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#but with less coughing until now bc im laying down)

ugotcooneycrossed · 10 months

Note

Blurb Idea for Alessia - where she’s sick and denying it, until she gets home with you and just breaks down bc of how unwell she feels

a/n: here you go loml😌 sorry it took so long 😭😭

alessia is adamant that you two go out on a date night- even though you know she's sick. you haven't had time alone in so long and she wants to make the most of it.

even when she's coughing every three seconds, she's sweating slightly, and she's lightheaded, you hear her sniffle when she's not coughing, and when you're cuddling on the couch- you can feel just how warm she really is. you brush her slightly sweaty, matted hair from her face and press a kiss to her flushed cheeks.

"lessi baby, why don't we just stay in? it's totally fine with me. you're obviously not okay honey."

she turns to you- and pouts.

"no! im fine- we have to go out! we haven't had a date in so long- im totally fine."

"lessi baby- c'mon you're not fine."

"i am! come on, let's go."

she's adamant- grabbing your hand and dragging you off and out the door.

she shoves her keys into your chest.

"here you drive."

now you know for a fact that she's definitely not okay- she never lets you drive her merc.

"... you're sure?"

"mmh."

"lessi. you want me- me to drive your merc."

"yeah- just need to rest my eyes."

"we could just stay in?"

"no- just drive."

she gets in the passenger side and shuts the door- head resting on the cold window almost immediately.

even throughout dinner- alessia is shuffling around in her seat, she drinks two cups of water before pushing her barely eaten food away and asking for a takeout box.

and when youre walking to the car- alessia is holding onto you, half her body weight on you.

"you okay baby?"

you press a kiss to her forehead and she just hums.

"yeah- just need a lay down."

you walk into the apartment first- you hear the door click as alessia locks up, you're still turned away from her, taking your jacket off and rambling to her.

"i told you we should've stayed in- we went all the way there for you to basically drink water less and-"

you turn around when you hear her sniffle, she's standing in the kitchen- eyes welled with tears and lips trembling.

"i am sick. and- and i feel awful!"

you run to her- bringing her into your arms and carrying her to bed.

"im sorry (y/n)."

alessia is still crying- rubbing her face into your neck and tugging you closer to her.

"it's okay, it's alright darling- i got you, i'll take care of you. just try sleep okay? im right next to you- promise."

#alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine

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germvity · 3 years

Text

RISES THE MOON

leon s kennedy x reader // 5 // blue blood

the officer sighs, keeping you close as he slowly starts to settle himself. eventually, leon falls asleep himself, rolling over with you so you were between him and the wall of the shack. you mumble incoherently at the movement, eyelids fluttering as you stir. yet, leon's deep breathing and soothing heartbeat makes you fall asleep once more.

genre: angst with fluff

tags: nemesis 👺, he's stinky, david being a bully 2.0, leon being a sweetheart, he cares, jill being a good friend <3, might rewrite this chapter maybe bc i just know im gonna skip a few paragraphs to get this out a bit earlier :(

warnings: bullying, hitting/beatings, crying, confession swerves, mild heartbreak bc i hate myself </3

tag list <3

@trinswhimsys , @hex-touchstarved (ily mutual <3)

---

you woke up with a harsh headache and no recollection of what happened the night before, tears stinging your eyes as you crouch down to work on the dirty generator in front of you. the wires singed your fingertips, and you hiss, pulling away right as the generator let out a skull splitting bang. your head ached as your heartbeat picked up, and you darted from the machine and into the gas station with nemesis now hot on your tail. "fuck.." you whine, just your luck that he would be on you first. you throw down a pallet with urgency, gasping as his tentacle slashes a deep infection into you. you splutter, blue blood oozing down your body as you cough into your arm. vaulting the window was easy, but unfortunately the killer's appendage is much longer than you thought as it whips your back, leaving behind a nasty gash.

fortunately, a pallet was nestled between two cars and you ran for it, managing to stun the greedy monster before scrambling to safety. "fuck.." you whine, coughing up some blue sludge as you quickly hide in your surroundings. the nemesis walks past you angrily, storming away and leaving you for a moments peace. you spot a white box's aura nearby, and it beckoned you over the the feeling of safety. you round the corner and see it sat there, and crouch down to snap the flimsy lock. you raise the vial carefully out of the foam in the case, sighing in relief before a rough hand snatches the scruff of your shirt. you yelp in surprise as david throws you to the ground, the vaccine rolls away from you and you reach for it. "you fucker! i never lose a fight!" david roars, kicking your stomach firmly. you cry out in pain, curling up into a tight ball to try and avoid david hitting any vulnerable spots. "i hate you! i hate you so much..!" the fighter continues, but now crouches down to pull you from your protective position. he punches you roughly and you wail in pain as blood bursts from your nose.

"leon!" you scream, hoping he was in this trial to help you. "leon! help me!" you cry out again, and david's cruel laughter finds your ears. "that pretty boy isn't here." he grins, giving you another punch before a pair of hands grab him. "what the-?!" the zombie cuts him off, teeth piercing david's neck as he screams in agony. the fighter scrambles away, and the zombie ignores you to follow him. "hello? i heard screaming." a new voice intrudes, and jill peaks around the corner. "jesus- what happened?" she rushes over to you as you reach for her weakly. "david... he's so mean." you cry, letting her pull you close as she hugs you tightly. "come on, let's get you somewhere safe." she offers a sad smile, pulling you up carefully.

jill patches you up firmly and cured you, she let you follow her around for the trial, pointing out totems and chests for you to work on whilst she pumped out gens. ash gave your hair an affectionate ruffle in passing, but he was always more of a lone wolf, so he left quickly to distract nemesis. the rest of the trial went bad quickly. david was mori'd, ash died on hook and jill was gravely injured as well as dead on hook by the time the last generator was powered up.

with noed rampant in the end, and the gates blocked by the entity, you and jill stayed hidden behind a pile of crushed cars as the nemesis patrolled the gates carefully. "fuck... what are we gonna do?" you whimper, looking at jill. "i have an idea. i saw hatch earlier, we can find a key." jill gives you a smile, "but all the chests are open?" you remind her, and she shrugs. "no matter, elodie taught me how to look thoroughly." she pulls you along, and you have no choice but to follow. the chest you two found had a broken key in it, and jill tossed it away to start rummaging. "aha!" she beams, tossing a skeleton key into the air and catching it as she offers you her other hand. "c'mon, let's get out of here." she says, and you take her hand.

the two of you run past the undead, past nemesis who caught wind of your scratch marks and started following, stopping at the hatch. jill leans down, unlocking the door quickly as you turn to see nemesis approaching way too quick for your liking. "c'mon, move it!" she yells, pushing you down into the void and jumping in after you. the trap door slams shut, cutting off any light as the two of you fall into the thick smoke.

you regenerate abruptly, catching yourself but still falling when jill is thrown onto you. she wraps her arms around her waist and steadies the two of you quickly, mumbling an apology as she lets go of you. "it's okay.." you reply, letting her lead you to your shack. "leon's probably waiting, c'mon." jill yawns, spotting the blonde who was indeed waiting at your door. his eyes scan the tree line, searching for you. "leon!" you call, and his eyes brighten at the sight of you and jill. "y/n! are you okay?" he runs over to meet you half way, letting you hug him tightly. "be careful, they've had a rough trial." jill says sternly, and leon nods. "thanks for looking after them, jill." he smiles, and jill nods before walking away.

"come on then, let's get you rested." leon says, but freezes when he sees the bruises on your face, "oh, what happened?" he cups your face carefully, analysing you for any signs of a concussion. "david got me... he's really mad." you sigh, melting into his touch. "that fucker... he'll get what's coming to him." leon growls, pulling you into a tight and safe hug. "can we go inside?" you ask quietly, and he nods. "of course, c'mon."

you feel safe with leon, and relax more as you enter your practically shared home. leon turns away as he lets you get changed into some more comfy and cleaner clothes, taking off his bullet proof vest and putting it in its usual spot against the wall. you flop down on your bed with a huff, the blanket feels so welcoming as leon sits next to you. you rest your head on his thigh, letting him gently stroke your cheek as you close your eyes. "you feel any better?" he asks softly, and you nod. "good. just relax, yeah?" leon smiles, leaning back against your wall as he gets comfy.

you move from his lap and smile at him. "lay down with me?" you ask, and leon chuckles. "sure." he says, joining you and letting you cuddle into him. "leon?" you mumble softly, resting your head on his chest. "yeah?" he responds immediately, rubbing your back. "thank you for doing this for me... i don't deserve you." you smile sadly and leon huffs. "don't say that. you deserve the world." the blonde says firmly, moving so you would look at him. "i like you a lot, y/n." he admits yet you just smile. "i like you too." you reply, and leon's heart tightens as he realises you're unaware of his meaning. "i like you, so much more than i should.." he whispers and you process his words.

"wait... like that or am i reading into this too much..?" you ask sheepishly and leon nods, "like that." he confirms and you look away to think. "y/n..?" he whispers, desperate for any response. "i'm sorry... i can't... i don't wanna lose you or get hurt." you reply, voice also just above a whisper. "that's fine." leon smiles to hide the pain he felt. "i'm sorry..." you say again, holding him close. "it's alright, i don't mind." leon lies, his heart burning with sorrow. "just get some sleep, y/n." he says, holding you as if you would melt away if you let go.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, hands rubbing his back. "yeah, i'm completely fine." leon replies, ignoring the strain in his voice. "no you're not... i'm so sorry..." you whisper, feeling your own tears starting to well up. "don't cry, it's fine." leon smiles, wiping your face for you. "i'm so sorry, leon.. i just don't want to get hurt." you say, nestling your head into his neck. "i know, i know.. let's change the subject now until you fall asleep." he sighs.

soon enough the two of you are talking again, and leon almost forgets the rejection until you doze off. "as long as you're okay..." he whispers to himself as he brushes fallen hair from your face. "i couldn't care less about my own feelings." he smiles, tears stinging his eyes as he pulls you into his chest.

#dbd leon #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #dead by daylight resident evil #dead by daylight #germvity writing

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ilysmxiao · 3 years

Text

your title is gone now, childe. | childe x reader

ok this is rlly shitty bc ive nvr written for childe before. the reason why i did was bc there was a yt vid (which the link is here) and a lot of ppl were writing ab it,, so i decided to join in on it and my friend rlly liked it lol. so im posting this here . this is super shitty tho, cus i rushed it. childe is probably occ so b warned. anyways i might start writing genshin fics, so yea. pls pls pls check the warnings bc this is triggering,, gn prns used !! i wrote this listening to i bet on losing dogs on repeat lmao summary : the love of your life remains as your enemy, even as you both grow closer and share memories you would never share with another person. although you truly loved him, he had what you didn’t. in our lives, we do what we can to achieve what we want, even if it ruins what we already had. we must pay the price if we sought to get what we wish. warnings : character death, gore/blood, knife stuff, possible manipulation?? jus overall sad shit. please dont read this if ur triggered by those things !!

at first, it had felt like a game - a childish one, in which both had fought for the title they held so dear. a number was just so in many eyes, but in their own, it held much more meaning. to be a harbringer, you must prove your strength. to achieve such title, it wasn't considered dirty to cheat, as it all was just part of the game. as time went on, though, it all had lost it's meaning, though one continued to fight - whether that was to prove he earned his title, and did not want to lose the superiority that it granted him, or for other selfish reasonings that even his inner thoughts refused to accept. due to his own lack of true understanding of the powers others held to make himself seem all the greater, childe went into the war blindly; yet, at the same time, too aware, so much so that his concentration on his weak spots created a new one entirely that was left open. it was not paranoia that put him in this spot, but his own selfish reasons he had yet to entirely understand. a cough escaped the males lips, blood dripping down from the corner of his mouth. it was then, did he realize he underestimated his lovers strength, their willpower, and the lack of true love they held for them. even with a knife against their neck, they would not back down, and it was far too late to realize such. whether [y/n] truly loved him or not, whether they used him for the title that granted them so much power in liyue, he could not tell if what angered him was the lies he had been given or the very fact he so gradually fell straight into them. in the end, all that mattered was who won, but he was unsure if the battle he sought was one he truly wished for. although he was a merciless harbringer, one with no care for the likes of someone like [y/n], he still had a right to love. not only so, but at the end of the day, [y/n] promised him that if all else corroded around the two, they would always be there. childe refused to listen to the soft spoken echoes of the loving words [y/n] used to tell him. he refused to watch the sweet memories of the two playing with teucer, bringing back the toys [y/n] taught him how to make for the pure fact that the poor kid would not find out the truth - or when they would lay in bed together, speaking of the many stories they had experienced in their lifetimes that made them who they were now. but when all is said and done, what all of that was true? did any of it mean anything, if the ones people truly loved hurt them in a way that was unforgivable? when they took away the one thing that meant so much to them? when all is taken, what do they become; what happens then? "oh, oh, my little baby," his lovers lips cooed, their hand softly grazing the others chin. "what have you become?" a soldier that blindly ran into war, fighting against a force he could never put his finger on. the title of a harbringer was an important one, though, how important it was to another was never going to be the same as the other. childe lacked to realize such, stuck in a bubble of his own selfishness and his love for the other - he never cared to realize how much it might have meant to the other. he never sought to realize the power that being even related to one it gave them, or the trip that it would put them on. childes eyes gazed up at his lover, soon shooting away to the empty space beside them. upon looking into those blue eyes of his, one could see the color began to dull and the ambitions he once held began to fade. "i should have been more cautious of you, i would have never expected you to be the one to steal this from me." although he said it in a tone that could show the way he laughed at his own faults, [y/n] knew very well that he had officially been stripped of what power he had held. "you underestimate me, childe. did the acts of other teach you nothing? even the ones you love betray you, a war can not have two winners." a small, hoarse chuckle left his lips; a burning sensation growing in his abdomen. the blood continued to poor out of his side, in which, caught his attention - his eyes glanced at the wound at his side, then back at his lover. he knew his time was up, as the thoughts of his loved ones and the risks he had managed to pull through with scattered his mind - was it worth it, leaving his loved ones behind, his younger brother who had meant as much to him as he did to teucer, in the end? "i hope that..," [y/n] paused for a moment, a small sigh leaving their lips. "in the next life, we meet again, and that you are sure not to let your guard down." the gaze that casted upon childes body soon wavered, turning into almost a sad one, perhaps even a disappointed one - in that moment, when their gaze met each others, they both realized what this both costed them both. it was clear that [y/n] still loved him, and always have loved him, and that was the breaking point for the both of them. one refused to show it, the other was uncaring of what he had let the other see. what is left after life is what truly matters, and although you may not like how it ended, at least something stuck with you until the end. right? "i-i'd like to believe that, [y/n]," childe muttered shakily, his brows very slightly furrowing. "you truly can not trust those closest to you." although the males lover already knew what they had done, what it had costed them - the one person he had chosen to love, the last words to leave childes lips was what had made him fully understand what he had done and the pain was one he knew that he never truly would be able to get away from. "well, we will see, won't we?" there was a pause, silence soon flooding the air. childe knew his time was coming, he accepted it, and it nearly mortified him to know things had to end the way it was going to. "y-yeah, we will.," few words left childes lips, and another blade plunged into his stomach. another groan left his lips, his face coiling slightly in pain. if you were to look hard enough, you could almost see the tears that soon began to prick the males eyes. "i love you, ajax." soon, [y/n] wrapped their body against their dying lover, and childe attempted to do the same. "i-i.., love.. you, too." those were the final words that childe spoke, his body soon going limp in his lovers arms. the words he spoke still lingered, echoing in the bristling sounds of leaves swaying in the wind - nothing more, nothing less. to become a harbinger, there were no rules - you just had to prove you were worthy of such a title, no matter what it costed, no matter how you cheated the rest. life does not come with special privilege's, no one will let you surpass them willingly, you have to fool them into believing you cant, and only then will you be able to reach what you sought for.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #childe #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #childe angst #pls b warned reading this #ANGST #genshin angst yummy

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hansoulo · 4 years

Text

thread count

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Reader (gender neutral, no Y/N)

Warnings: liek… cursing? mentions of nightmares. bed sharing. the works.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: posting this at noon bc im tired of staring at it in my drafts 🤡also i recognize that star wars decided glass is called transparisteel but given that it’s a stupid ass decision i’ve elected to ignore it. enjoyyyyy :)

“No.”

“Mando-”

“No.”

You let out a frustrated groan, your rucksack dropping to the floor with a heavy thud as you flopped back onto the bed. The one, single bed.

“It’s too late to go anywhere else, alright? We’re basically stuck here. Let’s just make the best of it, okay?” He grunted at this, still standing at the doorway gripping his disintegrator rifle. “Drop the ‘tude, tin can. Could be worse,” you mumbled as you reached to wipe a hand over your face, sinking into the soft sheets.

It was kinda nice, actually. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept on a real mattress, with real pillows and blankets that didn’t feel like sandpaper. The inn owner was sweet, a wizened old woman who’d only smiled when you asked if there were any rooms available. Just the one, she had said. Down the hall.

This was ridiculous.

The Mandalorian stepped forward, closing the door with a large hand on the rusted knob. The room was small and sparsely furnished, but it was a far cry from your usual, less than ideal sleeping arrangements, so you relished in the feeling of the pillows beneath your back before propping yourself up on one elbow, eyelids already drooping as you watched him. He looked… awkward. If you had any more energy, you’d probably laugh. “I could- ” he cleared his throat, setting the rifle against the wall, “I could sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoffed as you reached down to pull off your boots, throwing them haphazardly into a corner. You’d helped him with the occasional bounty for years, and known him for longer than that. You could share a fucking bed. Besides, it’s not like anyone else was around to see. Minus the baby of course, but it (he? she?) didn’t really count, right? It was already sleeping. “It’ll be fine.”

“No, I’m going to just-”

“Mando,” you glared, standing up. “If you sleep on the floor, you’re gonna be even more of an ass tomorrow morning. Just do us all a favor,” you waved a hand towards the baby in its pod, “and get over yourself, alright?” You reached down to the hem of your top, tugging it above your head before you heard him make a low, distorted sound - probably a cough, but the modulator made those kinds of things hard to tell. Left in your undershirt, you crouched down to stuff the fabric - dusty and soiled from a day of travel - back in your bag. “What?”

He shifted on his feet, his helmet ducking slightly at the sight of your exposed skin. “Oh c’mon,” you groaned, your expression teasing. “You stabbed a guy with a serving fork yesterday, Mando. I don’t think this could be any worse.” If you could see underneath his helmet, you’d be willing to bet he was blushing. Funny, how that worked. How he worked.

The bedsprings creaked underneath your weight as you laid down again, pulling the blankets out from their tucked corners. The window on the other side of the room lay open, bringing in a chill that had you drawing the covers tighter around your shoulders. “Could you close the window?” you whispered, tracking the glint of beskar through half-closed eyes as he complied with your request. His armor reflected orange light - dim and flickering from a small lamp hung beside the door - before it was snuffed out by a gloved hand. You let out a quiet thanks, not bothering to fight the exhaustion dragging at your mind as he stood above you. “I’m going to sleep,” you mumbled, turning on your side to face the wall. “Do what you want.”

⫸ ——-– ⫷

Flat, white light crackled across your vision and you opened your eyes with a groan. You could hear rain beating against the windowpane, glass rattling with every new roar of thunder in a way that had goosebumps erupting across your arms. It was dark outside, inky and fogged over save for the few flashes of lightning that cast the room in sharp relief. You didn’t really mind the storm - you usually liked them - but something about the way it sounded had you on edge. It was a bitter kind of rain, unrelenting and loud and really, really cold. Bracing yourself on your hands, you lifted your head, only to knock it against the edge of something metal. “Ow what the fu-” Oh. Oh.

He hadn’t been next to you before - no, you would’ve remembered if he had - but now... now he was. Next to you. And he… had a hand on your hip and- and you were still facing away from him but you squirmed, feeling the weight of his arm on your waist, heavy and slack. No gloves. No vambrace. No pauldron. Just… the helmet. No shit, bantha-brains. The Mandalorian let out a breath, the sound low and seeping syrup in your bones. Was he still asleep? Maybe you should- “Stop moving,” he rasped, his voice hoarse.

“Sorry,” you whispered, your words thick with sleep. “M’just cold.” It was a half-truth. You were cold, but the fact that you were pressed up against one of the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy probably didn’t help either. Neither did the fingers digging into your hip. Or the arm tucked underneath your neck. Or the hand attached to said arm that was skimming across your collarbone, seemingly unaware that it was touching anything at all. He drew you in closer and you could feel his legs slotted into yours, your toes brushing the bare skin of an ankle (that didn’t belong to you) before your scattered thoughts were forced elsewhere.

“Then why’d you take off your shirt?” he mumbled. The rain pounded a rhythm in your head, lulling you down and allowing yourself to sink back into his arms. You didn’t really want to think about tomorrow morning. If things would be weird. There was a chance neither of you would remember this when you woke up, though, so it’s not like it mattered. Even if you did - if he did - you knew it was all business.

“Hm?” you said, tucking your chin and scooting back slightly. Your back met the hard planes of his chest, his skin hot and thrumming even underneath the thick material of his shirt. The man was like a fucking space heater. Ha. Space heater. Funny. You were funny. And tired. And- wait did he ask you something?

“Why take off your shirt if you’re cold?” he repeated. The last word trailed off as a palm moved across the expanse of your stomach, his thumb rubbing circles across the raised seam of your undershirt and burning the skin beneath.

“I wasn’t cold then,” you huffed, reaching a hand over his and guiding it below the thin fabric until it rested still on your sternum. A better version of you, more awake and with more critical thinking skills - with the power of thought in general - would probably kick you for using the Mandalorian like a fucking hot water bottle, but that didn’t really matter. You were cold - and exhausted and laying on a bed that was very, very comfortable - and he was warm. You couldn’t really be expected to take any responsibility for this. “Plus, the shirt was dirty,” you added, only dimly registering how your fingers laced with his, tracing battered, scar-shiny knuckles in your half-sleep. He hummed and leaned forward, the metal of his helmet rounding smooth against your hair.

“You’re thinking too loud,” he said, his breathing falling back into tandem with yours as you felt your eyes fluttering shut. “Go to sleep.”

⫸ ——-– ⫷

“Mando, wake up. Wake up, please.” Your voice was tremulous as you shook his shoulder, stretched over tight with desperation and knocking against the walls of the room. Your plea bounced back hollow, a high, unrelenting tone that made your ears ring. Everything was caving in on itself, crumbling slow and then all at once in a way that had the sweat on your temples icing over. You weren’t a child anymore. You shouldn’t have nightmares. “Please.”

He sat up quickly, a hand bolting out to the blaster tucked underneath his pillow and aiming steady at the enemy that had yet to show itself. “Is someone there?” he asked, graveled over but still frighteningly alert. A light sleeper, you supposed.

You shook your head, wet tracks crackling on your cheeks as you spoke. “No, no one. It’s fine.” He relaxed at this, setting the blaster down at his side. His palms were dry when they came up to your face, slightly calloused but still soft as they traced over the rolling tears.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” you whispered, meeting the dark slit of his visor before ducking your head. “It’s nothing, I-” you sniffed, swallowing the air that was caught in your throat. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Hey,” he called out, hesitant and a bit unsure. “You okay?” You nodded, closing your eyes in an attempt to clear your vision before opening them a few moments later. The Mandalorian only stared, his helmet tilting with a cock of his head.

“Just nightmares,” you said when he remained quiet. “But they aren’t normally this bad.” The remains of a sob fragmented beneath your ribs, bubbling up in a wet cough that burned your throat. His hands came to rest at your back, flat and steady against your spine until your breathing evened. “I’m sorry,” you repeated after a few minutes.

The Mandalorian let out a quiet noise, gruff and a bit pained-sounding. “It’s okay,” he said, his fingertips pressing softly into your shoulder blades. You could only just hear him through the storm outside. “I get them too.”

You faced the beskar, gaze searching for the eyes you knew were looking at you and finding nothing but darkness. It was enough, though. To know he was looking. “You do?”

“Every night.” A beat passed before you hiccuped again, swiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “It’s still late,” the Mandalorian whispered, his hands gentle as they reached around your shoulders. You let him pull the covers over you, feeling his words soak into your back. “Let’s just go to bed.”

permanent: @ah-callie @itzagoodthing @spookypym @opheliaelysia @watsonwise @damndamer0n @amarvelousmandalorian @bunnyart-blog @agirllovespasta @pascalispedro @pascalplease @coffeencontemplation @chelsfic @lesqui @javierpenaspinkshirt @symbiont13 @glowingpena @squidlywiddly87 @1zashreena1 @hiscyarika @lostingoogletranslate @keeper0fthestars @bobafvtt @halfwaythereroyal @starwarsiscooliguess @huliabitch

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #sw fanfiction #the mandalorian oneshot #din djarin oneshot

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ladybugsfanfics · 4 years

Text

The Case of the Blue Sweater | Tom Hiddleston

Pairing: Mob!Tom Hiddleston x cop!reader

Style: one shot

WC: 10.7k

Warnings: crime, alcohol, drinking, implied sexual content (very much so), uhh, theres no blood, also NB: THIS STORY IS INCOMPLETE AND I WONT BE THE ONE TO FINISH IT! (story is also unedited to please dont hate me for any mistakes)

Summary: Hey so I read your Mob!Tom x reader and it got me thinking.. Could you write a Fic where Tom is in the mob but the reader is a cop? And like they’re secretly dating but technically the reader has to make it look like they’re hunting him down but they really aren’t? (If that makes sense) Idk I feel like I just need this in my life rn 😂😂

A/N: i got this ask back in january i think and i jumped on it right away, but at some point tumblr deleted it so i cant tag who asked (and i know this wasnt anonymous bc i remember but i never put it in the doc annoyingly). anyways, i started writing it, got to 10k words and lost motivation and never finished it. i really like the AU but nothing ever really happened.... im so sorry. I hope you enjoy what i have ^_^

A loud ringing paired with the loudest on and off buzzing from your phone vibrating on the nightstand is what pulls you out of your slumber. The sounds screech in your ears and you reach over to stop it, to just slide the button over so that your ears can stop bleeding. However, as you lean out of the arms wrapped around you, their grip strengthens and you’re dragged back into the chest of the man sharing your bed.

“Tom,” you say. A smile plays on your lips, the set of events not unusual for an early morning.

He nuzzles into your hair, places a wet kiss at the base of your neck. “Five minutes,” he mumbles into your skin.

You shake your head slightly, as much as you can with the limited space. “Can I at least turn the sound off?”

His grip slackens, making you able to reach the little way over to turn off the blaring alarm. The silence that comes with is welcome in every way, but the relief isn’t long-lasting when Tom drags you back into his chest, his nose quickly nuzzling back to where it was.

Two seconds is what it takes before he’s pressing kisses to your neck. Rough, slender fingers graze up the side of your body until they reach your neck, where they brush away your hair. With Tom’s easy access, the soft kisses slowly turn into something more, something rougher, and the use of his tongue causes a slight tickle to trail through your body.

“Tom.” You shift a little where you lay, taking away his access as you turn your head. In the shift, the man easily moves to trail kisses up your jaw, and as you whisper his name again, his lips connect with yours.

It’s a hungry kiss. He sucks at your bottom lip and his hand grabs your jaw, holding your head in place. You lean into him, kissing him back with equal fervor, however, you’re quickly dragged out of the bliss, when your phone goes off again.

There is no mistaking the death glare Tom sends the mini-computer. You chuckle slightly and push him off you to reach it. This time, it’s not an alarm, but a phone call.

Your boss’s call ID lights up the screen, and you give Tom a stern look as you press to accept the call. With the phone to your ear, Tom shrugs and moves under the covers. His hands trail down your body, teasing you as his fingers trace up your inner thighs.

“Y/L/N,” you say.

A grunt is heard from the other side first, then, “I need you to come in ASAP.” Your boss’s voice sounds urgent, desperate.

You check the clock. “I’m not supposed to come in in another hour,” you reply. “Is it that important?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t have called you otherwise.” It’s like you can hear him nod and roll his eyes at the same time. “We got a lead in the case.”

“What kind of lead? And which case?”

As your boss answers, you can feel Tom’s tongue on the inside of your thigh. In surprise at the feeling you barely manage to suppress the squeal that works up in your throat, and you miss your boss’s reply. (You don’t miss Tom’s smug laugh from under the duvet, nor how he continues to work his way closer to your clit.)

“Y/L/N?” comes from the other end of the line when you gain back… well, really some of your dignity, but mostly your mind.

“I’m here, sir.” You sigh. “Just something that happened that caught my attention. Cat nearly knocked down something made of glass.”

(You don’t have a cat, why was that the first excuse you could come up with? Your boss doesn’t know that, though, so it’s safe.)

“Didn’t know you had a cat, but that could happen to the best of us.” Your boss clears his throat. “The lead’s pretty good, but can’t say it over the phone so you gotta come in. It’s on the case about the Blue Sweater.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname of the case. One of the major criminals you were trying to take down is often seen wearing blue sweaters, and at a briefing you’d offered it as a code name; who knows who listens in on phone calls―they do seem to have a knack for being one step ahead of you, too.

But you don’t mention that to your boss. “Alright, sir, I’ll be on my way as fast as I can.”

“Make it less than half an hour and we’re good.”

“No problem, sir.”

Your boss is the one to hang up, and as you throw your phone down on the bed, Tom peeks his head up from under the covers. You send him a glare. “You should be happy you didn’t get started whilst I was on the phone.”

Your boyfriend smirks up at you. “Oh, you wouldn’t have liked that?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t like it.”

Tom shrugs. “You got time, right?” Though before you can answer he slides back under the cover, uses his hands to steady your hips and dips his head low. God, if only you had more time.

The moment the elevator door opens and you step out into the crowded office space of the police station, you hear your name being called. You wish you weren’t the head detective on the, currently, biggest case pertaining to crime bosses. Just once you wish you could come to work and not have at least five people at a time want to ask you a question or pepper you with information you already have.

You kind of wish you weren’t the head detective for another reason, too, but that’s a minor detail. Actually, that might be the reason you need to be the head detective; way easier to steer an investigation when you’re leading it.

Nonetheless, you have no choice in which cases you lead or not. And that’s usually the reason why there’s three people cluttering your desk as you sit down. You’re not entirely sure that’s the reason today.

You plop down in your chair and stare up at the talking men in front of you. The three of them notice you quickly (after all, it was them that yelled your name) and the chatter dies out.

“I’m here half an hour early and I would love to know what made me skip my morning shower.” (It would have been morning shower sex, and you are a little very annoyed that you had to skip it.)

Your boss coughs, gaining your attention. “Briefing room. Five minutes.” The man looks slightly uncomfortable, but that’s not a big surprise. You’ve been told many times that you have that kind of face that makes people squirm; just something about you is, apparently, intimidating.

“Okay.”

And he walks away.

“You two doing at my desk then?” you ask your coworkers. The two men are your right and left hand in most cases, but this one especially. You wouldn’t even be half the way you are now if you didn’t have them. (Though how much that says, you’re not sure, because you really have nothing.)

“Well…,” starts Mackie. His hand goes up to scratch his neck. “...really we just naturally gravitate here.”

You squint at him, and divert your gaze to Evans (who you know is a shitty liar). Even though you’re not opening your mouth to say anything and he isn’t looking at you, you can see the big man trying to make himself smaller.

“We were gonna try and see if you’d left a hint to who you’re sleeping with,” he says, and despite the way he doesn’t meet your gaze, he says it so casually you’re actually taken aback.

“Excuse me?” You let out a huff, and shake your head. “My sex life is my sex life. You two” ―you point at both of them― “have no business with it.” You stand up from your chair and shake your head yet again. “And if you really think I’d leave evidence lying around, I gotta figure out how to let you know that’s not something I’d do.”

(And if you had, well, your career would for sure be over. If not worse.)

But with that out of the way, you make your way to the briefing room. Captain Cheadle, your boss, stands at the head of the table. In his hand, he holds a wireless presenter, and a few papers are scattered on the table in front of him. You take your place at the table, and as you do, your phone buzzes to signal a new message.

The captain gives you a shrug and that’s all the permission you need to fish your phone from your pocket and check the text.

[08.38] twh darling, you left something at your flat

[08.38] you you talking about yourself? that doesnt count

[08.39] twh that too but no, you left your keys

[08.39] you you doing anything today??

[08.39] twh you know i am, but i can get them to you

[08.40] you gtg but yes please or there are other solutions…

You let out a slight groan knowing you’ll have to figure out how to get your keys without actually meeting Tom. You can’t meet in public, and there are few places where you can meet without being discovered; there’s a reason you’re always at your apartment and never at his house. (well, you’ve been there once, but that was with work and it doesn’t count.)

Whatever his reply is to the latest text you sent, you don’t get to read (though you do feel the vibration on your thigh). Captain Cheadle has called for your attention, Mackie and Evans having seated themselves in the room as well, and you can’t do anything but pay attention to your boss.

“The tip we got is an inside tip.” The captain steps aside to let the projector show a photo of the biggest crime boss currently in New York City, Tom Hiddleston. As with every other photo he’s in, he’s wearing a fucking blue sweater. “The source is reliable, as we know of their work with Hiddleston, but we’re not sure if the tip is.”

He clicks to another photo, which is of the same man getting into a car. Only, he’s getting into the driver’s seat, something that is unusual for someone that has his own driver. “We can’t know if the tip is true or not, but we’re guessing there’s some truth to it.”

You roll your eyes slightly (not enough for the captain to notice). “Can you tell us what it is yet?”

Captain Cheadle nods. “There’s been a mystery woman in his life. None of his men know, but based on a lift in spirits and an increase in nights gone from his own house, they believe he has to be seeing someone. Rumor amidst his men, according to our tip, is that it's been going on for a few months.”

A knot tightens in your gut. A few months is a little less than correct, but yeah… It’s been six months since you started dating Tom Hiddleston. Off work, on a weekend, you met him in a bar, you got drunk and your mind didn’t work in any other way than tell you how hot he was and how good he made you feel. There was little persuasion needed for Tom to get you in a bed, naked, and screaming out his name. And so far, he’s managed to do it most nights since.

(The case had been assigned to you a month after your first encounter. You’d known his name well before you met him, but that hadn’t stopped you. And, even as his girlfriend, you had no evidence on him whatsoever.)

Yet, after six months of no one knowing anything, you’d been fairly certain you’d get away with it. At least until either one of you got enough of pretending. Tom has enough money for you to quit your job should it come to it, the only problem being that you don’t want to because you love your job.

“Did your source say anything about who the woman could be? Where to find her?” asks Evans.

You wait patiently for the reply. Your gut stirs with the thought that they’d know, that just your face (usually a poker-face no one could read no matter how much you panicked on the inside) would reveal you. But you aren’t revealing anything but being deep in thought, as you can feel Mackie’s eyes on you as your own flicker across the room and a frown has pronounced itself on your face.

“The tip was slight, but the source believes that there might be something to check at a bar. It’s one Hiddleston frequents, High Rise.”

Oh, if only the name didn’t chime with recognition at the back of your mind. There isn’t much to do but accept your fate and follow up on the lead, only try your best to avoid being recognized as the girl who left with Tom Hiddleston half a year ago. That could be rather easy, seeing as the bar was dark and you’d been wearing more make-up than usual and the dress you wore hadn’t stood out in any way, and it being six months ago.

You nod at captain Cheadle. “Anything else we should know?”

He nods slightly. “There came one more thing with the tip, but this wasn’t a written message.” He roams around his papers for something and eventually fishes out an evidence bag. Inside is an envelope and something small you can’t see from far away. He slides it across the table to you.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of what lies in the bag. The envelope easily recognizable as one you’d written yourself (though you’d used a typewriter―fancy―so there isn’t any handwriting to check), and the content a barely visible silver and gold wristband inscribed with a phrase Tom has whispered time and time again in your ear (the most intimate you’ve been outside of sex); my safe spot is with you in my arms.

Your fingers graze over it as you look at the inscription. “That’s pretty intimate,” you say, and an agreed murmur comes from your captain.

“You traced it?” asks Mackie.

“Untraceable. Paid in cash, no receipt, and might even have been done illegally.”

At least you know that that’s not true, and if they’d tried just a little bit harder, it wouldn’t be that hard.

“Fingerprints?” you ask, though not sure exactly where it comes from. (Or, well, it comes from the fact that you’ve touched the wristband on several occasions and that, unless wiped, there should be fingerprints all over it.)

You look up from the evidence bag to see captain Cheadle shake his head. “A few around the clasp, but none enough to make a full print, and any other we could find are only Hiddleston’s. The envelope’s the same”

“The question is whether Hiddleston sent it to someone or if someone sent it to him.” Evans motions for you to slide the evidence over to him, and you do.

“He’s the biggest crime lord in New York, he’s gotta be real smitten if he’d make that to send to someone.” Mackie shrugs, not sold on the idea that Tom Hiddleston, crime boss extreme, could be sappy enough to send it apparently.

Well, if only you knew what Tom would do for the one he loves, if only you knew.

“Well,” you say and clap your hands together, “seems we have more to do today than reports.”

A slight chuckle comes from the three men in the room with you.

“I want you, Mackie, with me on a trip down to High Rise. Captain, is it possible to talk to our source other than written communication?”

A nod.

“Then I want you, Evans, to have a little chat with Hiddleston’s ex-buddy. Let’s see if he doesn’t have more information, and if you can’t get much, try a little harder on the wristband. There’s gotta be something to look for there, maybe mention it to our source?”

“On it.” Evans gives you a thumbs up, grabs the evidence and walks out the door. You and Mackie move to do the same, and on your way there, you fish your phone out from your pocket.

[08.41] twh i’ll have to get back to you on that, but you can probably count me in have a good day, darling

[09.27] you sounds great but, on some not so good news, you got a snitch amidst you and i have smth that belongs to you in evidence

You don’t wait for a reply, certain he’s busy and also because Mackie is a nosy asshole and you’re not gonna get caught on a text message.

“You know where High Rise is?” asks Mackie as you make your way to your desk.

“GPS exists, but I have a hunch,” you say as you grab your jacket. Unfortunately, that hunch is more a hunch that your relationship is getting threatened by your work.

(“A hunch. Yeah, right, you’ve probably been there.”

“Careful what you say there, kiddo.”

“I’m older than you!”

“And yet, I’m driving.”)

[09.53] twh name? and what might that be?

[11.16] you i didnt get one but one of my guys is questioning him smth i bought you

[11.17] twh ill figure it out, and that has to be my wristband. how?

[11.17] you you tell me

Mackie nudges your arm with his elbow as you make it inside the bar. It’s mostly deserted, highly unlike the life that was there the last time you set foot in the place. A man sits in the booth in the back sipping what looks like whiskey based on the glass and the brown liquid inside. By the entrance, a woman and a man sit across each other at a table. Each of them have a beer, though only the man looks to have touched his, and the woman doesn’t look too happy with him.

However, you turn your attention to the bar, and the bartender behind the counter. Fortunately, he’s not the same one that was here when you were. Making your way over, you note the exits (the one you came in through, a backdoor in the kitchen, and―one you noted the first time you were there―the window in the ladies’ room). You also note the man sitting at the edge of the bar counter, back hunched over and an old fashioned placed in front of him. Untouched.

“How can I help you?” asks the man behind the counter. A bushy beard covers his chin, ruffled brown hair the top of his head, and tattoos cover his upper arm, visible where his t-shirt sleeve ends. In his hands he holds a cleaning towel and a glass, but as you sit down, he slings the towel over his shoulder and puts the glass down. “Guessing beer for you, sir, and maybe a scotch on the rocks for the lady?”

You shake your head, and roll your eyes at Mackie’s almost nod. You’re at work, you’re not gonna drink. “Sorry, mister, but we’re here on other business.” You pull out your badge and give him a peek.

The bartender’s eyes go wide. “Sorry, ma’am, didn’t know. You could've fooled me.” He holds out a hand. “I’m Tom Hardy, co-owner of this shithole.”

“Shithole?” Mackie eyes the man.

“Can’t say there’s a lot of good going on in here, really. Nothin’ illegal, though.” Hardy winks at Mackie and you roll your eyes. The last thing you care about is the tiny illegal things going on at the bar. “What can I help you with? There’s not been any complaints, right?”

Mackie shakes his head. “Relax, man, it’s got nothing to do with you. We’re looking for information on a man, also named Tom, but with a different last name. Hiddleston, heard of him?”

The scoff Tom Hardy comes with is barely audible, but you catch it and cock your head to the side.

“Who hasn’t heard of Tom Hiddleston? Supposedly a big mafia boss, but the police has got nothing on him.”

“We got word he frequents this bar. That true?”

Hardy nods. “He’s by at least once a week, sometimes more.”

You try to drown the ache that falls over your heart knowing he still comes by. “You know what he’s here for?”

The bartender shrugs. “Don’t get into that shit, but I know he has a deal with my co-owner, Luke Evans.”

Mackie pulls out a pad and a pen and writes down the name. “Hiddleston ever leave here with a girl in the last few months?”

Hardy shakes his head. “Nah, leaves with the same men, though he has gotten different. Before he used to indulge a little more with the women, but now he seems to not want to. They want him, though.”

The ache fades a little at that. He’s loyal, he’s trustworthy, he’s yours. “Did he use to leave with girls before?” you ask.

“Dunno. He’s usually here when Luke works, only some shifts we got together.” Hardy shrugs. “Though the times I have been here, he’s never left with a girl. He’s followed some into the bathroom, but never left with one. Gotta be some special girl for him to leave with her.”

You suppress the smile that tugs at your lips. “Thank you, mister Hardy. Could you get us in touch with your co-owner? We wanna have a little chat with him, too.”

“He works tonight. Sorry, can’t give you anymore.” The man picks up a glass again. “But if we’re done here, you’re gonna have me excused. I have a job to do.”

“Thanks for the cooperation,” says Mackie and pushes away from the counter. “We might come back for more.”

You say a small goodbye as you follow after your coworker. On the way to the door, your eyes stray to the man in the back of the bar. Something about him seems off, and even more so when he holds up his glass and tips it your way with a slight hint of a ‘cheers’. The creepy smirk that places itself on his face sparks no comfort, and you let out a sigh as you walk through the door Mackie holds open for you.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

“Got a weird feeling from one of the dudes in the bar. Might be nothing, might be something.” You shake your head, slowly, as your thoughts whirr around in your head. “Doesn’t matter. If he’s here tonight, I might check into it, but it’s probably nothing.”

Mackie shrugs. “We didn’t really get that much here either, though. Hope Evans got better luck.”

“Yeah, gotta hope. But I have a feeling our source might’ve changed his mind on talking.” You open the car door and get in, Mackie following your lead. “I have a feeling Evans might not have been very lucky.”

“You thinkin’ we might end up with… homicide?”

You shrug. “Can’t be sure, but wouldn’t be surprising. Don’t believe we’re gonna be able to connect it to Hiddelston, though.” You start the engine and pull out on the road. “Don’t believe we’re gonna have any connection other than the guy’s snitching.”

“Good enough to talk to him.”

“Good enough to blow what we have if we do.”

The police station became a place of chaos in a matter of seconds. One moment, you’re talking to Evans on what he could find (the source had disappeared without a trace), and the next, it’s like the station is on fire.

Evans, Mackie and yourself are out of the loop. You lean against your desk, your coworkers leaning against the neighboring ones, and look at the chaos erupted around you. People run from one place to another, screaming for help or otherwise.

Then silence consumes the crowd as someone turns up the sound of the TV in the background. You turn to see the screen. On it, there’s a picture of a fire and countless dead bodies, burnt crisps until there is nothing recognizable left to see.

“In just a few minutes the house, that belongs to the infamous crime boss Tom Hiddleston, went up in flames. Whether the man himself was in the house or not, we do not know. Police have yet to arrive at the scene, and the firemen are doing their best to put out the blazing fire. So far, we have no witnesses and no way of knowing what caused it. We’ll be back soon with more updates.”

You lock eyes with Evans and Mackie.

“Our source was in that fire, wasn’t he?” Mackie makes a grimace, and then shakes his head and throws his hands up in the air. “You called it. You fucking called it.”

“I didn’t want to call it.” You shake your head. “And we’re not the force to go out there either, so we’re gonna need someone to talk to Hiddleston about this, about his source, without it being suspicious.”

Evans gets up from his place. “I’ll ask Sebastian.”

“That buddy of yours?” you ask.

“This is the kind of case he gets called out on.”

“Go ahe―”

“Y/L/N!” You’re cut off by the sound of your captain yelling your name. “You’re going out with the team. Take one of the boys. Don’t alert Hiddleston, but he’ll know why you’re there.”

“You got it, sir.” You turn to Mackie and Evans. “Looks like we got some luck after all. Which one of you wanna join me?”

When you pull up to the scene, the fire has been put out. But the fire that is the press and the countless people that’ve decided this is something they need to see live, that has yet to be handled.

You and Evans walk up to the police barricade tape and shove it aside. An office tries to stop you, but you easily walk past after a flash of your badge. The head officer on the case is easily recognizable where he commands what looks like some junior officers.

“What’s the deal?” you ask.

He turns to you, and there you find Evans’s and Mackie’s friend, Sebastian Stan. He smiles at the two of you. “Got five casualties, one critically hurt on his way to the hospital. Medics think his fate’s been sealed. Other than that the fire’s been put out, and the owner of the house arrived about five minutes ago.” Sebastian points to a male figure pacing up and down the sidewalk. “Don’t know if I’d wanna talk to him though.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “We haven’t got much choice.” You’re about to walk from the officer, but you have one last question. “You got any identities on who died?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, and so far it seems the fire was an accident. No fuel used of any kind, nothing weird about the source, and the six that were in the house weren’t close to it. Three of them were asleep.”

“Didn’t the house have a smoke alarm?” asks Evans.

Sebastian shakes his head. “Nope. And you’re not gonna believe what they, as of now, believe to be the source.”

“What?”

“A hair dryer. Wasn’t turned off.”

You frown. “A hair dryer? Nothing else? It’s a pretty big house. Seems like a long shot.”

Sebastian shrugs. “So far we’ve ruled out arson, and seeing how annoyed the owner is over there, safe to say he wasn’t planning on burning his house down.”

Don’t say that. He wouldn’t care, seeing as that isn’t the house he uses mostly―that’s just the public one.

Even Evans knows that, and you give him a look as you move away from Sebastian and towards said owner of the house.

“Hiddleston,” you say as you near him.

The man turns around. His expression is curious rather than angry, but something tugs at his lips as his gaze flickers over to Evans. “Miss Y/L/N, what do I owe the lovely pleasure?”

“Your house burned down. Five of your men dead, and a sixth one just holding on. We’re thinking he’ll die, too, medics said it was critical.” You shrug. “But you already knew that, right?”

Tom smiles, and takes a step closer to you. You have to hold out a hand to stop Evans from coming in between, knowing you have somewhat of a bodyguard in the man. “Darling.” Tom’s hand comes up to cup your cheek and you have to fight the urge to lean into his touch. “How could I know that? No one wants to tell me a bloody thing.” His voice changes fast at the last sentence, the annoyance creeping in.

“Did you set the fire?” asks Evans.

You roll your eyes. “He doesn’t mean to ask that. But we would like to know if there are any of your acquaintances missing?”

Tom nods. “There’s one I wanted to talk to. Name’s Aaron Taylor-Johnson. Haven’t been able to contact him since last night, and that’s unusual.”

“You think he was in the fire?”

The male shakes his head. “I don’t believe he was there at all, but I do believe he would do this. I got the impression he isn’t quite happy with me, or my decisions lately.”

He’s the snitch.

“We’ll let you know if he was in the fire.” You use your hand to push Tom’s hand away from your face, his touch lingering a little too long to be a play (but you weren’t going to complain.) “I have one other inquiry.”

“Go on.”

You take a deep breath before the words leave your mouth. He should be prepared, considering you told him what was in the evidence bag, but you can’t be sure. “Any girlfriends or women in your life we should know about?”

He smiles (god, that smile). “Other than you, love?”

Smooth. You can practically hear Evans roll his eyes behind you.

“Yes, other than me.”

“Then no. I have a far too busy life to deal with girlfriends,” he says, and winks, “though you shouldn’t hesitate to contact me.” Tom leans in close, his lips grazing your ear and his hand taking yours―something cold grazes your fingers. “I can give you a night you won’t forget.”

You don’t let the hitch in your breath show, and when he places a kiss to your cheek, you only stare at him as he pulls away (and let your hand find comfort in your jacket pocket where you let go of your keys).. “Don’t leave town, Mister Hiddleston.”

“I won’t, darling.”

And then you walk away together with Evans. He keeps glancing behind him, and the confusion is written on his face.

“Just ask,” you say as you reach the car.

Evans opens the door. “How are you not fazed by that?” he asks.

You get into the car and shrug. “Because I don’t let it. He thinks it’s fun to play with me because I don’t have a reaction―” (ehehe, yeah right) “―I think it’s fun to let him. Eventually, something has to slip and we’ll be able to catch him on the spot.”

“But you gotta allow yourself to be harassed to do so?”

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t call it harassment, hon. I call it work.”

Evans frowns as you start the engine and pull out of the parking spot. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you noticed? When it comes to sexual harassment, Tom Hiddleston is the least of my worries.”

It’s supposed to be a brief stop; get into your apartment, change into something that doesn’t drag attention at a bar on a Thursday night (probably not going to be too crowded anyways), and get out.

But when you walk in through the door, you see a pair of shoes kicked off in the entrance hall. A coat lies draped over your living-room armchair―a coat easily recognizable.

You hurry to close the door, and kick off your own shoes. The trail of clothes leads you further into the apartment. A dress shirt folded together and placed on the cupboard in your living room. Pants lie discarded on the floor in the doorway to your bedroom. And the man who it belongs to, you find tangled in your sheets, buck naked with the exception of the tie around his neck.

“What do you want?” you ask him, an amused smile plastered on your face as you shake your head.

Tom lifts his head a little. A smirk colors his face and he shrugs. “Thought I could surprise you a little, before I have to get going.” He checks the wristwatch on his arm (which you first now noticed he hasn’t taken off either). “But you’ve used quite a lot of time to get here, and now we barely have time for anything.”

You shake your head, smile gone. “Sorry, babe, but I haven’t got the time.”

“What? You have plans for the evening?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, but it still slightly hurts seeing as you barely get out of the apartment when you get time off. Really, six months ago was a chance meeting unlike any other.

“I have work.” You move to open your wardrobe. “But if you want, you can help me figure out what to wear.” You turn your head to cast Tom a glance, eyebrow raised.

He turns a little, enough for the sheet that had covered him to fall off and leave him fully exposed. And with just the tie as a piece of clothing, you have to turn back around. God, what that man can do. You grit your teeth as you open the door and file through the few dresses you own, patiently waiting for his response.

“What is it for?” he asks, and his velvet smooth voice does nothing to ease the growing arousal in your gut, not with the image of him and that tie the only thing on your mind.

You swallow before you reply, but you don’t dare turn around. “Gotta talk to the owner of a bar, and don’t wanna drag attention with people there so we agreed to act less like police. Might have to have a drink or two.” You sigh, and close your eyes. “You should have waited with this until then.”

“What?” His voice is in your ear, warm breath fanning your neck. You bite down on your lower lip, hard. “You don’t like it? You’re not enjoying it?” His hands find the hem of your shirt. Fingers graze up along your skin and you find yourself complying when he makes a move to drag it off.

“Tom,” you whisper. You lean into him, into the fingers tracing along your bra and the way his lips ghost over the skin on your shoulder, up your neck. “I don’t―” You shudder as he presses a kiss to your jaw. “Ba― Babe, I don’t have―”

He tips your head back and his lips find yours. Barely touching, you close your eyes, and the image of Tom in bed and you using the tie to drag him to you has you swallow, almost succumbing to the pleasure you know you’ll get. His voice is low when he speaks. “Don’t have what?”

You don’t answer as your hand shoots up to press his head closer to yours, to push your lips together. Everything you can think about is him, your boyfriend, and in a matter of seconds your clothes are off as well, and you sink into the mattress as Tom throws you down on your bed. Your eyes open briefly, to see him study the contours of your body and, even as you do give into Tom and your desire, the haste is still on your mind.

With determination etched into you, you drag him to you with the tie and capture his lips in yours. There is no limit to what this man does to you, and there is no limit to what you let him.

With the already extra time you used with Tom, you didn’t have the time to shower. You’d tried your best to fix your hair and do something extra with your make-up, but Tom didn’t have it in him to let you dress and time was wasted.

Evans and Mackie pick you up outside your apartment complex in Evans’s car. As you approach, the two of them lean against it, deep in conversation. They barely notice you coming, but when they do, both give appreciative looks.

“Looking good,” says Mackie, eyes travelling up and down your body. Evans remains quiet, the way his eyes dance over you the only comment you get (and you have to admit, you’re not really complaining.)

You’d opted for something nice, but nothing too much. A skirt that stops mid-thigh, knee high boots with a thick heel, and a slightly revealing shirt. (You’d also opted for a thigh holster so that you could still bring your gun.

“You’re wearing that.” It’s more a statement than a question from the naked man resting on your bed.

You nod, and glance his way. “Problem?”

Tom’s eyes graze over you, hunger evident in them. “I would certainly like to take it off.”

You lift the hem of your skirt, revealing the thigh holster with your gun. “This too?”

“Yes, and right now.”)

In your hand, you have a clutch and you’re also wearing a coat to keep some warmth in the cool evening air. “Shall we go?” you ask.

And the two men both get off from where they’re leaning against the car. Mackie easily offers up the passenger’s seat to you, even though whenever it's him and Evans fighting over it, it’s first come first serve. You smile a thanks and then you’re on your way.

Evans parks a few blocks away from the bar (his expensive Audi with tinted windows certainly drags some attention), and you use the walk there to go through the course of action.

“Mackie’s the cop-cop. He’ll talk to Luke Evans, try something else. We try to talk to some of the people there. Whether that’s as a cop or not, I don’t really care. All we really need is a lead. If anyone sees any of Hiddleston’s associates, please alert the others.”

The two nod. “Sure, but before we go in there, you have to fix your hair.”

You raise your brow at Mackie. “Excuse me?”

“You got sex hair.” He gives you a ‘sorry’ smile and a shrug. “Like, we’re not judging you for having it, but if you’d told us you had a visitor we would’ve waited to come to give you more time.”

“Fuck.” You shake your head and stop. “One, help me fix my hair. Two, I wasn’t planning on it. I was ambushed.” Something that isn’t really that far fetched, it’s not like you knew Tom would be there when you came home.

Evans stops in front of you and asks with his face if he can help, and you nod. His hands move to brush a little through your hair, and fix a little on what probably stands out.

“How could you get ambushed?” asks Mackie.

You roll your eyes. “I got home, there were some clothes lying around, I followed the trail to a naked man in my bed and seeing as it’s the guy I’m currently seeing it wasn’t a bad sight. I tried to tell him I didn’t have the time, but he can be quite persuasive.”

As you talk, Evans tugs a little harshly on your hair and you let out a pained sound. He apologizes, but continues to try and fix your hair.

Mackie shrugs. “How long have you been seeing him?”

You shrug. “Few months.”

“How many months are a few?” asks Evans, his hands letting go of your hair and an approving smile on his face. He steps away to get Mackie’s blessing and the man nods affirmative.

“Uhh, six.”

Both Mackie and Evans stare wide-eyed at you.

“You’ve been dating a dude for six months and not told anyone?!” If you didn’t know better (and you’re not always sure you do), you’d think there was a layer of accusation in Mackie’s voice, but you don’t believe there is.

You shrug and begin to walk again. “What does it matter? It’s not like there’s a need to know about those things.”

“I thought we were friends.” Mackie shakes his head, a small friendly glare sent your way.

“What made you think that?” you ask, but the same friendly feel to your words as there was to his glare. “But can we let it go? I don’t want to talk about my private life.”

Evans nods. “We’re here anyways.”

And you sure are. You look up to see the blinking neon sign of the bar. The bass from the music drifts to where you stand by the door, and with a quick glance inside, you can see it’s fuller than you expected for there to be another work day of the week left. Though you do notice the age of the people; it's possible the college kids don't have class tomorrow, or don’t care.

The three of you make your way inside, gaining a few glances as you step in, but everyone quickly turns back to their own lives. You give a small sign to the two men you came with and move away from them.

It’s easy to step up to the bar, and you easily recognize the bartender as the one who was there when you met Tom. You’re guessing he’s Luke Evans, and you take a breath before you signal him for a drink. Hopefully, you won’t be recognized.

“What can I get you?” he asks.

“A whiskey, thanks.”

He pushes away from the counter, and easily grabs a glass and a bottle and pours. When he puts it down in front of you, his gaze lingers. “Have I seen you before?”

You shake your head. “Has to be somewhere else than here in that case.”

“First time?”

You nod.

“Recommend not drinking a lot. We get some sleazy people in here.”

“I hear you also get crime bosses. This the place to meet the Tom Hiddleston?”

Luke chuckles. “Hon, if you want to meet Tom Hiddleston, I suggest you start being careful what you wish.” He nods to the back of the bar. “Best luck is sitting down in that reserved booth. It’s his usual.”

You cock your head. “He’s coming here today?”

The bartender nods.

“Ain’t I lucky,” you whisper and smile at him. You easily get away from the counter and make your way to the empty booth in the back.

Sure enough, a sign reading reserved is placed on the table. Who it’s reserved for doesn’t say, nor is there a time stamp. You make for sliding into it, but a hand grasps your wrist and pulls you away.

As you fall into the chest of the stranger, you turn your head. The man who you’d seen earlier today is the one holding you back. Up close, you notice bags under his eyes and he reeks of alcohol. You pull away from his grip and raise a brow his way.

“I wouldn’t sit down there if I were you,” he says, and slides into the same booth he had earlier.

“Why?”

He shakes his head. “Tom Hiddleston isn’t a man to mess with.”

“And how do you know so much about Tom Hiddleston?”

The man pats the seat next to him. “Sit and I’ll tell you.”

You hesitate, but eventually slide in. You leave room between yourself and the stranger. If anything were to happen, you do have a gun.

“You got any relation to Hiddleston?” you ask (you have to admit, no matter how much you want your boyfriend not to be caught, you wish you knew more about what he did do).

“Name’s Aaron.” The snitch.

You motion for him to go on.

“I was hired by him three months ago. He felt the cops were gaining and wanted something, or someone to try and put a stopper to it.”

“So, Tom Hiddleston hired you to snitch on the cops?” You want to laugh, seeing as you snitch enough for Tom to never know exactly what you know, but enough to cover his tracks.

Aaron shakes his head. “He hired me to snitch on a cop. A specific one.”

You frown, sure if he was hired to snitch on you you’d know and he would have recognized you. Perhaps he had.

“The cop’s here today.” Aaron’s gaze travels into the crowd of people in the bar. You see where he looks. Evans. “His name is Chris Evans.”

“Why did he want you to spy on him?”

Aaron shrugs. “He never said. And eventually, I got sick of it. The guy’s obviously not a threat to Hiddleston and his business. Y/N Y/L/N is, but it’s impossible to find out anything about her. Don’t even know what she looks like.”

You try not to let it show that you flinched at the mention of your own name. And you find it weird that he can’t find anything on you. Tom did so, easily. But there’s no need to dwell on that. You glance at Aaron again, unsure how to ask.

“You say you got sick of it. What did you do? Just stop doing his bidding, or something else?”

A smile colors Aaron’s face. “Snitched to the cops. Left a message. Anonymous, but I gave them a way to contact me for more information.” He shakes his head. “Got contacted today, but never replied. But I saw you here this morning, talking to the bartender.”

You cock your head. That could be an easy way to draw the connection to you as a cop, not necessarily as Y/N Y/L/N, but you had been seen with Mackie, and usually Mackie and Evans were seen with each other.

“I have a proposition for you,” he says. “One that means getting close to Hiddleston, and that includes spying on him. Mics, cameras, whatever. I need him in jail.”

“I’m gonna have to say no. I was just hoping for a night, a friend of mine told me he was real good in bed.” You shrug. “But if you have angered him, I got told by the bartender that Hiddleston comes in today.”

Aaron smiles. “You’ll have to excuse me, then. I hope you don’t anger him with only the intention of a one night stand. Based on how you look, I’m pretty sure you’re his type.” The male slides out of the booth, downs his drink in one go, and waves goodbye. You watch as he moves to the restrooms, and you roll your eyes when he winks.

[10.47] you snitch is alive, in the restrooms hiddlestons supposed to come in today

[10.48] evans no snitch in the restrooms, window’s open tho guessing it was the guy that slipped past me just now

[10.48] you guess so mackie u got anything from the bartender

[10.50] mackie that hiddlestons coming in that their deal is just renting of the venue from time to time

[10.50] you well just have to do the best of it then im sitting in his booth so if he comes hell notice

[10.51] evans sure thats a good idea??

[10.51] you would very much like to know why he put someone to spy on you evans snitch was hired to keep tabs, got annoyed he wasnt keeping tabs on me

[10.51] mackie dam i wanna know that too be careful

You look up and meet the gazes of your coworkers. Evans looks uncomfortable, worried almost, judging by the crease between his brows. Mackie gives you a look of understanding and a pair of thumbs up.

You down your drink, try to cover the hiss as pain sears down your throat, and make to sit down in Tom’s booth. On the way in, you knock over the reserved sign, making it fall to the floor. Now, it’ll look like you didn’t know.

[10.57] mackie Incoming

The front door opens slowly. Heads turn to look who comes through, and unlike when you arrived with Mackie and Evans, everyone’s eyes stay on the man who weaves his way through the crowd.

Tom stops by the bar, has a small chat with the bartender and turns his head to look your way. A smirk grazes his lips as your eyes lock, but he quickly turns back to the man he was talking to.

You swallow. You have to steady your beating heart, have to shove the thought of the night’s previous events to the back of your mind, and kill the deep swirling feeling in your gut at the sight of Tom in that blue fucking suit. God, if there was something Tom Hiddleston was made to do it’s wearing suits.

The blue color suits his very being. It’s tailored to fit him perfectly; long legs encased in blue fabric that shows off his bum, suit jacket that fits his shoulders and back in a way that has you swallow. You can see his broad shoulders and some of the tightness that drags at his muscled arms. What you can’t wait to see, is how well the shirt underneath fits him. You simply can’t wait for him to pull off the jacket.

Thankfully, you don’t have to wait very long. With two drinks in hand he makes his way up to where you sit. He doesn’t say anything as he places them on the table, nor does he say anything when he pulls up the reserved sign from where it lies on the floor. He places it back on the table, eyes you warily, and sides into the booth.

Long arms grasp for the drinks. He pulls them in and pushes one to you. “Can you drink, darling? You’re working, right?”

You take the glass and swirl the liquid around inside it. “I can, actually.” And you take a sip. “But I won’t drink a lot.”

Tom moves closer to you, knocking his thigh against yours. You take a deep breath at the touch, the only one you can return―Tom flirting with you whilst you work is no news, but it would be quite different if you did the same. “Have you been waiting long, darling?”

“No, I haven’t. I managed to preoccupy myself.”

“Oh, can I hear?”

You shake your head. “What good would you have of that?” you ask. When you get a shrug in return, you roll your eyes and take another sip of the whiskey. “I have a question for you, though.”

Tom cocks a brow.

“Why did you need someone to spy on Evans?”

Your heart beats fast as Tom moves even closer, lips coming up to ghost across your cheek. You can see that the two in the crowd of people keeping a close eye on you flinch, but you don’t make a gesture to show any discomfort. “Have you not noticed, love?”

You push him away by placing a hand on his chest. “Noticed what?” You try to pull your hand back but Tom places his over yours and keeps your touch on him. A small hint of the love he usually offers you shows through the blue of his eyes.

“The man likes you, darling. A little too much. Can’t have another man try anything with my woman.” Tom’s gaze flickers out to the crowd, and as you follow it, you see how it lands on Evans and how your coworker squirms. “Now, if only I could show him.”

“Tom,” you say, voice bordering on affectionate. His eyes flicker to you in surprise; he’s only ever been Hiddleston in public. “There’s nothing to worry about, and if you try anything, anything at all, you will have a gun to your head.”

Tom chuckles. “Are you threatening me?”

“You know where the gun is.” And the hand that travels up and under your skirt, grazing by the thigh holster, has you swallow. You take a deep breath as his hand travels a little further, and the only way to stop him is to grab his hand. “I didn’t say you could check.” You push at him a little, creating more distance between you two (even though you would like to sit close to him).

“I didn’t think I needed permission, love.” He smirks and you shake your head.

You smile innocently at him. “Usually you don’t.” You go to slide out of the booth. “Bye, Hiddleston.”

Tom grabs your arm and pulls you back to his chest. “Have you really made that big a dent in the case of the Blue Sweater?” he whispers in your ear. You writhe in his grasp, but a firm hand turns your head to him and his face draws closer to yours. “Tell me what I need to do to have the lead again, darling. I’ll do anything.”

And you can’t stop the sound of surprise that escapes you when Tom presses a chaste kiss to your lips. The surprise is so big you only stare wide-eyed at him, not able to kiss him back (and good is that seeing as you’re in public), and when he pulls back, you push away from him and shake your head.

“You’re an idiot,” you say (no teasing or play in your voice), and then you walk away. You rush out of the bar, feel Evans’s and Mackie’s eyes on you, and when you get out of the front door you lean against the wall. Your heart hammers in your chest. You’re panting, and you can feel the rush of adrenaline making its way through your body.

You may like to play with fire, letting him flirt and show affection in public, but you wouldn’t ever go this far. You wouldn’t ever think he’d even risk it.

“Are you okay?” comes a voice from next to you. Evans and Mackie have made it outside, and you push off the wall to start walking to the car.

“We’re not talking about it,” you say.

Neither of them make a move to say more, and you can hear them follow after you. Tom might be the worst person in history to be in a secret relationship with. Or maybe the best. You haven’t decided yet.

It’s no surprise to see the people surrounding your desk when you get to work. Your two usual pests sit at their own, and though not a part of the group waiting for you, they shoot you glances as you sit down.

You try not to glare at the group, but when they all just quietly stare at you, the anger bubbles. “What?” you ask.

A small murmur goes through them, until your impatient glare becomes too much and one voice squeaks out, “did Tom Hiddleston kiss you?”

He has more than once, you think.

You don’t reply, only giving them an unamused look in return. They quickly scatter, and you can hear the chatter that bubbles up amongst them.

Not only do you not have the patience for stupid pestering (and annoyance at Evans and Mackie for spreading the word), but your morning was the worst in a while. It’s almost become a usual for Tom to sleep over, whether because he falls asleep after sex or if he just wants to cuddle, but when you came home yesterday, there was no Tom.

And no Tom means no morning cuddles, or a goodbye kiss as you leave out the door. On top of that, he hasn’t texted either. No saying why he didn’t show. No explaining why he risked a kiss in public.

A text you did get in the morning, was a journalist asking for an interview. Especially interesting was the lack of respect for an ongoing investigation, and the bold way to ask whether or not you were secretly helping Tom not get caught (you want to know how they would even guess it. That’s a pretty bold assumption to make about the lead detective on a case).

Tired, you rest your elbow on the desk and lay your head in your hand. You massage your forehead slightly, and there’s no mistaking the groan that leaves your lips as your thoughts swirl.

A knock on your desk pulls you out of it. You look up to see Mackie leaning against it. “You okay?” he asks.

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. We gotta talk about what information we got, though. But I don’t trust… I don’t want to talk out here, so, briefing room in five minutes. I don’t know if Evans heard, but make sure he did.”

Mackie scrunches his nose slightly and presses his lips together.

“What’s wrong?”

“Briefing room’s occupied.”

You curse under your breath and shake your head. “We got a meeting room, that occupied?”

Mackie shakes his head. “Not that I know.”

“We’ll meet there.” And as he gives you a thumbs up, you get up from your desk and move to the captain’s office. With a knock and a mumbled ‘come in’ you walk into the room and close the door behind you.

Cheadle looks up at you. “I heard what happened.”

You nod. “Yeah, but there’s something else I’m here about.”

He quirks a brow. “Oh? Important?”

You pull out your phone, ignore the new message you’ve gotten and find the text from the journalist. You hand the captain your phone. “Got this this morning. I want to know how they got my number, what made them think I’m colluding with the guy I’m trying to catch, and what the hell made them believe I’d ever talk to a news source about an open investigation.”

“That is weird.” Captain Cheadle hands you back your phone (just in time, too, because a message chimes in from twh). “When you have time, come back in here. I know you’re gonna talk to the guys now, but I’d like for it to be soon. And check if they haven’t gotten the same one.”

“Yes, sir.” You sigh and walk out again. You head for the meeting room and on your way you pull open your text thread with Tom.

[08.18] twh darling we need to talk i think i have some information you’d like to have

[08.23] you gonna talk about smth else too or just your problem??

[08.23] twh im sorry, darling, i got caught up in work we can talk about both tell me when you have time and ill show up at your flat

[08.23] you tonight, 8

The reply goes by you as you open the door to the meeting room. Evans and Mackie already sit down, Evans with papers in front of him and Mackie with his phone out on the table. You frown, but sit down across from them.

“I don’t know who wants to start.” You look between the two men, and when neither say anything, you shrug. “Guess I’ll go then.” You take a deep breath. “Our snitch’s name is Aaron Taylor-Johnson, the man Hiddleston mentioned yesterday when we questioned him about the fire. He isn’t dead because he was in the bar. He says he was hired a few months ago to keep tabs on Evans, but he got sick of it because, according to him, you’re not the threat. On the other hand, I am, but he didn’t know he was talking to me.”

“Did you find out why Hiddleston got him to spy on Evans?” asks Mackie.

You shake your head. “Hiddleston didn’t answer that. Snitch didn’t know himself, but he said he tried to keep tabs on me, too, only he couldn’t. He didn’t have anything to go on, no information, no way to know what I look like. And I find that interesting. Why would Hiddleston go out of his way to make sure they couldn’t do anything to make me a culprit or anything?”

“Maybe because Hiddleston has the biggest crush on you?” asks Evans, and there’s no mistaking the hint of spite in his voice as he says so. “Or, he finds you that big enough a threat he can’t have his guys going around doing stuff to hinder you because you’re smart enough to be able to connect it to him?”

“I hope the last,” you mumble. “But there was definitely something he wasn’t telling me. He seemed to know more than he let on, but I couldn’t push like I usually do because then he’d know. I want to see if we can contact him again, because he knew we tried yesterday without luck.”

“We’ll try, but I don’t think we’re gonna get much either.” Evans nods, and all three of you let out sighs.

You motion for them to start talking instead. Evans slides you a piece of paper. Not much is on it, but the words are clear. You look up at him.

“There were some regulars there that have witnessed Hiddleston many times. The man I talked to said that.” Evans coughs. “‘He’s always alone, at least when he sits, but he leaves with men. Never has a girl around him unless they come up to him, hasn’t had one in a long time. Only once did he leave with one. She was pretty, looked rather intimidating, actually. Don’t think it lasted.’ The man also went on to ramble about how after that, Hiddleston hasn’t been seen with a girl. Well, before you.”

“So he has left with a girl once.” Mackie confirms. “Luke Evans said the same thing. A pretty little thing that edged in on the man unlike no one he’d seen before, and that surprisingly got to leave with him. He’s never seen the woman again, and he found that odd. He doesn’t believe Hiddleston’s got someone in his life, though.”

You bite your lower lip. “Well, that is something. Any descriptions?”

Both shake their heads.

“There is one thing I noted, though,” says Mackie. “If Hiddleston does have someone he likes, is with, whatever. He so openly flirts with you that that woman has got to be furious, and he probably wouldn’t have kissed you either. I think the wristband was sent to him, not from him.”

You nod. “I believe you’re right there.” You know he’s right, but that’s details you’re not sharing. “But I have something more interesting.” You fish your phone out of your pocket (ignore the new messages from Tom) and open up the one you got this morning.

“What’s going on?” asks Evans as you place your phone in front of them on the table. They read over the text and cast eyes up to you. Something in the look both send, they’ve seen something similar before.

“Got it this morning.” You snatch your phone back, seeing the almost pop-up about a new text and not risking who it’s from. “I need to know who believes I’m colluding with the enemy.”

Mackie nods as he opens up his own phone and slides it across to you. “We got the same text, though slightly altered. They’re asking if we know anything about you colluding with Hiddleston.”

[06.53] unkown Hi, I’m a reporter from New York Times. I was wondering if there would be released more information pertaining to the Hiddleston case, and what you know about Hiddleston and Detective Y/L/N’s relationship to the man. I heard last night that they kissed, and maybe the reason you haven’t caught him yet is something entirely else than him being good at what he does.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. You slide Mackie’s phone back to him and let out a loud sigh.

Things are not looking very bright.

A/N: thats what i have. if you want to, reblog this with a continuation, but please dont steal any of this and act like it’s your own. i worked a lot on this when i still had motivaton but i wanted to at least share it even if i wont finish it, to which im deeply sorry

would always want to know what you guys think...

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #twh #thomas william hiddleston #reader insert #x reader #unfinished #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine

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hxseok-honee · 6 years

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brighter than heaven, darker than hell drabble | the first death

masterlist

a/n: oh god this isn’t even the whole backstory, im still writing the collection of their most memorable moments s m f h, but this shit was lengthy and also the most important bc this was their transition from human to demon - anyway i hope yall like it! and yes the date was intentional thanks

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October 31st, 1904

“Miss Y/l/n, if you could please refrain from sneaking out during lessons to visit the boys’ classrooms, that would be lovely. No boy is going to consider you a suitable lady if you keep doing these things.” Y/n smiled politely at her teacher, allowing herself to imagine that she had actually smashed his head into his desk instead.

“With all due respect, sir, I didn’t just sneak off. That scum Jeon Jungkook was spreading rumors about me, so I was simply dealing with the situation.” She caught the glimmer of disdain that ran through his eyes, wondering for a moment if she was that bad at hiding her hatred for other people.

“People spread rumors for a reason, Miss Y/l/n. Maybe you should take your seat and look inward to find the faults that lead to these rumors.” Rage boiled inside her, reaching levels that even she was unaware were possible. Her feet moved forward of their own accord, bringing her closer to the teacher as her hands curled into fists. She must have looked truly wild in that moment, considering the shock that passed over the man’s face. Luckily, he was spared when she caught the sound of the bell chiming softly outside the schoolhouse.

Taking just a second to regain control and shaking off her unexpected lack of it today, Y/n turned on her heel, pushing past the other girls in her class to grab her bag and exit the room angrily. She could hear them whispering as she marched out of the building, following her as she headed in the direction of her home. The only good thing about the soft voices was the way they intensified when he was around. She was always ready for him, never surprised by his presence.

Noticing the way they just now intensified, she turned without hesitation and was met with the sight of him heading her way, frustration clear on his face. He stopped mere inches from her face, bending slightly to meet her equally annoyed gaze.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but if you ever come into my classroom like a little whore begging for attention and humiliate me in front of my peers again, I will actually consider killing you.” Sick of the endless threats and games they had been playing for almost fifteen years now, Y/n stepped up to him without blinking.

“You want to kill me, Jeon? Then kill me.” It wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t fazed by her challenge that surprised her. It was the way a wave of excitement passed through his eyes. She recognized that excitement- it was the same thrill she felt when she was about to do something that no one would approve of. It was followed by an equally familiar blank stare, completely devoid of emotion. He stepped away from her slightly, glancing over his shoulder at the crowd that was forming before looking back into her eyes.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you.”

She was waiting for him when he arrived that night, dressed all in black and approaching her home swiftly. There was a blunt object in his hand, and she couldn’t help but expose her location with the condescending laugh that escaped her. She waited until his eyes found hers to speak, stepping out from the shadows to point at the item in his hand.

“Did you plan on killing me with that? A bit messy, don’t you think?” He stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. “As much as I’d love to have actually been surprised by you for once in my life, I can’t have you coming into my home like that. I might hate my parents, but they have always cared for me, and to die in their space is just disrespectful in my opinion.” She had turned her head to the side by that point, giving him the opening he needed to finally act on the years of rage and hatred that had built up. Discarding the weapon entirely, he had his fingers wrapped around her throat as soon as she was within arms reach.

Shoving her violently back into the tree behind her, he held her there, hands squeezing tighter and tighter the more he felt her breath leaving her. A shiver of joy passed through his spine as he realized he had complete control over her life in that moment. He almost lost himself in it. The only thing keeping him from moving forward was the faint thought in the back of his mind, wondering why she hadn’t fought back yet.

No, she was just smiling at him, smiling as she faded from existence. It was honestly unsettling, just as she knew it would be. She knew he would hesitate at some point- he wasn’t strong enough to follow through unless he snapped completely. She knew she had her moment when his eyes left hers for less than half a second, flickering down to watch his hands, a single moment of doubt passing through him.

Taking advantage of the microsecond granted to her, she brought her knee up and shoved it harshly into his abdomen. When his fingers left her throat as he bent over with a cough, she grabbed hold of his hair and, stepping away from her home and further into the forest behind her, she used nothing but her weight to throw him forward and down the hill in front of them. Following closely behind, she straddled him as he lay crumpled on the ground, bringing her fists down heavily on his face while he tried to fight back.

It was in that moment that they realized simultaneously that neither of them would be making it through this night. She wasn’t going to stop with a simple beating, and he wasn’t just going to let her beat him to death. They both realized it at the same time and, without even pausing to think twice, they accepted their fates.

Bringing her hands down on Jungkook even harder than before, she was hardly fazed when he managed to break through her attack and grab hold of her head firmly. Anchoring himself to her, he brought his own head up to slam it into her face, smiling slightly when blood started flowing from her nose and onto his clothes. Grabbing the front of his jacket, Y/n threw her body to the side, effectively sending them rolling down another hill and further into the forest. The sound of rushing water hit her ears as they came to a stop and she tried to reorient herself from all the spinning. Jungkook used that time to glance up and search for the river that was clearly close by. Locating it in the dark, he pushed her off him and rose to his feet, threading his fingers through the ends of her long hair and yanking her behind him as he made his way to the water.

Laughing when she started screaming at the agony of being dragged through the dirt by her hair, he stopped when he reached the water. Taking a second to note that it was much deeper than he had expected, he was unprepared for the way Y/n reached up and dragged her nails down the length of his arm, carving bloody scratches into the skin there. With a cry of pain and anger, he fell to his knees beside her, giving her a chance to tackle him, sending them both into the river without a second thought.

Now under the cover of both the darkness of the night and the muddiness of the water, they were forced to rely on nothing but instinct to finish what they had started. Neither of them was trying to even survive at this point- they were both just too stubborn to die first. It turns out it wouldn’t matter in the end anyway. Neither of them realized that the river ended just over 5 miles away from where they had fallen in. They both would actually manage to survive for those 5 miles, but they certainly wouldn’t survive being simultaneously thrown off a cliff that met shallow water and jagged rocks at the bottom. It was in that moment that they succumbed to the black holes of violence and hatred that had resided in them since birth, fighting and dying together for the first time in what would be many years to come.

#bts texts #bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts supernatural au #bts drabble #kim taehyung #taehyung texts #taehyung x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader

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elsaclack · 6 years

Note

This is really random but I saw a fic of yours about Amy being sick (I think the prompt was "Amy yells at the Vulture") but I can't find the full piece anywhere. Is it on AO3 anywhere? I love your writing and I completely understand if you just didn't want it out anymore. Just thought I'd ask! :)

i thought it was but i just went and searched my entire work history (including all 70+ chapters of those god-forsaken oneshot collections) and i couldn’t find it anywhere!! i guess i forgot to cross-post it back when i first wrote it, and it got lost when i deleted the original elsaclack. but i just scoured my docs list and found it buried in a random folder so i’ll repost it here and add it to the newest one-shot collection on ao3 :)

fun fact: this was written almost exactly 2 years ago!!! meaning that my writing skills have developed considerably since i actually wrote this. aka please don’t judge me if this seems like a sudden regression haha

also i wanna tag @phil-the-stone-art bc we actually developed the concept of The List together so she’s at least 35% responsible for this fic lmao

under the cut!

Amy Santiago does not get sick, thank you very much. She prides herself on her meticulous nightly hygienic rituals, on the cabinet full of multivitamins and minerals she takes on a daily basis in her bathroom, on the rigorous workout routine and diet she keeps herself on each week to maintain perfect health. She lives her life by a very tight plan (laid out in checklists and carefully organized in color-coded binders) that simply does not afford her any extra time to be sick.

Which is why, when she wakes up one Tuesday morning with a head stuffed full of cotton and violent shivers rolling down her spine, she gets up to start her usual routine in spite of the fact that she feels like she hasn’t actually slept in three weeks. Jake’s still snoring on the other side of the bed, another hour away from getting up to haphazardly dress in whatever flannel he can find lying on her bedroom floor that doesn’t smell too dirty, and he doesn’t even stir at the sound of her shuffling footsteps or running nose.

She drags herself into the bathroom, shuts the door, and flicks the lights on. Her reflection honestly makes her jump back an inch or two; she’s never seen her skin quite so pale, or bruises beneath her eyes quite so dark, or her lips quite so visibly dry and cracked. She reaches out to grip the edges of her sink and realizes that her arms and hands are trembling, and when she leans a bit more weight onto them she notes that her knees are quaking beneath her.

All in all, not a great start to the day.

She presses on, though, ignoring her running nose and congested head and general exhaustion. The shower helps a little, but not much.

When she shuts the water off, she hears Jake moving around in her bedroom, and her heart skips a beat. She hadn’t even realized she’d been in the shower that long. “Jake?” She calls as she wraps a towel around herself. Her voice is coarse and rough.

“Hey,” he knocks lightly at the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah - yeah, could you, um…there’s a binder out on the dining room table, should say something on the cover about that case I was working on last night -” she clears her throat and winces at the sharp pain that responds “- could you grab it and put it in my bag?”

“Sure,” he’s quiet for a moment and Amy’s left to gently rub at her temples with the heels of her hands. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound awful.”

“I’m…I’m fine.”

But she’s not. Her knees are still quaking and vertigo has suddenly set in and she’s swaying, reaching out to grab the tiled edge of her shower. Her hand slips against the wet surface and she falls forward, shoulder banging painfully into the tiles.

The door swings open and Jake bursts inside in a panic. “Ames? Oh my God!” She suddenly realizes that she’d sunk down to a crouching position upon falling. He kneels next to her, gently pulling her away from the shower and letting her lean heavily into him. Her head falls against his shoulder, forehead pressed to the crook of his neck, and she hears him tut. “You’re burning up, babe,” he says quietly.

“I’m fine,” her voice fails half-way through and she ends up finishing in an unconvincing whisper.

“You’re not going to work today,” he tells her.

“But -”

“You almost fainted just now, Amy. You’re staying home sick today.”

She tries to argue but he pulls her up off the ground, keeping his touch firm and steady should gravity leave her again, and her voice completely dies on the way out of the bathroom. He lets her whisper weak arguments as he steers her gently toward the bed, humming and nodding along as he pulls fresh sweatpants up her legs and eases one of his academy shirts over her head. He pushes back on her good shoulder with just enough force that she lays down and pulls the comforter up to her chin. Her eyelids flutter closed when he presses a kiss against her forehead.

“I’ll tell Captain Holt where you are,” he says quietly. His hand finds hers against the mattress, fingers twisting through hers. “Get some sleep, okay?”

She’s asleep before he even gets out the front door.

A few hours later she’s roused by the sound of her phone vibrating on her bedside table. Sunlight streams in through her window and she squints, disoriented, fumbling around with semi-numb fingers for her phone.

From: Jake PeraltaHow u feelin? Miss u at work. Charles says he’ll bring u goat soup later lol

It hurts to even swallow, and Amy has to work really hard to keep from whining at the splitting headache igniting behind her right eye.

To: Jake PeraltaFeel like garbage. I haev a headache. Im afraid to get out of bed for meds. Miss u too

She waits five minutes for him to respond, and when her phone remains motionless, she closes her eyes and lets it fall against her chest.

Precisely twenty minutes after that, she hears her front door open. It closes again and she hears footsteps crossing her living room and it only just hits her that someone is in her apartment when those footsteps cross the threshold of her bedroom.

“Hey, hey, don’t get out of bed,” Jake says soothingly. Amy falls back against her pillow from her struggling half-sitting up position as Jake drops a plastic grocery bag at the foot of her bed and perches on the edge of the mattress beside her. He replaces her phone back on her bedside table with one hand and smooths his other palm over her forehead (and she only just then realizes that she’s sweating) and grimaces. “You’re still burning up,” he says, running his fingers through her hair just above her forehead.

“I’m fine,” she whispers, and the words slip out between two wet coughs.

He frowns and gently scratches his short nails against her scalp. “I brought Advil,” he says, casting an absent glance over his shoulder at the bag he brought in, “and stuff to make soup. It’s the recipe for Nana’s matzoh ball soup.” She raises her eyebrows beneath his palm and he grins down at her. “Don’t tell Charles, but it’s literally the best soup you’ll ever have and it’ll cure your dumb cold in twenty minutes or less.”

“Promise?”

He leans down and pecks a kiss against her forehead. “Promise,” he says when he leans away. “I’m gonna go make some and bring it in here and you’ll be back on your feet before the end of the day. Peralta Guarantee.” He winks.

She sinks down into the mattress as much as she can when he stands up, opening her eyes only when he comes back in with two Advil tablets and a glass half-full of water. Within minutes she begins hearing pots and pans knock around in her kitchen, and through her cloudy mind she registers that her stomach is rumbling in irritation.

“Alright,” he announces from her doorway. Her eyes split open and he’s carefully balancing the soup bowl on top of her dresser. “I’ll help you sit up, don’t move.”

He pulls her up with one hand and waits until she’s sitting up steadily before hurriedly stacking her pillows up behind her. She breathes a sigh of relief when she leans back, not realizing just how much of a strain sitting up is until that moment. He hurries back to where the soup is still steaming and carefully brings it over to her, the tip of his tongue appearing at the corner of his mouth for how hard he has to concentrate on not spilling any.

He nestles it in her lap, and she smiles, because he looks so proud of himself and he’s really so adorable.

Jake stays with her until she finishes the whole bowl and then he takes her dishes from her and quickly rinses them out in her sink.

“I’ll be back after work to check on you and to finish cleaning that, okay?” He calls from her doorway.

She hums hoarsely and fades out of consciousness.

An hour later, Amy wakes up feeling half-human. Her head and throat still hurt and she still can’t breathe out of her nose, but her brain doesn’t feel quite so fried and her limbs don’t feel quite so weak anymore.

Jake was right - the soup really did help.

Not as much as Nyquil would, but…still.

She kicks the comforter off and moves to sit up, and her phone suddenly falls into her lap from her chest. She pauses, staring at it, trying to remember when it ended up back there. She has no new calls or texts, but when she unlocks the screen, there’s a new note pulled up.

Things i want t odo to jake in bed

Amy feels flames engulf her face that have absolutely nothing to do with her fever. The list has twelve items on it, each one raunchier and riddled with more spelling errors than the last, and by the time she gets to the end of the note she’s covering her face in embarrassment. She’s got just the vaguest memory of typing it (and it’s really more of a dream of a memory than anything else), but none of it will solidify into more than just faint snapshots in her head.

But the more she rereads it, the more heat begins building in her body - heat from the mental images, heat from the germs ravaging her body, heat from the thick comforter still draped over her legs.

She has got to go get some Nyquil.

Santiago Determination blazes through her as she drags herself out of bed, shoulders set and jaw clenched as she pulls one of Jake’s hoodies over her frame and slides her feet into her rarely-worn flip-flops. Part of her feels guilty, knowing that if Jake was the one home sick she’d insist on him texting her anything he needs so that he would stay in bed and recover faster, but she brushes it off as she grabs her purse.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

She blames her scattered brain on the matzoh ball soup later. She blames her compromised detective skills and her lack of attention to detail and her general disorientation on the soup. Because under normal circumstances, no matter how sick she truly is, she would definitely have noticed the Vulture browsing the low aisles of the bodega around the corner from her house immediately upon walking through the front doors.

But as it is, she doesn’t, which means that he gets a visual on her before she’s even aware of being spotted.

She’s so busy perusing the medicine section toward the back that she doesn’t notice him stalking around the shelves, doesn’t feel him peeking around the Doctor Scholl’s cardboard display, doesn’t hear him mutter at a mother and daughter to get out of his way as he follows her ambling walk down the aisle. She isn’t aware of the danger until he’s basically on top of her.

“Yo, Santiago,” he says, his voice low and curdling. She winces and turns slowly, and he’s leaned against the shelves to her left, leering down at her. A handcart hangs between them; it’s full of at least thirty boxes of condoms, she realizes when she glances down. Her stomach shifts unpleasantly. “You look homeless.”

“Get out of the way,” she whispers hoarsely.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Peralta got you screaming so hard every night you lost your voice?”

Heat bursts through her cheeks and she glances back, meeting the scandalized look on that same mother’s face with an apologetic grimace. “Shut up.” She snaps as fiercely as she can.

He smirks, because her voice only comes in bursts. “Damn, you really let yourself go, didn’t you?” His eyes rove her body and she’s suddenly very keenly aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any underwear beneath her sweatpants. She can feel her face blossoming.

“Whatever.” She turns away quickly and digs her phone out of her purse, cursing when she hears the Vulture following her down the aisle. She dials Jake’s number quickly, and he answers after just two rings.

“Hey, is everything oka-”

“I need you go come to the bodega by my apartment,” she whispers. She can feel her hand trembling again and she curses whatever part of her thought it would be a good idea to do this on her own.

“Wait, what? Why are you -”

“I thought I could walk over here and get what I needed without you, but -” she winces at the sound of the Vulture’s laugh, loud and obnoxious behind her. “But I ran into someone and I need you to come save me.”

“Santiago, look - they do make extra-small condoms! Should I put a whole box in for you and Peralta or is that too many?”

She hears a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Is that the Vulture?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do not faint.”

“I’m doing my best, but please hurry.”

Amy starts pacing up and down the aisles, doing her best to block the Vulture out. He trails along behind her, alternating between making lewd sexual innuendos about random items on the shelves they pass (“Everything’s a sex toy if you try hard enough,” while pointing out a plastic broom) and insulting her general appearance (“Y’know, you were much sexier before Peralta dragged you down to his level of ugliness. Just make sure your ass doesn’t get as fat as his”). It’s around the time they make it back to the medicine aisle that he turns to making fun of Jake himself.

“I still can’t believe you’re with that loser,” he laughs as Amy finally swipes a bottle of Nyquil off a lower shelf. She stands up slowly, gripping the shelves above her firmly, as a wave of vertigo hits her once again. “You’re hot as shit usually - not right now, obviously - I bet you could sleep with any guy you want.”

She clenches her jaw and tries to calculate how long it’s been since she hung up with Jake.

“I bet the sex is really boring, too,” the Vulture continues. “I bet it’s all missionary and full of, like, eye-contact and shit. I bet he tells you he loves you because you don’t make fun of his tiny weiner.”

“Okay, y’know what?” She snaps, and suddenly her voice is half back. “First of all, there’s nothing wrong with missionary if you do it right. Secondly, you’re full of crap if you really think eye-contact is boring. Third, you’re right, he does tell me he loves me, because he actually loves me, you sexist pig. And fourth, he’s not tiny.”

“Whatever. He’s a joke, just like you, and I bet the sex sucks and you’re both so bad at it that you can’t even tell that it sucks.”

She knows people are staring, but her brain just isn’t functioning right. She yanks her phone out of her purse and quickly scrolls over to her list. “Jake’s the best sex I’ve ever had, okay? In fact, he’s so good that I made a list!” She shoves her phone in his face and scrolls quickly, grinning in manic triumph at the dumbfounded look on his face. “I made a list of all the things I want to do with him because he’s so unbelievably good. You wish you were as good as him.”

He is, for once, speechless. Amy locks her phone and steps back, smug grin on her face. The Vulture’s eyes flicker to something over her shoulder and she sees the spark of recognition in his face; when she turns, she feels her stomach drop down to her toes.

Jake’s standing at the end of the aisle, looking just as dumbstruck as the Vulture. She gasps, and the sound comes out like a ragged squeak. His mouth is hanging open but his brows draw together at the sound.

“Ja- Jake,” she says hoarsely.

This seems to snap him out of his stupor. His mouth snaps closed and he immediately begins striding down the aisle toward her and there’s something new in his eyes - smug and barely-contained glee, maybe - when he throws his arm around her shoulders. “Hi, honey,” he says, laying a kiss against her temple and pulling the bottle of Nyquil from her grasp. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

“Yeah, well, you’re both a couple of losers!” The Vulture shouts after them. Jake twists around and flashes his middle finger at him and grins into Amy’s hair at the sound of his splutters. “I’m buying thirty-five boxes of condoms!”

“You’re amazing.” Jake murmurs once they’re outside of the store. “But next time, just call me instead of trying to go get stuff on your own. I really don’t mind doing it for you. That’s what boyfriends are for.”

She sinks into the passenger’s seat of his car and sighs in relief; her body is already aching from the exertion of just a lap around the bodega. She feels Jake slide in on the driver’s side, feels the engine roar to life beneath her and the air conditioner tickle across her face. The car lurches a little when he puts it in drive and then his free hand finds hers and interlaces their fingers.

“I’m sorry about…that.” She whispers once he’s pulled away from the curb.

“It’s fine, but I really mean it about calling me next time, okay? ‘Specially since you almost fainted this morning and everything, like, what would’ve happened if you’d fallen and hit your head and they took you to the hospital? They would’ve called Manny and it would’ve taken him three hours to get here and -”

“Wait, no, they’d call you,” she interrupts. “Manny’s not my emergency contact anymore. You are.”

He turns his head toward her and stares.

“I changed it two years ago, Peralta. Way before we started dating. I just figured, y’know, since you’re my partner and everything, you’d be able to get there the fastest. And, besides, that’s not even what I was talking about. I meant…the stuff I said to the Vulture. The list.”

“Oh,” he shrugs. “I don’t really care. The guy’s an ass. I could hear him yelling all the way from the front doors. Besides, you weren’t lying.”

He squeezes her hand a few times in quick succession and she snorts. “So you’re…not mad? About any of it?”

“I’m more curious than anything else. Do I get to look at the list, too? Or is that just between you and the Vulture?”

“I can’t stand you.”

She does let him see it once they’re back to her place. He reads each item carefully three times over without ever saying a word, and then stands and grabs his laptop and a notepad off of her dining room table. When she asks what he’s doing, he responds with a muttered “research” and then promptly tells her to finish her soup.

The night passes in a haze that has nothing to do with the cold or the soup or the medicine, and the next morning she wakes to the sounds of Jake’s congested voice explaining through chest-rumbling coughs that neither he nor Amy would be making it into work that day.

#em answers #brooklyn nine nine #amy santiago #jake peralta #jake x amy #my b99 fics #god i've been writing for b99 for a Really Long Time #sos #Anonymous

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1800-seungshine · 7 years

Text

in locked with you.

member: park woojin genre(s): high school!au, fluff, crush!woojin summary: with it being halloween, you suddenly regret being the last person to remain at school and what more luck is that you’re locked in the classroom. fear not, you’re not alone; your crush is there too. (requested - bullet point format) word count: 1.7k

note: wow am i whipped for woojin or is it all of you? i think it’s both lmao but this is another requested scenario by an anon! this is to commemorate an event that i don't actually partake in but i might as well lowkey celebrate it by writing about it..??? heheheh. it's actually halloween now here in australia so imma write this as quick as possible lmao - to those trick or treating, have fun and stay safe!!

p.s thank you to the anon that requested this! it means a lot < 33

halloween - the greatest time of the year for pranksters and outright mischievous

your school loveessss halloween

even to the extent where the principal allows the student committee to put decorations on and let the students come as anything they want

ofc you didn’t wanna miss out on the fun

so you dressed up as that one thicc sausage bun which will be forever missed (halloweiner anyone?? ok that was lame)

rip snapchat hotdog :’((((

the entire day was fun and filled with so much laughter that you were sure your day was gonna be 100% l i t

you had dance club meetings that you had to attend but it was mainly dance captain!ong talking about preparations for upcoming events so it was all chill

and eventually by the time you were fully aware, it became evening

so you went to the toilets to change into casual clothes

bc would you really wear a hotdog suit during the evening, or in general public (i mean i would cough)

usually you would have your best friend with you whenever club meetings ended late

but she was absent and all your fellow club mates have gone to dog you so you were basically the only person in the school

you thought of all the horror movies you watched alone and the possibility of them coming true to life

wrong move, you freaked yourself out

what’s even better is that you left the rest of your things in the classroom where the meeting was held

so you walked to that classroom as quickly as possible, already planning to grab your things and jet straight away

bc not today demons. not today. (totes not a bts reference)

but when you entered the classroom, there’s this guy crouching down looking for something

"oH MY GOD! WHAT THE-”

so you let out a yelp and he jumps in shock

the said guy then looks up

and you instantly shut your gaping mouth

cos it’s park woojin

your crush and fellow dance club member

but step aside feelings, he scared the heck outta you and he needs to hear a piece of your mind

“s-sorry! did i scare you??”

you see that worried and overall shook look on his face

aannnnnddd nevermind he’s forgiven

bc it’s okay if he nearly gave you a heart attack, the world is a better place and your entire existence is blessed by park woojin

“no no!” you wave your hand furiously, “it’s okay - i just wasn’t expecting someone in here since i was the last person left. what are you doing here by the way?”

“ah...well, seongwoo hyung told me that he forgot something here and ordered me to get it. so here i am but i can’t seem to find it though.”

with woojin’s presence in the same vicinity as you, you suddenly forget your plan of bolting, “do you need help..?”

“no, it’s getting late and you should go home - i think i can handle; it was just these documents that he placed somewhere.”

you shake your head in return bc you’re a nice human being, “i’ll help you besides it’ll be faster if we look for it together.”

hence the beginning of your search party

and whilst you were both too focus looking here and there

the “wind” slams the door shut

(in actuality someone specifically a guy named ong seongwoo closed the door shut and locked it from the outside)

you run to the door and fumble with the door handle, trying to push it open

“ohmygod ohmygod you can’t be serious- why isn’t the door opening-” you start to panic and woojin instantly comes over gently pushing you aside

he also begins with the same motions as you

and after numerous pushes and kicks, woojin lets out a sigh

“we’re locked in...”

now you start to panic even more and you’re just there trying to calm yourself by taking deep breathes

“i mean, it could be worse right...?” you laugh nervously at him

but jokes on you

bc the moment you said that, all the lights immediately shut

(totally not the work of ong seongwoo)

“n OPE.” you finally say before trying to find your way to the door by touching the handle.

so now you’re just endlessly banging on the door, screaming and yelling; “HELP!! ANYONE??? IS ANYONE THERE?? HELP!!”

the fact that it was dark and you couldn’t see crap made things worse

bc you were petrified and it feels like you’re all alone by yourself - woojin doesn’t seem to be answering and you can’t even figure out where the heck he is

(he has no clue how to deal with you when he’s freaking out himself)

“woojin woojin woojin, we’re gonna die and the ghosts are going to take our souls and and we’ll end up in another universe or something and we’ll be trapped forever.”

there’s no reply

“woojin? oh my god, am i all alone now? park woojin you dog, i swear on my own failing grades-”

then out of nowhere you can faintly see the entire room again and you relax as you see woojin appear in your vision, holding his phone as he keeps the flashlight on

“did you just call me a dog...?”

he’s looking at your face, amused at how you were shedding a few tears and sniffling

you were pretty cute in his eyes

“i didn’t mean to, i panicked and i really don’t know what to do and and i should have gone home like what you said earlier but nooo! my stupid humanitarian ass and my feelings got in the way so i ended up helping you.

i knew i shouldn’t have binged watched all those horror movies last night and oh my god, i don’t even know if i’m breathing; should i breathe? can i breathe?”

you turn your back to him as you try to calm yourself down and there’s complete silence apart from your shaky breaths

and it starts to get him worried bc you look like you’re close to breaking down

so woojin pushes aside all the awkwardness and hesitance that he’s feeling, grabbing your shoulders so you face him

you’re just there sniffling quietly, looking down bc good lord you’re ugly crying rn - this boi shouldn’t be seeing you like this

but he places his hand under your chin and lifts your head lightly

“y/n, look at me.”

you instantly look down and shake your head. “no, shut up i’m crying and it’s ugly; don’t do this to me.”

look at you finding a reason to not give away that you’re a lot more terrified than you look

“please...?”

his plead softens you in less than a second and you slowly oblige to his request, your eyes meeting his.

“you’ll be okay, we’ll be okay, alright? i’m right here, you can trust me.” woojin softly says to you, “take deep breaths and just look at me, forget about everything else.”

surprisingly, you were starting to calm down and seeing that it was working, he flashes you a grin

“see? nothing will go wrong from now and even so, you have me.”

TIME SKIP OF ABOUT THREE HOURS SINCE GETTING LOCKED IN

now you’re just both sitting on the ground, talking comfortably

which is a first time bc you and woojin haven’t really properly talked before this situation

in that short amount of time though, you immediately clicked with him and it’s going great

you’ve gotten a lot more calmer than at the beginning

but only because you’ve been holding his hand

which he initiated, thinking that it could help you

even if it isn’t really a scientifically proven idea

it’s effective though (somewhat)

bc while it calms you down, your heart is also pounding loudly

and you’re just praying really hard that he can’t hear it bc you sure damn well can

it’s now officially midnight

you’re both beginning to yawn

next thing you know, you lean on the wall and you’re knocked out cold

he doesn’t really realise that you’ve fallen asleep until you stop replying to him causing him to turn his head

woojin chuckles gently, “your crying must have tired you out...” he says to your sleeping figure, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face, “i didn’t know you could be unknowingly cute...it’s charming.”

he scoots closer to you, intimate enough that your shoulders were touching

and gently, he places your head on his shoulder so you can sleep a lot more comfortably

asdfghjkl im screeching bye

soon, woojin also drifts off to sleep with your hands still in his and your fingers intertwined.

THE NEXT MORNING

your eyes lift up as the sunlight shines through

wow this certainly ain’t your bed

oh wait-

you instantly become reminded that you were locked in all night

so it wasn’t a dream

and so you whip your head to the left and you see a peaceful woojin sleeping right beside you

surprisingly you’re both still (loosely) holding hands

and the thought that it stayed that way all night makes you blush

woojin flinches a little and eventually is awakened, turning his head to face you

“good morning...” he sleepily says to you, his eyes still closed

“woojin, we slept overnight here.”

“i know...but give me five more minutes.” woojin replies, leaning his head on your shoulder

wowowow who knew an overnight stay in a school would make you two closer than ever

yet as soon as his head lays on your shoulder

the door slams wide open

and enters dance club president, ong seongwoo

“wAKE UP HOES THIS AIN’T A HOTEL.”

he stands in front of you two with a cheeky grin, “but i’m glad you’ve both gotten along really well.”

woojin simply groans, “shut up seongwoo hyung - you trick me by saying you left some dumb document and then lock us in here for your fun and games.”

wait.

“YOU WHAT?” you scream, causing the two boys to jump

seongwoo laughs nervously, “now now, don’t get mad - i was just doing it for the lols and besides, you guys are best friends now, right?”

“oh my god- i had mental breakdowns and i ugly cried in front of my crush just for your lols?! oNG SEONGWOO I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.”

“NOT UNLESS YOU CATCH ME FIRST.”

let’s just say that seongwoo ran faster than he’s ever been

and once he bolted out that door, you instantly followed to hunt his ass down

meanwhile woojin remains in the classroom until he repeats your words and instantly recalls what you also said that last night

“did she just say she likes me??”

#park woojin #woojin #woojin scenarios #woojin imagines #wanna one #wanna one imagines #wanna one scenarios #pd101 #produce 101 #pd101 season 2 #i had to rush this bc i was getting late for halloween #gonna post my wips soon lmao #i hope y'all enjoy this #happy trick or treat i guess lol #totally not whipped for woojin #im being unloyal #much wheezing #v kennot

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subjectsilver · 7 years

Text

5:05 AM on July 23rd

i absoTonight someone got stabbed over a god damn jul pod.

but lets back up

I have been at school for a week.

I needed to get out of columbus... just like old times there was just nothing left for me there i was just killing myself because of how summer went and how i am and shit whatever. it'll be nice to temporarily go back in the winter and spring and even next summer and i can't wait until then but for now i need to not be there. I need school i need distractions i need people - i need people who are my friends but I'm not too close with - distractions are all i need right now so i don't hurt myself.

I came back to Wake and literally the first day i was here i heard 1-800-273-8255 - Logic 3 times by three separate people. Thats a fucking sign if i know it...ive never really heard that song until like that day and now i listen to it every single day...

Everyday i wake up and have running or lifting and i do that in the morning then i just sit and do nothing until playing pick up soccer at night which is kinda shitty bc fuck boredom and fuck routine but its a distraction none the less so its alright with me...

Im destroying my bank account because i have no meal plan so i eat out everyday which is like 10$ a meal cus life is expensive... but at least I'm eating i mean I'm still underweight sitting around 140lbs but I'm not getting any lighter. Tbh i was kind of getting comfortable being skinny because i love the way my baggy t shirts that are too big for me, fall on me when I'm underweight but i know inside i need to get my weight up to be healthy and like sane. but ill get there..i hope - eating as much as i can in hopes to gain weight anyway.

I knew i was forgetting something when i left - well i forgot a lot but least of all i forgot my contact case so i was sleeping in my contacts for like 5 straight days and that shit killed my eyes but i finally got a case so last night was the first time i slept without them and if i sleep tonight it'll feel good as well.

I'm trying to think about what happened this week but nothing really happens during summer school it kinda sucks. I met all the freshman guys and girls and they all seem pretty cool I've been chilling outside with them every night when were done with pick up and shit because i have nothing better to do and i like hearing conversation hearing them all talk and reading all of them. Half of them think I'm crazy because i only sleep like 4 hours a night and because my teammates tell them the stories that are my snapchat stories this summer. It is what it is ya know.

SIDENOTE andre keels is currently telling me about how he went on a date with this girl and he's low-key geeking out and its pretty funny, I'm happy for him he deserves the high that follows being low - i hope i get that eventually.

I had a really low night a couple nights ago where i just sat outside listened to jcole and smoked cigarettes by myself but i got thru it.. it just seems like when I'm doing absolutely nothing my mind takes over and i think about all the things that bother me with life or just life itself. its kinda shitty because it seems like when I'm not distracted its like a struggle to keep living like i don't understand the point of living or being alive or life in general so it confuses me why I'm here but i try not to think about it.

I thought i was a going to quit cigarettes but i literally need them not because I'm addicted but bc its something to do when I'm alone at night by myself... and i should prob get a jul pod or some shit but its so expensive and niggas are getting stabbed over it now and I'm just not about that lmao ........ I'm dying on my own terms if anything.

im not on social media really anymore. i check it every once in a while but very rarely except like writing weekly shit like i am rn or on snapchat. i guess like 5 albums came out or something and i had absolutely no idea. it's alright tho other people fill me in eventually I'm currently listening to tyler the creators new album. Its a lot better than i expected tbh.

“5 car garage....full tank of gass but that don't mean nothing nothing nothing without u in the passenger”

took a little break to smoke a cig - I'm kinda nice at it now and hitting juuls tbh despite my efforts and much coughing in the past I'm finally getting nice. with my luck ill probably get cancer or some shit but thats alright i guess (kanye hands)

anyways down to business aka the most excitement of this week SOMEONE GOT STABBED OVER A FUCKING JUUL POD

thats fucking lit and crazy and so disappointing of humanity but at the same time the greatest thing thats ever happened ever...

actually 2 people got stabbed but one kid got sliced in the finger so like that doesn't even count but the email i got said 2 people stabbed soon i mean i don't make the rules. I was chilling right i played like 2 games of pong and won both (ayeeeee) then i walked into this house and was staring out of a window i actually took a pic but this fight broke out and i turned around and everyone started leaving under the assumption cops would come... so i walked outside and i was trying to account for everyone that was there because DAD FOLDS came out and i was counting everyone and i thought i had it correct but this kid was like where is abby i think she's dead inside like passed out drunk soon despite hearing sirens i ran back inside and checked the house to find that she was not there which was good so i ran outside and started running with this kid named Sam.. so me and sammy for running through yards and bushes and shit but my shoe got caught in a bush (fuck me right) “sam go on without me live on bruv” so sam started running away... i finally got unstuck and i saw like 3 cops chasing sam so i ran the other direction around this building and on the other side i saw 4 cop cars so immediately i dipped into these bushes where i hit my face on a brick wall and copped a gnarly scratch that will not scar which is disappointing... (incase u were wondering go had a black t shirt on and not the usual white so my shit was not stained or anything thank god) so i was laying there for a good 10 seconds and i got on snapchat and scrolled thru the stories for a brief moment when i heard “sir we saw you jump in the bushes please come out” i was like fuckkkk mee so i got out with my hands up cus a nigga not trynna end up like trayvon and i backed up slowly and got handcuffed and then they patted me down found my wallet, luckily found my real ID and then put me in the car... i wait there for a little and scrolled thru snapchat behind my back and then they pulled me out and questioned me. I just claimed ignorance bc i actually didn't really know shit at all... my only lie was that i didn't know the only guy i was running with. Then they just let me go. They asked me why i was running if i didn't do anything and i was like “i wasn't trynna get stabbed and also cops these days shoot black people so i wasn't trying to be shot either” and at some point this cop was like do you have an accent where are u from and i was like uhhhh ohio? but they let me go and i walked back to campus and i saw all these freshman outside and i was like ooo go to bed y'all and we all went to bed.... then i laid there for like 2 hours before going back outside...talked to some people for a while who were out there and then skrrttted off to smoke and music and write..

present time - its 5:48 AM and someone got stabbed over a juulie like 6 hours ago thats wild....................

tomorrow or today technically I'm going to play beer die (a drinking game) [google that shit] at like 3 and then go to a team cook out and chill. should be alright.

this tyler the creator album is actually kinda nice - i actually did find some nice songs on soundcloud tho today i found a really nice piano piece that kinda calms me down in the beginning then slowly gives me anxiety... I've had a lot of anxiety lately

it seems like I'm feeling so much shit now as opposed to being numb and feeling just so dead and all the feeling at once just scares the shit out of me or makes me heart want to explode but its kinda nice to feel shit sometimes... i still have moments days where i feel absolutely nothing but it is what it is...it can't all get better at one time... I've just noticed tho that like everything use to seem weird to me like literally “this is so weird” always went thru my mind but now EVERYTHING is so scary to me like even if I'm not paying attention and someone speaks to me and the sound catches me off guard it makes me jump. its weird - haha

its getting light outside i know i need to sleep because I'm trying to get 8 hours a night even tho it doesn't always happen but I'm trying. last night i laid awake for 2 hours thinking about magic tricks. card tricks that i will eventually try on people...i created my own card tricks in my head... i have zero decks of cards rn tho which is so rare for me never really happens.

anyways - another update will come next sunday and hopefully by then i get stabbed over a juul pod by then.

6:00 AM I FUCKING HATE BUTTERFLIES.

i love you good morning.

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