#anyway okay I’m babbling because I’m nervous (she says as she’s working on the last scene of the fic) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rek1s-headband · 3 years

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Break up prank on the sk8 boys

➯ Characters: Reki Kyan, Langa Hasegawa, Cherry, Joe, Miya and Shadow x gn reader

➯ Warnings: none, just some angst to fluff. Enjoy!

Reki:

He thought it was a joke at first

Like you, he watched his fair share of videos, and had seen the trend going around already

But you weren’t discouraged, you were going to try and make him believe it no matter what

He laughed it off the first time, but after you simply gave him a puzzled look and a “huh?”, he felt his heart pick up significantly. Maybe you weren’t joking??

Instantly he was running back in his mind where he could’ve possibly gone wrong, where he could’ve messed up so badly that you felt the need to leave?

After his nervous laugh died down, he went deadly silent

“You’re serious?”

You were starting to feel awful, like maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, but you decided to persist

When you nodded your head slowly, you could’ve died when you saw how quickly his face dropped

Even though he had a small smile on his face, you could see the tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. He was running a shaky hand through his hair, and when you were ready to take him into your arms, to tell him you were only kidding, he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgeways

A flood of questions was suddenly leaving his moth, all his unvoiced questions coming out in one go. He was holding your hand now in an almost death grip, asking you why you were unhappy, why you wanted to leave

Why he wasn’t good enough for you

That’s all you needed before you were pulling him into your arms, sobbing yourself. This shut him up, he was completely speechless as your tears pooled on his shoulder, telling him you were so sorry, that you were only joking. You just wanted to see him get a little panicky, you never expected the outcome to look like this

As soon as the words left your mouth you saw his shoulders visibly drop, pulling you impossibly closer as he let the last of his tears out. He chuckled shakily, running a hand up your back.

“I thought I lost you for a second there”

That was when you pulled your head out of his shoulder, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling him closer to you. Eyes wide, he simply watched as you declared he could never lose you, that you weren’t going anywhere. You were stuck to him like glue, whether he likes it or not

He gave you one last relieved smile, before he was pulling you close again for a desperate kiss. He kissed you like it was the last time he ever would, because now that he’d thought he lost you, he was never going to take anything about you for granted again

Langa:

Was fully convinced you were serious right off the bat

Right as the words “I think we should break up” were leaving your lips, his brain was doing overtime trying to figure put how he hadn’t realised how unhappy you were. Sure, he was kind of bad at reading emotions, but surely he wasn’t so terrible he couldn’t figure out how his own s/o was feeling?

Was he really as bad at communication as people told him he was?

You instantly regretted your decision as you watched his mouth hang open, saw his eyes scrunch slightly as he wrung his hands quietly at his sides

He nodded, and you couldn’t seem to swallow the lump in your throat as your eyes locked on the small tear rolling down his cheek, which he quickly wiped away with a small smile

“If thats what will make you happy”

You couldn’t seem to collect your thoughts as you watched him step closer to you, dropping his head to your level as he grabbed your hand. It was soft, as if he didn’t want to hurt you any more than he thought he had. He stumbled over his words, trying to find the right ones to say. Eventually he just took a deep breath, and looked into your eyes

“Were you really that unhappy?” Your heart broke when you heard the crack in his voice towards the end. “How did I not notice how sad you were?” Tears were falling down his face again and he didn’t even bother wiping them away this time. Suddenly you were shooting forward, grabbing his shoulders as you began to cry

“You’ve never made me unhappy Langa, not once.” You saw his wide eyes stare at you, not even attempting to reply as he watched you continue. “It was a joke, Langa. I wanted to see how you’d react, I didn’t think you’d take it this seriously. Did you really think you made me unhappy? Ive never been happier than when I’m with you-“ you barely got to finish before he was wrapping you in his arms, his grip vicelike. His face was digging into your shoulder, clinging to you as if you’d disappear any second.

His breath was ragged and shaky as he pulled you even closer, making sure there was absolutely no room for you to escape. You ran your hand through his hair in an attempt to calm him down as he slowly emerged from your shoulder

With a small chuckle, he rubbed the side of your face with his hand, letting his head drop slightly as he let out a sigh of relief

“I really thought I was ignoring my own s/o’s feelings.” You laughed, pulling him into another hug

“If I’m ever upset, I’ll let you know. Just know it wont be for quite a while” you grinned, grabbing his collar to pull him into a kiss. It was sweet, and gentle, and you felt all your previous problems melt away as Langa pulled you closer, smiling into the kiss

Cherry:

You and Kaoru rarely fought, and when you did it was over minor things that were reconciled within a day. So when you were sitting him down, asking if he’d be okay with breaking up, the only thing he could feel was complete confusion.

What happened? You’d always been so happy, never expressing much discontent. And besides, whenever you did it was resolved as soon as possible. What was so different today?

What was making you so unhappy that you felt the relationship was beyond saving?

Or worse, what outside your relationship was making you happier than him?

He kept these thoughts to himself, coughing quietly to try and open up his throat that seemed to be impossibly tight at that moment. He held your hand, stroking it softly and nodding before looking up at you

“Why the sudden change of heart, hm?”

The small smile on Kaoru’s face that was slowly diminishing by the second made you want to melt into the ground. Even when you were asking him to leave, he was still so caring, still so loving. You could only watch, feeling your heart break as he looked at you, his eyes glassy as he quickly plastered the fakest smile you’ve ever seen onto his face

“Well, if you’re unhappy when you’re with me, surely we shouldn’t be together.” He let out a small, breathy laugh that was almost missed by you, if you hadn’t been watching him with such avid horror. “I dont know why you feel you aren’t happy anymore, sweetheart, but I’m glad you realised what you want.” You watched him stand without a word, as you slowly realised that this is real.

He thinks this is real

That was all you needed before you were leaping off the couch, practically turning it over with the force you’d pushed off it. You were shouting his name, grabbing him by the arm and absolutely dragging him to face you. With the sudden turn and shock, you both ended up on the floor as you began to babble, words pouring out of your mouth and tears streaming from your eyes

“Kaoru, of course I’m not unhappy, you always know just how to make me happy, I could never leave you!” You were jumping on top of him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he sat up, a hand on your back and the other pulling your hair back from your face, trying to find any trace of a lie on your face

“Are you serous? It was all...” he was speechless. He didn’t realise you would even pull something like that, much less go so far with it

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” you sobbed. “I never meant for it to go this far. I just wanted to see you get a little worked up, pull a funny prank, nothing else, i prom-“ you were cut off when Kaoru pushed his lips onto yours, breath shaky as he ran his hand through your hair, as if you were going to disappear any second and he was making sure you were still there

When you finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours, letting out a small laugh

“Don’t ever pull that shit again”

Joe:

When you first brought it up with him, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Surely you weren’t serious, right?

He kept a smile quirked on his lips, a questioning look in his eyes. Still, you kept a face of steel, as if challenging him to ask if you were joking

As worried as he was, he wasn’t sure you were being serious. Something about it wasn’t..genuine? You looked too straight-faced, your expression staying neutral the whole time as if to not give something away. He was certain he hadn’t done enough to make you this delighted about breaking up, so why were you so unaffected?

The cogs were turning in his brain, all arrows pointing towards one of two directions: either he was a massive dick, or it was a prank

Oh. A prank

Of course, he wasn’t certain, but it would certainly explain quite a bit

So he decided on a plan. It wasn’t exactly the nicest thing to do, but if it was a prank, it was a nice way for him to get you back for the little skit you pulled. And if it wasn’t a prank, well, maybe it’ll take the sting away a little

His mouth quickly dropped to a frown, ready to put his plan into action. “Oh yeah? Well, thats a bit of a relief.” He had to try hard to hide his grin when he saw your eyebrows furrow, saw the frown begin to spread across your face. So maybe it was a prank. You could only watch as he continued his speech

“You see, I’ve been thinking about ending things for a while now. There was a girl at S I met a few weeks back, and man, you should’ve seen the eyes she’s been giving me. Anyways, I’ve taken a real liking to her, and Ive been thinking about giving things with her a shot. Of course, now it shouldn’t be a bother, right?”

When he saw your face contort from confusion to anger, he knew he’d fucked up severely. Suddenly you were getting up close to his face, prank forgotten, poking him in the chest as you began to shout

“Are you serious!? After all we’ve been through together, you’re just gonna leave me for some bitch you met a few weeks ago??” You were fuming at this point, while Joe watched you with with a look of mock confusion

“What’s your problem? You were the one who wanted to “break up”, right?” Something about the way he said ‘break up’ made you freeze, looking up at him as you watched a grin begin to form on Joe’s face. That bastard

“You...you asshole!” You were lost for words. He knew this whole time? And instead of enlightening you, he decided to play along? You watched with a blank expression as Joe laughed, pulling you into a hug

“I knew it” he let out a loud laugh, but it almost seemed forced. You pulled away, and when you tried to look at him his eyes seemed to be everywhere but you. You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you

“You didn’t think id actually want to break up, did you?” When he simply frowned, pulling his eyes away again you cooed, pulling him into your chest as you stroked his hair, feeling his arms slowly wrap around your waist and hold you close

It’s safe to say the two of you stayed like that for quite a while

Shadow:

When you asked him to break up as a joke, you simply wanted to see if you could piss him off. Hiromi was prone to getting mad at the smallest things, cursing up a storm when he did something as small as mess up his makeup

So when you saw his face break, felt him shrink in on himself as he asked you why, what had he done that made you want to leave, your face was frozen with shock

Now this was completely new. Of course, you knew Hiromi wasn’t just some big angry man, but you didn’t think he’d get this worked up

Brows furrowed, he brought a hand to his forehead as he let out a long breath

“What happened?” Those two words held so much emotion it almost made you break. You didn’t realise how much this would affect him, just how upset it would make him. But here he was, an emotional wreck as he wiped an almost-tear away from the edge of his eye

But soon after, he was stepping close to you, grabbing your hand and looking at you with all the sincerity in the world

“Please, give me another chance. I dont know what I did, but I do know we can fix it. I know we can, please y/n. I cant lose you”

His heartfelt speech was all you needed for the tears to slowly fall from your eyes, Hiromi looking at you with a look of concern, and confusion. You were stepping into his arms, crying silently as he hesitantly put his arms around you, not quite sure what to do. So was that a yes?

You picked your head off his shoulder, not moving from his arms

“Oh, Hiromi” he looked down at you, concern washing over his face once more. “It was only a prank, I’m so sorry.”

Now he wasn’t just upset, but relieved. A bit of anger was in there somewhere, but that could be overlooked for now. He let out a loud laugh, hugging you so tightly you could’ve sworn you felt at least 3 of your ribs break

“And what made you think that was a funny thing to do?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, not letting you out of his death grip. You simply shrugged, burying yourself deeper into his chest. He smiled, his knees practically buckling after the whole ordeal

He held you at arms length, a frown on his face. You felt a twinge of panic, maybe he wouldn’t forgive you?

This thought was quickly forgotten when he barked out a loud laugh. He dropped his face to your level, putting his hands on your shoulders

“Pull something like that again, and I swear you’ll give me a heart attack”

Miya:

Miya has never been one for properly expressing his emotions, so when you walked up to him one day and asked him to break up, he simply frowned. He didn’t let it on, but his world was very quickly caving in around him

Keeping a neutral expression, he sighed and nodded his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak right now

When you gave him a confused look from his lack of a verbal response, he really had to try to not walk out of that room there and then. You break up with him, and then expect him to just take it and walk away with a smile??

When you continued to look at him expectantly, he just let out a breath, turning away from you. “Fine. Whatever. If thats really what you want then so be it” he was kicking himself for being so blunt, but what other choice did he have? He couldn’t think, his lungs felt too small, too cramped

And now you were going to leave just like everyone else had

You tried to put your hand on his shoulder, calling his name quietly. He simply shrugged you off, dipping his head so you wouldn’t see the tears that were quickly collecting in his eyes. You’d just dumped him, the last thing he needed was you seeing him cry. You didn’t give up, asking him why he wouldn’t just look at you. Still not facing you, he attempted to talk again

“What more is there to discuss? You want to leave, so go. I’m not going to stop you if its what you want.” The crack in his voice at the end of his sentence broke your heart, and you were quickly turning him around, with more force this time, so he was forced to look you in the eyes

“Do you really think I’d leave that easily? It was a prank, you dumbass.” His head was buzzing with thoughts, why the hell would you do that? So you dont actually want to leave? You’re still gonna stay with him? You-

His thoughts were interrupted by you flicking his forehead. His hands flew to his head, letting out a cry. First you pretend to dump him, and now you have the audacity to flick him?

However, it did serve its purpose of pulling him out of his thoughts, and you were quickly pulling him into a hug while you stroked his hair. Before long you felt your shoulder grow wet with tears, the occasional sniffle leaving him. You laughed, holding him close as you tilted his chin to look at you

“I’m not going anywhere, as much as you might like me to. You’re stuck with me for a while longer, Miya Chinen.” He looked away from you, clicking his teeth

“Shut up..” he was mumbling, but there was so mistaking how hard he was gripping your clothes, as if you might try to leave again. But like you said, you weren’t going anywhere for quite some time

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

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Germs [Reid x Reader]

this gif isn’t mine

Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: Mature

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?)

A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think! masterlist

y/n - your name

y/l/n - your last name

italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts

---

I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.

But, fuck, it was hot.

Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.

“Shit,” I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.

Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.

My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.

Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.

Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.

I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.

The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’

We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.

Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.

The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.

Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”

“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”

“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”

The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”

“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”

Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”

“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”

“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.

The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”

“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”

Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”

“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.

“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”

Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”

Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”

“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.

Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”

Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”

And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.

He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”

I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.

“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”

My head snapped back around. “What?”

Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”

Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.

The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”

I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.

Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.

It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.

"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.

Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”

The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."

“You don’t?” I squeaked.

He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”

I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.

“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?

The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."

Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.

Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”

He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?

After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.

“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.

The highest praise I’ll ever need.

I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.

Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.

But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.

I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.

It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.

“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.

“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?

I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.

He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”

Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.

His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.

“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”

“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.

“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."

He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."

I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.

The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”

I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”

Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.

“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.

With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.

My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.

Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.

“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”

He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”

My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”

He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”

He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.

He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.

He made me feel…cherished.

I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.

Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.

His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.

I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.

I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”

He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.

“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.

I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.

His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.

One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”

I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.

I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.

We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”

I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.

“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”

My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“

He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.

“It means everything to me, Y/n.”

I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?

Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.

There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.

I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.

“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”

I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #Dr Reid #Spencer reid fic #Spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid fics #criminal minds #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds smut #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n

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allyouneedisbuck · 3 years

Text

Honey, Honey

Summary: it's mother's day & harry wants to do something to celebrate you from him and leo.

Words: 1.4k

Notes: i haven't touched my little lion series in so long, and i saw a sweet card at target yesterday and inspiration struck. & i wanted to post something since it's been a few weeks.

Timeline: mother's day in may, about six months after the engagement to harry. leo is almost two. (for the rest of the little lion series see my masterlist.)

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Harry wasn’t entirely sure how to bring up Mother’s Day with you. Leo was still young, just a little under two years old. And while he was sleeping through the night, and babbling away, he was too young to even comprehend the holiday. Harry knew you weren’t really expecting anything.

But the two of you had been together for over a year now, you lived with them, and even if Leo wasn’t yours biologically, you had made it clear he was your son.

But... Last year, the three of you had skipped over Mother’s Day. Your relationship was still treading through milestones. Meeting families, moving in… So it had been pretty much forgotten about. This year though, Harry wanted to do something for the day, he just wasn’t sure what.

He knew you enjoyed the brunch served at the place downtown, but Leo couldn’t really handle super large crowds and long days yet, both a staple for Mother’s Day brunches.

He had ordered flowers to be delivered, but that didn’t really feel like enough. He could try breakfast in bed, but you were a light sleeper and most likely not be able to sleep through the surprise.

“Gem.” He groans as he flickers through the cards in front of him. “Not only do I have no gift, there are no cards for like, adoptive moms.”

Gemma laughs softly. “H, you know she’ll love it no matter what. I’m sure it’ll mean the world to her that you want to do this.”

Harry shakes his head as he slams another card back into its slot. “I know that. I just want her to know that I appreciate her wanting to be with Leo and I.”

Gemma sighs. “She does, Harry. And she’ll love whatever you choose for her because it’s from the heart.”

Harry picks up another card and sighs. Too many of the cards were dedicated to wives, which you weren’t yet, work was so busy for the both of you planning hadn’t even really come up yet. He assumed a card from Leo would be a little easier, as long as the card didn’t mention genetics, it would work.

But Harry just couldn’t find the perfect one. Gemma sighs again when Harry doesn’t respond. “H, it’s a card. You’re overthinking it because you’re nervous. Just pick one with Leo’s favorite cartoon and she’ll love it. I have to go. I love you, bye.”

Before Harry can respond Gemma ends the call and all that’s on the other end is a dial tone. Harry looks at the cards in front him, exasperated.

“Excuse me?” He spins around and finds a woman who looks to be around your age. She’s looking up at him nervously and fiddling with the car in her hands.

Harry smiles politely. “Yeah?” He asks quietly as he steps out of the way of a teenager shuffling through cards and panicking.

She smiles up at him. “I overheard you talking and…” She glances down at the card in her hands before holding it out to him. “My mom, she isn’t my mom biologically, and cards are tough.”

Harry hesitantly takes the card and looks down at it. It’s a small card, with Winnie the Pooh, Kanga and Roo on the front. Harry’s eyes scan over the words printed on the front. “This is… This is great. Thank you. I-“

The woman smiles and shakes her head. “Mother’s Day was weird when I was young because I knew my mom wasn’t biologically my mom, but she was always there. You know?” Harry nods. “Finding good cards sucked, especially because so many talk about getting their genes or even the favorite kid jokes are awkward.”

Harry drops the card into his basket. “Thank you so much. It’s… We just got engaged and it’s her first official Mother’s Day with us. I want her to know how appreciative I am.”

“She will.” The woman takes a step back. “Anybody who is this worried about a card definitely shows how much they care without it anyways.” She smiles and offers a small wave before turning on her heel and leaving Harry alone in the aisle.

He looks down at the card again and with a newfound confidence in his ability to find something good for you, he ventures further into the store.

Leo’s sitting on Harry’s hip as he messed with the flowers on the dining room table. Your card is propped against the vase while the gift bag Harry had filled was next to it.

“I really hope mama likes this, little lion.” Harry murmurs as he takes a step back, finally happy with how the bouquet looks.

“Mama?” Leo questions as he rests his head against Harry’s shoulder. He lets out a yawn and Harry laughs. He had forced the poor toddler out of bed much earlier than he was used to.

Harry nods gently. “Yeah, mama. We’re gonna celebrate her today.”

“Dada.” Leo murmurs as he points haphazardly to the set up. There’s a knock on the door and Harry rushes to open it.

“Styles?” The man questions tiredly. Harry offers a sympathetic smile as he nods. He was sure this wasn't the man’s first or last breakfast delivery of the day. “Just need you to sign since you paid with a card.”

Harry adjusts Leo on his hip as he messily signs the receipt the man is holding up on the wall for him. The man looks at Harry before sighing. “Have a nice day.”

The bag handle digs into Harry’s fingers as he carries it back to the table while holding onto a sleepy Leo. “Gonna put you in your chair while I set up, then we can wake mama up.”

“Mama?” Leo repeats the word as Harry gently sets him down and straps him in. “Mama. Mama!” He calls louder, out for you.

“No! Stop!” Harry glances down the hallway panicked as he listens for any sign that you’ve woken up. When no movement comes from the hall, Harry lets his shoulders relax and begins to pull plates out of his kitchen.

It doesn’t take long to set up the already cooked food, less than half an hour before he’s picking Leo up again to go wake you up.

His nerves have been high all day, maybe all week. They’d been high since he’d begun planning this whole thing out. But right now was an all time high.

He was proud of what he’d planned, but worried you would be overwhelmed. Did you even want to celebrate? Had he gone overboard?

“Too late.” He mutters as he quietly opens your bedroom door. You’re sitting up and scrolling through your phone.

When you look up, a wide smile stretches across your face at the sight of your boys. “Good morning, loves.” You say quietly. You lock your phone and sit up straighter as Harry sits Leo in your lap.

“Mama.” Leo murmurs. He slaps his hands against your cheeks and squishes. The act makes both of you laugh.

“Hello, little lion.” You say once he’s taken his hands off. “What’s got you and daddy awake?” You look over at Harry with a knowing stare.

“We’ve got a surprise for you.” Harry says quietly. “If you wanna get up.” You nod and stand with Leo clinging to you.

You’re all still in pajamas, and Harry’s sure his hair is sticking in all different directions. The three of you make your way down the hall, Harry leading.

You freeze when you enter the dining room. Your eyes move quickly to take everything in. Harry watches nervously as he tries to gauge your reaction.

“Happy Mother’s Day.” He finally says when you take another step into the room. Leo lets out an excited, “Mama!”

You press a kiss to the baby’s head and finally move fully into the room and towards the table. “Oh, Harry.” You murmur as you look down at the spread.

“Do you… Is this okay?” He asks hesitantly. He realizes he maybe should have just bit the bullet and talked about today with you. This feeling of not knowing was killing him.

You spin around to look at him with teary eyes and a bright smile. “This is… This is more than okay. I can’t believe you did all this for me!”

He lets out a relieved laugh and leans down to press a kiss to your lips. “Anything for the best mom in the world.”

You place Leo into his chair and strap him in as Harry pulls out a chair for you. Once the three of you are settled, Harry hands the card over to you.

“Happy Mother’s Day, love.” He says quietly as you tear into the card’s envelope. “We’re so grateful for you.”

“How do you learn to be a mom?” asked Pooh.

“You just follow your heart,” Answered Kanga.

Notes: hello all. please enjoy this fluff piece for the upcoming american mother's day. hope you're all safe & doing well.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles x fem!reader #single dad harry #little lion series

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heyitsjay03 · 3 years

Note

Headcanons about each of the lords (+the Duke if you're writing about him) if they ever happen to adopt a little child?

THANK YOU ANON MY THE UNIVERSE BLESS YOU WITH PILLOWS THAT ARE COLD ON BOTH SIDES

okay okay okay okay this has definitely been on my mind so lets get into the thick of it

Alcina Dimitrescu

(im starting off with alcina for obvious reasons)

Alcina would be on the way to the church with the slimy moron, the demented doll, that disgusting manthing and Mother Miranda

She'd kiss her daughters goodbye and head off through the snow, quietly muttering about how cold her ankles were

while Moreau is literally up to his chin in snow but its fine

as she gets closer to the church she keeps hearing this. thing. it sounded familiar but she couldn't exactly put her finger on it.

she strays from the path to find it because it was just so familiar

as she weaves her way through the snow, her dress gets caught on something. she leans down to get her dress unstuck when she realises its this tiny basket.

like seriously. just a little woven basket in the middle of the snow. and it doesn't look like its been there for that long- there's hardly any snow on it

when she tugs at her skirts again, the basket makes the same noise she's been hearing

she stands back up to her full height, staring down at the basket with narrowed eyes

this cannot be a good idea, can it? opening a strange basket in the woods after being lured out here. it's probably some village manthing's trap.

she's about to step away when she hears the sound again- much more intense and much more clear

Alcina leans down and opens the lid of the basket

inside is this tiny thing- all soft and warm in a padding of blankets

a baby

she stands and looks around

who on earth would be so moronic as to leave their baby in the snow? it's much too cold for a baby to survive-

she sighs, getting onto her knees to pull the baby from the blanketed basket

the meeting will have to wait. it's too cold even in the church for this tiny thing.

when she finally makes it back home, she's greeted by her daughters in a swarm of buzzing flies.

as they manifest in their true forms, they're asking what- or who, rather- their mother brought for dinner

Alcina smiles and shakes her head, unwrapping the small bundle clinging to her breast

"this... is your new sibling" she announces, "they'll be staying with us from now on."

and the sisters are ecstatic. a new sibling!

Daniela especially is happy that she is no longer the youngest. she usually is the one to parade around the castle with her sibling on her shoulders, showing them the coolest hiding spots for hide-n-seek and the windows with the best views

Bela is incredibly protective. like. incredibly.

she smelt blood from across the castle and when she found her little sibling sniffling about a skinned knee earned from a game of tag with Angie, she lost her shit and almost broke the damned thing with her sickle

And Cassandra has been caught reading bedtime stories by nightlight multiple times. she tries to play it off but everyone knows that she loves- absolutely adores- her newest sibling

we all know Alcina is such a wonderful mother to the girls so adding another baby to the mix was a guaranteed success

she's so doting and careful (a little overprotective at times but she means well) as she is with her girls

as the child grows into a teen, she panics a bit because "my beautiful baby is growing into such a beautiful, talented adult" so expect a lot of late night visits when she just sits on the edge of her bed and just admires how much you've grown

Salvatore Moreau:

now this one is an easy one too if i'm 100% honest

think Moses type beat

(if you don't know, Moses was found in the riverbank in a little basket)

apparently i really like baskets

anyways

Moreau was so out of his element when he found this tiny, screaming, writhing piece of soft flesh

the first few weeks were rough

but he eventually got the hang of it (with Alcina's help of course)

he would take his child fishing every now and then- just the two of them out on a boat for a few hours

the kid would literally swim more than walk and that little fact would make Moreau so freakin proud

also this kid would be so well-versed in movie and film history it's stupid

like expect this little 4 or 5 year old babbling not about toys or snow or how many sticks they found but instead about the copyright war over the film Nosferatu and the destruction of its copies

Moreau, as the child gets older (like 11 or 12) would have just a tad of trouble trying to keep the kid out of the village

he'd wake up one day and go out onto the lake, expecting his child to be swinging their legs off the dock and watching the sun rise over the water

and when he finds that they were not, in fact, swinging their legs off the dock and watching the sun rise over the water, he p a n i c s

i mean, full blown red alert

all of the lords are summoned to help Moreau look for his missing kid, the lycans are given an article of clothing to help find the scent, Mother Miranda goes to search the village herself- the whole shebang

and when the kid is found playing with the village children, Moreau bursts into tears

needless to say, the kid isn't allowed to go to the village anymore

until they're fifty (Moreau's words, of course)

but the kid sneaks off more and more as they get older, using Alcina or Donna or Karl as an excuse to be away

and Moreau knows but he never says a word

seeing his child happy and free with the kids their age makes him happy, even if he is a tad, a tad, a tad bit nervous

Donna Beneviento:

when Donna found this child huddled up against the base of the stairs leading up to her front door, she at first thought it was a doll of hers

it was only when she actually walked outside that she realised it was this shaking, shriveled child in tattered clothes

she spent a good five minutes just staring, wondering how on earth she's supposed to react

that's when Angie jumped in and pulled at her skirt, telling her to "let the kid inside, already!"

Donna went immediately to work on some clothes- why on earth were they wearing such ragged things?! it's freezing outside!- while Angie entertained in the parlour

honestly, it didn't go well

the kid was a little bit unsettled by the floating doll that moved and spoke on its own FOR GOOD REASON

and when Donna walked back in with her measurement tape and some fabric, the kid backed themselves into a corner of the room with their gangly legs tucked into their chest

Angie sighs from the opposite side of the room, letting her little feet fidget as she gestures to the kid. "they're no fun" she pouts, "wouldn't even let me know their name"

Donna puts her materials down slowly and lifts her veil back before attempting a small smile

it takes a while but upon the offer of food, the kid finally lets Donna make them some clothes while Angie makes conversation

she works in silence, only offering small awkward smiles

Angie finally brings up the topic of where their parents are when the kid's clothes are done

when the child goes silent, Donna nods in understanding before hurrying off to make a room for them

as Angie helped tug the blankets up to the child's ears, they promised they'd be gone in the morning

Angie was the one to tell them off.

"You'll stay as long as you need, you silly goose!"

and the child did

Donna would let them tag along for meetings so long as they promised to keep quiet and help keep Angie out of trouble

most of the time, it didn't work and they both would end up in trouble but Donna let them come nonetheless

and when the other Lords question where on earth this little kid came from- all dressed in black fabric that matched Donna's dress, she just shook her head and let Angie chase them off verbally

she'd spend literal HOURS locked in that workshop making new little friends for her child and when they were old enough, she'd let them into the workshop

and when they were even older, she'd walk them through making their very first doll on their own

she'd just watch with pride as they carefully painted the freckles with a shaky hand while Angie danced around their ankles singing of how excited she was to have another friend

The Duke:

he would be setting up shop near the base of the Dimitrescu castle when he catches a kid trying to steal some his wares

he wouldn't be terribly upset, more concerned

it wasn't something shiny or expensive that they were trying to steal

it was some of the steaming-hot food he had left to cool in the wintry air

he confronted the child gently and with a warm smile

"That's cordon bleu," he says, gesturing to the steaming plate. "I can make you some if you'd like"

and as the child eats, the Duke continues tidying up his shop for any future customers

the child, through a mouthful of food, points to different items and asks their purpose, their price, their possible enhancements

the Duke answers each question with patience, happy for the company

but he doesn't just let the questions go one-way

"How about a trade?" he asks as the child asks about the strange-looking bottle of green liquid. "An answer for an answer."

the child agrees and the Duke starts to peel back layers of why the child was here looking for food

they had been orphaned by the last lycan attack, only barely making it out by fleeing into the woods

they tried to forage off of berry bushes and successfully managed to kill a pig- only for the blood to attract lycans before they could properly eat it

the Duke nods and continues busying himself with his shop, feeding the horse that pulls the wagon

the thought had hit him when he watched the child petting his horse

that horse hated everyone. including him at times.

maybe...

when he offered to take the child in, the kid nearly burst into tears and thanked him repeatedly, swearing to earn their keep

and they did, seven times over

what started off as a purely business venture morphed into something more as time went on

when the child would come back from selling smaller household items like gasoline and the occasional package of bullets, the Duke would have them climb onto the roof of the wagon and watch the sun set together with a plate of food

speaking of which, like Moreau, the Duke would raise the most cultured child

this kid would know how to prepare and identify different dishes and their ingredients just by looking at them or smelling them

and their palate would be far more sophisticated than most adults

the Duke, as the child gets older, would eventually allow them to choose destinations to set up shop- even outside of the village

wherever his child wants, the shop would go

it allows them to see the world and its earthly wares together- something the Duke had lacked in his life before the child was brought into the picture

Karl Heisenberg:

listen to me very very carefully

this man would be the most chaotic father ever to walk this earthly realm

when he finds this kid in the elevator of his factory, he's kinda standing there like 🧍 "what the hell-"

and when the kid starts spamming the button while maintaining eye contact, he kinda snaps out of it and starts chasing after them as they drop down to a different floor

it goes on for a solid twenty minutes before he finally managed to track them down in the corner of his office

and when i say this man is confused, i freaking mean it

i mean

why the HELL would some random kid be in his factory? don't they like... play with ponies or something at this age?

to be fair, this man literally has never been allowed a childhood so

obviously he starts scolding the kid ("what the hell are you doin' in here? it's dangerous and there's some really freaky shit here, kid"), dragging them to a nearby sink because "holy shit kid, you're filthy"

the kid is silent essentially the whole time, just kinda staring into his eyes

and of course Karl's gonna be like "...the fuck're you doin'?"

the kid's face is cleaned off and Karl sends them back out towards the village with a scratchy blanket he pulled out of the bottom of his desk drawer

he's working on his 'equipment' one day when he starts reaching for a wrench, keeping his focus on the body on the table

when i say this man jumps skyhigh at the kid asking a question, i mean it

he drags the kid back out, yelling about how dangerous it is and how "you shouldn't do that! you're gonna get yourself killed! go back home!"

the kid doesn't listen

it becomes a regular thing- Karl finds the kid wandering around the factory, Karl brings the kid out of danger, Karl tells them to get lost

eventually (day thirteen of this) he asks why the child keeps coming back

and he hates the answer he gets

it was something along the lines of "it's warm and there's nowhere else for me to go"

so Karl reluctantly eagerly lets them stay

it's a lot of rules at first (a kid shouldn't be allowed to just wander around a bunch of mindless cyborg killers, let alone a factory) but eventually the child learns to mind Sturm and the others

doesn't mean Karl does not have a fullblown heart attack when he walks into his workspace to find the kid tracing their finger along the center of the battery for the Soldats

after a very long talk (and some deep breathing) Karl reluctantly eagerly lets them sit against the very far wall to watch him work on the machinery- not, under any circumstances, the actual bodies

as the child blossoms into a young adult, they start to help out with certain aspects of Karl's work

exclusively machinery because Karl could not physically handle having his kid watch him get elbow-deep into a corpse

and Karl is so freaking proud of it

when the Soldat is kicked to life, he's got his kid in his arms and cackling like the proud dad he is

yeah. paternal Heisenberg>>>

#anon ask #anon #karl heisenberg #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #re8 #resident evil 8 #the duke #resident evil village #resident evil #resident evil village fanfiction #gender neutral #headcanons #re8 headcanons #resident evil headcanons #resident evil village headcanons #yeah i had a lot of fun with this #thank you again anon

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simplee-dreaming · 3 years

Text

The Runner (Part 2)

(Part 1 here)

A/N: THIS IS MY 50TH FIC WTF!! Ngl I'm not so confident about this one but that's just my anxiety being a demon. I hope you all like it.

Word count: 3823

Summary: With Darren being on the warpath, Chris takes great care of the reader...along with some friends.

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

The next day you walked into work with a big smile on your face. Last night you shared food with Chris Evans, watched a film with Chris Evans, got into a tickle fight with Chris Evans and ended up being cuddled by Chris Evans. You were certainly on cloud nine right now.

“Black coffee for Mr Evans please! Black coffee!” a call came over the radio. You strode into the kitchen to make it but found another runner already on the case.

“Nevermind,” you thought to yourself. There’s no way you were gonna go the whole of today without seeing him anyway.

You turned on your heel to leave but walked straight into Darren.

“Oh, um, sorry, I-I didn’t see you there,” you stuttered.

“Watch where you’re going,” he said, sternly.

“Sorry,” you repeated.

“There’s a mess on the set, you need to clean it up before the next scene begins shooting,” he demanded. You looked at him.

“But, I’m not a cleaner?” You said, puzzled.

“You were perfectly happy to clean the set a few weeks back,” he said.

“Well yeah but-”

“No excuses, clean up that mess now,” he interrupted, marching out of the kitchen. You sighed but decided not to argue.

You went onto the set and helped the cleaners with the mess.

A few hours had passed and you were sitting on set filling out an accident form. Apparently, Sebastian Stan had slipped on set whilst filming and managed to cut his hand. Only a tiny cut, but any accident has to be filed. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to sit with Seb and fill it out but was given the details by his assistant, Jane.

You got up and walked into the set office, where all the paperwork was kept, and filed away the accident form. When you walked back onto the set, Darren was standing there staring at you. He lifted up his hand and ordered you to go over to him. You slowly walked over and stood in front of him.

“So what exactly did you do to clean the set earlier today?” He asked.

“I...I swept up the debris. I just cleared the mess,” you replied.

“You cleaned the floor, didn’t you?”

“I cleared it yeah but I-”

“You cleaned the floor and left it in a slippery state. No wonder Mr Stan slipped over,”

“No, but, I..I just cleared it! I never-”

“He could have broken a bone,”

“I didn’t clean it, I only swept!” You protested. Darren grunted at you and walked off, leaving you feeling deflated.

The rest of the day you were silent. You didn’t dare speak to anyone in case they thought the same as Darren. When your lunch break finally came around, you walked outside to the back of the studios and sat in a quiet corner where all you could hear was the wind sweeping through the trees and the birds singing. You finished your lunch in silence, a single tear escaping from your eye.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you all day!” said a familiar voice. You looked up to see Chris walking towards you. A smile involuntarily grew on your lips.

“Oh, hey!” You said, quickly wiping away the tear.

“What’s wrong? Have you been crying?” He asked, sitting on the bench next to you.

“No. No, I’m fine,” you replied.

“You have been crying. What’s the matter?”

“I’m fine,”

“No you’re not,”

“Yes I am, I promise. I’m fine,” you said, a little too quickly. Chris gently put his hand on top of yours.

“What’s happened?” He asked, softly. You looked at him, then looked down and burst into tears. He pulled you in for a tight cuddle.

“It’s all my fault,” you sobbed into his chest.

“What is?” he asked.

“Seb. I made Seb slip. He’s hurt because of me,” you cried.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Chris asked, rubbing your arm.

“I cleaned the set earlier, I must’ve put something down because Seb slipped and cut himself and it’s my fault,”

“Seb didn’t slip?” Chris said, confused.

“What?”

“Seb didn’t slip, he tripped and fell over. That’s how he cut his hand, he grabbed onto a bit of the set for support and caught a sharp edge. He never slipped,” Chris said. You looked up at him.

“So...so it wasn’t me?” You asked.

“Of course not, he’s just a clumsy idiot. The floor wasn’t slippery at all. Plus, he’s fine. Just got a big boy plaster on,” he chuckled.

“But...but Darren said-”

“What did Darren say?” Chris asked, more seriously.

“Darren said Seb slipped. And that it was my fault because I cleaned the set earlier but I didn’t remember actually putting any product down to clean and I thought I only swept the set which it seems is all I did and-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, breathe. Darren told you this was your fault?” Chris asked. You nodded.

“Right, I’m going to talk to him,” Chris said, standing up.

“No no please, he already hates me. If you say something then he’ll know I told on him and he’ll be even worse,” you begged.

“Y/N, he cannot treat you like this,”

“It’s fine, I can handle it,” you lied.

“He made you cry, Y/N. That is not okay. I’m going to speak to him,” Chris said. He walked off and you ran after him. When you turned the corner, you both ran straight into Seb.

“Whoa Speedy Gonzales, slow down!” Seb said, catching you as you tripped over Chris’ foot.

“S-sorry,” you said. You looked up and suddenly registered who was in front of you.

“Oh god. Oh I’m so sorry, Mr Stan, I didn’t mean to-”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay,” Chris said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him and took a few deep breaths.

“Ohh so you’re Y/N. Chris has been telling me all about you, it’s nice to put a face to a name,” Seb said, smiling at you. You gave a shaky smile back. He looked at Chris.

“Where are you off to?”

“Going to see my assistant,” Chris said, sternly.

“Ah yes, ‘Divine Darren’,” Seb said, sarcastically. “More like Distasteful Darren.”

“Well, quite. He’s been so unpleasant to Y/N, so I’m going to talk to him,” Chris said, he sounded very angry.

“Chris please, it will only make things worse,” you begged. Seb looked at your worried face and looked back at Chris.

“I think she’s right, Chris. At least wait a little bit until you’re calmer. Then I’ll come and back you up,” Seb said. Chris let out a sigh then looked at you. His face softened.

“Okay. But he’s not going to get away with this,” Chris said. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good lad,” Seb said, patting Chris’ shoulder. He then turned to you.

“So, you’re the reason our Chris was so chirpy this morning, eh?” He said. You blushed.

“W-well...I...um…” you stammered. What had Chris told Seb?

“Seb…” Chris warned.

“What? I’ve gotta be polite to your new tickle attacker!” Seb said.

“SEB!” Chris cried.

“Chris told me you used his weakness against him last night. Nice to have you on board Y/N,” Seb winked at you. You let out a nervous giggle, praying that Chris didn’t tell Seb that you shared the same weakness.

“Although, it seems you may struggle more. We can’t have someone who is equally as ticklish on the front line until he’s not strong enough to retaliate,” Seb said. He winked at you again and smirked.

Fuck. He knew.

“Anyway, gotta get ready for my next scene. Catch you both later,” Seb waved goodbye and walked off.

You turned to Chris and punched him in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?!” He exclaimed.

“You told him?” You asked.

“Ohh...yeah...yeah I did,” he said, giggling. You punched him again.

“Ow! Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I just had a great night last night and couldn’t keep my mouth shut,” he said. You couldn’t help but smile.

“So did I,” you replied. He chuckled and pulled you in for a hug. You relaxed in his arms until he squeezed your side.

“Hey!” You yelped.

“That was for punching me,” he said.

You sighed and walked back into the studios with him, ready to get back to work.

The day finally came to a close. Scenes were wrapping up shooting and members of the crew were packing up to go home. You had purposefully been avoiding Darren all day, terrified of what he may try and do next.

Chris has invited you to his caravan again for another movie night, so you decided to quickly clean up the kitchen area before you clocked out. You took the half-filled jug of coffee out of its hold and turned to pour it down the sink. But, as you turned, someone knocked into the back of you and you dropped the jug which smashed all over the floor.

“What the hell are you playing at?!” Yelled Darren from behind you. You swiftly turned around.

No words came out of your mouth, just incoherent babbling.

“Look at what you’ve done! You’ve smashed the bloody jug you blundering idiot!” He yelled. You took a step backwards and slipped slightly on the spilt coffee, you held the kitchen side for support as tears leaked down your face.

“I-I didn’t mean….I never meant to...it was an accident!” You cried.

“You did that on purpose. You’ve been messing about ever since you started here. Have you any idea the damage you’ve caused?!”

You burst into tears, frightened of the man standing before you.

“Hey hey, back off!” A voice said behind Darren. He turned around slightly and there stood Scarlett and Lizzie, both with their arms folded.

“Did you see what she did? She broke the coffee jug!” Darren exclaimed, gesturing at you.

“Then buy another one,” Scarlett said, shrugging.

“Better yet, buy another one secretly and we won’t tell anyone that you purposely fell into her,” Lizzie said.

“What? I never fell into her! Stupid girl tripped over,” he said, a wobble in his voice. Both women titled their heads and raised their eyebrows at the same time.

“She dropped it all by herself! She’s caused nothing but havoc since she started,” he tried to explain but the girls were having none of it.

“Grrr. Out of my way,” Darren huffed. He pushed past Scarlett and Lizzie and marched off.

“Hey, are you okay?” Lizzie asked, approaching you. You shook your head and burst into tears. Lizzie drew you in for a hug.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Scarlett asked.

“Y/N,” you responded, quietly.

“Oh goodness, you’re Y/N! Chris has mentioned you a few times today. He’s waiting for you, we'll take you to him,” said Lizzie.

“B-but the mess…” you stammered.

“Leave it, we’ll clean it up,” Scarlett said.

She and Lizzie each put an arm around you and guided you away from the kitchen. Chris was standing at the back of the studios, near the caravan park. His posture straightened up when he saw you, but his face grew more concerned as you approached.

“Oh my god, are you okay Y/N? What happened?” He asked. Scarlett looked at him and raised one eyebrow.

“No. No no. This wasn’t Darren again was it?!” He said, his voice getting louder. “Where is he? I’ll kill him!”

“Chris, he’s probably gone home by now,” Lizzie said. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head.

“That little….he has no right treating you like his,” he said. You tilted your head down. He drew in a deep breath and took you from Scar and Lizzie, wrapping you in a hug.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” he said, stroking your hair. You cried into his shoulders and hugged him tightly.

“Tell you what, Seb’s using the green room to relax in for a bit this evening. Shall we go and join him?” He asked.

“Will he mind?” You replied, lifting your head slightly.

“Not at all! We could have a group film night if you’re both up for it too?” Chris asked. Scarlett and Lizzie nodded. Chris put his arm around you and all four of you walked to the green room.

“Knock knock,” said Chris, entering the room. Seb was sat on the sofa, scrolling through Netflix.

“Hey man, how’s it going?” Seb asked, turning to greet you all. “Ooh more guests, this is exciting. What’s the occasion?”

“Another incident happened. We thought we could join you and watch a movie together?” Chris said.

“Why of course! The more the merrier!” Seb said. He shuffled up a bit on the sofa and Chris placed you between himself and Seb.

“I’m gonna go grab some food. Do you two mind helping me?” Chris said, gesturing at Lizzie and Scarlett. They both followed him out and into the kitchen area. Coffee and bits of jug were still splattered on the floor so Lizzie bent down to start cleaning it up.

“What happened?” Chris asked.

“Y/N was cleaning this area. She went to wash out the coffee jug and Darren purposely bumped into her so she dropped the jug and he had a proper go at her. She was terrified,” Scar informed him. He hung his head.

“I can’t let him get away with treating her like that,” he responded.

“Well, what are you gonna do?” Lizzie asked, sweeping the floor.

“I don’t know yet. But he’s not getting away lightly,” Chris said. “Do you think she’s okay?”

“I don’t know. I think she’s just putting on a brave face,” Scarlett said.

Chris, Scarlett and Lizzie finished cleaning the kitchen and grabbed some bags of popcorn to take back to the room. When they returned, they found you leaning forwards with your head in your hands and Seb rubbing your back.

“What’s happened??” Chris asked. He put down the popcorn and sat next to you, putting his arm around you.

“She keeps saying everything that happened today is her fault. I’ve told her it isn’t but she’s pretty shook up,” Seb whispered softly.

“Oh Y/N. Nothing that has happened is your fault! We’ve been through this my lovely,” Chris said, gently.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you mumbled.

“What? Chris said.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you said, standing up from the sofa and heading for the door. Chris grabbed your arm.

“Whoa whoa whoa, steady on. Where are you going?”

“Darren was right. I have no right being here. I’m just a runner.”

Another tear fell down your face and Chris’ heart broke.

“Y/N, listen to me. Yes, you are a runner but that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be here. Runners are an important asset to the studios, how else would I get my coffee?! Besides, you’re not just a runner. You’re incredible. You’re the first non-celebrity that hasn’t treated me like royalty and it’s a breath of fresh air,” Chris said. You looked up at him.

“Really?”

“Yes really! Don’t want you bowing down to kiss my feet, they’re not that great,” he said. You gave a shy giggle.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you in for a cuddle. You happily accepted and relaxed slightly in his arms.

“Now then you, we’re gonna have a great movie night, yes?” He asked, you nodded. “Good, but I want you to be happy before we start. Where’s that smile?”

He had a hint of playfulness in his voice. You knew what was coming but didn’t want to fight it, so you buried your head further into his chest.

“Come on...where is it?” He teased. He started poking up and down your sides and you squirmed.

You murmured a giggle into his chest as he continued to poke you.

“Where’s that smile?” He teased. You giggled louder as the pokes turned into squeezes.

“Chrihihihis!” You squealed, trying to twist out of his grip.

“Where are you going?” He asked, bending his head slightly to look at you. His hands squeezed your sides and tickled your ribs, making you squeal. You put your hands on Chris’ stomach to push him away but decided to tickle his tummy instead.

“Hehey!” He yelped, stepping backwards and releasing you from his grip. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“So that’s how you wanna play…” he said. The playful tone in his voice made you giggle but also kicked in the instinct to turn on your heel and run.

Bad move.

Chris lunged at you, as you turned, and picked you up - spinning you in the air before lying you flat on the sofa. You shrieked.

“No Chris!” You pleaded as he sat next to you, trapping you between him and the back of the sofa. He cackled evilly and started squeezing your sides again. You shrieked and kicked your legs out.

Seb, Lizzie and Scar all shared a smile as they watched Chris tease you.

“Show me that smile,” he teased once more. You were going bright red in the face and tried to bat his hands away, but you couldn’t stop giggling.

“Hey Chris, I think it may be in here,” Seb said. Before you realised what was about to happen, Seb had placed his fingers in the crook of your neck and started wiggling them.

“WAIHIHIHIT! You cried, not expecting Sebastian Stan to join in. You scrunched up your shoulders, trapping his hands in your neck, and shrieked.

“Wow, Chris, you’re right. She’s super ticklish!” He teased. Your face turned ruby red as you twisted and turned on the sofa.

“NOHO I’M NOHOHOT!” You cried.

“Oh yes you are,” Seb said. His hands trailed down to underneath you and started tickling your shoulder blades. The noise you made was different to any other you had ever made before.

“Whoa, I think you found a bad spot,” Chris laughed. He started squeezing and spider tickling your tummy and you let out a scream. You kicked your legs frantically as your arms waved around trying to stop the attacks.

“Girls, we need your help!” Seb said. Scarlett and Lizzie looked at each other and laughed. Scarlett got up and approached you.

She positioned herself next to Chris and gently fluttered her fingers over your kicking feet. No one had you pinned so you were free to twist and kick as much as you liked, but as soon as you twisted from one pair of hands you fell right into another.

“Does this tickle Y/N? Does it? Tickle tickle tickle!” Chris teased, now spider tickling your waistline.

“STOHOHOHP SAHAHAYING THAT!” You cried.

“Oh but you’re so fun to tease!” Chris said, laughing evilly.

Lizzie looked over at Chris and narrowed her eyes. Then, a thought hit her. She slowly crept up behind Chris before lunging at him, sitting on top of him so he was pinned to the floor. She wasted no time in shoving her hands under his armpits and wiggling her fingers.

“WHAHAHAT THE HEHEHELL?! AHAHAHAHA!” Chris yelled, taken aback by the sudden attack.

Seb and Scarlett instantly stopped tickling you so you could all watch the action unfold.

“Does this tickle Chris? Does it? Tickle tickle tickle!” She cooed, repeating his own teases. He thrashed below her and boomed out a laugh. You started giggling too.

“I’ve got him, Y/N. Come and get your own back,” she said, turning her head to wink at you. You jumped off the sofa and basically slid over to him.

“Do any of you know his worst spot?” You asked.

“His ears. Get the spot just behind the right one and flutter your fingers over the top of his left one and you’ll have him a babbling mess below you,” Seb said...a little too quickly.

You grinned at him. Lizzie stopped tickling but kept her hands positioned under his arms. You followed Seb’s instructions and, before you knew it, Chris was a babbling mess on the floor. A mix of squeals, giggles and high pitched laughs came out of him as he twisted his head from side to side. Every time he tried to lift his arms to stop you, Lizzie would tickle his armpits and he’d slam them back down again.

“Cootchie cootchie coo, Chris…” you teased. Your heart did somersaults at the sound of his precious laugh.

All of a sudden, Chris let out a booming laugh and jolted his body. You looked up and found Seb trapping one of Chris’ feet with one hand and using the other to scrape up and down his sole. Seb looked at you.

“His feet are his second worst,” he informed you.

You and Lizzie were too distracted by Seb tickling Chris’ foot that neither of you noticed him lifting up his arms. Because you were sitting right next to him, he managed to grab you and pull you over his torso. He held you close to him as his hand trailed up and down your back and sides. You shrieked loudly and bucked your body.

“CHRIHIHIHIS NOHOHOHO!” You cried.

Seb stopped tickling Chris and instead made a lunge for your foot, trapping it in the same way and raking his fingers up and down it. You burst into a loud laughter.

“Oh dear, we really are trapped now aren’t we?” Scarlett teased. She shoved her hands between you and Chris and started tickling both your tummies at the same time. You both shrieked loudly. Lizzie giggled and decided to join Chris in tickling your sides and back. Chris was giggling below you but you were screaming and shrieking before falling into a silent laughter. You hid your face in Chris’ torso and jolted your whole body. They all took this as the sign to stop.

You lay on top of Chris, getting your breath back. He was still giggling which made you giggle more.

“You okay?” He asked, now stroking your hair. You nodded and placed your head on his chest.

“You passed the initiation,” Seb said. You lifted your head and looked at him, brows furrowed.

“What?” You asked.

“You passed the initiation. You got through our torture without murdering us,” he laughed. You got off of Chris and sat on the floor, still giggling. Chris sat up too.

“You’re officially one of us now. That will never change,” he said, pulling you in for a cuddle. “And tomorrow, I promise, I will sort out this mess. Darren will never treat you so badly again, I promise.”

“Just don’t ever clean the set again,” Seb teased. You scoffed and playfully punched him, making him laugh.

Seb, Scarlett and Lizzie shuffled forward and all four cast members engulfed you in a massive hug. You felt so safe and secure, all of your worries left you for that evening.

Tomorrow is a new day.

#tickle fic #avengers cast tickle fic

81 notes · View notes

floralseokjin · 3 years

Text

⤑ made-up love song drabbles

First meeting: Seokjin’s POV

kim seokjin x reader warnings; none! words; 2,443

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

Seokjin was having the worst morning. He was usually in work by now. An early start to the day was the only way to start the day, so maybe that’s why he was thrown for a loop right now. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong. But he shouldn’t think like that, after all, he’d promised Arin he’d take her to school this morning. He was embarrassed to admit this, but Arin had been living with him officially for six weeks and he hadn’t once driven her here. It was unacceptable he knew that, but he was learning quickly that juggling a demanding job and being there for his daughter wasn’t easy. Perhaps Nana had a point…

At the thought of his ex-wife, he grimaced, remembering the massive argument they’d had two months ago. The one that had triggered Arin’s move. When it came to Nana he often found himself harsh with his words. Not that she wasn’t with hers either. They had grown so used to lashing out at one another over the years it was hard to stop, even if their divorce was coming up to two years ago now. That’s what his therapist said anyway, and Seokjin just listened, knowing she was correct just unable to think of a way to change it, despite the countless advice Mrs. Shin had given him over the months, years.

He and Nana both worked hectic and testing jobs. They were alike it that way, ambitious and driven. That’s what had attracted him to her in the first place, yet it was the thing that had ruined them soon enough. With age, especially after the birth of Arin, he found himself mellowing out. He was no longer in such a rush to get to the top, or to be the best. Maybe that was hypocritical of him, seeing as a few years ago he had become CEO, taking his father’s place. There was no higher. He had nothing more to chase.

Nana continued to work long hours, motherhood not slowing her down in the slightest. Not that it should. Stereotypes weren’t his style, but it was beyond frustrating when all he wanted to do was spend time together as a family and Nana was too busy preoccupied elsewhere. She loved Arin, he had never doubted that and never would, but sometimes his exasperation outweighed his rationality. When Arin had come to live with him he was so determined to prove Nana wrong. He could easily do both – work and be a father. Of course, he wasn’t stupid, he had known he’d need help, and Misook was more than he could have ever asked for, but he had always been stubborn.

The weekends were great. On his he would organise a bunch of things for he and Arin to do, and on Nana’s weekend he’d use the time to catch up on any work he had remaining from the week. Only, a fortnight ago Nana had cancelled the night before. Arin had been devastated obviously, there was video call of course, but it wasn’t the same for a six year old. He had been left to pick up the pieces, not to mention he had fallen behind on paperwork – and still hadn’t caught up. Hopefully this weekend would be better, but he wasn’t holding his breath.

He sighed to himself as he fiddled with the handsfree. Why wasn’t his cell phone connecting?! He knew he should have taken the other car. Weekdays were the most difficult. He just about saw Arin in the mornings and most evenings he came home past 6pm meaning he just had about enough time to eat dinner with her and catch up before it was time to get her ready for bed. It wasn’t fair on her, she deserved more of his time and he missed her terribly, but time was extremely difficult to find. That’s why he’d driven her to school today, he’d been promising for weeks, ever since she’d started at Primrose Hill actually. He didn’t want to be a let-down.

He’d chosen today, a Thursday, because it was thankfully a quiet morning. Well, had supposed to be a quiet morning. Soobin’s call just before he’d left home had not been something he’d wanted to receive. The web conference with Mr. Lee wasn’t supposed to be until mid-morning but of course the impatient so-and-so had missed the memo – or just completely ignored it seemed more probable.

Seokjin’s headache grew worse at the thought of today. He’d already popped two painkillers early this morning when Arin had woken him up prematurely by jumping up and down on his bed. She was excited, he understood that, but Christ was she loud at 5am. At least he knew she loved her new school, that was all that mattered. He’d been so worried in the beginning, taking his time to choose a smaller school so she wouldn’t be so overwhelmed. It worked out perfectly though. She adored Primrose Hill, and her teacher actually, which he was thankful for. It was always Miss. Y/L/N this and Miss. Y/L/N that… Oh, that reminded him, there was that parent teacher meeting tomorrow afternoon. He couldn’t miss that, no matter what was happening at the office. He was glad he’d had a test run today actually. Shamefully he hadn’t been here in person yet, doing the entirety of the application process via phone call and the internet. The principal had understood, but that wasn’t the point. He needed to do better. He was trying to do better.

This time he let out a yell of frustration as his phone told him yet again it had failed to connect via Bluetooth. He gave up, Mr. Lee would just have to wait until he was in the office to take his call. This was crazy, what on earth could the man want so early in the morning?! There was no emergency. He dropped his phone to his lap and started up the vehicle in haste, wasting no time in reversing out of the spot – Thump!

His car had collided with something. With his heart in his stomach he hit the brakes immediately, looking out the rear view mirror to see a white car. The something he’d hit. Shit. This day had just gone from bad to worse. Panicked, he drove forward, back into the space and turned the engine off quickly. He hopped out, acting on instinct, forgetting his phone was in his lap as it clattered to the floor. Thankfully the screen didn’t smash, and he didn’t stop, picking it up in a rush. No sooner had he come into view, the occupant of the white car was getting out of the driver’s seat too.

“Are you okay?” He asked you immediately, the panic shrill in his voice. He was always such a competent driver. The only time he’d ever sped was when Arin was about to be born, rushing Nana to the hospital at two in the morning after her waters had broken. Now look at him. What a mess.

He found himself babbling, not even giving you a chance to respond. “I am so sorry, Miss.” At that precise moment in time his phone started to ring again. “I really am. I was–”

He had tried to ignore it, he really had, but the noise was just plain irritating and now he found himself quite mad. Stopping abruptly midsentence he let out a huff and picked up. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I –”

“Mr. Kim, where are you? There’s something–” Mr. Lee tried interrupting, but Seokjin wasn’t having any of it.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.”

“An emergency? What kind? It better not be to do with –”

“Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.” Seokjin hung up quickly. He’d deal with the consequences later. Not that he’d let that son of a bitch walk all over him. He never had. Immediately, his attention was back on you. There were pressing issues at hand here. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?”

He made his way over to the spot he’d hit, just above your back wheel and crouched down, inspecting the damage. “Oh god.” He grimaced slightly. The paint was scratched pretty deep but luckily there were no dents. Still, he’d been foolish. This was entirely his fault.

“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself, looking behind him at the culprit. It had taken the paint clean off. Brushing a hand through his hair, he noticed you were beside him now, still not having said a word. He caught a hint of your perfume, unconsciously noting how pleasant it was.

“What happened?” You asked him, your tone of voice taking him by surprise. You had every right to be angry of course, but couldn’t you see how sincere he was being? He looked up, composing himself hopefully. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”

“Were you on your phone?”

“I’m sorry?” On cue the damn device started ringing again. Mr. Lee was on thin ice. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, realising what you meant as he shoved the phone into the inside pocket of his jacket. He straightened up, standing directly opposite you now as you crossed your arms, waiting for his explanation it seemed. He couldn’t help but notice the way you strained as tall as you could get. As if you were trying to appear imposing. Not that you weren’t unnerving right now. It was just the action was pretty… No. He wasn’t even going to think it because he didn’t want to be at all condescending.

“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” Seokjin cringed at himself. He so obviously sounded flustered. He just couldn’t help it. There was something about you that made him nervous, and it wasn’t just because you looked so livid right now. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped himself, suddenly realising something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”

“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive. “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.”

Seokjin tried his best not to smile. Now it was your turn to try and not get flustered. The way your hands waved about animatedly as you spoke was…charming. Was that appropriate to say? You were watching him again, a look on your face that made him uneasy. Maybe it was because, and he hated to think this yet again, but maybe it was because you were so pretty. God, he sounded like a little kid. You were very attractive, did that make it sound any better? Probably not. Here you were well within your right to be mad at him, and here he was thinking such inappropriate thoughts about you. Well, that sounded weird. He didn’t mean like that. He just thought you were really pretty. He was spiralling over nothing.

“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?”

Your question threw him. “Work here? No.”

“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?”

He watched as you folded your arms again and his eyes widened in horror as he realised his mistake. “Oh no. I didn’t realise…” This was just great. Now he looked like an idiot. That or just plain rude.

“It’s signposted.”

Yup, just plain rude it was.

“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising it was no good trying to explain himself. You probably didn’t care about his morning. “There’s no excuses for this. I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.” He apologised, lowering his head. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”

“There’s no need,” you interrupted almost instantly, sounding baffled.

“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.” He was only speaking the truth. Most insurance companies didn’t even want to know.

“No, thank you.” You voice sounded tight, clipped.

He could sense your irritation but couldn’t understand why. “No?”

“I don’t need your help or your money.” You declared.

Now, there was no need to be stubborn about it. He’d phrased it wrong, admittedly. He wasn’t flaunting his money around the place. At all. He was only trying to help. In fact, he needed to do this. It was his fault. “But I did this.”

“It’s fine, just –” You stopped when his phone started ringing again, glancing at the chest. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.”

Turning your back to him you glanced at your watch. “Wait,” he called out.

“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car ready to dive back into the driver’s seat.

Seokjin’s frustration was about to hit its limit. Why wouldn’t you listen to him, and why wouldn’t his cell phone just shut the hell up?! “But – Argh!” He let out a yell, the shrilling of his phone loud and he yanked it out of his pocket roughly.

It was his assistant. Mr. Lee was probably hounding him too. He picked up. “Soobin, what is it?!”

“Mr. Lee, he’s –”

“Yes, I already told him I’m –”

“He said it’s extremely important. His suppliers are being difficult.”

“What? He said they were reliable.” Seokjin ran a hand through his hair, feeling defeat wash through him. Today had beaten him and it was only 8am. As Soobin’s voice carried through the speaker, Seokjin watched you slam your door shut and whizz into one of the only parking spots.

It wouldn’t sit right on his conscience if he left things like this, he’d damaged your car. He needed to make things right. Immediately. Or almost immediately. He’d sort things out with Mr. Lee as fast as he could and then call Jimin. Yes, that sounded like a great idea. He actually found himself smiling a little as he watched you walk towards the school building, a determinedness in your stride that was indeed admirable. You’d certainly left an impression, that was for sure.

The one he’d left on you, however, was embarrassing…

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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all-hail-the-witcher · 4 years

Text

leaves

this started as a hc but turned into a long thing about geralt being a huge softie. enjoy.

___

jaskier collects leaves that he thinks are pretty during the fall and presses them in his song writing notebook so he can look at them during the winter when all the leaves are gone. and, he'd never admit this to anyone, but he knows exactly where each leaf came from, and what he and geralt were doing when he found them, so they help him stay close to geralt in the cold months when he's away at kaer morhen.

geralt doesnt understand the fascination cause “they're just leaves jaskier” and gets kinda grumpy when jaskier walks extra slow during the fall to admire and inspect the leaves. but he secretly enjoys the way that jaskiers face lights up in front of their camp fire at night as he shows geralt each leaf he collected that day and tucks them safely into the pages of his notebook.

jaskier used to show them to roach to inspect but after she ate a particularly beautiful one on accident he does not allow her anywhere near his precious leaves.

one year jaskier and geralt part ways a little earlier than normal, geralt deciding to begin the trek to kaer morhen sooner than he normally would due to a lack of contracts so jaskier goes to oxenfurt earlier as well. the leaves are just beginning to change color as they part ways.

a few nights into the journey geralt is making camp for himself and roach when he sees a bright red leaf sitting on the forest floor, exactly the kind of leaf that jaskier would pick up and admire and wax poetry about before tucking it into his notebook. but jaskier isn't there, and geralt feels a little pang. he glares at the leaf the entire time he's setting up camp.

the camp fire has burned down to the embers by the time geralt is ready to lay out his bed roll, but he can still see the leaf at the corner of his vision. he sighs and gets up, knowing that it will continue to bother him unless he does something about it. he picks up the leaf, brushes off the dirt far more lightly than he would ever care to admit, and goes to tuck it in to his saddle bag in the roll of parchment he keeps on the off chance he has to write a letter.

roach snorts at him. “shut up,” he mutters back. “its just a leaf.” roach nuzzles his arm. “no, i don't miss him. im just...bringing him a souvenir. we had to part early this year.” another snort. “yes, i know you know. but he didn't get to see the leaves this year. i don't want him to be disappointed.” roach headbuts him as if to say, you dumb witcher. geralt ignores this, but gives her some nice pats before retiring to his bedroll.

in the next town geralt buys a random book. he doesnt know what it is, he bought the cheapest one he could find. but he's not going to read it, he just needs something to keep jaskiers leaf in so it doesnt crumble to bits before the spring. he swears roach laughs at him for that.

throughout his trip up to kaer morhen, geralt finds himself progressively walking slower, taking time to admire the leaves as the bard had once done.

he picks up the second leaf a week later after a battle with some drowners. he’s heading back into the town, having come across his first contract in weeks, holding the head and covered in river muck and guts when he sees a perfectly yellow leaf on the ground in front of him. he picks it up gingerly, trying his very best not to get guts on it (and he nearly succeeds). if the alderman thinks its weird, a witcher coming back with a drowner head in one hand and a yellow maple leaf in the other, he doesnt say anything. roach does tho, whinnying the second she sees it in geralts hand. he ignores her, and presses the maple leaf into the book a few pages after the brilliant red one.

after that he adds to the collection more frequently. an reddish oak leaf he finds on the ground outside of a tavern, a brilliant orange leaf he finds at his campsite, a yellowish orange leaf the size of his face that he finds along the road and so on. roach makes fun of him every time he reaches for the book, but geralt ignores her. they're merely souvenirs for jaskier, nothing more.

collecting leaves slows him down considerably, but he cant bring himself to care. he's even disappointed when the last of the leaves disappear and the first snow sets in.

but that doesnt stop him from collecting things to add to his book. he gathers different small pine branches, holly leaves and other things that he knows jasper has never seen before because they grow too far north. he becomes so caught up in his hunt for interesting plants that the snow is already falling thickly by the time he reaches kaer morhe, despite him leaving for the keep so early. eskel and lambert chide him for being late, but he ignores them, happy that he managed to fill most of the book with leaves for jaskier.

that whole winter the book remains in the bottom of geralts pack, wrapped carefully in his spare shirt. he thinks about it often, but doesnt dare bring it out for fear that one of his brothers will catch him and make fun of him for being a sap. he's not a sap, he just found some leaves for his friend.

winter drags on far too long in geralts opinion and leaves as soon as the passes are clear, antsy to get back to his friend and give him the book. but on his way down he discovers yet another beautiful thing that jaskier would love: wildflowers. roach is slightly more appreciative of this because wildflowers are things that she is allowed to eat. geralt often feeds her them to see if she approves. if she spits it out or refuses to eat it, then it doesnt make it into the book.

in the space he has left in the book he fills it with wildflowers, sometimes going out of his way to collect them. there are buttercups, dandelions, little blue ones the color of jaskiers eyes, poppies, apple blossoms, daffodils, and even a few rose petals that he buys from a stall in a market. the book is brimming with nature now. he has to be careful not to lose any of his treasures.

finally, he arrives at his and jaskiers meeting spot. he stables roach who gives him a headbut of encouragement and he grabs the book carefully wrapped in his shirt before he makes his way to the tavern, suddenly very nervous.

jaskiers voice is already wafting out of the tavern as he draws closer, having beat geralt to the meeting spot for once, and geralt hesitantly steps inside, knowing jaskiers eyes will be on him the second he goes in. he’s overcome with thoughts, what if jaskier hates it? what if he thinks it's dumb? what if he laughs at him?

he enters anyway, because he's a witcher for fucks sake and he can handle his friends scrutiny. immediately he sees jaskier, sitting in the corner, working a crowd. as always, jaskiers eyes snap to him the second he steps foot in the tavern and he winks. geralt gives him the smallest nod and heads to his table in the corner after ordering an ale. he tucks the book out of sight on the bench next to him.

minutes later jaskier barrels over, eyes bright with the life of the crowd he had been entertaining.

“geralt!” he exclaims. “finally. i thought you stood me up, you big oaf. i never make it here before you do, i thought you may have been eaten! although im not sure by what exactly, i don't know what species has a taste for witches, dragons maybe? well never mind, youre here now and you better have a good excuse for being so late, even im starting to get bored of this town and you know how i love towns...”

geralt smiles into his ale, he missed this, but he'd never admit it. his eyes flick over to the book sitting on the seat beside him, unsure whether or not he should give it to him.

jaskier, being the observant fucker he is, notices. “geralt what do you have on the seat there? is it a monster head? you know what happened last time you tried to hide a monster head in a tavern, i thought the town would chase us out with pitchforks they were so angry! surely you wouldn't-”

“here.” geralt mutters, cutting him off, unwilling to listen to that horrible story.

jaskier stares at the lump of black fabric on the table. “geralt, why are you giving me your shirt? its not really my style, i’m not one for black really, makes my skin look too pale.”

“open it.” he says into his ale.

jaskier does, and stares at the book dumbfounded. “a history book? geralt you know that i am a master of the seven liberal arts, im a professor at oxenfurt! i have all these boring books in the library, i didn't need you to get me one, although it is very thoughtful of you to- oh”

geralt, tired of hearing jaskiers babbling, flips open the book, revealing the bits of nature he had spent their time apart collecting. jasper is silent, which geralt takes as a bad sign. maybe roach was right, maybe he didn't like it, maybe he'd wasted his time for nothing.

“cause you....you didn't get to see...the leaves this year,” he mutters, looking into the tavern, unable to see the inevitable disappointment on jaskiers face.

“oh, geralt,” jaskier whispers. “you collected all of these for me?”

geralt doesnt say anything, but his silence is enough.

“this is why you were late. you were collecting these, for me.”

“its okay if you don't..like them” geralt bites out.

“oh no no no no, geralt, they're wonderful.”

geralt looks at jaskier and sees him touching the pine branch he took form the trees outside kaer morhen, tears brimming in his eyes. “you don't hate it?”

“no, love.” jaskier smiles softly. “i adore it. and i adore you. and id love it if you tell me about all of them, please.”

for the first time in years geralt feels something like a smile tugging at his lips and he picks up the pine branch from jaskiers hand, telling him how it came from the tree outside his window, the one that he looked at everyday as a kid growing up. the same tree that lambert once dared him to climb and he nearly did before being spotted by vesemir and scolded at. jasper laughs and sniffs the pine carefully before placing the branch back in the book.

they pour over the book for hours at their table in the tavern. geralt cant remember the last time he's talked this much, much less about himself of all things, but jaskier is more than happy to listen.

if you want to be tagged in future works of mine shoot me an ask !!

#witcher #julian alfred pankratz #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #geraskier #greaskier fic #witcher fic #idk where this cam from but i vibe #if anyone wants to be tagged in my future rambings #please let me know #i hope you enjoyed this hc fic type thing #geralt is a huge softie and i love him #saph scribbles

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Skipping Stones - KEVIN

This was the second full scenario I ever finished for The Boyz and I think it was pretty nice to start with some soft Kevin :D THANK YOU KAI FOR LETTING ME YELL TO YOU ABOUT THIS ONE I HOPE IT LIVES UP TO YOUR EXPECTATIONS.

Anyway! Happy (slightly early but only by a couple hours??) birthday to one of the best boys in the world, the one and only wonderful beautiful lovely Kevin Moon! I hope you all enjoy this <3 please reblog if you did!

Pairing: Kevin x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, teacher!au

Triggers: cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 7.8k

Falling in love with you, Kevin thinks, is a bit like skipping stones.

Alternatively:

Five times Kevin felt himself falling deeper in love with you, and the one time he knew he was gone.

TBZ Masterlist | Touching Stars | Breathe, and Live

prelude.

Kevin knows he exists to be clowned. His sister says it’s something about his face – there’s something undeniably meme-y about his reactions, apparently, that makes him very clownable. His students tell him it’s in his demeanor – he comes off as pretty chill, according to them, which makes him easy to tease because they know he’ll react in some hilarious way, but it won’t affect him too deeply.

(Changmin just says he’s stupid, which makes him clownable to the highest degree, but Kevin refuses to take information from the teacher who still scares him every other week with whichever horror movie mask has recently caught his fancy.)

So Kevin knows he’s just a clownable human being, and he’s resigned himself to that fate for the rest of his life. But around you? His calm, collected, hilarious, wonderful partner? He expected a little less clownery and a little more loving.

“Oh, come on,” you laugh, trying to get Kevin to turn around. Honestly, he’s already feeling the effects of withdrawal from not seeing your smile for more than a few minutes, but he refuses to budge, lips curved downwards in a semi-permanent pout. He knows he won’t be able to keep this up for long (he’ll miss looking at your face too much, and really, he can’t be mad at you about anything), but he can make a scene. “Kevin!”

“You’re so mean,” he whines, still resisting your efforts to make him look at you. “I just poured out a very embarrassing part of my childhood to you and instead of comforting me, you laugh?” His pout deepens. “I don’t know why we’re dating.”

Your hands leave the back of his shoulders. For a second, Kevin thinks you’ve given up and he’s about to start whining about that too, but then you appear in front of him, fingers clasped placatingly. “All right, all right, Kevin.” Still grinning, you grab his hands. “I won’t tease anymore. But seriously, how could you expect me not to laugh my ass off when you told me you learned to skip stones for the –” you make jazz hands, presumably to emphasize your point – “aesthetic?”

Kevin sticks his lip out childishly. “I didn’t think it was that funny,” he mumbles.

“It’s not, not really.” You squeeze his hands. “But it’s a move that’s got Kevin Moon stamped all over it.” As if to accentuate your point, you snort. “Of course you’d learn to skip stones for the aesthetic.”

“Y/N,” he whines.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” Your teasing grin melts into an eager smile. “Hey, teach me?”

“Right now?”

“Why not?”

It feels like Kevin’s physically crumbling to pieces with the way your hopeful voice and sparkling eyes just attack him from all angles. Grudgingly, the deep pout on his lips stretches into a smile, the starstruck smile that all of his friends like to tease him for. “Fine, let’s go.”

He spends the rest of the afternoon stepping around small children and younger couples, trying to find suitable rocks for skipping and teaching you the right angles, the right stance, the right way to hold the stone in your hand before sending it into the water. You learn fast, something he envies – where it took him at least a couple of weeks to perfect the art, you (mostly) pick it up in a matter of hours – but he can’t feel too jealous or too bad when you look up at him after your stone skips once on the water. “Kevin, I did it!” You shake him slightly. “Did you see that?”

The softest smile spreads across Kevin’s face as he kisses your forehead softly “Yeah, I did.”

When he pulls away, you give him the brightest grin before scrambling away to find more stones to skip. Kevin just watches, taking in the way your figure looks against the setting sun, bright gold and pale pink light streaming over your body, almost making you glow.

This is why he fell in love with you, he thinks. Your character, your tenacity, the way you throw yourself into every task you’ve been assigned so that you can complete it as best as you can. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to treat a new cancer case at the hospital or trying to skip a stupid rock across the water. You always give it your all.

Idly, Kevin picks up a stone of his own. With a practiced flick of his wrist, it goes sailing onto the lake, skipping three, four, five times before sinking beneath the surface.

Falling in love with you is a bit like skipping stones, he thinks, watching the stone disappear from sight. Someone had to force him into that first blind date with you, much like making the first toss of the stone into the water, but every skip after that was quick, effortless, the way he felt himself falling for you, step by stumbling step, until his heart finally gave in and sank below the waves of your warmth.

It’s hard to imagine a time when he wasn’t in love with you, even though such a time did at one point exist. But the way you make him feel with the smallest things you do – the way you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, the way you rest your chin on your hand in thought – it feels like he’s known you for an eternity and loved you even longer, loved you before time existed.

Your stone skips twice across the water and you shout with joy, racing up to Kevin to celebrate. He catches you when you leap at him, arms wrapping around your waist automatically, smiling into your shining face. Yes, he thinks, he’s in love.

He’s so in love with you.

. . . . .

Kevin, by all definitions of the word, is panicking.

He’s been dreading this blind date for almost a month now, circling the day on his calendar and marking it D-Day, begging Jacob and Changmin to come along and hide in case he needs to be bailed out, relentlessly praying that he’ll be able to leave the stupid date in one piece.

(Look, as much as he appreciates Mrs. Park’s kindness and her brownies, she can be… a little overbearing. To say the least.)

Just a few hours ago, he was putting on his yellow sweater and bemoaning the existence of his pushy coworker. Just a few hours ago, he was lamenting his fate to his two friends (friends is a term he will use loosely for today – all they did was laugh at him). Just a few hours ago, he was cursing the existence of Mrs. Park and her brownies for getting him locked into this date with her sister’s kid. Wait, was it her sister? Or her brother?

(“Yes, her sister,” Changmin says, rolling his eyes. “Pay more attention, won’t you, Kev?”

Kevin groans. “Why couldn’t either of you be chosen by Mrs. Park, huh? Why me?”

“Because I have a partner and Jacob is good at disappearing.” Changmin grins that evil, evil grin he always has on just before he’s about to execute a prank on someone (usually Kevin).

“More like the two of you are good at leaving me to fend for myself against Mrs. Park, even though you know I can’t say no to shit,” Kevin grumbles.

“Give up her brownies,” Jacob suggests.

Kevin gasps. “No way in hell.”)

But now, he’s actually sitting across from you in a café not too far from his apartment, holding a cup of coffee between his (visibly shaking) hands. And he can’t even think of why he was dreading this date so much because you’re just… really, really perfect.

Why are you so sweet? he’s screaming inside. Why are you so funny? Why are you literally the perfect mix of snark and kindness and just – everything?

“So my aunt told me you work with her,” you say, seemingly oblivious to Kevin’s jitters. The smile on your face is really sending electricity racing through his heart. “I know the children must be fun, but I know she can be a bit… overbearing.” There’s a hint of apology in your eyes, like you know your aunt must have pressured him into this and you’re sorry that he had to come on a date with you.

Kevin’s stomach flip-flops. Okay, so Mrs. Park maybe did severely pressure and sweetly blackmail Kevin into a blind date. But Kevin also doesn’t want you to feel bad for it because it’s not your fault at all, so as usual, when he finds himself in a tight spot, his mouth decides it’s time to run.

“No, your aunt is really nice,” he starts. “I really mean it – she’s always very kind to the kids and to the rest of us teachers. I’m still kind of new compared to the rest of them – I’ve only been at the school for a few years now – but she helped me feel welcome that first year when I was still figuring things out. And she also likes Beyonce! You know, the greatest female artist there is? She let me play my entire playlist of Beyonce songs for her last year and she liked every single one of them!”

Kevin’s babbling now. Rambling. Whatever he wants to call it. His brain is screaming for him to stop talking but his mouth won’t stop running because this is what he does when he’s nervous. He talks. Endlessly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the table where Changmin and Jacob are situated in case they need to rescue him from mental or physical harm. The top of Changmin’s head is barely visible behind a huge menu so Kevin can barely see his friend, but somewhere in his babbling haze, he notices a phone camera poking out from behind the menu.

If he wasn’t blushing before, he definitely is now.

Finally, his mouth listens to his brain and he trails off on his last thought on why Beyonce is the best artist in the entire world. There’s a second of silence.

“Sorry,” Kevin finally squeaks. “I… tend to ramble when I get nervous. Or when I talk about Beyonce.”

Your smile flashes even wider. Kevin is torn between wanting to melt into the ground out of embarrassment and staying upright to keep seeing that grin on your face.

“Don’t be sorry,” you laugh, fiddling with your cup of coffee. “I thought it was cute.”

Kevin’s face burns so much that he misses what you say next. “Sorry?”

You grin. “I’m always interested in hearing about a new artist to add to my playlist.”

Kevin lets out a theatrical gasp. “You don’t have Beyonce in your music library?”

A sheepish look spreads across your face. “… No?”

“Oh my God.” Kevin pulls out his phone. “Okay, I’m about to educate you on the artist of our time.”

The afternoon, then, passes in a flash. Changmin and Jacob eventually just up and exit the café (presumably with enough blackmail to last the rest of Kevin’s life – he knows he was acting like a complete fool, but luckily, you didn’t seem to care), leaving him alone with you. Under any other circumstances, he probably would’ve started crying, but you’re so sweet and so interesting that Kevin thinks he could stay and talk to you in this café forever.

He learns you’re an oncologist at a nearby children’s hospital, that even though the work is hard and tiring and sometimes overwhelmingly depressing, the strength of the children and the families you work with inspire you to keep going every day. He learns that you don’t have too much of a sweet tooth (though you won’t say no to ice cream or cheesecake, both of which he notes in his head), he learns that you love coffee, and he learns that you like to take walks in the park whenever you have a little bit of free time.

He also learns that you’re snarky, intelligent, driven, hardworking. He learns that you’re something far beyond the beauty of your face – that underneath your skin, there’s a heart that’s warmer than the sun.

Kevin understands that this is only the first date and that he maybe shouldn’t be making judgments so quickly. But he’s been told that he’s a relatively good judge of character, and the genuine look in your eyes when you talks speaks volumes about the person deep inside.

Even though you live further away, Kevin takes the bus with you to your home, citing that it’s only polite to walk one’s date to the door (in reality, he just wants to spend a little more time with you). As the bus rattles along the road, Kevin lets you listen to the songs on his phone, delighting in the way your head bobs to the beat of his favorite tracks.

Kevin’s a bit sad when you reach your apartment, sad that your time together is over for the day. He lingers outside the building for a moment, trying to work up the courage to ask about a second date.

Suddenly, you lean forward. Kevin jerks back – he briefly wonders if you’re trying to kiss him – but you just pat a spot on his sweater, frowning slightly at your fingers. “Is that… paint?”

Oh my God.

Kevin tugs the material of his sweater forward so he can see the spot you’re pointing at. Sure enough, there’s a small patch of red paint on the yellow fuzz. He groans. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Well, that’s what people like us get for working with children.” You roll your eyes comically, and Kevin bursts into laughter that’s definitely too loud for the small joke you made. Then silence falls again.

You break it. “Listen, Kevin.”

He perks up. “Hmm?”

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this date because my aunt has been trying to set me up with people my age for several years now.” For the first time today, you look shy. “She was probably really pushy with you too, so I’m sorry about that. But I really enjoyed this afternoon.” You meet Kevin’s eyes. “If you’d like, I’d love to go on a second date.”

Kevin’s heart explodes. It really does. Sheer excitement courses through his veins, and he has to stop himself from smiling widely enough to mimic a god damn clown. “I’d love that,” he says trying to hide how eager he really is. “Um, I’ll say that I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this either, mostly because my experience with blind dates has had… limited success. But I’m really glad I met you. You’re a wonderful person.”

Your smile grows wider at Kevin’s admission. “Thank you, Kevin. You’re wonderful too.”

“Do you kiss on the first date?” he blurts out because his brain has no filter. Then he backtracks. “Um, it’s totally okay if you don’t, I was just asking, please don’t think I’m a creep –”

You briefly press your lips to his. Kevin shuts up.

When you break away, Kevin honestly thinks you’re glowing. “Does that answer your question?” you ask, bravely trying to hide something – is that embarrassment? Whatever it is, he thinks it’s adorable.

Kevin blushes. “Yes.”

People probably think he’s insane with the way he’s smiling on the bus ride back to his apartment. He can’t help it, though – the tingling touch of your lips, gentle against his, plays over and over in his mind, along with memories of your lovely voice and your lovely smile and your lovely, lovely disposition. Some people are giving him weird looks, and Jacob and Changmin are sure to tease him to no end when he comes in to work tomorrow.

But who cares? Kevin’s got a second date in the works with one of the most wonderful people he’s ever met.

In his mind, he’s on top of the world.

. . . . .

ii.

Usually, when Kevin gets lucky and scores a second date or a third, he suggests taking his date somewhere with children to gauge how they feel about small toddlers tearing up the place. Children are a huge part of Kevin’s life – he teaches elementary school and knows he wants kids when he gets a bit older – so one of the silent standards he’s set for potential significant others is that they have to like and be good with children.

You work at a children’s hospital, Kevin knows, so you must at least be good with kids, even if you might not like them (hey, it’s possible – Kevin has known many people who are good at things they hate). That fulfills half of the standard. He just needs to gauge the other half.

There aren’t many events at the school coming up, though – no plays, no art exhibitions, nothing he can really invite you to. He’s racking his brains for a third date somehow involving children when you unexpectedly call him about an event at the hospital.

“I know it’s last minute,” you apologize profusely, “but the guy who was supposed to come today for the kids’ music hour called in sick. I don’t want to cancel the event because they always look forward to it and I know you play the piano – would it be possible for you to fill in?”

It is possible, it turns out. He may not be able to pack his Yamaha upright into the back of your car, but he does have an electronic keyboard that fits into your trunk. The whole way there, you’re apologizing, but between reassurances that it’s totally fine, Kevin can’t help but anticipate how you’ll act around the children once the two of you arrive.

Setting up takes more time than he’d like (the extension cord that comes with his keyboard is too short, so you disappear on a twenty-minute manhunt for a longer one while Kevin just stands there awkwardly), which makes him feel slightly like a burden on the rest of your coworkers. They’re so polite, though, so genuine and kind, that Kevin eventually starts to feel more at ease.

(He’s still endlessly grateful when you return, extension cord clasped victoriously in one hand.)

Then the kids start trickling in, and Kevin’s heart immediately both breaks and melts. Some are in wheelchairs, others have lost their hair, but they’re all smiling with so much excitement, chattering to their parents and the staff around them as they settle on beanbags and pillows on the floor. Several look at him curiously and he smiles at them, prompting several questions about who he is, why there’s a keyboard and not a guitar, and why the normal guy isn’t here.

“The usual guy got sick and couldn’t come,” Kevin says to one sweet girl with chubby cheeks and shining eyes. “I’m just here to replace him for a day.”

“Do you play the piano?” she asks, shyly pointing at the keyboard, which more than a few curious souls are standing around.

Kevin smiles. “Yes, I do.” He would say more, maybe offer to show her the instrument a little, but then you’re walking over, and her eyes brighten. “Dr. L/N!” she cheers.

With a loud laugh, you swoop her up carefully, cradling the girl against your shoulder. “How are you, Daeun?” you ask, lips spread in a smile that Kevin knows can’t be faked.

The girl – Daeun – grins. “I’ve been good!” she announces proudly. “Are we going to start soon?”

You laugh again, settling her back down on the floor. Kevin thinks his heart melts with the way your eyes sparkle. “Yes, we are,” you say. “I see you’ve already met Kevin?”

“Your name is Kevin?” Daeun looks at him curiously. “Your name is strange.”

Kevin has to force himself not to coo. “I was born in Canada,” he says. “My Korean name is Hyungseo.”

Daeun’s nose scrunches. “I like Kevin more,” she decides with finality.

Kevin feels brave enough to pat her on the head. “Then you can call me Kevin.”

“All right, Daeun. Go find your mom, okay? Kevin and I are going to finish setting up, and then we’ll get started.” With a soft kiss on the forehead (Kevin makes a sound he really hopes you don’t hear – the scene is just too adorable), you send the small girl off, turning back to Kevin. “Shall we get started?” you ask, grinning widely.

It may only be the third date, but he’s falling in love, Kevin thinks, falling in love with your shining face and sparkling eyes, with the way you shower love upon the children you’ve placed under your care. Right now, you’re everything he’s ever wanted in a future partner – beautiful in character, kind, gentle, fiercely loving.

His heart pounds a little faster.

Belatedly, Kevin realizes you’re waiting for a response and nods quickly. “Yeah,” he breathes, eyes glancing over the sea of children waiting (somewhat) patiently. A smile to rival yours spreads across his face. “Let’s get started.”

. . . . .

iii.

Kevin loves the last Friday of every month, he really does. It’s been tradition for several years now to go out with Changmin and Jacob on what he calls nights for “the boyz” to eat cheap food and get drunk. And no matter how much the others complain about the stupid name (Kevin will admit it sounds stupid now, but that doesn’t mean he’ll change it), he knows they enjoy the nights all the same.

Sometimes, though, Kevin just wishes he had more of a filter on his mouth. If not that, then maybe his brain could stop remembering every single dumb thing he said or did on drunk nights out. It would make his life a lot easier if he could just forget being stupid.

But no, God decided to be mean when making Kevin Moon. So Kevin, as a result, is an emotional drunk. He cries a lot when he hears about sad or adorable things, he says a lot of stupid stuff to (badly) express his overwhelming feelings, and worst of all, he remembers all of it when he wakes up hungover the next morning.

(None of this stops him from getting drunk anyway. Kevin Moon doesn’t learn lessons when it comes to alcohol. When he falls on his face (sometimes literally), he just gets up again, even if it’s with a bloody nose.)

Luckily, the night doesn’t end in chaos. Even though Jacob, who’s half of Kevin’s impulse control, leaves after an hour (he’s meeting with his family the next day, so Kevin is obligated call him a noob – it’s like a law of physics or something), Changmin doesn’t seem to be in the mood to do weird things without Jacob there to stop him, so the night passes relatively smoothly without Kevin throwing, like, a tantrum or anything.

He gets close, though. Because damn, if Changmin isn’t so fucking adorable when talking about his partner. Buried in his purple hoodie, black hair peeking softly over the top, it’s impossible for Kevin not to tear up when Changmin begins gushing over his beautiful, amazing, wonderful significant other whom he just compared to stardust.

Stardust.

Kevin wants to scream, that’s so romantic.

When you come to pick him and Changmin up, Kevin can’t resist relaying all of this to you as soon as he gets in the car. Vaguely, he thinks he should be worried about Changmin hearing it and hitting him, but the boy is mostly asleep in the back, eyes only fluttering slightly when you go over a bump or something. After Changmin gets dropped off at his apartment, Kevin turns the gushing on full force.

“Y/N, the love of my life, he called her stardust,” he’s still babbling even as you strongarm him up to his own apartment. “He’s so adorable. Changmin is so adorable. Oh my God.”

He thinks you snort. Probably. It would be a normal response. “Didn’t you call him the spawn of Satan just a few days ago?”

Definitely a snort, Kevin thinks, but he’s too invested in Changmin’s loveliness to whine about you making fun of him. “Y/N,” he pouts instead, “listen to meeeeee.”

“I’m listening, I’m listening.” You grunt, catching him just as he misses the next step and almost falls forward. “Hey, be careful.”

“’M trying.” Kevin manfully does his best to stop the world from tilting on its side. “But Changminnie.”

“Yes, yes, Changminnie.” Even drunk, Kevin can make out the playful exasperation in your voice. “Keep going.”

“Thank you, love of my life.” Kevin tries to give you a kiss but his lips hit air instead of your cheek. “Heck.”

You burst into loud laughter. “Kevin Moon, you never told me you were this adorable when drunk.”

“Changminnie,” he says more insistently.

“Okay, yes, I’m listening.” You kiss his cheek instead, and Kevin almost topples over right then and there. “Hey, you can’t fall over whenever I kiss you. Tell me about Changmin.”

Kevin starts flailing his arms around as best he can. “He’s so cute!” he half-yells. “He told me his partner was like stardust because she’s so perfect and warm, but she’s also like stardust because… because…”

His lip juts out.

“Oh, no, don’t cry, Kev.” You stop moving, then Kevin registers you bundling him into a hug, patting his head. “I know you’re a sad emotional drunk, but don’t cry.”

“Not crying,” Kevin protests, visibly crying.

“Mhm.” You pat his head one last time before letting go. “Hey, give me a second, I’m going to unlock your door.”

There’s some fumbling and a quiet snick, then Kevin obediently follows you through the door of his apartment. Once inside, you press a thumb to the side of his face, brushing a tear away. “Tell me what Changmin said to make you sad.”

“Changminnie said he’s afraid she’ll… she’ll… slip away between his fingers. Like stardust.” Kevin feels like he’s going to start sobbing any moment now. “He’s afraid she’s going to leave him eventually because she’s too perfect and he’s not good enough.”

“Oh my God.” You sit down on the couch. Kevin follows suit, albeit a lot more ungracefully as he collapses onto a cushion in a tangle of limbs. “Oh my God, that’s so sad and cute at the same time.”

“I said he should call her his star,” Kevin mumbles, turning slightly so he can burrow into your side. “Because stardust. Texted them about it. Both of them.”

Your laugh sounds like music even to the drunken haze of his brain. “Wonder what they’ll think when they see a drunken keysmash on their phones first thing tomorrow morning.”

The two of you sit in silence for a bit. Kevin feels his eyes beginning to get droopy, and he almost falls asleep before a thought strikes him with lightning force.

“I need to give you a nickname!” he almost yells, sitting bolt upright. The movement makes the room spin, but he doesn’t care. This is urgent. “Changmin’s going to call her his star, but I haven’t given you a nickname yet!”

“Kev, Kev.” You hold him by the shoulders, and he relaxes a little. “You can come up with a nickname for me in the morning. Right now, I think you need to sleep.”

“No,�� he whines, shifting in your grip. “This is important. You need a nickname.” He sinks into deep, drunken thoughts, the kinds of thoughts he has when he ignores everything around him in favor of getting philosophical after having drunk too much alcohol.

Then it hits him.

“Oh my God,” he gasps. “Oh my God.” It’s his turn to grab you by the shoulders, now. “Oh my God. You’re the sun. Because I’m the moon. Get it? Kevin Moon?”

Through his drunken haze, Kevin thinks he sees you smile, maybe. It looks like a smile.

Your eyes are sparkling. You look happy.

Probably a smile.

“I’m a genius,” he whispers. A genius for coming up with the nickname and for making you happy.

“Sure, Kevin.” You grunt a little as he shifts his weight. “Come on, get up. We’ll see if you’re still a genius tomorrow if you wake up and remember all of this.”

Kevin doesn’t register much for the rest of the night, just remembers falling into his bed and forcing you to lie down next to him. The next morning, he wakes up with a throbbing headache and the vague, ever-present worry that he said something stupid last night.

You’re not in the bed with him anymore. Kevin blinks once, twice, before trying to sit up so to figure out where you went. Then he remembers you don’t live here. You probably went home.

Which is why he nearly goes into cardiac arrest when you appear in his doorway, holding a mug of coffee and a glass of water.

For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other. Kevin’s not sure what thoughts are running through your head, but he knows he’s trying to piece together what happened last night, and whether or not he should be hiding under the covers out of embarrassment.

Then it hits him.

Sun.

Moon.

Genius.

Oh, God.

Kevin wants to die.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says, using your new nickname in the desperate hope that it’ll distract you from remembering the rest of what he said last night.

A catlike smirk curls your lips as you walk over, pressing the glass of water into his hands. A feeling of dread fills Kevin’s heart as he takes it.

“Morning, genius,” you say with enough evil delight to power Changmin for a year.

Kevin groans. “I was drunk.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Your teasing smile melts into something gentler as you place your mug on the bedside table, turning to bring the glass of water in his hands to his lips. “Coffee’s mine, don’t touch it or I’ll break a bone. Drink the water. I made some breakfast, so come into the kitchen whenever you feel up to it. After you’ve brushed your teeth.”

Warmth courses through Kevin’s body, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol from last night and everything to do with how you’re here in body and mind, sweetly helping him recover from a stupid hangover even when it’s definitely not your problem to take care of and you probably have better things to do. His heart thumps, loud enough that he thinks you could probably hear it.

In this moment, Kevin doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful for anything than you coming into his life.

“Got it.” He awkwardly tries to salute, but he does it with the hand holding the glass and the water nearly spills onto the bed. As his cheeks flush, you break into snorting giggles.

Even though it’s at his expense, Kevin thinks he would do anything, anything in the world, to keep that wonderful smile on your face and that musical laughter in the air.

. . . . .

iv.

Only when you move in together does Kevin realize just how taxing your job is. He had an idea from when you sometimes had to cancel or move around dates, but when you did meet up, you were usually energetic and cheerful. Of course, there were the token dates where you just came over to Kevin’s apartment or he came over to yours and you just flopped around for a few hours. Outside, though, you always showed a bright face.

But that was because dates were mostly on your days off or when your hours were short, and as a result, you felt good enough, energized enough to show Kevin your brilliant smile. When you first moved in together, Kevin felt a bit surprised – well, maybe not surprised, but saddened – that you didn’t have the energy to smile as brightly as he saw before.

It’s fine by Kevin, though. You smile often enough, and if your teeth don’t show as much as they used to, there’s something beautiful, something calming and sweet in the slower curve of your lips, the gentle, lethargic way you lean up for a kiss. After all, Kevin has enough energy to compensate for when you might lack some of yours.

(It helps that he can cook, he thinks. Even when the kids at school sometimes wear him out, the brief sparkle in your eye that spreads across your lips when you walk through the door to see him stirring something on the stove is more than enough to make up for it.)

You’re cute, too, when you’re tired. Though Kevin loves it when you’re energetic and ready for whatever the day has decided to throw in your path, there’s something so peaceful, so pleasant about feeling you lying lethargically against his side on the couch, scrolling through your phone or reading a book or just resting, doing nothing but breathing softly. Kevin cherishes those small moments, the soft atmosphere where he kisses your hair and you smile, reach up, and press a kiss of your own to his cheek.

Tonight is one of those nights, a night of soft, comforting silence, words few and far between. It’s been a bit warm lately, so Kevin’s elected to wear one of the tank tops he keeps for the warmer months instead of his usual sweater.

You sit next to him on the couch, back pressed to his side as you send off emails on your phone. Kevin’s working too, inputting grades on his laptop. He hums a little under his breath to take his mind off of the monotony of his task.

At some point, you finish, putting down your phone with a sigh and slumping into his ribs. Kevin starts at the sudden movement. “Sunshine,” he whines, even though he could really care less.

“Moon boy,” you parrot in the same tone of voice.

Kevin’s attention turns back to his laptop, so he barely registers you shifting on the couch to a new position. He does notice it, though, when your fingers start trailing along his skin, exposed by the lack of sleeves on his tank top, because your touch tickles.

You completely ignore his resulting twitch of surprise, only keep tracing the skin of his rib cage. Kevin looks down, confused as to what’s caught your attention.

Oh. His tattoos.

“Sunshine?” he asks softly, watching your fingers shift along his skin.

“Mm,” you hum, eyes still fixated on the ink decorating his side.

“Sleepy?”

Slowly, you shake your head, fingers paused on the image of Mickey Mouse. “Not yet.”

He goes back to inputting grades, all the while still aware of your fingers tracing the lines, the curls, the swirls of black ink along his side. When he finishes, he looks over before closing his laptop to see your eyes still focused on his skin.

Something in his heart explodes, spreading a tingly, comforting warmth throughout his body. It’s a feeling he’s come to associate with your presence, a feeling of absolute security, absolute trust, absolute warmth that comes with falling in love with you.

You look up, noticing his lack of movement. “Finished, moonbeams?”

“First moon boy, now moonbeams?” Kevin teases you lightly, picking up the hand you were using to trace his skin and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. Just like every other time he’s ever done it, a wide smile spreads across your face and a shyness sparkles in your eyes, as though you still can’t believe the bliss of the moment.

(At least, that’s what Kevin feels every time you do something to remind him that he’s yours.)

Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Can’t call you moonshine, that’s an alcohol.” You shrug as best as you can in your stretched-out position. “Moonbeams, moon boy… whatever feels right.”

Kevin puts his laptop on the coffee table. As he leans back into the couch, you curl up into him, one hand still lingering against the Mickey Mouse tattoo on his side. “Tell me about these?” you ask, pressing your fingers a bit more firmly against the ink.

His tattoos are personal, serving as reminders of the past and inspiration to keep moving. Rarely does he share their meanings with anyone (not that people usually ask, because the tattoos are mostly covered by his clothes), and only with those who mean the world to him.

Kevin thinks you qualify as one of them.

Touching your shoulders, he turns you around slightly, just enough to press a short, sweet kiss to the top of your head. “Of course, sunshine.” He smiles, gazing into your eyes, feeling the warmth of your love travel through his limbs. “Which one first?”

. . . . .

Kevin Moon, for the majority of his life, has hovered in between being classified as a morning person or a night owl. Yes, he gets up at six in the morning for a cup of coffee, but he also stays up past midnight doing… stuff. Grading, writing reports, watching cat videos, wasting time.

(When Changmin judges his lifestyle, Kevin just reminds him that he fell in love with his roommate’s hookup and is on a dance team with the parent of one of his students.)

Honestly, if Kevin didn’t remind himself every so often that he’s currently a full adult, his lifestyle would make him think he was still in college. He certainly still acts like it when he isn’t working. Procrastinating? Check. Crying over reports he needs to submit at three a.m.? Check. Flopping around on the floor when life is going badly? Check.

And most importantly: nonexistent sleep schedule? Check.

You put a stop to that real quick when you move in, both directly and indirectly. Directly, you make an appointment for him at a sleep clinic after figuring out his shitty sleep patterns, and Kevin finds out he probably has mild insomnia. The aftermath is horrible – you put him on a strict sleep schedule and all but ban caffeine from his diet (goodbye, morning coffee) – but it helps, after a couple of weeks. He sleeps better. Perks of having a partner who works in medicine.

Indirectly, though, you probably make a bigger difference.

See, the way Kevin thinks about it, he just never had a lot of reasons to stay in bed very long. Even though he appreciates sleep, really appreciates it on long days, it’s just that he can’t really force it if it doesn’t want to come. He’d also rather be doing something productive (or not productive, depends on the asker’s perspective) than lying awake for hours, anyway.

But now that he’s waking up to a face he loves?

Well, even if you sometimes disappear before he wakes (hospital hours are whack as hell, but sadly, you can’t ignore your job), Kevin will just say your warmth is a powerful incentive to stay huddled under the covers, even if he can’t fall back asleep.

He still wakes up every morning to grey light beginning to peek through the window. No matter how hard he tries to sleep in just a little longer, his body can’t seem to stay unconscious past six in the morning, so both of you have just resigned yourselves to the fact that Kevin will always be an early riser.

Before you walked into his life, he would’ve rolled out of bed almost immediately, stumbled to the bathroom (and maybe knocked his knee against the doorframe, who knows), then started brewing coffee in the kitchen to start the day.

Now?

A drowsy smile begins to make its way across Kevin’s face, soft as the morning light, when his brain catches up to the present and he registers your warmth under the covers. Sleepily, he blinks, taking in the sight of your peaceful face buried halfway in the sheets.

You shouldn’t look this beautiful, Kevin thinks, not with your hair strewn all over the pillow, blankets rumpled around your shoulders, arms outstretched so that one sort of curls over his body while the other is held up to your chest. It’s the morning – no one should look pretty and put-together. That isn’t natural.

(Unless you happy to be Kim Younghoon, but that’s another story.)

Yet you somehow look like a sleeping deity in Kevin’s mind, even with your hair a mess and drool drying on the pillowcase. As the drowsiness clears from his eyes, as the light from the window grows brighter, Kevin can barely even think of moving, of disturbing your peace.

He dislikes your alarm. It’s loud, annoying, and hits him with a jolt when he’s just trying to take these stolen morning moments to admire your beauty. When he complains about it the first time, you tell him to serve as the alarm, to wake you up himself.

Kevin counters that he’s an artist, that he needs peace and quiet to give beauty of such a degree the respect it deserves. You just roll your eyes, telling him that if he isn’t going to wake you up, the alarm’s going to have to take that job. The smile on your face, though, and the brief kiss you press to his lips right after, speaks volumes for the emotions Kevin’s words make you feel.

(He loves flustering you like this, even if you pretend his words don’t make you feel some sort of way.)

So eventually, you wake, eyes fluttering as the alarm brings you back to the conscious plane. Kevin’s heart feels like it’s bursting when your eyes fully open, blearily blinking at the world.

“Morning, sunshine,” he whispers, running one hand through your hair.

You lean slightly into the touch, the corners of your lips twitching up. And every day, as he stares into your sleepy eyes, lips curling as you whisper a quiet “Morning, moon boy” in reply, Kevin knows he’s falling, falling in love with every part of you.

. . . . .

+i.

Kevin’s waiting in front of the school when you pull up at the curb. Smiling apologetically, he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek as you step out of the car. “Sorry, sunshine.” He gestures at the two small boys standing beside him, absorbed in their own world. “Their uncle’s running late and Changmin and Jacob have things to do, so I need to wait for Sangyeon to pick them up before we can go.”

“No worries.” You return the kiss, smiling as bright as the sun. Kevin feels a flash of pride for coming up with a nickname that fits you so well. “We have the whole afternoon, don’t we?”

“That, we do.” He grins, squeezing your hand.

“Mr. Moon, who’s that?” a small voice asks closer to the ground. The two of you turn to see Sunwoo and Eric trotting over, curious looks on their faces.

Kevin looks over at you, but you’re already bending down to get to eye level with the two boys. “Oh, hello!” Your grin, if possible, grows wider. “I’m Y/N, Kevin’s significant other. What are your names?”

“I’m Eric,” Eric pipes up. “This is my brother, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo just stares with round eyes. Well, he’s always been the shyer of the two.

“Those are lovely names,” you reply smoothly, giving Sunwoo an encouraging smile. Kevin feels his heart melt completely at how well you interact with the kids. “I’m just going to be waiting with Kevin until your uncle picks you up, is that okay?”

The two kids nod and immediately go back to babbling in their own little world. Kevin notices the fond smile on your face, and his heart melts even more.

“They’re so cute,” you whisper to him.

“I know, right?” Kevin clutches his heart dramatically. “Can you imagine teaching them every day?”

Just as you’re shaking your head in comic disbelief, another car pulls up behind yours. A harried-looking young man quickly exits and Eric and Sunwoo cheer, distracted by the arrival of their uncle.

“Sorry about this,” Sangyeon says, absentmindedly patting Eric’s head as the boy hugs his leg. Sunwoo seems to be attempting to climb onto his uncle’s back. “Traffic wasn’t the kindest when I was getting out of work.” Then he notices you. “Oh, hello. Are you Kevin’s partner?”

“That I am.” You stick out a hand. “I’m Y/N, and I’ve been told you’re Sangyeon?”

Sangyeon nods, smiling. “Nice to meet you. And to see that Kevin’s found someone to deal with his antics.”

Kevin blushes as you laugh. “Hey,” he complains. “No jokes at my expense, please.”

“Sure, moonbeams.” You roll your eyes, then turn back to Sangyeon. “It’s nice to meet you. Your nephews are adorable.”

The smile that Sangyeon gives the two boys clambering around him says it all. “They are, aren’t they?” He checks his watch. “I’m sorry, I have to go now. My sister’s expecting us back soon, and I’m already a bit late.”

Kevin breathes a sigh of relief. No more teasing at his expense from Sangyeon, at least, though there’s no guarantee from you. “Nice seeing you, Sangyeon. And have a good day, kids.”

A small chorus of “You too, Mr. Moon!” sounds, and Kevin expects that to be the end. Sangyeon will herd the boys into the car, Kevin will follow you into yours, and then you’ll go your separate ways. What he doesn’t expect is for Sunwoo to look out at you from behind his uncle’s leg, round eyes cautiously curious, and ask you a question.

“Y/N?”

Immediately, you turn around, teasing smirk melting into a gentle smile for the small boy. “Yes, Sunwoo?”

Sunwoo’s eyes dart between you and Kevin. Then, softly, shyly – “Do you love Mr. Moon?”

Time seems to stop as Kevin’s breath hitches in his throat at the sudden question, but you only look back at him, eyes soft and sparkling in the sunlight.

Your answer glitters in your gaze.

Though you’re supposed to be talking to Sunwoo, your eyes stay fixed on Kevin, strong and unyielding, yet gentle and affectionate, as you answer. Your voice is soft when you reply. “Yes, Sunwoo. I do love him.” The smile on your face grows wider as you turn back to the child. “I love him very much.”

Indescribable warmth floods Kevin’s chest and tears prick his eyes. And as Sangyeon hurries his nephews away, as you turn around to unlock your car, one truth burns with absolute, crystal-clear certainty in his mind.

He isn’t falling in love with you, not anymore. No, he’s far past that stage.

Kevin Moon is completely, wholly, irrevocably in love with you.

“Kevin?” You look at him from the other side of the car. “You coming?”

A wide grin spreads across his face as he meets your sparkling eyes. Love blooms in his chest.

“Coming, sunshine.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for kevin’s whipped ass ksjdkgsdhjk)

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

good trope or bad trope: one of them waking up from surgery or something and being so high on drugs they forget they're together and the other has to explain it

good trope GOOD trope good trope! and this was probably just a question but I couldn't resiiiist

-*-

It's kind of sad to think about the fact that Amy is already used to monitors beeping in a cold hospital room around her squad and, mostly, around her partner. They've been in so many horrible situations, so many little moments where she's had to worry about them, that today she's almost glad she doesn't have to. Jake's surgery had neither been scheduled nor planned, and there had been a whole lot of panic leading up to it when she drove him to the hospital wincing in pain, his arms clutched around his lower stomach, but the doctor's told her they came in early enough for it to be a more routine procedure rather than an emergency. And now his appendix was out, and he would be hurting and healing for a while, but the trepidation about that is nowhere close to the fear she's used to feeling while sitting in these uncomfortable hospital chairs, wondering when the person in the bed next to her would wake up. The last time she'd been in this position, Rosa was hooked up to so many many more machines, and she looked like a bad wax figurine of herself, all pale and stiff.

Jake looks almost fine, no breathing mask or tube down his nostril, just a little beeping heart monitor and some infusion in his arm. The nurse told her he'd be waking up soon when she lead her into the room, and that they could probably go home later that evening already.

(She also told her that he'd been one of the more amusing patients she'd had under anesthesia, which was not a surprise, and that he'd been asking for her every time he groggily opened his eyes for just a few seconds, which was not a surprise either.)

He blinks awake slowly, eyes darting around the room as if to figure out where he is, before they land on her and stay stuck, his forehead creasing in confusion for a second before he grins.

"Heyyyy, it'sa Santiago!" He tries in a croaky voice, and Amy reaches for the cup of ice water the nurse brought in to hand it to him. He's shaky, but he can handle it alone, she notes almost subconsciously - she remembers enough moments where she's had to feed him ice chips instead because he could barely move his arms.

"Hey." She answers with a softer smile as he gulps down almost the whole cup - considering he still hates water, he must really need it. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, just splendid, thanks." He quips before trying to sit up more and wincing, the stitches in his stomach upset. "What the hell did I do this time to end up here?"

"What?"

"I mean, I don't remember a chase or a fight, but it sure feels like I took a knife to the stomach or something?"

They look at each other, equally confused, before Amy shakes her head.

"You dont remember-? It wasn't a work thing, Jake, your appendix almost burst."

"Ah dang. That's not even a cool story for a new scar." He sighs as he leans back a bit against the pillow and carefully palms the space where she knows the skin is going to be light pink and rougher than usual from now on. "Sorry they made you wait around for my stupid ass to recover, or is the squad at least taking turns?"

She stares at him, her mind racing, and it seems to make him nervous. He's still trying to go for that usual grin, but his eyes are darting around, sticking to parts of her without looking directly into her eyes, and she can see he's getting fidgety. Mixing that with what he's saying, and the way he's saying it - his voice is different, somehow, more - guarded, or distant, it's hard to explain, but she only remembers it from a long time ago - makes her suddenly realise.

He's been given some very heavy duty painkillers and narcotics, she hears the nurse's voice in her head, so he might be disoriented or confused for quite a while. It shows differently in lots of people, so I can't tell you what to expect, but he'll be back to normal once it passes through his system.

He doesn't remember, she thinks. He doesn't remember... a lot.

"Jake." She gets his nervous attention back, trying to school her voice into something calm and friendly, instead of the equally nervous and somewhat excited giggle she wants to let out so bad. "I think you're still working through your medication. Can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?"

He leans back again and stares at the ceiling, and it's hard to read the emotions on his face.

"Just... regular work stuff, to be honest. Nothing big."

"Okay, then what is the last big thing you can think of?"

"Uh." He swallows, and Amy refills his water cup, but he doesn't take it. "I, uh, I remember Hoytsman kidnapping me." He laughs a short laugh, obviously trying to make it seem lighter than it ever was, but that's not the only reason Amy feels her heart jump.

His mind is stuck before their relationship. After Sofia left him. He thinks he's woken up after being injured at work, and there's no one there waiting for him except for a work partner who he's been trying so hard to pretend he doesn't like anymore, and for whom he obviously has to play the "I'm okay!" role still.

"Wow. Uh. Okay." She babbles, trying to find a way to be gentle and not confuse him any more. "Then, uh, I guess, well, your medication should pass soon, I think, and you'll remember more, so don't worry-"

"Amy." He's staring at her when she finally looks up, and notes her shorter hair, her far more comfortable outfit than the pantsuits he sees her wear at work, and even while high on drugs it's not that hard for him to put two and two together. "How much am I missing?"

"Quite a lot." She finally admits, but drops her look down into her lap, to her folded hands, and she unconsciously covers her wedding ring before he can see it. "A few years."

"Years?!" He squeals while leaning forward and then groans, because that has definitely upset his wound.

"It's okay, the nurse said it would happen." She quickly tries to calm him. "It's - you'll remember when the anaesthetic passes properly, so it's alright."

"Alright, yeah." He nods and finally settles into the pillow again, as silence envelops them for a few awkward moments, in which Amy's mind races through all the things he's missing right now.

"Okay." He interrupts her sad little mental storybook of their life's drama. "Let's play a game until then, huh? I call it 'Shock&Tell'."

"Jake-"

"It's easy, you'll get the rules. Basically, you tell me stuff I don't know right now and see how shocked you can get me."

"That's not funny-"

"Oh, I think it is. I know how much you like to have me speechless." He grins at her, and she can't resist.

"Title of your sex tape."

"Amy Santiago!" He gasps with a laugh, but there's hesitation in his eyes, and she remembers they weren't exactly at a flirting stage back where he is right now. "For that alone, you have to play a round with me."

"I can't think of anything shocking at the moment." She lies, and he sees right through her.

"Okay, then tell me the worst thing you think happens to me in those years, and the best. From your opinion."

She sighs and stares at her hands again, but she knows he won't let up - he's not gotten any less obnoxious from back then to now.

"Alright. The worst thing. You went to jail." She states, matter of fact, and watches his eyes practically bulge out of his head.

"Holy shi- WhAT?! Like, for a crime? Or-what-did I-what?!"

"You were innocent!" She says as fast as she can, and watches him deflate only a little.

"I sure fucking hope so! But still, what- how- why- ?"

"You and Rosa were framed by a criminally corrupt cop. It took us a few months to get evidence against her and have her sentenced instead."

"A few months." He whispers and stares at his hands, scrunching up the blanket he's wrapped in.

"You weren't alone." Her voice is soft and calm now, seeing him in such a state of unrest, and it takes all she has not to pull him into a hug - it'd probably both confuse and actually hurt him right now, given the stitches. "I mean, you were alone in prison, but we- the squad - we were all fighting for you and Rosa, and Charles and I visited you, and we- I- we never gave up on you."

He smiles, soft and a little broken, but he nods, as if that was something he'd always expect.

"Okay, now the best thing. Because lemme tell you, Santiago, you have to make up for that suckerpunch."

She smiles much wider now, almost grins as she leans forward to finally reach for his hand, entangling their fingers (to which he goes along almost automatically) and feeling her rings clink against the one on his. Jake's eyes are frozen on her hand in his, where he can see a shiny wedding band over what is clearly his Nana's old engagement ring, and he's barely breathing.

"Oh my god." He whispers a moment later, squeezing her hand almost painfully tight as he looks at her again, and she's still smiling.

"We're married?"

"Yeah."

"To- to each other?"

"Yeah, you doofus." She laughs.

"I'm- I'm your husband." He whispers again. "Even thought I went to jail?!"

"Well", she still laughs softly at the absolute shine in his eyes, the awe on his face. "You proposed after that. But I would've married you before, anyway." I would've married you before a lot of things you don't remember, she thinks but doesn't dare say, for fear he'll ask about those other things.

"You're my wife." He says, still stunned, and she nods. "We're married."

She nods again, and watches as the confused awe on his face turns into an almost relieved joy, and his bottom lip trembles as tears start rolling down his cheeks.

"Jake..." She whispers in turn now, her free hand (that is not currently being gripped by both of his) cupping his face and wiping away some of the tears that keep flowing.

"You're happy?" He asks with trepidation in his voice, and Amy wonders if the emotional rollercoaster is another side-effect of his medicine or just his lowered inhibitions. "I'm a good husband?"

"I couldn't wish for a better husband. You make me very happy." She's almost close to tears now herself. "I love you so much."

He gasps at that, and pulls her still gripped hand up to his face, pulling her closer to him in the process.

"I love you, Amy." is his answer, and she realises he means it, even with all the things he doesn't remember, all the things he doesn't know yet. "I love you so much. I can't believe I get to marry you."

His tears have calmed down a little by now, and she fixes her awkward pose of leaning forward and having both arms reach for his face by climbing up onto the bed with him, as he lowers their hands and looks at her with stars in his eyes and so much love on his face, she can't resist to pass the last few inches and kiss him.

His eyes are still closed when she pulls back and touches her forehead to his, and he's whispering again.

"Wow."

"Well, that's certainly an appreciated reaction." She giggles.

"Don't tell me I don't react like that every time you kiss me, because there's no way I'll believe that."

"Yeah." She smiles again as he opens his eyes and smiles back. "Yeah, you kinda do."

And just to prove it, she kisses him again.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

How We Met

here it is, my last fic for rowaelin month! thank you so much to everyone that’s read, liked and commented on my fics, it’s been so much fun reading and writing these last four weeks! i’m glad to know that i’m not the only one that is in dire need of more rowaelin content (srsly, i would pay sjm a truck load of money for a strictly rowaelin book bc i miss them sm)

here’s part 4 for the little series i had going on. i was so tempted to make this an angst piece but held back lol.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

cw: none

1.8k words

enjoy and thank you again!!! :) 💕💕💕💕

Gathering the ingredients for the cake that she and Ophelia were going to make for Rowan, Aelin plopped them down on the kitchen counter and tied her and her six year old daughters hair back. Even in the kitchen light, Ophelia's hair was a vivid shade of silver and when she turned to look at her mother, the golden ring in her eyes were just as bright.

“Up, mama!” Ophelia asked, pointing to the step ladder that Olive made for her little sister in her woodshop class at school. Getting it off from atop the fridge, Aelin and Ophelia started their baking session for today. It wasn't often that Aelin baked cakes from scratch but it wasn't every day that her firstborn turned sixteen—not that Aelin could really comprehend that her Olive was sixteen—but Aelin wanted to do this for her, wanted to make something special.

She hoped that it wasn't going to taste as bad as the last cake she baked. Rowan had been sick afterwards and didn't go to work the next day.

That was five years ago, so surely with gaining wisdom as people said when others got older, her baking skills grew too.

“Where did everyone go?” Ophelia asked, her little tongue poking out as she helped Aelin sift the flour.

“To get dinner for tonight. We're having Ollie's favourite.” Which was cuisine from the Southern Continent, there was a restaurant that specialised in the spicy food, and Aelin couldn't wait—she and Rowan often tried to recreate their favourite recipes, but it was never right, so Olive wanted to have the genuine stuff for her birthday and not her parents shoddy attempts.

Not that Aelin could blame her.

They continued making the chocolate cake, Ophelia babbling on about her day at school, when her little one asked, “How did you and papa meet?”

Aelin blinked at the sudden question, but answered it nevertheless. “At the grocery store.”

Ophelia furrowed her brows, and with the way her nose scrunched up, she looked so much like Rowan that it made her heart sing. When Aelin first realised that she was pregnant, she was nervous, they had only been married for seven months and while they spoke about having a child of their own, she didn't think it would happen so quickly—but Rowan's enthusiasm melted away her fears. She would never forget his tears of joy when she showed him the pregnancy test, his beaming smile when they heard her heartbeat for the first time. Aelin would walk through hell, as long as Rowan was by her side, or waiting for her at the end.

It wasn't always perfect, however, they had their ups and downs like every long-term couple, they had moments where it felt like they were walking on tightrope, either because of their own personal issues or marriage issues, or when Egan was fourteen and completely lashed out at Aelin, accusing her of replacing his mother—but she worked with her son, telling him that she had never intended to do that, that Lyria would always be the woman that brought him into the world, and that Aelin was raising him. Her heart broke in two at his pain, but she understood, he grew up with photos and stories of Lyria.

Or when they had the awkward conversation when Olive was eleven and asked why she didn't look like Rowan, and Aelin had explained her story, about Sam being her biological father, but he had given them space for Rowan to raise her instead. That had lead to brooding silences and confusion, but otherwise, Olive still saw Rowan as her dad, but she did ask from time to time about Sam, what he was like and what he was doing (the last update Aelin received from him via email that his wife was pregnant with their second child. Aelin was so happy for him that he was able to have a family, a feat that was made easier since Arobynn had been dead for years by this point) and that she would like to meet him properly one day; Aelin had kept that to herself, not wanting to tell Sam in case Olive changed her mind—Aelin hoped that she wouldn't.

Overall, their life together was what she needed, she went to bed each night loved and fulfilled. It was better than what she might have had with Chaol all those years ago, she was fairly certain that if she had married him, it wouldn't have been a long marriage.

“How did you meet at the food store?” Ophelia asked, her brow still furrowed as she and Aelin stirred the cake batter. It surprisingly smelled good.

“I needed something from a high shelf,” Aelin said, “and I couldn't reach it. Your papa was only a few feet away from me, so I asked him to get it for me.” She might have also subtly ogled him as his shirt exposed his tanned skin, and Aelin had damned near swooned at the sight of his six pack.

“Did you get married at the food store?”

Aelin laughed at the question. “No, we got married at the beach. And then you arrived not long afterwards.” Sometimes they wanted another, but things financially were going so well that they didn't want to jeopardise that by adding another mouth to feed.

“Can you have another wedding?” Ophelia asked, looking at her mum with wide eyes. “So I can go? Please?”

“I'll talk to your daddy about it, but I like the sound of that.” Kissing her daughters forehead, they continued. Just as they were putting the cake in the oven and the icing mix in the fridge, the front door opened and three booming voices infiltrated the house and the mouth watering goodness of food.

Aelin's eyes widened at the amount of food that Rowan piled on the table. It looked like they were feeding a small army and not a family of five.

Ophelia helped her older brother set the table, Egan ruffing her hair as he recounted their little adventure to the restaurant.

As they sat down, Aelin mentioned Ophelia's request. Rowan pretended to mull it over as their daughter pleaded, giving her best puppy dog eyes. It didn't take for Rowan to relent—he really had trouble saying no to her—saying that a second wedding was a great idea.

Ophelia squealed in delight and squealed even more when food was placed in front of her (she was very much like Aelin in that regard).

“How did the conversation of another wedding start?” Rowan asked as they all started eating.

“Phia here wanted to know how we meet.”

Olive snorted. “Yes, the ever romantic story of meeting in the toilet paper aisle.”

“It was not the toilet paper isle!” Aelin protested. “It was the cereal aisle.”

“At least you kids have inherited my manners,” Rowan said, “your mother didn't even ask nicely. She just came over to me and said, 'You're tall, could you get that box for me?'” It had taken him a moment to realise he had been spoken to, too focused on deciding what box of porridge to get when Aelin showed up, wearing a faded band shirt and shorts, pointing to the box of cereal that had far too much sugar to be healthy. He had said 'yes' because it was the nice thing to do, and had stayed behind, talking to her for so long in the aisle that his vanilla ice cream had started to melt.

It was the best decision in his life back then, he never thought he would have gained a friend in the grocery store—and that the friend would become his wife.

“I have manners. I said, 'Excuse you' first before I told you what I needed.”

“That's not really using manners there, ma,” Egan said, smiling as poked her tongue out. He looked so much like Lyria that it was almost scary—he still loved flowers and plants too, and was currently studying to become a florist and then one day horticulture. The backyard was full of flowers and plants thanks to him, making into a little wonderland instead of the barren plain it used to be.

“I did say 'thank you' afterwards.”

“You said 'thanks',” Rowan interjected, laughing as Aelin threw a chunk of her flatbread at his head. Ophelia's cute laughter rent through the air.

“It's the same thing!”

“If you say so, love,” Rowan muttered, his lips twitching. Aelin rolled her eyes in the dramatic way Rowan was used to, but he saw the mirth behind the movement.

“Like I said Phie, it's very romantic,” Olive said drily, sounding very much like Rowan. She had even inherited his scowl, which she was wearing now as she sniffed at the air. “Is something burning?”

Aelin had never run so fast as she did right then, the kitchen filling with smoke as she took in the blackened cake. Swearing viciously under her breath, Aelin chucked the cake into the bin, apologising to Olive as she did so.

“It's okay, mum, dad got me an ice-cream cake earlier today anyway.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at her husband, who simply gave her an innocent smile in answer.

Rejoining her family, they talked well into the night, helping Aelin to forget her failed baking attempt. Ophelia asked more questions about their time in the grocery store and how that moment lead to friendship, to pining for the other without realising it, to a life together.

And to think, Aelin almost didn't go to the grocery store that day.

Rowan thanked the gods that he had remembered at the last moment that he had no porridge left, otherwise, he might not have met Aelin at all. Might not have had this life, this family. Part of him would always be sad that things had gone so wrong with Lyria, and he would always miss and love her. But he learned in therapy that it was good to have a life, and Rowan was glad that he heeded that advice.

He thanked the gods all the time.

And thank the rutting gods he did right now for the umpteenth time that Aelin deemed him tall enough to get her food for her, to stay in that aisle with him as they got to know each other.

Rowan was a very happy man indeed as he and Aelin went to bed that night, the smiles still on their faces at Olive's unrestrained joy at the sight of the car they spent weeks looking at second-hand dealerships at, hunting for the perfect car for their daughter.

Thank the rutting gods for all those moments in the past, present, and future.

Rowan couldn't wait to marry her again, and neither could Aelin.

Life was good.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work #thank u!!

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weasleydream · 3 years

Text

i’ll never fall - Ginny x reader

I’m so so sorry that it’s so late! I wrote this for @pregnant-piggy ‘s writing challenge but I got a bit too inspired, I haven’t written that much in so long! Once again, congrats for 2k love <3

My prompts were: “Who do you see when you look at me?” ; “I will never forgive myself for the things I’ve done.” ; and “And you are sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re in love with them?”

Also, once again I think I messed with timeline

As usual, feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

Masterlist

If we were being picky, we could say that all of this began the day Tom Riddle was born. However, this specific point in the history of the wizarding world was the beginning of so many stories that no one could count them all, and mine was complicated enough without mixing them: that’s why we’re going to say that it all began the day I realized I had been manipulated.

_ _ _

It was as if nature itself knew what was coming. If the first of September was usually a bright day, the sun we had been hoping for was a long lost memory erased by the incessant rain. Somehow, even the traditional babblings on platform 9¾ were missing, replaced by parents’ doubts and students’ fears. Was really going to Hogwarts in this year of 1997 a good idea? Dumbledore’s death had been a strong hit to everyone, and now that we knew Snape would be at the head of the school, no one was reassured. Not even Molly Weasley who was usually so valiant. On the platform, with one hand on Ginny’s back and one hand on mine, she seemed as nervous as everyone else, and the fact that she couldn’t look away from Arthur for more than three seconds was the proof we didn’t need.

I remembered perfectly each first of September since I had received my Hogwarts letter. It was five years ago, and I was sure the view of the red train had never provoked such a wave of panic in me before. I glanced at Ginny; she was looking at me, her face closed in an attempt to hide what she was feeling and what she was fearing. A discreet nod confirmed what I already knew: she was as afraid as I was. Somewhere on our left, a voice said both our names, and we turned around to greet Neville. He hadn’t even needed to use a strong voice. He was pushing his cart on which his bags were stacked. On the top of the pile was sitting proudly a little plant.

“Mimbulus mimbletonia?” I asked, and he nodded quietly.

The locomotive whistled and we headed to the nearest door, after having looked away from Ginny and her parents exchanging a quick hug. Most of the compartments were empty, which seemed strange as we had never seen such a small amount of students in the train. Neville led us to the very last compartment where Luna was waiting for us. She said hello, but even her bright personality seemed altered. I really didn’t like this, and it was only the beginning.

Half an hour after the beginning of the journey, I left the compartment to find my other group of friends. Friends was maybe a big word: in fact the only one I got along pretty well with was Zillah. She was a Hufflepuff and I knew her since we were five or six. Our fathers had worked together for a while in a muggle factory when they were younger, hers because he was a muggle and mine because he and my mother had left the wizarding world when He-who-must-not-be-named had risen the first time. Zillah greeted me with a small smile, and one or two other heads looked up to me. I identified a Slytherin guy in the corner opposite to mine but that didn’t surprise me, Zillah was the kind of person that didn’t let such things as houses determine who she loved.

“You didn’t give me a lot of news,” she said when I sat next to her, which forced another girl to shift to the left.

“I know, I just… I was busy.” I looked around quickly, checking that no one was listening to us. The four other persons that were here seemed to be chatting, and only now did I realize that the atmosphere was less heavy than with Ginny, Neville and Luna. Anyways, I decided it was safe enough for me to speak. “You know, with that stuff about my parents…” I added in a lower tone.

Zillah moved closer to me.

“And? Did you find anything?”

“Nothing conclusive. I guess that’s a good sign.”

Zillah nodded and recovered her previous position. She knew what I was talking about: since a few weeks before the beginning of the summer, my main preoccupation was to find out if my parents - and the rest of my family - were or had been death eaters. A lot of old rumours had resurfaced, and my parents, along with one of my aunts and her half-brother, were suspected to belong to the dark side. I had spent the summer looking for proof, investigating, and I now thought that at least my mother wasn’t guilty of what she was accused of. I still had a doubt about my aunt’s half-brother, but we weren’t blood related, so I had decided it wasn’t my problem, and something was off with my father.

“I guess you’re relieved,” suddenly commented Zillah. “Now you’ll stop hiding it from your friends.” Indeed, Luna, Neville and even Ginny didn’t know anything about it, and it had been especially hard to hide during the last two weeks that I had spent at the burrow. Ginny obviously knew there was something off with me and had asked me about it several times, but I didn’t want her to know that, not when Neville had made some comments that had persuaded me I was suspected too. “You don’t seem relieved, though.” she added with a suspicious look. “Are you sure you didn’t find anything conclusive?”

“There’s maybe something about my father,” I mumbled, “but I don’t know what to think about it. Something he did a year or so before You-know-who’s fall that makes me think… Well, it makes me think maybe there’s a possibility that he’s killed a muggle family.”

“What?” Zillah’s voice was louder than expected, and the conversations in the compartment stopped briefly. “Why would he have done something like this?” she asked more quietly when chatters filled the compartment again. “I thought he was clean?”

“I told you I don’t know what to think about it… Something’s strange, but I don’t know what.”

Zillah nodded but stayed silent. She didn’t seem that surprised anymore, as if it was something she had been suspecting for a while. It created a big contrast between us because I was still deeply shaken by the news. Learning that your father might be the assassin of an innocent family wasn’t something you could accept easily. The conversations in the compartment stopped briefly, and I wondered why until I noticed a prefect’s head that had appeared through the glass. It was a girl from Ravenclaw, and she glanced briefly at us before walking away.

“Do you think she’s looking for You-know-who?” guffawed the Slytherin guy.

Everyone in the compartment chuckled, Zillah included. However, it wasn’t the kind of subject that made me laugh, and I suddenly felt really out of place among these people. I hastily saluted Zillah and left the compartment. I took a few steps just to be out of their sight, and then I stopped, asking myself if I really wanted to go back to Ginny, Neville and Luna. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation, Ginny was the person I was the closest to in the school, but she was really friends with Luna and Neville, and she shared way more with them than with me. If Luna was kind to everyone and me included, Neville had often shown restraint with me, without mentioning the few times I had caught him becoming suddenly very silent as soon as I had stepped in the same room as him. Finally, I decided going back to their compartment was better than spending the rest of the journey standing between two glass doors.

“- sorry he was ever born. Harry said it was him who killed Dumbledore, he’s not going to get away with it that easily, trust me.”

It was Ginny who was talking, and she didn’t stop when I opened the door. She just shifted to the left to make some room for me, and I sat after having made sure that the door was well closed. Making that kind of comment in a train crowded with people whose intentions weren’t all clear could be very dangerous.

“And how do you want to proceed?” Asked Luna. “Don’t you think he’ll think some people are thinking like this?”

“We don’t care,” said Neville. “He’ll pay for what he has done.”

“If any of you has an idea, feel free to suggest it. That goes for you too, Y/N, okay?”

I nodded, but a feeling of uneasiness had invaded me. Ginny looked at me with a raised eyebrow, asking me silently what was in my mind.

“If Snape is at the head of Hogwarts… don’t you think he’ll ask other death eaters to come with him?” A silence greeted my question. “Of course it doesn’t mean I won’t help you!” I added precipitously, “Just that we should be really careful. I’m not sure we know exactly what’s coming, that’s all.”

“You’re right,” said Neville. “But death eaters or not, everyone who throws a spanner in our work is going to have to face us.”

_ _ _

No matter how hard I had tried to convince myself that Hogwarts would be extremely different from before, the sight of the castle took a severe toll on me. The atmosphere reminded me a bit of the one that had enveloped us when Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban: full of fear and Dementors in the sky and around the park. It didn’t look like the safest place on earth anymore, that was for sure.

It was in silence that all the students that were in the train joined the castle. I was next to Ginny; Neville and Luna were just behind and I could see Zillah’s head a few meters in front of us. It didn’t take a long time to realize that the fears I had expressed before were founded: at each side of the entrance door were three people, all dressed in black, with a severe expression and a very straight posture. A whisper ran through the crowd of students; were they death eaters? The answer came to us in the form of a shout from a massive man.

“Shut up and move!”

From the corner of the eye, I saw Ginny stiffening and glaring at the guy who had just yelled. She had never looked as dangerous as right now, and I knew better than to think that it was an appearance.

“Ginny!” I hissed as quietly as possible. “Stop this!”

“But he’s-”

“I know!” Of course I had recognized Amycus Carrow, who had tried his best to torture Ginny only a few months ago. If he had failed, it was just because Ginny had drunk some Felix Felicis before the battle of the Astronomy tower. “But if you don’t want them to show what they are capable of, you’ll have to keep it cool until we’re in the dorm.”

She sighed loudly and nodded. If this time I had adopted the voice of reason, it didn’t mean that I wanted to stay here longer than necessitated, so I picked up the pace to walk past the death eaters. The sigh of relief I wanted to breathe when they would be out of sight stayed blocked in my throat, though: people all dressed in black were standing at regular intervals and this, on each side of the corridor. The silence was heavier in the inside of the castle; it was as if, without being clearly told, everyone had understood that staying quiet was for the best. Only the sound of our feet on the stones could be heard, and it was in this tense atmosphere that we arrived in the Great Hall.

The four main tables were still here and still the same. It was naturally that I followed Ginny to the Gryffindor table and took place next to her; and only when Neville was sitting in front of us while Luna was joining her place did I realize that the professors’ table was way smaller than before. A few more death eaters were standing in a corner, but Snape’s presence at the exact place Dumbledore used to stand at was the reason everyone was looking in this direction without a word.

“Look at him…” murmured Neville, which caused him to deal with some terrified looks.

Snape hadn’t even pronounced anything yet that he had already terrorized half of the school. Then his voice thundered and repercuted between the naked walls and the once magical roof that was now devoid of stars and colorful banners.

“Things have changed, and they will keep changing.” He paused and his eyes wandered amongst the students. I could have sworn his gaze had stopped on us, and according to the shiver that shook the girl next to me, it wasn’t just an impression. “From now on, the school is mine, and the rules you will follow are mine. Each breach of the rules will cost you a price much higher than a few house points. Any attempt to rebel will be severely punished. I also suggest you to remain in the ranks, or else the consequences could be unfortunate.”

As soon as the echo of his voice disappeared, Snape turned heels and sat in the central seat of the table. He lifted his hand and the doors opened; a seemingly exhausted professor McGonagall was walking in front of a bunch of terrified first years, and to the sound of their steps added weak sobs. When she walked past us, McGonagall glanced quickly in our direction, and from the corner of the eye I saw Ginny nodding imperceptibly. When she finally reached the single wooden stool that had gone unnoticed until then, it was with a firm voice that she shouted the name of the first student. It was as if she was trying her best to ignore the fact that Hogwarts had become the most dangerous place for us all, or maybe to show us that we weren’t alone in this.

The dinner - because it was hard to call this a feast - was conducted expeditiously and the first students to leave the great hall didn’t stay more than twenty minutes. Almost an hour and a half after our arrival, Snape’s watch dogs forced the remaining students to leave the great hall and to join the common rooms. A frightening silence was reigning everywhere in the castle, and the cosy common room of the Gryffindor house wasn’t exception. A very few people were occupying the sofas around the chimney, there wasn’t any first year left, and most of the students following us directly took the direction of the stairs leading to the dorms. Neville saluted us quite darkly and disappeared too.

“I didn’t think it would be so… the way it is.” I whispered as Ginny and I were sitting around a table in the corner of the room. “I remember the day we first entered the great hall… All these terrified kids, it’s awful. They’ll have to pay.”

“I agree. It’s a good thing that a few members of Dumbledore's army are still here, we’ll need as much help as we can get. We’ll have to-”

Ginny suddenly stopped and jumped on her feet, glaring at some point behind my back. I got up too, on the verge of asking what was happening, but the noise that echoed gave me the answer. Amycus Carrow and a woman that looked just like him had barged in, and they were now barking on the third years that were on the sofas. When one of them muttered that they had no right to come here, the woman drew her wand and pointed it between the guy’s eyes. Completely terrified, the latter followed his friend without another word. Understanding that it was useless and dangerous to provoke them at the moment, I went around the table and grabbed Ginny’s wrist. We took the direction of the stairs and we had almost disappeared behind the stone when we both saw it. Amycus Carrow had just nodded at me with a polite smile on the lips. Ginny’s arm moved quickly and a second later, she was shutting the door between us.

_ _ _

“The Weasley girl still doesn't want to talk to you?” asked Zillah with her mouth half full of bread as I was sitting next to her.

This had become the usual greeting she gave me each morning since I had camped in front of the Hufflepuff common room’s door, just after this thing with Amycus two weeks ago. Ginny had refused to talk to me since then, not even giving me a chance to explain, and of course the next morning Neville’s glares had added to hers. Even Luna didn’t look at me with her natural kindness anymore. Zillah had seemed very surprised when she had seen me the next morning; because I had spent the night on the hard floor of the corridor or because no one had caught me, I wasn’t sure. Still, she was now the friend I seemed to have in this castle.

“No, still not.”

“I think she needs time. I mean, she thinks you’re getting friendly with a death eater. You told me it’s the one who tried to torture her last year, right?”

I hummed and Zillah shrugged.

“Then I understand why she’s upset.” she paused to pat my shoulder. “Maybe she’ll even come to you first, who knows?”

“I hope so…”

Then a silence took place. My eyes were fixed on Ginny who was talking with Neville and Luna. The three of them were isolated from the rest of the Gryffindor that were in the great hall for breakfast, which wasn’t a lot. It was clear that their attitude was hiding something fishy with them.

“Are they preparing something?” suddenly asked Zillah. She was looking in the same direction as me and had a reprobatory look on her face.

“Probably, yes. They want to defend the castle,” I said before shaking my head. “I hope they’ll be prudent, it would kill Molly if something happened to her.”

“Yes, it looks like Ginny and her mother are really close to each other.”

I glanced at Zillah, surprised that she knew so much about Molly. As far as I knew, she had never talked to a Weasley. But my interrogations were cut short when an altercation burst on the other side of the great hall. Neville was standing up to one of Snape’s friends, and he was hiding a young girl behind him, probably a first year. Luna slipped underneath the table and grabbed the girl’s hand, leading her outside while Ginny was trying to calm Neville down. Finally, the silence came back when he agreed to follow her, and they disappeared behind the huge door.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t scream in their ears until they listen to you.” Zillah paused the time to let Snape walk to the professors’ table before getting closer to me. “I mean, your side of the street is clean, right? It’s not your fault if Amycus is weird.” I shrugged, trying to find the good words to explain why I had been waiting for two weeks instead of grasping the nettles. “Unless you think you have a reason to blame yourself, of course…” She finished with an interrogative look.

“Well… One of her brothers has been badly hurt by Fenrir Greyback, and his wedding has been ruined by death eaters. Another of his brothers was poisoned last year because of Malfoy. She has more reasons to hate the death eaters than anyone else and… I still don’t know what happened with my father, and I have even more doubts since this thing with Carrow... I just feel like it’s not right to stay by her side if I’m not sure that my father’s innocent, you know?”

Zillah nodded.

“I think you’re right, you can’t risk her hating you for nothing,” she conceded. “But how will you find the answers you’re looking for?”

“I don’t know.” I grumbled, before slamming my fist on the table. “It’s so unfair! What the hell is happening? Why does it have to be happening to me?”

“Relax Y/N, I’m not sure you want to make a scene in the middle of the great hall.” Zillah wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “You know you’re not alone, right? Whatever happens with Ginny and the others, I’m still with you.”

_ _ _

It was so unexpected that it took a few seconds for me to process what I had just heard. I was walking in the corridors somewhere near the library when three voices stopped me dead in my tracks. The voices were coming from behind the door that was just in front of me, belonging to three men I had never heard before even though they were obviously part of Snape’s watch dogs. At first, the voices were too low and all I could hear was a blur of unidentified sounds. But as soon as my ears were used to the muffled words, I realized they were talking about a particularly severe punishment and I had the feeling that I knew who was the target.

“ - couldn’t get them yet. Seems like the director is nervous about this and we all know how he can be when he’s not satisfied. He says it may be for today.”

“Maybe, but the fuckers are well organized, and we can’t just take them like this. The seniors won’t let us and we can’t afford to have the Order in our way.”

“The third year we’ve interrogated earlier said they were preparing their things in a special room in the castle, the room of requirements I think he said. Seventh floor. We can take a shot.”

“Never heard of this before, you sure he didn’t lie to you?”

“Trust me, he knew better than that.”

The first who had talked said something else, but I didn’t hear it. I had taken a few steps back and my brain was almost burning: how could I avoid Ginny and the others getting caught? I knew what was going to happen if evidences were found, I myself had paid full price for defending a bunch of terrified second years in front of Alecto Carrow and the sanction reserved for Ginny, Neville and Luna oughted to be even worse.

The wooden door suddenly opened, leaving me defenseless in front of three death eaters that drew their wands as in one. I was so terrified that my brain, which was so fast only a few seconds ago, seemed to be freezing along with the blood in my veins.

“I suggest that you find a good excuse for listening to us, or I can promise you you’ll regret it.” threatened a tall and thin man, whose face seemed to be the copy of a rat’s.

“I know what they’re going to do and where I can tell you if you want.” I blurted out before holding my breath, praying that they would be convinced.

The three guys exchanged looks, and the one on the left seemed dangerously sceptical. Finally, the rat-faced guy nodded and lifted an eyebrow.

“It’s for soon, in the potions classroom.” I started, trying my best to keep control of my breath. “I believe they want to make it explode, I’ve seen them gathering all sorts of forbidden products. I think they’re already there, but-”

“You better be telling the truth.”

With that, the three men left precipitously and as soon as their bodies had disappeared from my sight, I turned tails and ran in the other direction. I needed to get to Ginny as soon as possible to warn her not to do whatever she had in mind. By the time I had gotten to the seventh floor, my legs were burning and my lungs felt like they were on the verge of exploding. Without losing a second, I began pacing to make the door appear but someone’s arrival interrupted me.

“You here? Get out of here, you traitor!”

It was Seamus, and he rolled up his sleeve as if to address his words.

“Seamus!” I exclaimed, which definitely surprised him. “I need you to tell Ginny to stop whatever she’s preparing. She’s in danger, you hear me? In danger! Someone denounced her to Snape and he knows she’s here with Neville, Luna and whoever helps them. I led the death eaters off the scent but it won’t be enough, tell them, okay?”

And with that, I left as quickly as I had come, afraid that the wrong person could see me here and guess what had happened. I glanced in my back one last time - Seamus was still looking at me, seemingly very confused, but he nodded silently before being hidden by the wall. I only managed to join the fifth floor when a voice shouted loudly.

“You! Stop!”

I had been caught.

The rat-faced guy grabbed my arm, his fingers tightening me so tightly that it felt like he was touching my bones. He was almost growling, the sound coming from the depth of his throat and terrifying me as much as a snarling wolf would have. The man, Marcus as it seemed since one of his friends called him when he joined us, abruptly pulled my arm to make me walk behind him. His pace was quick and determined, and his jaw tightly clenched. As far as I could see, he was furious, and the little hope I had left vanished. I didn’t even know if I would make it out alive.

The three men brought me to an empty classroom that I was positive I had never been in before. The tables were all covered in a thick layer of dust, some of them were broken and so were the chairs. There was no window, only one door and the latter closed quietly behind us. I had the intuition that it wouldn’t open that easily, and definitely not soon.

It was dark in there, but not enough to be blind. That made me realize that the walls had a certain number of cracks, and for a second I thought of screaming with all the breath in my lungs. Marcus probably had the same idea at the same time; before I could do anything, he cast a silencing spell on me.

“This way, we’re sure we won’t be bothered.” he whispered with a twisted smile.

My heart began to beat at a terrible pace, and the fact that I was trying to scream so loud without even producing a whimper made me feel so defenseless that I never tried to protect myself. I just waited for the punishment, knees getting numb on the stone floor, expecting the pain without receiving it. It looked like it wasn’t what Marcus wanted; he tried to get me to react, maybe even attack him in what we both knew would be a desperate and useless attempt to escape; he pushed me before putting me back on my knees, insulted me, described me all he would do to me, all he wanted to do to Ginny, but I didn’t want to give him satisfaction. I wanted to focus on something else than the torture I was about to suffer, and all I found was to imagine Ginny swooping in to save me and telling me she wasn’t mad anymore.

However, it wasn’t Ginny’s voice that I heard when the first Cruciatus spell hit me, and it wasn’t hers either that I heard during the unending time that the punishment lasted.

_ _ _

“Y/N? Y/N?”

The voice seemed to come from a dream, muffled as if I had cotton in the ears, distant and soothing.

“Y/N!”

It suddenly became louder, more defined, and with the proximity I heard something else in this voice. Something that wasn’t soothing, it was the contrary; it was anxious and stressful, not very steady but not shaking either. More importantly, it was Ginny’s voice.

I opened my eyes, and it took a moment to remember where I was. The classroom. I could see the tables that had been moved around me, and I could even see the walls which was impossible before. A tall silhouette was getting close to me, someone that I couldn’t identify because the door was open behind them and there was too much light. The person that was now next to me kneeled and Ginny’s features appeared. She seemed disturbed, sad too.

“She’s awake!” she shouted above her shoulder, which made me screech. My head was on the verge of exploding. “Come on,” she added more softly as her eyes were on me again. “We’ll bring you somewhere safe.”

I nodded and let her and Neville, who had gotten in too, lift me to put me back on my feet. My legs had never felt so heavy and devoid of strength, I was nothing more than a dead weight as the two carried me out of this hell. As we got closer to the door, I identified three more persons; Zillah was standing next to Luna, and Seamus had taken a step forward to help Ginny. The latter shook her head and I felt her grip on my waist tightening.

The way to the room of requirements - I had heard Neville mentioning it, so I had supposed it was our destination - was essentially composed of stairs, and no matter how hard I tried to help Neville and Ginny, there wasn’t an ounce of energy left in my body. Every single cell was terribly painful, I had never suffered so much in my life before.

We finally reached a corridor of the seventh floor, the same in which I had stumbled upon Seamus earlier - how long I didn’t know though, it was another question I would have to ask. A huge door appeared and Ginny half carried me inside. She helped me reach a makeshift bed on the floor, and as soon as my head touched the fabric, my eyes closed.

And they stayed closed for a while, or so I supposed when I woke up. The room was no longer almost empty, it was more looking like an anthill now that all the beds and hammocks were occupied. But it wasn’t exactly time for sleeping; all the conversations were forming a soft buzzing somehow reassuring. Despite my sore body, I sat up and took a better look around me. The room wasn’t huge, maybe a bit bigger than a large classroom, not much more. The beds were in fact makeshift mattresses with colorful blankets, and the hammocks that were as colorful were suspended to the walls. There were also two banners hanging from the wall in front of the door; one for Gryffindor and one for Ravenclaw.

“It’s because we only have Gryffindors and Ravenclaws here,” said Ginny as she arrived from behind me with a water bottle. She handed it to me and I glanced to thank her before drinking avidly. “Though we probably will have to add another, your friend Zillah is here too. Very curious, maybe even too much.” she frowned before shaking her head. “But it’s not important. Are you feeling better?”

Ginny waited patiently as I was finishing the water. The sips I took were now longer and I was slower for a very good reason: I didn’t know what to say. Ginny wasn’t stupid though, and she gestured toward two Ravenclaw girls that I didn’t know. They nodded and left, leaving the two of us alone in this corner of the room.

“Y/N, I need you to tell me how you’re feeling.”

I could have answered a lot of things, like hungry, cold, afraid, sore… It was all true. Yet now Ginny was next to me, caring for me, and there was only one answer that seemed correct.

“Safe,” I murmured.

“You are now.” she whispered back. “We’ll make them pay, you can trust me.”

I nodded. The thought was somewhat soothing, but I couldn’t focus on that. It seemed strange that after such a long time spent seemingly hating me, at least avoiding me, Ginny was now sitting next to me, bringing me water and promising she would seek vengeance for me.

“Ginny, who do you see when you look at me?”

She looked up to me, seemingly surprised.

“I see one of my best friends that has been tortured to protect me. I know, Seamus told me,” she added before I could say anything. “I don’t see a traitor or an enemy, if that’s what you were asking. I’ve never seen a traitor or an enemy. Just… Someone I didn’t trust enough, I guess.”

I looked away, slightly hurt. I would have trusted her with my life, even before all of this. Knowing that it wasn’t mutual was something I would have a hard time to accept.

“Y/N, trust me, I’ll never forgive myself for the things I’ve done to you. I shouldn’t have been so mefiant, I should have given you a chance to explain.”

“Yes, you should have.”

Ginny looked away, something that looked a lot like regret painted all over her face. It was rare to see her displaying her deepest emotions, it caught me by surprise and it was without thinking that I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry, you trust me now, right? That’s all that matters.”

Ginny nodded and stared at me with an interrogative look.

“Can I ask you something?” She didn’t wait for my answer and continued. “Why didn’t you try to explain? Actually, what happened that day? Why was Carrow so… nice with you?”

“I don’t know why,” I mumbled. “I found it as strange as you. As for why I didn’t explain, it’s… it’s complicated, Ginny.”

“I think I can understand.”

There was no way I could avoid this discussion, that was clear. So I sighed and told her everything about all the research I had gone through, why I suspected my father to be a murderer, why I had felt like I didn’t have the right to be her friend. Ginny stayed silent for a while, and I didn’t have any idea on what her reaction would be. Her face was closed, she was looking at some point in the opposite corner of the room, where Zillah was talking with Luna and another Ravenclaw girl.

“And what was Zillah’s reaction when you told her you didn’t feel like you could be my friend?”

I hesitated before answering. The question was weird, it was not really what I was expecting but Ginny seemed to be deep in her thoughts.

“She said that I was right, I shouldn’t talk to you before being sure my father was innocent. Why?”

“You don’t find it strange that she didn’t advise you the contrary? To come to me and try to explain?”

“I… don’t know.” I hesitated again. “Ginny, what are you thinking about?”

“You noticed that Zillah was there when we found you in the classroom, earlier?” I nodded. Yes, I had seen her, even though I wasn’t expecting her when it was Ginny, Neville, Luna and Seamus that she was accompanying. “No one told her what you had done, and she wasn’t with you before. She’s the one who led us to you. How did she know?”

“Ginny… I know where this is going, but you’re wrong. Zillah’s my friend, and she didn’t even know what I was going to do! I was alone when I heard their conversation and I didn’t see her afterward.”

“I’m not talking about this.” Ginny’s voice was calm, and it was firmly that she grabbed my wrist to address her words. “Y/N, I’m not saying she denounced you to the death eaters. I’m saying she denounced us to them, and you just happened to hear them.”

“But how would she-”

I suddenly stopped because the question was useless. I knew how she had learnt about what Ginny, Neville and the others were preparing. Something as burning as acid slowly crept in my veins; it was guilt, because I was the one who had told her.

“I’m sorry Y/N, but it looks like you gave your trust to the wrong person.”

“Ginny, I’m- I’m sorry, if I had been-”

“It’s not your fault. I promise she too will pay for hurting you.”

Ginny was now infuriated; if her face was stoic, her eyes said it all for her.

_ _ _

“Zillah?” repeated Luna. “I knew I shouldn’t have warned her about the Wrackspurts. She deserves to have her brain go fuzzy.”

“Brain fuzzy or not, at least we know who the traitor is.” added Ginny. “Now, we have to confront her.”

“But we have no proof,” interjected Neville. “We’re not sure that she’s really the one who ratted us out, maybe she found us just because she was looking for Y/N. As for the ‘you shouldn’t talk to Ginny thing’, it’s not a secret that she doesn’t like us, maybe she just wanted to keep Y/N for herself.”

“It can’t be a coincidence,” said Ginny. “And I refuse to let her get out of this just because we’re not sure.”

“You’re making it personal.”

“Of course I’m making it personal!” exploded Ginny. “You saw Y/N too, didn’t you? You helped me carry her because she had been tortured so much that she couldn’t even walk! How can I make it anything else than personal?”

Seeing them talking about me as if I wasn’t here was getting annoying, so I just interrupted them. It caused me to deal with a murderous look that disappeared as soon as Ginny realized it was me.

“Neville’s right, we can’t do anything as long as we’re not sure. And it’s not by sitting here that you’ll find the proof you’re looking for,” I added before Ginny could interrupt me. “Maybe we should stop talking and begin searching.”

“You’re right,” she conceded. “Neville, Luna, you should start asking people about Zillah, but only people we trust, okay?”

Neville rolled his eyes, either because of the obvious recommendation or because Ginny had taken her time to admit he was right, but he still got up and followed Luna. As for me, I ignored Ginny’s piercing eyes when she asked me to follow her out of the room of requirements. We both stayed silent for a while: everytime one of us wanted to say something, someone stepped in the corridor we were in and silence was never broken.

“I know what you’re doing.” Finally said Ginny as we were heading to the library. She brushed aside my innocent face and continued. “I think you’re still hoping that she’s innocent.” It was useless to deny it; of course I didn’t want Ginny to be right, so instead of trying to find excuses, I shrugged. “I get it that it’s hard for you Y/N, placing your trust in the wrong person is… Well, it’s not very pleasant. But you have people you can trust around you, you have real friends. You have me.”

“Thank you Ginny. I- I needed to hear that.”

She nodded and accelerated a bit to open the library’s door in front of me.

“You didn’t tell me what we’re doing here,” I murmured as I was following her through the shelves until we stumbled upon Madam Pince.

“Can we go to the restricted section? It’s important.”

Madam Pince simply nodded and Ginny gestured to me to follow her.

“Since when can we go to the restricted section without any authorization?” I asked, flabbergasted.

“We have one, Madam Pince just allowed us, didn’t she?” Ginny glanced at me with an amused look. “It’s not the first time I’m searching in this section for information, that’s all.”

“I’ve been several times too and I always needed a note from a professor,” I grumbled as Ginny opened the door of the section. Once sure we were alone in it, Ginny turned to me and finally explained why we were here.

“We’re going to do some research about this muggle family you think your father has killed.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s something strange, and with Zillah’s reaction, I wonder if her family isn’t involved.”

“Impossible,” I objected. “They are muggles.”

“That’s what she told you.” I was beginning to find this far-fetched when she asked me something else that made me doubt. “Tell me, does Zillah seem scared by the whole muggle born thing to you?”

I opened and closed my mouth several times. Now that I thought about it, she didn’t seem even concerned by the several attacks and controls that the muggle borns were suffering. I hadn’t heard her talking about it once, and if we added the behaviour I had found inappropriate in the train, then it was natural to think that maybe she had something to hide. As Ginny was still monologuing, I found a table in a corner between two shelves and pulled a chair; I hadn’t said anything about it, but all the cells of my body were still burning, making every movement really painful.

“Does it still hurt?” asked Ginny from behind me. Her hand suddenly appeared in front of me, holding a vial filled with potion. “It’s for the pain.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled before drinking it straight. “So, where do we begin?”

The next hour and half was spent pouring over genealogy books and articles mentioning murders and death eaters. The potion Ginny had given me had made me sleepy, my eyes were closing despite my will to stay awake to find information, and Ginny eventually decided it was enough for this day.

“I’m going to bring you back to the room of requirements, and then I’ll help Neville and Luna, okay?”

I nodded and let her put back in their shelves all the books we had been reading. Then we left the library and joined our little safe place. Ginny only left after having made sure I was in my bed and too asleep to move away from it.

_ _ _

“I gotta admit you were right,” mumbled Neville, the eyes still fixed on the picture he was holding.

“I knew it, there was something strange from the beginning! Zillah is a liar and she had us all.”

Ginny had finally found the proof she had been looking for for days now: my father wasn’t a murderer. He had probably never known the muggle family that had been killed, I would have to ask him if the opportunity arose. The picture was a good enough evidence in itself: it had been taken by a muggle that lived in a street close to where the murder had occured, only a few minutes after the presumed moment of the facts. It showed a man leaving an alley with what looked awfully like blood all over his clothes. He was a wizard, which couldn’t be denied as he was holding a wand, and more importantly, his face wasn’t my fathers but the same as Zillah. I had first objected that it could be a coincidence; that was great because I was now sure my father wasn’t responsible, but maybe it wasn’t a member of Zillah’s family? Ginny had then handed me a copy of a muggle newspaper that mentioned a guy with Zillah’s family name, saying that he had been missing for a week. He had disappeared two days before the murder.

“But-” I had tried to object before Neville interrupted me.

“Listen Y/N, I think that these are unquestionable evidence. I understand that you refuse to believe that your friend lied to you, but it seems pretty obvious to me that she isn’t the person she says she is.”

“Even if it’s his father, it doesn’t mean that she knew!” I exclaimed. Neville and Ginny exchanged a glance that I didn’t like at all, and Ginny sighed.

“There’s something we haven’t told you,” she began. “We didn’t want to break it to you unless we were sure, but with all the things we’ve found, there’s no doubt left. You know this Slytherin guy she’s always with?” I nodded, apprehending what was next. “He and all his family have sworn allegiance to You-know-who. She meets regularly with him and a few other people in the dungeons. Most of them have well known death eaters in their family.”

Neville and Ginny were both looking at me and looking sorry. The latter patted my shoulder before wrapping her arm around my shoulders.

“We can’t let her know we’ve figured everything out,” she murmured. “I think it would be too dangerous.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Neville shook his head, an irritating sympathetic look on his face, and he left without another word. Ginny was still just next to me; with everything that had happened, I was probably in for several months with her following me like my own shadow. That thought didn’t bother me at all.

“You know, Neville doesn’t really understand why you didn’t ask your family about all of this,” said Ginny after a few minutes spent in silence. “After all, with the rumours it’s legitimate. Is it because of this?”

“I wasn’t sure I could trust my mother to tell me the truth, and I didn’t ask my father for obvious reasons. As for the rest of my family, they are all suspected too.”

“I see,” she murmured. “I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t find anything about them, just the proof that your father’s innocent. At least now, you’ll be able to ask your parents.”

I noded silently. After another few minutes, Ginny decided I had to change my mind and offered to follow her in the greenhouses. I first refused; couldn’t she let me get depressed on my own? But she insisted and I eventually gave up, secretly grateful that she hadn’t just left me alone.

I thought that with time, I had gotten used to the new Hogwarts, to the now omnipresent silence and darkness that crept in every corridor. It had been a while since the first of September, a time long enough to forget how joyful the place used to be. However, when we got to the main floor, where usually there were always several groups of students and even teachers no matter what time it was, it hit me harder than ever that the school was now like dead. As if it had been killed by all the evil that had invited itself.

“It’s scary, isn’t it?” I glanced at Ginny, wondering if she was thinking about the same thing as I was. “How everything seems physically darker than before,” she added. “In all honesty, I don’t know anymore what could save the castle… I thought that Dumbledore's Army was the solution, but let’s face it… We’re not changing anything here.”

“You’re wrong, many students are safe in the room of requirements thanks to Dumbledore’s Army. And think about the day Harry, Ron and Hermione will come back, think about how things will change!”

Ginny nodded with a smile and quietly thanked me. If it hadn’t sounded so cliché, I would have answered that she had done way more for me, and that all I wanted was her to be confident because I would have done anything for her. But it did sound very cliché, so I just shrugged it off.

“Funny how you just thought of my brother and his friend,” Ginny suddenly said with a malicious smile. “You are sure it had nothing to do with the fact that you’re in love with him?”

“What?” I exclaimed in disbelief. “Me? In love with Ron? Certainly not!”

“Then why are you always so excited to come with us for the holidays?”

Ginny seemed to be really amused by the situation, but I really wasn’t. She was right when she said that I was always overjoyed to spend some time at the Burrow but it wasn’t for Ron, I barely spoke with him! I wasn’t sure about the reason behind this excitement but it was definitely not her brother.

“I don’t know, but trust me, it’s not because of any of your brothers.”

“That’s too bad.” she stated, even though it didn’t really look like she was disappointed. “I still hope one day, you’ll be officially part of the family.” I laughed, and agreed with her. “You know what they say, as long as there’s life, there’s hope!”

“Yeah, well it looks like we won’t stay hopeful for long, then,” I mumbled as I was watching the empty corridor.

“You shouldn’t be so pessimistic, Y/N.” Ginny wasn’t smiling anymore, but she wasn’t looking defeated either. She was just determined. “We’re together, there’s inevitably hope. You and I, we’re two against the storm, and we have our friends and family. I’m not too afraid, and I don’t want you to be.”

“I’m not,” I smiled. “Not anymore. Ginny, I just wanted you to know that… As long as you need me, I won’t fall.”

She grabbed my hand and smiled.

“I’ll always need you.”

“Then I’ll never fall.”

#dev's2kwritingchallenge #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #Ginny Weasley #ginny weasley imagine #ginny weasley x y/n #ginny weasley x reader #ginny weasley x you

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imgonnapanic · 3 years

Text

Third gym squad with a theater kid s/o:

Kuroo Tetsurou

Tbh, he knew what he was signing up for when he started dating you.

He’s just not used to it, because he doesn’t have many extroverted friends who aren’t annoying pieces of-

I can envision you both going on the hub to watch pirated musicals. Hamilton, Heathers, Dear Evan Hansen, you name it.

He loooves your singing voice, even if it’s your nervous purposely bad one.

You love the musicals that include allll the good stuff (trauma, death, tragedy, etc.)

Or the iconic ones. You can’t forget about those.

So you’re less-than-thrilled when your school chooses “Honk! The Musical” for this years play.

It’s a spin off of the ugly duckling that no one has heard of.

And when you come up to Kuroo sulking about this boring play you’re emotionally obliged to do, he can’t help but laugh a little.

But his laughter stops when he sees your eyes down at your shoes.

And then he shuts the fuck up because you’re actually upset.

After assuring that you will still be Broadway material even if you’re dressed up as a goose, you feel a little better.

In the two weeks leading up to auditions, Kuroo is starting to get caught humming “A Poultry Tale” at practice.

I mean, his Spotify feed went from Kendrick Lamar to Legally Blonde within one month of dating you, so cut the guy a break.

The day of auditions, you’re a bundle of nerves as you go over the dumb song again and again.

And Kuroo is like “calm down babe you’re gonna do great.”

That sure did a ton.

“Shut up Heather”

...

“Sorry Heather”

He’s also a bundle of nerves at practice, though. He just couldn’t let you see it.

By now, all of the Nekoma team knows you’re auditioning today, and the minute he walks in he just holds up a hand.

“They’re auditioning as we speak”

He’s not surprised when you get the lead.

He looks like the cat who ate the canary he’s a little amused when he figures out the lead is named “Ugly” but by now he has learned to keep it on the inside.

Your schedule is now jam packed, but that’s okay, because Nationals are also coming up for Kuroo and needs to put in some extra hours at the gym anyways.

You better believe two months later Kuroo is making his entire team buy a ticket.

Kuroo didn’t even get to see you on opening night because of dress rehearsals, but that’s okay.

He cleared his entire schedule that day and now has time to wallow in his own excitement and buy you some flowers.

He’s there with the squad team at 6PM sharp, dressed up, and trying to keep his dignity.

When you first walk on stage, the team snickers a little bit at your costume, but Kuroo was completely enraptured by your singing voice, your blocking, your makeup, everything.

This was much better than the demo CD that they had given you.

Afterwards, he gives you your flowers and is glued to your side for the rest of the night, babbling about how proud he was of you, and how talented you are, Nekoma team be damned.

Tsukishima Kei

Tsukki-poo already had a soft spot for the arts before he met you.

Not that he would tell anyone, ever.

When you started dating him though, it gave him an excuse to share his favorite soundtracks.

“you can hit that note, you know.”

*cue the arguing about how you aren’t Barbara Streisand*

When you two are walking through the hallway with him and you see the poster reading “Auditions for Karasuno High School’s ‘The Little Mermaid’ are open!” You start freaking out.

You love that movie! And Kei tolerates it!

Kei honestly thought you would be Ariel/Prince Eric when he first heard you singing “Part of Your World”

Like, you have the voice of a fucking lark. The directors have to be batshit crazy not to cast you.

In his humble opinion.

So he’s a bit taken aback when you get the role of Flounder, but he’s very proud anyways. Especially after you explain that there’s musical numbers that you’re in that aren’t in the movie.

He just hates your director for no reason now.

Practicing your lines with him in your free time becomes almost inevitable because you both have nothing else better to do.

And he can see how into it you are.

And let me just say that you are killing it.

Seriously. You have no problem getting into character, and Kei doesn’t say this much but-

It’s fucking adorable, okay? He has little goth moths in his stomach.

And he can’t wait to see the show, because then he can show you off.

That doesn’t mean he likes the other first years prying at your progress.

Hinata’s incessant questioning about theater anatomy and the memorization of your lines gets really annoying.

Even for someone with a normal temper like you-

“Yes it’s called the right wing. NOT wing spiker. Yes they’re off book. Now will you shut your trap already?”

Dress Rehearsals come, and you’re spinning around his room, face morphing from complete concentration to happy, go-lucky Flounder.

You, Kei, and Yamaguchi (your little third wheel-) all know the soundtrack pretty much up and down, left and right, backwards and inside out.

He still shivers remembering the time you just walked into his house not registering that Flounder’s makeup looks kind of scary up close-

All of his pride was sacrificed that day. All of it.

On the morning of opening night, Kei was walking you to the school, pretending to be bitchy about it being on a Saturday.

“C’mon, what am I supposed to do all day?”

As luck would have it, he’s stuck sitting next to one Hinata Shoyo. Lovely.

So he sat down next to him, and ignored him the whole show. I mean, it worked, he shut up after thirty seconds.

After the show, Kei has to wait a bit for you to take your makeup off, but when you come running out, he can’t hold back a tiny grin.

“That was good. I’m proud of you.”

And then he took you to dinner because singing makes a bad bleep hungry 😌

Bokuto Kotarou

Listen, you’re loud, Bokuto’s loud-

So basically you two are on a mission to not annoy Akaashi for as long as you can before inevitably getting yelled at for your affection and love and shit.

Now, both of you would love for this to be possible.

But the Frozen soundtrack makes it too difficult.

Especially when you can edit the lyrics just to piss off Konoha.

“Turn away and slAm the door *on Konoha”

“The wind is howling like the storm inside *of Konoha”

The possibilities are endless, really.

The game changer is when you two are belting out the song where Elsa and Anna are arguing.

And you accidentally hit the “I-i-I CANNNNT”

Akaashi is like for the love of GOD just audition for the play.

He quickly realizes that his suggestion was not a good idea.

Since guess what the musical is.

You’re auditioning as a joke, okay? You love Frozen, but this is a Fukurōdani Academy level play.

You didn’t expect to land the role of Olaf.

Your director sat you down and bluntly told you that he thought that you had the charisma and energy to be Olaf, but he knew that you were auditioning for a joke.

He needed you to be committed.

And hell yeah, you were gonna be committed.

At first, Bokuto was super proud of you! His s/o as a lead role? So impressive!

You even taught Bokuto your choreography for “In Summer”

He only retained half of it, but eh.

He’s a volleyball player. He tried.

As rehearsal times became longer and longer, Bokuto was a little upset at himself because he didn’t realize how committed you were until it hit him in the face.

Akaashi is there to get him out of his funk when you aren’t, though.

“They feel the same way when you need to be in the gym longer. It’s just a part of having a passion. Just utilize your time with them wisely.”

This bitch knows full well Bokuto doesn’t do ‘wise’ though, so he also sets to him a little more.

Dress rehearsals start, and Bokuto is always waiting for you to come out of the auditorium to ride the bus home.

You’re just bubbling over with stories about the magic of being on stage.

The lights, the microphones, the costumes, just talking about it makes you nostalgic already.

On opening night, Bokuto and Akaashi are there in the front row, going through the program.

“There’s y/n!!!!”

And you can’t see him because of the blinding spotlight, but you can hear Bokuto cheering for you after you finish “In Summer”

Afterwards he gives you a big hug, and you guys go home and watch Frozen.

Akaashi Keiji

When you start dating Akaashi in your second year at Fukurōdani, you’ve been on stage for the last ten years of your life.

Singing, acting, dancing, you love it all.

You’re even considering making it your career.

Akaashi doesn’t know much about theater at all, but he makes sure to do his research since it’s such a big part of your life.

The company you take acting classes with is having their winter show soon, and you couldn’t be happier when you figure out it’s ‘Into the Woods.’

Akaashi makes the mistake of asking the plot of the story.

“So basically there are these two infertile bakers with dead parents and there’s this witch that’s old and wrinkly and she comes to their house because fifty years ago the bakers dad stole her veggies and took the magic beans that made her look old and wrinkly-“

(A/n: this isn’t even half the plot)

He decides he’ll figure it out when he sees the play.

Akaashi knows that it’s a difficult one, though.

Sondheim doesn’t fuck around.

So you shouldn’t be beating yourself up about cracking on some of the high notes and screaming into your pillow.

He feels like an idiot every time you ask him to give you constructive criticism.

He doesn’t know what to say. “That was good” is obviously not what you want to hear.

When the date of your audition rolls around, he has early morning practice.

So he sends you a text saying how far you’ve come already and he’ll be proud even if you end up being a tree and break a leg (he’s very proud of that part. Theater lingo with Akaashi 101)

He’s very pleased to hear through your extremely fast and animated chattering that you killed it.

You were going to be Jack from “Jack and the Beanstalk.”

He’s still not sure how that correlates with infertile bakers, but he’ll go with it.

You also have a notoriously hard solo, “Giants in the sky.”

Akaashi is very impressed.

All you two do is practice that song, until Akaashi is half sure he could sing the song if he really gave an effort.

(He tries seriously one time. He can’t sing. To save his life. Sorry Keiji and RIP y/n’s ears.)

“Maybe you’re just not a soprano?”

“I’ll leave the limelight to you.”

Rehearsals always leave you drained. There are so many dance numbers in the play that you have to go over.

And songs, oh god, the songs are pieces of work.

But you wouldn’t trade it for the world, so Keiji stays close, and is endlessly supportive.

You sent him a picture of your Jack costume, and Keiji is like that is kind of adorable ngl-

He walks into the auditorium you’re performing in, and even he’s nervous to be in there. It’s huge.

But when you walk on the stage, and start belting, all the breath leaves his lungs.

Oh. Ohhhhhhh. He understands the plot now.

#kuroo #haikyuu headcannons #tsukishima #akaashi #bokuto #kuroo x reader #tsukishima x reader #akaashi x reader #bokuto x reader #kuroo headcanons #tsukishima headcanons #akaashi headcanons #bokuto headcannons #haikyuu

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jadoue1999 · 3 years

Text

The X-Men and the member they lost - Chapter 7

Summary: The X-Men are finally back home, but there is much to talk about and a long road to go before everything goes back to normal. If they ever do.

Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8,

Chapter 7: Grief and bonding

The X-men stared at the speedster in stunned silence as he stopped in front of them. Wanda was avoiding their gaze, obviously ashamed. She spoke with Charles, the telepath trying to see if she would be a good fit at the school.

“I want you to understand, Ms. Maximoff, that the last time we spoke you seemed very keen on keeping your world. While I understand why you did it, I expect you to find a better way to cope than… this.” He said, motioning to the town around them.

The woman nodded. “Yes, you’re right. It never should have come to this.” She quickly glanced at Peter with glassy eyes, “for what it’s worth, I never meant to bring him here. I was just so sad that my boys would never meet their uncle… I suppose my powers acted without me realizing.”

The wheelchair bound man slowly nodded his head in understatement before agreeing that it was better that she’d go with them. Erik had to agree. He might not have been thrilled about having his son’s captor living with them, but with this world and the lack of mutants; it was certain her future would be bleak. Government officials were already coming in, just waiting for an opening to take the woman away. Being stuck in isolation, unable to use their powers other than the occasional scientists’ visits was something he wished on no one. Plus, he could see how much Peter wanted her by his side. He’d tolerate her presence, for his son.

They marched through the portal, this time it was a lot faster and easier on the mind. Erik felt slightly nauseous, but it went away quickly. He noticed with a smirk how amazed Charles had been at the ease Wanda created an interdimensional portal. The school was overjoyed at seeing everyone back in one piece. The students flocked Peter with greetings and questions. Though it was the professor who took most of the questions. The speedster was apparently still a little confused about what had happened. The students were all wondering who Wanda was. The group settled on saying that she was a powerful mutant who had accidentally lost her way. Erik could see that the professor didn’t want to scare anyone.

Jean, Scott and Ororo suddenly ran to Peter and squeezed him in their arms. They were all laughing in relief, telling him how glad they were to have him back. Peter was... uncharacteristically quiet. He who was always babbling could barely keep up with all the attention. Erik could see him starting to fidget and anxiously looking around. Finally, the crowd of people seemed to be satisfied with the few answers they got and started to leave the group alone. Charles took the other members of the X-men with him, probably to fill them in on what had happened. Wanda stayed by herself, looking disoriented as ever. Hank offered to give her a tour, which she accepted after sharing an anxious glance with Peter. Soon enough, they were gone, leaving father and son together. The metal bender walked over and gently put a hand on his shoulder. He could see how nervous he was. “Hey, are you okay?” The speedster looked at him and nodded, “oh, yeah... just tired. It’s been a while.” Right. He had been in a small town living with four other people for who knows how long. Of course, coming back to a manor full of overexcited children would be overwhelming. “How long was it? For you?” He seemed lost in thoughts for a few seconds before he shook his head. “I’m not exactly sure. I’d say a few days, but it felt longer than that.”

They walked together to an empty room, where they could talk in peace. The sun was just setting, bathing the room in a soft glow. They sat opposite of one another, neither of them talking for nearly a minute.

“So… you’re my dad,” finally spoke up Peter. He chuckled to himself, “you know, I imagined this conversation a thousand time and yet I have no idea what to say right now.”

“Well, I know,” he smiled at his son, “thank you for releasing me from the Pentagon.”

Peter seemed a bit flustered at the sudden recognition, but a wide grin soon adorned his face. “Ah, it was nothing. Ask Charles or Hank, I literally did it for fun.”

Erik smirked in amusement; the speedster really was something. He wasn’t sure what he could tell him. It was no doubt his mother told him about their lineage, so she probably told him how they met. He probably knew most of his life story whereas he didn’t know much about him.

“Tell me about you?” he asked him. “I’ve missed so much of your life; I’d like to know you properly.”

Peter hummed, probably trying to decide what to say. “Uh… What do you know? Just so I have a starting point.”

“Well, thanks to Charles, I know that your real name is Pietro, and that you had a twin, but I don’t know much else.” He knew, of course about the Pentagon break and about En Sabah Nur, but he had left the mansion too quickly to learn anything else about him.

The speedster seemed taken aback by the mention of his true name, but quickly masked his surprise with an awkward grin. “Right… well first off, I don’t really use Pietro. It’s, uh, it’s what Wendy used to call me. She never really accepted to call me Peter other than in public and she’s, uh, she’s been gone for awhile, and I try to not think about it so much. So, I hope you don’t get too offended. I mean, that’s why I never mentioned it to anyone else before, cause I prefer Peter anyway; I’m trying to keep that part of my past in the past and-“

“It’s alright,” said Erik, interrupting his rambling. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll use Peter.”

That seemed to satisfy the young man, who visibly relaxed in his chair before changing the subject. “Thanks. Anyway, I didn’t really do much, just a year ago I still lived in my mother’s basement and stole anything I wanted.” He looked around him before grinning. “You know, the explosion that destroyed the mansion?” Erik nodded, him and Jean had taken quite a few days the rebuild the whole thing. They had both needed a few days of recovery after using their powers for such an extensive and detailed task. “Well, I’m the one that saved everyone from the explosion. They were all saved without any whiplash.“ His face suddenly darkened, “except for Scott’s brother. He was already vaporized by the time I got inside.”

The speedster continued his rambling for a few minutes, Erik nodding along and trying to keep up. He was glad that Peter was finally back to himself. The conversation turned to what had happened in Westview and he simply had to ask.

“Charles told me your mutation gave you protection against telepath.”

“Sure does!” he answered, knocking on his head twice with a smug grin. “No telepath goin’ in there any time soon. My thoughts are sealed.”

He might not have known much about his son, but he was well aware that he was trying to deflect the subject. “Yes… well I wanted to ask because we never got a real explanation. How did you end up with the necklace? How did it even work on you?”

Peter’s fingers unconsciously brushed against his neck as his eyes became distant. “Agnes… she, uh, she had this freaky book that told her how to deal with people like me. She said there had to be a physical object with the spell, so it could keep up with me.”

Erik hummed as he put his hands under his chin, it was a start, but there had to be more. “She didn’t do anything else?”

“Well, the spell was painful. It’s hard to explain, but I was trapped in my worst memories until it found an opening and it could take control of me. Definitely not something I’d recommend.”

Peter kept fidgeting as he recalled the events, so Erik decided to stop asking about it. Perhaps a happier subject would help. “Tell me about the twins, they seemed nice.”

A smile grew on Peter’s lips and Erik knew that he had hit the right spot. The speedster started talking about how amazing they were and how much fun they’d had. He gleamed as he recalled helping the younger speedster with video games and how he had teased them about stealing all their candies. And while he now felt bad about it, the teamwork they had done to deal with Kurt and Raven was something he felt particularly proud about; going as far as to refer to them as ‘mini X-Men in training’. That made them both smiles.

They talked for a very long time; the clock was nearing midnight. Erik could see his son starting to doze off and he let him sleep while he went to grab a book. He hadn’t been in Wanda’s world for long and he himself felt drained, he couldn’t imagine how tired his son must have been. He had been reading for about twenty minutes when a sudden gush of air made him look up to the now empty chair. He heard movements in the kitchen and decided to join him on his midnight snack. Peter was reaching into multiple cupboards, fixing himself what looked to be sugary cereals and various other things. With the quantity of food, he was taking out, he must have been very hungry.

“Are you alright?” Erik asked as the silver blur kept going around the kitchen.

“Sure am!” he answered, not looking at him. “Just needed a quick meal, I did that all the time when I was with Wanda.” He opened the doors to where the various dishes were and turned his head slightly to the side. “Now boys, what I’m about to show you is the ultimate combo-“ The speedster stopped himself before he could finish his sentence. He slowly turned to Erik with pained eyes and looked around.

“Peter?”

His son seemed like a shell of himself as he ever so slowly put down what he was holding. His eyes scanned the counter that held too much food, even for him, before he looked back at the man with teary eyes. “I, uh, I have to go.”

Before he could protest, Erik was alone in the kitchen. The food was back to where it had been, but the speedster hadn’t touched the dishes he had just taken out. The metal bender sighed as he realized his son had taken out 3 bowls. There would certainly be a long road ahead before Peter could heal from his grief.

***

Peter was glad to be back, he truly was.

He got his team back, his mind back and his father knew about him and accepted him even with his rotten luck concerning family. Nothing had felt better than having his friends jumping on him and telling him how glad they were to have him back between two laughs. Then the overdue discussion he had with his dad had been great. He really couldn’t ask for a better ending. However, his life in Westview had been so unique, so unlike anything he’d ever known before. There wasn’t the fear of being discovered because Wanda had made sure that they could use their powers without people staring. And there was no constant threat, save from Agnes, but they didn’t know at the time. Most of all, he felt complete. The overwhelming grief he had felt ever since Wendy had died wasn’t present because his twin was with him. She had never left in the first place. And he not only had his sister with him, but she was also married. Sure, her choice of husband was strange but who was he to judge? Vision had been pleasant company, even though they hadn’t talked much.

Then... then there were the boys. He had never thought himself as parental figure material. Hell, he was older than most student, but could still fit in better than most. He wasn’t exactly the most mature person. Still, he never thought he’d be a good role model. Then, he got into Wanda’s freaky tv show where he was the cool uncle that messed around with his nephews. He could play with them and do all the mischief his heart desired. He loved them and they loved him. Nothing felt as freeing as running through the crowd at Halloween, stealing candies, smashing pumpkins, and covering everyone in silly string. Then, the twins developed powers. The joy he felt when he saw Tommy suddenly breaking into superspeed mode made every happy moment in his life seem bleak.

He and Wendy had grown up thinking they were unique, anomalies even. Then, she had died, and Peter thought he was alone. Until Charles, Hank and the claw guy had found him and asked him break out his father. He was happy to find that he wasn’t the only one with powers, he simply wished Wendy could have known as well. Then he moved to the mansion, where there were so many mutants. He felt at home. Yet, he never really was able to make connections with anyone, their world was simply too slow for him. But that wasn’t the case with Tommy. The twin was able to keep up with him and see the world at his pace. When they played games, he didn’t have to go agonizingly slow to give him time to react. When they wanted to go somewhere, they just went there while having a conversation, the child wasn’t frozen or in need to be moved. He just kept up with him. Peter, or Pietro as he had called himself, had loved taking out the soldiers with him, telling him what to do and working with Tommy like he had never done before. Him, Wanda, Vision, and the twins. They had been an unstoppable team and he truly believed that they would be together forever. Until they weren’t. He still remembered the panic he felt when the boys had started to fall apart as Wanda was freeing everyone. His mind had been jumping between his chill persona and the real him breaking through. It wasn’t fun.

He had meant to have a better talk with Wanda, but life at the mansion was always busy. Well, that and the fact that they didn’t really speak when they found themselves together. They felt contempt just sitting in silence and watching a movie together. It was clear neither of them was ready to speak about what they had lost. There was the occasional reference to something Vision or the twins would have liked, but even that was too much sometimes. Instead, they got to know each other. Wanda had been shocked when he told her that his real name was Pietro, and he could just tell that she saw her true brother for a second. One big difference between him and Wanda was that he had lost Wendy at 16, while she had lost her Pietro at 26. Peter hadn’t exactly dealt with her death, but he had learned to cope with the pain. Wanda only had a few years, and the wound was still pretty fresh.

One night a few weeks after they came back, Wanda had suddenly stopped the movie and turned to him. “What did Agatha do to you? When you went for repairs?”

Peter was confused for a second before concluding that the witch had probably used a fake name when she came in the town. “Not much to be honest. She did some freaky magic to suspend me in the air and basically blackmailed me.” He looked at her with a frown. “But you knew that. What did she to do you to make you so worried about me?”

The redhead squeezed the hot cocoa mug she was holding. “She made me revisit everything that made me create Westview. My parent’s death, my brother’s death, Hydra’s experimentation, and my encounter with Vision’s body. And we revisited the night I woke you up and…” She didn’t complete her sentence. Wanda was staring off in the distance as she recalled the intervention. “She threatened to hurt you and the boys if I didn’t cooperate. I also feared she might have done a similar thing to you.”

Peter thought back at the dreaded moment the witch had threatened his nephews and the confusion he felt when she spoke about why she menaced them and not him. “Nah, apparently your magic protected me, so she couldn’t really do anything. The rugrats were the real targets.”

Wanda pressed her lips together in a sad smile and nodded. They both stayed silent for a few seconds before she broke the silence. “I miss them.” Peter turned to the redhead; her eyes were fixed to the liquid in her mug. “Vision and the boys, I still have days where I think they’ll just… be there, you know? I imagine that Tommy and Billy are with you and Vision is about to cross the door and wish me a good morning.”

The speedster agreed with her statement, it was hard to keep going in a school full of mutant children without his mind trying to catch a glimpse of his nephews that never really existed in the first place.

“You know,” he started with a smile. “I had never met another person with superspeed before Tommy. Felt nice to not be alone, even for a moment.” His grin faded as he stared at his hands, a burning question on his lips. “If you could, would you go back to Westview?”

She closed her eyes in concentration, momentarily lost in thoughts. She shook her head as she turned to him. “In retrospect, no.” she sighed, “but if I could see them again, without hurting anyone, I would.”

Peter hummed at her answer, he could see the logic in her thinking, of course, but he wasn’t sure he could resist the temptation. Even if it hurt people. Good thing he wasn’t the one that got reality bending powers. She continued the movie once more and they absently watched as they thoughts were consumed by memories of their long gone family.

***

Notes: Thanks for reading!

Next chapter: One of Wanda’s spell takes an unexpected turn!

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