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#i reread that a few years later and was like uh did not realize there was a whole assault scene...
ventismacchiato · 8 months
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42 behind the lens — curtain call !
epilogue
scaramouche x gender neutral reader
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It’s at the times between recording scenes where you really get a glimpse at your lover.
His sweat stained hair and tear stained cheeks from a rather intense scene never get old. You were feeling rather fond as he made his way over to you, falling into your director’s chair and heaving a heavy breath. The only one other than you allowed to sit in it.
For a mere moment, you both simply look at each other. You guys were on break so a few conversation topics come to mind, it wasn’t often you guys got to speak as lovers rather than coworkers during work. And while they’re all things you’d like to talk to Scaramouche about, you realize you don’t need to force conversation with him.
There’s a hue of weariness that shows in Scara’s eyes, but you can tell that he’s happy. He’s doing what he’s been striving to do for all his years at university, so of course he is.
You search his dark eyes for his thoughts, too. When your eyes meet Scara’s he let’s out a tired smile.
“I missed you,” he easily says. The words come out easier than they would’ve years ago.
Your heart skips a beat, even years later.
“How? We’ve been working together all day,” you say.
“Do I need a reason to miss the person I love?” Scara scoffs, looking away from you to study the script he brought with him.
It isn’t the first time Scaramouche had told you that he loves you, but it’s never stopped holding the same weight it did the first time he’d ever said it.
It’s a rare type of love. The kind that exists so rarely for people in this industry and that lead lives similar to your guys’.
His loves makes you feel alive everyday. And Scara should know it, you should tell him more often—even if it’s rather dramatic for midday on set for their most recent project. It’s something you’d bring up at night that you two could laugh about in bed. Even if it catches Scara off guard.
But Scaramouche’s love caught you off guard, too, and every second you got the privilege to spend with him was a gift.
And as you stare at him, fiddling with the sleeves of his costume and eyebrows scrunched as he mouths his lines, you couldn’t help but feel your heart grow heavy.
“I suppose you don’t,” you reply, a minute too late, but Scara still chuckles at your response as he tosses the script aside.
“What? You’re not going to say it back?” he teases, “And I thought I was the emotionally constipated one.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you mutter, hitting him on the shoulder, “I love you, too. I guess.”
“Archons, you’re worse than me.”
“No, you were much worse when we were younger!”
“It was hot and mysterious when I did it.”
“Uh huh, just go back to set I’m sick of you.”
“Weird way to say you agree but okay.”
“Go!”
.
.
.
୨⎯ THE END ⎯୧
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behind the lens !
masterlist — prev
author’s notes — and that’s a wrap folks! hope the ending wasn’t awkward i just wanted it to be short and sweet. anyway, thank u to everyone who read and kept up with this fic, means a lot to me that this blew up as it was smth i wrote for myself. if ur rereading this or are a reader in the future ty to you too! i appreciate the silent readers, anons, and ppl who left me sm cute comments and reblogs. u guys made writing it more fun and easier to ignore the not so nice ppl. i cant reply to everyone but just know i do read every ask and comment i get! i do hope to see u guys in my notifs in the future even if i don’t write for genshin anymore, but if not then i’m glad you gave my writing a chance <3 have a great day/night byebye
synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?
taglist — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]
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tmntxthings · 8 months
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∑一 Loser ・゜・。
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author’s note: again, this song just kinda sounded like Leo, nonchalant-yet-cares-way-too-much-than-you-actually-think, p.s. i totally wrote this without rereading some major mistakes are in there I’m sure… but we post anyways 😌 I’ll come back and fix things later
warnings: unedited, maybe one curse word, playboy!leo, aged-up, angst
word association: losing, failure, doubt, fake confidence, drunken day-dreams, falling, pining, realization, indifference, ignorance, obsession
song inspired: “ Roommates by Malcolm Todd ”
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Leonardo was never really one to worry. As a ninja master he was confident in his skills, even more so than when he was a teenager if that was even fathomable. He had wit, he could think quickly on his feet, plans could be formed at a whim. So worry? Maybe if the Kraang decided to show their bubblegum pink faces again! But even then he was sure he could beat them, ya know since he has already done it before!
He was self assured and cocky. Ever since that one slip up he made sure he never had another reason to worry. He didn’t mess around when it came to missions. So afterwards when it was a success he could gloat and showboat all he pleased much to his brother’s aggravation. He never had to worry about admirers either. They were a sure thing. What can he say? All it takes is a little charisma and devilishly handsome looks! Plus he was hilarious and confident so winning anyone over with a sly wink and charming smile was easyyy. You had been too easy!
He ate it up. All the compliments and obvious blushes to his smooth flirting. It all just stroked that big ego of his. You hadn’t strayed either, all it took was a phone call and a portal over and you were putty in his hands. So maybe Leo had gotten a little careless, thinking you would always be there. To always be chasing after him. And if you wavered under the long absences and ignored messages it could be quickly resolved with a few placating “sorry’s” and distracting kisses.
But this time, it seemed you weren’t answering. It had been about three days now. One call from him each day. Usually he was met with enthusiasm and swoons when he called. You lapped up any attention he threw at you like his own little puppy. So after he listened to your voicemail for the third time he decided a little check-in was in order. He may have been worried about your safety. Maybe. But most likely Leo wondered if his little puppy was pouting again. Surely you couldn’t hold out if he saw you face to face. Leo smirked at the prospect of you playing hard to get only to crumble once he got your chin between his fingers, tilting that pretty face up to meet his own filled with smug finesse.
So when he portal-ed over to your place he was more than surprised to knock on the door and find someone else answer. “Uh, who’re you?” Leo said with an obvious disdainful one-over, raised brow bones and all. You never had people over. And if you did it was family or all the close friends he knew of. Never someone half decent to look at… not to say that this guy was even on the same level as Leo’s visuals. Definitely not.
He was met with a silent and confused stare. “Uhhhhh” taking in Leo’s mutant turtleness, like mutants hadn’t been out and about for years since the Kraang invasion. “Great question actually, who’re you???” The human stammered when he finally found his words. Leo was quickly losing interest here so he pushed past the human easily enough, and talked over his startled complaints, “Hey you can’t just—“
“Y/n? Where ya at princess?? Hiding from me?” He called out through the apartment. Surely this was a set up he thought as he walked to the kitchen and then to the hallway that led to your bedroom. Finding everything looking very very different. It had him slowing and taking in his surroundings more carefully. Where was your furniture?? Had you gotten a better job? All this stuff looked so new! “HEY!” The earlier human yelled, getting back in front of Leo and cutting him off to your room. “Listen buddy I think you’ve got the wrong house!” He said in warning. Leo couldn’t stop from snorting, this guy was even puffing up his chest! Did he really think he could take Leo on? Or were the twin odachis behind his shell not intimidating enough? “Look ‘buddy’” Leo air-quoted sarcastically, “I don’t know if you know this but me and Y/n are veryyy close. I’ve got the right place.”
“Y/n does not live here bro.”
“Oh now we’re resorting to lying?” Leo laughed out loud as his arms moved faster than this loser could blink. Quickly creating a portal behind his shell and stepping back into it, only to now be in…
Not Y/n’s room.
The pictures were gone. It wasn’t as cutesy anymore. No traces of his things. No traces of you either! Leo’s nostrils flared as that sinking feeling of worry settled firmly in his chest. What the fuck was going on? Your smell. It was no longer here. Why had that taken him so long to realize?? He turned and opened the door, finding the boring human looking wildly around the hallway at his disappearance. “Where’re they?” His tone was more serious now.
It seemed the stranger hadn’t heard the door open because he leaped up in fright. “Jesus fucking chr—“
Leo’s head ticked to the side and brought out a sword once more. His patience wearing thin as well as his worry. It was a suffocating feeling that only reminded himself of ‘the mistake’ all those years ago. With the silence hanging over them now that one sword was out to play, Leo said, “Answer, the fucking question.” Quite plainly. The stranger’s eyes had turned wide and fearful, frozen in place and only started stammering when Leo’s blade neared closer.
“I don’t even know a Y/n man!!” The guy was shaking but that wasn’t really the answer Leo was looking for. In fact that gave him nothing but more questions. “They lived here. In this apartment. It’s only been…”
Leo thought back to the last time he was over… it couldn’t have been more than a month..or two… Irritation rising, Leo admitted, “like a month or so!” That was all it took for the shaking to stop. In fact the dude even had the audacity to laugh. “Close huh? Well I moved in here around two and a half months ago. Guess they didn’t tell you about that!”
Surely you wouldn’t… why would you not have told him something like that!? This guy was lying. But what had you last said to him??? Was it something important? Something like this?? He had to wine and dine you then, had you been really angry? He vaguely remembered the whole meeting being a fight in the beginning. But as always he had softened you up. “Maybe they’re more upset than I thought..” Leo murmured more to himself than the block of a person in front of him. But it spoke up anyway, “Can you get out of my house now??”
“Where’d they go?” Leo’s eyes narrowed in question not moving an inch. “Man I don’t know! I’m just renting this place” He shrugged, rolling his eyes. “Right, thanks for the help.” Leo grumped and then had a sudden thought. His eyes gleaming wickedly as he brought out both swords menacingly. “Uh wait, I’m serious I don’t know anything dude! Please!” He spoke faster and faster backing up as Leo approached and then lunged forward.
He flinched, closing his eyes and missing Leo portal out of there. Standing with bated breath only to slowly open his eyes and see no one in his apartment now. He went to sleep with one eye open that night.
Leo on the other hand was now on the roof, phone in hand as he scoured social medias for any clue of your whereabouts. Sure enough, you had pictures of moving out. Big smiles and sweaty foreheads from you and your friends in silly pictures with your couch moved down all those flights of stairs. Absentmindedly he wondered why you hadn’t asked for his help, one portal would’ve been simple enough. Hmph. Something was up!
He couldn’t figure out where your new place was now just from random photos posted online. But your location was still turned on in a certain app. The movie theater with a couple of your friends! Looks like he’d be crashing in, but surely heroes didn’t need to pay to get in right?
After portal-ing into seven other dark rooms. Searching the crowd from the back, row for row. It took him a few more tries until he finally portal-ed into the right theater room. He had spotted your friends first. One was always dying their hair crazy colors and from the pictures online the latest was neon purple. It reminded him of a bitch named Kendra so Leo held distaste for the color. You weren’t exactly sitting side by side with your friends, but a row below with one person beside you. Making the seat on the other side of you open. Almost like it was fate for him to sit next to you. The movie has everyone’s attention snagged so he mozied his way down the stairs on foot. Having portal-ed at the top of the rows and slid into the seat next to you as the movie hit a dark scene.
Leo paid attention to the movie. Horror. Which was surprising because you hated that genre. Or at least he thought you did. After a couple of minutes he finally glanced over, his gaze starting at your legs which were squeezing together in your seat. You looked tense, he wondered if that was because of him or the movie. When his eyes finally reached your face and then your own, he was met with a hard solemn look. It had him blinking in surprise. So that answered his question. Definitely because of him. The look threw him off for sure but seconds later an easy-going smile found his features as he translated a carefree sorry slash greeting.
Your lips scowled, though the sound was lost underneath the blaring all-around speakers currently screaming due to a jump scare on the characters. Then as if that wasn’t enough, your whole body shifted away from his, away from his seat, to the person next to you as your eyes went back to the screen. Leo huffed, this wouldn’t be a simple smile and swoon then! The blue turtle leaned heavily across the armrest, taking up as much space as possible. His eyes went back to the screen too seeing how long it would take you to stop ignoring him. He felt metaphorically daggers being thrown his way, from above where your friends sat and you too when you tried to sneak in glances his way. It wasn’t as often as he would’ve liked. It seemed your attention was also occupied with the movie and then person on your other side, someone Leo didn’t recognize.
It was a day full of things like that for Leo and it annoyed him. This whole situation did. He wanted to talk to you. To find out what was going on and why you weren’t calling or messaging him! Or even just answering his calls! But no he had to portal in almost every theater room to finally find you and then wait even longer to get some answers. It was eating away at the crumbs of his leftover patience. So when the credits finally started rolling Leo spoke up so those nearby could hear, “We’ll be right back~!” And no later had he grabbed your hand and pulled you into the portal, following after him.
Boy were you angry! Didn’t matter that he had brought you up to Empire State Building. “Take me back Leo!” It was all you kept saying. Even when he asked you what was going on! He asked why you hadn’t answered his calls or told him about you moving. You ignored everything he said. “Princess please, I’m confused over here!” He pleaded and you hissed at the nickname. “Just stop. Take me back. You don’t deserve to know anything about me!”
That had given him a little more insight. “Okay okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry okay?” You shook. Physically shook with anger and that sinking feeling returned. “You don’t even know why you’re apologizing.” You spat. And he moved into your space. If words weren’t going to work he’d try a another approach. One that worked just as well if not better. “But I’m doing it anyway, cause that’s just how sorry I am babe!” His hands finding yours. “No!”
You ripped your hands away from his touch. You didn’t sink into his touch, calm under his fingertips. It was like a slap to the face. “You don’t just get to say pretty words anymore Leo. You don’t get to just caress all my feelings away! You don’t get to just march into my life when you want! You don’t get to act like you care about me!!”
Was that what he was doing? The worry turned to guilt. Though you weren’t sad, you were just angry. Angry that he had randomly popped up again at his own whims to fulfill his own needs. “That’s fair… so tired of our little game then?” Leo smiled. He smiled through a dull sort of pain, a fake one that he had mastered a while ago. You sighed, shaking your head at him. “It might’ve been a game to you, but my feelings were real. I was never playing Leo.”
Silence hung over the two of you as the wind picked up from the height of such a mighty building. “Right then.” Leo murmured. Staring off into the night, the twinkling lights from the building below turning into hazy far-away circles. “Portal me back.” You repeated. “Of course Princess” You cringed at the use of the nickname once more. He swiped open a portal and gestured for you to go first, his hand finding your back as it closed. He hardly had felt you before the feeling was gone completely. You were gone, back where you wanted to be. And he was left, confused.
How long had you been with him. Admiring, pining, flirting..? How long had he been stringing you along? He couldn’t seem to remember. So he stayed on there on top of the tallest building. Sighing deeply before shrugging it all off and deciding a new batch of admirers was just what he needed! A distraction from losing you. It wasn’t every day someone was crossed off his list! But it seemed you were done with him completely and he wasn’t in the habit of forcing anyone to have a fun time.
But as he went to his regular bars, clubs, restaurants he didn’t feel smug as he turned heads. He didn’t feel happy as he was approached and flirted with. No matter how many times he went out, danced, or drank til he couldn’t think straight. He even tried finding someone like you. Someone similar! Someone who had your personality. Someone who looked close to you. But they weren’t you. It was getting desperate and weird at this point. Even drunk he wasn’t happy. Which led to the drunken thoughts of you as he realized he missed you.
Had started missing you ever since he realized your attention was no longer on him. He blamed it on the alcohol as he pictured your apartment. Not filled with some stranger. But of you and him. A shared apartment with Leo. It was a shared room instead of just yours. It was his bed too. Surely it was drunken thoughts to want to commit like that. He’d never done such a thing before. But with you… at least Drunk Leo wanted an apartment, a room, and a bed with you. His mask scrunched up around his brows thinking about how he had lost you.
He hated losing people. He wasn’t a loser. But how was he to convince you now that he had exhausted all possibilities. Was he a changed turtle? Did he really want to settle down? Or was this just because he had lost a favorite toy… a favorite person? Or was his type the ones playing hard to get?
Guess he’d have to find out. So after weeks of playing around and trying to fill a hole that only had gotten bigger with time Leo decided it was time to really try.
So he portal-ed again off to apologize genuinely this time. And beg on his knees if he had to with arms full of thoughtful gifts if it would give him a second chance. And if that still wasn’t good enough he was going to stick around for quite some time because he had a pretty thick skull. You’d have to reject him plenty so it would get through his head! Because it seemed even someone like you wouldn’t do. It had to be you, so he was going to win you back one way or another.
Because if Leo was one thing, he was definitely not a loser.
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nothewraith · 3 years
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oh thats your comfort book? funny. i have books i tore apart in middle school independent reading assignments
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rin-itoshi · 3 years
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mc’s departure | obey me
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summary: how the brothers would react to MC returning to the human world after a year in the devildom
contains: fluff , angst , ?!!!!&;@;&:idk
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♯ LUCIFER
he’s the one to see you off, reminding you of the many things he had taught you so that you’d never forget.
his pride is much too large to admit that he will miss you to death and that he loves you dearly.
after you’re gone, he’s gone for hours at a time, holed up in his room with as much as work as he can take on.
he overworks himself with the intention of getting rid of the heavy emotion on his heart.
everything reminds you of him, even the paper clip on his desk that you had once found under his bed.
he gets easily irritable, feeling rather empty now that you’ve gone and left him alone in this now quiet house.
barely leaves his room, only works.
never cries but gets quite emotional when he finds a belonging you left behind.
♯ MAMMON
he cried every single night up until your departure but never showed you that side of him once
after you left, he cried non-stop, not caring if he looked like a cry baby in front of his brother’s who watched him with pitiful eyes.
once his eyes dried up, he soon never returned home as he partied all day and night.
he forced himself to attend parties after parties in order to forget about you.
it never works because everything reminds him of you.
sometimes he sits in his car and just stares into space, wondering what you’re doing now that you’re back on earth.
literally cannot stand the mention of you or your name or he may break down.
pretends to be okay but can’t go a day without getting upset about your absence.
money soon becomes pointless when he realizes no amount of cash will bring you back to the house of lamentation.
♯ LEVIATHAN
curled up in his bath tub and cried himself to sleep.
stopped leaving his room in general, continuously playing games all day and night.
couldn’t look at his ruri-chan figures because they somehow reminded him of you and how much you used to admire them with him.
every inch of his room has your touch on it and it makes his heart ache painfully.
struggles to attend online school but manages to make it through the day by zoning out in class.
claims he doesn’t care about a normie like you but genuinely misses you
sends you messages, forgetting you can no longer contact him without your D.D.D
writes about how much he misses you on his blog fully aware you’ll never see it.
♯ SATAN
reading. that’s all he does.
he hides in his room and reads every single book he has stacked up along his room, even rereading them if he finished everything.
uses books to get his mind off of you—or more so the lack of you.
will sometimes get excited about a stray cat he sees but stops himself when he realizes he can’t tell you because you aren’t here.
gets angry. a lot.
the smallest things set him off and he can longer feign a smile when he hears your name or anything related to you.
he misses you so much that he wants to tear out his hair and rip apart all these book page by page.
his room is in shambles and he can’t seem to think straight anymore.
♯ ASMODEUS
loses his interest in everything.
forgets his skin care routine and lets himself go without caring about it.
forces himself to go to parties and tries to sleep with someone to feel better but when it fails, he stops sleeping around in general.
like mammon, he doesn’t come home often to avoid seeing the house he had lived in with you happily.
cannot forget about you no matter what he does, and that frustrates him the most.
wishes he had done something to stop you or at least slept beside you one last time.
neglects himself for a while.
♯ BEELZEBUB
poor bby isn’t hungry for once.
can’t seem to eat now that you’re not sitting beside him, giggling about something he had said.
spends a lot of his time doing weight training and exercising to get his mind off of you.
misses all the meals you used to make on the nights you were in charge of cooking.
sometimes forgets you’re not around whenever he’s about to go downstairs to eat dinner.
clings to belphie in hopes to fill the gap in his heart.
accidentally broke down your room door in an angry fit when your absence finally set in.
♯ BELPHEGOR
either he sleeps even more or somehow gets less sleep.
no matter what, he feels sluggish and blank.
locks himself in the attic, almost as if he was never released in the first place.
even though he hated humans, your absence affected him the most after he had grown to love you as a human.
nearly went demon mode on diavolo when he found out that you were being sent back to the human world.
partially wishes he never met you but cherishes his memories with you too much to ever wish for that wholeheartedly.
sleeps in your bed often to hold onto your lingering scent that was fading quickly.
complains to beel that you were nothing but a stupid human who turns their backs on demons like them, but he never means anything he says.
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“Why is it so quiet in here?” Diavolo asks as he opens the front door of the House of Lamentation with Barbatos at his side. The man’s golden eyes scanned the entry hall, noticing how it was so eerily dark and quiet that it almost felt like something out of a horror movie. It felt like no one had lived here in over two thousand years. “Hello?”
Upon receiving message from Diavolo, everyone had exited their rooms for the first time in a while, looking like they were dragged through the mud. The state they were in made Diavolo jump with surprise, shocked to find that even Lucifer looked like he was ill. “What happened to you guys?!”
“What is it that you need, Lord Diavolo?” Lucifer asked as he ran a hand through his hair to compose himself a bit in front of the red haired man. “If is nothing important, may I kindly ask you to leave and return another time?”
Diavolo sighed, shaking his head lightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what’s up with you guys, but I brought everyone’s favorite person along with me so sing your praises now!”
Mammon huffed, “If ya’ talking about that butler of yours, ain’t nobody care right now! We got bigger things to worry about!”
Barbatos simply smiled, taking no offense to the sly insult thrown his way.
Diavolo cocked a brow in confusion. “What? Of course not! It’s-“
The person stepped out from behind Diavolo, catching the attention of every single male in the room. The seven brother’s choked, staring at the one person they had longed for these past few days.
“[y/n]!” They shouted in unison, practically flying down the stairs to get to you. Mammon was the first to reach you, wrapping his arms around your entire body as he tackled you to the floor. The other brother’s climbed on top of you two, hugging you so tightly that you feared this would be where you’d die. “You’re back!”
Diavolo chuckled boisterously. “This is amusing! You lot are acting like you didn’t know they’d return today!” His laugh came to an abrupt stop when he saw the flat expressions coming from each and every brother. “Oh- Did I not inform you?”
“Obviously you didn’t.” Belphegor scoffed with a roll of the eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. “[y/n]...”
“Ya can’t ever leave again! I’ll seriously get angry at ya if this happens again! Ya either go to the human world with me or ya don’t go at all!” Mammon snapped, cupping your cheeks while getting dangerously close to your face to yell at you.
“I’ll severely punish you if you ever leave this manor without giving me a heads up as to where you’re off to. You’re not just an exchange student anymore. You’re special.” Lucifer explained, a panicked glint in his tired eyes as he reached out to pat your head gently with his gloved hand.
Satan sighed, pressing his forehead against your back. “If you leave again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control my emotions, so don’t leave.”
The avatar of lust whined loudly, “my beautiful self can’t handle a life without you! Don’t ever go anywhere without me again!” He clutched onto her waist tightly.
“Don’t... Don’t go anywhere.” Leviathan said with a sad frown on his lips as he held your hand, bringing it up to rest against his cheek. “It’s so empty without you.”
“Let’s eat dinner together, [y/n].” Beel suggested, his voice full of emotions as he drooled at the thought of dinner with you.
A million emotions ran through your veins as you sat there, basking in the warmth of their touch. It was overwhelming to receive so much love all at once but it was amazing.
A smile slowly crept onto your lips as you leaned into their touch, enjoying the way they clung to you as if you’d disappear any moment now. “I missed you guys, too.”
“What a lovely reunion!” Diavolo exclaimed happily, snapping a view blurry photos on his D.D.D to send to the group chat later.
After the heartfelt moment, they quickly disappeared upstairs to fix up their appearance before rushing downstairs to the kitchen where you stood. They clung to you like bugs to a light, hounding you about your sudden departure, only to find out that you had gone up there with Diavolo and Barbatos to help the man experience human world activities he had never gotten to try before. Diavolo was sure he had told them that but seeing as they were genuinely distressed, he assumed the message never reached.
Even though they were beyond pissed with Diavolo and his carelessness, they were just glad you were back. Them being here with you really was their idea of a perfect life.
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a/n: UH YEA K GOODNIGHT
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vroomvroomkachowboi · 3 years
Text
The Missing Rat
smut, angst, fluff: fluff
pairing: ron weasley x reader(fem)
word count: 709
summary: 3rd year ron blames hermione for scabbers dissapearance, but you ended up finding the rat and giving it back to ron, now he can’t keep his eyes off of you (I kinda imagine a hufflepuff reader but it never mentions a house) 
warnings: none ig
a/n: I'm so sorry that I've been gone for so long, I just literally no idea what to write abt, like I was DYING to write something, couldn’t think of anything, but I’m currently rereading POA and thought of this, it’s not much but it’ll do. not done with the book btw so if I get anything wrote, sorry
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Harry thought this was the end of Ron and Hermione’s friendship. Hermione refused to believe all evidence pointed to Crookshanks, her cat. And both of them refused to apologize. 
Y/n was in the kitchen one day, helping out the house elves when she heard a faint squeak coming from one of the dirty pots. Brows furrowed in confusion, she hesitantly walked over to the pots, and looked to find a grey rat, with thin hair and a missing finger eating leftover rice pudding. 
The rat struggled a bit when Y/n picked him up, she knew she couldn’t keep the rat in the kitchen, so she placed it in her pocket until she left the kitchen. 
She ran to her common room, and made a little bed out of her dirty laundry for the rat, and placed it on the “bed”, the rat snuggled himself, let out a big sigh and shut his eyes. Y/n pet the rat on the top of his head. 
Y/n had spent plenty of time with the rat, and ended up naming him Derek, spent hours in the library trying to fix his thinning fur, although, nothing seemed to work, she still cared for him the same. 
Everything seems swell until, an orange, mangy cat strolled right past Y/n and Derek, and the rat hopped out of Y/n’s hands and ran at the speed of lightning. “Derek! Derek, no!” Y/n yelled out, and ran after Derek. 
Y/n had ran all the way to Hagrid’s Hut. She panted, and knocked at the door furiously. “Hagrid!” The door swung open, and Hagrid looked miserable. She planned to question him later, and asked instead, “Hagrid, my rat just ran away. Have you seen him?” He let her in, and it turns out that there was three Gryffindor students looking sad as well. “Sorry, Y/n. I haven’t seen a rat anywhere.” the gamekeeper says. 
Her eyes glanced down to the floor, looking around to find little Derek, and there he was, behind Hagrid’s giant foot. “Ah ha! There he is.” She kneeled down to grab him. 
“Hey that’s Scabbers!” Says the red-headed boy. “You found him.” Y/n gave him a look. “Scabbers? This is Derek. Found him a few weeks ago.” He nodded happily. “Yeah, Scabbers ran away a few weeks ago.” 
Y/n realized that the story lined up, she made Scabbers face her and said, “Well I guess this is goodbye Derek.” She pet Scabbers’ little head and hesitantly handed it to the boy and walked out. 
A few days later, Ron had seen Y/n everywhere. The Great Hall, during class changes, the library, and classes. Although, Scabbers wasn't who he though he was, Ron admired Y/n for taking care of a lost rat and making him feel loved. Ron admired Y/n’s good-naturedness and realized how pure her heart was. 
Harry and Hermione were constantly teasing him for his wandering eyes. Ron had denied it, but neither of them were convinced. 
It wasn’t until the very last day at school that they met again. 
“Oof!” They said as they bumped into each other. Y/n smiled at him, and Ron looked nervous. “Hi.” She greeted, and he did the same. “How’s ‘Scabbers’?” She rolled her eyes playfully. Ron chuckled but looked down. “I-uhh lost him again?” He said, although it sounded more like a question. She eyed him before deciding not to question him. “Damn, I liked that rat too.” They chuckled once more before looking at each other awkwardly. 
“I never got your name.” Ron says quickly. “Y/n. Yours?” 
“Ron.” She grins at him. “Well, I’ll see you next year, Ron.” She begins to walk away from him. “Uh- WAIT! Uhh, I mean, uhh...” She turns back around to Ron, who’s face was as red as his hair. She walks closer to him. Ron looks down at her, and he can’t help but stutter. 
“Is there something else you’d like to say to me, Ron?” She smirks. Ron seemed to think she knew what was happening. “I would like to get to know you more.” He spits out. She nods. “So would I.” She says. “We can meet up before the last feast of the year. Can you meet me by the kitchen’s painting?” 
“Yeah, see you then.” 
171 notes · View notes
electricbarnes · 3 years
Text
tell me you still see me
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steve rogers x reader
summary: steve has been working a lot lately. you begin to have doubts about your relationship.
↳ songs i listened to for inspiration 
wc: 5.9k | warnings: some angst, overthinking, self-doubt, implied smut 
note: this is a repost from my old account that was deleted. so if it’s familiar, that’s why! i wasn’t planning on reposting but i read it over and decided why not. i have another steve fic that i’m almost done with, so i wanted to post this in the meantime. i made a few minor edits. i hope you like it! and if you decide to reread it, thank you x1000 !!
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You arrive at your apartment, hands filled with groceries for the week. You struggle to open the door with the many bags on your arms, but eventually make it inside. You kick off your heels and set the bags down on the kitchen counter. After freeing your hands, you reach into your purse to find your phone. You unlock it and tap on the first name at the top of your recent calls.
The phone rings for a bit before you hear the sound of your boyfriend’s voice saying “Hello”.
“Oh my god Steve, you’re never gonna believe what I saw at the store just now,” you say, thinking of the wild thing you witnessed during your shopping trip. It’s not everyday that you see someone throw themselves into a cereal box display. It was a hilarious sight and you just wanted to tell someone about it.
“So, I was just strolling through the isles looking for some snacks when a-” you’re cut off before getting too into the story.
“Honey, can this wait? I’m about to go into a mission briefing,” Steve says in a hushed tone. Immediately, you feel guilty for interrupting him while he’s busy. It was well into the evening and you had assumed he wouldn’t be working.  
“Oh, uh yeah of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” you apologize.
“That’s okay,” he reassures you, “I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, talk to you later then.”
The phone beeps, indicating the call was over. You sigh and go back to the task of putting your groceries away.
You decide to lounge around the rest of the day, trading your work clothes for some comfy sweats and a tee shirt. You spend the night mindlessly scrolling through social media while reruns of some sitcom play on the tv. You even send Steve a few memes here and there. You’re not really sure if he’ll understand them but they reminded you of him.
After eating a late dinner, you channel surf for a bit before putting on a random movie. When the movie finishes, it’s nearly 11pm and you realize that Steve hasn’t called you back. You pick up your phone, tempted to call him but decide it’s better to wait till tomorrow. He hasn’t replied to your texts, so there’s a chance he’s still busy despite the late hour.
Unfortunately for you, being a superhero is a full time job, which means that Steve can be busy at any moment of any day. You knew this going into a relationship with thee Captain America. To be fair though, you didn’t think you’d actually get to know the super soldier like you do now.  
When you met Steve, he was just some handsome guy at the park who helped you with directions when you were visibly lost. You ended up seeing him at the park again a couple days later. Recognizing you, he stopped and asked if you wanted to get a coffee. Who were you to deny this man?
You spent two hours in a café getting to know each other before exchanging numbers. In hindsight, his vague answers about his career were a little suspicious. It wasn’t until you went home that night and saw a picture of Steve in a tweet captioned “idc that captain america is like 100 yrs old, he can still get it 😍”.
Needless to say, you were shocked. While you were feeling dumb for not recognizing him sooner, you also wondered why he didn’t say anything. After an awkward confrontation about the subject, he explained how he didn’t want you to go out with him just because he was Captain America. You were quick to ease his worries and reassure him that you were interested in Steve for Steve, not for his heroic persona.
Since then, your relationship with Steve has been nothing but amazing. He was always so sweet with you, taking you on simple but romantic dates. There was something about that 40s charm that was so endearing. You loved the small things, like how he would always open the door for you or how he would bring you flowers on each date. It was so easy to talk to him about anything and everything. You felt like he was not only your boyfriend, but also your best friend.
There were times where you wondered why he ever picked you, an average person compared to the super people he’d work with everyday. He could’ve had anyone he wanted. Steve would say that you were like his sanctuary from the hectic world of being an Avenger. It meant a lot to you that you could be that person for him. You thought he deserved some peace after everything he’s been through. He wanted to protect you from the evil that inherently came with the job, which you understood, so he rarely spoke about the missions he’d go on. The less you knew the better. Though sometimes, you would wish he’d open up more about what was going on while he was away. Especially since he would be gone for days on end.
It was only a month into your relationship that you realized how hard it’d be when he would leave to be Captain America. It was his first time leaving for a mission that lasted longer than a day. He had to spend a week in some place on the other side of the world with no way of contacting him. Of course, you were worried the entire time he was gone. Despite trying to distract yourself with work and personal tasks, Steve was always at the forefront of your mind.
You had never felt such relief than the day he called you after a whole week of silence. Steve had even asked you shyly if he could come over that night. You felt butterflies in your stomach when he told you that he needed to see you. It was the first time he had spent the night at your place. Having Steve’s arms wrapped around you the entire night just felt right. You knew as early as then that you loved him.
Over the year that you had been together, those long missions became easier to manage. You’d always trust that he’d come back to you in one piece. Steve would sometimes feel guilty about being away for so long that he’d try to make it up to you by taking you on an extraordinary date. But you always assured him that you were happy to just be with him, even if it was just something like the two of you watching a movie at your place.
Lately, Steve has been more distant with you. You’ve chalked it up to the fact that there’s a literal distance between you two since he’s moved upstate to the newly built Avengers compound. Before, he was just a short drive away from the Avengers tower to your apartment. Now, he’s hours away from you. There were discussions of you moving in with him, but your job was in the city and you couldn’t leave that behind.
You both decided to make the best of the situation, calling and texting whenever possible. FaceTiming was the usual occurrence throughout the week, often before bed. You’d tell him about your day in the office and he’d tell you about the new recruits he would train. On the weekends, he’d stay over at your place. It was rare that you’d stay at the compound. Steve said he’d preferred your apartment, claiming it was homier than the compound. Plus, you’d actually have some privacy.
For a long time, it had been a good system. You love Steve and did anything to make the relationship work because he’s worth it. Yet, you couldn’t help the lonely nights where you wondered if he felt the same.
Calls were less frequent. Texts were unanswered. Weekend plans were cancelled because Steve would be assigned to missions during those days. You’d understand, of course. He’s out there saving people! You can’t fault him for that, but it doesn’t stop you from missing him.
Now, it had been almost two weeks since you’d last seen him in person. You had texted him throughout the day, but texting wasn’t his favorite thing. Texts were usually reserved for quick check-ins and reminders of I love you’s. He preferred calling and you did too, hearing his voice was much better.
After learning that he had been back from a short mission, you texted him.
You: FaceTime later? ☺️
You were eager to see him, even if it was through a screen. You were just hoping he had the time.
Steve ♡: Sure.
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Later that night, you sat on your bed with your laptop, opening up FaceTime. After a few rings, Steve’s face appears on the screen. A smile immediately breaks out on your face.
“Hi babe!” you say cheerily, finally getting to see your boyfriend after what felt like forever.
“Hi honey,” he says with a soft smile.
Your smile dims a bit, eyebrows furrowing when you recognize the background. “Are you still in your office?” It was pretty late and you assumed he’d be in bed by now.
“Yeah, I was finishing up on some mission reports,” he explains, shuffling some papers on his desk.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you’d be done by now,” you apologize, recalling the last time you had interrupted him from his work.
“No, no” he waves his hand, “I thought I’d be done by now too, but it’s a lot more than I expected.”
You frown at the thought of your boyfriend overworking himself. You want to ask him about it, but you know he’ll say what he always does when you ask about his missions: It’s classified.
“You’re not stressing yourself out too much, are you Steve?” you ask, concern evident in your voice. Even through the hazy quality of the webcam, you can see the tired look in his eyes.
“Never,” he says with a smirk.
“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” you say with a teasing tone.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about honey,” he reassures you. “Besides, I wanna know what you’ve been up to.”
You scoff, “well, it’s definitely not nearly exciting as your week must’ve been.”
“I still wanna know,” he says with that boyish grin you love.
Steve always knew how to make those butterflies appear. You end up telling him about the incident you witnessed at the store which makes him laugh as he imagines the odd sight. He tells you about a prank Tony pulled on him and Sam and you beg him to send you the recording of it. He refuses, but you know you’ll get your hands on the footage eventually. Things felt normal again, just talking to him.
“So I was mixing the dough and halfway through I realized I completely forgot about the eggs,” you were in the middle of telling him about the new recipe you ended up ruining earlier this week.
Steve hums in response. You notice him looking to the side, not looking at the screen and you hear the sound of typing.
“and then a blue monster broke into my apartment,” you make up in an attempt to get his attention.
“Mhmm”
“and he stole all the cookies,” you continue.
“Hmm”
“Steve,”
Silence.
“Steve,” you say with a little more force.
“Huh?” he finally looks up at the screen.
“You’re not listening to me,” disappointment laces your voice.
“I was,” he quickly defends but you don’t buy it.
“Uh huh,” you cross your arms and lean back against your headboard. “What was I talking about?”
Steve glances elsewhere, not meeting your eyes when he mumbles “something about a party?”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “yeah, like 10 minutes ago.”
“I’m sorry honey, I was listening, really… but these reports need to be done,” he says with an apologetic look on his face.
You couldn’t stay mad at him, but you did feel hurt that he would pretend to listen rather than just telling you something.
“Okay,” you sigh. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
He must notice the disappointment on your face because he apologizes once more.
“I’ll make it up to you honey,” he promises.
“Are you coming this weekend?” you ask hopefully. He couldn’t come last weekend and you were missing him terribly.
“Of course,” he gives you a tired smile that you return.
“Okay, finish those reports and get some sleep,” you instruct, emphasizing the last part.
“Yes ma’am,” he raises his hand, mock saluting you which makes you giggle.
“Goodnight Stevie, I love you,”
“Love you too sweetheart”
The call ends and you go to bed with a smile on your face.
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The rest of the week goes by quickly. You’re excited to get to the weekend because that means you can finally see your boyfriend, in person! Not just behind some screen. It’s been almost three weeks since the last time he came over and you miss his touch.
It was Friday afternoon and you were sitting at a small table in the cafe you frequent, taking a lunch break. Halfway through your break, you got a call from Steve. You were a little surprised to see his picture pop up on your phone since you’re usually the one to call him. Nevertheless, you smiled and answered “Hi babe.”
“Hey honey,” he greets.
“I’m glad you called, I was thinking of picking up a few things from the store after work today. Do you need anything?”
“Uh… about that,” he says in a low voice. Your heart immediately sinks, already knowing what he’s going to say next.
“You’re not coming.” A statement, not a question.
“I’m sorry honey. A mission came up and we leave tonight,” he explains and you almost want to laugh. Of course he’s leaving again.
“How long?” you ask. Maybe it’s just for a day and he can still come on Saturday or even Sunday.
“Two days… maybe three,”
You take a moment to process his words. Part of you saw this coming. It seemed too good to be true that you’d finally have him all to yourself. You glance up, trying to fight the sudden feeling of tears in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in the middle of a busy café.
“There’s… there isn’t a chance you can skip this one?” you hesitantly ask. Normally, you’d just accept it, but your patience was running thin. This is the second time in a row he’s cancelled on you.
“You know I can’t. This is important,” he says it so sternly, like he doesn’t realize he’s breaking your heart. The missions are always important. More important than you.
“Yeah, but you’ve been working nonstop. I mean, don’t you want a break? Aren’t there others who can go instead?” you argue, voice raising.
“Y/N, I’m going. I have to,” he insists, leaving no room for an argument. You knew how stubborn Steve could be, so you knew he wasn’t going to change his mind on this. Rationally, you knew he probably had no choice in the matter but you took a chance anyways.
“Okay,” you relent.
You can hear Steve sigh before saying, “I’ll make it up to you.”
He’s been saying that a lot lately, but you know they’re empty promises.
“Okay.”
“I love you,” he says much softer than his previous tone.
“Love you too,” you say back, but your heart hurts.
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Before you met Steve, sleeping alone wasn’t so bad. Some nights you would be on your phone, scrolling through social media till you eventually got sleepy. Other times, you’d lie in bed staring at the ceiling thinking about your day and mentally planning the next. Too often you found yourself overthinking about something you did, something you wish you could change. Or you would be anxious about something coming up, running through different scenarios of how it’d go. For some reason, your mind wouldn’t let you succumb to the sleep that your body desperately needed. But you were used to it.
Then Steve came along and he’d be there to ease your mind. On the nights he would stay over, sleep came much easier. There would still be nights where your mind kept you awake, but Steve would be lying right next to you. You’d be on his chest, his hand soothingly rubbing your back as you told him about that meeting you were nervous about or how you got in trouble by your boss for a simple mistake. Steve would assure that everything would be okay and you found it easy to believe him.
He always knew when you needed a distraction from your worries, bringing up mundane things like last night’s baseball game or telling you about the modern music he actually started to like. Sometimes, he’d tell you a story from his life in the 40s. Stories like how his friend Bucky would drag him all over town, trying to find a date for the evening. Or about that time he had to star in an action movie when he just started out as Captain America (which you made a mental note to find later on Youtube). You loved hearing about Steve’s old life, curious about what made him into the man you love today.
Sometimes he’d just entertain your wild thoughts, especially when you’re half asleep. Conversations like how different life would be if dinosaurs never went extinct or if flat earth conspiracists were right. You’d be lying with your back to his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist while you mumbled any thoughts that came to mind. He’d listen till he heard your soft snores and he’d give you a gentle kiss on your head before he’d fall asleep too.
Then there would be nights where words would rarely be spoken. A night of soft moans as he took care of your body in ways only he knew how. He’d whisper praises, drawing out moans from you as he hit all the right spots. It was always different and exciting. You never knew what to expect, but he would always be so loving. You’d always stay close, basking in the afterglow.  
After having the comfort of Steve in the night, the times he’s not there feel a lot lonelier than before.
Like now, you’ve got your eyes closed but you’re not sleeping. Your thoughts seem louder than ever and they’re all about Steve. It probably doesn’t help that you decided to wear one of his tee shirts to bed, the faint smell of him making you miss him even more. After he cancelled on you (again) this past weekend, you started to wonder if he even wanted to see you at all.
You want to be mad at him, but how can you be? He’s Captain America! He has a responsibility that he can’t ignore, not even for his girlfriend. Lately, you can’t help but be worried at how many missions he’s been going on. To make matters worse, you’re left in the dark about all of it. He says it’s safer if you don’t know. You just have to trust him and trust that he needs to go.  
But what if he doesn’t actually need to? What if he wants to go so he doesn’t have to see you. Okay, that’s extreme, but it’s a possibility? It seems like he doesn’t even want to talk to you at all sometimes. You’re always the one texting and calling. It’s never really him unless it’s to let you down (again). Maybe you’re just being needy. Were you asking for too much? Are you overreacting? Probably. But it’s normal to be upset about not seeing your boyfriend for weeks, right?
You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. You pick up your phone from the nightstand. The clock reads 3:12am. You unlock your phone and open your messages to see the last few texts Steve sent.
Steve ♡: I’m sorry.
You: just be safe
             —
Steve ♡: I’m back.
You: okay
Your thumb hovers over the call button for a good bit, contemplating if you want to bother him so late at night. Before you can overthink it, you hit the button. You turn to lay on your side with the phone against your ear, anxiously waiting for the ringing to stop.
“Hello,” Steve answers, voice deep and filled with sleep. You feel guilty for waking him up, but at the same time feel relief at the sound of his voice.
“Hi,” you say shyly. Honestly, you weren’t expecting him to actually pick up. You were prepared to just leave a voicemail.
“Is something wrong?” he mumbles.
“No, no. There’s nothing wrong… I just…” you can feel the heat rising in your face, suddenly embarrassed for some reason. “I just miss you,” you say quietly, not even sure if he’s heard you.
You can hear the shuffling of sheets.
“I miss you too sweetheart,” he says and it warms your heart for a moment, “and as much as I wanna talk right now, I have to be up in a couple hours for a mission.”
“Oh,” the small smile you had on your face quickly disappears. You had no idea he was leaving again even though he just got back the day before.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay hon?” he says tiredly.
You feel a lump in your throat forming but you push past it, “yeah… yeah, of course.”
“Love you,”
“Love you too,” you practically whisper.
The phone call ends and the tears start to slide down your face. You didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore.
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The last call you had with Steve a few days ago left you torn between logic and your emotions. You knew he was just tired, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between you two. In the past, he never seemed to mind talking to you, even in the odd hours of the morning. You always believed that you guys were so in sync. It seemed like he knew when you needed comfort and would be there to provide it.
You would be able to tell when something was off with Steve and though you would always offer to talk about it, he would brush it off. Thinking back to it, maybe he never really opened up to you for a reason.
You began to question if you are more invested in this relationship than he is. It feels wrong to even think so, considering how sweet and caring he is, especially with you. But everyone has their limits, right? Maybe he’s just gotten tired of you. It’s clear that work is his number one priority right now, maybe he doesn’t have time for a girlfriend anymore. He always makes promises of making it up to you another time, but maybe there will never be another time.
The thought of him leaving completely sends a pang of hurt to your heart.
You: can we talk?
You had sent Steve that text what felt like forever ago, but in reality has only been 20 minutes. You had spent that time repeating in your head what you were going to tell him while you paced back and forth around your living room. You were going to ask for a break. You didn’t want to break up with him completely, no, but you thought that this would be better in the long run. You’re hoping a break will give him the space he needs and then you guys can go back to the way you were. You figured it was better to let him focus on being a hero. You didn’t want to become the clingy girlfriend that he’d eventually resent.
You had no idea how he would react. Maybe he would agree. It’ll be tough, but every couple goes through something like this, right? Sure, it’s a special circumstance with you dating an Avenger, but other people have busy partners. You wonder how they manage a relationship when they don’t see each other so often. Maybe you were giving up too easily? But you’re tired of feeling pushed aside, like you aren’t his priority when he’s at the top of your list. You’re tired of feeling guilty for being upset when he can’t come see you. You’re just tired of feeling like you’re losing him.
Just as you start to doubt your whole plan, your ringtone breaks the silence. You pick up your phone with a shaky hand and tap on the answer button.
“Hello,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice the nervous tone of your voice.
“Hey honey, you wanted to talk?”
“Uh, yeah…” you reply, already struggling to keep your voice even.
“Is everything alright?” he’s concerned and you can imagine the look on his face.
“Yeah…yeah,” you lie, “I uh… I just wanted to talk… about us.”
“Listen honey, I’m sorry about last week but it was really-“ he begins to apologize, but you shake your head, not wanting to hear another excuse.
“It’s more than that Steve,” you interrupt.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” you hesitate, trying to gather your thoughts. “Do you realize it’s almost been a month since we’ve last seen each other?”
There’s a pause before he answers, “…I didn’t know it had been so long.”
“Do you even care?” you ask, voice giving in to the mix of anger and sadness you feel. The tears begin to well up in your eyes.
“Of course I care, you know I do” he defends.
“Do I though?” you question. The rehearsed words you mentally prepared are long gone. “…I’ve been sitting here thinking of what I’m doing wrong because I feel like something’s changed between us.”
“What are you talking about?” he sounds genuinely confused, “Nothing’s changed.”
“Steve… we don’t talk like we used to, I barely get to see you. I miss you all the time.”
“I know I’ve been working a lot lately,“ he acknowledges.
“And I don’t blame you for that,” you clarify.
“I know how important your job is, but… but I’m feeling a little left out here,” your voice cracks at the end. You wipe the few tears that started to fall down your face. “I mean, I feel like I barely know that part of your life. You’re gone most of the time and you never talk to me about it.”
“I can’t, for your safety. We’ve discussed that.”
“Yeah and I thought I could handle it, but you’re giving me nothing here,” you argue. “I wanna be there for you Steve, but it’s hard when you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
“I... I can’t. I want to but it’s better if you don’t know,” he says pleadingly. You want to believe him, but you just can’t seem to let this go.
The silence lingers over the phone.
“Maybe we should take a break,” you eventually say with defeat.
“A break?”
“Maybe we just need some time to sort things out. You can focus on your work and when things get better… we can try again.”
“No, no…” he starts to argue, “that’s not fair.”
“Steve, please…” you beg, “just try to see where I’m coming from. I still love you, I always will. I just think we need this.”
He doesn’t say a word, making you anxious.
“Steve-”
You’re cut off by the phone hanging up. You sit in disbelief, letting the weight of the conversation fall on you.
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You spent the rest of the night just curled up on the couch. You keep questioning your decision. In your mind, this was the right thing to do, despite the heartbreak you knew you’d be feeling. But you didn’t think it would hurt as much as it does now.
Steve’s reaction made you rethink the idea of a break. You worry that he thinks you don’t love him anymore when it’s the complete opposite. You did this because you love him. You didn’t want to lose him completely, but it looks like you lost him anyways. Maybe, deep down, a part of you was trying to save yourself from the inevitable heartbreak.
The living room was dark, the only light coming from the street lights outside. The tears have stopped flowing, but the headache lingers. It’s almost 2 in the morning and despite being worn out from crying, you have trouble sleeping. You’re about to get up for a glass of water when you hear a knock on your door.
Your first reaction is to panic, because you weren’t expecting anyone at such a late hour. You mentally run through the self defense moves Steve insisted on teaching you. Slowly, you approach the door, trying to not make any noise.
Knock knock knock.
“It’s me.”
It’s softly spoken, but you hear him loud and clear. You quickly open the door to reveal Steve with a look of sorrow on his face. You can’t help but stare at him in shock, taking in his disheveled appearance.
“I don’t want a break,” he says hoarsely, breaking you out of your trace.
You all but pounce toward him and wrap your arms around his neck. He immediately wraps his arms tightly around your waist. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling the familiar scent that reminds you of home. Despite everything that happened over the phone, you feel a flood of relief from finally being in his arms.
You stood in his embrace, relishing the feeling of him being there for a good minute before you pulled away. You meet his eyes, noticing the tears surrounding them and it hurts your heart.
“We should talk,” you say, voice rough from the crying just hours ago.
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You’re sitting side by side on your couch. You look at him and can’t believe that he drove all the way to your place in the middle of the night. You can see the worry on his face and you want nothing more than to comfort him, but you hold back because you want an explanation first.
“So..” you start off, “you don’t want a break?”
“Y/N, I know I’ve messed up, but please don’t give up on us,” he says with pleading eyes.
“I don’t want to. I thought that’s what you would’ve wanted. I thought…” you shy away from his stare, “maybe you didn’t want me anymore.”
Steve looks at you with guilt, realizing for the first time how much he’s hurt you, “I’m sorry… I know I’ve been saying that a lot lately but I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t want to be with you.”
“Then what's been going on?” you ask, looking back at him, determined to know why it took you asking for a break to get him here.
Steve looks down at his hands, visibly nervous. Why? You have no idea.
“Talk to me Steve,” you encourage him. “Please.”
He turns to look at you, taking a breath before saying “I’ve been looking for Bucky.”
You’re immediately confused. Out of all the things you thought of him saying, this was never one of them.
“Bucky? Bucky Barnes?” you question. You knew of his friend from the stories he would tell you. Bucky was practically a brother to Steve.
“Yes,” he says easily, but it just makes you more confused. The thought of Steve going crazy briefly crosses your mind.
“He’s the Winter Soldier,” he explains. You recognize that name from the news. He was a part of the incident that happened in DC.
“What? H-How would that even be possible?” you question, not really being able to wrap your head around it. From what you knew, Bucky died in war back in the 40s.
“HYDRA was using him. They found him after he fell from the train and they brainwashed him for decades until I was able to snap him out of it when we fought in DC,” Steve continues, “After he saved my life, he disappeared.”
The pain in his voice is evident as he talks about his friend. You scoot closer to him and you take his hand into yours, offering him comfort.
“Sam and I have been following any lead we could to find him,” he explains, “I’ve been doing that along with all the other missions I get sent on. That’s why I’ve been gone so much.”  
It finally makes sense to you.
“Oh Steve,” you say, “I wish you would’ve told me this sooner.”
“I know honey, I should have…” he squeezes your hand, which you reciprocate.
“HYDRA is evil. I’ve seen how cruel they can be,” he continues. “The thought of them coming anywhere near you kills me,” his voice filled with emotion and his eyes gloss over with tears. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to get out of that headspace…”
He looks away from you, head down, “you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”
You reach over with your free hand to touch his face. “Steve,” you turn his head to look at you. His blue eyes shine even in the dim lighting. “Please don’t shut me out. I want to know these things. You don’t have to tell me everything, but I just want to be there for you. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”
Your eyes beg him to understand you. “And I get it now. Bucky is your friend and I know you’ll find him again someday. Just don’t put all that stress on yourself,” your thumb wipes away a stray tear falling down his face. “I want to help you in any way I can. You can always come back to me.”
He subtly nods and looks at you, faces only a breath apart. “I don’t deserve you,” he says quietly, like he’s in disbelief.
He closes the distance, lips finally meeting yours. Your eyes flutter shut, as you continue to cradle his face in your palms. You focus on conveying all your love for him into the kiss. You pull away briefly to move on to his lap as he leans back into the couch. His hands naturally fall on your hips as you get impossibly close.
You break the kiss again, “Promise not to leave me again,” you plead, but your tone is much lighter this time. You never wanted to leave his arms again.
He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowing a bit, “I can’t promise that,” you give him a sad smile, already knowing that. His hand leaves your hip to push a stray hair behind your ear, “but I can promise that I will talk to you more and show you how much you mean to me more often. ”
You genuinely smile at that.
“This is important to me,” he says, pulling you closer, emphasizing his words, “you’re important to me.”
“I love you”
“I love you too,”
You lean back in to kiss him again, smiling in between because you’re happy to have your Steve back. And you know things will get better from here. There’s still going to be some tough nights when you miss him and he can’t be there, but you know he’ll be missing you just as much. You won’t have to doubt his love for you again.
You pull away once more, “Remember how you said, you’d make it up to me?” you question with a mischievous look in your eye.
“Yeah,” he says looking at you expectantly.
You simply raise your eyebrows and smirk at him. He catches on and mouths an “oh”.
You’re lifted from the couch so you latch onto Steve’s shoulders, giggling loudly at the sudden movement. He carries you into your bedroom, where he definitely made up for lost time.
You slept much easier that night.
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hope you enjoyed reading! 🤍 reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!! let me know if you liked it :) 
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jkstompers · 3 years
Text
just to study | jjk
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pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader
summary: your seat partner asks if you’re free after class, just to study.
genre: fluff, college!au, established friendship, flirtationship, mutual pining, they go to a ‘frat’ party together, also yugyeom! a sweetheart<3 we love him.
warnings: mature!!, mentions of alcohol + alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, strong language, SEXUAL TENSION, mentions of dick sucking??, hints of a wet dream on oc’s end, very strong urges to kiss each other but no kisses today </3, that’s pretty much it!
word count: 7.4k (i...kinda went overboard)
authors’ note: hello!! this is a pt. 2 to sleepyhead! it’s based a few weeks after so yeah <3 also the pacing is kind of weird but… i don’t really know how being drunk is so............(>人<) i’m sorry about that! one scene was inspired by this post haha it was just so cute to think about i had to do it. ALSO i literally haven’t taken anatomy since high school so i just used random terms from quizlet T_T pls excuse that as well! but otherwise, enjoy!!!!!!!!! (っ^_^)っ
(if u see any typos...ignore them pls T_T)
side note: imagine jk looking like this when he goes to the party lmao classic fboy look with the camo bomber and his piercings ugh <3
banner pic creds here ! <3
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you made it to class on time today, woke to your alarm and even had enough time to eat breakfast before you came. in a particularly good mood, you made your way up the stairs to the row jungkook was sitting in, hoping that the seat next to him was empty (you didn’t have to hope, jungkook always saved the seat next to him for you, no matter what.)
“good morning, ___!” jungkook’s voice greets you the same as always as soon as you appear next to him. he moves his bag out of the way for you to sit down.
he looks especially cute today. his long floppy hair framing his face, his sweet smile beaming up to you. you wonder how dumb you looked drooling over him for a minute before you replied, “hi jungkook, how are you?” with the same smile on your face that you show him every time he sees you. it never changes, but it never fails to make jungkook’s heart skip a beat.
“i’m doing okay, you?” he answers while you pull out your laptop.
you didn’t have a chance to reply before your professor starts talking. informing the class about the test that’s planned at the end of the month, finals in two months, and then dropping the bomb that there’s a quiz tomorrow about the things you’ve learned in the past week. a slight panic takes over you, although you didn’t know why, you understood what he was teaching and you were retaining all of the information well. but when the professor pulls up all the information on the screen to review it all, all of the words and pictures overwhelm you.
to make things worse, jungkook is to your left, not paying attention to a word your professor is saying. instead, playing some game where he has to click his touchpad an obnoxious amount of times. your attention is split between jungkook’s erratic tapping and the notes that the professor projects onto the screen, even though his computer barely made any noise, his incessant movement was distracting you.
“jungkook, you’re taking notes and playing a game?” your voice comes out as a rushed whisper. there’s a snort that comes from him before he nods. you couldn’t be mad at him. “there’s a quiz on all of this tomorrow, you know?”
“i know,” he continues to tap and click, the motion growing incredibly annoying. you didn’t know why you couldn’t have just tried to block it out, but he was just so close to you and admittedly, you looked at his hands, a lot. the way that his fingers tapped against his keyboard and his veins that accentuate his already beautiful hands, it was free art you could look at, how could you not? at this point, you’re contemplating holding his hand to make him stop tapping.
you were in the middle of typing when he finally stops, leaning back and stretching his arms up into the air. you let out a sigh of relief, until he starts again. apparently he reached the next level on his game, tapping even faster, if that was even fucking possible.
quietly, you groan. turning your attention solely on him. you place your hand on top of his, the tapping ceasing almost immediately. “please, jungkook, you’re distracting me.”
he looks at your hand before he looks at you, his chocolate doe eyes wide to the action. he gulps, “sorry.”
you remove your hand, focusing back to the presentation. jungkook feels the heat from his cheeks travel to his hand. the feeling of your hand on his wasn’t something he was expecting to experience today, but he wants nothing more than for you to do it again. he exits the game tab and changes his focus to the lecture.
or moreso, you focusing on the lecture.
you look so cute. your cheek pressed up against your fist. he stares at the way that your forehead creases in concentration. he taps on your arm that’s resting on the table, “hey, you look like you’re stressed out.”
you turn your head slightly to look over to him. “that’s because i am,” you send him a quick smile before you go back to looking at the projection.
he furrows his eyebrows, “why? you’re smart, there’s no need to worry about what you get on this.” you were an a+ student, never anything less than that. jungkook knows that you ace every test that you take, so he doesn’t quite understand why you’re so stressed.
“because jungkook,” you groan. you expected a lot from yourself, sure b’s were okay, but a’s and a+’s were what you wanted and what you thought would make you feel satisfied. there was no way you could explain this without sounding like an overachiever. so you just sigh, “i’m just not really prepared.”
jungkook thinks of the perfect way to spend more time with you, snapping his fingers before suggesting, “we should study together after class, studies show that studying with someone else will give you an a+, guaranteed.” the confidence in his voice makes you smile, and helps you ease up a little bit.
you raise an eyebrow, a laugh creeping up from your lungs. “source for that statistic, sir?”
he taps his right temple, the gesture making you snort. “no but seriously, i’ll help you out,” he assures. his laptop turns towards you to show you all the notes he took, different words highlighted and colored differently.
you act like you think about it, staying quiet for a minute or so. but you know the answer was yes no matter what. “just to study?” you tease. jungkook raises his eyebrows in surprise, an amused smile on his face, “just kidding, we can go to mine? i owe you for the ride you gave me like two weeks ago.” you tap your fingers against your laptop nervously, your teeth taking in your bottom lip as you ask. you haven’t had a guy over to your apartment, not since you’ve moved in. there’s a certain anxiousness that comes with the suggestion.
jungkook nods, “sounds good.”
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“okay, again.” you brush your hair behind your ears, preparing yourself once more for another pass of the flashcards. the two of you have been at it with these cards for the past hour or so, you were determined to get these right no matter how long it took. jungkook knew you were gonna get it down, you only had three more cards, these ones specifically stumping you.
“aponeuroses,” he looks at the card and then to you.
“connective tissue that forms a broad sheet which attach muscle to bone or muscle to other muscles,” you speak confidently. jungkook nods, moving onto the next card of the set of three.
“endomysium,” he reads the card. you hesitate on this one for a second, he plays with the corner of the card until you snap your fingers.
“that’s the connective tissue surrounding the… the— uh, oh! muscle fiber?” your brain works extra hard. jungkook rewards you with another nod, flipping to the last card.
“fascia.”
“dense connective tissue,” you begin, pausing to think of the rest of the answer. you start biting your thumb nail, knowing there’s more to it but it’s not coming to your brain quick enough.
jungkook just stares, watching your facial expressions as you search for the answer in your brain. this could be the worst crush he’s ever had, he thinks you’re cute when you’re just sitting there, thinking. he doesn’t remember ever liking someone this much, most of the time his crushes went away after a few weeks or so. but it’s almost been an entire year since he’s started crushing on you, and it still hasn’t stopped. you still manage to find a way to make his thoughts surround you.
“separates and holds individual tissues? it’s the one that extends into the tendons, right?” you perk up after a minute or so. your brain finally coming up with the answer. you blame jungkook’s presence for slowing you down. maybe you shouldn’t have accepted this offer to study together, because how could you focus when jeon jungkook is sitting right in front of you?
“you’re amazing,” he praises, setting the flashcards down onto the table. you blush at the compliment, jungkook takes notice, but he doesn’t mind, he thinks pink is pretty on you. he’s never wanted to kiss your cheeks as much as he did now, and trust, he’s thought about it many, many times. “all done?” he asks after staring at you for the longest time.
you nod, “just gonna highlight these terms to review them later so i can get it down 100%.”
jungkook watches as you diligently reread your notes and highlight them. an apple on the table taking his attention away for a second when he realizes he hasn’t eaten at all today. he takes a bite, the loud crunch noise seemingly startling the both of you. it makes you turn your head and raise an eyebrow towards him.
“sorry,” he chews, “hungry.”
your stare lingers a little longer than you wanted it to. his cheeks are full of apple, you can’t help but laugh a little. “there’s still the sticker on it,” you point out.
he turns the apple around to see the blue sticker. peeling it off, he holds it on his fingertip, an idea sprouting in his mind to see that sweet smile of yours again. so he places the sticker on your cheek, your gaze moving from your screen to him and then to the fruit sticker now stuck onto your cheek. “get it? ‘cause you’re sweet like this apple is,” he smiles.
oh my god. you blush embarrassingly, your entire face flushed pink as you hide your cheeks behind your hands. he laughs at your reaction. jungkook was feeling bold today, so he moves forward, gently taking your hands away from your face to see the cute pink tint he caused. he sits back, admiring your pretty face.
you feel yourself burning hotter and hotter the longer he stares, looking everywhere but his face, too scared to make eye contact. you look back to your computer screen, “um— there’s pasta in the fridge— if you’re hungry, i made it last night.” you offer, but he declines politely, telling you that he has to leave pretty soon because his friends are expecting him to join them today.
begrudgingly, you watch as jungkook packs his things up. he thinks about how content he felt hanging out with you today, and how he wanted to do it again, as soon as possible. a thought pops into his head before he opens the door to leave. he turns on his heel.
you weren’t expecting the sudden turn, accidentally bumping into his chest. “oof! sorry.”
“it’s alright,” he laughs, helping you steady yourself by holding your shoulders. “i just wanted to ask— uh, my friends are throwing a party tomorrow night, do you— do you wanna come?” his words come out jumbled, jungkook never fails to trip on his words whenever he’s near you.
tomorrow night...it’s a friday tomorrow, the quiz is tomorrow, why the fuck not? a stress reliever from all the studying you’ve done. “sure,” you answer after a minute or so of deliberation. you look up at him with a smile, suddenly realizing how close the two of you are.
your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, the close proximity makes you hold your breath. “great! i can pick you up? be your DD?” he quirks his head, a smile that matches yours on his face.
you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” with that, jungkook takes a step back, widening the space between you both as his right hand goes to hold the strap of his bag.
“okay, i’ll text you the details.” before he turns around, turning the knob of your front door and letting himself out. before the door closes, he sends you a wave, one which you reflect as he pulls the door closed. you move up and lock the door, your forehead resting against the cold metal slab.
you wonder if this crush will ever advance into something more. neither of you really push the agenda, most of the time just cutely flirting with each other and only talking to each other during class. maybe this party will be a chance to further the bond the two of you have. you could only wish that you could drop this nervous shield that pops up everytime you’re around him, but jungkook is just so cool. the campus heartthrob, everyone wants to be him or be with him.
for the rest of the day, jungkook seems to occupy your mind, as he always does. when you get to sleep, the fantasies of jungkook’s lips on yours drift you into a deep sleep, one that eventually leads to a dream that has you rubbing your thighs together. his hands were all over your body, his cologne that you were so familiar with tormenting your nose, it all felt too real. so when you woke up to the sound of your alarm, sweat beaded at your hairline. you took deep breaths, cementing the fact that he isn’t here, and he certainly isn’t doing those things with you right now.
it was not helping that you dreamt of him sexually on the day of your quiz, the one that you were immensely stressing over. now, you’re gonna have to walk into class, act normal around jungkook even though your brain produced pornographic images of him, (it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time you’ve had to face him right after it happened) and ace this quiz.
you tried almost everything you could to have cleared your brain of your dream sequence. taking a shower, eating breakfast, studying once more, etc. but when you’re walking into the lecture hall, flashes of the dream and the sound of his imagined moan echo in your mind.
you walk up the stairs with your eyes down, not sure if you could make eye contact with jungkook without turning red. “hey, ___, good morning!” the familiar voice greets you.
“morning,” you reply, dryly. taking the seat next to him and silently taking your laptop out, waiting for the professor to start the quiz. jungkook seemed a bit taken aback by your cold answer, but he took into account that you’re probably just super nervous and stressed out because of the quiz, so he doesn’t take it too personally. instead, just sitting back in his chair and waiting patiently to take the quiz as well.
at this point, you were psyching yourself out, swearing that you already forgot all of the terms. if you were quizzed on the parts of male anatomy, specifically jungkook’s, then maybe you could ace it, but the terms that you were working oh so hard to memorize yesterday slip from your mind. when the professor tells you to separate and start the quiz, you start to bite your thumb nail again.
jungkook takes a look over at you, noticing the bad habit of yours. he gently takes a hold of your arm, pulling your thumb away from your teeth. the action causing you to make eye contact with him and his big doe eyes that hold so much love and light. you find yourself a bit speechless then, too many thoughts running around in your mind.
he whispers, “you’ll do great, okay?” the statement soothing your nerves. his voice somehow makes your body relax, even though you thought you would freak out if you made any sort of contact with him.
“you— you too, good luck,” you mutter. a half smile on your face. you were grateful that jungkook broke you out of your trance, his words of encouragement suddenly placing you in the testing state of mind. the images from last night's dream seem to put themselves away for now.
the next twenty minutes are complete silence. everyone focused on the questions before them. of course, you zoomed through the quiz, prepared for the trick questions and the harder ones that come up. jungkook finishes after you. it wasn’t a surprise, jungkook didn’t even have to try, you swear you’ve never seen him stress out before. nobody was perfect, you believed that, but jeon jungkook was the closest to it.
“okay, class! the quiz will be graded by tonight hopefully, you’re free to leave,” your professor alerts the class. jungkook waits patiently until you’re standing, following you down the stairs and out the door.
you decide to speak first, since you greeted him with such a dry response this morning. it wasn’t his fault that you dreamed of him on top of you, so why were you punishing him for it? “how’d you think you did?” you asked, turning to look at him.
he shrugs, “good i guess, i think i fucked up on one or two questions.”
“was it the striation part? i think i messed up on that one too.”
he shakes his head, “you know you aced that, don’t lie.”
you stay silent, the two of you walking to the campus parking lot. neither of you engage in conversation as you usually do. the images of last night’s dream slipping into your consciousness once again. you try to shake your head, to rid yourself of the thoughts. nothing else to distract you from them because jungkook was oddly silent the entire walk. you fear that he can actually read your mind and see all of your thoughts. if he could, he doesn’t mention it. not saying one word to you until he walks you to your car, greeting you with a ‘see you next class!’ before leaving to go to his car. not even mentioning the party to you, you start to wonder if he regrets inviting you. up until you heard your phone ring when you parked in the lot of your apartment complex.
[10:24 am] jungkook: hey! forgot to remind u about the party 😫
[10:24 am] jungkook: ur still down to come, right?
[10:28 am] you: hi! yeah :)
[10:28 am] you: is there a dress code or smth? haha
[10:29 am] jungkook: not that i know of 😂
[10:30 am] jungkook: u can wear anything u want
[10:30 am] jungkook: ur cute whatever u wear
[10:31 am] you: oh stop it jeon ur making me blush
[10:32 am] you: but tell me :( should i wear something casual? pants? a dress?
[10:34 am] jungkook: 😂
[10:34 am] jungkook: it’s kind of like a frat party…
[10:35 am] jungkook: so anything is okay
[10:37 am] you: ah okay
[10:37 am] you: i’ll surprise u then ;)
[10:40 am] jungkook: alright :)
[10:41 am] jungkook: i’ll come by around 9 to pick u up? sound good?
[10:42 am] you: yeah! gives me enough time to nap and get ready lol
[10:44 am] jungkook: great :) see u then cutie
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you wake up from your nap around one, you had more than enough time for you to get ready for a party. so you decide to clean your apartment first, little chores to waste time before you get yourself dolled up. when you finished, it was around seven thirty. you washed your face, brushed your teeth, all that good stuff before sliding on a simple black bodycon that you got last summer. styling your hair and spraying on your favorite perfume before looking at yourself in the mirror. this wasn’t too much, right? lots of people wear stuff like this to frat parties, so you didn’t find it too fancy. the notification sound from your phone goes off, you move to check and see if it was who you were expecting.
[8:54 pm] jungkook: i’m here :)
[8:54 pm] you: ahh gimme a sec i need to pee haha
[8:55 pm] jungkook: take ur time cutie
[8:56 pm] jungkook: i’m right in front
jungkook only really had to wait about five minutes. the visual of you walking out of your apartment doors, looking the way you did, was breathtaking. his jaw drops, mouth slightly agape as he watches you walk up to his car through the passenger window. you are so gorgeous. it’s probably the first time jungkook’s seen you in clothes that really compliment your figure, most of the time you show up to class in hoodies and sweaters. so greedily, he takes in the way the dress hugs your curves deliciously. he shakes the thoughts from his head to get out of the car and open the door for you.
“what a gentleman,” you tease, getting into the car.
he joins you soon after, “you look...gorgeous.” jungkook doesn’t seem so shy now, his eyes taking in your beautiful self.
“thank you,” you blush under his stare. “is it too much?”
“no! no— not at all, all eyes will be on you tonight.” he smiles, turning the car on. now you were able to gawk over him. a simple outfit, all black with a black and white camo bomber. his side profile is perfect, his long hair draping over his face so gracefully and his piercings somehow sparkling in the dark of the car.
he doesn’t drive too far, somewhere in the suburbs where the big houses are. a huge iron gate in the front, seemingly too fancy for a frat party setting. jungkook rolls his window down to greet someone waiting in front of the gate with a couple of other guys.
“jeon! you’re late dude,” one of the guys gives him a handshake through the window.
“sorry man, i’m here now though,” jungkook laughs. the guy giving him the greenlight and opening the gate for him, jungkook parks inside on their stone driveway, decorated with a fountain and a beautiful garden.
“your friend lives here?” you inquire, impressed by the look of the place.
he nods, “fancy right? his parents are ceo’s.” makes sense, and it would also make sense as to why they were throwing a frat party here, rich sons always seem to stir up trouble whenever they’re bored.
he steps out of the car to open the door for you, always a gentleman. he takes your hand and helps you out, the two of you walking to the huge open double doors. as soon as you walk in, the smell of alcohol hits your nose, you try your best not to cringe. the blare of the speakers is the second thing you notice, along with the shouting of jungkook’s friends greeting him. “who’s this?” one of them asks, referring to you.
jungkook seems to hesitate at first, not really knowing how to introduce you. he settles by saying, “this is ___!” not attaching any ‘friend’, ‘classmate’, or anything to the introduction. his friend holds his hand out to shake yours.
you take it with a smile on your face, “i’m yugyeom, it’s nice to meet you!” a smile that reflects yours is on his face, it made you feel welcome. you were never really the type to go to parties, your time is spent working and/or going to school, but this interaction helps you ease up a little more.
“hello, yugyeom!” you reply, shouting over the music.
“do you wanna take a shot?” he asks. pointing to the enormous kitchen where they’re housing all the alcohol, you look to jungkook first who’s paying more attention to his phone rather than the conversation you were just having.
you shrug, “why not?”
yugyeom leads the two of you to the kitchen, jungkook following behind you blindly. he looks up from his phone, done with whatever business he was dealing with to ask, “where are we going?”
“taking a shot,” you answer, pointing to yugyeom who’s already pouring three shots.
“dude, i’m not drinking, don’t pour three.” jungkook tries to stop him before he fills up the third shot glass but his arm knocks yugyeom’s in the process, the bottle spilling the clear liquid into the third shot glass.
“i’ll take two,” you suggest, feeling a bit wild and down to venture out of your comfort zone.
yugyeom smiles at this, “i like her, jeon.” he hands you the two shot glasses full of vodka, jungkook stands next to you and watches as you down the first shot. your face cringing as soon as the alcohol touches your tongue.
“you didn’t even give her a chaser,” jungkook notices, scolding yugyeom who's already downed his shot and is sucking on a lime. “here, suck,” holding a slice of lime up to your lips. his choice of words disorienting you, especially since he was holding the lime up to your mouth instead of just handing it to you. your eyes flicker between the lime and his face, but nevertheless, you suck. sinking your teeth into the sour fruit. jungkook’s eyes zeroed in on how your lips wrap around the slice, slightly grazing his fingers. it’s not long before you’re making a cute scrunched up face from the sourness. “good,” he praises. you don’t deny the slight burn your lower belly felt when he said that to you. you swear he was making sex eyes to you, but you couldn’t tell. he broke eye contact with you soon after, throwing the fruit into the trash below the table that the alcohol was perched on.
yugyeom hands you another lime for your second shot, this time no jungkook to hold the fruit for you. the second shot burning down your throat with the lime chasing after, both yugyeom and jungkook cheer, congratulating you for being a trooper (even though two shots were their warmups).
the next hour or so, jungkook brings you around. he introduces you to his friends and making conversation with them. one certain group, you didn’t really enjoy. a group of five girls, clearly swarming jungkook as soon as he turned around from talking to another one of his friends. the girls ask how he’s been doing, all of the basic conversation starters. when jungkook tries to introduce you, they all turn to you and give you a little head nod before turning their attention back to jungkook. he stands there, conversing with them longer than he had with any of his other friends, and you found yourself getting, hm, jealous.
so you search around the room crowded room, looking for some way out. your eyes spot yugyeom in the backyard through the huge sliding doors, sitting on one of those lawn chairs with the one next to him empty. you decide to leave the group you were currently getting pushed out of and join yugyeom. he notices you when you step onto the grass, trying your best not to sink into the dirt with your heels. “you doing alright? where’s jungkookie?” he asks, sitting up.
you plop down onto the lawn chair next to him. “he’s in there,” you point to the house, “with five girls.”
the last bit of the sentence makes him laugh, a cackle where he holds his stomach because he was laughing so hard. “do you want a shot?” he offers after he recovers from his fit, pulling a tequila bottle out from nowhere.
but you agree, “two, please.” he fills the two shot glasses, but not completely like he did with the vodka earlier. there were no limes, or any type of chaser for you to take around, so you take the two shots like ripping off a band-aid, quick.
“you’re a funny girl,” yugyeom compliments when you’ve downed the shots.
“thanks?” you cough, the feeling of the alcohol still burning your nose and throat, “what did i say that was funny?”
“i think it’s because i’m tipsy, but that joke you made about jungkook being with five girls was hilarious.” he slaps his knee, almost making himself laugh up a storm again, but you weren’t laughing.
you raised an eyebrow, speaking with a serious tone. “it wasn’t a joke, he’s in there with five girls.”
yugyeom tries to collect himself, sitting properly on the lawn chair when he asks you to clarify, “you mean he’s fucking them? or he’s talking to them?”
you’re silent for a second before replying, why did you say it like he was in there fucking them? maybe it’s because he might as well be, so engrossed in whatever the hell they were saying to even notice that you were gone. “just talking to them,” you reply.
“that’s what i thought, jungkook isn’t like that anymore,” yugyeom nods his head, pouring another shot out for you.
“anymore?” you ask. he hands you the shot, you hesitate this time, starting to feel the effects of the first four shots you took. he doesn’t push you to take it. he just leans back onto the lawn chair as he sighs.
“you could say he’s retired,” he shrugs.
the term makes you laugh, “...a retired fuckboy?” you sit back into the lawn chair as well, looking up to the night sky. the shot glass forgotten on the table next to you. your body feels like it’s floating.
“yeah, he hasn’t really been doing stuff like that recently,” yugyeom spills. you stay quiet after he feeds you this information. yugyeom offhandedly telling you that you shouldn’t be jealous makes you feel guilty. why were you even jealous? jungkook was technically still just a friend to you. just because the two of you flirt every now and then doesn’t mean you’re together. of course he would be surrounded by girls, just look at him!
“there you are! i was looking all over for you,” jungkook interrupts your inner monologue. his voice comes from across the lawn, you look up to see him walking over to you and yugyeom.
“hi, jungkookie,” you smile up at him. the alcohol having more of an effect on you the longer you let it sit in your stomach.
he almost freezes up at the nickname, looking over to yugyeom and asking, “did you tell her to call me that?”
yugyeom holds his hands up in innocence, “i didn’t tell her to do anything, she’s like five or six shots deep though.”
you take the shot that was forgotten on the table and down it. “six,” you clarify.
“alright, slow down, iron liver,” jungkook jokes. yugyeom stands from the lawn chair, receiving jungkook’s telepathic signals to get the fuck up to he could talk and hang out with you.
“play beer pong with me later, ___! i’m gonna go look for eunwoo,” yugyeom points to you, giving you a thumbs up before leaving the backyard and moving into the house.
“feeling okay? think you might throw up soon?” jungkook asks, replacing yugyeom in the chair next to you.
“feel like i’m surfing, you know? like wavy,” you answer. the feeling was hard to explain, you weren’t dizzy but at the same time your brain was telling you to stop moving, even though you were completely still.
“ah, you’re getting there,” jungkook snorts. you didn’t have much willpower to answer, so the two of you sit there in a comfortable silence before a group of people coming towards, all greeting jungkook and you. they offer you a red cup, despite your current predicament. leaning against the chair and your droopy eyes, telling them that you’ve taken too many shots. a lightweight at her peak.
jungkook tries to deny it for you, but with a smile, you accept the cup. it was filled with the fancy mixed alcohol juice they had. “thank you,” you place the cup onto the table, “i’ll drink it.... later..” your words begin to draw themselves out. jungkook somehow finding a way to make the entire group leave, making it just the two of you again.
“give it to me, you’re starting to slur your words.” his hand is open, laying on the table and waiting for you to surrender the cup.
your eyes flicker from the red cup, to his face, then to his hand. a smirk on your face when you hold the cup up to your lips, tilting it back and drinking the cursed juice. you weren’t able to down it all, it was too much, you drank maybe ⅔ of it. you cough, taking in a deep breath as you try to steady yourself.
you weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk, but the way that his face looks in the moonlight was so pretty. so you just had to tell him. leaning forward, you speak, almost a whisper, “you’re so handsome.” you drag your finger across the expanse of jungkook’s hand. “did you know i have no gag reflex?” you smile, not your typical sweet smile that he’s used to, but a devilish grin.
jungkook’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing immediately at your remark. “alright, you drank way too much.” he takes the red cup from your hands, dumping it out onto the grass in front of you both.
“hey, i wasn’t done,” you pout, but jungkook didn’t give you much time to mourn your spilled drink before he was holding your arm, lifting you from the lawn chair you were sitting on. “where are we going?” you ask, trailing behind him with your hand in his.
“gonna get you some water and something to eat,” he answers. the two of you move through the house, jungkook pushes through groups of people and makes sure you’re safe behind him.
“i have to pee.” you tip toe to tell him your emergency in his ear. he stops at the stairs, knowing a bathroom where no one else goes. his friend specifically telling him to use that bathroom when they have parties because the other ones get way too gross.
he brings you up the stairs to the guest bedroom, opening the door to reveal one of the biggest rooms you’ve seen. “the bathroom is there,” jungkook points to the door on the left. you nod, your wobbly legs making their way to the toilet.
jungkook sits on the bed patiently, waiting for you to finish. he hears the flush and the sound of the sink running, the door opens and you’re coming out of the bathroom, pulling your dress down. “are we gonna have sex?” you utter, slurring the end of your sentence. your alcohol poisoned mind taking over your ability to speak.
his eyes widen at the question. “no! no— oh my god, this is just the room with the cleanest bathroom, we’re not—“
you’re next to him now, “you don’t want to?” you pout. glassy eyes looking into his.
“no! i mean, yes, i want to but— fuck, just— just not now, yeah?” jungkook stumbles over his words, his face blushing a blood red. your pretty face peering up at him makes him even more flustered, his hands start to sweat.
“okay,” you nodded. your drunken brain deciding to stop the interrogation of jungkook’s desire for you. to which jungkook lets out a sigh of relief, taking your hand and bringing you out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the driveway. he brings you to his car, opening the passenger door for you. “wait, are we leaving already? yugyeomie wants me to play beer pong with him,” you complain, wiggling your hand from his grasp.
goosebumps appear on your arm when you make it outside of the house. jungkook notices when he turns around to look at you. without a second thought, he takes his jacket off and places it over your shoulders. the newfound warmth shielding you from the cold night. he didn’t mind the breeze, especially since he was still recovering from the stunt you pulled in the guest room.
“we can come back later if you want, let’s just go grab something to eat first so you won’t regret this tomorrow morning.” his explanation is pretty solid according to your drunken brain, so you oblige, moving to sit in his passenger seat.
he joins you in the driver’s seat not long after. “can we get mcdonald’s?” you ask as soon as he sits down.
a smile appears on his face as he starts the car, “sure.”
the drive made you feel a little dizzy, it makes you laugh. “you okay?” jungkook asks, but you nod your head. he’s so sweet, always asking if you’re okay, making sure you weren’t feeling too awful, etc. it only makes sense that you were falling head over heels for him.
“totally fine,” you look over to him with a smile on your face. he’s so fucking pretty, his side profile is something you could rave about for days. as he’s pulling into the mcdonald’s drive through, he’s talking into the intercom, ordering the two of you something to eat when you’re suddenly mumbling, “mcflurry, kookie, oreo mcflurry.”
he looks back to you, an amused smile on his face, “oreo mcflurry?” he repeats. you nod, “okay, anything for you.”
he reiterates the request into the intercom and the server gives him the greenlight. he drives forward and waits until the next car moves up, in the time being, he looks to you. your head laying up against the door and your eyes slowly blinking, warning him that you might fall asleep. so he reaches into his backseat, his arm looking for the water bottles that he usually keeps in his car.
“hey,” he taps your arm gently, “drink some of this first.” he hands you the water bottle, you blink slowly, trying to figure out what he was handing you. once you realize it was a water bottle, you take it, opening it and gulping some of the water down. jungkook is grabbing the food when you’re screwing the cap back on. he parks somewhere in the parking lot and tells you to start eating.
you grab your mcflurry first, the feeling of the cold ice cream on your tongue soothing your dizzy brain. “yum,” you think out loud.
jungkook laughs, taking out his hamburger while he takes out your chicken nuggets. “make sure to eat some of this, yeah? don’t want you throwing up and hating me.”
the thought makes you smile. jungkook was taking such great care of you. sure, he let you down the alcohol like it was nothing, but you never opposed to it, always taking the shot because you wanted to. now jungkook is here, taking care of you, because he wanted to. you knew that if it were anybody else, they probably would have left you at the party, letting you fend for yourself. the sudden warmth in your chest makes you want to tell jungkook everything.
with his jacket wrapped around you instead of him, you can see the bulge of his arm muscles peek out from the short sleeved shirt he was wearing. even drunk, your brain seems to travel back to the images from your dream. “you know, i had a dream about you, a reeaaaallllllyyyyy dirty dream, jeon jungkook.” you blurt out the confession before your thoughts catch up with you, the alcohol still very much blocking off the common sense part of your brain.
he tries his best not to overreact, but you had a dream about him? a dirty dream at that? it awakens something in jungkook, but he pushes it down, ignoring the feeling as he asks, “you did? what was it about?” he curious as to what you meant and what your dream entailed, but he didn’t want to push too far. especially since you were drunk and most likely just spilling everything because your brain doesn’t have the willpower to hold it back.
you stick your hand into the bag to steal some fries, stuffing them in your mouth. “oh, you don’t wanna know,” you chew.
jungkook quirks a brow, “well, was i good at least?” he jokes.
you scrunch your nose, nodding nevertheless. “too good, couldn’t even focus during the quiz because of it.”
jungkook is silent for a second. the conversation making him hot even though he wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore. so he clears his throat, trying to change the subject in a subtle manner. “is that why you were so mean to me this morning?” he pouts, connecting the dots.
you laugh at the question, “sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear.”
with that, the rest of the time is spent eating. jungkook makes sure that you ate enough and drank enough water, the empty water bottle in his cupholder as proof. “do you want me to take you home now?” he asks, the two of you finished eating and now a silence takes over the car.
“are you going back?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers. he thinks you’ve started to sober up, or maybe have gotten to the point where you just want to sleep.
he shakes his head to your question, “honestly, i’m kind of tired, but if you want to go back, we can go.”
“no, i’m okay,” you decline the offer. jungkook laughs, starting the car again and driving back to your apartment complex.
you take this time to try to get yourself together. you know you’ll regret confessing to jungkook that you had a wet dream about him in the morning. but in the moment, it felt right to confess, (to your drunken brain of course). you tilt your head back, pushing your head against the headrest, and suddenly, you’re reminded of the stars jungkook has on his ceiling. you were silent as you admired the lights, jungkook takes a look at you when he’s stopped at a red light.
so cute, he thinks, staring up at his ceiling like it’s the real night sky. when he pulls up to your apartment complex, he wishes the night could be longer, that he could spend more time with you. he parks the car in the front, exactly where he picked you up. you’re looking to him now, your hands in your lap and your heart seemingly beating three times as fast as it usually does. it wasn’t the alcohol.
“did you have fun tonight?” he asks. his voice never fails to make you melt.
you nod, “i did.”
“i’m glad,” he smiles. there’s a small silence before he speaks once more, “also, y’know, you don’t have to stress yourself out so much, i know you might have expectations for yourself and stuff, but you should give yourself a break from time to time.”
the alcohol’s effects fading slowly from your brain when you start to realize that the entire reason jungkook invited you out was to help you destress. it makes you fall even harder, he was so thoughtful. even though a party wasn’t your scene, he invited you to give you a glimpse into how he has fun and hoped that it would help you loosen up a bit. you were grateful for the mental break he provided you.
you didn’t reply, purely because you were thinking about how much you want to kiss him right now, but it wouldn’t be right. when he speaks up again, there’s a nervous lilt in his voice, scared that he’s overstepped. “if you need anyone to help you— i don’t know, let loose? you can— you can always call me.” he scratches the back of his neck.
but you try your best to reassure him, smiling at the offer. “i will, thank you for tonight, jungkook, i really enjoyed it, despite being a lightweight.”
he laughs, staring at the way your face cutely scrunches when you giggle. he too, is fighting the urge to kiss you, because right now isn’t a good time. he wants to do it right. he doesn’t want to fuck it up with you. so instead, he hops out of the car and moves to open the door for you. helping you out of the car and walking you to your door, your hand in his.
“i’ll see you in class?” you turn to face him, squeezing his hand.
he nods, “yeah.” his signature bunny smile coming out to greet you a goodnight. “text me before you sleep?” he requests. you give him a thumbs up before he’s letting go of your hand and you’re sticking the key into your door, it’s then that you realize that you’re still wearing his jacket.
“oh!” you exclaim, taking the jacket off and handing it to him. but he holds his hand out to stop you.
“keep it, you can give it to me the next time we hang out, or something,” he suggests. you try to hide the growing smile behind a nod.
you hold onto his jacket, “goodnight, jungkook.”
he sticks his hands in his pockets, sending you another grin, “goodnight, ___.”
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jungkook drives home, his empty apartment welcoming him. he plops down onto his bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes he was in because he was that tired. the events of today running through his mind.
he hopes you don’t think he was doing anything with those five girls. he saw you walk away when you did, he tried his best to escape the conversation, but they kept pulling him back. he gave up after ten tries of trying to get away, standing there for a good fifteen minutes listening to them babble about how much they missed him. jungkook had never rolled his eyes so many times in a conversation.
the talk the two of you had after was another thing taking over his mind. your dirty flirting and your dream you mentioned in the car had his imagination running all over the place. he didn’t want to push you when you explained, but he was very curious as to what he did in your dream, and how good it was for you to have it run through your mind all day.
his phone rings next to him. he turns and opens it, a smile on his face when he reads your message.
[12:32 am] you: hi jungkookieeeeeeeee
[12:33 am] you: im sleeping noww
[12:33 am] jungkook: alright cutie
[12:33 am] jungkook: goodnight! again 😂
[12:34 am] you: goodnight <3
he turns his phone off after that. looking up to his ceiling with a dumb smile on his face. his mind thinking of you and only you.
967 notes · View notes
tulsa-trash · 3 years
Text
Book Swap
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Request: could you do a modern!pony x reader imagine where you're both in 9th grade and meet at the library, and one day you finally have the guts to ask for his number, so you guys start texting and then you start crushing on him and then you have to figure out how to tell him, so u ask two-bit and johnny for advice
WARNING(S): N/A
You sighed deeply as you began to reread the same sentence in your book for what felt like the twentieth time. It seemed as though you were reading but not even comprehending the words. To be fair, it was impossible to get lost in a book when a familiar cute boy was sitting a table over from you.
Ponyboy Curtis. How does one even begin to describe the amazing human you had the honor of being within five feet of? Unlike most guys in high school, Pony was something special. He was kind and very smart, you knew this because you have English with him. You've never seen someone so into a class before, he also appeared to have an interest in literature, like you. The both of you were nothing but mere acquaintances, and you secretly wished you could change that.
It didn't help that you found him absolutely dreamy. His brown hair was always a little messy, but it still managed to make him even cuter. You always feel your heart skip a beat whenever your eyes would meet his sparkling green ones in the hallways. You'd smile whenever you'd see him laughing with his friends, it showed off his dimples that sunk into his cheeks. Ponyboy Curtis was the boy of your dreams, and the young man was completely oblivious.
Your phone vibrated on the desk you were sitting at. Glancing up from your book, you seen that it was a text from one of your friends. After placing your bookmark in between the pages you unlocked your phone.
Evie: So? Did you talk to him yet?
You rolled your eyes after reading the message, your fingers quickly tapped at the screen as you typed your response.
Y/N: No obviously not. Now leave me alone.
Kathy: Girl go for it! He's a nice kid you said so yourself.
Y/N: Uh nope. Much rather stare at him from afar and not make a fool of myself attempting to talk to him.
Kathy: Well if you don't not only will I embarrass you in front of lover boy, everyone in this library will see me screaming at you and we'll both probably get kicked out.
Y/N: Wait what? How do you know I'm at the library?? Are you here right now???
Kathy: Look over at the fantasy section you nerd. You being you I obviously knew where YOU would be on a Saturday afternoon.
You looked up, eyes widening in shock as you saw your friend hiding behind a bookshelf watching you with a sly grin.
Kathy: Make a move now or I'm coming over there.
With already shaking hands you put your phone in your pocket and grabbed your book. You sent Kathy a pleading look, but all she did was shake her head and point towards Ponyboy violently. Taking in a deep breath, you got up. The chair scraped against the floor, creating a loud noise which made at least five people look up at you... including him.
"Oh god." You mumbled under your breath.
In your peripheral vision you could see Ponyboy's gaze return to his book, taking that as your cue to move you slowly crept to his table. You had made it to the chair directly across from him, he was so caught up in his book he didn't even notice your presence. You smiled softly, his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration while his eyes scanned the pages back and forth. You awkwardly cleared your throat, not too loud to disturb others but just enough for him to tear his attention from his book to notice you.
"Oh, hey." Ponyboy said, "Can I help you with somethin'?"
"Um..." Jesus this was going to be way harder than you thought. "W-Would you mind if I sat with ya?"
"Not at all. Go ahead." He sent you a friendly smile as he gestured to the chair you were at.
His smile. Your legs already feel like jello, you could've sworn you were going to collapse right then in there.
"Y/N, right?" He asked as you sat down.
"That's me. And you're Ponyboy."
"Yep, couldn't forget a name like that if you tried." He joked.
You giggled as you opened your book, Ponyboy returned to his. Curiosity got the better of you when you looked back up to see what he was reading.
"Gone With the Wind." You read aloud.
"Have you read it before?" He asked.
You shook your head, "I haven't, but I've heard only good things about it. I saw the movie about a year ago and thought it was great."
"The book is amazing!" He gushed, only to be shushed by the librarian walking by. "This is my fifth time reading it." He told you in a more hushed tone.
You snickered, "Must be really great."
"What ya got there?"
You lifted up your book from the table to reveal the cover to him, his bright eyes scanned the cover.
"The Boy in Striped Pajamas?"
"I know the title seems a bit odd, but trust me this is a good read." You told him, "This being my third time reading it."
"Well what's it about?" He asked.
You went on to tell him about your book, and he went on to tell you all about his. The both of you began to talk about anything and everything, you were beyond happy that things were going well. You were having so much fun you completely forgot about Kathy spying on you, before either of you could realize it two hours had gone by.
You peaked at your phone and cursed under your breath, the lock screen had a reminder that your shift at work was starting in less than thirty minutes.
"I really hate to end this... but I gotta go." You said.
"That sucks." He said disappointedly.
You couldn't help feeling a little giddy inside to see that he was upset you were leaving. While you got up and gathered your things, you remembered that you wanted to get his phone number badly. You just had to figure out a way to get it without making things awkward.
"Hey, Pone?"
He hummed in response.
"What do ya say we swap books... and numbers? Thats only if you want to. I just figured since we read them already and it was cool talk--"
"I'd like that." He stopped your rambling, only to send you a warm smile while doing so.
You blushed as the both of you swapped phones to put in each others information along with handing each other your books. With a final wave goodbye you left the library, your best friend of course followed after you. She interrogated you with thousands of questions and the both of you walked to work, you gladly answered them all in an almost dazed state. You felt as if you were walking on air for the rest of the day, and you couldn't wait to text him later on.
-
Two weeks had gone by, and let's just say those two weeks have been the best ones of your life. You and Ponyboy had been texting every single day. At first you just talked about each other's books, but then your conversations started evolve to anything and everything. You knew you had liked him before, but your feelings for him have grown drastically. It was beginning to get unbearable holding in how you truly felt, and you weren't sure if you wanted to tell him.
The fear of rejection was one of the main reasons why you've been thinking of just repressing your feelings. Sure, he seemed to like you, but it felt as though he only liked you simply as a friend. Another reason being you were afraid that it would ruin things between the both of you. You had finally become good friends, the last thing you wanted was for everything to end up being awkward all because of you and your silly crush.
After a lot of thinking you decided you needed some advice, and by advice you mean advice thats not only from Kathy. She keeps telling you to go for it, but she doesn't really know Ponyboy well. That's why you got the idea to ask one of his buddies on their opinion. Luckily Pony invited you to watch him and his friends play football. You ceased the opportunity, not only would you be able to watch the boy of your dreams get all sweaty and tuff looking, you could also get one of his friends alone to talk about how you felt.
It was a warm, Sunday morning in Tulsa. The sun was high in the sky and beat down harshly on the group of boys tackling each other in the giant field. You sat under a tree with a notebook in your lap, a cool breeze would rush by every now and then, cooling you off the slightest. You doodled randomness on the blank pages, sketching pictures and honing your writing skills. Every now and then you would glance up and watch the game for a few, sometimes cheering the boys on or laughing when they began to goof off and wrestle each other on the ground.
There was a particular drawing you found yourself enthralled in, as the pencil in your hand smoothly ran across the paper you found yourself sketching a picture of Ponyboy's face. You were so focused you didn't even notice someone come over and take a seat right beside you.
"Nice drawin' you got there." A quiet voice spoke.
You quickly slammed the notebook closed and snapped you head to the right, it was Ponyboy's best friend, Johnny. A tiny smirk was tugging at his lips as he looked at you with one eyebrow raised.
"T-Thanks." You stuttered nervously.
"You like him, huh?" He asked you.
You stood silent as you played with the grass below you, pulling it from the Earth and rubbing it between your fingers. Your gaze was straight ahead watching the game, you were afraid to meet Johnny's gaze that was burning holes into the side of your head.
"Yes..." You hesitated a bit, "I do."
"Does he know?"
"No!" You said hopelessly, "And I'm not sure if I even want him to know."
"Why not?"
"Because he probably doesn't feel the same..." You trailed off.
"Hey now, ya never know." Johnny said.
"What are you two kiddies doin' over here?" A loud voice bellowed.
It was none other than Two-Bit, he staggered over to the both of you before plopping down to your left. He was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his forehead and trickling down his neck.
"You tryin' to make moves on Pony's girl or somethin', John?" Two asked playfully.
Your heart fluttered, 'Pony's girl.'
"No way, man. Trust me." Johnny chuckled.
"Pony's girl?" You repeated to him questioningly.
"Oh yeah! I see the way y'all look at each other I ain't blind."
You let Two's words sink in, was it that obvious that you liked him? He even said that Pony looks at you a certain way as well. Maybe there was a chance he shared your feelings after all.
"You think he likes me or somethin'?" You asked casually.
"Oh I don't think, I know."
You smiled softly, butterflies erupting in your stomach. In the back of your mind you worried that you were getting your hopes up a little too high, but you couldn't help it.
"I like him too." You admitted.
Two-Bit scoffed, "Tell me somethin' I don't know."
"Well... what should I do?"
"Tell him." Two replied.
"I agree." Johnny piped up.
Both nerves and excitement began to bubble up inside you as you got up and gathered your things.
"Where are you off to?" Johnny asked as you began to jog away from them.
"Gotta head home. Tell Ponyboy I'm sorry I had to leave but I'll text him later!"
"See ya later lover girl!" Two-Bit hollered after you while preceding to make kissing noises.
You laughed to yourself and shook your head, "Idiot."
-
Y/N: Whats up Pone-bone?
Ponyboy: Nothing much lil lady, and yourself?
Y/N: Same. Btw sorry for leaving so soon today, had some things to do.
Ponyboy: It's alright.
Hey what were you, Johnny and Two talking about? They didn't try to tease you or nothin right?
Y/N: Nooo ofc not they were just chattin
But thats actually what I wanted to talk to you about...
Ponyboy: Well... Go on then
Y/N: Okay I'm just gonna say it
I like you
like a lot
Ponyboy: As a friend or?
Y/N: No silly, like more than friends...
Ponyboy: Wait actually?
Y/N: Yes Pony
Ponyboy: Seriously??
Y/N: OMG YES!!
I LIKE YOU A LOT!
... im sorry if it weirds you out
Ponyboy: NO! NO IT DOESN'T.
SORRY
... Just wanted to make sure this isn't a prank or whatever.
But in all seriousness yes, I like you a whole lot.
Y/N: Are you sure?
Ponyboy: Positive doll
Do you wanna grab some milkshakes at the Dingo next weekend?
Y/N: Are you asking me out onna date Curtis?
Ponyboy: Yes, I am ;)
Y/N: Well I would love to :)
243 notes · View notes
yourmidnightlover · 3 years
Text
rock
Summary - spencer wants to figure out what's wrong with you, only to be reminded what day it is and he remembers why you've been so distant.
TW: talk abt: rape, recovery, therapy, case stuff; mention of: drug addiction, rape, miscarriage, being shot, death lol
WC - 4,283
!DISCLAIMER! - i am in no way trying to romanticize recovery from a traumatic event or being upset/depressed/anxious. this is kinda my way of getting through my own issues, so please don't think that's what i'm trying to do in any way. i also don’t know how i feel abt this ending since i wrote it so long ago but oh well!
i just realized there are a few spoilers so i'll put *asterisks* around them. those parts are just explaining how the reader's always there for the team.
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you had always been the rock in spencer's life.
mentally, at least.
when he had nobody there for him when he was going through his addiction with dilaudid, there you were. you helped him through it when everybody else on the team acted as if they never noticed.
you were the one that encouraged him to get help, and pushed him to follow through. you made sure he ate and talked to someone when he had his urges again, even if it wasn't you.
you let him come over and cry about what had happened, and how unfair his life was. you consoled him and would tell him how nothing was his fault. how he didn't deserve anything bad in his life.
*and when emily 'died', he went to your house every day. you held him as he felt himself falling apart from losing her. you didn't even worry about yourself needing to be consoled, because spencer needed you to be there for him.
*when she came back you were the one to convince him to forgive her. you talked sense into him. you reminded him how much he pleaded to have her back, and then he did. so he managed to forgive her... because of you and your logic.
*and you weren't just there for spencer. while, yes, you made a special effort to be there for him, you were there for everyone on the team.
*when derek was arrested back in chicago and the team found out about his past, you were the one he leaned on for comfort. you and penelope. you let him cry on your shoulder and yell at you about how twisted a man would have to be to do something so cruel to a child.
*when jj was kidnapped and beaten to a miscarriage, you were the first she told. you didn't say anything. you knew there was nothing you could say that would relinquish the pain of losing a child. so you let her cry. you let her hug you for what felt like hours. you let her grief her unborn baby for as long as she needed.
*when penelope was shot, nobody cared to check up on her after the fact except you. you went to her apartment for weeks just to make sure she was okay. eventually, she was able to let loose all of her frustrations on you, and you took it like a champ. she ranted about how she just wanted to be loved by someone attractive and how unfair and cruel the world is, in spite of how much good she tries to bring into it.
*when hotch lost hailey, you took care of his files. you offered to watch henry and let hotch cry to you about losing her a few times once you broke past his tough exterior. you even cried with him and jack. you made them dinner whenever you could, and helped him look for good nannies to help care for jack.
*when rossi lost carolyn, you went to her grave with him on many occasions. you brought him his favorite scotch, which was very pricey, and his favorite cigars, also very pricey, and tried your best to recreate 'the rossi special' upon his directions. it helped him feel in control of something when he needed it.
*and when emily came back from the dead, you helped walk her through her own grief. she lost herself, and buried her emotions. you helped her dig up her old self, and grow into an even better woman. you even took care of her cat when penelope couldn't manage. you helped emily grieve her own death when she wanted to deny it ever happened, and she was forever grateful for you.*
you had become like the team's built-in therapist when something bad happened, and you loved it that way. you loved being the one the team went to when they needed it. it made you feel as though you had a purpose, which was something you desperately needed.
but when you went through your own trauma almost a year ago, you refused help from anyone. you knew you should've asked someone for help, or at least someone to cry or talk to when you needed to.
the team had been working on a case for longer than expected, 8 days now, and everyone was really frustrated. you had released the profile 7 days ago, and there was still no new information. it was as if the unsub had gone dormant, and you all couldn't bear that thought.
when the team released earlier than normal from the precinct and you all went to the hotel you had been staying at, you decided to get a drink from the bar quickly. you went alone, wanting to review a few of the case files during the process and not needing a distraction.
you ordered a jack and coke, and opened the case files to begin rereading them, seeing if you had missed anything.
victims were kept for 24 hours, filmed, raped, restrained, cut in pieces, and thrown in the trash like garbage. it was absolutely disgusting, and the worst you had seen in a while. the victims were low-risk and most of them had a place of authority.
the unsub had been profiled to be someone who was bossed around by a woman, narcissistic and egotistical, wanted to feel more power and authority.
the problem is, that profile was most people living in the area. even penelope couldn't dwindle down the suspects.
and alas, you had missed nothing. nothing new appeared or caught your eye. you gulped down the rest of your drink and paid for it before packing up your things to head upstairs. you tossed the file back into your bag and began the trek to the elevator.
you were interrupted by something hitting the top of your head, rendering you unconscious.
the team had woken up, and after waiting around for half an hour, spencer realized something was wrong. he had morgan bust into your room, only to find the bed unslept in. you were missing. and the worst part... you fit the unsubs type.
spencer felt his heart drop at the realization he had taken you. and it seemed as though there was no trail as to where you had gone. penelope checked the cameras, only to find that they were hacked right after you left the bar, and then they resumed after you were taken.
at least they had a time frame.
later that day, after everyone hasting to figure something, anything out, spencer had gotten an email. he opened it and expected it to be relentless spam, only to realize it was a live feed video. a video of you. he instantly called penelope in hopes that she could trace it.
she said she could, but it would take some time because the amount of routers it had been going through.
while they were waiting, you noticed you were alone. you knew who the unsub was too, thanks to his baffling stupidity and narcissism that lead him to believe he wouldn't get caught.
"officer johnson! it's officer johnson!" you looked around the camera for a second, noticing something moving. "he-he here," you cried out. "i love you," you said to the camera to nobody in particular, but someone in mind.
you were terrified. spencer could see it in your eyes. he could see the tears you tried not to shed. you didn't want to please him, but you couldn't help but feel the absolute horror and fear coursing through your body at a relentless pace.
"hi there, missus fbi," he teased, finally walking into the frame with a ski mask over his face, clearly not aware that we knew his identity.
spencer told garcia who he was, and she began her digging. officer johnson's great grandparents had owned a farm that was since then refurbished. it was an hour away.
officer johnson had known that you two had chemistry. that's why he sent the email to spencer. he saw the longing glares, the 'innocent' touches, the smiles you would give each other, the longing looks you shared. he wanted to torment him.
so when he began undressing you and you turned your face away from the camera in hopes of sparing some of your own dignity, spencer felt his heart breaking for you. it broke even more when he heard the yelps, and screams, and please, and "no!'s" you elicited during the act.
they caught him before he cut you, but not before he finished the first part of his plan. your skirt was ripped, and your shirt was practically in two pieces. spencer had given you his jacket to cover yourself as much as you could.
you stayed silent the ride back. you didn't even let spencer hold you like you normally would after a tough case. you were ashamed. embarrassed. you felt worthless. you felt pathetic. you felt stupid. you felt helpless. you felt like you were drowning. you felt like you were without a life raft.
you knew you could talk to the team about it, but you felt so disgusted by the thought of what happened to you that you only talked about it in your therapy sessions.
hotch had given you two months off. he wanted you to grieve, and go to therapy, and try to cope with everything that had happened.
and you did try to do that. you tried your hardest to get over it and move past it, but nothing helped. not the journaling. not the talking. not the crying. nothing was working.
spencer gave you a little space at first, but he then decided to try to help you as you had helped him. he went over to your house almost every day, and sat outside your door after you wouldn't let him in.
you knew he was there... you sat on the other side.
"i-i know that you probably don't want to see anyone right now. and i'm uh, i'm sure you feel alone right now, or like you can't talk to anyone," spencer sniffled. "but pl-please just uhm, just know that i'm here when you want to talk about it. i'm here to listen to you when you need me to. i-i don't want you to be alone during this time, y/n. please, just let me in," he begged.
that was normally what he would say almost every night he went to your house. he would sit outside for hours after he would ask you to let him in without fail. until one day you let him in.
spencer felt so much relief when you opened the door, only for it to be smashed when he noticed your eyes looked red and puffy, your cheeks were stained with the tears you had been crying for so long. your cheeks were sunken in, and there were dark circles underneath your eyes that were once full of life and happiness. your eyes no longer had that gorgeous sparkle in them.
spencer vowed he would get them back.
as much as spencer wanted to wrap his arms around you in that moment, to comfort you and tell you that he was there, he wanted you to make the first move. he wanted to tell you how strong you were and how proud of you he was for getting through that. he wanted to tell you how much he loved you.
he wanted you to make the first touch, because he didn't want to further upset you. he didn't want to trigger a repressed memory, or bring back the feelings of what had happened.
but spencer's touch was nothing like the officer's. spencer's touch was soft and gentle. spencer's touch was feather-light and endearing. spencer's touch was love and home. the officer's was brittle, and rough, and repulsive.
"hug me?" you sniffled as your eyes welled with tears again as they had been for the past three weeks.
"of course," spencer slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulders as yours found his torso.
he walked inside with you still in his arms and slowly shut the door. without breaking from the hug, you both walked to the couch and sat down.
you didn't say anything. you just needed spencer to keep hugging you, so he did. he did whatever you wanted, needed, from him. eventually, you fell asleep in his embrace on the couch.
when spencer looked down at you, now sleeping against his chest, he couldn't bring his heart to remove himself from you. so like any whipped man would do, he carefully picked you up bridal styled and carried you to your room. he took his shoes off as well as his sweater vest before cuddling back up next to you.
as if it was a reflex, you cuddled up into his chest when he neared you again and got underneath the covers. spencer slept the best he did in months with you. and you slept without officer johnson in your dreams for the first time since that day.
ever since then, spencer had been making sure you were eating and drinking. he took you to your therapy sessions and stayed over most nights you had asked and he was able to.
they had a few cases during the two months, so every moment he could, spencer was with you. he coaxed you back to your normal-ish self. he watched as that glimmer in your eye began to slowly grow brighter everyday. he watched as your smile came back, and your tears didn't come so frequently.
the first time he had heard you laugh again, spencer had thought he was dreaming. he wished he had recorded that moment. he was more grateful than he's ever been in his life that he had an eidetic memory, because that sound would forever be engraved in his brain.
when you returned to work, you clung to spencer. he had become your tether to reality, and hope. he had become your rock during the recovery.
over the months, everyone slowly began to forget what had even happened. things went on as usual, and the team forgot the traumatic experience you had gone through. even spencer might've let the experience get lost in his brain.
so when it became 11 months and 3 weeks since the abduction, you began to distance yourself once again.
you politely declined going out with the team a couple days before the anniversary, something you never did. you insisted that you were just especially worn out from the case you had just been on.
spencer had to finish files given to him by derek anyway, so he didn't get to witness the encounter.
once the day of the anniversary came upon you, you found yourself feeling sick to your stomach. you couldn't help the tears that would fall from your face every so often. you knew why you felt this way, but you wanted to push past it.
you had gone into the office wearing a pantsuit and blazer, wanting to avoid the normal office skirt you happened to be wearing the day it happened. you stayed at your desk and quietly did your case files. you didn't even greet spencer as you would every day. you gave him a kind smile, but you would normally give him a hug, or at the very least an eager wave upon his arrival.
spencer just assumed it was one of those days where you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. it wasn't spencer's fault he thought this. he didn't even look at his calendar to check what day it was. he just knew they had paperwork.
but he did have this day marked in his calendar. he had it marked so he would remember to be extra kind to you, and do your files for you, and come to your place with your favorite wine and takeout. he wanted to help you through the one year anniversary, but he forgot to check his stupid calendar.
you thought he didn't care. you thought the man who you loved, and the man who helped you through everything that had happened had had enough of your complaining and grievances. so, you didn't tell him about it. you didn't bother him with the terrible thoughts clouding your mind because you thought it'd burden him.
so when you finished all of your case files early, you asked hotch if you could leave early, at 2:00, because you had things to tend to. he allowed you to do so, but this rose a flag for spencer.
he saw you exit without saying goodbye to him, something you hadn't done the entirety of knowing him. you had always told everyone to have a nice night and to be safe before leaving, but not today.
finally, he looked at his phone for the first time all day, only to feel like the worst person in the world to realize what day it was. spencer felt absolutely horrible at this revelation and ran into hotch's office as quick as he could after packing his things.
"hotch!" he exclaimed upon opening his office door.
"go. she was practically in tears," hotch informed him. "and reid," spencer stopped in his tracks to turn and look at the stern man, "please make sure she's okay." spencer gave him a soft grin and a nod before turning around and bolting out of the office.
you had gotten home and immediately burst into tears. you shut the door with your back, and slid down it. you had never understood why people had done that in movies until now. you just couldn't wait to break any longer, so you settled for your front door.
you held back no wail, or scream as you cried in front of your door, your knees pulled up to your chest as you held them tightly.
you wondered why you had to go through that. you wanted to know what kind of karma there was for someone who had always tried to do the right thing to be hurt... and for nobody to even care. nobody wanted to console you, or to make sure you were alright.
you had checked up on everyone on every anniversary of their struggles. whether it be a death, abduction, anything, you had been there for every single anniversary or reminder. and nobody was there for you.
nobody was there for you to hug, or to lean on, or to cry to, or to scream at, or to rant to. nobody was there. nobody loved you enough to care about that.
but then you had to remind yourself that they all had lives.
but the person who is your life didn't even care.
spencer didn't care.
and that's why you truly lost it.
he acted like it was just another day. he acted like it wasn't the anniversary of the day you thought you were going to die. the day you wanted to die. the day you felt your most low, and humiliated. the day you lost all hope. and he didn't remember.
if the man with an eidetic memory didn't remember, it must be extremely insignificant. so therefore, you must be extremely insignificant.
spencer raced to your house. he wanted to be there for you today, and he failed. he felt like a failure as a friend. he hated himself for not being there for you when he knew you would need him. he knew how you clung to him in your time of need. you thought he was worthy enough to hold onto when you needed someone, and spencer felt elated at that.
but now he wasn't there for you. and you needed him.
he had quickly stopped by the store and your favorite takeout place to get the things you'd want. he got your wine, chocolate, food, flowers, and a teddy bear that had a sweater vest on him - you've always loved his sweater vests.
when he got to the steps of your house, he felt his heart drop. as he walked closer he heard the wails of your crying right by the door. he could sense the heartache from the edge of your porch, and felt himself feel even worse, which he didn't think was possible.
he instantly ran to the door and knocked profusely. you sniffled one last time, feeling embarrassed that someone had heard you crying your heart out. you had figured one of your neighbors heard you and wanted to tell you to keep it down, so you wiped your tears and the stray mascara from underneath your eyes and opened the door, keeping your eyes lowered in embarrassment.
"y/n," spencer announced sadly, a tear falling down his face. you looked up in confusion from hearing his voice. you noticed his tear and reached up to wipe it away on instinct.
"why're you crying? are you okay?" you asked, forgetting all of your own problems at the sight of spencer crying. spencer let out a small chuckle at your concern.
"i'm alright, aside from the fact that i'm a terrible friend," he admitted as his smile quickly faded upon seeing your stained cheeks. "i brought your favorites," he offered, holding the bag of goodies in one hand and the takeout in another.
"y-you... why?" you asked, wanting to make sure you weren't misreading the situation for him trying to comfort you.
"why?" he asked in disbelief. "because it's the anniversary. i can't tell you how sorry i am, y/n. i swear i marked it on my calendar and planned for us to take off so i could take care of you. i-i just woke up late and never bothered to even check my phone. i kn-know it's no excuse... but i am so, so, so sorry," he rambled out, already tearing up.
you grabbed his arm gently and pulled him inside before you started crying in front of your neighbors. you took the bags from his hands and placed them on your coffee table.
"i thought you just didn't care," you shrugged as you took a seat on the couch, prompting him to sit beside you.
"y/n..." he sighed as he realized how terrible he screwed up. "i will always care about this. i will always care about you. don't ever think differently. i'm just incredibly... dumb sometimes. i can't believe i made you think that," he trailed on. "i will never not care about you, y/n. i swear it. i will always, always care about you. i will always love you," he froze as he realized what he just revealed. your eyes widened, and squinted, and roamed his face, trying to figure out if he meant the words he had just sped out. "i truly do, y/n. i i’m in love with you and i'm so sorry i made it seem otherwise."
it took you a second to absorb everything that he had said.
"you too," you solemnly admitted. "i’m in love with you too. and i could forgive you... for almost forgetting," you gave him a small smile.
"i'm glad you could forgive me. i don't know what i'd do if you didn't," he relished. "you actually love me?" you nodded with a small smile.
"i have for a while," you turned your head to the bags on the table.
"oh! right!" he said, reaching for the gifts. "i got your favorite takeout, your favorite wine, your favorite chocolates, flowers, and..." he trailed on as he revealed each item. "i saw this teddy, and i couldn't resist," he smiled.
you took the bear, taking in its appearance. it had a light blue, navy, and white diamond pattern sweater vest and brown shoes on. it looked like spencer, just teddy bear form. you smiled widely at the sentiment.
"it's you," you grinned as you took it in your arms, hugging it tightly as you saw spencer nodded with a smile mirroring that of your own. "i love it," you chuckled.
"i would understand, the fur is really soft," he relished in the thought.
"i don't think he'd be as good of a cuddler as the real thing, though," you grimaced. "but he'll do for when i don't have you here i guess," you shrugged with a smile.
"i plan on being here as long as you'll let me," he said softly.
"always," you grinned, setting down the teddy bear and trading him for the real spencer reid.
"always," he repeated, taking you in his arms and squeezing you tightly as if you'd float away at any moment. "now let's dig into this food while you talk about your feelings, if you want that is," he said after releasing you from the hug.
"i think i want to," you nodded. "and spence?" he turned from getting the food out of the bag to look at you for a second. "thank you for being my rock through all of this."
"i'll always be your rock, y/n."
@averyhotchner  @greenprisca  @muffin-cup
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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years
Text
The Pact - Date #4
Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS
Word Count: 5.6k
Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?
Warnings: none, just some of the fluffiest fluff that ever did fluff
a/n: *heavy breathing into a paper bag* EVERYTHING IS FINE, JUST PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS M’KAY
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Date #4
series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist
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You’ve made it to Friday night without hearing a single thing about your upcoming date. Snuggled up on your couch, watching a rerun of NCIS and wishing that you could invite Hobi over to watch it with you, you hardly notice the sound of your phone pinging. It isn’t until your eyes are flying open at the sudden recollection of falling asleep on this very couch while Namjoon snacked on his McDonalds that you notice your phone pinging for the second time.
“Finally,” you sigh, scrambling to grab it from off the coffee table. As expected, it’s a text from Jungkook. However, the more you reread it, the more confused you grow.
“Check the mailbox?” You wonder aloud, shuffling off the couch and slipping your shoes on. Heading outside to investigate, you notice a suspicious car slowly driving by.
You know that car. And you’re pretty sure you recognize the people inside of it who are desperately trying to hide. You wave at them, laughing when Jungkook raises his hand to wave back only to have it slapped away by Jin, who laughs at the boy who obviously forgot that they were supposed to be hiding.
Stepping up to your mailbox, you eye the hastily sealed envelope before taking it back inside. The boys speed off into the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you rip into the letter.
Not letter, you realize as you slide the slip of paper out.
Boarding pass, with the final destination covered by a slip of dark tape and a firm note begging you not to remove it. And a teasing sentence that has you barking out a laugh.
You like surprises, don’t you?
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When there’s a knock on your door, you’re only aware of two things.
1.    Your shirt is on backwards.
2.    Only one eye is completely open. The other is still half-closed, trying to cling to sleep. You can’t really blame it. You were up until three trying to not freak out, and it’s barely six in the morning now.
“Coming,” you groan out as you attempt to throw your shirt on the correct way. Padding over to the door, you realize that there may be some perks to beginning your date this early in the morning. One obvious point being the fact that you’re too groggy to go through your usual freakout before opening up the door.
When you do open the door, it takes a moment to discern who’s actually on the other side.
Hidden beneath a long coat and black ball cap, Jimin looks at you with a look that rivals your own exhaustion. In fact, the way his puffy eyelids seem to be competing with his bread cheeks has you turning into a giggling mess right there in the doorway.
Jimin winces. “What’s so funny?” He croaks out. You shake your head, impossibly endeared by the boy before you. One of your best friends, the one whose words of encouragement have helped you throughout this entire dating process.
Today, you really feel his words in full force. You deserve to go on some fun dates with your friends. Just enjoy it.
“Are you regretting this yet?” You shoot back. Now Jimin does crack a smile, opening his eyes fully to regard you.
“Ask me again in a few hours.” He sways on your porch, stretching and yawning. “Got everything?”
You hurry back inside, a bit of adrenaline pumping through your system now that you’re actually about to go on this date.
While you’re pretty sure you passed over into ‘wildest dream’ territory approximately three dates ago, you still can’t quite wrap your head around everything.
While you’re running around like a mad-woman trying to gather up your things, you don’t notice Jimin easing inside and quietly closing the door behind him. He watches you with a forgotten smile on his lips, tilting his head back against the door so he doesn’t have to open his eyes all the way.
You’re just double checking that you have your passport and boarding pass when a familiar hand wraps around your arm. Gently turning you around to face him, Jimin still wears his smile as he pulls into his embrace.
Once you’re nestled into him, you let go of all the tension in your shoulders with a great big sigh. Jimin speaks against your hair, the vibrations of his voice running up and down your spine.
“I miss you,” he mumbles.
You can’t help but chuckle, thinking that he’s still too tired to think straight. “But I’m right here…?”
He shakes his head, taking the opportunity to nuzzle in a little closer. “I miss you all the time, though. Even when you’re right in front of me.”
You pull away just enough to see his face. He smiles down at you, almost as though completely unaware of the sad statement he just made. “That’s a sad feeling,” you whisper. There’s nothing for your to do but acknowledge it.
He nods slowly, stepping back and gesturing for you to hand him your bag. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s just the truth.”
And with that, he whisks you away.
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It’s been ages since you last traveled so far, but you take advantage of the chartered plane Jimin somehow convinced Bang Sihyuk to let him borrow, and stretch out.
Jimin does the same, bringing the blanket up to his chin while giving you a mock salute mere minutes after the plane took off.
“See you in ten hours,” he says before closing his eyes. You grin, absolutely positive that you won’t be able to sleep at all.
However, when you hear your name being called ages later, you crack an eye open to see none other than Park Jimin grinning like a fiend above you. It takes you a long moment to remember even getting on a plane, let alone what’s actually happening.
“We’re about an hour away,” Jimin chimes, giving you space to sit up and hopefully wipe the drool off of your face without him noticing. “So, would you like to know what our plans are for the day?”
“Yes,” you croak out, stretching. A glance at Jimin shows you that he must have changed clothes and gotten ready while you were sleeping. He now sports a black bucket hat paired with a dark t-shirt and mismatched denim jacket. He taps his boots on the floor, a sign of his excitement.
“Did you sleep well?” He asks. “You were out for nearly nine hours.”
You blink. How that happened is beyond you. Perhaps it had something to do with all of the overthinking you’ve been up to over the past week, leaving you utterly drained. “I slept great,” you admit. “Will you tell me where we’re going now?”
You peek out the window to see if that’ll give you a hint, but all you see it blue skies and unmarked land below.
“I will when we land,” he says. “First thing’s first, I’m sure you’re hungry. I was thinking we grab some food first thing. Now, take your pick: inside or outside?”
You glare at him for not revealing the location yet. For all you know, he could have paid someone to just fly the plane around in circles for hours and land you in Busan.
“Uh…outside.”
Jimin smiles, clearly pleased with your choice. “Good. Ok, next choice. Basilica or shopping?”
“B-basilica?!” You spit out, looking at Jimin as though he just announced he was taking you to the moon. “Where are we-“ You stop mid-sentence, holding your breath as is your habit whenever you get excited. “Wait…”
Jimin’s smile only grows. “Yes?” He asks with perfect piety.
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Leave it to Park Jimin to look at a 24-hour window and decide to take you to Russia.
The second you’re off the plane and jumping into a taxi, you’re squealing like a school-girl.
“Park Jimin, I swear if this is all some dream and I’m about to wake up soon-” you hardly finish your sentence, mouth dropping open as you pass by a huge cathedral.
Jimin, on the other hand, looks quite content. He’s been here several times before; a fact that you’ve always brought up when talking about travelling with the boys. Russia has been on the top of your bucket-list for years now. Every time Jimin went he’d make sure to bring you back something special.
For years you’ve been half-planning to go on a trip with him the next time he went. Of course, you never actually believed that you’d go. But still, it was worth dreaming about.
“It’s not Moscow,” Jimin laments from your side. “But I’ve always favored St. Petersburg.”
For good reason.
It’s a clear day, the sun shining off of the city streets as though they were made of gold and not the same concrete found all over the world. People appear to be in high spirits as well; many couple wandering about hand in hand.
And you’re here. With Jimin.
Just like you always dreamed about.
So when you make it to your destination where the two of you would be eating brunch, you can’t help but chew on your lip as tears spring to your eyes.
“Jimin-ah,” you begin as you’re led to your table. It’s outside, which you’d chosen. Facing a river which is filled with ferries and tourists chattering freely.
“Yeah?” He asks, taking in your expression and instantly reaching across the table to grab your hand. “Everything alright? Maybe you slept too much. Or is your stomach upset from the flight? I know that happens to me sometimes on longer flights-”
You shake your head. “No, it’s just…” you sigh, trying to figure out how to best voice what you’re feeling. “You brought me to Russia.”
Jimin squints at you as though reading a book that’s in a foreign language. “…yes.” When you don’t make eye-contact with him, he raises his eyebrows. “Is this making you uncomfortable? I knew we should’ve talked about it first, but everyone was so excited so I automatically thought that you would be too, you know? It’s just, we’ve talked about this for forever, so I thought it’d be fun to actually bring you. Since I couldn’t, before.”
You blink. “Everyone was excited about it?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jimin nods, sitting back in his seat. “Is that what you’re worried about? That I’m not being fair?”
Despite the hat sitting low on his head, you can see the worried glimmer in Jimin’s eyes. “I guess…” you squirm in your seat. “I really want to be here. I do. But don’t you think it’s a bit…well, it’s a bit much? For a first date? I mean, I would’ve been happy going through a drive-thru and chatting for a while.”
Now it’s Jimin’s turn to look a little lost. “Oh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”
A waiter comes by to check on you, and Jimin kindly explains that you’ll need more time to decide. Once they’ve disappeared from sight, Jimin sets his menu down and leans over the table.
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
Nodding to himself, Jimin looks out over the river before turning back to face you. “This is possibly the most rash, stupid, bizarre thing I’ve ever done.”
You choke on a laugh at his sudden declaration. “What?”
“It is. Seriously. I mean, I’ve traveled a lot and done plenty of stupid things, as you well know-”
“Oh, like the swimming pool incident-”
“Yah,” he waves you off frantically, “I wasn’t asking for examples!”
“Ah, right.” You gesture for him to continue, a grin growing on your face. Once he can tell you’re not about to go recounting every embarrassing moment you’ve witnessed, Jimin goes on.
“It really is stupid. I mean, who does this?” He points around the restaurant. “You’re right, we could’ve totally done something like we usually do; grab some takeout and chill. Maybe play a card game and lose miserably.”
“Wait, you lose or I lose?”
“Both. You know Jin would be there and he’d win.”
“Touché.”
Jimin sighs, throwing his chin onto the palm of his hand and looking at you with unveiled tenderness. “It’s not very often that we get free reign like this. So I thought it’d be nice, you know. To get to go do something a little crazy with you.”
You’re reminded of Taehyung’s route through Seoul, where he had a similar motive. If given the chance, wouldn’t you also like to take a day to just live a little? Even if it is a little unconventional?
Leaning back in your chair, you let out a breath of relief before bringing the menu up to your eyes and wiggling your brows at Jimin. “Well, then. I guess that makes sense. Although, I hope you know that you’re ruining my expectations for all other men I ever date.”
Mirroring your position, Jimin winks at you from over his menu. “Isn’t that the point?”
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Brunch is delicious. Would would’ve thought that Russians have nailed French-style breakfast foods?
You’re just scooping up the last of your crêpe when Jimin leans back with a satisfied groan. “So, what do you wanna do next?”
“Wait, I’m supposed to choose?” You ask. Jimin nods, languidly looking you over and smiling crookedly when he spots a bit of chocolate on your face. You quickly wipe it off. “I don’t know…” you look around for inspiration, eyes landing on the ferry closest to you. “Oh, that. Can we do that?”
“Sounds perfect. That’ll take us to the basilica, I think.”
You chuckle darkly. “You think? Wow, how wild. Lost in Russia.”
Jimin smiles warmly at the waiter that swoops in to hand him the check. If he recognizes Jimin, you have no idea. He simply waits patiently as Jimin hands him his card and waits for him to return.
“Lost in Russia?” Jimin claps his hands together, nearly slipping off his seat as he giggles. “Take that, Shawn Mendes!”
You groan even as you laugh, burying your face in your hands.
The ferry is bustling with tourists, making you buzz with excitement as you finally board. Jimin makes sure to keep his hand in yours so you don’t get separated, keeping his head down when a couple of people look his way with curious expressions.
Once the ferry begins its slow journey, you find yourself standing before a railing overlooking the calm waters. Jimin comes to stand behind you, resting his hands on either side of your own which cling to the railing. He rests his chin on your shoulder, humming a tune you don’t recognize.
“Aren’t you the one that loves Anastasia?” Jimin asks, the question a mere hum in your ear.
“Mmhm. That’s me.”
“You know that it’s-“
“Aish, Park Jimin if you’re about to go off about how historically inaccurate it is, I’ll personally shove you off this ferry.”
Jimin’s laugh has him resting against you completely, hiding his face in your back and making your cheeks turn a little red as people look your way.
“It’s a great movie,” Jimin concedes. “Really, it is.”
You nod. “Yes. It is. And don’t you forget it.”
“I’m guessing that you love Dmitri, then?” He’s returned to his spot at your shoulder, arms sliding in a little tighter until his pinkies are linked through yours. You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture, glancing down to take a mental picture.
“…yes.” You respond, a little wary that he’s about to start bashing on what is perhaps the most attractive animated character you’ve ever laid eyes on.
Instead, Jimin releases you from his grip and comes to stand by your side. Looking out over the river as though greeting an old friend, he rests his forearms against the railing. “What do you like about him?”
Well, isn’t today just chalk full of surprises.
“Well, for starters, he admits when he’s wrong. Despite the fame and money that he’s after, he’s actually pretty humble.” Your eyes drift over to the boy by your side. “He’s handsome,” Jimin snorts, nodding along reverently when you shoot him a glare. “And he just so clearly cares about Anastasia. Like, he’s willing to step out of the picture if that means she can be happy.”
A basilica comes into view, but you suspect that’s not the only thing taking your breath away.
No, it’s partly due to the fact that somehow, you’ve found yourself describing Jimin. If he realizes it, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he just winks at you, shooting you a smirk.
“Gotcha. Humble and hot.”
As the ferry docks at the opposite shore, you wonder if it’s too late to throw him overboard.
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The basilica is open for tourists, and you find that you’ve got a kink in your neck from staring up at the ceiling the entirety of the tour.
Neither one of you understand a single word that’s being said, not wanting to wait around for a Korean translator. Instead, you opt for nodding along and laughing when everyone else does.
You have your arm linked through Jimin’s, trying to get a good look at a painted mural when he whispers something to you.
“You know, I heard that you and Namjoon had a fun time last week.”
Quick enough to give yourself whiplash, you turn to stare at Jimin with wide, guilty eyes. “W-what are you…I mean, yeah. Yeah, it was nice.”
Jimin bursts out laughing, immediately drawing the attention of the tour group. The tour guide gives the two of you a disapproving glare, which Jimin takes as an invitation to hang back as everyone else continues walking.
“Nice? Really? I thought the man would be a better kisser than just nice.”
Absolutely horrified, you bury your head in your hands. “Ergh…didn’t think…can’t believe he’d…”
“What was that? Can’t hear you,” Jimin teases with a knowing smirk. You smack his arm instinctively, only making him laugh harder.
“Why would you bring that up now?” You whine, running a hand through your hair.
“Why wouldn’t I? In my defense, I at least kept quiet about it for hours.”
You squint at him, “How did you find out?”
“Told me the second he got in the car,” Jimin replies, smile growing at your expression. You’d thought that was Jimin who’d been on the phone with Namjoon when he’d called to be picked up. “If it makes you feel any better, it was absolutely hilarious.”
“How would that make me feel better?!”
Only cackling in response, Jimin takes off after the group. You glare after him, pressing your hands to your cheeks and closing your eyes.
Wrong decision. The second you close your eyes you’re presented with an onslaught of memories; primarily one of Namjoon towering over you in a wardrobe.
You chase after Jimin, determined to bring up one of his embarrassing moments that will surely make him turn into a blushing mess.
“Ok, but at least I know not to eat a whole bag of sugar-free gummy bears-”
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“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never been kicked out of a basilica before.”
The afternoon sun has quickly turned to the tell-tale golden hue of the evening. Jimin walks hand in hand with you down the street, the two of you the picture of calm and content.
“Me neither,” you sigh.
The tour guide didn’t take kindly to your bickering, quickly pointing to the exit once you’d resorted to attempting to stomp on Jimin’s feet like a child. He’d deserved it, though. Especially once he’d made a comment under his breath about the statue of lovers wrapped up in each other’s arms to be a spitting image of you and Namjoon.
“A wardrobe? Really?” Jimin shakes his head, tsking your behavior.
“Oh, shut up,” you hiss.
Wow. Jimin really is the Dmitri to your Anastasia. It would appear like he’s completely embodied the role he has throughout the first half of the movie, in which he’s endlessly annoying.
“Alright, alright. I’ll drop it.” He hold up a hand in innocence. “Should we get some skewers before the next thing?”
“I’d like to skewer you-”
“What was that, jagiya?” Jimin asks with a smirk.
“Oh, I just said that that sounds delicious.”
“Mhmm.”
Together you locate some delicious street-food, entering some sort of food heaven when the first bite touches your lips. “This is amazing,” you say around the food.
Jimin groans, closing his eyes as he eats up. “Here, try this.” He extends the skewer to you, leaning into your side as you sit together on the bench. Cupping your chin, he feeds you the next slice of meat, watching your reaction carefully.
You hum as the flavor makes your tastebuds dance, eyes growing wide as Jimin swipes a thumb over your bottom lip, gathering up the excess sheen from the juicy meat. You watch, completely enraptured as he pops the digit in his mouth without a second thought, taking another bite of the food as though nothing happened.
All you know is that you wouldn’t mind that happening again.
“S-so what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” You ask, voice a little higher than usual as you attempt to calm your beating heart.
“Mm, lemme check,” Jimin mumbles, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Oh! How is today going by so fast?”
“What?”
“We’ve got just enough time to pick out a souveneir before the show starts.” Rising from the bench, he takes another bite of his food. “Shall well?” You take his hand, allowing him to pull you up.
“What show?”
He looks you over. “You’ve heard of the Russian Ballet, right?”
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You’re severely underdressed for a night out at the ballet, but Jimin reassures you that no one will notice. Together, the two of you roam about the Meriinsky theater’s souvenir shop.
“Oooh, Jimin, look!” You hold up a shirt with a burly man in a tutu. “You should totally get this.”
Jimin turns to face you, dissolving into a fit of laughter that has him falling to his knees. “No way, that’s horrible!”
You shrug, looking back and forth from the shirt and back to him. “I don’t know, I think it’d look kinda hot.”
Smile wiped from his face, Jimin snatches the shirt from you. “I’m getting it. Don’t try to stop me.”
You end up finding a similar shirt – this one has a ballerina balancing huge logs on her shoulders – to get with Jimin. Just as you head up to the cashier, you see Jimin sliding a small box across the table for the cashier to ring up.
“What’s that?” You ask, placing your shirt on top of his in the bag he holds open. Jimin shrugs.
“Just something.”
You frown. “That was vague.”
Tapping your nose, Jimin grins and nods at the cashier before taking the box and placing it inside the bag before you can get a good look at it. “So observant.”
The ballet begins their show at 6 o’clock. You sit near the front, in a spot that appears to be fairly inconspicuous. Jimin sits with the bag of your souvenirs placed under his chair, out of sight from your prying eyes.
You can’t help but feel like royalty as you look around the historic theater. It’s filled to the brim with natives and foreigners alike, most of which are dressed to the nines. The golden, old lighting casts shadows on everyone, thick fabric draping itself around the box seats.
Suddenly you remember what Jimin said to you so early this morning. I miss you even when you’re right in front of me.
It makes sense, now. There’s ache in your chest as you look around the theater, trying to memorize every last detail, knowing that this may very well be the last time you ever see it in such grandeur. The thought nearly rips your heart out of your chest. Knowing that this feeling is only temporary. You’re only royal for a day.
You turn to mention it to Jimin, only to find him looking at you in the same way you’ve looked at the theater.
Like you’re as timeless as the music that drifts up from the orchestra, and he’s just found out that he’s on a mortal timeline.
You will remain like this forever in his memory. Eyes bright and your right knee nervously bouncing up at down, only to be soothed by the sound of a lone violin that stands out amongst the other flurry of instruments.
He smiles, the action so at odds with the heavy look in his eyes. Reaching out, you take his hand from his lap, and without a single thought other than the way the golden lights are dimming and so is the look of pain in Jimin’s eyes, you press your lips to the tip of his knuckles. Once.
Twice.
And one more time, making it to his pinky knuckle and smiling against it before planting a kiss that feels more like a breath against it.
It’s nearly pitch black now, the curtains pulled open to reveal the breathtaking ballerina, but you find that you can’t quite look away. Not as Jimin continues to look at you with that indescribable expression that has somehow shifted into something more. He brings his hand back to his lap, enveloping your hand in both of his.
“It’s starting,” he breathes out.
You know that he means the production is beginning. Indeed, in your peripheral you see the ballerina who doubles as Sleeping Beauty tonight takes to the stage amidst the sound of awed clapping. But you can’t help but find a different meaning in those two words.
It’s starting to get harder.
Because anytime you close your eyes, you see Namjoon before you in the wardrobe, tentative hope in his eyes.
Because your wrist burns with Hobi’s bracelet linked around it, a constant reminder of the ghost of his lips on your palm.
Because you wake up in the middle of the night every night, looking to your doorway in hopes of finding Taehyung leaning against it with a smirk that does nothing to fool you.
And now there’s Jimin, filling your mind with his confession this morning. I miss you.
You’ve unknowingly boarded a runaway train.
Who cut the brakes on this thing?
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The ballet is beautiful.
Like, beautiful in the way that you don’t want it to ever end. The music coming from the pit weaves the story, the ballerinas working in tandem with every note to bring it to life.
Once you enter into the final act, you find yourself squeezes Jimin’s hand as though watching a horror movie. He traces soothing patterns against your skin even as he quietly laughs.
“How’re you holding up over there?” He drawls in your ear.
“I don’t want it to end,” you reply, nibbling on your bottom lip.
Like all good things, it does. Jimin allows you to linger for a while longer, even after most of the people of exited the building. You remain in your seat, staring up at the stage now covered by thick curtains, almost as though waiting for the production to start up again.
Finally, you notice the ache in your legs from sitting in a confined space for so long, and get up.
“How was it?” Jimin asks, leading you out of the marvelous theater.
You blink. “How was it? I…I think my soul left my body for a minute back there.”
You walk out to find that night has fallen, Jimin laughing up at the stars. “Wow. That’s a pretty intense experience.”
“Yeah, well.”
Skipping ahead of you, Jimin turns around to face you with a silly grin. “We’ll come back someday,” he promises. “Maybe we’ll go to Moscow. They perform ‘Black Swan’ there.”
You blink. “And they don’t in St. Petersburg?”
Jimin shrugs, reaching out for your hands, which you extend to him. He continues walking backward, unwilling to let go of either hand. “They haven’t, yet.”
“Why not?”
“It has something to do with the political climate here versus in Moscow.”
“Huh.” You take a moment to take in the view before you, Jimin looking like he belongs here among the stars and streetlamps. “You seem to know a lot about the Russian Ballet.”
Again, he shrugs, this time accompanied by a crooked smile. “I read about it on the flight over.” He pauses, waiting for you to catch up to him before walking side by side. “Which, speaking of flights…”
“Don’t we have one to catch?”
“Exactly.”
It’s painful, leaving St. Petersburg behind. You watch through the window of the airplane as you take off, the lights winking at you in a silent goodbye.
Jimin watches from the opposite side of the plane, an absent-minded smile yet again on his face. He quietly orders a bit of food for the two of you, knowing that you’ll be hungry soon.
Once St. Petersburg vanishes from your view, you glance over at Jimin who fiddles with the safety pamphlet.
“That was amazing.”
He furrows his brows, not looking up yet. “What? The plane taking off?”
“No, you know what I mean.” He continues to look at you, feigning ignorance. “All of it. That…date. That was seriously a dream.”
Jimin openly stares at you for a moment as though not expecting such a reaction before averting his eyes. You watch with amusement as his cheeks flood with pink, a silent testament to how flustered you can make him.
“Yeah,” he coughs awkwardly. “I guess you could say…it was nice.” He looks at you expectantly.
You frown, not quite understanding what he means until – “Jimin!”
He sinks low in his seat, body shaking with laughter. “First thing I do when we get back is tell Namjoon you said that about your kiss. I’m not even kidding,” he says as he wipes fake tears from his eyes.
“Just- yah!” Absolutely embarrassed, you turn to stare out the window again, ignoring the laughing boy.
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Your mind is dazed once you return to Seoul, clambering inside a car that Jimin is somehow able to drive despite being clearly exhausted from the long flight. You share a comfortable silence as you replay that events of the past 24 hours in your mind.
The sound of the orchestra is still ringing in your ears by the time Jimin pulls up in front of your apartment. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t need to get out of the car when he’s hurry around to open your door.
“You look exhausted,” you remark sleepily.
He doesn’t have the energy to pretend to be offended. “So do you.”
Indeed you do, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the car window before setting off toward your door. The few steps up to your apartment appear to be the same as Mount Everest, Jimin’s hand on the small of your back proving to be the only thing keeping you moving forward.
You watched four movies on the flight back. Jimin had urged you to try to at least nap, but you couldn’t. You were too wired, mind running nonstop with different ideas and memories. And now you’re paying the price as you stumble up the stairs.
Once Jimin has ascertained that you’re not about to fall over, he takes his hand off your back. “Made it,” he mumbles out.
“Mmm.”
He chuckles softly, reaching out to pull you in for a soft hug. It’s warm in his arms, making you close your eyes and rest against his shoulder. You could stay here for hours-
“Don’t go falling asleep on me,” Jimin quietly warns, looking at you fondly as he pulls away. He notes your still-closed eyes and leans in to peck your cheek.
He grins when he pulls away, seeing that your eyes are now wide open. You’re a little flushed from the unexpected peck, but it’s still dark enough in the early morning light that you hope he doesn’t notice.
“Here, your souvenir,” he hands you the bag from the Meriinsky theater, which you take. “Go in and sleep.”
Once you manage to get the door unlocked, you’re slipping inside and waving goodbye as Jimin hurries back down to his car. Just before he gets in, you call out to him.
“Jimin-ah!”
He holds the drivers-side door open. “What?”
Giving him another little wave, you shout, “Thank you!”
“Anytime.”
With that, he hops in and drives away.
You don’t remember walking to your bedroom, but you’re grateful that you’ve found your bed. Still holding the bag, it swings down to hit your legs.
“Ow!” Something solid hits your shin from inside the bag, leading you to investigate its contents.
Hiding beneath your shirt you got, sits the small box you’d spied Jimin buying. On top of it sits a crinkled post-it note, one he must have found while you were immersed in your movies on the flight.
To my Anastasia – hopefully this will be enough to say ‘thank you’.
Brows furrowed in curiosity, you slide the box open and pull out a small object wrapped in bubble wrap. Carefully unwrapping it, your mouth falls open in a silent gasp when you uncover your little present.
It’s a music box.
Opening it, you ignore the little tears springing to your eyes as it reveals a ballerina, spinning in perfect circles to the music that dives out.
Setting it on your nightstand, you close your eyes and let the music ease you into your dreams. You’re left with a distinct feeling that lingers even when you wake up hours later.
You still feel like royalty.
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please let me know what your thoughts are! You don’t necessarily have to be rooting for one of the boys specifically, but let me know who you think has the best shot/who you really swooned over! ;)
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taglist: @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine​ @hqtetsurou​ @protontippens​ @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797  @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld   @luvtaeha @fanfictionreader05 @mininimmy @dreadity  @starlight-night0 @luzaroon @seaoffangirling @prachi05 @fangirl125reader @bluehairedotakugem @hunnibxbe @kayahay  @seokjinmoonfics @littletinyhobi @honeyhalcyon @yoontaethings @herrmionejgranger  @delacyrose224
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extasiswings · 3 years
Text
Get in, clowns.  We’re going to the circus.  On ao3.
Eddie’s palms are sweaty.
It’s warm outside, the sun beating down on the park bench where he’s sitting, but it’s the nerves that have his hands clammy as he turns his water bottle over between them.  
When Buck had walked in the house earlier, he’d taken one look at Eddie and rolled his eyes before shoving him back into his bedroom.
“You can’t wear that,” Buck said, rifling through Eddie’s dresser.  He emerged with Eddie’s tightest pair of jeans and shoved them at his chest before turning to the drawers with shirts.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Eddie asked, baffled as he looked down at himself and then, skeptically, at the jeans.
“You look like a dad.”  Buck’s voice went muffled for a moment before he made a noise of victory and pulled out a deep red, long-sleeved shirt that Eddie’s pretty sure is at least a size too small. 
“Kind of hard not to.  Since I am one and all.  That’s not exactly a secret.”
“Yeah, but you can look like a hot dad who is making an effort instead of a regular dad going to the grocery store or something.  You’ll thank me later.”  
After Eddie had changed and walked out of the bathroom, Buck’s face shifted—Eddie could have sworn his eyes darkened, that his voice was rougher as he pronounced Eddie much better.
So Eddie knows he looks good.
But his palms are still sweaty.  He uncaps the water bottle and takes a sip more to have something to do than because he needs it.  And then he starts drumming his fingers against his thigh, needing something to occupy them, some way to move.  
He’s tempted to pull out his phone, to reread the latest texts from Bobby or even the shameless teasing in the group text that Buck started with his sisters—and boy, was that a mistake, putting the three of them in touch, because Eddie never in a million years would have told them he was going on a date if he hadn’t done it by accident because Buck’s direct messages happened to be right below the group—
He’s still not sure he should be, is the thing.  Dating.  He still feels like he can’t quite breathe right when he thinks too hard about it.  Can still play that last dinner with Shannon over on loop, from her asking for a divorce to the implication that really being with him again would be so terrible she would have to run for the hills and leave their child behind.
He didn’t exactly have great self-esteem to begin with.
Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans—he’s in the middle of debating whether it’s bad parenting to make up an emergency involving your kid to get out of a date, when—
“Eddie!  Hi,” Ana greets, walking up the path.  
The anxiety in his chest twists tighter as he gets up from the bench and waves.
“Hey.  You, uh—you look really nice,” he says, because it’s true and also the easiest thing he can remember from the last time he did this.  
Ana smiles.  “So do you.”
There’s a pause that lingers a little too long and then they both start trying to speak at once, cutting off abruptly when they realize.  Eddie rubs self-consciously at the back of his neck.
“Should we walk?” Ana offers, nodding down the path where it leads into the trees.
“Sure, yeah,” Eddie agrees.  
It’s actually not...bad.  She asks him about work and that’s a safe enough topic that he’s comfortable spending a few minutes telling her stories from the station.  She shares a little about the challenges of virtual teaching.  And then she asks about Chris, and, well, that’s an easy subject—Eddie could talk about Chris all day.  
He just finishes the story about the actual building of Christopher’s skateboard—which involved no small amount of comical trial and error on the part of two decidedly not Chris-sized grown men—when Ana gets a thoughtful look on her face and glances sideways at him.
“Can I ask you something personal?”  She asks.
Eddie rocks back on his heels and hooks his thumbs in his pockets.  “Sure.”
“How long has it been for you?”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up.  “Since...the last time I dated?”
Ana nods.
“Well…” He wets his lips to stall.  “The last person I dated was my wife.  And I’m not sure it was really dating in the same way after we were married so...I guess...eleven years give or take?”
He laughs and he can hear the edge of self-deprecation.  “That obvious I’m out of practice?”
“No,” Ana says.  “No, that wasn’t—it’s really not actually. Although it does explain some things.”
“Things?”
She bites her lip.  “Nothing bad,” she insists.  “Just—”
“Have you ever been on a date where the other person talked about their ex the whole time and it was kind of obvious they still had feelings for them and you couldn’t help wondering why they weren’t with the ex when they clearly wanted to be?”  She asks.
Eddie blinks, scrolling back through their conversation trying to think—he’s pretty sure he hasn’t mentioned Shannon except for the once.  And he’s not still—
“In high school, maybe?” He answers.  “But I’m not sure—”
“I was trying to figure out if you and Buck ever dated,” she clarifies, and Eddie stops in his tracks, his mind shorting out as he takes that in.
“I—what?”
They’re back at the parking lot anyway, and although they could take another loop around the park, Ana stops by the closest bench and smiles as she leans against it.
“Look, I like you, Eddie,” she says.  “And if I’m totally off base and you want to see me again, I will definitely pick up the phone.  But if I’m not?  I couldn’t not say something.”
“Buck’s my best friend,” Eddie replies.  His head is swimming but it surprisingly doesn’t feel bad.  More like he’s been handed the clue card for a puzzle he was trying to solve and while the pieces haven’t quite come together fully, they’re getting there.
“You talk about him like he’s your partner.  Like the three of you are a family.  And when you talk about him you look like…”  Ana shakes her head and laughs, but it’s not unkind.  Just soft and maybe a little longing.  “I would love for someone to look like that when they’re talking about me.  Thinking about me.  So, I thought you should know.  Just in case you didn’t.”
Another puzzle piece falls into place and Eddie sucks in a breath.
“I do like you,” he says.
“Yeah...but you’re in love with him.  Right?”  Eddie’s quiet and Ana nods.
“I’m gonna go,” she decides.  “This was nice, for the record.  Maybe we can do it again.  As friends next time.”
“Ana—” Eddie calls after her.  When she looks back over her shoulder though, he’s not sure what to say except, “...thank you.”
“Let me know how it works out?” She asks.  “I’m a little invested now.”
Eddie laughs and runs a hand through his hair.  “Yeah...sure.”  
He drives home in a daze, so much of the past two years—maybe even longer—suddenly thrown into new light.  Everything he’s been afraid of, everything that’s been holding him back—all of the baggage and insecurities that Shannon left behind, that have made him feel like he’s not good enough, like he can’t be a partner to anyone—
He never stopped and looked too hard at what he already had.  What he was already doing.
What he has.  What he is doing.   
With Buck.
In the stark glare of hindsight, it’s easy to see—he was still married when they met, was worn down and bruised and not looking for anything.  He needed a friend and Buck slipped in to fill that void and Eddie...put him in a box.  Put them in a box.  Carefully compartmentalizing every aspect of his life because it was easier that way, because it allowed him to sort through the tangled knots of expectation from any number of other sides, any number of other identities—husband, father, son.
There was no baggage attached to friend.  No forgive and forget and take your wife back because kids need their mothers or you’ll drag him down with you or I wasn’t enough.
There was just...Buck.  Present.  Supportive.  Caring about him.  Believing in him.   The real him—masks off, walls down, warts and all.   
The longer Eddie thinks, the clearer things become.  His mind flips through memories like a scrapbook—panic attacks and phone calls at two in the morning, nights on the couch playing video games with Christopher and the slower, lingering moments with just the two of them after they put him to bed, all those months sharing a bed in Buck’s apartment while he despaired over being away from his son and Buck reminded him he was a good dad—
How many of those nights had Eddie wanted to kiss him?  How many times had he felt that buzz under his skin, the whisper of it would be so easy, only to shove it down because it was too dangerous to deal with.  
And when he thinks now about the future, about having someone in his home, in his bed, in his life, when he pictures it, all he can see is Buck.
It feels right.
“I love him,” Eddie says out loud, tasting the words on his tongue, letting them linger.
I love him.
His pulse spikes with his anxiety, but it calms down as he sits with it.  Because he knows Buck’s not going to leave.  He trusts that.  Buck’s seen him at his worst and none of that has ever driven him away.  So maybe…
Eddie’s mind flicks back to earlier in the day, to the dark heat in Buck’s gaze as it dragged over him before he looked away.
...yeah.  They’ll be okay.
He’s home before he even really registers and takes a few slow breaths before he shuts off the truck and gets out.  When he steps through the door, it’s a strange feeling.  The space is familiar but not.  More...settled somehow.  Home.
Home.
Eddie closes the door behind him and follows the sound of running water to the kitchen.  He stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and spends a moment just watching Buck scrub potatoes in the sink until the other man glances up and notices him.
“Hey,” Buck greets.  “Chris is reading in his room, I’m just working on dinner.  How was the date?”
God, I love you, Eddie thinks, and nearly has to bite his tongue to keep it to himself.
Yeah.  It’s right.
He shrugs.  “It was fine.  Ana’s nice.”
“When’s the next date then?”  There’s an odd note in Buck’s voice that makes Eddie push off the frame and step closer. 
“There’s not going to be one,” he replies.  “Ana’s nice...but I don’t want to date her.”
Buck stops.  Shuts off the water and turns, leaning back against the sink.
“No?”  Buck’s brow furrows.  “It’s not—do you still feel like you’re not ready?”
“No, it’s not that,” Eddie replies.  “I do think I’m ready.  But with the right person.”
His heart is pounding in his chest, but it’s not fear.  More...anticipation.  
He swallows hard.
“Ana said something that made me realize that...I don’t want to start from scratch with some stranger.”
Eddie takes another step closer and Buck inhales sharply, emotions shifting across his face too quickly for Eddie to name them all.
“Eddie…”  Buck sounds hoarse, a little disbelieving.  He leans forward for a moment before shaking his head, clearing his throat.
“I can’t—I need you to be specific,” he says.  “Because I can’t make assumptions here, I can’t—”
Eddie kisses him.  Steps in far enough that Buck’s body presses flush against his, slides his hand around the back of Buck’s neck, and kisses him.  Buck makes a small noise and grips him right back, his hands curving around Eddie’s hips nearly tight enough to bruise in sharp contrast to the way Eddie’s mouth feathers against his, soft as anything.  
“Specific enough?”  Eddie breathes, staying close enough that their lips brush again.  Buck surges up and uses his grip on Eddie’s hips to turn them, pinning Eddie against the counter as he kisses him again in response.  Once, twice, three times, and Eddie shivers.  
He hasn’t been kissed in so long, hasn’t been touched with intention like this—he’d forgotten what it felt like.  His body floods with heat as Buck’s hands slip under his shirt, spreading wide over his rib cage, and he parts his lips eagerly for Buck’s tongue.
Down the hall, a door closes, and Buck jumps back, Eddie slumping against the counter to keep himself upright.  Buck is flushed and panting and Eddie’s pretty sure he can’t look much better, too warm and electric, wanting, wanting, wanting—
Both of them catch their breath and watch the door, but Christopher doesn’t appear.  After a minute Eddie catches the faint sound of a toilet flushing and he looks back at Buck.  
And he laughs.  It bubbles up from his chest like champagne fizz, bright and warm and right, and apparently it’s contagious because Buck starts up as well, stepping in again and sliding his arms around Eddie’s waist, ducking his head to laugh breathlessly against Eddie’s neck.
When they calm down, Buck stays close, his lips feathering over Eddie’s pulse.  Eddie hums and closes his eyes as he tips his head back to give Buck better access.  
“I’m in love with you,” he says.  “In case that wasn’t clear.”
Buck’s lips curve up against Eddie’s skin.
“Well that’s convenient,” he replies.  “Since Chris was asking me earlier why you couldn’t just date me if you were going to date again.”
Eddie’s startled into another laugh.  “Really?”
“Really.”
Eddie grins and opens his eyes again.  “Hey Buck?”
“Yeah?”
“Go out with me?”
Buck snorts and pushes him out of the way so he can go back to the potatoes.  
“Help me finish getting dinner together and we’ll see.”  But the second Eddie turns away, Buck snags him by a belt loop and reels him back in for another kiss.
“Yes,” Buck says.  “Yes.”
And it’s right.           
309 notes · View notes
blooberrywizard · 3 years
Text
Der Katzenprinz
The full story and scene transcript for my fellow critters!
[Jester knocks on Calebs door]
Caleb: Ja?
Jester: Um, could you... could you cast tongues on me? *Flustered* I mean you know the spell where you can make me understand languages or whatever?
Caleb: Ja, I could do that
Jester: I just want to read the book, Caleb
Caleb: You want to read it yourself?
Jester: Well... I mean...
Caleb: I could read it to you if you want?
Jester: *Awkward* Okay. It could take awhile.
Caleb: Are we talking about uh, prince and cat?
Jester: Yeah the cute cat with the hat!
[Caleb brings Jester into his room and they settle on the couch]
Jester: Well this is a boring room Caleb. You really decked everyone else out
Caleb: Well it took a lot of effort for you all so no time for me
Jester: Aw
Caleb: Okay so, this is meant for children
Jester: Okay
Caleb: My mother read it to me when I was very little. Uh it's called The Cat Prince.
Jester: The Cat Prince. Okay
Caleb: Uh, okay
[Story Begins]
Once upon a time in a little house on the edge of a great wide wood lived a young boy with his mother. The poor boy was sick and spent much of his days in bed watching the days pass by from a little window in his room. The boy's mother loved him very much but as it was just the two of them and the boy was ill of health and frail of form, everyday she had to make the journey to town where she worked in the kitchens of the local lord. While she was gone the boy would mind the house, read one of their precious few books, and observe the bees and the trees [Caleb: Oh that rhymes when I translate it. Jester: *giggles*] and the birds in their flight as he spent the greater part of time resting in bed. The boy knew his mother loved him and her time away was all for his sake and he was grateful to her and loved her in return but it was a lonely life spending his days rereading some of the same books or talking to the air in their little home on the woods edge.
One day [Liam explains it's all illustrated and how Jester is next to him on the couch so he can show her the pictures] as the boy sat in bed looking out at the fields that lay between his home and the woods he noticed a cat making its way out of the forest. [Caleb: It's been a long time since I've read this] It was not long the boy realized clearly making its way towards his home was no ordinary cat for upon his head he wore a little top hat. And if that were not strange enough on it's own as the cat pattered up beneath the boy's window he stood, doffed his cap, took a bow and said,
"Greetings young master! You look as if you could use a bit of dancing!"
The boy stunned by these words from the dapper little cat could scarcely find his voice.
"Oh no, Sir," Said the boy, "I don't know how to dance. Nor am I made for it."
"Nonsense," Said the cat, "Why anyone can dance if only they look to. Come out of doors and let me show you."
And as he spoke the cat dawned his hat and began to turn in circles and dance. [Caleb: And he's dancing on the page] The boy was curious but said,
"Good Sir cat, I am afraid I am ill! My lungs are too weak and my bones are too frail!"
"Oooh maybe they are and maybe they aren't," The cat replied, "But either way you do not want to languish one more day in bed while watching the world go by, do you? Come take a walk with me through the fields and I will show you how to dance."
Overcoming his doubts the boy managed to climb down from his window and walk a few steps closer. This was no ordinary cat and no ordinary day and though he felt unsure his heart did leap a little and he began to follow the marvelous little cat through the grass. Slowly at first but with more vigor as they crossed the fields and eventually he found himself stepping under the shade of the woods for the first time in a great many years.
All the while the cat frolics and capered as they wound their way deeper into the wood and eventually the boy found himself stepping into a ring of trees. The cat whirling about his hat in hand, the furry little dancer twirled around the boy laughing and calling while the boy watched, his mouth agape. And then quick as a flash the cat brought his top hat down right atop the boy's head who was very suddenly plunged into darkness.
[Jester: Is this going to be a sad story Caleb? Caleb: *Grins and turns the page*]
But only a moment because all about him, shining in the dark, he saw the glow of hundreds of eyes. Feline eyes glimmering in the dark. Suddenly about him lanterns flared to life and the boy saw he was no longer in the wood at all. Here he saw a grand ballroom festively decorated and and filled to the brim with cats. Big cats, small ones, old cats, young ones. Cats of every breed and color and in the center of the great hall upon a stage stood the boy's feline guide. Only now he was dressed in very fine robes and upon his head sat a thin golden crown of wrought golden leaves.
[Jester: He's a prince! Caleb: Which is illustrated right there. Beautiful little cat. Well worn pages.]
The boy stood in wonder and amazement as the great host of cats bowed to their prince and then in turn bowed to him.
"The world of men is heavy and hard," The princely cat proclaimed, "But here across the veil we move with lighter step. Dance with us child and forget your troubles for a spell."
All at once scores of cats closed in around the boy purring and turning about his legs as thick as the sea. And as they moved so too did the boys feet. He swirled amongst them like a cork on the water and before he knew it the boy was dancing. Dancing and dancing as he never imagined he could. And his breath much to his surprise was hearty and hale. He found he no longer felt ill in the least. Hours passed and he and all the cats danced without end and the prince of cats more than all of them. After a long while the boy suddenly remembered his mother and immediately feared she would worry. He stopped in the middle of the great hall and called out to the prince of cats,
"Forgive me, Sir cat, but I can no longer stay! My mother will worry! I have to return!"
All the cats parted before him and the prince approached the boy.
"Are you sure, boy? You could stay and dance for us for as long as you wish. For ever and ever and ever."
"I cannot," The boy replied, "My mother has only me and I would no leave her alone. Forgive me."
The prince of cats looked on the boy with a sympathetic eye,
"Not at all, young one. Fear not a wit. You do your mother credit."
And with that the prince of cats stepped closer.
"Do not look so crestfallen. Take our cat's grace with you. You can always dance if the will is there."
And from behind his back he brought out his top hat again and pulled it over the boys eyes and once again all was dark.
[*Caleb dramatically flips the page making Jester laugh*]
Sometime later the boy stirred and his eyes fluttered open. He looked about and discovered he had been asleep in the wood and the sun now dappled his face through the trees. Next he noticed a thread bare patched top hat lying in the soft grass beside him. He gingerly picked it up and stood within the same circle of trees. As he did so he took a deep breath and smelled the earth and the forest and as he did he realized his breath was strong and his legs hearty.
"Danke," He said.
As he looked down at the hat in his hands and placing it upon his head he smiled, kicked up his heels, and quietly started to dance his way all the way back home.
The End.
[End of story]
Jester: That was a happy story Caleb!
Caleb: *Nods* That's why my mother read it to me
Jester: I really felt like the cat prince was going to trap him in there forever and then he wouldn't be able to go see his mom again
Caleb: Well a lot of Zemnian stories do end that way, it is true.
Jester: The cat prince kinda reminds me of The Traveler!
Caleb: That's true isn't it?
Jester: Ya.. wow
Caleb: A little dicey but very likeable
Jester: *Laughs* Good in the end, ya know?
Caleb: Ja... ja
Jester: That was a really good story
Caleb: I am happy that I could share it with you
Jester: Me too. Thank you
Caleb: Mmhm
Jester: Can I have it back?
Caleb: Oh ja, it is your copy. It will vanish when you leave here though but it is yours
Jester: *Stares at the book, running her thumb over it before hugging it to her chest* Thank you
Caleb: *Nods and quietly says 'Ja'*
Jester: Alright goodnight, Caleb
Caleb: Ja goodnight.... Guten nacht...
Jester: *Giggles*
443 notes · View notes
lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years
Text
Show Not Tell - Harry Potter
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Title:  Show, Not Tell Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!reader Summary: The four times Harry told the reader how he felt about them without quite saying it and the one time he finally did A/N: this is for the anon who wanted some fluff with Harry! Requests are open!
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Harry has always had a hard time with words. Whether he’s saying the absolutely wrong thing, or he’s saying something bad without realizing it or he just simply can’t find the right words he can just never seem to get it right.
Which makes it pretty hard for him to let the people around him know how much he cares for and appreciates them. Thankfully, after years of being around Harry and witnessing his social blunders, his friends have learned to pay attention to the intention behind his words, and not necessarily what he’s actually saying.
His inability to express himself properly isn’t really a problem, until he finds the one person in life he wants to tell everything to. He had been aware of Y/N during his time at Hogwarts, but he never really noticed her until he ran into her again a few years after the war. He’s immediately captivated by her warm smile and her presence turns his brain to mush.
I wanted to see you again.
It’s late August, and the collar of Harry’s work shirt is stuck to the sweat on the back of his neck. He’s just finished having lunch with Ron in Diagon Alley and decided to duck into Flourish and Blotts to see if he can find a birthday gift for Hermione before he has to head back to work.
Her birthday is still a few weeks out, so he’s just casually browsing some of the titles near the back of the store when he hears someone come up behind him.
“Hi! Is there something I can help you find?”
The person’s voice is sweet and melodic and when Harry turns around he’s met with a familiar face. The young woman looking at him is earth shatteringly beautiful and his mind races as he tries to figure out where he knows her from.
“Oh, Harry! How’s it going? It’s nice to see you,” the woman says as they make eye contact, a smile spreading across her face. When Harry still doesn’t say anything, too entranced by her beauty, she continues. “I’m Y/N. I was in the year above you at school,” she reminds him with a laugh.
Harry remembers her instantly, a pretty embarrassing memory of him tumbling into her lap in the common room while he was messing around with Ron coming to the forefront of his mind. He scratches the back of his head, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks.
“Oh yeah, Y/N. I’m doing well, thanks. Sorry about all of that. I’m pretty awful with names,” he says awkwardly, as if the words are fumbling out of his mouth.
She waves away his apology, the smile never leaving her face, which puts Harry at ease. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like we ever really hung out,” Y/N pauses, and Harry wonders if the same memory that came to his mind has come back to her. “And you had way more important things to be thinking about back in those days.”
“Yeah, my brain is pretty empty these days,” he responds. A moment later he realizes how idiotic that was and he’s tempted to hit himself over the head with one of the heavy books on the shelf behind him. “Not empty, empty. Just not being possessed by Voldemort,” he continues desperately trying to save their conversation. “Wait, that sounds wrong. What I’m trying to say is. Honestly I have no idea what I’m trying to say.”
Y/N laughs again, and Harry swears it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. “I get what you’re trying to say. I think at least. Not too sure about that whole Voldemort thing, but I’ll let that one slide.” She sends Harry a wink and he can feel his heart flutter in his chest.
“I’ve got to get back to work, unfortunately,” he sighs, realizing the time. “But it was nice to see you again. And maybe I will see you again, some day in the future.”
What Harry meant to say, was that he would be back in the store again soon and that he’d see her then, but he just couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. He gives Y/N a final, awkward nod, before he leaves the store, too in his own head to see the pink flush on her cheeks.
Harry had spent the rest of his workday sitting at his desk, replaying the awkward interaction he’d had with Y/N over and over in his head. It’s been a long time since Harry has been embarrassed about his lack of social skills, but he can’t help but feel flustered as he goes through the situation over and over again. Y/N had been absolutely captivating, and he had been, well, less than stellar. But he’s determined to go back there and get it right. So, when the workday is done he heads straight back to Diagon Alley.
“Harry!” Y/N says excitedly when he enters the shop for the second time that day. “Back again so soon?” Her tone is light and teasing, causing Harry to smile at her.
“I thought I might see you here again.” Of course, you would see her here again you idiot, she works here he scolds himself. “Hang on, that’s not what I meant to say,” he continues with a nervous laugh. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders tensing up as he tries to find the right words in the jumble of his brain. “What I mean to say was, I wanted to see you again.”
Y/N can feel her face flushing, and she immediately drops her gaze to the papers in front of her and begins to fuss with them. “I was uh, hoping that you’d come back in, actually.”
“Really?” Harry asks in surprise. When Y/N nods Harry feels his shoulders relax and he takes a few tentative steps towards the counter she’s standing behind.
Y/N takes a moment to compose herself before she finally is able to look up at Harry, her cheeks still flushed. “Yes, really. You’re quite captivating, Mr. Potter.”
Harry’s mouth opens and closes several times at her sentiment, trying to work out what exactly to say next. When he had thought back through their earlier conversation he had used many adjectives to describe his behavior, idiotic and embarrassing had been the most frequent, but none of them even came close to the level of captivating. If anything, he had been captivated by her, he was mesmerized by her smile and her warmth.
“Really?” It’s not the words he wants to come out of his mouth, but it’s the only one his brain has managed to remember. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. Usually he can stumble his way through a conversation and come out seeming somewhat normal, but whenever he’s around Y/N it’s as if he’s forgotten how to speak at all.
“Yes, really,” she says again, a small giggle falling from her lips. “I’ve got to start closing up the store now. But, do you maybe wanna get dinner? Perhaps this weekend?” She scribbles something down on a spare piece of parchment and holds it out to Harry. “Here’s my address. Just send me an owl.”
Harry gives her a curt nod and grabs the piece of parchment from her. Their fingers lightly brush against each other and Harry feels like his hand is on fire. “Brilliant,” he says with a quick smile, before he’s turning on his heel and fleeing from the store.
Owl me when you get home, so I know you’re safe.
Thankfully Harry is much better at getting his point across when he’s writing it down. Not wanting to seem too eager, Harry waited until he returned home from work the next day to send an owl to Y/N. He thought about waiting longer, but it was already Thursday and he really wanted to see her again over the weekend.
He’s on his seventh piece of parchment when he finally manages to find the right thing to say. He wanted to be eloquent to try and make up for his disastrous attempts at a conversation in person. But after his fourth failed attempt, he decided to just be himself. He keeps it simple and after rereading it a few times he sends it off to her so that he can’t over think it any more than he already has.
Y/N,
It was really, really nice to see you the other day. I hope you’ll meet me outside the Leaky Cauldron at 6 pm on Saturday so that I can take you out to dinner.
Yours,
HJP
Oh, it’s Harry by the way, Harry Potter. I wasn’t sure if you would know what my initials are. Anyway, I hope to see you again soon.
Harry watches his owl fly away and when she’s no longer visible he relaxes back against his couch, already thinking about how he’s going to mess up his date on Saturday.
-
Saturday at 6 pm arrives before Harry is quite mentally prepared, but as Y/N approaches him all his worries wash away. She looks breathtaking, and Harry can do nothing but wave weakly as she approaches.
Y/N smiles warmly at Harry, giggling to herself as she watches him fidget. She finds how awkward he is endearing, especially considering how famous he is. Growing up Y/N had been told stories about the entire Potter family, and how their bravery had led to the defeat of Voldemort. Harry’s fame had only grown during the years she had known him at school, since it seemed that he came face to face with Voldemort every year and managed to escape alive every time. So, it’s nice to see that even after all of that fame, even after his heroics during the war, he’s still a bit unsure of himself.
“Hi, Harry,” she greets cheerily.
Harry somehow manages to return her smile, despite the fact that she’s standing so close to him he can smell her perfume. “Hi, Y/N. You look like sunshine.” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Harry. You look very nice too.”
They stand there for a few seconds in silence before Harry realizes he should probably say something. He holds his arm out for her, which Y/N takes happily. “Let’s do this thing.”
-
Harry had chosen a muggle restaurant not too far from the Leaky Cauldron for their date. Despite the fact that it’s been a few years since the war and life has gone back to normal, Harry can’t really go anywhere in the Wizarding World without being approached. And usually he doesn’t mind, but he’s awkward enough around Y/N as it is, he doesn’t need to throw a half a dozen strangers asking him questions into the mix.
Once they reach the restaurant they’re seated at a table quickly, and it’s only once the hostess has left them alone that Harry realizes he’s going to have to spend the next few hours making conversation.
Sensing Harry’s sudden nervousness, Y/N makes the first move and starts a light conversation about the menu and what kind of food she likes to eat. Her soft voice puts Harry at ease, and he manages to follow in her lead, his words only getting caught in his throat a handful of times.
Harry manages to make it through dinner semi-successfully. He flounders his words a few times, and he somehow accidentally ends up insinuating that Ginny is his girlfriend, “No not my girlfriend, my friend who also happens to be a girl. A female,” he had stuttered out when Y/N’s jaw dropped open.” But luckily Y/N was patient with him, and she laughed it off.
As they head back towards the Leaky Cauldron, their pinky fingers linked, Harry feels like he’s on Cloud 9. While Harry had suffered some embarrassing moments, Y/N never seemed to mind. As their dinner went on he felt more and more at ease, like he had been talking with Ron or Hermione.
When they reach the Leaky Cauldron, Y/N turns to face Harry, and he can feel his nerves from earlier return.
Y/N leans forward and presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek, causing both of them to blush. “I had a really great time tonight, Harry. We should definitely do it again.”
“I did too. And I would really like that,” he forces out once his heart rate returns back to normal. His cheek burns where Y/N’s lips had touched, and he has to stop himself from reaching up to touch it.
“Great,” she breathes, her eyes twinkling. “Bye.”
Harry means to tell her to let him know that she gets home safe, but the words get caught in his throat. “Let me know when you’re safe. With an owl. Oh, for Godric’s sake,” he mutters, placing his head in his hands. He takes a deep breath before he looks back to Y/N, a soft smile on her face. “Owl me when you get home, so I know you’re safe. That’s what I meant to say.”
Y/N laughs lightly, and she presses another quick kiss to his cheek. “Yeah of course Harry. Have a good night.”
Harry stands there in disbelief as Y/N walks away, his hand finally coming up to lightly touch his face where he can still feel the imprint of her lips. “Brilliant.”
You never cease to amaze me.
After their first date, Y/N and Harry see each other often, much to Harry’s delight and surprise. He wasn’t usually very lucky with his romantic endeavors, mostly due to his less than wonderful way with words and his just general awkwardness. The closest thing he had to a girlfriend was Cho Chang in 5th year, but he had accidentally led Cho to believe that he was in love with Hermione on their one, and only, date.
But thankfully for Harry, Y/N doesn’t seem to care that he isn’t the best at conversing. Whenever he says the wrong thing or his words come out in jumbles she’s patient with him, allowing him to figure out the right way to say it. Although now that they’ve been going out for a few weeks, sometimes when Harry starts to get embarrassed Y/N just kisses him instead, and Harry has no problem with that. He’s a much better kisser than he is a conversationalist, which makes both Y/N and him infinitely happy.
Even though Harry and Y/N have seen each other nearly every day since their first date three weeks ago they haven’t made anything official. Harry cares for Y/N deeply, and his feelings for her grow every day, but this is important to him and he wants to be able to find the right words to say so he can get them out confidently.
Harry pushes the door to Y/N’s flat open after waiting a few moments for her to respond to his knock. It feels weird for him to walk in without being invited in, but she had told him a specific time to be over tonight, so it won’t be a surprise if she suddenly finds him in her flat. As he steps through the door he can hear noises coming from Y/N’s kitchen, and the air smells of tomato and basil.
He can hear Y/N quietly singing to herself and he creeps towards the kitchen, wanting to hear her better. He peaks in from around the corner, an instant smile appearing on his face. Instead of seeing a knife chop by itself as ingredients fly through the air like Harry had expected, he’s surprised to see that Y/N is cooking the muggle way.
Having been raised by muggles, Harry still felt weird using magic to do some things, and he has already cooked the muggle way for Y/N a few different times. Each time she had sat on the counter, watching him with amazement. Harry had even accidentally overcooked the chicken when a lesson in chopping an onion turned into a heated make out session.
Harry stands in the doorway to Y/N’s kitchen, smiling at her back like an idiot. She’s quietly singing along to the Weird Sisters song that’s coming from the record player in her living room as she stirs something in a pot on the stove. She looks absolutely gorgeous, and Harry has to swallow hard to keep the word vomit he can feel building in his throat down. He wants to say everything he’s been feeling since their first conversation in Flourish and Blotts, whether it comes out the way he wants it to or not.
“You never cease to amaze me,” he says suddenly, causing Y/N to shout and clutch her chest.
She spins around to face Harry, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Merlin you scared me! How long were you standing there?” she asks, coming up to wrap her arms around Harry’s neck.
Harry’s arms immediately wrap around her waist and he pulls their bodies together as he presses a chaste kiss to her lips. “Just a few minutes. You seemed like you were pretty into it, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Y/N laughs, and kisses Harry again briefly. “So, I amaze you, huh?”
Harry nods, releasing Y/N so she can go back to cooking. “Of course you do. You’re smart and beautiful. You have an amazing sense of humor and you have the amazing ability to look past my chronic foot in mouth syndrome,” he says with a chuckle, causing Y/N to laugh as well.
Don’t get up, I’ll do it.
Harry and Y/N quickly fall into a routine in their relationship. They go out on dates three times during the work week. They alternate between doing things in the wizard world and the muggle world. Y/N is fascinated by muggle things and Harry loves watching her eyes light up as he introduces her to the world he grew up in.
Saturdays are always reserved for quiet nights in at one of their flats. Sometimes they order in, or they cook a meal the muggle way together, but no matter how their evening starts it always ends the same way, too much wine and cuddles on the couch while some random movie plays in the background.
This particular Saturday they’re at Harry’s flat. He’s sitting on the couch, Y/N’s head in his lap as they watch some movie Harry can’t be bothered to remember the name of.  It’s one of the first cold nights of the year and Y/N is cuddled under a blanket Mrs. Weasley had knit for Harry while a fire burns in the fireplace. Harry isn’t paying too much attention to the movie, he’s too busy watching the flames dance on Y/N’s face as he strokes her hair.
Harry has just tangled his fingers in Y/N’s hair when she shivers, causing Harry’s soft smile to turn into a frown. “Are you cold? I could get you another blanket.”
Y/N shakes her head and brings a hand up to squeeze Harry’s knee. “No. Just, content.”
Harry chuckles. “So, you’re shivering, because you’re content? I have to say love that’s one of the weirdest things I’ve heard, and I’ve said some pretty weird stuff.”
They both laugh at that. In the few months its’ been since Y/N and Harry met he’s been getting more comfortable around her, and his word fumbles have occurred less and less often. The only time he seems to be speechless or say something weird is in the bedroom because when Y/N has her hands on him his brain turns to absolute mush. He still has a hard time expressing just how he feels but considering the fact that she’s still around Harry thinks she knows just how much he cares for her.
They sit there in a comfortable silence, Y/N still watching the movie and Harry watching her. When she starts to get up, Harry presses her hip down into the couch, forcing her to stay there. “What do you need? A drink? A snack? Don’t get up, I’ll get it.”
Y/N giggles and wiggles in Harry’s grip, trying to get him to let go. “Harry, love that’s very sweet of you but I need to go to the loo. So, unless you’ve figured out a way to do that for me you’re gonna have to let me up.”
Harry immediately let’s go, a pink blush forming on his cheeks. “I-I-I,” he stutters out as she gets up. She presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek and the last coherent thought he had in his head flies out the window.
“I appreciate the sentiment though, love,” she says with a chuckle before disappearing deeper into Harry’s flat.
“I am a bloody idiot,” he mutters to himself, unable to contain his smile.
I love you.
Harry and Y/N have been together for 8 months when Harry starts to feel pressure. He’s in love with her, and he has been for quite a while. He falls deeper and deeper every day, but he still hasn’t managed to say it. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to say it, every time he sees her he wants to shout it at the top of his lungs. And he’s tried to say it, many times, but each time he couldn’t manage to get the words out and he ended up saying something else instead.
“You seem to be deep in thought over there. What’s on your mind?” Y/N’s voice brings Harry out of his head and back into the present. Her tone is light, but he can hear the concern in her voice. They’re sitting outside of Florean’s, having some ice cream after a heated round of minigolf. Despite the fact that it was her first time playing, Y/N managed to beat Harry by quite a lot, and they had laughed about it the whole way there.
Harry reaches out to grab her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Just thinking about you,” he answers honestly. She’s all he ever seems to be able to think about, no matter the time or place Y/N is always on his mind. Harry smiles when she blushes, his thumb starting to rub circles on the back of her hand.
“Thinking about how I just smoked you in minigolf?” she asks with a laugh.
No matter how many times Harry has heard her laugh it never fails to give him butterflies.
“A little bit, yes,” he chuckles. “But I’m also thinking about how beautiful you are. And how much I love your laugh. And how happy you make me.”
Y/N leans forward and kisses Harry. Her mouth is cold from the ice cream and it sends a shiver down his spine. “I love you,” she whispers a moment later when she pulls away. “And it’s okay if you can’t say it yet, love. Because I know you love me too.”
“You do?” Harry asks in disbelief.
Y/N nods and kisses him again. “You say it all the time without actually really saying it. Like when you come see me at work on your lunch break just because you miss me. Or when you make sure I get home safe. And when you just stand there and stare at me with so much adoration it makes me feel like I’m going to explode. You may not always be able to tell people how you feel, but you’re amazing at showing it.”
Harry lunges forward and kisses Y/N, their ice cream forgotten on the table and melting everywhere. But he can’t really find it in him to care. He loves the woman in front of him so much he’d let the world melt around them before he dared to even look away from her. Very few people really understand Harry and how he communicates, so the fact that Y/N does it so effortlessly makes him want to drop on one knee and promise to give her the world.
But as he pulls away from her mouth he resists that urge. Partially because he doesn’t have a ring, and he wants to give Y/N the biggest diamond he can find. But mostly because there are other things he should say to her before asking for her hand in marriage.
“I love you,” he breathes. Their foreheads are pressed together, and it feels like they’re the only people in the world.  I know may not always say the right thing, or anything really. So even if I don’t quite say it, know that I feel it. I will always show you that I love you, even if I can’t find the right words to tell you.”
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journalxxx · 3 years
Text
By Hook or by Crook (6)
Hey kid. I’d like to have a chat with you, if you’re up to it. Would you be free this afternoon?
Izuku idly reread the text and the brief exchange that followed as he whiled away the few minutes left before the agreed time for the meeting. 
Just a little over twenty-four hours before, Izuku had had a minor stroke at the mere thought of All Might texting him about a trip to the police station. Just a little over twenty-four hours before, he would have soared straight to cloud nine at the thought of All Might texting him ‘to have a chat’. It was a pity that the only emotion he could muster at the moment was a vague sense of stunned apathy.
“I’ll get that.” He informed no one in particular when the bell rang. The man installing what probably were legalized viruses on his laptop gave him an odd look, and his mother replied something indistinguishable from the bathroom. Izuku shuffled out of his room and unlocked the front door.
“Young Midoriya. Good afternoon.” All Might had reverted to his laid-back cargo pants and t-shirt attire. He seemed more tired and subdued as well, more like on the day Izuku had met him. 
“Good afternoon.” Izuku gestured at him to come inside, which he did with a quiet thanks. He did not remove his shoes though, and he stopped only few steps in upon spotting the second man fiddling with the landline in the living room.
“Ah. Busy day, is it?” All Might acknowledged the technician with a knowing nod. He then turned towards Izuku and tilted his head towards the front door. “Say, how about we take a walk? I bet your house feels crowded enough without me imposing as well.”
His mother’s head peeked into the hallway. All Might greeted her with a little wave and a weirdly embarrassed grin.
“I’m going for a walk.” Izuku announced as he slipped his shoes on.
“Uhm, are you sure?” Her eyes shifted between All Might and him with ill-concealed unease.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Izuku cut short. He wasn’t in the mood for another discussion. “See you later.”
He strode out of the building without hesitation. He made his way down the stairs, through the parking lot, all the way to the sidewalk before stopping. All Might caught up with him a minute later, after lingering on the threshold to exchange a few words with his mother that Izuku decided he did not care about. He also decided to ignore the pointed stare the hero aimed at him when he finally reached him.
“Anywhere you’d like to go in particular?” All Might asked after a beat, gazing up and down the small road.
“Not really. You?”
“Any place is fine by me. I need to get reacquainted with this city, its layout is quite different from how I remember it.”
Right, All Might had just moved in. And Musutafu had likely changed a lot since his U.A. days… That would have been a tremendously interesting topic for a chat, Izuku could feel the questions popping up in his head in droves, despite everything. Unfortunately, he was under no illusion that what All Might wanted from him could be that kind of casual conversation.
They picked a random direction and started walking. For almost five minutes, they strolled without breathing a word. It wasn’t nearly as awkward as it would have been under any normal circumstances.
“Had another rough night?” All Might said eventually.
“Mh.” Easy guess. The bags under Izuku’s eyes would soon rival the fixed shadows circling the hero’s if he didn’t manage to rein in his sleeping schedule soon. The nightmares had ceased, thankfully, but his head had been so full of disjointed and clashing thoughts and memories that he hadn’t managed to catch some shut eye until so late that it had become early. 
Nothing made sense. Everything made too much sense. In hindsight, it felt strange that Izuku had never contemplated the possibility himself. It also felt absurd that it could be true though, instead of some sort of huge misunderstanding. That his father could be-
“Oh, before I forget. The villain is faring much better.”
“Uh? What?” Izuku blinked.
“The sludge villain whose quirk you returned.” All Might graced him with a gentle smile. “I heard he was already mostly coherent by last night, and as of few hours ago he was firmly denying ever bearing any ‘serious’ ill intent towards you and your friend, demanding to see his lawyer and complaining about the quality of the lunch he was served.”
Guilt needled Izuku’s stomach upon realizing that the villain’s plight had completely escaped his mind since his return home from the police station. How poorly committed his sympathy was. “Oh. That’s… good, I guess?”
“We guess.” All Might chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve dealt with another incident that badly in years, but I’m glad that no one suffered any permanent damage, at least. And thank you again for bringing the matter to a close in my stead.”
“It’s hardly your fault if things went the way they did. But… yeah, I’m glad he’s okay and that it’s over.” Now if only that hadn’t sparked a much worse and much more scarring mishap, at least for Izuku… “Are you all right, by the way?”
“Me?” 
“Yeah. Have you managed to see a doctor yet? About, uh…” Izuku pointed at his own mouth, unsure how to describe the attack the man had suffered the day before, the likes of which Izuku had only seen in movies and cartoons, usually from people sporting deadly and gory upper body wounds. 
All Might laughed with inexplicable, genuine mirth. “Oh, don’t worry! I wasn’t playing it cool when I said I was fine. It’s just a thing that happens. Usually it isn’t quite as, uh, dramatic, but it really is nothing concerning.”
“But… you hadn’t even used your quirk…” Izuku could not fathom how spraying blood like a fountain on a presumably regular basis couldn’t warrant seeking any kind of medical attention, but the hero waved off his objection with finality.
“Trust me, it’s fine. More importantly...“ All Might wasn’t looking at him. He seemed deeply focused in memorizing as much as he could of his surroundings, peering here and there at street nameplates, buildings, alleys… manholes too, amusingly. But the low and soft quality of his tone made it clear that he wasn’t asking just out of politeness. “What about you, kid? How are you?”
Izuku dropped his gaze to his feet and shrugged. It was an accurate answer, actually. He’d spent so many hours torturing himself with doubts and grief and confusion that at some point his brain had sort of… ran out of energy to spare for emotions. He supposed it wasn’t the worst response he could have had. Stolid empty-headedness was largely preferable to the scorching waves of betrayal, impending doom and overbearing dismay he’d sampled the day before.
“I imagine how difficult all this must be for you.“ All Might went on, just as tactfully. “Have you talked with your mother?”
Oh, scratch that. He was still capable of feeling something. His mother was enough of a sore topic to make him clench his fists. “...Yeah. I have.”
“...I don’t think-”
“She knew.” Yeah, he was still angry. It bubbled in his chest like boiling tar, thick and sticky and suffocating.
“She told you that?” 
“I heard you three talking about it last night. I was listening from outside the living room.”
“What?!” All Might seemed genuinely shocked. It hadn’t been Izuku’s proudest moment, admittedly, but let’s be honest, what else was he supposed to do? Pretend that they weren’t discussing life-changing revelations just few meters away from his bed? He was only human. All Might slapped a large hand on his face and dragged it down alongside his pointy features with a groan. “Oh, come on…”
“She knew, and she never told me.” His nails were digging painfully in his palms and- oh great, now he was getting teary again. He’d held it together for the whole day and now he was going to lose it five minutes after All Might had showed up. For the third or fourth time in as many days. Sure, why not? It wasn’t like he’d managed to retain any sort of dignity since the very moment he’d met his idol. Why bother now? “S-She’s known since- since before marrying him- however that happened… I j-just...”
All Might regarded him silently for a moment. “...Things like these look very different from an outside perspective. Especially to someone as young as you are. It’s very easy to judge, and even easier to misjudge.”
“But she knew he was a criminal - one who would not even consider changing his ways for his family - and she… wanted him around anyway? Why would she do that?! It’s- I wouldn’t want an unrepentant villain still involved in illegal business around my son! He’d be... a bad influence, at the very least!”
“Before yesterday, have you ever thought that he could be having a bad influence on you?”
“Uh? No, I… I didn’t know that he was… I never… questioned...”
All Might sighed deeply. “Your father is a notoriously charismatic man. He’s always been particularly adept at coaxing people to his side without open coercion, but with simple, well-aimed words. You never suspected that he may have been acting in his own best interest while offering or withholding certain information from you, although it may seem obvious in hindsight. I bet he managed to instil the same trust in your mother, despite what she knew about him.”
“I…” Izuku rubbed away the tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He couldn’t understand. He just couldn’t. And it tore at him. “W-Was it because of the money? She never... I-I thought we were good, she n-never said anything… I-If I’d known, I would have… I wouldn’t have asked for… s-so many things, I-”
“I highly doubt that a few toys and games could have had that big of an impact on the family budget. There’s no reason for you to beat yourself up over anything.” All Might slipped his hands in his pockets, sympathy plain in his sunken eyes. “Your mother found herself in a very tricky situation, through no real fault of her own. She navigated it as best as she could, and I’m sure your well-being was her top priority. Seeing the healthy and upright young man you’ve grown into, I’d say she handled it admirably.”
“...I know.” Izuku knew it, really, he understood that. But… he’d always seen his mother as just about the most transparent, honest, sensible and sensitive person on Earth. And it turned out she didn't… exactly… meet that standard, however idealistic. It had been a blow, on top of everything else, one that had left him without a real, fully trustworthy figure when he most needed it. “I know that, but… she should have told me. At some point. There’s no excuse for not doing that.” 
“Perhaps. It’s hard to predict the negative impact that such a confession may have on a younger child, but perhaps she should have.” The hero conceded. “I’d refrain from handing down verdicts though. You kept some secrets of your own from her. You hid your quirk-”
“But that’s not the same thing! Not even close! A quirk isn’t as big an omission as your father being a criminal!” Izuku snapped, then immediately hunched his back in regret, his tone losing some volume but not its bitterness. “And, you know, maybe, maybe I wouldn’t have listened to him so readily if someone had warned me that he isn’t exactly an upstanding citizen!”
“Look, it isn’t my place to comment on how things stand or should stand between you and your mother, or how you should behave, but… if there’s one thing you need to keep in mind - and please do keep it in mind, at all times - is that the one person who bears absolute and doubtless blame is your father. That’s the source of all the lies that have been fed to you. Lies and deception are… what he does, really. What he’s always done. You and your mother are both victims in all this.”
Izuku sniffed and wiped some tears and snot on his sleeve. It was gross, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. There was a logic to All Might’s words, but no logic justified the staggering duplicity that had just turned his life upside down. The unfairness of it all was simply too much to accept. 
The boy looked up when All Might poked him on the shoulder to catch his attention.
“Speaking of which…” All Might swerved to the left, entering a smaller and more secluded lane leading away from the more trafficked routes. He had resumed his perusal of the area, and his expression had regained a firm, almost steely edge. Izuku followed him. “What I wanted to talk to you about concerns what transpired about your father, and how it will affect your life going forwards.”
No surprise there. The two plain-clothes agents that had shown up that morning, no doubt mourning the loss of their well-deserved Sunday rest, had been clear enough of a warning of some upheaval to the Midoriyas’ routine. All Might’s vague text had only cemented Izuku’s expectations of further disruptions.
“I hate being the bearer of bad news, but it is imperative for you to understand the gravity of your father’s position… especially to prevent him from enacting any sort of manipulation or control on you in the future.” The hero began. “The man you know as ‘Hisashi Midoriya’ goes under many aliases, so much so that we are still unaware of his real name. He has committed an astounding variety of serious crimes, over the course of decades. Even if your mother claims to be aware of his background, I assure you she doesn’t know the half of it.”
Izuku physically curled up under the weight of those words. It was… even worse than they thought? His father sounded more and more like some obscenely powerful yakuza boss or something, which was just… just...
“The police will be gathering and analyzing as much evidence as possible to find clues leading to his current location and activities. All possible forms of communications between you and him will be monitored. Your phones will be bugged, and any electronic devices you own will be fitted with tracking software. Your mail will be examined before delivery.” All Might paused, assessing Izuku’s lack of a reaction to his speech. “Did they tell you about this already?”
“S-Some of it, yeah.” Izuku’s gaze dropped to the asphalt again. The dried tears made the skin on his cheeks and around his eyes itch. “Will there be cameras too? Inside the house?”
“I haven’t heard about cameras. I don’t think so. Seeing as your father never set foot in your house, there doesn’t seem to be any reason to surveil it that closely from the inside. The outside will be watched, so we’d notice anyway if he tried to approach it.”
“...Okay.” 
“...I know it’s an oppressive situation. No one likes having their privacy invaded. But know that the professionals in charge of monitoring you are utterly uninterested in you specifically, or in whatever you do with your free time, as long as it isn’t anything outrageously illegal.” All Might’s voice softened again, although not enough for Izuku to dare raise his eyes from the ground. “I hear they are especially unconcerned about peculiar web searches and piracy perpetrated by bored adolescents, and some such things. Anything that isn’t strictly related to the case at hand won’t ever make it into any reports.”
“Mh.” A couple of small mercies were better than none, Izuku guessed. He really couldn’t muster neither enthusiasm nor gratitude for them at the moment though.
“Ah, about this… Those monthly phone calls your mother mentioned are particularly relevant for the police. They are likely their best bet in pinpointing your father’s position.” All Might paused. “For that reason, we would appreciate your cooperation on that front.”
Izuku’s brain suddenly jolted into activity, a myriad of spy movies and comics coming to his mind and offering plenty of distressing scenarios he could be potentially thrusted into. “You mean like… you want me to help you find him? Get him to drop hints about where he is, or- or asking him to go somewhere where you can set up a trap, or-” Izuku looked back up at the man, without bothering to conceal the pure terror that such prospects filled him with.
“What? No, of course not!” All Might exclaimed, surprised. “I mean, it isn’t out of discussion that we may try to actively lure him out at some point, but that would take extensive preparations and precautions on our part. We’d need to gather more intel and agents, recruit other heroes first… We definitely aren’t considering taking any such steps yet.”
“O-Oh… okay…” He let out the tiniest sigh of relief. No wild capers… for now...
“Besides, even if we were, we wouldn’t use a child as bait! Your mother would be much more suited to assist us. Any request from her would have more sway on your father, and she would handle the pressure much better.”
“So… what do you want me to do then?”
All Might shrugged. “Just keep up appearances. Continue having your monthly calls with him as if nothing happened, so as not to alert him that something might be wrong.”
That wasn’t that big of a demand, objectively speaking, but... it didn’t seem feasible either. Izuku’s grasp on his own emotions was tenuous at best at the moment, and his father had always been exceptionally perceptive to his state. He really didn’t think he could endure up to two hours of small talk about heroes, quirks, school and assorted pleasantries without having some sort of breakdown halfway through. Izuku gulped, bracing himself for the inevitable scolding of his cowardice. 
“...I-I’m sorry, I’m not sure if I can do that.”
Surprisingly, All Might wasn’t put off in the slightest. “In that case, you could ask your mother to pretend you got hurt in some way that prevents you from speaking. Bad tooth, removed tonsils, broken jaw, you name it. That would earn you at least another month of silence and… hopefully the investigation will make some progress in that time, or you’ll grow used enough to the situation to face him with a cool head.”
That was a reasonable approach to the issue. It was a relief to know that someone else was putting some thinking into all this in Izuku’s place, now that his already flimsy decisional autonomy had stumbled into the metaphorical equivalent of a bear trap. “...I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.” All Might nodded, strangely unperturbed by Izuku's less than proactive attitude. “Other than what I’ve mentioned, you will also be followed wherever you go whenever you aren’t at home or at school-”
“W-What?” Izuku instinctively glanced around, envisioning slow-moving cars or shady individuals with sunglasses and holed newspapers observing him from bushes.
The corners of All Might’s mouth twitched upwards. “You will not be aware of it, nor will anyone else, of course. It will have no actual impact on your daily life, like all the other measures we’ve already covered.”
“But why?” Izuku griped, his heart sinking so deep that it would soon pierce through the Earth’s mantle. “My father isn’t going to suddenly drop by to say hello, you just said so yourself!”
“It’s for your own protection too.” All traces of humor vanished instantly from the hero’s demeanor. “Your father is no stranger to violence. In the past, he has resorted to brutal and immoral means to dispose of his enemies, and... I’m sorry to say that he would not hesitate to employ such methods against his own family, if he deemed it a danger to his own safety.”
Izuku couldn’t hold back a little hysterical chuckle that sounded pitiful to his own ears. “That… sounds a bit exaggerated, doesn’t it? I-I get that he’s a bad guy, but… I really don’t think he’d do something like that to us. H-He’s never even raised his voice with me, never...”
“Midoriya. I beg you to believe me when I say that you can’t trust anything of what you think you know about your father.” All Might stopped to glare intently at a narrow, dingy alley littered with trash bags. “He is dangerous. Extraordinarily so. Tsukauchi is pushing for having further safety measures enforced for your family, and until those have been granted, please be very aware of your surroundings at all times. Refrain from taking unfamiliar routes, and stick to crowded areas whenever you can. I don’t want to scare you, but even having eyes on you at all times is no guarantee of a timely intervention, under unfavorable circumstances.”
“Is it… really that bad?” Izuku breathed, gutted by the unexpected harshness of the picture painted by All Might’s words. It was… inconceivable, still. His father, deliberately hurting him? His father, whose cutting sarcasm was just about the only vaguely hurtful trait Izuku had ever witnessed? His father, a hardened, soulless criminal averse to puns and All Might trivia, and yet always so willing to let Izuku torture him with both? His father, ambushing him from dark corners? “Is he really that bad?”
“Yes.”
“What did he…” Izuku started asking, only to trail off. It was a pointless question, with a clear answer. It had been buzzing in his head for the whole night, blindingly obvious by now. “...He steals quirks, doesn't he? That’s what he does. He... maims people for…”
“I’m afraid he isn’t nearly as conscientious as you in regards to-” All Might cut himself off with a visible flinch. “Wait, he told you about his quirk? You know it’s the same as yours?”
“Y-Yes.”
“You didn’t mention that to us.” Bright pinpricks of blue were suddenly trained on Izuku with piercing intensity. It kept catching him off guard, how both of the Symbol of Peace’s towering forms could switch from amicable to intimidating at the drop of a dime.
“I-I thought… He said it was a secret- one of his confidential matters. I’ve always thought he was some sort of… prison guard or undercover agent…” God, how unbelievably stupid it all sounded now. Izuku had never felt more childish. 
“...That goes to show…” All Might mumbled, barely audibly. It unsettled Izuku. It went to show what? His father’s cunning? Izuku’s naivety? Or… surely not that he could be hiding something on purpose...
“I-I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I had no idea how- how serious- I’d never-”
“Mh?” The hero blinked at him, as if emerging from a private musing. “Ah, I mean… There could be some merit to the other thing I wanted to ask of you.”
Izuku just waited, barely able to withstand the acuity of the hero’s gaze without shrinking. After a few tense moments, All Might let out a sigh and resumed walking, his eyes wandering back to the street ahead.
“To be frank… Personally, I don’t think we’re going to achieve much from all these investigations.” He grimaced, as if regretting those words as soon as they left his mouth. “Not for lack of trying, mind you. Tsukauchi is an immensely capable and dedicated officer, he’ll pursue each lead as thoroughly as humanly possible, but… Your father knows how to cover his tracks. Phone calls, payments, mail, blatant cues like those have never brought us close to him in the past, not once. To his associates, yes, to his… ‘aftermaths’, yes. But never to him personally. His circumstances were always shrouded in impenetrable security. I doubt this case will be any different.”
Buildings gave way to the open horizon. They had reached the end of the street, which merged into a largest road running along the coast. They crossed it, and kept going on the opposite sidewalk, looking down on a thin stretch of sand separating them from the sea.
“That said… he did leave one huge trail for us to find this time. A whole family, out in the open.” All Might’s eyes returned to the boy pensively. “A breakthrough like this, if you’ll pass me the term, is unprecedented. The most obvious leads could turn out to be dead ends, but maybe there is something to be found in the smaller things.”
“The smaller things?”
The man gestured vaguely. “He’s been talking to you, has he not? To you and your mother both, for over a decade. Not that often, but… hell, he even told you about his quirk, and one would expect him to be very tight-lipped about that. There might be more to dig up. Details he may have deemed unimportant, or accidentally let slip. Hints. Small things.”
Izuku was finally catching the drift. “I’m really sorry, but… I know you probably can’t take my word for it, but I really don’t know anything about what he does, or ever did. He never let anything slip about his… his ‘job’...”
“Of course not, that’s not what I’m referring to. The thing is…” The hero clucked his tongue in frustration. “We know so little about the man himself as well. His identity, his background, his history… We know next to nothing about him, and what little we do know, we were only able to discover through very unconventional means. If there’s a chance to glean one more shred of information hidden among the fabrications, I think it’s worth pursuing it.”
“So the police are going to question us about… fourteen years’ worth of chit-chats?” That seemed like a disproportionate endeavor for something as volatile as the possibility of parsing an ounce of truth. Exactly how desperate were they to catch this increasingly perplexing father of his?
“That’s the gist of it, yes. And ideally, we would like to interview you separately, to avoid that either of you could, ehr… inadvertently censor yourselves about information not known by the other-”
“Like my quirk. Or dad’s ‘activities’.“ Izuku muttered.
“...Yes. Things like those.” All Might paused, then cleared his throat. “Well… given the delicate nature of the case, we are trying to keep the workforce to a minimum, and involve as few people as possible. This ought to speed up coordination and briefing, as well reduce the risk of information leaks. Tsukauchi will be personally questioning your mother… as well as direct the entire operation. He’s quite the multitasker. And, well… since technically I’m already involved and up to speed and I won’t be contributing to the proper detective work in any capacity… we thought I might take care of hearing your side of the story.”
A little Oh was the whole extent of Izuku’s reaction as the hero’s words washed over him. All Might seemed a little discouraged by that.
“We figured it might put you a little more at ease… Talking with someone you’re already familiar with, instead of a brand new face. And, ehr… well, you mentioned being a fan, so…” He elaborated, his hands drawing half-formed shapes in the air to underline his words. He looked… almost nervous? “It’s just a possibility, of course. If you’d rather be entrusted to a proper member of the force, it’s well within your rights to request that.”
Izuku did not miss the underlying meaning of that winding speech. It was within his rights to request who he wanted to be interviewed by, not if. 
“Do I even have a choice?” All Might’s guilty grimace was all the reply Izuku needed. “...No, sorry, I… That’s a stupid question. I’ve no reason to refuse either.” Surely not the faint sense of betrayal knocking on his conscience at that very moment. Could he even feel bad about betraying someone who’d never been honest with him in the first place? 
“...I know it’s far from an enticing perspective.” All Might rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “It’s going to eat up a lot of your time, and people are never exactly eager to ‘snitch’ on relatives, even when they’re criminals. But I really think it could be of great help to us.”
So that was the role Izuku was going to have in this whole mess, that of a very oddly-shaped piece in a very complicated puzzle. It could be worse, he supposed. Being stuck in a room talking with the number one hero for hours could hardly be considered a real punishment. Were the topic of the conversation literally anything else, it’d be a dream coming true, even. He should push that angle on himself, Izuku pondered. Maybe he could talk himself into enjoying the whole thing, in some way. 
“Since I’m no policeman, I’m amenable to reward you for the time and effort you’ll generously dedicate to the task with suitable bribing. I was thinking snacks, if that doesn’t come off as too cheap.” All Might continued with a tentative grin, although his attempt at levity didn’t stick the landing. “No? How about, ehr… All Might merch?” For some reason, his face scrunched up as if the suggestion physically pained him.
Izuku sighed. There was no point in fighting the inevitable, was there? “It’s fine. I’ll do it.”
“...Thank you, that is very good to hear.” All Might smiled with evident relief. He patted Izuku’s shoulder encouragingly. “I’ll say, you’re taking all this a lot better than I was expecting. For all the crying, you have quite the resilient attitude. Heroic, even!”
Izuku let out a half-choked sob. Oh. Oh, wow, that realization hurt. He hadn’t thought about that since… had it really only been a couple of days since making it into U.A. had been his biggest concern in life? And now…
“Ehr… Sorry, did I say something wrong?” All Might asked when faced with the new bout of tears streaming down the boy’s cheeks. Izuku shook his head.
“S-Sorry, it’s just… I-I guess that’s the closest I’ll ever get to becoming a hero now, uh?”
“What?”
“There’s no way they’ll let me anywhere near a hero course now, is there? My father told me it was basically impossible before, and now...”
“Your father told you that you couldn’t be a hero? Your father who is a villain?” All Might gave him a pointed look. “You may want to start reevaluating some of the nuggets of wisdom he’s been imparting on you in light of the new revelations, kid.”
“But he’s right, isn’t he?” Izuku griped. “It’s even worse now that he turned out to be a villain! A bad one too! Abusing the same overpowered quirk I have, it’s just… too great a bias, isn’t it?”
All Might seemed caught off guard, then he frowned and looked away without replying. There it was, the naked truth. Not even an attempt at a rebuttal. Out of discussion. Izuku’s dreams scattered to the wind, without hope of salvation.
“Y-You know, I actually thought… I could work my way around it.” Izuku continued among the sniffles, dropping his gaze to the ground. “I thought I could just pretend to be quirkless. F-For a while. Pass the test like that, make some friends, get… get trusted as a hero because of my work. A-and then, then one day, just… after everyone trusted me, I thought I could come out clean. And start using my quirk for good. I thought it could work. Get others to know me before my quirk. B-But it’s never going to happen now. The police know, the school will know.”
“...I must say that building your budding hero career on a lie isn’t the most solid plan I’ve ever heard.” There was no accusation in All Might’s tone, but his words still cut deep.
“I know…” Izuku bit his lip. He’d known, but what alternatives did he have?
“But I guess we can’t all carelessly parade our true selves before public scrutiny, can we?” The man sighed, scratching his own head. “You are right about one thing though. Actions do speak louder than words. You might not be able to talk your way out of your… delicate circumstances, but factual demonstrations of good intentions can go a long way.”
“That’s… That’s all I’m asking for!” Izuku’s head snapped up, desperately latching onto that single lifeline. “I would do whatever it takes to be allowed to try!”
“Well, I’d say you’re already on the right path then. Cooperating with the police is definitely a good step to establish good faith.” All Might flashed him a sheepish smile. ”...I’m not saying that just to grind my own axe, I swear.”
“Do you think it would be enough for U.A. to let me attempt the test?”
“You want to apply to U.A?” The hero seemed strangely surprised.
“Yeah. Is it… not a good idea?”
All Might took a few moments to reply. “...It might work in your favor, actually. U.A. is famous for the degree of self-determination afforded to its management by the government. If you’re worried about external interference, U.A. is your best bet to avoid it.”
A tiny, shy flicker of hope ignited in Izuku’s chest.  
“...I’ve known the principal of U.A High School for a long time. He’s a bit of an eccentric, but one with an impeccable work ethic.” All Might resumed after a moment. “He’s not the kind of person to let unfair judgement undermine his institute. Especially if it prevented an aspiring hero he deems worthy from being appointed his student.”
“You mean that…?”
“I mean that if you do plan to apply to U.A. you could have a chance of making it in, regardless of your unfavorable background. If you pass the admission test, that is.” All Might suddenly stopped walking. “...What is this?”
Izuku blinked, ripped out of his thoughts, and took in the portion of the seafront they had reached. Wow, he really hadn’t been paying any attention to where they were going, had he? “...Oh. It’s, ehr… an illegal dumping site, I guess.”
“Really?” All Might commented, eyeing the sad, disregarded No Dumping sign welcoming its disobedient visitors.
“Yeah. The currents always bring flotsam to this area, so it was never clean in the first place. And then people started taking advantage of it…”
“And no one ever comes here to pick up any of this?” Strangely, the sight and the slight stench of mounds of rusting metal and assorted junk didn’t bother All Might, who climbed down the few steps separating the sidewalk from the beach.
“No, the city administration never took an interest. Everyone else just avoids this spot altogether. It’s been getting worse over the years.” Izuku had no idea why All Might was studying the piles of dismissed appliances as if they might hold some hidden treasures within, but he felt rather dumb for accidentally introducing this to the hero, of all places in Musutafu, as his first sightseeing landmark. “Sorry, I should have brought us somewhere else.”
“It’s fine.” Undaunted, All Might wandered deeply into the maze of refuse, with Izuku ruefully tagging along. “A safe, handy spot where a passing criminal in a hurry could stash some loot, don’t you think? Good to know.”
“Oh. I didn’t think about that.” Right. That was what it meant for a hero to know his turf, right? It went beyond street names and layouts. It meant to be aware of how each location could lend itself to certain criminal activities, what places could make for good improvised hideouts, where civilians were more or less likely to be gathered...
“How were you planning on passing the admission test?” All Might asked when they reached the water’s edge, eyes fixed on the waves crashing on the sand.
“Uhm. Well, I’ve already started reviewing the subjects listed in the syllabus…”
“I was referring to the practical session, actually.”
“Oh, uhm… Well, I tried looking for information about it online, but there doesn’t seem to be any. Apparently it’s U.A.’s policy to bind all participants to non-disclosure. They say that observing how potential candidates react to unexpected situations is part of the evaluation process, so…”
All Might looked at Izuku, his expression blank. “Yes. So?”
“Ehr.” Suddenly Izuku felt extremely on the spot. “W-Well, without knowing what I’m getting into, I don’t really have any specific strategies in mind.”
All Might cocked his head with a slight frown. “What about generic strategies? What skills were you going to capitalize on?”
“I… Well… I thought I’d just… try my best. Improvise and use my head.”
All Might blinked. “...That is what everyone else is going to do too. Except everyone else will also have a quirk to rely on, while you weren’t going to use yours. That’s a massive disadvantage right there.”
“Yes, I know.” Izuku clasped his hand behind his back in shame. That was an excellent point, one that somehow no one had ever raised with him. Everyone, including his father, instantly shot down his idea as soon it left his mouth. No one had ever asked him to elaborate on the practical details. Which he had sort of… failed to sort out so far.
“And you have no notion as to how to bridge that gap.”
“Not… not yet.”
All Might crossed his arms, sporting possibly the harshest expression Izuku had seen on him yet. It made his stomach lurch unpleasantly. “...Are you serious about this hero thing? Are you sure it isn’t just a passing fancy?”
“It isn’t! It absolutely isn’t!” Izuku answered immediately. “I just… I don’t even know if I’m allowed to bring any tools, or-”
“Tools?” All Might scoffed as he walked back to him and gave him a critical once-over. “Looks to me you already have all the tools you need, if you deigned to consider them.”
“Uh?”
“You have arms, don’t you? Hands. Legs. Arguably a head.” All Might poked at each listed limb with a bony finger as he started circling him like a starved shark. “All in working order, yes?”
“Y-Yes- I mean, I’m not ill or anything, but-”
“Then why aren’t you trying to capitalize on those? A quirk is an important part of a person, but it’s not the only one! You have a body, use it!”
“Ah, yes, I…” Izuku gulped. “It would make sense to, uh, try to get a little stronger, I guess…”
“You guess? ” All Might was reaching yet unexplored levels of visible exasperation, which was saying something considering the whole secret-villainous-father debacle. Izuku didn’t know if getting the number one hero so worked up about his little pipe dream should be considered flattering or shameful. “Being a hero isn’t a desk job! Running fast, lifting heavy weights, enduring fatigue are not optional skills! No matter what quirk they have, no hero worth their salt can neglect to keep in excellent shape!”
“R-Right. Of course. It’s just that, uh…” Izuku fidgeted. “I’m not really good at that sort of… physical stuff. I’ve always been a bit on the scrawny side, and I get tired easily, and I’m no good at brawling-”
“Despite training?”
“...I’ve never followed a proper training regimen, but…”
All Might rubbed his hands on his face. “Kid, unless they have a physical-enhancing quirk, people aren’t just born strong. They get strong by training - do I really have this state this out loud?”
Izuku was fairly sure his face was about to spontaneously combust. Of all the things he’d expected to happen in his near future, being scolded by All Might in person for his lack of commitment to physical activity was not one of them. “Y-You are right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… to disrespect you or your profession…”
“You didn’t, I was just… You seemed passionate about this two days ago...” All Might trailed off. “My point is that all the equity in the world won’t net you a place in U.A. if you don’t pass that test. And if you really are serious about raising your chances of becoming a hero, you have to give this some serious thought, and soon. You can cram months of study into weeks if you have the brains for it, but you cannot do the same with workouts.”
Izuku willed himself to hold his head up straighter. “I-I will. Thank you for your advice, it makes a lot of sense.”
The silence that descended between them was more than a little awkward.
“I’ve pestered you enough for today, haven’t I?” All Might eventually said as he took off towards the sidewalk. “Let’s go back.”
Izuku trailed behind the hero as they made their way among the waste, and almost bumped on him when he slowed to a stop to stare at a particularly high pile of contorted, rusty scraps.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, I was just thinking that… What I need is a quiet, lonely place to have some private chats with you, and what you need is a way to work up some muscle and rack up some good karma, right?” All Might scratched his chin as he scanned the heaps of trash hiding the rest of the city from view. “...Say, how do you feel about community service?”
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mage-ellie · 3 years
Text
Akechi x Reader: Soulmate AU- Mirror Reflection Part 2
AN: I wasn't sure if I wanted to do a second part at first, but when I woke up today and reread my writing, I realized just how sad and angsty it was, so here's part two hfaskjfhdk. He deserves love ;; Fluff fluff fluff fluff fluffl fufflf ulfulfulfu ulffflf fulllfu flluff
Part 1: Click me!
Original post: Click me!
Prompt suggestion page: Click me!
As you entered Shujin, your egg shaped Principal came bouncing down the stairs, eyes searching the first floor for who knows what. Although, you quickly learned what he was looking for when his eyes landed on you. Without any hesitation, he trotted up to you with a bright smile on his face.
"Good morning L/N-san. As you know, the second years will be going on a field trip to a TV station today. Sadly, one of the second year homeroom teachers fell ill and won't be making it today, so we're short one chaperone. Would you perhaps be interested in attending in her place?" He asked you, not bothering to hide how desperate he was for your answer. His eyes were twitching and his smile looked visibly strained. 
"Oh. Uh. Sure." You said, confused on why he asked you and not the student council president. 
"Fantastic! Please, head to room 2-D where you'll meet up with Kawakami-san. Thank you." He chirped, then turned and wobbled away. You just stared at him as the information just given to you sunk into your mind. You wouldn't be complaining though. You were pretty sure that your math teacher had a pop quiz planned for today, so you were happy to skip it. 
Once the bell rang you headed towards the classroom you were told to go to, and joined the second year students on their field trip.
As you walked through the halls of the TV station along with Ms. Kawakami, your stomach was doing summersaults. You couldn't figure out exactly what was making you so nervous, but something about the excited buzz in the air was making butterflies flutter in your stomach. You thought that it might just be because you forgot to eat breakfast this morning, or because you had to deal with a bunch of rambunctious teenagers.
Finally, you were able to take a seat in the audience of a popular talk show while they were on break along with some of the other Shujin students. You were situated in the second row, squished in between two girls. After the co-hosts chatted a bit, they both stood up and looked at the audience.
"Mr. Akechi's coming on!" The male host said, making your heart stop. You nearly choked on your saliva as you stared at the man who had announced that your one and only soulmate was going to be joining them. The loud screaming of his fangirls rang in your ears as he walked onto the stage and sat on the other couch. You could hear them wondering if he had a soulmate yet, and if his soulmate was someone in the audience. They weren't wrong about the second part. He did have a soulmate, and you were sitting right in front of him.
The detectives eyes swept across the audience for a moment, then went back to looking at the hosts. You weren't sure if he had seen you or not. If he had, he was doing an incredible job of hiding any emotions he was feeling.
The hosts started the show and talked with Goro about the Phantom Thieves. You weren't really paying attention, the sound of your heart beating in your ears was drowning out most of the conversations. Of course, the topic soon flipped to his soulmate, earning excited squeals from the audience.
"Please tell us Akechi-kun. Have you met your soulmate yet?" The male host asked, causing the audience to go completely silent as they waited with baited breath for his response.
"Sadly, I have not, but I'm sure she's out there somewhere." He hummed, smiling bashfully at the camera. His mildly vague answer only left you more confused about whether he had seen you or not. You wondered why he didn't explicitly say that he's already seen you in his mirror.
"Who knows!" Chirped the female host. "Perhaps she's in this audience right now." She finished, making the girls around you squeal. You had to cover your ears, fearing that your eardrums would start to bleed if you didn't.
Once the show came to an end, most of the audience stayed behind in an attempt to talk to the amazing detective. You weren't really sure what to do with yourself. On one hand, you wanted to stay and attempt to talk to him as well, but on the other, you wanted to talk to him in private.
After doing some quick thinking, you decided to head to the restrooms and try to talk to him later. He wouldn't be leaving the building immediately, right? 
You wandered through the winding halls for way too long before you finally found the restrooms. This place was a maze, and you were worried that you'd be lost in it forever. When you had finished, you washed your face quickly, then left the room, only to hear a couple of voices chatting just down the hall, which made relief run through your veins. You'd be able to ask for directions.
As you came around the corner, you found a certain popular young man talking with the male co-host. His back was turned to you, keeping him from seeing you. The co-host was the first one to notice you.
"Hello there. Are you lost?" He asked you, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond. Your heart was racing and it felt like your mouth had gone dry. Goro turned his head to look at who the man was talking to, only to freeze. His eyes widened and he sucked in a quick breath as shock visibly colored his face. Neither of you spoke as you gazed into each others eyes.
Finally, your mind began working again.
"Hi Goro." You said gently, giving him a soft, shaky smile. Your voice trembled and tears quickly sprung to your eyes as the realization that you actually got to meet your soulmate sunk into your mind.
The co-host seemed to be able to read the room because he chuckled quietly, then turned and walked away.
Goro didn't say anything, he just slowly approached you and held his hand out in front of him, just like you did last night. You lifted your hand and pressed it against the junior detectives. 
The young mans hand shook as his mind slowly accepted the fact that you were here right now. He carefully entwined his fingers between yours before he quickly turned his head, looking around to make sure that no one saw you, then he pulled you and dragged you down the hallway. Before you could say any more, Goro had pulled you into a janitors closet and locked the door behind you, pinning you against the door between his arms.
He leaned down and rested his head against your left shoulder as he took deep, ragged breaths, like he was trying to keep himself from crying. 
You reached up and placed your right hand on the back of his head, threading your fingers through his soft, fluffy hair. Goro's hands dropped to your hips, squeezing your sides with an iron grip.
"I'm so happy to finally meet you." You breathed as you nuzzled your face against his head, unable to hold back your tears any longer. With your other arm, you reached up and wrapped it around his neck as tears began sliding down your cheeks.
Goro leaned his entire weight onto you, forcing you to slide to the ground. He slipped his arms around your body and pulled you close to him, making you straddle his lap as he clung to you with a force you've never felt before.
"I have to admit..." He began, voice lower than you've ever heard it. "I didn't think I'd ever get the chance to meet you." Goro continued, somehow managing to hold you tighter. You could feel him grab handfuls of your Shujin uniform. "I'm happy to finally meet you as well, Y/N." He finished, saying your first name out loud.
Goosebumps erupted on your arms and legs as he said your name. You couldn't stop the whimper that escaped your lips as you curled your body around his, reveling in the warmth you've been dreaming of for years.
You slowly ran your left hand up and down his back, taking note of the subtle shivers that ran down his spine from your touches. Goro just buried his face in your neck and hair, silently taking in the moment.
"Goro?" You sniffled, earning a hum in response. "I love you." You told him, sliding your fingers up his neck and through his chestnut locks. The shiver that wracked his body after you said that was far more powerful than the last few.
"Really?" He asked, now trembling uncontrollably.
"Really." You said, feeling one of the detectives hands move up to in between your shoulder blades.
"I love you too." He croaked, nearly squeezing the breath from your lungs. Tears continued to flow down your cheeks as you both clung to each other like your life depended on it.
After who knows how long you've both been sitting in a closet holding each other, Goro pulled away a bit to look at you. He brought one of his hands up and gently rested it against your cheek, rubbing away the stray tear the fell down your cheek. 
You pulled his hand away from your face, earning a confused look from your soulmate before he realized what you were doing. You carefully pulled his glove off his hand, then placed it back on your cheek, leaning into his soft, warm skin.
Goro's lips twitched as you locked your hand around his wrist, not letting him pull away. A breathy chuckle left his lips as you closed your eyes and nuzzled your face into his palm. His thumb gently caressed your cheek bone.
"You came to watch my interview?" He asked out of the blue, making you open your eyes a bit.
"To be completely honest, I only came because one of the homeroom teachers couldn't make it and the Shujin Principal didn't have a backup chaperone. It was a stroke of pure luck." You admitted, giving him a bashful smile. He laughed softly as he leaned in and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.
"It truly was." He hummed, breath fanning across your lips. He was so close.
"Did you really not see me in the audience?" You asked him, figuring it was your turn to ask a question out of the blue. The hand that was still around your waist held you tighter.
"I saw you, but I couldn't be sure. My mind occasionally plays tricks on me, leaving me to believe that I saw you, when I really didn't." He explained, voice nothing but a whisper.
"Well, I'm here now." You told him, pressing your nose to his.
"You're really here." He murmured, tilting his head a bit, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. You held his wrist tighter as you tilted your head as well, heart pounding in your chest as you closed your eyes.
Slowly, Goro leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, pressing you harder into the door as he pushed himself into you. Your lips melded with his perfectly, just like you hoped they would. You ran your thumb against the back of his hand and grabbed a fist full of his coat as a bright warmth spread through your body. It started at your lips, then moved down your cheeks and neck, swelling for a moment in your chest before it continued its journey down your stomach and legs, then settled at your feet.
You felt lighter than air as his lips began moving against yours, as if he wasn't fully sure what to do. You had no idea what you were doing either, so your first few kisses were sloppy, obvious that you were both nervous and inexperienced. After a bit, you figured out a rhythm that worked. You both sucked on each others lips with each kiss, desperately trying to make up for lost time. 
Finally, you had to pull away due to your lungs burning. You sucked in a deep breath, earning a chuckle from the detective.
"Sorry." Goro laughed as you continued to take deep breaths. You just leaned in and pressed your lips against Goro's one more time.
"I love you Goro." You responded, watching as his lips tilted upwards towards his eyes. Your heart always melted when you got to see a genuine smile from him.
"I love you too Y/N." He hummed, making you smile back at him. He pressed one final kiss to your lips before he pulled away completely and helped you stand up. "I don't know about you, but I could go for some lunch right about now." He said as he entwined his fingers with yours.
"Lunch sounds great." You giggled, squeezing his hand before you unlocked the door and walked with the detective out of the building, hand in hand, for everyone to see.
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slut-for-mothman · 3 years
Text
Hell is For Children
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Requested: Yes|No
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
A/N: Special thanks to @oliverbrnch for editing this chapter and making it into what is is !!! I hope you all enjoy my first CM fanfiction !!!
Summary: After 13 years of trying to forget the man he was supposed to call his father, Spencer finds his phone riddled with messages from his father trying to catch up on "old times". He's met with criticism and shame when he reveals he has no want to talk to him. Everyone seems to think his father deserves a second chance. Everyone except for him. Aaron Hotchner. Logically it made no sense, Aaron had a kid of his own, would he not sympathize with his father for wanting to have a relationship with his son? Spencer finds comfort in the older man. Everytime his phone buzzes with a notification from William Reid, Aaron is always there to comfort him and distract him from the burning hole in his back pocket.
Chapter warnings: Angst, allusions to physical abuse. descriptions of violence and gore, swearing, and I think that's it.
Chapter One
December 16th, 5:15pm
"Hey son, I haven't seen or heard from you in a while. I hope you're doing okay."
Seeing that message was enough to twist the young doctors stomach in such intricate and painful knots he thought he might become violently ill.
"A while?" Spencer muttered to himself as he reread the message over and over. "it's been thirteen years, that's more than a while-"
A second message interrupted his train of thought.
December 16th, 5:27pm
"Why don't you come over sometime? My wife would love to see you, just something to think about..."
This message made something inside him break, the world shattering as his knees failed him. He swore he felt time stop as he reread those nauseating characters.
Wife? Since when was he remarried?
'Does she even know what he did to my mom, to me?' Spencer wondered, unable to tear his eyes away from his phone.
Does she even know she left a ten-year-old alone with his mentally-ill mother? Did she know what a selfish bastard he was?
Did they have kids?
Were they really that easily replaced?
Spencers mind was spinning, his apartment floor unsteady underfoot as his vision blurred. Tears stung his eyes, threatening to slip down his cheeks if he dared to blink.
His misery was interrupted as his phone buzzed once more in his palm.
Thankfully, it wasn't from the dreaded unsaved number, just Hotch.
December 16th, 7:14pm
"We have a case."
Spencer gathered his things, wiping the tears from his eyes on the cuff of his sleeve. He'd never been more grateful to hear those four words in his entire life.
His ride on the metro felt infinitely slower than normal, much to the young doctors dismay. The extra free time gave his mind permission to run away from his as much as it pleased.
His phone vibrated again and again with more messages from the unsaved number, each one more hostile and manipulative than the next when Spencer glanced at the device.
December 16th, 7:23pm
"Will you at least give me an answer? I know I screwed up, but that was a long time ago! I have a right to get to know my son."
December 16th, 7:25pm
"Imagine how I feel, not knowing my son has 3 PhD's and having to find out from my ex-wifes nurse. You're not the only one suffering here kid, remember that."
Spencer snapped his battered phone shut in frustration.
How did he even manage to make himself out to be the victim in this?
He's the one who left me.
'I don't owe him shit, not after what he did to me', Spencer thought furiously to himself, his knuckles white where they gripped his messenger bag.
'Maybe I should give him some kind of answer, let him know where he can stick-'
By the time the sentence popped into his head, his chest aching, he had reached his stop. Although cases weren't particularly a positive thing, anything was better than thinking about the man who had abandoned him and, subsequently, essentially ruined his entire life.
As soon as he stepped off the elevator and into the bullpen, he could feel his co-workers' eyes pierce right through him. It was almost like they could sense something was off with him the moment he entered Quantico.
Of course, while they were profilers, it's not like they were mind-readers.
He fled to the break room and poured himself a generous cup of coffee. He wanted to focus on what was important, which was certainly not the unread messages from a fetid man on his cellphone.
While pouring practically the entire container of sugar into his travel mug, he felt someone's hand touch his shoulder. He flinched slightly at the unexpected touch, and he turned to see Morgan, his eyebrows scrunched together in a confused and worried look.
"Slow down, kid. Have some coffee with your sugar." He said, his voice half-joking as he, presumably, tried to ease the tension practically emitting off of Spencer.
His phone vibrated once more from somewhere in his pockets, and Spencer's face twisted in fervent discomfort.
"Earth to Pretty Boy. You good?"
Spencer realized he was getting absorbed into his thoughts again and tried to brush it off with a quick sip of the sickly-sweet caffeinated concoction in his hand and a quick nod.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking." as if Spencer ever stopped thinking in the first place.
"Well, I'm here if you need anything, kid. But for right now, let's go find out about this case." Derek clapped Spencer on the shoulder again, which earned an instinctual flinch.
Instead of dwelling on that, Derek and Spencer strode towards the conference room, where everyone else had already begun piling in ad Garcia and Prentiss introduced them to their present case.
"Three men were found dead on the streets of a Nevada strip mall last night," Garcia began, pulling up the crime scene photos onto the screen.
Spencer flipped through the folder that was handed to him, scanning over the photos while distantly listening to the rather gruesome but ultimately unhelpful details Prentiss and Garcia were describing.
All three men had one of their fingers removed, yet their wedding bands were later found in their stab wounds upon closer investigation. They were all three found in close proximity to different hotels and known "lover's lanes".
The incessant vibrations and noise emitting from the dreaded device in his pocket was enough to make Spencer have a brain aneurysm.
He retrieved the phone from his pocket only to switch it off and shove it into the deep depths of his messenger bag. It wasn't necessary for a plane ride anyway.
His sudden movements earned him a few more concerned glances, but their attention was quickly diverted as Prentiss announced, "Wheels up in 30." effectively dismissing the team to get their things.
Spencer was restless the entire plane ride. It was only thirty minutes into the trip, with an hour and ten minutes left.
Normally, he'd be playing chess or even reading, but neither of those things seemed to tempt him, as all he could think of were the numerous messages probably flooding his discarded phone banished to the bottom of his messenger bag.
The last message he'd read replayed repeatedly in his mind like some awful alarm.
'Imagine how I feel...'
It made fiery anger swirl in his chest.
He could imagine how he felt. Because the pain William Reid inflicted before he finally left was enough to make Spencer understand what it was like to be sent to Hell and back, if such a place existed.
The memory of watching his own father leave his house at age 10 was enough to make him feel nauseous. His father leaving was the final stake through the young man's heart.
The physical pain, he could probably forgive him for. He would never forget, but maybe he could understand.
But leaving your young on to care for his mentally-ill mother? After all the pain he put him through, that kick while Spencer was already down was a new low.
For all Spencer cared, the man could rot. It was almost funny, thirteen years of healing down the drain with just a few text messages.
Once again, Spencer was ripped from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder, It was Hotch, with a guarded but concerned look on his face.
"You've been way too quiet; is everything alright?"
'No', Spencer thought to himself. But he couldn't admit he wasn't okay, especially not before a case. More important things needed to be tended for than his own "daddy issues".
"I'll be okay," Spencer settled for. "Just some weird stuff has been happening lately. It's nothing I can't take care of, though."
It didn't dissuade Hotch's concerned look. If anything, it intensified the worry Spencer found there.
"Is it your mother? Is she alright?" He asked, leaning forward with furrowed eyebrows.
"She's okay! I actually just called her the other night," Spencer assured him. He bit his lip and gripped his messenger bag. "It's actually, uh, my dad. He's been messaging me, and I haven't spoken to him in thirteen years."
"Are you okay? Have you messaged him back any?" Hotch asked, releasing the worried lines on his forehead.
"I haven't, yet. I figured I'd wait until the case was over. That way, there's nothing in the way." Spencer explained, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as his eyes darted around the jet cabin.
Hotch must have picked up the signal to wrap up the conversation, because he gently reminded the young man that he could talk to him whenever he needs to, or just whenever he wants to.
Spencer smiled and inclined his head slightly. "Thanks, Hotch."
"It's not a problem, Reid. Now, let's get back to work."
Spencer flicked through the gruesome photos once more, the swirling anger in his chest dwindling for the first time since his phone at first pinged with that dreaded message.
For once, Spencer was able to completely forget about the slightly outdated phone burning a hole in the bottom of his messenger bag.
50 notes · View notes