at his belt buckle.

“even, no!” isak was torn between holding his boyfriend back and trying to reach for his shirt, while also not pulling them both down the stairs.

“what…what’s going on? you love when i get naked.”

isak blushed, praying whoever was on the other side of the door was far enough away to not hear them. maybe they were hanging out in the living room. even undid his belt but he did stop climbing to look at isak.

“do you want me to blow you down there?” he pointed down to the graffiti door and isak was going to melt from the flames burning his neck.

“shut up, no, just….” he stumbled down the steps to fetch the sweater and chucked it back up at even. “put this back on. we can’t be naked.”

“why not?” even was seriously confused but he did as isak asked. “we always get naked.”

isak pinched the bridge of his nose. “not tonight, okay babe?”

even dropped his sweater and his jaw. “is this…is this the first time you’re saying ‘no’ to a fuck?”

“even! i’m not—that’s not what this is. just please put your clothes back on until…until later or something.”

even reached into the pocket of his sagging pants and pulled out his phone. “i need to document this. for the record.” he snapped a photo of isak staring up at him with an annoyed look on his face. “this was the first time isak denied me.” even snorted. “it looks like you’re about to give me a very angry blowjob though.” he showed isak the photo.

if he weren’t so frustrated by the situation, isak would’ve laughed. that’s exactly what the photo looked like with that angle. unfortunately isak’s face just made even want to persuade him even more, so even tucked his phone under his chin and promptly shoved his pants down to his ankles. he was wearing bright red boxer briefs and he shook his ass in isak’s face. then, before isak could get a grip on his body, sexual or otherwise, even waddled up the few remaining steps and reached for the door. isak screamed, “NO!” at the same time as their kitchen, full of friends and coworkers, screamed “SURPRISE!” at a nearly naked even.

maja screamed, marius howled, and mikael took approximately 50 photos, the flash of his phone camera lighting up the kitchen like a red carpet. isak was so embarrassed he sank down behind even’s legs. even laughed and made no move to get dressed.

“pull up your motherfucking pants even! i came here for your birthday, not a peep show.” kari anne's booming voice had a hint of a laugh in it.

it did not occur to isak until just then that all of their friends were not just seeing even in his underwear—they were seeing even’s boner in his underwear. so despite isak’s desire to melt into a puddle right there on the steps, he now felt enough possessiveness to lunge forward and pull up even’s pants from behind. it was a challenge to dress someone blind, especially when that someone was a giggly, wriggly mess. isak got a flash of the kind of future where he was getting a toddler dressed, but he had no time for that future right then. he got even’s jeans up to his butt and then he had to forcibly turn his boyfriend around in order to navigate his bulge.

“looks like dinner with the parents went well, then!” elias shouted out, making everyone laugh again and isak’s cheeks turn an impossible red.

“oh, babe.” even finally noticed isak’s general struggle. he took over with his pants and hefted them up to his waist. “i’m sorry. i should have listened to you. but this was amazing and hilarious. are you okay?” he buttoned his jeans and cupped isak’s jaw.

isak was still too flustered to say anything. his eyes darted from even’s face to the gleeful faces behind him, checking to see who was still laughing. “come on, bedroom.” even started walking isak backward toward the privacy of their bedroom. “five minutes!” he announced to everyone else.

“i thought you only needed two!” someone else shouted back.

―――

the laughter and voices faded as soon as the door closed. isak spun around and flopped himself on the bed face first. “surprise,” he mumbled. even collapsed on top of him, blanketing him with rough denim and warm skin.

“this was the best surprise ever. i’m sorry i embarrassed you with my penis.” even added a little thrust as if that would convey sincerity. the heat that flushed isak’s cheeks now was a slightly different kind. even nuzzled his face against isak’s cheek and gave him a few kisses. “i’ll get dressed and we can hang out with my favorite people.”

even pushed up and went to the closet. he swapped out his jeans for grey sweatpants and put on a white t-shirt. isak kept his jeans but opted for a clean white t-shirt too. even swept isak into a hug before they went through the door. “i love you in general and i love you for this. thank you for such a nice gift, and the perfect way to relax after the family dinner.” he squeezed across isak’s back and then shifted his head in for a kiss. isak demanded tongue as part of even’s apology and he got it, a nice open, wet kiss that tasted like champagne. even grunted when they parted. “um, yes. friends first, but then we’re definitely revisiting the naked thing.”

isak agreed with an aggressive grip on even’s ass. even kissed his way out of it and wiggled toward the door.

the kitchen roared with another greeting when they appeared, birthday wishes thrown from every direction. even opened his arms and accepted all of them with a wide smile. “thank you all for coming. this is such a fun surprise, and i clearly had no idea.”

“it was a fun surprise for us as well,” kari anne smirked.

“since we’re all here and there is a grotesque amount of alcohol behind mutta, have we agreed to absolutely ruin our sunday night?” another cheer went up. isak moved around even to get to the counter by mutta.

as requested, everyone bought the alcohol isak had assigned them and paid for. he couldn’t bring much into the apartment on his own without raising suspicion, so he spread out the drinks, food, and decorations among their friends. maja and marius picked up a cake from a bakery on their side of town. mutta and kari anne brought most of the alcohol. sana and yousef brought food from mamma bakkoush, enough to last them at least a week. elias and mikael were on decorations & entertainment duty. their friends had started drinking, as was to be expected when you’re trapped in an apartment for a couple of hours. since everyone had helped themselves to the juice and ice in the fridge, isak didn’t bother with setting anything else up. he searched for sana in the small crowd, who was chatting with mikael by the entrance to the hallway. when he caught her eye he nodded a question and she held up a full glass in response. with her taken care of he mixed up a dark & stormy for even.

“here you go, babe.” he only interrupted even’s conversation with marius and maja to put the cup in his hand. then he went back to the counter to assess the food. yousef joined him to point out the options.

“all of even’s favorites. mamma didn’t leave the kitchen all morning. this…this tray is okay. these two should be reheated a bit.”

“okay, thanks.” isak reached over to start the oven.

“and this we actually eat cold sometimes, so it would be fine as is.”

they figured out the food and then isak moved on to the living room. everyone was still in the kitchen, so isak got to see the decoration efforts as intended. streamers looped colorfully from even’s shelves, carefully taped as to not disturb his toys. balloons hovered at the ceiling, their strings becoming vines that dusted isak’s shoulders. on the coffee table was a pile of markers and a large brown envelope. he went right to the envelope to see what was inside. “yesssss.” isak dumped out the contents and spread them out. he had found ten particularly embarrassing photos, a mix of recent shots from isak and childhood ones from sigrid, that he’d ordered temporary tattoos of. he had a good feeling that this group was going to get very creative with the placement. in the very least he knew exactly where he wanted a tattoo of even on his own body. he practically skipped back out to the kitchen to get water and a sponge.

everyone had started eating, so isak joined the queue for a little bit of the bakkoush cuisine. no matter how full they were, isak and even would always make room for mamma’s food. isak refreshed even’s drink and then led some people into the living room to eat, for more seating. even stayed in the kitchen at the table with sana, yousef, and kari anne.

maja screamed again when she saw the tattoos. she and marius abandoned their food immediately and took the sponge to the bathroom. three minutes later marius returned with at least four evens plastered across his face. then he dared mikael to do even more. after that, it was chaos.

elias tried to tie a balloon to the back of sana’s hijab. kari anne was the first one to get a tattoo of even on her ass cheek. mutta and mikael started doing shots, and marius and maja were caught making out in the stairwell when it was time to break open the markers on the door. their defense was that maja could stand on one step above marius and they would be a closer height for kissing.

“like my apartment is the only place with steps, get the fuck out.” isak shoved marius against the door. but that’s exactly where everyone stayed. they all shared the markers and wrote silly birthday messages to even on the door, reading old ones and laughing, and recording new jokes that they now all shared. the graffiti door was due for an update and everyone got a chance to leave their mark. isak made sure no one wrote over his original “shithead,” and he added a couple more questionable names wherever they fit.

unfortunately marius convinced maja to paint her lips with marker ink and kiss the door, but then she was stuck with deep purple lips. sana immediately dragged her up to the bathroom to start exfoliating. isak had to console maja from the doorway. “i’ll get emma to give me some lipsticks that would cover it up if it doesn’t come off.”

“matte,” sana instructed.

isak opened his recording app and noted that: “matte lipsticks from emma for maja.”

“anything from a maroon to a magenta should cover it up.” isak added that. “in the meantime, here, you can use this.” sana pulled a tube of lipstick out of her small crossbody bag and opened a drawer. she plucked an alcohol wipe from where even kept them next to the tweezers and cleaned off the tube and used lipstick. she handed it to maja and maja looked like she was about to cry from the gesture. sana nipped it in the bud with a glare and a single finger held up in maja’s face. “just be glad your friends are so clean.”

isak blushed, assuming sana knew that they had those wipes to clean their toys. but then marius burst into the bathroom, shoving isak aside. “baby, it looks like we just kissed too hard for a little bit. ‘cheer up! a hickey from kenickie is like a hallmark card,’” he quoted in his best american accent. this actually made maja cry so isak excused himself and went to get more alcohol.

eventually yousef was tasked with getting mutta and mikael home. marius gave maja a piggy back ride down four flights of stairs and across the city. they found kari anne had removed her pants and crawled into their bed, so they left her there. sana, even, and elias collapsed onto the couch and giggled their way through a nonsense conversation the way siblings do. isak put the food away, got water for them all, and then joined them on the floor with his giant pillows. even found grease on the tv and they watched and sang along with the few bits they knew. then isak fell asleep, his fingers wrapped lightly around even’s ankle and his head resting against even’s knee.

#magic eight ball #SO SORRY if the cut doesn't work #skam fic #kerrywrites #i swear to god i AM writing it's just taking me forever #and this could've been a lot longer but i'm not going to test tumblr's patience with that

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mcwriting · 3 years

Text

The Marriage Project (9)

I’m back with anotha one! Sorry it’s taken so ridiculously long! I’ve been soooo busy that sitting down and writing or even formatting has been such a challenge. Please enjoy this chapter!

*also i watched Cherry and Tom was so good in it I’m- that film messed me up a lil bit but like it was so good. Also I’ve loved Ciara since btr and now I’m just insanely jealous and love her even more ugh

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2333

Warnings: Some language? I can’t think of anything else

% approximately the 3rd week of October %

Friday evening, the volleyball team arrived at the town regionals were being held at, about an hour away. You were staying in a hotel again, and as before, Julia was your buddy.

After having spent the evening laughing and having fun, your whole hotel room group was about to head up the stairs.

“Hey, y/n. Do you mind staying back for a minute?” Julia asked.

“Oh, sure. We’ll meet you guys upstairs,” you called to the other two, who waved back nonchalantly and continued walking. Julia and you went back to some empty seats near the lobby.

“What’s up?” you asked, smiling.

“Well… Sam told me he caught you and Tom yesterday and I just wanted to ask you about it…”

Your smile faltered.

“What’s there to talk about? I told him that Tom sprayed me with water so I got back at him by soaking the back of his shirt. There’s nothing more to say.”

“Well, yeah, he told me that but he also mentioned that you stayed for dinner? And met Nikki’s parents last weekend? Not trying to imply anything, but I didn’t meet their grandparents until Sam and I had been dating for like 6 months.”

You were getting annoyed, considering this was the second person in two days to ask you about Tom.

“I didn’t just meet them over nothing! Nikki took my senior pictures at the same time as Tom’s and wanted to do them there. I was just tagging along for the ride.”

“You know he’s also coming to state next weekend, right? If we pass through tomorrow?”

He is?

“Uh, no I didn’t. Doesn’t he have football stuff to worry about? It’s also Halloween next weekend, like he’d miss out on the big party.”

“They have a bye next week. Sam is going to come and I guess Tom is taking him, but Nikki might come too? I’m not sure. I guess you’d better ask him. Anyways, I just wanted to clear things up since there were all those rumors today,” she said, starting to get up.

“Wait, wai- Rumors? I never heard anything. Like about me?”

“You haven’t heard? I guess one of the freshman girls who has a massive crush on Tom was stalking Nikki’s website last night and saw some pictures of the two of you. A bunch of people think you’re dating now.”

You felt yourself pale.

“Oh no, and she changed one picture after Tom asked her to. Do you know what the picture was?”

“Something about him carrying you..? I never saw it, why?”

“Great. Now everyone is going to think she changed it because a secret got out or something. Ughhhh I just wish this stupid marriage project had never happened and I would never be in this mess.”

Julia looked at you contemplatively for a moment.

“Think of it this way, you and Tom are friends now, right?” you apprehensively nodded. “If it weren’t for that project, you two would still be fighting all the time and you wouldn’t have had the incredible Nikki Holland taking your pictures. Everyone can just get over themselves, you know?”

You snorted, then grinned.

“Yeah I guess so. You know, you’re annoyingly wise beyond your years,” you stated. “Now let’s get back upstairs. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Placing first at regionals meant two things: you were going to state, and everyone was congratulating you again when Monday came.

They also kinda looked at you funny when Tom high fived you in the hallway as he passed by, but you had decided to follow Julia’s advice and stop caring about the rumors people were spreading.

Once the morning announcements ended, your calculus teacher stood up, a small paper stack in hand.

“Okay, everyone, since I’m your first period teacher and homecoming is next week, today you get to cast your nomination votes. Y’all know the drill: three guys, three girls for king and queen. Try to make it fast, we have a lot to do today.”

She walked around handing out half-sheets of paper with six lines on them. You and Tom immediately looked at each other.

“We nominating each other?” Tom asked before you could.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you joked, filling out the sheet with both of your names and four others.

In home ec, you sat next to Tom cutting fabric for yet another project you had to do together, thinking about something Julia had mentioned.

“Hey, I gotta ask you something. Is it true you’re going to the capital this weekend for our state tournament?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah. This is our bye week and I promised Sam I’d go with him and mom. Plus, we can work on the project when you’re free.”

“You do realize that’s like a four hour drive, right? I mean it’s Halloween this weekend. Wouldn’t you rather make an appearance at Johnny’s big blowout?”

“Eh, it won’t be that great. I mean his place isn’t even that big and it’s in town. There’s literally no way it won’t get busted within the first half hour. The homecoming party at Tyler’s however… that’s gonna be insane.”

“Okay Johnny’s trash party aside, you really would rather spend your one free weekend of the season four hours away watching girls play volleyball then at home doing… whatever it is you do. And please don’t tell me you watch the ‘hub in your spare time.”

“Come on, y/n I’m not an animal. Even without the tight uniforms volleyball is really cool.”

You backhanded his arm at the comment.

“Plus, I don’t need any videos to get myself off,” he added, smirking.

“You disgust me.”

“You know you love me.”

“Hmm. Debatable,” you shot back dryly, earning a chuckle and shoulder bump from him as you finally cracked.

At lunch, your friends were discussing the Halloween party when you sat down.

“Okay we really need to figure out what to wear this weekend, and we’re not going as playboy bunnies like Daisy and all her group,” said one girl.

“Well I say we dress as frat boys. It’s funny, not super sexual, and we all know half the guys are going to rush next year,” suggested Caroline.

“I like it, but what if we went a step further and dressed as dads. You know, hawaiian shirts, khaki shorts, socks and sandals. That would be hilarious. What do you think, y/n?” said Alexis.

“Sorry ladies, I won’t be there. We have state this weekend at the capital so as always, we’re driving down Friday after school. I will be at Tyler’s homecoming thing next weekend. Also, I do really like the dad thing, but I vote y’all do Guy Fieri.”

“Wait why is that literally genius,” Alexis said as the others agreed. “Of course it would suck to take your idea without you even getting to do it.”

“You guys really think I care? Just credit me in your insta captions. I’ll make the team put ribbons with flames on them in their ponytails Saturday.”

“Okay now we have to do it,” a different friend said.

“Hey, at least you won’t have to worry about Tom. I’m sure he’ll be at the party,” Caroline said. You wrinkled your nose.

“Yeah about that… His brother’s girlfriend is on the team so he’s going, too. I’m the one that’ll be seeing him instead of you guys but whatever. We’ll need to work on our project anyways.”

“Don’t you think that’ll fuel the fires people are already spreading about you? A good portion of the school thinks you’re secretly together now,” added the first friend from before.

“People are going to believe whatever the hell they want. I honestly don’t care anymore. Oh! By the way, did I tell you guys that some freshman was the one spreading shit about me Friday? The nerve those kids have,” you said.

“Wait, what? It was a freshman that was trying to tell everyone y’all are together? Ugh why would anyone believe them?” Alexis asked, incredulous.

“I know, right? Apparently she’s like obsessed with Tom or something. She must have a backwards way of thinking if she believes spreading fake rumors will make him want her. Jokes on her when she has to see us together on homecoming court. He’s just as likely to be voted as I am, maybe even more.”

The group all laughed and continued talking about random things, and you mentally wiped the sweat from your brow now that the conversation was shifted from you and Tom.

You were nervously bouncing your leg before calculus Friday morning. You’d gotten to school early to make certain you would be there for the announcements, which is when they would be releasing the list of nominees.

Tom came in a couple minutes before the bell, hair still wet from his post workout shower. Usually he blow dried it, and he obviously noticed you looking at his curls, your knee bouncing anxiously.

“Got out of the weight room late so I rushed over here. What are you wired up about, princess?”

“Do I really have to tell you? Homecoming noms.”

“You’re actually nervous about that? Everyone knows you’re already at the top of the list.”

“Uh, no, that’s you. After everything that’s happened the past few weeks, there’s no telling how people feel about me.”

“Oh you’ll be fine. I know it,” Tom finished. You wanted to disagree with him further, but then the bell rang and announcements began. After the general daily stuff, they got to the part everyone was waiting for.

You were on the edge of your seat. The disembodied voice began with the underclassmen’s court nominations, eventually working up to the senior king contestants.

“Alright, first up in the running for kings we have… Tuwaine Barrett!”

Tuwaine was a cool dude. He played basketball and was in theatre. You were happy to see him nominated.

“Next up we’ve got Harrison Osterfield!”

Ugh. I’d rather abdicate the throne than end up against him.

“And finally for the boys, Tom Holland!”

A small cheer went up in your classroom as people congratulated Tom and patted him on the back. You gave him a high five.

“And now for the ladies. First on the list is Zendaya Coleman!”

Ah Zendaya. You were never that close, but she was always nice when you’d had classes with her. She was way taller than you, a star player on the basketball and softball teams. Not to mention she was insanely gorgeous. This was already some stiff competition.

“Second, we have Daisy Ridley!”

And of course another likely contender. Daisy, who was planning on going to that evening’s Halloween party as a playboy bunny, was a cheerleader. She didn’t fit every aspect of the cheer stereotype, like the fact that she was actually really smart, but she definitely wasn’t the nicest person either.

“And finally, your last nominee for homecoming queen is… y/n y/l/n!”

It took a second to fully process that it was you they were talking about until there were people cheering you on like they’d done for Tom. He reciprocated the high five.

“What’d I tell you princess? Or shall I say queen.”

Tom was leaving football practice after the bell when a few of his buddies appeared next to him to walk across the parking lot.

They were talking when Tom saw you all loading the bus, and you sent each other a wave.

“Damn, y/n’s not gonna be at the party tonight? That’s rough, she always has the dopest costumes. ‘Least you will. What are you going as?” one guy, Jake, said.

“Did I not tell you? I’m going out of town. Won’t be there. I totally would’ve been Spider-Man though,” Tom explained.

“Wait you won’t be there tonight either?” another, Chris, asked. “You’re gonna miss out on some major exposure for homecoming votes.”

“Oh yeah, right. I’m pretty sure things are in the bag for me. I’ll just be gone tonight and tomorrow. Promised Sam I’d go to the volleyball thing with him.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You. Are going to the capital. Which is four hours away. At the same time as y/n. Am I hearing this right?” Jake asked as they finally reached their cars.

“Oh shut up, man. It’s not like that. Yeah we’ll be at the same place this weekend but whatever. We’re cool with each other now.”

“Cool? Is that code for ‘I want to make out every time I look at her?’” interjected Chris. He and Jake gave each other a look and laughed.

“Ugh, no. I’d kiss a salmon before I kissed y/n. I just meant we’ve come to an understanding and are somewhat friends now.”

They both looked at him funny.

“So you mean to tell me that there’s nothing going on between you two? Yeah right. We’ve all seen the way you look at her at games,” Jake said suggestively.

“What is up with you and everyone else at this school thinking there’s more to the story?! We are fake married for a school project and are nothing more than friends. You’re crazy to think otherwise.”

“Who are you planning on asking to the dance?” Chris asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“What? What do you mean? I haven’t even thought about it.”

“I’m asking who you’ll take to homecoming. It’s y/n, isn’t it?”

“No. No, it’s not, because I haven’t asked anyone.”

“Would you go with her?” Chris continued, pressing in.

“I mean I guess so. If we’re voted king and queen then it’ll basically be an obligation.”

“And if you’re not?”

“Dude why are you asking all these questions! If she isn’t queen then I’ll go with whoever is. If I’m not king, I’ll just go solo and see what happens. Whatever, though, I need to get home. I’ll see you guys Monday,” Tom finished.

He walked off to his car, where his brothers were impatiently waiting.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Again, sorry for my inactivity but I’m hoping that writing will be a little easier as one of my classes was a half semester and I’ll now have a little more buffer room to write!

My asks and messages are always open!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads, @justafangirlduh,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #sam holland

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erinxneil · 4 years

Text

22: “Sorry we are late, we were totally not having sex.”

Thank you so much for suggesting this @mortallythoughtfulgurl ! It made me super happy to see that you enjoyed my previous post enough to suggest a specific number! I plan to do all of the prompts on the list, however if there are any specific numbers that you’d like me to do sooner then simply send me a request and I will do so! These prompts are all from the list here.

masterlist

TW: Mentions of Reid’s prior drug problem, mentions of family death.

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Summary: Spencer doesn’t quite understand the concept of being subtle.

>>>These are all basically one-shots! This doesn’t follow the story line as the last post that I made, however I may do a series soon :)

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I smiled as I packed away my things. Not only had the team just solved another successful case.

I, myself had managed to save the victim, as I was able to talk down the unsub simply by using my words. I did this as I understood what the unsub was going through. While, of course, resorting to murder and becoming a serial killer isn’t exactly the first thing that I did after discovering that my sister had been murdered, although I was able to empathize with the killer and thus convince him that murdering a girl who bared resemblance to his kin would not revive her.

I felt my smile droop the faintest bit. While the victory of a successful case made me feel like rejoicing, this case had brought up poor memories. I shrugged them off and headed for the door.

“Hey, Y/N!” JJ called out. I turned around slowly, eyebrow perked in question. “You coming out tonight? We thought we’d head out for some drinks.”

I offered her a tight smile. “Not tonight, guys, sorry.”

Spencer coughed. “Yeah, me neither, I’m not really feeling it.”

Emily frowned. “Reid, didn’t you just say that you we-”

He coughed again. “Yeah. Changed my mind. I’m not feeling well. Is that a problem, Emily?” Spencer cocked an eyebrow in challenge, as if trying to be intimidating. I chuckled a little. While Spencer could be intimidating as hell during cases, such as during interrogations, we all know that he would never do anything that could remotely harm us. However, his sass was welcomed and quite amusing.

I turned. “Well, goodnight, friends. See you tomorrow.” Before I could take even more than three steps, my name was called again.

“Wait, Y/N! You took an Uber here, right?” I blinked. Oh, right, I had completely forgotten about that. I had known we would be leaving the state for a few days for the case, and didn’t want to leave my car here. How did Reid remember that, yet I didn’t? Spencer disrupted my thoughts again. “Well- uh, I could give you a ride. If you’d like.” I quirked an eyebrow at how fidgety he was being.

“Alright, lover-boy, lead the way.” His cheeks tinged at the nickname. It was admittedly quite cute, however he quickly ducked his head and lead me to the car, shielding his face with his hair so that I would be unable to see his blush.

-*-*-*-*-*-

We drove in relative silence for a majority of the car ride. Although surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward. As the case hit me harder than I expected, I welcomed the silence, and was thankful that Spencer didn’t force any conversation between us.

“It’s just the left up ahead.” I muttered quietly. Reid bit the inside of his cheek, eyes remaining focused on the road ahead of him. I blinked as he drove completely past the turn. “Uh, you missed it.” I chuckled nervously.

“I’m not taking you home.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Reid, I hope you don’t plan on kidnapping me. For a profiler, you should know that considering you were the one to give me a ride home, everyone at the BAU saw me get into your car, which would make you a prime suspect.” He smiled softly. “I’m not kidnapping you, Y/N, I just wanted to show you something.”

I furrowed my eyebrows but didn’t question him further until we pulled up on the top of a cliff.

“Woah.” I murmured, admiring the beautiful landscape before me. In the distance, snowy mountaintops scattered the planes, with ashy planes and various kinds of trees. It was the type of image that you would find as a laptop screen background, one that you never imagined you would see in person.

“Where are we?” I questioned. When I wasn’t met with an answer, I turned to glance at Spencer, who jumped in surprise at me looking at him. He blinked abruptly, as if being taken out of a trance.

“This is called Possum Point- or, at least, a crook of it. I come here often when I feel particularly struck by cases that we have.” I smiled. “It’s beautiful. However, I don’t really understand why you’re showing me this.”

Spencer unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car, before moving to my door and opening it for me. He then sat on the hood of the car and patted the spot beside him with a grin. I sat, and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Come on, Y/N, I’m a profiler, you can’t really suppose that I didn’t notice that you took this case personally?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “So what?”

Reid shrugged. “I just figured you’d want someone to talk to. Or at least, I wanted you to know that there’s someone available to listen, if you’re willing.” The corner of my lip tugged upwards. In the moonlight, the features of the man next to me seemed ever the more beautiful. He held direct eye-contact, something that was rare for Spencer, and therefore I knew how genuinely he wanted to comfort me. His delicate features were something I had never really taken notice of before. Before, he was simply Reid. The brainiac agent- sorry, Doctor- whom you happened to work beside. Now, not only did you acknowledge the beauty of his facial structure, you also understood that there was more to him than useless facts and magic tricks. He held compassion that he was willing to offer you.

“Y/N?” His soft voice broke me from my thoughts. In the process of admiring him, you had completely forgotten that he was speaking to you. You sighed.

“I just understand the pain and anger that Homer was feeling. I mean, obviously murder isn’t a reasonable reaction. However, I can understand being angry at the world and wanting to make others feel the pain that you do.” I frowned. “When my sister died, I was in a dark place, and often took out my anger on the people who cared about me, because I didn’t understand how they were allowed to continue living their lives being happy, while my sister wasn’t able to even continue living.”

Spencer wrapped an arm around my shoulder and gently rubbed my arm. “I can’t even imagine how that must have felt. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. Having people all around you but still feeling entirely alone...” His voice trailed off softly. This reminded you that he said he himself comes often when cases cut him too deeply.

“Spencer, what kinds of cases cause you to come out here to reflect?”

“Usually when we have cases focused on unsubs with a drug addiction.” Reid muttered. My eyebrows raised in surprise. I had heard office chatter of rumors of a drug addiction that Reid had battled alone a year or two prior to your arrival at the BAU, although you always took them with a grain of salt, as you hadn’t heard it straight from his mouth. However, it appears that now, you could confirm your suspicions.

You offered him a faint smile. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to it about, or you’d simply like some company on this cliff as well, I’d be more than happy to abide. I feel much better than I did when we left the office.”

Reid met my smile with a grin. “Glad to be of service.”

-*-*-*-*-*-

The next day at work, I could tell that the dynamic between Spencer and I had been altered. Usually, we simply worked beside each other, sparing words of encouragement every now an then. However, after that night, we stole glances, smiled at each other, and often conversed on the jet. We eventually began having lunch together. Spencer would buy me coffee on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I bought it for him on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. We knew each other's orders- I took mine black, while his required as much sugar was available.

Weeks went by, and we only drew closer.

“Alright everyone, remember, dinner tonight at Jose’s Diner! We’re celebrating the release of Rossi’s newest book!” JJ explained to the team as we prepared to leave for the day. “You are to arrive at 8 PM sharp, if you’re late you better have a really good excuse!”

I grinned at JJ’s scolding. While we all knew that she wouldn’t be able to do anything to us, she’s quite terrifying when she’s angry, so I doubted that anyone would dare to arrive a minute after 8:00. I began to head for the door when I was stopped by a nervous Spencer.

“Hey, Y/N, could I give you a ride home?” I grinned. “Of course, Spence.”

When we arrived, I glanced at him expectantly. “So, I suppose you had a reason for offering to drive me home, other than the obvious of course, of you simply enjoying my company.” I smiled coyly, and he scratched the back of his neck anxiously.

“Y/N,” he began slowly, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night on the cliff.” I blinked in surprise, but stayed silent, allowing him to continue. “You’re beautiful, inside and out. You’ve seen me for who I am and it’s like the more time I spend with you, the longer I want to. I’m not quite sure what this feeling is, or what to do about it, but-”

I cut off his rant by planting my lips on his, one hand on the side of his jaw. He froze at first, taken by surprise, however he quickly melted into the kiss and responded. Pulling away for a moment, he smirked, “So I suppose that you feel the same?”

I rolled my eyes in amusement. “Just shut up and kiss me.” I pulled him closer again by the collar of his shirt, and he returned with no protest.

-*-*-*-*-*-

I smoothed out my dress quickly and checked my makeup one last time in the car mirror before turning to Spencer with a smile. It was 8:24. “Alright, we lost track of time a little bit so we don’t have as much time to debrief as I’d like. Remember, just for now, we are keeping this to ourselves. We haven’t even necessarily discussed this between ourselves yet, therefore there is no reason to involve our coworkers right now. You happened to be giving me a ride when your car broke down. Understood?”

Spencer nodded. “Understood.”

“Are you sure?” “I’m sure. Completely understood.”

We walked into the building together and stood next to our coworkers table. All of their eyes lifted to us expectantly. I opened my mouth to give an explanation, however Spencer beat me to it.

“Sorry we are late. We were totally not having sex.”

I blinked. Reid blinked. Our coworkers blinked. The waitress blinked. The table beside us blinked. The clock on the wall blinked.

I sighed. “Well, so much for secrecy.”

-*-*-*-*-*-

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temilyrights · 3 years

Text

every bit of sunshine

Summary: Jack Sloane x Reader. It was meant to be casual. You weren’t meant to develop feelings, and you definitely weren’t meant to fall in love, and yet you do and now you’re too weak to put a stop to it. You need her and you’ll pretend she needs you to.

A/N: A little shorter and a little different than my normal fics. Fluff, angst, and heavily implied smut. As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated :) Enjoy!

Read on AO3

The first time it happens you’re both drunk out of your minds. It’s quick and it’s hot and when you leave Jack’s house that night you can’t quite look her in the eye. Monday morning comes around and she’s the same as always, acting like it never happened, so you do the same.

Two weeks later it happens again. The case had hit too close to home and you just needed to feel something. You’d turned up on her doorstep and she had taken one look at you and understood. Neither of you discusses it afterwards.

The third time it happens it’s Jack who turns up on your doorstep. It’s the anniversary of Afghanistan and she needed an escape. You don’t question it, just pull her into your apartment and let her pin you up against the wall.

It just becomes this unspoken thing between the two of you. Something in the dark of night to escape your demons.

It’s nearly three months in, the first time you wake up beside one another. It’s not planned, but it’d been a long day and by the time you’d gone three rounds, Jack had fallen back into your bed, mumbling something about moving in a moment and the next thing you know it’s morning. Her light snoring is what wakes you, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing. It’s loud enough that it stirs her.

“Whatcha laughing about?” She mumbles, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“You snore.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Sure.” You smirk, eyes dancing with humour as she grumbles.

“What’s the time?” She asks, moving to sit up. The sheets fall down her body, revealing her bare chest and your eyes linger, looking at the skin you’d spent the previous night exploring. There are still a few marks and you smile smugly to yourself.

She turns to look at you, her lips tugging into a smirk when she catches you staring. “Time?” She prompts again.

You roll your eyes, but rollover to grab your phone from the side table anyway. The screen lights up and you sigh, “Six.”

“Just enough time to get home and shower before work then.” She leans over, placing a kiss to your cheek before making her way out of the bed and in the direction of the bathroom, picking her clothes up along the way. Your eyes trail after her, and when she disappears down the hallway there’s a slight ache in your chest that you quickly stamp down and ignore.

The next time you’ve barely come down from your high when she’s rolling out of bed, already searching for her clothes that you’d littered around the room. You sit up slightly, pulling the covers up to cover yourself as you admire her naked form. Jack notices you staring and shoots you a devilish smirk, eyebrows raised. “Enjoying yourself?”

You hum. “Be a lot better if you got back in this bed.” Her smirk drops from her face and she looks away.

“I can’t. Poker night at Leon’s.” She looks at her phone. “Which I’m going to be late for if I don’t hurry.” She clasps her bra up, before sliding the t-shirt over her head. It shouldn’t hurt this much. You know that’s not what this is. It’s sex. Just sex.

You slide out of bed, put on your dressing gown and head to your kitchen grabbing yourself a cold glass of water. You’re just finishing it when Jack enters, now fully dressed. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

You nod. “Have a good evening.” She looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. The energy in the room is a little off compared to normal.

You offer a smile and that seems to please her as she offers one back. Her eyes go to her phone. “Shit! Now I’m really going to be late.” She smiles back at you before quickly making her exit and you don’t move until you hear the front door shut.

A sour taste fills your mouth, and you release a deep sigh as you try to push the ache in your chest away. You knew you needed to stop this before the feelings you were desperately trying to ignore took control...but you couldn’t. You needed her. You enjoyed the moments where she’d stay a little longer too much. You held onto them and tried to bury the dirty feeling that settled through your body the times she was out the door as soon as possible. It felt worse knowing that she had plans straight afterwards, reminding you of the secret you are to her.

You head back to your bedroom but stop in the doorway. The smell of sex still fills the room and when your eyes find the messy sheets you just turn back around, the couch it was tonight.

Three days later she’s back in your bed. You’re softer than normal, taking your time to trail kisses over her body and watching her squirm beneath you with frustrated whines.

“I swear to god, Y/N.” She whines seconds before you nip at her thigh and she moans.

She’s louder that night and you take satisfaction from it, but when it’s your turn and she flips you over and captures your lips with a hungry kiss your heart drops.

It was just sex. Just sex. You try to remind yourself. Nothing more. It couldn’t be more because she doesn’t want more.

Jack notices your change in mood and instantly stops, sitting back in your lap, her fingers gently stroke your cheek. “Everything okay? Do you want to stop?”

And you don’t. You really really don’t, but you think that means you should. “I don’t know.”

“We’ll stop.” She says but doesn’t remove herself from your lap as she continues stroking your cheek, her eyes filled with concern. “But are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think I’m just tired. It’s been a long day and I’m a little worn out.” You force a smile to your face that she sees straight through, but instead of pushing she rolls herself off your lap. You expect her to get out of bed and grab her clothes but instead she lies down beside you.

“I know the case today was difficult.”

You shrug, “Not harder than any other. Just frustrating. I wanna catch this guy.”

“You will.” She hums, her voice full of such conviction that you can’t help but smile.

She snuggles into the pillow, her blonde hair splayed out on it and you know it’s going to smell like her once she leaves. “Comfortable?” You laugh.

“Very.” Her eyes fall close and it’s then you realise she’s not planning on leaving. Your heart thumps in your chest but instead of commenting on it you get comfortable and let your eyes fall close. It doesn’t take you long to drift off to sleep.

You wake up in the middle of the night and find yourself wrapped up in her arms. You smile sleepily to yourself before falling back to sleep.

In the morning, she’s gone.

You try to keep your distance after that, but it only lasts four days before there’s a particularly bad case and you crave her. You need her. Need the comfort, the distraction, the care.

She tries to get you to talk when you turn up at her place, but you keep distracting her with kisses and she quickly gets the hint. That night she’s the one that’s soft with you, and you’re the one quickly fleeing the house afterwards.

Neither of you can stay away from the other. What was originally two weeks, had quickly turned to one week and now it was practically every other day. It wasn’t just about escaping the demons, it was more. Your composure was dropping at work, you found yourself reaching out more, and smiling brightly at her, and dropping off surprise coffees…and you knew, you knew, you needed to stop.

The team was going to suspect something if you couldn’t get control of yourself. Your eyes kept trailing after her whenever she left a room and Ellie was beginning to shoot you curious looks. You couldn’t have them finding out because it would destroy the thing between the two of you. It was one of the only rules the two of you had - no one can find out. The other was about there always being complete professionalism at work.

Two weeks later it finally comes to a head. You enter Jack’s office to find Ellie pushing Jack for information about her date and it feels like someone has stabbed you in the chest.

There’s a dress hanging up in her office, and it’s beautiful and you know she will look absolutely amazing in it. But she wasn’t dressing up for you. She was dressing up for them.

You clear your throat, earning you the attention of both women. You completely avoid Jack’s eyes. “Uh, Gibbs has got a lead he wants us to check out.”

Ellie nods her head, looking back to Jack with a grin, “Hope the date goes well. I expect all the details tomorrow.”

She nods and you can feel her eyes burning into you, but you refuse to look in her direction as you follow Ellie out of the room.

You had to end it. You couldn’t do it. Having half of her wasn’t enough.

You text her when you get home that evening. It’s later than normal, nearly 10 o’clock. It’s a short text but it gets your point across without disclosing any of what you’re feeling.

I don’t want to do this anymore. I think we should go back to just being friends.

Barely five minutes have passed before she phones you, and you answer with dread in your stomach.

“Over text? You’re ending us over text.” You can hear the anger and pain in her voice and your eyes fall close as you sigh.

“There isn’t an ‘us’ Jack. There never has been. We had an arrangement and I'm voiding it.”

“Just like that?” She huffs.

“Just like that.”

There’s a knock at your door which you ignore, but then another, more insistent knock sounds, and you sigh. “Look I’ve got to go; I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

You don’t wait for her response as you hang up and make your way to the door. Your jaw drops in shock when you open it and reveal Jack standing on the other side, eyes brewing with tears and in the dress she wore to her date.

She was breathtaking.

“What if I don’t want to stop?”

“Were you standing outside my house?” You frown.

“I was already on my way over when your text came through. I didn’t go on the date. I got ready, I drove there and then I sat in my car for twenty minutes before driving away because I couldn’t do it. I want you. I love you.”

You forget how to breathe for a moment. “You didn’t go on the date?”

She shakes her head, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I never even wanted to go. Leon’s been pushing me to meet up with his friend for months though and I finally accepted because it was that or confess to him that I couldn’t because I was in love with you.”

You chuckle as your own tears break free. She steps closer, pulling you into her, her fingers softly drawing patterns on your lower back.

“You love me?”

“So much.”

“I love you too. I thought you didn’t feel the same way.”

“I’ve wanted this from the beginning. I was drunk but I knew what I wanted. You left in the middle of the night though and I thought you regretted it.”

“I was confused.” You shake your head, “but you always leave so quickly afterwards.”

“I couldn’t let myself fall any harder.” She huffs, “Obviously that didn’t work, but leaving meant you didn’t kick me out and I could pretend I wasn’t in way over my head.”

“I could never have kicked you out. I craved every moment I spent with you.” Your hands trail up her arms and you softly stroke a strand of hair from her face.

“Let me take you on a proper date. We’ll go to dinner and spend an evening together and I’ll walk you home and kiss you on the cheek and I won’t come in, even though I want to. I’ll go home instead and then text you an hour later because It was so amazing and ask you out again.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes at her proposal. “Yes, to dinner, but if you play your cards right, I’ll invite you in and spend the evening making you know just how much I love you.”

She smiles softly and leans in and kisses you. It’s soft and careful and a complete contrast to all the other kisses the two of you have shared.

You don’t want her to leave. You don’t want to wait for another night.

“How about you come in and we’ll order some food and spend the remainder of our evening together because I really don’t want you to go home.”

She smiles and nods her head, “I’d like that. I’m paying thought, consider it our predate date.”

You laugh again and drag her into your apartment and shut the door behind you. She steps in close to you and kisses you again. Drawing back with a soft hum.

“What sort of food are you thinking?”

“Your choice.” You smile.

She grins and steps back. “I’ll go look at the takeout menus then.”

You watch her as she makes her way to the kitchen, and you can hear her digging through the draw you keep the menus in. You collapse back into your door and sigh, allowing the love and relief to fully encircle your heart and allowing all the pain and anguish to melt away.

“I’m thinking Indian. That work for you?” She calls from the kitchen.

“Sounds perfect.” You grin, pushing yourself off the door and making your way to the woman who owned your heart.

#jack sloane x reader #jack sloane #jacqueline sloane #reader-insert #ncis #fic #regal-roni #every bit of sunshine

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a-writes3 · 3 years

Note

Would you write a Fatin imagine where reader is babysitting fatin's brother or smtg and fatin comes home late from a party and they start talking and then later go on a date?

Babysitter (Fatin Jadmani x Reader)

I love this idea. Thank you for the request. This is not spell checked so there may be mistakes.

It was a Friday night and I had gotten a babysitting job from the rich family of Fatin Jadmani, the popular girl of my school. I had never really spoken to her but I had always found her beautiful as well as talented from a musical stand point. I respected her. Apparently her parents took their chance for a day night and when Fatin refused to watch her brother they turned to me to come and watch them for the night saying they were gonna get a hotel and spend the night. I didn’t exactly have staying the night in a mansion on my list of things to do but I’m not complaining about the situation. A lot of time had passed with cartoons, swimming and many other activities that the little boy had dragged me into. It was incredibly boring and exhausting at the same time. The boy had went to sleep fairly early though leaving me alone until the middle of the night when Fatin had decided to come home from some party that was being thrown by the football team to hook up with whatever girls were drunk enough. She came in quietly so I had decided not to say anything to her which caused her to jump at my presence on the couch in her living room.

“Shit!” She exclaimed and then sighed, rolling her eyes. “Jeez. You’re still here?”

“Well your parents won’t be home until tomorrow and I’m guessing they didn’t trust you’d be home all night.”

“I’ve seen you around school.” She says as she sat next to me on the couch.

It took everything in me not to stare at her in the revealing outfit she had been wearing but it became increasingly hard when she turned her body towards me to start a conversation, placing her elbow on the couch and resting her head in her hand. I snapped out of my thoughts when she continued her sentence.

“You’re always alone. Why is that?” I could tell she was genuinely curious as to why I didn’t have friends which I didn’t know if should take as a compliment.

“I don’t know. No one really wants to hang out with me. I mean I’m kind of an outcast.” I laugh slightly to ease my awkwardness but it wasn’t working.

“Hm.” She looks me up and down. “Do I make you nervous?” She questioned. Not intending to make me flustered but she just had a certain effect on me.

“Uh, No. I mean I just don’t really talk to new people, so.” I answer so she’d stop questioning me.

“My brother likes you. I can tell.”

“How so?”

“With every other babysitter he would torture them basically. Not listening,making a mess. Staying up all night just to get under their skin. Seeing as it’s practically spotless and he’s asleep I’d say he think you’re okay.” She gives me a smile which is the opposite of what I see at school. Showing a softer side of her in her house.

“Well I’m glad. He’s not too bad either.”

It goes silent for a little bit. I had found myself glancing at the girl beside me just to admire how she looked. She smirked before talking again.

“Want a drink? We’ve got a bunch of expensive alcohol and my parents won’t even know it’s gone.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to get me drunk to do who knows what.” I say gaining the tiniest bit of confidence.

“Well I know for a fact that if I wanted to sleep with you then I wouldn’t need to get you drunk for that at all.” She says knowingly. This made me increasingly more flustered, I felt my cheeks heat up with a dark blush. She just laughed at the effect she had on me before getting up and grabbing two glasses of what I presumed was an expensive Vodka. She handed me a glass. I muttered a small thank you.

“Why have we never spoken before?” She questions.

“For starters, You and your crowd aren’t really my people. Not to mention that you live in a place like this and I live in a tiny house in the suburbs. You’re a talented musician. You also look like that so.” I shrug. “And I’m just me.”

“Don’t say that. I’m sure you’re way more than you’re putting on.”

“Not really. This is it.” I feel the alcohol hitting my system.

“What’s your biggest fear?” Fatin asks me. To try and dig a little deeper into my personality.

“Do you want the deep answer or?”

“Both.”

“Well, I am terrified of clowns so probably that.” This answer earns a small giggle from Fatin which was music to my ears. “As for the deep answer, Dying alone. Not amounting to anything with someone I love.”

“What? You don’t have any romantic interests?”

I laugh. As if she was just joking. She frowned at my laugh but let me speak.

“Who would want to be with me? I don’t really have good qualities.”

“I’m sure you have plenty of great qualities.” She pauses. “You really need to stop getting down on yourself.”

“Well I’ve never been on a date or kissed. I’m 17 so I’ve kinda lost hope. I mean I’ve kinda figured I’m just not deserving of that kind of thing I guess. Why do you even care? On Monday you won’t even look in my direction.”

“That’s not true. I’m sure you deserve everything.” I look into her eyes and she genuinely means what she says. But I shake my head in disagreement which makes her sigh. “Let me prove it to you. Tomorrow when my parents get back, I’m taking you on a date. And don’t even think about saying no because I’ve seen the way you look at me. Not even just tonight but at school too. And by the way , I’ve definitely been looking in your direction. A lot actually.”

I smile at her words. But I don’t respond because to be honest I was kind of speechless at the fact that the most gorgeous human I’ve ever seen is asking me out on a date. She then speaks again, seeming a little nervous now. “Can I kiss you?” She asks looking directly into my eyes. I wanted to look away but her eyes were so captivating that I couldn’t.

After a few seconds I just nodded which she took as a yes. She leaned in and connected her lips with mine. Something about it just felt right as if it was fate or something. She was the first to pull away but still staring into my eyes. There was a shine in them. By now it’s 1 AM and we have been enjoying each other’s company, talking about random things in our lives but it was interrupted by Fatin’s parents walking through the door, surprising the both of us.

“What are you doing home?” Fatin asks them.

“We decided to just come home. The hotel sucked so. But y/n you’re welcome to stay here if you don’t want to leave this late.” Her moms says while looking at me. I nod and with that her parents headed up the stairs to their room.

We spent the rest of the night talking and ended up falling asleep on the couch with Fatin’s head on my shoulder. Everything felt peaceful.

#fatin jadmani #the wilds #fatin the wilds #the wilds imagines #fatin jadmani x reader #fatin jadmani imagines

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hale-13 · 3 years

Text

Engulfed

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 30(!!!) Prompt - Crying

It’s just all too much. Everything is too much. It’s been a year and Peter can’t stand to do anything but sit here on this roof and ruminate until his mind goes blank.

Words: 2146, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Roger Harrington

TW: Depression, Survivor’s Guilt

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Peter can I speak with you real quick?” Mr. Harrington called as the final bell of the day rang and students started abandoning the class in droves. Ned shared a commiserating look with him as he finished packing up his things and left the room; leaving Peter to approach Mr. Harrington’s desk nervously and stand in front of it, shifting his weight back and forth nervously. “Oh!” Mr. Harrington said, holding up his arms in surrender as he closed the door behind the last student. “You can relax, you aren’t in trouble!”

Peter let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and let some of the tension drain from him muscles. “I’m not?”

Harrington raised an eyebrow at him, “Have you done something to warrant being in trouble?”

“No!” Peter said, his voice breaking a little on the end. “No sir!”

His teacher gave him a suspicious look but didn’t push it, instead gesturing for Peter to sit down in one of the empty desks as he perched on the edge of his own desk. Peter dropped his bag and sat, trying to keep his fingers from twitching from the anxiety strumming through him. Harrington observed him for a moment longer before sighing and handing Peter a folder. With curiosity, Peter opened it and paled considerably as he cycled through his latest test grade in addition to his final paper and project of the nine week grading period. There wasn’t a single grade above a ‘C’.

“So I wanted to talk to you before I handed these back tomorrow,” his teacher said gently, pulling a free chair up to the desk Peter was seated at and pulling the folder from his slack fingers. “Peter this isn’t the work I’m used to you turning in. What’s going on?”

“I uh,” Peter said, mind blanking as he flipped through his term paper that was absolutely coated in copious amounts of red ink. “I don’t know. I worked… I mean I spent… I don’t know,” he stuttered out, feeling untethered and confused.

Harrington sighed and, carefully, pried Peter’s fingers from the folder and closed it, setting it down on the desk. “You’ve seemed a little overwhelmed recently,” he said gently. “Most of your teachers have noticed it and this isn’t the only class where your work has taken a bit of a nose-dive. I know that you guys don’t always want to talk to teachers and school administrators about what’s going on in your personal life but, Peter, we’re here if you need it okay?”

Peter nodded, a little dumbly, his tongue too thick and dry to form words. He felt dizzy – he was turning in failing work in more than one class? “I uh…,” he cleared his throat and tried to wet his mouth, “I guess I have been a little… distracted recently but I’m okay,” he said and tried to hide his flinch at how unconvincing his voice sounded. He was fine right? “I’m sorry about the work, I know I can’t make up the test grade but is there any… uh… any extra credit I can do? I’ll do anything!”

“It’s alright,” Harrington said, picking the folder back up and standing. “I’m going to let you retake the test on Monday and if you write an analysis of what was wrong with your essay and correct the issues I’ll regrade it, same with the project. You’ll need to have them both to me Monday morning I can’t offer more than a ‘B’ on any of them but it should help your grade and make sure you don’t lose your scholarship.”

Peter felt like someone had ripped the floor out from under him and he had to grip the desk tightly. “My scholarship,” he whispered horrified and Harrington gave him a guilty look.

“You’ll have to speak with your other teachers on Monday about extra credit and make-up work but I believe all of them will be willing to help out,” Harrington passed the folder back to Peter who took it with numb and trembling fingers. “It’ll be fine Peter.”

“Right,” he said, feeling like he was underwater and standing shakily. “Thanks Mr. Harrington, I’ll go work on these now.” He never heard the man respond nor did he remember much of his walk home, the next thing he was aware of was standing in his room, his hoodie a little damp from the mist that had descended on the city and the barely-there drizzle that had started. Peter dropped his bag with a thump to the floor and collapsed into his desk chair.

He had work to do and he did so at an absolutely feverish pace. Reading back through his paper he had no idea how he had thought it was even marginally acceptable to turn in. He hadn’t even bothered looking at his project yet but he knew that it would look the much the same and he could already feel his gut twisting into tight knots as he considered the work he would be putting into it over the rest of the weekend.

By the time he had finished, his eyes were dry and crusty and the rain was pounding in earnest against his bedroom window; the only light coming from his desk lamp and the flickering streetlight outside his window. He sat back and blinked furiously, staring at the window with his eyes blurring in and out of focus. He could feel his heart speed up and shook his head once, hard, before jumping from his seat and stripping out of his clothes to pull on his suit.

“Hello Peter,” Karen said brightly as his HUD flickered and readings started to populate. “It is past-,”

“Mute Karen,” Peter said, voice croaking and shaky as he popped his fingers and neck. “Disable HUD and go dark.” It wasn’t often that he shut down his entire suit and went out the way he used to – just him with no extra tech – but sometimes it (and Karen) did effect his senses. And sometimes, like tonight, he just needed the silence.

He opened up his window, reveling in the cool air that creeped into his room and the drops of rain that stuck against his limbs like ice cubes. He paused for just a moment before firing a web through the fog to latch onto the building across the street, swinging out into the weather.

As he took slow laps around Queens, he let his mind drift and his body to just run on complete auto-pilot. He rarely saw any sort of major crime in rain and fog like this and his Spider Sense was quiet in his mind as he swung. Without Karen active and with his suit dark, he didn’t have his heater or GPS or access to his phone or the police scanner but he was fine with all of that. Content to just swing until he couldn’t.

The ‘until he couldn’t’ came a lot soon than he thought, his numb finger slipping on a web and sending him careening onto the top of a building where he rolled and ended up on his back, staring up at the moonless and starless night sky and the thick drops of rain. He laid there for just a moment longer, stunned and taking stock, but nothing hurt too much, he just felt detached.

With no small effort, Peter sat up and scooted over to sit with his back against the roof access, staring out over Queens but unable to see more than a few hundred feet ahead of him. His eyes unfocused and he felt his mind slowing down – blank and quiet finally.

“Do you know what time it is?” His mentor’s voice should have surprised him but, even drifting off the way he was, it was impossible to not hear the loud repulsers of the Iron Man armor. He touched down on the roof to the left of Peter and his face plate shifted up, keeping him dry from the rain but reveling his face that was a mix of disapproving and concerned. Peter just shrugged.

“Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse and monotonous in the gloom. Tony furrowed his brows at him.

“You good kiddo?”

“Sure,” Peter said, looking out over the roof top again. “Fine.”

“Right,” Tony said, his voice disbelieving. “Well its past your curfew buddy and you’re completely soaked. You okay with me giving you a lift home?” Peter nodded without consideration. He was cold and he couldn’t really feel his fingertips – getting a ride home on the Iron Man express was definitely preferable than walking. “Hop on then,” Tony motioned to his back as he turned and, after a moment to psych himself up for it, Peter stood slowly and wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck.

The armor was warm and the flaps prevented Peter from getting pestered by too many of the remaining raindrops on their flight. He let his eyes slip closed as they flew, content to drift, which he realized was a mistake when he opened them a few minutes later and realized Tony had taken them to the Tower instead. “This isn’t my apartment,” he said, dropping down to land on the over-large balcony of the penthouse so that Tony could step out of the armor.

“Nope,” he agreed, shuffling Peter inside and carefully pulling his mask over his face and dropping a towel around his shoulders. “You’re staying here tonight – I know May’s working third.”

The water dripping from his damp hair onto his neck made him shiver but Peter made no move to dry off with the towel – standing just inside the entrance to the penthouse and staring ahead at his mentor who clucked his tongue and started to dry Peter’s hair off himself. “What’s going on Pete?” He asked as he rubbed the terry cloth through Peter’s curls. “This isn’t you.”

“Nothing,” Peter said, his voice sounding emotionless, “I’m fine.”

The look Tony leveled him with was that of pure disbelief but he herded Peter toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Go take a warm shower and change. I’ll make some hot chocolate and meet you in the living room when you’re done.”

Peter nodded his assent and made his way toward his en suite bathroom. The Spidey suit was sticking wetly to his clammy skin and it took some doing to get out of it but it was worth it to slip into the fancy shower his room at the Tower offered. He stood for an untold amount of time under the burning spray of water and felt the tension leave his body, his emotions swirling confusingly in his head and leaving him nearly dizzy. Deciding he couldn’t put it off any longer, Peter grabbed the towel from the heated rack and dried off, slipping into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie before making it back to the living room.

In his time away, Tony had made one of the only things he could in the kitchen: hot chocolate from scratch (a recipe from Rhodey and his college years) and was settled on the overly large couch with a pile of throw blankets. Peter sank into the nest and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, accepting the mug his mentor offered and taking a sip of the steaming drink.

“Alright out with it,” Tony said, sitting to face Peter, the expression on his face open. “Something’s going on buddy but you can tell me okay?”

“It’s October thirteenth,” Peter blurted before biting his lip.

“October thirteenth?” Tony asked with a furrowed brow. “What…?”

“Uncle Ben died a year ago,” Peter whispered, curling up further into himself. From next to him Tony let out a sigh of air.

“Oh kiddo,” he said, voice sad and filled with understanding. Peter sniffed once and felt a hot tear leak down his cheek. He didn’t bother wiping it away. “There’s… not really anything that I can say that will make it better,” Tony said as he scooted closer and sat his mug of coffee on the table in front of them. “I know that from experience but, if you ever want to talk about him you can always come to me.”

Peter nodded once and was surprised when, just a moment later, Tony reached out and pulled Peter tightly into his side in a hug. Peter’s mind went blank for a moment and then he felt his eyes well with tears that fell in silent waves down his cheeks. He had felt so overwhelmed, so underwater for weeks leading up to this day and he just…

“Let it out buddy,” tony said, pulling him in tighter and running calloused fingers through Peter’s still-damp hair. “It’s alright.”

With that permission, Peter turned himself more fully into his mentor, curling himself in tighter and letting his eyes cry themselves out.

It felt like catharsis.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump30 #Prompt: Crying #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Text

the art of making a move at a kegger

jj x reader

word count: 2877

warnings: drinking, cursing, and towards the end almost sexual content but not actually

synopsis: harboring feelings for jj + getting drunk doesn’t always equal the smoothest of times but it all works out in the end

requested by @maybebanks really hope you like it!

JJ wasn’t on your radar until he slept through three quizzes in a row during your 8:00 a.m. English freshman year. He sat across from you, and you thought he was pretty cute, even when he started showing up wearing Pike letters. Which coincidentally is when he started falling asleep during quizzes.

One morning, when the professor left the room and you were packing your backpack, you heard JJ clear his throat. You glanced up, unsure if it was for you or not, and caught him smiling at you sheepishly.

“Hey,” he mumbled, running a hand through his unruly hair, “I was wondering if you had the readings for Thursday, I lost the syllabus.”

You pulled out your planner, “Yeah, it’s Act 3 of Hamlet and a part from the textbook on dramatic irony, pages 176-179.”

He quickly jotted it down on the corner of his notebook and smiled tiredly at you, “Thanks so much, I can’t keep failing these fucking quizzes, my grade is cheeks right now.”

“Is everything okay?” you cautiously asked, you didn’t want to push but you were a little concerned about the cute boy.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair again, “Hazing shit, they’re making the new pledges stay up. I haven’t slept a full night in two weeks.”

“That’s, uh,” you weren’t really sure what to say, “not okay?” You settled on.

With a shrug, he tugged his backpack up and pushed in his chair, “Yeah, well, I guess it comes with being a legacy.” And then he was gone.

After that first interaction, you and JJ chatted every so often. Sometimes you’d let him cheat off your quizzes because they were pointless anyway and sometimes, you’d ask your professor to repeat one of the questions so he could get a second chance to answer if he was running late.

The last day of the semester he brought you coffee, “I just wanted to thank you for everything this semester, and I was hoping I could get your number so we can keep in touch.”

The next semester you had two classes together, much to your shock. When the two of you started to hang out outside of class to study for statistics, you learned some stuff about him. He was from the Outer Banks and he had a rough childhood. He was also receiving the Pell Grant so school was totally paid for, his only expense was the frat.

You also learned that the two of you were the same major and had to take all of the same courses, so the two of you decided to try and register for some of the same classes. It didn’t always work out, you had priority scheduling as a note taker for at least one class every semester and sometimes when JJ went to schedule, your section was already full. But sometimes it did work out.

Either way, the two of you always studied together. You used to go back and forth between apartments, one week was yours and one was JJ’s, until he moved into the frat house and no work was meant to be done in those walls. That atmosphere was conducive to parties only, something else JJ loved.

One afternoon, fall of your sophomore year, JJ balled up a piece of paper and threw it at you. It bounced off your forehead landed in your open coffee cup, and you looked up and glared at him, “Was that necessary?”

He gave you an innocent look, “Do you have plans next weekend?”

“I mean, we have a test the next Monday so I’ll probably be studying.”

JJ took the last sip of his coffee, “I have a formal and I need a date, wanna go?”

“Not particularly,” you responded with a shrug.

“No strings attached,” JJ told you, “promise. My friend from home, Kie, normally comes with me, but she has her own shit to do, and me and you get along. If you don’t go, I’ll have to take a stranger and then I’ll be bored.”

You’d been to some of the parties his frat threw, you knew he wouldn’t really be bored all night, he just didn’t want to have to actually work to get a date. Not that he’d have to work hard, his good looks would pretty much guarantee him a date. But you were a little intrigued, so you agreed.

“Great,” he told you, clapping his hands, “let me know what color your dress is and I’ll get a matching tie.”

“Fancy,” you told him with a smile.

“Kie loves matching, she’ll be proud,” JJ responded, and it made you really curious about Kie and the rest of his friends, but you didn’t ask.

Eventually you would get to meet them. JJ invited you to go home with him for spring break and he showed you around the Outer Banks, took you surfing, and threw a party that almost rivaled the ones his frat normally threw. Meeting his friends was nice, but really getting to know JJ was nicer. That’s when you started to complicate the ‘no strings attached’ deal, you felt yourself catching feelings.

By the time senior year rolled around, you were the most tired you’ve ever been. School was hard, having a job while doing school was harder and your social life was suffering. You still hung out with JJ a lot, mostly to study or to unwind and just watch TV, but he was really the only person you spent time with on a regular basis other than your coworkers.

Late on a Saturday afternoon, you were already in your pajamas, studying for an anatomy test, when there was a knock at your apartment door. Startled, you wrapped the blanket you were sitting under tightly around your shoulders and cautiously walked to the door. Peering through the peephole, you saw JJ standing there, looking at something on his phone.

You threw the door open, “What are you doing here?”

He looked up and smiled, “I’m here to kidnap you.”

“What?” you asked blankly, not really in the mood.

JJ pushed his way past you and sat on a barstool before answering, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how miserable you’ve been lately. When’s the last time you went out?”

And, God, when was the last time you’d done something fun? You sighed, “Fuck, I don’t know, like maybe a month ago when we went to that basketball game.”

With a hum, JJ stood up, “Get dressed, Pike’s throwing a kegger tonight.”

You didn’t even think twice before tossing the blanket onto the couch and going to your closet to find something to wear. JJ turned the TV on while you got fully dressed, minus makeup. Peeking your head out, you caught JJ’s attention, “Can I do my makeup at the house?”

He nodded, “Yeah. You almost ready because I’ve gotta pick up the keg soon?”

“Let’s go.”

JJ locked the door behind you and the two of you walked to his truck. The music blasted as soon as he cranked it up and he turned it down with a sheepish smile, “My bad, the song playing when I got here was a banger.”

Plugging your phone in, you put on the collaborative playlist you and JJ made together. He turned it back up a little and peeled out of the parking lot to the nearest liquor store where his frat normally got their kegs.

You bought cups at the convenience store next door while JJ loaded the keg into his truck, and a few pods because you were low and JJ was almost always out. JJ was leaning against the truck when you met him back in the shared parking lot, and he handed you a Twisted Tea, “For accompanying me on this adventure, madam.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” you responded, cracking it open and took a deep sip before climbing back into the truck to head to the frat house.

JJ left you to finish getting ready while he helped everyone set up for the party. You joined him eventually, having finished your first drink, and helped lock all bedroom doors and put all valuables away.

By the time people started arriving you were happily tipsy, hanging onto JJ while he talked to some of his friends, sipping beer slowly out of your assigned cup at the house. You were over there enough that you’d claimed one of your own and all the other guys that lived there respected it for the most part.

The party started to pick up and one of JJ’s frat brothers called you over to attempt a keg stand. You’d always wanted to try but never had, so you handed JJ your cup and kicked your feet up, trusting the two guys were ready to catch you. They did and someone put the spout into your mouth.

A crowd gathered around you and started counting loudly. You made it all the way to a minute before kicking to be let down. Slowly the two guys lowered your feet and your vision swam while beer bubbled in your throat. You almost choked but managed to swallow while everyone cheered around you. JJ wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Not bad for a first time!”

He topped your cup off and guided you away. You cleared your throat, “Thought I was gonna puke for a second there.”

“You turned a little green when you first came down, how you feeling now though?”

“Feeling fantastic,” you told him earnestly, swaying in place.

JJ chuckled, grabbing your shoulders, “You got plans tomorrow?”

“Anatomy.”

“So that’s a no, I won’t cut you off then.”

“Don’t cut me off, please,” you told him seriously, trying to focus on his face.

He gave you a little two finger salute, “Aye aye madam.”

You lost track of how many drinks you had as the night went on. Sometime during the night, JJ disappeared and came back with something besides beer for you which was really nice and you thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. He just laughed and squeezed your shoulder before going off to talk to someone else.

When the party started winding down, you attempted to find the Uber app on your phone to call a ride home. JJ tapped your shoulder, startling you, and in your clumsy, intoxicated state, you dropped your phone. It slid out of your eyesight and you glared at him, “Pick it up, J.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, amused.

“Goin home, party’s over.”

“Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Can’t make it up the stairs,” you told him seriously.

JJ raised his eyebrows, “You live on the second floor of your apartment building, at least here you have me to help you up the stairs.”

He had you there. So, you nodded and he took you to the kitchen for a clean cup. JJ filled it with water and made you drink two before leading you to the stairs. You lifted your foot to put it on the first step and almost fell over. JJ reached out but you shushed him, as if his silence would help you focus more on not falling over.

On the second try, you managed to climb up one step and immediately shuffled close to the wall so you could lean your whole body against it for balance while attempting to climb. It was a really slow process, but you were too stubborn to ask for help, and JJ knew better than to try to help you when you were feeling stubborn.

JJ stayed one step below you to help in case you started to fall backwards. Eventually you made it all the way up and immediately forgot which door led to his room. Huffing a laugh, JJ grabbed your wrist and led you to the second one on the left.

You sat down on the bed and went pretty much boneless at the comfort of finally not being on your feet.

“Fucks sake, dude,” JJ muttered, pushing you up into a sitting position.

“No,” you whined, fighting to lay back down.

It wasn’t hard for JJ to keep you sitting up, “You’re going to be so pissed if you wake up in your clothes with makeup on, you need to change and get ready for bed.”

He was right again, but you didn’t have the comprehension level to remember how to do that so you shrugged in response. JJ sighed and helped you kick your shoes off before going to get you a change of clothes from his drawers. You somehow managed to get your shirt off and your shorts unbuttoned, but he had to help you get the new shirt on and change shorts.

The guy JJ shared a bathroom with’s girlfriend left makeup wipes and JJ helped you get all your makeup off. You kept making faces to be difficult because you liked the furrow between his eyebrows as he tried to focus on being gentle.

“I will intentionally poke you in the eyeball if you do not stop,” he warned.

Pouting, you poked his cheek, “Don’t bully me, I’m drunk.”

He threw the wipe away and looked at you exasperatedly, “Brush your teeth, your breath smells like a liquor store.”

Giggling, you grabbed your spare toothbrush from the drawer next to his and sloppily started brushing your teeth. JJ was standing behind you and leaning on you, trapping you between the counter and his body so you didn’t fall over or sway.

The bright bathroom lights plus the water were clearing your brain a little, but you were still gone and not really able to focus on anything for more than a few seconds at a time. You leaned back to feel his chest moving as he brushed his teeth and giggled at the feeling.

JJ sighed again and gently nudged you out of the way to spit and rinse in the sink and you followed suit, having forgotten to do so yourself. You followed him out of the bathroom and grabbed his hand as he led you back to his room.

From what you could remember, JJ slept on the left, so you climbed into the right side of his bed and stretched out comfortably. He crawled in behind you a few minutes later, and you turned around to look at him. He had a small smile on his face as he looked back at you and reached up to push a piece of hair that had fallen in your eyes out of the way.

Suddenly, you were overcome by the urge that you’d been fighting for over a year and you leaned forward to kiss him. He froze and you almost regretted it until he started kissing you back.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours but could’ve only been minutes until he rolled the two of you over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you. Your lips were only separated for a few seconds before he was kissing you again, more deeply than before.

Sighing into the kiss, you brought a hand up to his head and ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned lightly at the feeling and you felt a hand creeping up your thigh. Before it could get too far, you nudged his shoulders back to catch your breath. He kept stroking your thigh and you shifted, “Hey, can we wait maybe?”

“Wait for what?” JJ asked you, confused.

“To fuck,” you told him bluntly.

JJ huffed out a surprised laugh, “Oh, uh, yeah definitely.”

You grinned at him sheepishly, “Sorry, you’re my best friend and if we’re going to do this, I want to be sober and you know, really ready.”

“Right, yeah, I totally get it,” he reassured you, dropping back down next to you.

You sighed as he wrapped his arm around you again. Lifting your head, you let it rest on one of his biceps and drank in his facial features. He held onto one of your hands and played with your fingers, not looking at you directly.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, feeling a little uncertain.

JJ looked at you, furrow back between his eyebrows but a little different than before, “I’m the one who should be saying sorry.”

“What?” you asked, feeling the urge to press the wrinkle until it went away.

“For forcing myself onto you,” JJ mumbled.

Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t keep up with the conversation, “Wait what?”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes again, so you lifted his chin until the two of you were almost nose to nose. JJ shut his eyes, “You’re really drunk, I shouldn’t have ever returned the kiss because you might regret it in the morning.”

“No, I really do like you JJ, I just,” you paused, trying to find the right words, “I just want it to be special, I guess,” you trailed off, hoping it made sense.

JJ smiled gently and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “We can talk about it tomorrow, yeah?”

With a giant yawn, you nodded and the last thing you remember is him running a hand through your hair and tangling your legs together.

#jj maybank request #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #outer banks fic #outer banks #obx #pike!jj #frat!jj

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

Text

Best Friend Things | Kol Mikaelson

Hey Lovelies, surprise, I'm back! I missed you all so much! Thank you to those special people who checked up on me faithfully! You know who you are and I hope i can repay that kindness one day! Y'all are honestly amazing!! I hope you all like this, it's more of a drabble so I am sorry for that but I needed to submit something :) All the best loves, I hope to see you soon again!

Description: Honestly just a Drabble about Y/n and Kol becoming best friends with a small storyline about him protecting her from a bad home life, nothing too bad, sorry for the weak description LOL

Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of abuse, hospital, completely SFW though (unfortunately)

Word count: 3526

Tags: FLUFF, a lil angst but not much SO MUCH FLUFF

(Pics aren't mine but the mood board is <3)

You don’t know how you and Kol became best friends, it sort of just happened. You were in high school when you first met him. He was a year above you, the senior to your junior. Not to mention the captain of the football team. He was everything you weren’t. Popular, athletic, known. You were just a shy girl with a paintbrush who flinched a little too much. The first time he spoke to you, you almost fainted.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead, refusing to move from the autumn heat until your sketches are finished. It’s the first week of school and the football team has been practicing every afternoon. It’s perfect for life drawing. Jogging, stretching, catching, tackling. It’s the best practice, especially if you plan on getting into school and as far away from Louisiana as possible.

Your hands tremble, the charcoal between your fingers stuttering over the page. You sigh, ready to rip the page out and start over.

“No, keep it, love,” your hand jerks again, along with the rest of your body, at the unfamiliar voice, “I like the way it looks. It’s unique.”

His accent is thick and enchanting, pulling your eyes from the drawing to the boy standing above you. Kol Mikaelson. Your eyes widen and your breath catches in your throat. Your cheeks flush but it’s thankfully hidden with the summer sun. He’s not looking at you, anyway, his eyes glued to your sketch pad. It's filled with football players which wasn’t weird until now.

You run a still shaking hand through your hair, pushing it out of your sticky face, “I, ah, thank you. I think.”

You pull the sleeves of your jacket further down your arms, trying to hide the tremors. His eyes are now on you, skimming over your curled form. You can feel his eyes land on your face but you don’t meet them with your own. Your heart picks up when he sits down next to you, staying a couple feet away, but still pretty close. You sit as still as you can, trying desperately not to fidget. For a guy who’s been running in the heat for a couple hours he still smells really good. Like pine trees and liquorice. Who even smells like that?

“Aren’t you warm in that hoodie?” His question seems harmless but it makes you freeze up even more.

You look over your shoulder, spotting a familiar black truck in the parking lot, mumbling, “I’m fine.”

You close your sketchbook, tucking it into your tote bag along with your pencils and charcoal. You stand up, stretching your legs slightly, stiff from sitting on the grass for the past two hours. You can feel the indents in your legs and know for certain there are green stains on your bottom. You don’t check though, not with Kol next to you. You go to walk away but a hand on your shoulder stops you.

The breath leaves your lungs as he presses unknowingly on a bite carefully tucked under your shirt, “are you sure, love?”

It’s all you can do to not look at the truck again, staring at the ground, doing your best not to wince at his fingers, “I, uh, yeah. It’s fine.”

“It’s fine?” His finger draws your chin up to look into his eyes, which are delightfully carmel and burning with questions.

“I mean I’m fine.”

You can’t tell if you're trying to convince Kol or yourself. Both, maybe. It doesn’t matter though. You don’t plan on ever speaking to him again. You pull your face from his grasp, stifling another groan when you haul your tote bag onto your shoulder, heading towards the parking lot. You already know your step dad is in that truck, tapping his hand impatiently on the steering wheel, watching your every move. You can feel Kol’s eyes like laser beams on your back.

“See you tomorrow then, love?”

You don’t answer, you just keep walking.

The second time you saw him, he didn't let you go as easily. A week had passed from your first encounter on the football team. You hadn’t realized yet but he had followed you home that night. He knew something was wrong, he saw every flinch, heard every breath. Call it intuition. Call it being a vampire. Call it whatever you want, that was just Kol. And with Kol comes his frustrating tendency to never let things go. He had seen it all, and he was furious.

You reach up, standing on your tiptoes to get your books from the top shelf of your locker, wincing at the action. When you had put your things there for the weekend, you hadn't expected to walk into school the following Monday with bruised ribs. Your stomach pulses with pain, the kind that’s white hot and makes you want to throw up. You have to roll back onto the balls of your feet to avoid collapsing. Crap.

You stare at the books longingly, knowing you only have a few minutes until first period starts. It will only take a second to grab them, right? You can do it. You’ll be fine. You have to be fine. It’s fine.

You reach up again, your shirt lifting with your movements. When the breeze that accompanies the busy hallway skims your back, the wind is knocked from your lungs. It feels like someone kicked you all over again. You power through it though. You need those books. They’re just a little further. The more you move your arms, the more your shirt raises. There's more wind, followed by the same burning sensation. You’re going to throw up.

You fall back on flat feet again, bumping into something hard. Probably another locker. The locker’s hands grip the bottom of your shirt. Definately not a locker. You spin around so fast you can’t help the groan that slips out, your back screaming at you from all the activity. You feel tears threatening to spill. Everything hurts.

You’re greeted by none other than Kol Mikaelson, whose eyes are still, glued to a spot just in front of you. The spot where your back had just been. His hands are still balled into fists, like he’s still holding your shirt. He looks confused. No, scratch that, he looks angry. When he finally looks at you his eyes are pitch black. You take a step back out of instinct, the cold metal of your locker searing into your back through the thin fabric of your tee.

“I, ah, Kol,” your eyes dart around the hallway, checking to see if anyone else was watching, only to find it completely empty, “what’s, uh, what’s up?”

He cuts right to the chase, “what’s on your back?”

Your eyes widen automatically at his question. He can’t know. Right? No of course not. Unless he saw. But there's no way. He moves closer to you, his arm landing right beside your head with a slight bang. You flinch. He’s caging you in slightly, sending your heart into overdrive. Your lungs constrict. His eyes are burning into yours. He’s pissed and you’re not sure why. You can’t breathe.

“What do you mean?” Of course you dodge the question, that’s what you’re supposed to do.

He runs his other hand through his hair, tugging at the roots, “love, don’t play games with me you will not win.”

Your mouth goes dry, your voice is too quiet, “what do you want from me?”

He closes his eyes, squeezing the fist that’s still beside your head. You’re not sure what to do. You could run but you would probably only get a few feet before he’d catch you. Would he catch you? Would he even run after you? No, he doesn’t care. Then again, he’s here. He’s pushing you for something. You’re not sure if you’re ready to find out what.

When he opens his eyes again he looks directly into yours, his pupils dilating, “I want you to show me your back. Now, love.”

“I’m going to show you my back,” you know you’re the one speaking but it’s almost like you’re listening to a recording of yourself.

It feels like your body turns on its own accord, one minute you're facing him and the next you're staring at the locker, in a trance. You don’t remember wanting to lift your shirt up but you do it anyway, exposing your back to Kol Mikaelson. You feel the tears start to fall. You want to run, now, not just debate running, but you can’t, you’re stuck. It’s like your feet are glue to the floor.

“Fucking hell,” Kols words are strangled, “what are they doing to you.”

He touches your back lightly, no doubt skimming the blackened marks on your rib cage. His fingers sting and you can’t help but hiss. You lean away from his touch still holding your shirt in place. You can feel yourself trembling but you start to space out.

Kol’s finger tilts your head to meet his eyes once more, “you can put your shirt back, love. Thank you.”

With those simple words you pull your shirt down, whipping around to face him. You look like a deer caught in headlights, waiting for an impact. Time feels frozen still. Kol reaches to touch your face, his eyes fading back to their usual cola colour. Time unfreezes. And you run like hell.

After that day you had started to see Kol more and more. Staring at you from across the cafeteria, shooting pool in town at the local pub, jogging on the sidewalk in your neighbourhood. Wherever you were, there he was. Seeing him became a normal part of your day but you never spoke to him, not after that day at your locker. You wouldn’t talk to him for another three weeks after that day.

When you open your eyes it’s to the sound of machines beeping. There’s a sanitary tinge of bleach and lemons in the air. Your bed is stiff, the room dim. Your arm burns with a kind of deep itch you’ve never felt before. When you go to scratch it, you find a tube and a needle at the source. That’s when it hits you, you’re at the hospital.

Your heartbeat picks up, the machine beeping faster with it. A lady dressed in scrubs sprints into your room but before she can touch you there’s a hand on your face and then one on your neck, against your pulse point. When you look up you’re greeted by someone that you’re not actually that surprised to see; Kol Mikaelson.

“Kol, what-,” you want to continue talking but your throat burns, like you’re swallowing glass with every syllable.

You end up coughing up a storm, something the nurse must have anticipated because she hands you a glass of water. Her hair is a pretty chestnut colour, pulled into a long ponytail. She has a warm smile on her face.

She picks up the chart at the end of your bed, looking at it while she speaks, “you’re going to want to go easy on that throat for a while, sugar plum. You had quite the little accident. You should feel lucky your boyfriend here found you when he did or you would be in a much worse condition.”

Her voice is like honey, slow and sweet. Every word she says brings you closer to calming down. Until she says boyfriend. As soon as she says that word the heart monitor goes wild. He is not your boyfriend. Yes, he is cute, more so than the average boy. Alright Kol is gorgeous, but that’s not the point. Why does she think Kol is your boyfriend?

You look to Kol for the first time since meeting him for help, hoping he can understand your confused expression.

He nods and looks at the nurse with a smile on his face that doesn't quite reach his eyes, “Sarah, darling, do you mind giving us a moment? I think she needs a second to catch her breath.”

She looks like she’s about to protest but he leans a fraction closer and she smiles back, walking out of the room without another word. Your chest falls for a moment when he calls her darling and you’re not sure why. Kol means nothing to you. Well, that’s not true. You’ve grown fond of seeing him around, but it’s nothing that would warrant being jealous, if that’s what this is.

When she closes the door, Kol turns back to you. That’s when you notice his eyes, and the deep purple circles underneath then. Your breath catches in your sore throat. How long has he been here? How long have you been here?

What happened? The heart monitor starts it’s assault on your ears again.

“Love, listen to me,” he pulls the chair he must have been sitting in next to your bed, “if you want me to tell you what happened then you’re going to have to calm down, alright?”

“Ok,” you whisper back, trying to push past the fire in your lungs.

He picks your hand up with his own and you don’t protest, letting yourself be comfortable with this small touch. There’s a small smile on his face when you glance up at him. He rubs small circles near your wrist, avoiding the IV taped on the back of your hand. He looks lost in thought, his carmel eyes somewhere far away.

“Kol,” his name feels funny in your mouth, like you’re not worthy of it, “please talk.”

Just those few words are torture, something that desn’t go unnoticed by him, “shhhh, don’t talk, ok? I’ll explain everything. But I need to ask you something, and you need to tell me the truth. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth. Please, love.”

It takes everything in you to keep your heart from spiking. You could lie and say you have absolutely no idea what he wants to ask you but that’s a lie. You’re too tired to lie, too tired to hide, and much too tired to run. You just sigh and nod, letting him have his way.

“Do you know that your step-dad is a vampire?”

Oh. So that’s what he chose. That wouldn’t have been your question, but you let him have it. The short answer is yes. Yes, you do know that your step-dad is a vampire. You had figured it out pretty quickly the first time he cornered you in the kitchen after moving in and sunk his teeth into your neck. The longer answer, to a harder question, is no, your mother doesn’t know. And it has to stay that way.

Instead of saying that, though, you just nod your head. Kol’s hand tightens around yours. You don’t miss the way he sighs. He doesn't sound sad though, instead there’s relief on his face. You give him a pleading look.

“Well, love, it seems like your step-dad had been trying to kill you. I’m not sure exactly how or why. Well, that’s a lie actually. I know how. He was draining you of blood. I do not know why though. Why he would want to hurt you.”

The heart monitor picks up yet again and Kol gives you a funny look that you smile softly at. His eyes widen when he sees it, a small smile spreading over his face as well. The heart monitor slows easily.

“I’m just glad I was jogging when he attacked you. I heard you scream. I'm sorry, I kind of broke your door,” he gives you a shy grin, like that's what matters right now, “when I got to you I thought you were dead. There was so much blood, love. I don’t know where your step-dad went. I just wanted to get you here.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. He was the one who brought you here, the one who found you on the brink of death. He must think you’re such a handful. You bite your lip, looking up at him. You hold back tears, ones you didn't know were welling up in your eyes, and breathe deeply. Of course he notices them.

He draws your hand closer to him as Sarah walks back into the room, “what’s wrong love?”

He brings your hand to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. Your mouth falls open. The heart monitor starts screaming.

He looks around the room and then at Sarah, his eyes fiery and his tone demanding, “what the hell is going on?”

Sarah only smiles, shaking her head lightly, “her heart skipped a beat, hun.”

From that moment the two of you were inseparable. You weren't fully comfortable with him yet but that didn't bother him. Well, not often at least. Sometimes when you flinched, though, his heart squeezed a little bit more than it should have. He knew it wasn't him that you were scared of. That it would just take time. You didn’t know it then, but that was one thing that Kol had plenty of; time.

The glass is icy in your fingertips but the contents make it all worth it. You barely suppress a moan at the strawberry goodness slipping down your throat. You don’t notice the way Kol’s eyes darken from across the booth.

“How is it that you’ve never had a strawberry milkshake?”

The two of you are sat in a diner that’s not special to either of you. It’s just another burger joint. The booths are apple red and faded but comfortable. Music trickles from a retro looking jukebox in the corner. Waitresses flow by in pastel uniforms. It's just the right amount of busy. Kol picked well.

Your eyes close as you take another sip, revelling in the sweetness, “I don’t get to go out that much, what can I say?”

You open your eyes to a stone faced Kol, his shoulders tight and his jaw clenched. There’s a heaviness to the atmosphere but that’s nothing new. Since the hospital you’ve both silently agreed to ignore it. Maybe that’s not the best plan but the first time he tried to talk with you about it you shut down. Not own your own accord, you wanted to tell Kol about it, you just couldn't. It was like you lips were sealed shut. Kol had left it after that.

“Well, then, I guess it’s up to me to show you the ropes then, love,” he leans his face in close to yours, his woodsy scent fogging your mind and lighting your body on fire.

You close your eyes once more, breathing in as much of the dark haired boy as you can. When you re-open them you catch Kol sneaking a sip from your milkshake. His glass now empty and pushed to the side.

You slap his arm gently, gasping with mock anger, “that’s not nice!”

He laughs abruptly, some of the strawberry shake landing on his lips instead of in his mouth. Without thinking you reach a hand to his face, wiping the melted liquid off his buttery soft lip. His chocolate eyes lock on yours, his pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen. Your heart pounds so loudly in your chest you’re almost certain he can hear it. But that’s impossible, right?

It only takes a few seconds for your brain to catch up with your actions at which your cheeks flush on cue. You go to pull your hand back but he grabs it before you can, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist. He draws your fingers, the ones coated in syrup and ice cream, to his mouth. His tongue swirls around them and you have to bite back a moan. You can honestly say that nothing has ever felt as exquisite as Kol’s mouth. Not that you have much experience with it. You can’t deny that you wish you had more.

“Kol,” your voice is barely there and breathy, “what are you doing?”

His eyes never leave your own, piercing you as he continues to lazily lick off the ice cream that, in all honestly, is definitely gone by now. A foreign kind of heat pools in the pit of your stomach when he gently bites down on your fingertips. You can’t stop the sigh that falls from your lips. Your whole body is singing from such a simple touch.

He takes his time pulling your hand from his mouth, releasing your digits with a pop, “only making sure you aren’t sticky, love. We wouldn't want that, now would we?”

He doesn't return your hand to his mouth but he doesn't let go of it either. He just laces his fingers through yours in the middle of the table, your heartbeat still echoing through the diner.

When you look across the table again your heart flutters. You see a popular, football star, a fierce protector, one of the most caring people you've ever met. When you look across the table you see your best friend.

And maybe more but that’s for another day and another diner.

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