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#i went back to reread the first email about it and they were like oh yes heres an opportunity for u to take these classes IF you want!
elegyofthemoon · 1 year
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gotta love my schools not-actually-optional optional classes :^)
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bratshaws · 3 months
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through the hourglass 349. brb x oc
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a/n: uwu once again tumblr cut it short. n i c e i love this (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)
pairing: plus size!oc x rooster
warnings: none uwu
goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)
chapter
1/
/316/317/318/319/320/321/322/323/324/325/326/327/328/329/330/331/332/333/334/335/336/337/338/339/340/341/342/343/344/345/346/347/348
(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )
taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls
@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2
@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12
@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca @callsign-magnolia @mrsbradshaw01
-
He checks his phone early in the morning, he left Bea in the room so she could sleep in alongside the kids. He sipped his coffee while leaning his lower back against the counter, sans shirt with his sweatpants on. “Email I’m gonna reply later,spam,spam,ohh, discount? Nice.” he chuckles as he stars it.
It was Sunday and Bea’s family asked them to join for lunch, since it was the first time in a while that all the Schiavoni kids were together. He knew they still had time, so he didn’t have to worry about that. Jolene lies by his feet, the pittie was quietly snoring while her pups were inside the twins’ and Nicole’s room, keeping him company that morning.
The last email he saw was the confirmation about his promotion. So…next week. He inhales, rereading the email over and over before he arches his brows, ‘Damn.” he whispers, the little anxiety bug crawling up inside his stomach, “Next week…my promotion is next week Jojo.” the dog huffs in reply.
Rooster sat there for a moment, contemplating the upcoming changes. The weight of the promotion settled on his shoulders,and he exhales again. Jolene, sensing his mood, nudged her head against his leg, offering a comforting presence.
"Yeah, girl," Rooster mumbled, absentmindedly stroking Jolene's fur. "Next week is gonna be a big one."
As he sipped his coffee, he allowed his thoughts to wander. The promotion seemed so far away a few days ago, he doesn’t know what happened…well, no, he knew what happened, time went by…but in reality, he was…still getting used to all this. He didn’t know why he was nervous.
The sound of footsteps approached, and Rooster looked up to see Beatrice, her hair tousled from sleep, wearing a cozy sweater and leggings. Her eyes held a warmth that made Rooster's heart skip a beat.
"Morning," she greeted,rubbing her eyes and shuffling closer to him so she could press a soft kiss on his cheek. "Hmmm…you made us coffee?”
"Morning, gorgeous," Rooster replied with a smile, pointing to the coffee maker "Yep, got the coffee brewing. Figured we could use a little morning boost. Spoil you a bit.”
Beatrice smiled, appreciating the gesture as she leans against his shoulder. " As if you don’t do it already…thank you,you–” she yawns “You're the best, Roos." She closes her eyes for a second, crossing her arms, “...I’m all sore.” 
“Oh?”
“My ankle is good though, but my whole body is like,” and she flexes her hand, “Pulsating.”
Rooster chuckled, running his fingers through Beatrice's tousled hair. "Well, you did give it your all on the court yesterday. A bit of soreness is a small price to pay for the victory, don't you think?"
She grinned,painfully so "Yeah…totally worth it. But it was so much fun playing again."
Rooster nodded, "I'm glad you enjoyed it. But if the soreness gets too much, we can always arrange for a relaxing massage.”
“Roos.”
“An innocent one.”
She huffs a laugh, playfully swatting his bare chest, “Don’t tempt me….mama wants us to go there for lunch, if we do that, we might never leave. And you know how they are if we don’t show up.”
Rooster chuckled, "Well, if it involves good food and some pampering, who could resist? I'm in. Just warn them, though, I might indulge a bit too much and fall into a food coma."
She laughs softly, looking up at him with those big green eyes “You know she'll pack some leftovers for us to take home."
"Your mother’s leftovers are like treasures."
“And she loves to pamper you.”
His cheeks darkened as he smiles, “Well,” he shrugs, ‘She did give me you,so I don’t mind.” 
Beatrice chuckled at his response, her eyes sparkling with affection with her cheeks turning pink. "You are too sweet,but let's try to not keep her waiting. I can practically hear my siblings complaining about how we're always late."
Rooster smirked, "Fashionably late is our trademark. Can't disappoint the fans." he says, “Also, Michael, is complaining about our lateness? Your brother?”
She laughs as she pours herself some coffee,petting Jolene on the way, “Listen, we both know Mike is…” and she makes a face trying to find the words, “Just like that. You know his brain starts waking up after ten o’clock.”
Rooster wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her closer. "Hmmm…true,” he props his chin on her shoulder. “...so my promotion ceremony is next week,”
She seemed more alert this time, stopping mixing the sugar in her mug, “Oh?”
“Yeah, got the confirmation email this morning. It's happening next week. And, umm, they want me to prepare a little speech. Nothing fancy, just a few words."
Her eyes gleamed with pride. "A speech? Oh, you'll do great. What are you thinking of saying?"
Rooster scratched the back of his head, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "Well, I…don’t know.” he answers honestly, returning his arm around her waist as she sips her coffee, “I should’ ve thought of something…”
Beatrice turned in his embrace, facing him with a small smile. "Aw baby?"
Rooster chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. It's just...I want it to be meaningful, you know? Not too formal, not too casual. Just...me."
She reached up, cupping his cheek affectionately. "Roos, whatever you say will be perfect. Just speak from the heart.” she shrugs “That's what people want to hear."
He nodded, a soft smile spreading across his face. "You always know the right things to say, don't you?"
Beatrice grinned, "Just trying to be the supportive wife you deserve."
Rooster leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. "Well, you're doing an excellent job at it."
She hummed happily, closing her eyes  "So, any idea what you're going to wear for the ceremony?" Beatrice asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
Rooster raised an eyebrow. "Are you implying my uniform isn't stylish enough?"
She playfully swatted his chest again. "Oh, no. The uniform is perfect. I was just thinking about your 'after' look. You know, for the celebration."
Rooster frowns “....my uniform?”
“Honey.”
Beatrice gave him a patient look. "Roos, it's not that I don't appreciate the uniform, you know I love,” and she clears her throat, her body warming up, “L-Love the uniform. It's just... I thought maybe you'd want to change into something more casual and comfortable after the ceremony. You know, for the celebration with friends and family."
He tried very hard to hide his smile, “Come again?”
She shuddered, oh,him and his innuendos “What?”
“...you said something about me in uniform.” he smirks, “Care to clarify?”
Beatrice blushed, realizing the unintentional double entendre in her words. "Roos, don't get all cheeky on me. You-you know what I meant."
Rooster smirked, lowering his gaze to her lips and then slowly leaning closer. "Oh, I know exactly what you meant, gorgeous. Just trying to keep you on your toes."
"You're impossible."
"That's why you love me." 
“It is one of the reasons.’ she smiles, “But,really, do what makes you feel comfortable, we still have a whole week to plan everything.” she cups his cheeks, “Okay?”
“...okay.” he smiles, “Okay,gorgeous.”
Beatrice leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Thank you, Roos. Now, let's focus on the rest of the day. Um,” she rubs her eyes, “We still have two hours before lunch at my parents and the kids are still asleep.”
“Aaaaaah! My babies!!”
Beatrice barely had the time to say hi before her mother picked Nicole from her hold, her father standing a few feet behind as Bea and Rooster stood on the front porch. Claudia kissed Nicole’s cheeks over and over, whispering in Italian before putting the oldest Bradshaw child down and focusing her attention on the twins inside the carriers, “Oh,oh, they look so big.” she whispers, sniffling, “Oh,come on in,come on in the two of you.”
Beatrice and Rooster followed Claudia inside, stepping into the familiar warmth of the Schiavoni family home. The aroma of Italian spices wafted through the air, and both of them couldn’t help but inhale deeply
As they entered the living room, Beatrice's father, finally took the time to say something since his wife was just being all over the place. "It's good to see you both," he said, giving Rooster a firm handshake. "And who do we have here?" he added, his eyes lighting up as he looked at the carriers.
Rooster held the twins with a proud smile. "They are both wide awake.” And Aurora was the most talkative already, “They woke up seconds before we left.”
Claudia squealed in delight, "Oh, Bea, why didn't you tell us you were bringing the grandkids?!"
“Mamma,why wouldn’t I?”
Claudia sniffled again,”You know what I mean! Oh I have to prepare everything for them!”
“Mamma.”
"Leave her,tesoro,” Rafael says, “Your mom will never stop unless you let her do it.” and he picks Nicole up from the floor, the sound of voices outside getting louder, “Most of them are here. They brought the kids too.”
“Yeah?” Bea asks,following her father, “I’m glad…how are you papa?”
Rafael smiled, a warmth in his eyes. "I'm doing well, tesoro. Just enjoying the peace and quiet, you know how it is."
Beatrice nodded, her gaze flickering to the familiar surroundings of her childhood home. "Yeah, I missed this place. Did you guys paint the walls again?”
Rafael chuckled, "Michael’s idea, it was peeling off and..you know how my back is now.”
Claudia, in the meantime, was bustling around the kitchen, preparing some snacks and treats for everyone. The familiar clinking of pots and pans, the scent of delicious Italian dishes, and the sound of animated conversations filled the air. 
Rooster, standing by her side, observed the lively scene with a smile. "Your family always knows how to throw a warm welcome, Bea."
She nodded, "They sure do. Mamma doesn't know the meaning of a small gathering." she says, “We’re the only ones here,right papa?”
“Hm?”
“No one else is coming,right?”
Are any of her shitty cousins coming?
Rafael blinked at her, then smiled, “Only us.” and she immediately relaxed, “Sabrina will arrive later, only Michael and Leo are here right now-” he pauses, hearing shouting from the outside, “They are playing truco.”
“Truco?” Rooster asks,not helping himself, “What’s that?”
Rafael chuckled, leading them towards the backyard where the voices grew louder. "Truco is a traditional card game we love to play. It's a bit like poker, but with a lot more shouting and gesturing."
“MOTHER FUCKER!”
Rafael gestured to Leonardo who was smugly looking at a fuming Michael, “See?” they sat across each other, while Hannah and Cynthia were busy talking amongst themselves. Nicole rushed over to Bianca and Éowyn once she noticed her cousins and Beatrice waved at her sisters’ in law.
"Truco is serious business in this family," Beatrice explained, a playful smile on her face. "It's a mix of strategy, bluffing, and a whole lot of drama."
Rooster chuckled, settling into the chair. "Sounds intense. I'm ready for the show."
“Brad should join,” Michael says, “Come on man, you can help me out.”
“I never played it.”
Michael grinned, gesturing to the empty chair next to him. "No worries, Brad. I'll teach you the ropes. It's all in good fun."
Rooster exchanged a glance with Beatrice, who nodded with an encouraging smile. "Go ahead, Roos. I’ll be right here.” she says softly, “I’ll talk to the girls a bit.”
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hypersonic04 · 9 months
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since you are the head of the teacher!ross brigade, ive had an idea in my head for YONKS and i dont think ill ever write it so
you're a teacher too, you went to uni with ross (and maybe had a thing with him on the dl) but havent seen him since then but when you start working at a new school surprise!! its the one he works at!! so you guys rekindle your friendship again and WHOOPS you guys get feelings and its just cuteness
This is just the most dreamy concept. You should 100% write a proper version of this, I would read and reread a million times over.
Oh my goodness, imagine seeing him for the first time in like, five or six years i'm thinking? You're a bit nervous - it's your first day at this new school, and yeah, you've been teaching for a few years now, but starting a new job is still super scary!
You're being shown around by a colleague, and you swear it's like slow motion when you walk into the staff room. He's sat there with a coffee in hand, brow furrowed as he marks an essay, his face concentrated. All of a sudden, you're 19 again, on a night out with all of your uni friends, a little bit too handsy with your flatmate's best friend and giggly from the amount of vodka cranberries you've had. You have to clear your throat and bring yourself back down to Earth when you realise that not only are you staring, but you're also a deep shade of crimson as you recall what else happened later that evening, and most evenings after that.
You probably manage to make a swift exit before he looks up, but he knows that voice anywhere. He immediately asks around to see who the new teacher is, and is pleasantly surprised to know that his memory serves him well. At lunch, he comes knocking on your classroom door.
I reckon he's a bit coy at first, memories of what the two of you used to get up to flashing into his mind as he asks how you've been and how you've ended up at the same school as him. You talk about your uni friends, where everyone's living now, the ones that have got married and had babies. It doesn't take long for you to slip back into that easy going, friendly rhythm of conversation, and it actually turns out to be pretty helpful to know someone at work. Seeing emails from him in your inbox makes you smile, even more so when he comes to sit at the back of your classroom as you teach (for 'training purposes only', apparently). He helps you out a lot, especially at the beginning when you're unfamiliar with the abbreviations they use in meetings and the marking procedures, and you end up being really close. It's just a really lovely friendship, and you find that if you're not teaching, you're sat gossiping together or trying to suppress your childish laughter in serious staff meetings.
As you said in your ask, they 100% end up catching feelings for one another. How could he not? He always thought you were really intelligent and funny when you were seeing each other the first time around, and six years down the line, not much has changed. He drives home with a ridiculously wide grin on his face the day you ask him if he fancies going for a drink after work some time, after weeks and weeks of contemplating asking you himself. He tells himself that if things go wrong, you're still friends and you have a really great working partnership, but really, he hopes he can get it right this time (no Oh Caroline pun intended).
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toburnup · 1 year
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Okay bestie for the dvd commentary ask- the latest chapter of IYLO!!
"Hm." Steve tilts his head, examines the side of Tommy's face. It's so dark inside the car that he can barely see him, and Tommy looks nervous. Maybe because it's just them.
"Why're you so scared, man?" Steve says softly, watches Tommy swallow in his seat. "You're the one that brought us here."
"Wasn't my idea."
The silence stretches. Steve approaches the line once more. He forgot what it was like to be around someone who can't hurt him, thinks he could squash Tommy if he really wanted to. If he was still that kind of person.
"It's not like Carol ever cared."
"Not about that, no." Tommy says, and Steve slides in. Drunk. He only feels it when he nearly rests his chin on Tommy's shoulder, body warm, the imprint of Meghan's fingers against his chest.
"She thought it was funny when we kissed that time." And the times after that.
Honestly I’m not a great Reader like it takes me a little while to get shit so it took me a while to pick up on HOW much IYLO (ie like… all of it) is Steve working though heavily ingrained homophobia or just accepting the reality of his sexuality and then I went back to reread bc the first time round I was like “oh it’s just friends to lovers” but no there’s like a lot that you bake in to every scene and subtlety I LOVE but that’s all just me fangirling ANYWAY I would love to hear all about your personal thoughts for the implied stommy and fucking around they did and the impact you think it has/had on their (including Carol’s) dynamic, the full extent of what their situation was (if it’s not like.. spoilers for future scenes!) and Tommy’s whole deal in it as well! It’s like 6 am idk if I’m making sense hahaha neway LOVE u love the chapter every email I get telling me you’ve updated is like Christmas!! 💋
ooooh so you're almost having your own slow-burn with IYLO <3 i love it. i'm trying to write it in such a way that it will be a fun one to reread!
and yesss, the stommy of it all. you're not the only person with this question!! i got a comment with a line like 'what the hell is the nature of tommy/carol/steve's relationship' and like. yes. i have not made it clear in the slightest. which is part of the fun, because now we get to talk about all the things lurking beneath the surface!!
it's not a spoiler for things later on, because i think tommy has served his purpose (? i feel mean) in steve's narrative at this point.
iylo meta below the cut. apologies in advance for how messy this is, i'm just writing stream of consciousness:
i've written tommy as bisexual and carol as straight. and as for the dynamic, if they were older and they weren't all toxic about it, i think they would be able to hook up but only in specific situations.
getting ahead of myself. in terms of background, this is what i'm thinking - in high school, the dynamic is tommy attempting to remain close to steve as steve starts breaking free of their familiar mold. steve is clinging to his identity as someone with social power (but in the context of high school politics). and the high school aspect is important because they are young when this is all going down. it's confusing, not clearly defined, and so i don't think they have a cut and dry answer for what their friendship looks like behind closed doors.
steve and tommy were childhood besties, and then in early HS years, tommy gets a gf, starts spending all his time with her. it makes sense that steve ends up tagging along, perhaps bringing whatever girl he's dating. or not. maybe it's just him.
tommy and carol have one of many arguments, and then steve and carol end up drunkenly making out. steve tells tommy later, but surprise surprise, tommy doesn't really care. and carol calls steve a pussy to his face for telling him. it's weird.
steve realizes he's being used (by carol). so. he does what he does best. coaxes tommy into a kiss when it's just the two of them, waits for tommy to bring that back to carol. steve never gets confirmation that he does tell her - carol doesn't let that slip for a long time - but it's something that keeps on happening.
so....... i suppose i have written stommy as being a side effect of a steve and carol power play. but carol is much more invested in maintaining it than steve is (like how she makes out with tommy after having him drive them to ~lookout point~). and that bothers her. because at the end of the day, it's steve who was calling the shots with the three of them. and now he doesn't even care enough to keep doing it.
carol was PISSED at steve prior to chapter 7 (hence the chilly exchange at his birthday party). the double date is a continuation of carol's own mission lol. she tells tommy to call steve up and go on a double date, she picks out the girl. but the flaw here is that steve isn't as 'tuned in' as he was before and doesn't even see that for what it is, and so carol has to throw it in his face. and that's also the big reason steve doesn't have any intention of sleeping with meghan - she's pretty much a pawn in carol's game, and steve fucking her would pretty much be carol fucking steve (sorry meg).
so, yes. i think that's the biggest conflict between carol and steve. carol doesn't give a shit that steve and tommy have this Thing between them, but she hates that tommy listens to steve.
steve and tommy have the foundation of an actual friendship, pre-carol. carol and steve do not have that same foundation. so even though steve is was in control, without tommy, they have nothing.
isn't writing fun?
[fanfiction dvd commentary ask game]
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so i went back and reread the entire MTW universe because i was doing writing research and then got sucked in.
and man.
MAN. i have never loved a series more than that one. it has all of my favorite elements in it, namely, found family in terms of complex poly relationships. i want more so badly, because i need more of all of the complex relationships. i was also thinking super hard about logan and clint, and that i would love to see more of them too because that's such a unique dynamic that i want to put under a microscope
like i've reread MTW like... too many times to count because i love the repetition of the themes between pete and wade. and ofc the yearning and being horny but not giving into it because reason xyz... oh man. oh MAN. and every time i hit that wild cat scene, it hurts just like the first time. (not quite the same because i remember reading it as you updated and then having to wait for the update and just... checking my phone all the time because i NEEDED to know what happened.)
and while i'm here
ahem
I AM LOSING MY MIND OVER MARRIAGE AND MATE CHASES
I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED A BURN THIS SLOW BUT HOT DAMN IT IS EVERYTHING TO ME
loki being so jealous even though they KNEW this was an eventuality is so sweet. inviting the captain back because they love tony regardless, jealousy burning.
and holy SHIT that scene where tony comes to steve's room???? -fans self- the best jump forward in their relationship, for sure. i cannot wait for steve to wake up in the morning it's going to be SO SWEET (and maybe a little horny...?) i literally lose my shit when i get the update email, it's the best part of my day.
i hope the freak snow wasn't too bad and all the wind didn't scare the animals too bad. it's been crazy warm here for the last few days and it's SO weird, i do not like.
Oh man MTW is my Spideypool Pirate's Heart. As in, it's the Spideypool version of a story that had a very small plot to begin with and escalated to being absolutely monstrous, it had a simple relationship dynamic and then OH LOOK there's multiple romantic arcs and friendships that border on codependent family arcs, it was meant to be mostly in verse as far as the main pairing and storyline and BLEW UP to include mutants and conspiracy theories and a spin off story.
Fun fact about MTW: I actually got the original idea on day when I was chopping kindling for my wood stove? Nothing quite soothes my OCD like a log splitting into clean cut kindling with a real loud CRACK and I thought "huh I bet I could write a scene with one of my characters learning to cut kindling." and literally...MTW was born.
Clint and Logan were such an amazing couple in that fic. I got halfway into writing them and thought "damn I can't separate them" and introduced reincarnation into the verse specifically to make sure Logan always had Clint at his side. And then of course it worked out for the Vanessa storyline too. The whole thing with Cable was really intense too. I just love that character so much and the way he was so intense with Peter? Adored it.
The wild cat scene! That was hard to write and edit but I felt like it turned out SO GOOD. And the whole motif of "Can you feel me/I can't feel you" is so incredible. I love everything about their romance.
MAMC! I can't wait to get back into it. Between being so sick the last few weeks and the actually insane weather we've been having I've had power outages/no internet for the better part of the week which means I've been trying to peck at the story on my phone app and it is SLOW going. But I'm super ready to get back into it today. I have GREAT plans for this upcoming chapter!
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let me be your ruler.2
Warnings: guns, dubcon, noncon, handjob.
This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Pairing: (dark!mob!) Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: You try to forget about Peter but he won’t forget about you.
Note: I hate that I am the way that I am. I wanted to keep this to two parts but you know me. 
Anyways, I’m excited for this and hope you are too.
Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!
Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3
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Drowsy in the afterglow of sex and alcohol, you fell quickly into a deep sleep. You didn’t even change before you sank into bed. You hardly recalled the elevator ride up or stumbling into your apartment and tripping around the shadows to your room. It was only a fractured journey from the car to your mattress.
You woke as your phone vibrated under your pillow. You must have buried it there before passing out. You groaned and rolled over as you dug it out. There were several notifications next to a single name; Peter. You thumbed through each message; written in the same tone as his voice. Demanding, without question.
‘Great night, Princess.’ ‘We’ll do it again Saturday.’ ‘Wear something nice.’ … The messages escalated smoothly from doting to commanding. It jolted you back to the night before, the way he seemed to just thrust you through the night. The dress, the drinks, the men, the guns…
You sat up, your panties crooked on your hips. You muttered and swiped away the messages. You weren’t seeing him again. You couldn’t. You had stuck your toe in too deep already. It was best to nip these things in the bud. Not to let yourself get dragged in so far you couldn’t see the surface. 
Peter was more than mysterious; he was dangerous.
You went to the kitchen and waited for the machine to grind as the scent of coffee filled your heavy body. You drank too much, did too much. You still felt Peter’s hand between your legs. It made your chest tight and your head spin. You looked down at your body, the red dress wrinkled and askew.
You left the coffee to brew and retreated to your room. You tore off the dress and your panties. You pulled on a cotton shirt and loose pajama pants. You stormed back into the kitchen and shoved the clothing in the bin. You snatched your phone from the counter and swiped up the lock screen.
‘Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work out.’ You typed. Your hand shook as you hovered over send. You heard Halle’s door and you pressed your thumb down. You looked up at her before you pulled up the block option.
“How was your night?” She asked as she inhaled the aroma of your morning ritual.
“Eh, you know, another dead end,” you pushed your thumb down and the conversation disappeared. “Just not my type.”
“Really?” She whined. “He seemed so nice. And he liked you so much.”
You blackened your screen and placed your phone face down. “Well, you know, things don’t always turn out.” You shrugged and pulled out a mug, “You want some?”
“Are you at least going to tell me about it?” She pouted. “And yes, lots of sugar.”
You poured her coffee and handed her the sugar dish. You frowned at how much powder she scooped into her cup but it was her most endearing trait. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t care what anyone thought.
“Uh, well, it wasn’t anything special. He took me to a party but… I don’t know. What kind of first date is that? Take me somewhere I don’t know anyone…” You ran your finger around the rim of your cup. “Maybe when I was younger but now.”
“You sound like such an old lady,” she snickered, “Oh my god!” She stood straight, “Are we old?”
“I am, but you’ll always be young at heart, Hal,” you rolled your eyes.
“So you’re not going to try a second?” She prodded.
“I don’t think so,” you cradled your mug, “He… hasn’t even messaged me back.” 
You hated lying but Halle had gotten you into this mess and you knew she’d harp on you for not even giving Peter a chance. But you had. He wasn’t what he seemed and you didn’t want to stick around and find out what exactly he was hiding.
“What?” She huffed. “Well, fuck him then.” She sipped from her coffee and her lips curved as she swallowed. “Wait, did you…”
“Hal, come on,” you snipped.
“Oh, fine, but you know, maybe if you got laid, you wouldn’t be so uptight.” She teased.
“Not this again,” you groaned and slid your phone off the counter. “You know what, I got work to do.”
“Uh huh,” she hummed as you turned to leave, “Work. When did you get so old and boring?”
“One of us had to,” you called back over your shoulder, “And we both know you’re never growing up.”
Your phone was pleasantly still for the rest of the day. You felt a twinge of guilt having blocked Peter but then you recalled the men and their holsters. You found your mind drifting away from your work and your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought back. 
The company he kept added to the uneasiness in your chest. Steve was friendly but arrogant. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, what was it he introduced you as, “Peter’s girl”. And that man, Bucky. He didn’t seem too fond of Peter but the way he’d grinned at you, as if he knew something you didn’t. Well, he did, they all did. Your head stormed as you tried to figure out their secret.
You shook off the curdling paranoia and hunched as you squinted closer at your computer. You made yourself focus as you skimmed the tight font and added your suggestions in the margin. You sent off your edited draft as your stomach groaned; empty and churning from the acidic coffee.
You grabbed your phone and your mug as you stood. You checked the time. Almost noon. You grumbled and went back to the kitchen, thankfully empty as Halle had left for work an hour ago. You set your cup down and expanded your notifications. A single phone call from a private number and a new follower on your mostly empty Insta.
You opened the neglected app and hit the notification. The profile was emptier than yours. the profile pic was just black and there were no posts. The name gave you no hints as it was obviously generated by the site. 
You went back and a comment popped up on the picture of your and Halle at last year's winter market. ‘Gorgeous, Princess.’ You read and reread the two words as you leaned against the counter. You bit your fingertips and went back to the mysterious profile. You hit ‘block’ and locked your phone.
Surely, he’d get the hint sooner or later. It was one date and the man seemed to have no trouble with women. He’d move on and you’d both forget about that off putting night. You just had to wait him out.
A week rolled by as you kept yourself busy with your work. The phone calls stopped after the first day and you had no more peculiar alerts awaiting you. Your plan had worked. It wasn’t exactly the best; it was a bit cowardly, actually. Yet, knowing how Peter was and how ‘no’ seemed beyond his vocabulary, you had more faith in your evasion than his understanding.
As the weekend approached, Halle convinced you to come out with the girls. You had eluded those opportunities for the past year as you found yourself disillusioned and disinterested in the club scene. You felt as if you were aging out of it and seeing all those fresh-faced coeds assured you of it. Even so, the girls liked to dance and in their words, you need to ‘let loose’.
You couldn’t disagree. You had been on edge and the mounting emails in your inbox didn’t ease the stress of everything else.
With a pre-drink burning a whole in your stomach, you pulled on a pair of flats as your bag hung across your chest. You were comfortable but not stuffy in your tight jeans and the bright pink top with the criss-cross straps. You felt pretty good and the vodka made you optimistic.
You headed down to the street and caught a cab. The dread evaporated the closer you got and as you pulled up to the front of the flashing club, Molly and Desiree waved at your approach. The four of you joined the line as you searched out your ID.
“So,” Molly said, “Halle told us about your little date!”
“Date?” You blinked. “Oh, yeah, that didn’t pan out.”
“Of course,” Desiree scoffed, “That guy was so cute though.”
“Yeah, he was nice, but we just didn’t…”
“He’s ghosting her!” Halle interjected, “Didn’t even text the next day, ugh.”
Halle crossed her arms and you nodded. You weren’t going to correct her, you didn’t need the other two piling on about your dormant love life. You came out to have a good time, that’s what they promised you, and you didn’t want to think about the night that still stood so vividly in your mind.
As you stepped up to the bouncer, he barely looked at your card. You were almost offended as he waved you through and carded the next party more closely. You glanced around at your friends but they hardly seemed bothered. Well, only Halle had reached that big three-o with you, and the other two girls still had a year or two to go.
Madonna’s voice pumped from the speakers as you neared the bar. You looked around at the streaming lights and the bodies shadowed in the strobe. You were surprised you recognized the song and you nudged Desiree as she waited for Molly to order the first round.
“What’s up with the music?” You asked.
“It’s retro night! Duh! Just for you!” She giggled and you elbowed her harder.
Molly turned and passed out the plastic cups with their thin straws and you followed Halle to the low stage where the smoke machine billowed. You coughed at the taste of the fog and sucked on your straw. You began to sway as the other girls led the charge. You could help but be enlivened by the deep base and the energy all around.
As you danced, the girls yelled back and forth about their recent drama. Desiree’s date had been more successful than your own, Molly was certain she was in love with Charlie? You still didn’t know. And Halle was just riding the vibe.
You finished your drink and the other girls stacked their cups in yours before you crossed the stage to leave the garbage on the table just beside the platform. 
You looked over at the bar, pondering another, and your eye was caught by a figure who seemed out of place. The cut of his suit, the way he leaned on hand on a stool, and the intense gaze sent in your direction startled you.
You blinked and stumbled over to the single step down to the floor. You pushed through the bodies, nearly tumbling as a tipsy guy crashed into you. You got to the bar and looked up and down it. Girls waved their hands to get the bar tender’s attention and guys sidled up to them. 
Bucky was gone. It was him. Maybe the air was filled with smoke and the lights were flashing like a siren, but you were certain. Why was he there? How had he found you among the city? Among the reverie in that club? Why had he been watching you? And where had he gone?
You went to where you’d seen him and searched the perimeter of the bar. You went back through the club and slipped past those just getting in. You tapped on the bouncer’s shoulder and he grumbled before he turned and bent to hear you. “What is it?”
“Did you see a guy in a suit leave? Dark hair and--”
“There’s a lot of people here,” he shrugged you off.
You snarled and turned back. You got ahead of the flood of new arrivals and fought your way back to the three girls on the stage. As you walked up, Halle pouted and grabbed your elbow. “Boo, we thought you were getting another round.”
“No, no, I…” you squirmed and tried to get back into the rhythm, “I had to use the restroom.”
“Well, how about now? Wanna refill the tank?” She jibed.
“Uh, sure,” you picked at the purse. “Be right back.”
“Make mine a double,” Molly called after you. “Thanks.”
Despite drowning yourself in alcohol, you barely slept and when you did, you were back in the club, staring at a man you never expected to see again. You wondered if maybe you’d imagined it or if Peter had sent him after you or if it was someone else and you were just tipsy and blind. Whatever it was, you couldn’t shake the foreboding that followed you into the next morning.
Your Saturday was painful and lazy. You spent your hangover on the couch and barely saw Halle as she cowered in the dim light of her room. You fell asleep there and dragged yourself to bed just before nine. You really were old, or at least, getting there.
Sunday slapped you in the face after another night of disjointed dreams. Peter and the room full of men, Bucky at the bar, and static in between. Responsibility called you from your mattress and you cleaned up and dressed for your weekly trip to the grocery store. 
As you came out, Halle was glaring at her phone. “What’s up?” You asked as you shoved your wallet in your purse. “You coming to the store?”
“I got called in for one.” She pouted. “Tell me why I fucked that asshole?”
“Shit, Hal, I’m sorry. Well, I’ll just do the shop myself.” You frowned, “Let you get ready to deal with all that.”
“It’s all because he fucking texted me on Friday and drunk me decided to reply and then… urgh, why do I do this?”
“I don’t know why you’re asking me?” You grinned.
“Oh, please go before I throw this at you,” she shook her phone, “And don’t forget my oat milk.”
“Whole milk?” You asked as you slipped your shoes on, “Got it.”
“Don’t,” she warned.
“Alright, alright. Hopefully I catch you before you go,” you stood and grabbed your keys from the hook. “Have fun with Mr. Bossman.”
“Shut up,” she buried her head in her hands, “Oh my god!”
You tried not to laugh as you left. You felt bad for her as you didn’t know what you’d do in her situation. Looking for a new job had been her first thought but the market was never very good and the man who was driving her away, wasn’t exactly a shining reference.
You took your usual route to the grocer. You had your list on your phone and loaded your cart. You filled the reusable bags and set off for a very inconvenient subway ride home. Your arms screamed as you carried the load up your street and struggled to find your keys at the door. The elevator was too slow and you ended up hauling it all up the stairs. You were out of breath as you got to your apartment.
You turned the knob just a little and kicked open the door. You stomped in and dropped the bags. “So, I got your damn milk--” You stopped short as your voice collided with Halle’s. She was already dressed for work but her braids were still loose. She stood behind the couch as she talked to your unexpected visitor.
“Oh, there she is,” she said snappily, “I wouldn’t blame her for kicking you out but I’ll leave it up to her.” Halle turned to you, “Look who’s here. Only took him a week to come around.”
“Hal,” you said softly as you set the bags down. “What--” You lowered your voice, “Why’d you let him in?”
“So he can apologize to you,” she huffed loudly and passed you to close the door, “Don’t you worry, I still gotta finish getting ready so you have lots of time to hear him out.” She looked at him sharply.
“Really, it’s…” You gulped as you peeked over at Peter. He sat calmly in the chair as he watched you. “Yeah, okay.”
She marched into her room and as her door closed, you reluctantly approached the back of the couch where your roommate had just stood. You stared at Peter, uncertain what to say. You hadn’t been prepared for this; for him to be there in your apartment, your home.
“Peter,” you ran your hands over the couch cushions.
“You lie to everyone you know?” He asked. “As I recall, I’m not the one who’s been… ‘ghosting’, as your friend says.”
“I…” You shifted and picked at the seam, “Look, I told you it wasn’t going to work--”
“You barely gave me a chance. Gave us a chance,” he said as he pushed his legs apart. “That’s hardly fair.”
“Well, you know, I have work and it’s just not a good time for me right now.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but--”
“Ha, princess, I don’t hurt so easy,” he smirked, “Why don’t you sit down and we can talk properly… finally.”
You scratched your brow and cleared your throat. “I don’t think we need to do that.”
Your voice trailed off as Halle opened her door again. She swept out and you waited as she scooped her purse off the counter and sidestepped the groceries still sat on the floor.
“Gotta go,” she sang, “I’ll see you after work.” She stopped by the door as she wiggled into her heels, “Let me know how you deal with… him.”
“See ya,” you said quietly and watched her go. You looked back at Peter slowly as he chuckled.
“What did you tell her about me?” He wondered.
“Nothing. Really.” You said. “I have your jacket. You want it back--”
“Sit,” he gestured to the couch. “We’ll worry about that later.”
“No. Peter, please. I’m just not interested, okay?”
“You seemed pretty interested in the car,” he purred, “Seemed real interested.”
“I…” You looked at the wall and squirmed. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“You were asking for it in that dress,” he intoned. “Now,” his movement drew your eye as he reached into his jacket, “I don’t like playing things like this.” He pulled the pistol from its holster and rested it on the arm of the chair, his hand firm on the handle. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”
You stared at the gun. Your blood burned hot and you felt blindly as you came around the couch and dropped down. Your eyes never left the muzzle. Would he use it on you?
“Oh, princess, don’t you worry, I’m just getting comfortable.” He taunted. “Now, I’ve been tryna figure out where I went wrong. I got you a pretty dress, I took you to a nice party, I fed you champagne, and I even gave you a little dessert,” he mused and his lip curled, “So I gotta confess I’m confused as you why you’ve been hiding from me.”
You were paralyzed. You clutched your knees and gritted your teeth. You didn’t know what to say. You’d convinced yourself that you’d never see him again. Your method was tried and trued, at least, when it was used against you.
“Don’t be afraid. You can tell me. I really would prefer the truth.” His finger slid along the short barrel as he spoke. “So?”
“I… Peter, I don’t think that we would, uh, work out. Look, I don’t like guns and…” Your lashes fluttered, “I don’t really know that I wanna be around someone who carries one. Not too mention, your friends--”
“My friends. Princess, your mine. They won’t touch you.” He raised his chin. “They’re not that bold.”
You were silent. Your heart pulsed loudly and you took a breath. You stood cautiously and crossed your arms. “Peter, we talked. I told you my reasons. I think you should… go.” You said as firmly as you could.
He laughed again. His cheek twitched and the smile fell away from his face. He rose slowly and turned his gun to tuck it away under his jacket. His eyes never left you as he did.
“You really want me to go?” He asked.
You nodded and held your breath. “Yes.”
He threw his hands out and clapped them against his pants. He shook his head and crossed the room. You turned to watch him as he passed and suddenly, you were thrust towards him. His hand was on the back of your neck as he pulled you against him. He held you tightly and you felt his gun poking through his jacket.
He grinned, his lips only an inch from yours. “I’m going, princess, but not without you.”
“Let go of me!” You struggled with him. “Get off!”
“Princess,” he warned as his fingers dug into your neck, “Settle down.”
“No, I told you to go.” You hissed as you grabbed his wrist. “Please.”
“Let’s get this straight,” he said, “You don’t tell me what to do. Even if it gets me hard.” He crushed his lips to your suddenly and you wrestled with him, your teeth grazing his lip before he pulled back sharply, barely escaping a bite. “You don’t wanna do that.”
His hand went to your chin and he looked you in the face. He rubbed his nose against yours and growled. You beat on his chest and he squeezed tighter.
“Shit, let’s not just rush out of here,” he released you, “You should get those away before they spoil.”
He stepped back and placed his hand on the front of his jacket, where his gun was hidden. You gaped at him and your eyes flitted to the door.
“Ah, don’t worry, we’ll be on our way soon enough,” he said, “So long as you hurry up.”
You swallowed and he moved with you as you went to the bags. He blocked the door as you pulled the straps apart and began to unpack shakily. You dropped a can and it rolled along the floor before he stopped it with his foot. He kicked it back and leaned an elbow on the door frame.
You picked it up with several other cans and went to the cupboard. You snapped the door closed as you felt around the drawer with your other hand. You heard a click and looked to Peter as he aimed his pistol at you. He tilted his head. 
“Don’t do that,” he intoned as your hand lingered just inches from the knives inside the drawer.
You went back to the spread of groceries and tried to ignore him as you put everything in its place. As you bent to fill the crisper, he purred, a sizzly ‘princess’ under his breath. You finished up and packed the bags one into the other. You left them on the counter and again, he put his gun away.
“Princess, let me tell you something,” he gripped the door handle, “I don’t take that out without using it very often so don’t press my patience.” He turned the knob slowly, “I’ve waited on you long enough.”
The car ride was tense and long. Peter drove you uptown and you watched out the window helplessly. You rubbed your palms together nervously as they dampened with sweat. He’d taken your phone when you reached for it. He tossed it and it was somewhere on the floor.
He drove past the condos and the walk-ups and continued on nearly the exact path he’d taken on the momentous night. Another grand house awaited you but you remained in the seat as Peter climbed out. He opened your door and still you didn’t move. He reached across you to unbuckle the seat belt and grabbed your arm. He jerked you out onto your feet and sighed.
“Peter,” you begged, “What’s going on? Please, you’re scaring me.”
“Princess, have I done you wrong?” He asked but you didn’t answer. “I won’t hurt you.”
“You’re hurting me right now,” you wriggled your arm and he shoved you ahead of him.
“In,” he demanded as you stumbled up the rounded steps. “Now.”
You opened the door and stepped inside. You crossed the marble floor of the foyer as he directed you from behind. He followed at a pace, close enough that you couldn’t flee. Even if you did, you wouldn’t make it far.
“Pete,” the voice startled you and you stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase. Bucky stood in a doorway to your left. His gaze moved from you to Peter and back again. “I didn’t realise you brought company.”
“You’re still here?” Peter snipped.
“Was I supposed to leave?” He sneered. “You got me and Steve running around and you’re gonna kick us to the curb.”
“You don’t look very busy to me,” Peter growled and neared to rest his hand on your lower back. He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Upstairs, turn left, the room at the very end. I don’t like hide and seek, you got me?”
You nodded and looked at Bucky again. His mouth slanted knowingly and his tongue poked out for just a moment. You turned up the stairs and left Peter behind. You reached the top and listened for a moment to his muffled voice.
“You and Steve do your fucking job and leave me alone. Understand. I don’t want to be bothered.” Peter snarled.
“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be interrupted either,” Bucky snickered. “Not with her.”
“Go,” Peter barked. “Now.”
“Ay, you might be Tony’s man but you still gotta watch yourself,” Bucky warned. “This little arrangement isn’t gonna last forever…”
You went to your left and to the door at the end, like he said. You entered and couldn’t help but gasp at the immense bedroom. The black and white decor was expertly matched in marbles and exotics woods, plush velvet and polished sconces. You couldn’t help but admire the luxury.
You didn’t close the door. You glanced around dumbly and stood in one spot as you feared you might break something. You wrung your hands as you heard the steady footsteps and you spun as Peter entered. He looked even more agitated as he cracked his knuckles.
“Sorry about that, Princess,” he said, “Now where were we?” His eyes roved the room as he thought, “Ah, yes, an apology.”
“Apology. I…”
“Should I close the door?” He raised a brow, “You’d be surprised how sound carries in here.”
You frowned and he laughed as he swung the door shut. He neared you and bit the tip of his tongue as he considered you. His brown eyes bore into you and you took a step back. He stayed near and caught your wrist. His other hand fumbled with his belt and he let out a slow breath through his nose.
“Princess, I’d love to treat you how you deserve but you gotta be good to me too.” He pulled on your arm and twisted as you tried to resist. You hissed and he pushed your hand against his crotch. “I don’t forgive easy but I’m sure you can change that.”
“Don’t... don’t make me do this,” you uttered.
“Oh, but princess, you did this,” he pressed your hand around his bulge. “You take care of me and I’ll do the same.”
You parted your lips to argue and he grabbed the back of your head. He kissed you roughly and guided your hand to the top of his boxers. He slid your fingers under the elastic and urged you on, wrapping your fingers around his dick with a groan.
He squeezed until you gripped him firmly. He led your hand up and down as he held you to him, his hot breath filling you as it picked up. He forced his tongue into your mouth and you clawed at his jacket as he kept your other hand around him. He parted from your mouth at last and pressed his cheek to yours.
“Keep going, princess,” he purred as he slowly withdrew his hand from around yours. “You don’t wanna use your hand, I might think of something else.”
You quivered and slid your hand up and down his length. He nuzzled your neck and nibbled as he moaned against your skin. You could only move your hand as you stood against him stunned and rigid. He gripped your waist as you felt him tense and he murmured hungrily.
“Oh, princess,” he breathed and pushed his pelvis against your hands as he came. 
You felt the slick heat seep down your hand and slowed until he was breathless. He stilled your hand with his and carefully eased your hand from his pants. He stood straight and eyed your glistening fingers.
“Shit,” he swore as he caressed your cheek, “You made a mess of this suit.” He dropped his hand to the front of his pants as he smiled. He inhaled and pushed his shoulders back. “I forgive you, Princess.”
720 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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shinescape · 3 years
Text
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Act Normal
Idol Jaehyun x Reader
Requested!
note: anon, hope you like how this turned out. Enjoy the read <3
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Multiple notifications rang from your phone as you busily typed on your laptop. Working from home was heaven at one point but now it’s just pure torture.
You tried to ignore the non stop ringing from your phone but it was hard when you saw it flashed from the corner of your eye.
After sending the last email to your colleague, you took your phone and scroll through the notification, eyes widened at every single one of it. Jaehyun was on the Vlive App and you without a second thought signed in to the app on your laptop.
There he was with two other NCT members, Mark and Jungwoo. You noticed his face lit up when you sent in a waving hand emoji. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to see since there were tons of comments coming in at once but he did.
Jaehyun then looked up into the camera and waved which caught the younger members off guard. “Who are you waving at?”
“I’m just greeting the ones that just came in. Hi, did you miss me?” Jaehyun spoke with a smile plastered on his face. The comments were quick to flood with replies and heart emojis.
You almost forgot how famous he was these days. You had a feeling he wouldn't notice your comment but you sent it anyway.
-I miss you a lot. I hope you’re doing well-
You listened to Mark who was updating about their recent photoshoot and wished he could share the photos but instead asked everyone to anticipate for it’s official release.
Jungwoo was nodding at the side and you saw Jaehyun smiling all by himself as he scrolled through the comments on another phone. He was literally in his own little world. You wondered if he saw your comment and tried again.
The work you had was left aside as you were admiring how handsome your lover was looking at the moment. Even rejecting text messages from your work group chat to solely focus on Jaehyun.
-I stopped focusing on my work for you Jaehyun.-
-Looking handsome as always-
You watched as he silently read all the comments and smiled to himself. Jungwoo who had another phone in his hand was reading the comment section as well and noticed that the fans were asking about Jaehyun who hadn't said much since they started.
“Jaehyun, what have you been up to these days?” “Jaehyun, please say something. It's been ages since you came on live.” Jungwoo read out loud and patted Jaehyun’s arm telling him to say something to the fans.
“These days I’ve been working out, catching up on some series” He stopped and tried to recall what else he did.
“Oh, I also went out to eat sushi with y/n last week.” Mark instantly turned to Jaehyun who froze and tried to look nonchalant at what he just said.
You on the other hand freaked out as well. “Jaehyun, you actually slipped my name out like that?” You covered your face behind your hand and peeked through the gaps of your fingers as you read the new posted comments.
Jungwoo, who was fast to act, started changing the topic. “Aren’t you curious about me, Czennies?” he pouted to the camera and saw the number of hearts shoot up instantly.
But the comment about what Jaehyun said didn’t die down. It was so rare of him to slip up like that and you really hoped he wouldn’t get any serious punishment due to that.
-Who is y/n?-
-did i heard it wrong, he said y/n right?-
“y/n is a friend of mine. We just went out to eat, nothing more.” Jaehyun finally explained after seeing so many comments asking who you were.
He looked straight ahead and nodded a bit before conversing back with Mark and Jungwoo. It was most probably their manager or a staff member.
You guessed that they were told to not read the comments anymore and were starting to wrap things up. “Alright everyone, that's all from us. I hope we can talk more often in the future. Again, thank you for watching. We love you!” Mark said as all three of them waved goodbye to the camera and the screen turned black.
Feeling worried, you texted Jaehyun that instant. As you waited for a reply, you went on twitter and as expected his name was trending.
Things don't get easy especially with fans who recorded the whole session as there were multiple clips of him mentioning your name.
You hoped that this won’t affect him badly since it has been awhile since he showed up on the streaming app. Your phone rang a specific tone and you knew it was Jaehyun.
-I’m sorry that happened. It’s probably cause I miss you a lot.-
-Jaehyun, you don’t have to apologise. I miss you a lot too.-
Both of you converse longer than usual and he for the tenth time assured you that the company won’t punish him severely or anything despite it might be a serious issue. Jaehyun was really glad that you were understanding and didn’t get upset with him like most people would.
He knew the fans would try to dig information about you but you told him that it won’t be that easy. “I’m just a regular person who happens to date Jaehyun from NCT. Don’t worry about me, okay?” He recalled the exact words you told him when you first started dating.
-Can I have dinner at your place?-
You had to reread his text a couple of times before replying. “Are you sure?” you murmured to yourself as you typed back.
-the company didn’t say I can’t visit my lover. Wait for me, love-
You had the biggest grin on your face as you read his message. Every single day you fell for him like it was the first time. It didn’t help that he knew just what to say and make your heart flutter every single time without fail.
Both of you may not meet up and spend time like regular couples but it was more than enough to know that you understand each other and try to make things work.
He would do his best to text or call during his free time and you would try to not get worked up when his schedule got too hectic and forgot to reply back after a week or so.
It’s tough but you knew what you were getting yourself into and so did Jaehyun. If you love each other, what’s a little bit of sacrifice, right?
185 notes · View notes
byulsgrease · 3 years
Note
if you arent too busy, can you write a idol!hwasa x idol!reader, wherein they both have to practice with each other for a special stage. However on the first meeting they become starstruck and cant believe somethings are real, but soon warm up to each other?
i'm not terribly busy but this still took a while anyway oops - sorry this took so long anon! here you go :D
if anyone has requests for the other members hmu cuz I've got 2 more hyejin reqs after this one (not that I'm complaining)
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"who says we can't do something on our own?"
(hwasa x idol!reader, ~1.2k words)
cw: food + alcohol mention (y'all know how it is)
I named someone Minjeong - it's not Aespa's Winter, idk anything about 4th gen gg's - 민정 is my Korean name so it's just what came to mind
"Hey, wake up. You've gotta see this. GET UP," a voice piercing through the fog of your sleep.
What a rude awakening. Your shoulders being shaken vigorously by a pair of small hands meant they belonged to none other than Minjeong, your youngest group member. You rolled over to glare menacingly at her with one eye open, trying to pull your brain out of the slumber. All you could see was the bright light of her phone shining in your eyes - a video of some kind. But then you heard the audio:
"Have you seen the clip?" asked the interviewer.
"Yes, my members and many MooMoos made sure I saw it"— Moos? Oh, it's Hwasa. WAIT. Both your eyes flew open as you sat up and snatched Jeongie's phone out of her hand to stare at the video. Your mind immediately flashed back to the interview you did last week - they asked who you most wanted to collaborate with, if there were no limitations. Your ears started to heat up at the sheer thought of the flustered mess of an answer you gave - of course you said Hwasa. Both of you debuted relatively close to each other, within a year, but never interacted much over the years. Mamamoo as a group was a force to be reckoned with, but there was just something about Hwasa specifically. You mostly just admired her unique singing voice and undeniable stage presence, and her relentless drive to always be herself in an industry constantly trying to fit women into a box.
Finally snapping out of re-living that embarrassment, your attention turned back to the phone in your hand. The interviewer must've asked her to send a message in response to you, because you couldn't believe that she was waving and saying, "How haven't we gotten to know each other better over all these years? I'd love to work with you on something sometime," curtly dipping her head in a slight bow.
"SEE? You needed to see that," Minjeong rushed to say, full of energy. "And close your mouth, your jaw's on the floor," jokingly pointing.
You side-eyed her and shut your mouth. "Is this what Loco felt like when she called him during Hyena on the Keyboard?" you wondered aloud.
"At least she's not calling you while on camera," she commented, knowing full well that you'd probably embarrass yourself again if she did. "But hey, at least she noticed you! Can I have my phone back now?" It would be a dream come true to collaborate with her, but cross-company collabs... always a pain. that couldn't be helped. The fantasy abruptly ended with demands from your rumbling stomach. Done with your what-if's, you placed the phone back in your maknae's outstretched hand to get up and make breakfast.
~~~~
With award show season rolling around, the crazy scramble of rehearsing for special live stages without leaking sets and collabs began. Checking your email that morning showed a schedule to record the backing track for a special live stage, but that was it. With who? You texted your members a screenshot, but they all told you that block of time in their schedule was empty. A solo stage? The solo mini-album you released this cycle did relatively well, the title track got a music show win, but not a multi-week chart-topper by any means. Possibilities turning over in your mind, you stepped out from your place to head to the company, totally in the dark about what was in store.
The recording studio always smelled the same along with the couches, a comfort for all the insanely long nights and crack-of-dawn early mornings over the years. With a bit of time to kill, you plopped down on one and gingerly patted the worn cushions as some kind of symbolic thank-you for supporting you (literally).
A hesitant but loud knock sent your gaze directly to the door. Watching it slowly open, you leaned forward to see who it was. Needless to say, your jaw fell to the floor again as you clapped a hand over your gaping mouth, eyes widening. Like a soldier obeying a command, you immediately stood up as straight as possible and bowed profusely at Hwasa, sporting a very similar expression on her face (which you failed to notice, your mind running a million miles a minute).
After a series of frantic bows and miscellaneous utterances to each other, she spoke. "It's nice to finally meet you," she said with calm, surveying your frenzied state. "I guess we're granting that collab wish from your interview, huh?"
The red-hot embarrassment leapt to your face. "I...I definitely made a fool of myself answering that question. And our maknae showed me your interview clip too, which was cool, but never did I think it would actually happen," you stammered. I should probably stop talking.
"Well, here I am," she half-smiled coolly. "Let's get started, I'm really looking forward to finally work with you on this," a gleam in her eye and a hint of excitement in her voice.
The studio suddenly felt a lot smaller with her in it, despite there only being your managers, the producer, and the both of you - less people than you and your members alone. Both of you remained relatively quiet the whole time, rather unsure of what to say or talk about. You watched enough MMMTV to know that all the members on their own were shyer than together, and Hwasa knew the same was true for you. But the work basically took care of itself, seamlessly taking turns in the recording booth, witnessing each other's work style and process. The both of you knew your way in front of a mic, seasoned professionals by now. Upon wrapping up, you bowed politely to each other after a quick exchange of KaTalk info, a short and sweet goodbye.
That was... anticlimactic. I mean, it's finally happening - I can't believe it. But maybe I was too idealistic about maybe creating a meaningful relationship with her outside of work... What does she think of me?
~~~~
In the days leading up to the collab stage, you kept going back and forth on whether to reach out or not, despite now being in possession of her contact info. What would you even say? Thoughts of a witty one-liner or relatable meme came to mind, but maybe she'd assume the worst - that you were clout-chasing, or something. Anxieties abuzz, your phone vibrated in your pocket. The KaTalk notification sprawled across your screen. Speak of the devil, it's her.
"Hey, awards season has me stressed. I know you must pretty busy right now too, but I somehow get off early tomorrow if you wanna grab dinner after work?" You had to reread that one. Oh, what? She's inviting me?
Trying not to be weird about responding too quickly, you typed out, "Wow, yeah, that sounds great! ^^ wait, your company doesn't care about you going out to eat during award season?"
"nah, they stopped having that kind of control over us a while ago, we are the money-maker of the company, after all 😏"
"so I guess this means they don't check your phone either ㅋㅋㅋ"
"nope :)"
You proceeded to set a time and place to meet, someplace with meat.
In the process of feasting on an inordinate amount of gopchang imbued with a splash of beer, you learned a fair amount about each other. You talked career, professional aspirations, the weird habits of your members, and more. What surprised you most was the amount of things she already knew about you, having admitted to watching some of your behind-the-scenes content after seeing your interview clip.
"Ah... I'm sorry if I came across as distant during that first recording session," she confessed, pausing to sip her beer. "I honestly didn't know what to do with myself, I felt a little star-struck."
"Oh what?? I felt the exact same, so no worries - and sorry if I came off similarly distant," you rambled back. A bit of silence fell between you, acknowledging the mutual sentiment. You spoke up after a bit, "Thanks for inviting me out tonight, I didn't realize how much I needed this."
"Thank you for making the time, I had fun getting to know you better," she articulated with a smile. "Maybe it'll make the collab stage better," she added on jokingly. You responded with a nod and expression of mutual affirmation.
~~~~
After that, messaging each other became a regular occurrence, that gopchang outing having broken the ice. Honestly, you tried your best to talk about anything besides work, but the baseline of shared understanding connected you in a way that came more naturally than it did with your non idol friends.
You stood across the way from her at the sound check for the final stage, dressed in joggers and slides. Funny to think that you'd be recording this for real in a couple hours, making eyes with the blinking red light on the cameras surrounding you. It sucks that fans wouldn't get to experience the energy and atmosphere of the performance - Hyejin alone is one thing, but adding someone else into her stage presence? Unmatched. There's nothing quite like a live performance - and while you knew everyone in the industry dealt with the consequences of the pandemic, it certainly took a toll to perform and not feel the energy from fans. But realistically, nothing you could do about it. The sound check went over smooth like butter. The stage chemistry came flowing naturally between you both, even when bare-faced and dressed in just sweats.
And when the time came for the actual filming, you both absolutely killed it, an upbeat mash-up of TWIT and your title track. At the very end came a sliver of hesitation before throwing your arms around each other with a big smile for the ending fairy, proud of the work you accomplished together, and a mental fist-pump to yourself for making friends with one of the industry's finest.
Once again walking to a restaurant that served mostly meat to celebrate, you playfully proposed, "We... should do that again sometime." A little puff of air came out her nose in amusement.
"Yeah, we should. Too bad we're gonna have to wait a whole cycle before we can release anything else together again," she sighed longingly.
"Who says we can't do something on our own?"
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bobohu4eva · 3 years
Text
Pink Lace - Chapter 5
Characters: Baekhyun x Reader
Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn
Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.
Word count: 4k
Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut
Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo
Masterlist
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After your conversation with Baekhyun Monday evening Tuesday was spent desperately trying to get Baekhyun off your mind, with little success. He’d asked you if you liked him like that, and you couldn’t tell him no. Hell, you knew in the back of your mind that the answer was definitely yes, you just couldn’t bring yourself to say it to his face. 
As much as you did like him, the prospect of starting something with a customer who was also your professor was still terrifying. What if you two got together and people found out? Or what if things started to go south and you were still stuck with him as your teacher? 
Despite your other schoolwork, and cleaning basically everything you possibly could, your mind just kept racing with every different possible scenario for if you did tell Baekhyun how you felt. And most of them were quite unpleasant. He could lose his job, you could make class absolute hell for yourself if things didn’t go well, and so on. Different possibilities played themselves out in your mind over and over, and there was little you could do to stop it. 
However the thoughts that stuck with you the most were the ones where things didn’t end badly. Thoughts of his arms around you, his comforting words whispered in your ear, and the gentle touches of his pretty hands on your skin. As much as you fought it, the attraction was there. 
The way your mind bounced between thoughts was stressful to no end. Every time you tried reasoning with yourself, you just thought about how good he made you feel when you were alone together. 
Baekhyun was always so willing to be vulnerable with you, it made you feel appreciated. He was so open about his feelings, and honest with his intentions towards you that it made it difficult to push him away. You wanted to be able to show him the same kind of vulnerability as well, but the possibilities if you did still frightened you too much. 
You knew you wouldn’t be able to go on like this forever, sooner or later you had to figure out what to say to him. 
Your essay was plaguing you as well. You’d tried to start it on several occasions, but Plato’s writing was so old timey and incomprehensible you didn’t even know where to start. It also didn’t help that every time you tried to start writing, all you could think about was what Baekhyun would think. The idea of turning a shitty paper in for him to read and grade made you feel sick. You knew you were shooting yourself in the foot putting it off but you just couldn’t bring yourself to start it either. 
“You’ve cleaned everything in the apartment. Twice. What’s with you today y/n?” Mia asked as she walked out of her bedroom and into the common area, finding you once again wiping down all the surfaces in the kitchen. 
“I’m trying to distract myself, was that not obvious?” You knew what was coming next. 
“Baekhyun still on your mind?” 
Yes. He was. In every possible way, good and bad, and you couldn’t stop it. 
“I think I do like him.” 
“See! I knew it!” You rolled your eyes at her. “Anything exciting happen yesterday? Did you decide to keep the money?” She asked, sitting down at the dining room table, you sitting down across from her. 
 “I’m keeping it, I tried giving it back but he told me some stuff and turns out he doesn’t need it after all.” 
“So he IS rich?!” 
“Yeah... although not from anything cool or fun. His rich parents died recently.” 
“Oh shit, that sucks. That must’ve been an awkward conversation.” 
“Not really. I don’t know why but talking to him is getting easier and easier. I even stayed after he told me I could go.”
“You really must like him then, damn. Can’t blame you though, he is hot.” You shot her an angry look but you both knew she was right. “So what are you gonna do about it?” 
“Do about what?” 
“You liking him. He obviously likes you a lot too, so what happens next?” 
“Nothing. He’s my professor.” 
The look she shot you next said something reminiscent of ‘are you fucking serious’.
 “Oh come on y/n this guy is hot, and rich, and super into you. Even if he is your professor you can’t pass up a fling at least.” 
“And when it ends? What then? Or if someone finds out he’s fucking a student? He’d lose his job and it would be my fault.” 
“No, it would be his fault, and he’s rich anyway so it wouldn’t even matter.” 
You thought back to your last conversation with Baekhyun, and what he said about his parents. Even if he did choose to risk it for you, the thought of him losing a job that meant so much to him still didn’t sit right with you. 
“It would matter to me. Either way I don’t want other students shit talking me either. If my classmates found out there was something between us it would be hell.” 
“All I'm hearing right now, is that you just need to not get caught. The semester is only 16 weeks, as long as nothing gets out while you’re in his class nothing too bad can happen. You just have to be careful.”  
You thought about it, and she wasn’t exactly wrong. As long as nothing got out while you were his student, nothing too bad could happen. 
“He won’t lose his job if people find out we’re together later on when I’m not his student anymore, right?” 
Mia shrugged. “He doesn’t hold any power over you anymore then so I don’t see why he’d get in any trouble. People might just think it’s weird since he’s older. How old is he anyway? He looks young.” 
“I’m not exactly sure... Somewhere around 30? Late 20s maybe? I should ask him.” 
“Yeah you should. I still have homework I need to do, I should get back to that.” She said before getting herself a glass of water and retreating back to her bedroom. 
~
The next morning you were exhausted. You hadn’t gotten much sleep because of everything that was going through your head. You wanted Baekhyun, and he wanted you, but there was still too much risk involved. But part of you kept thinking about what Mia had said as well. Could a fling really be that bad? 
You were nervous to see him too. You still hadn’t given him an answer to his question, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to dodge it forever. Lying seemed like a decent option, but you knew with how honest and vulnerable Baekhyun always was with you, you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to lie to him. Especially when you did want something more with him, you were just scared. 
As philosophy class drew closer and closer you felt uneasy. You felt bad seeing Baekhyun again without giving him an answer, but you didn’t know how or what to say. You only hoped he wouldn’t press you for it. 
Class went by and you didn’t speak to him. He didn’t keep you after either, which was a relief. You had been hoping he’d at least go over some stuff that would help you on your essay, but you had no such luck, and you needed it done by midnight if you wanted any credit. 
When you got home you cursed yourself for procrastinating so much, but you had other homework too and you knew you’d be able to focus on that better, so you started it first. 
Eventually your mind got sucked into your physics assignment, and you forgot about Baekhyun and the essay, too focused on the task at hand. 
By the time you were done with your other assignments it was 8pm. Four hours until you had to submit your essay. One hour went by just reading and rereading the text you were supposed to write about. Another was wasted on an intro paragraph you kept deleting, because you still couldn’t understand the text. When 10pm hit, and you started to panic.  
You realized that you weren’t going to be able to do it. Your mind was now in freak out mode and you couldn’t concentrate anyway. Either the paper wasn’t getting turned in at all, or you needed to do something fast. In any other class you would’ve BS-ed  your way through it to turn at least something in, but you just couldn’t do that knowing Baekhyun was going to read it. You weren’t going to be able to submit it that night, but you needed to at least contact him and explain so he wouldn’t think you were stupid. 
By 10:30 you found yourself scrolling through your contacts, staring at his name. You’d thought about emailing him, but he probably wouldn’t see until morning and you didn’t have that much time. 
In hindsight you probably would’ve been fine to just send an email and try to get an extension, but the combination of anxiety over your grade and wanting to talk to him had his name in your phone looking better and better. 
So you called. 
Your nerves were on fire as you waited for him to hopefully pick up. Was this stupid? Would he even answer? Worst of all, what if he was disappointed in you for not being able to do the assignment?
After a few rings, he picked up. “Hello?” 
“Hi Baekhyun, it’s y/n.” 
“Y/n? Are you alright what’s going on?” You could hear the concern in his voice even over the phone, and you remembered why he gave you his number in the first place. 
“I- I can’t do the essay.” You felt your voice shake, before unloading all your grievances in one breath “I read the thing a million times and I still have no idea what it’s about and I put it off until tonight cause it was making me so anxious but I still can’t focus and now it’s too late and I don’t know what to do and I’m freaking out.” 
You heard him sigh. “Slow down, It’s okay, I know it’s a difficult assignment. Have you at least started?” 
“No..” You felt tears swelling in your eyes, threatening to spill and you’re sure he can hear it in your voice even over the phone. “Can I just skip this one? I tried to start it so many times but I don’t know how to analyze something I can’t even understand.” You choked out. 
“Y/n...” You could tell he was thinking of what to do. He probably shouldn’t give you special treatment, and you knew that but right now you hoped he would just give in. Unfortunately you had no such luck. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you just not do it. It would make it too obvious that I’m treating you differently than other students.”
“Then can you at least help me? Or give me more time? Please?” You begged.
“I’m still in my office. I can help you if you meet me here.” 
You felt your palms get sweaty and your heart beat faster at the idea of going to his office again after what had happened last time, especially this late at night and in such a fragile state. 
“O-okay. I’ll be there in 10. Bye.” You said, hanging up before he could respond.
Quickly you got on some shoes and drove yourself to the building his office was located in. Last time you’d been in there he’d asked you about your feelings for him, and now you had to go back. You told yourself to just focus on getting the essay done, but the thought still hung around in the back of your mind as you walked down the hall towards Baekhyun’s office. You felt jittery and embarrassed, but you needed to do this for your grade.
After taking a few deep breaths to ready yourself, you knocked on the door, and heard a muffled “Come in” from the other side, so you let yourself in. Baekhyun was sitting at his desk, which was covered in papers you assumed he’d been grading. Instead of the nicer clothes he would usually wear during lecture, he was just wearing a black t shirt and sweats now. 
“You know you scared the shit out of me when you called. I thought you were in danger or something.” He said to you as you sat down in front of him. “I really didn’t think you’d call me over school work.” 
“I’m sorry..” 
“It’s okay! I’m not mad or anything, just surprised. What part of the text are you having trouble with?” 
“All of it...” You felt your lip starting to quiver. “I’m sorry I know this sounds so stupid and you probably think I’m just trying to take advantage of how you like me but I promise it’s not like that.” You said, looking down and fidgeting with your hands, trying to hide the frustration on your face.
Baekhyun crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, smiling. “I never said I thought that. I told you it’s not an easy assignment, it’s ok if you’re having trouble. Plato can be difficult especially for people who aren’t used to reading things that old.” 
“I should’ve at least started earlier...” 
“Probably, but it’s too late to dwell on that now. Let’s just try to go over the reading together, yeah?” You nodded. 
He moved his chair to your side of the desk before opening your textbook to the reading for the essay. 
“So the first thing that makes The Ring of Gyges so confusing is that you don’t really know who’s talking. Basically it’s a conversation between Plato and his brother Glaucon where they’re discussing justice, and it’s actually Glaucon speaking for most of it, not Plato.” 
You were listening to what he was saying of course, but you were still distracted by the proximity. Baekhyun was sitting right next to you now, arms almost touching. The only other time the two of you got that close was at the club. And you did not need to be thinking about that while he was explaining your assignment to you. 
“Are you following me so far?” 
Your eyes immediately shot up from the book to meet his, and you quickly nodded. Having him look you in the eyes again like that made your face feel hot.
“Glaucon argues that people only peruse justice for the benefits of it, and not because they actually want to be good people. He uses the example of a ring that grants it’s user invisibility, therefore allowing them to do unjust things like steal without being caught. He tells Plato a story about a man who finds such a ring and uses it do overthrow the king.”
You groaned. “It still doesn’t make sense though, what does some story about a stupid ring have to do with justice?” 
“Well, if you were given the ability to steal and deceive people for your own benefit, without ever having to worry about getting caught, wouldn’t you do it too?” You stayed silent. “Basically, what you need to understand is what Glaucon is arguing. He’s saying that doing good deeds isn’t a part of human nature, and everyone would behave unjustly if they knew they would never get caught. Therefore, justice is something people pursue not out of want, but out of fear of the consequences if they don’t.”  
All you could do was stare at him. It was infuriating how attractive he sounded while explaining it to you. 
“Do you have a bit of a better idea what to write about now? Remember it’s only two pages, so don’t stress too much.” 
You snapped yourself out of your thoughts. “Yeah, it makes a bit more sense now... do I still need to finish it tonight or?” 
“Friday. Just email it to me by midnight on Friday and I won’t count it late.” He said, smiling again. 
“Thank you for doing this, I’m sorry it was so late and everything.”
Baekhyun just chucked, “You know if it’s you I don’t mind. You could keep me here all night with questions and I wouldn’t stop you. But you understand now, right?” 
The way he was smiling at you now along with the closeness was making you slightly dizzy. 
“I think so, Glaucon is basically saying that injustice is better than justice then right? Because everyone would do unjust things if they’d always get away with it.” 
Baekhyun nodded. 
“So according to him the best way to live life would be to do things you know are wrong, but without being caught.” 
“Exactly. See, I knew you were smart, y/n.” A smirk had made its way onto his face as he spoke. 
You couldn’t help connecting what he was saying to what you were feeling inside towards him. You wanted him, and you knew it was wrong, but how could you deny it to yourself when it felt so right? 
“Baekhyun...” You asked, hesitantly. “D-do you think it’s okay to do things you know are wrong, as long as no one finds out?”
“I think it depends what you’re talking about.” He answered, now looking you in the eyes again with intensity. “I would never kill anyone, for any reason, even if I knew I could get away with it. But, if I really wanted something, I think I would take it.” 
You were hyperaware of how his eyes were now scanning your face, lingering on your lips. “Take what?”
A hand made contact with your thigh, slowly moving up until he stopped, right below the hem of your shorts. His thumb drew soft circles on the sensitive inner flesh, giving you goosebumps. 
“I know you feel it too, you want this, don’t you?” Baekhyun asked, now moving a stand of hair out of your face. He let his hand rest on the back of your neck, keeping you facing towards him. 
Your heart felt like it was about to short circuit from how fast it was beating. Your palms were sweaty and you could feel yourself shaking slightly. The way his thumb stroked your neck beneath your ear made you shiver, and you knew he saw. All you could do was stare back at him, dumbfounded. Any words you tried to get out stuck in your throat. He was right, you did want it. Now more than ever. 
“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right now. I dare you.” He said, running his thumb over your bottom lip, eyes fixed on how it trembled beneath his touch. He was slowly moving your face closer his, but you didn’t stop him. 
Your silence told Baekhyun all he needed to know, and his lips quickly found yours. Immediately you let yourself melt into the kiss. You felt your whole body buzzing, finally getting what it had wanted for so long. His lips felt unbelievably soft against yours, moving in a slow rhythm as his other hand came up from your thigh to cup your face as well. You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, letting it become messier and more desperate. 
“I like you” you pulled away just enough to whisper “so fucking much.” You felt him grin into the kiss as your lips met again. 
He tasted like strawberries, and you felt high as your lips kept crashing together with more and more need. Your whole body felt like it was set on fire and simultaneously dunked in an ice bath, every nerve vibrating with want.    
When Baekhyun pulled your bottom lip gently between his teeth you let out a soft moan, and he started to lose it. He broke the kiss, standing up and pulling with him, before backing you up against the wall, a hand on either side of your head. 
“Sweetheart, don’t push me” He breathed, and started peppering kisses along the side of your neck, from under your ear down to your collarbone, sucking and biting on the way. 
Trapped between him and the wall, you felt weak and breathless. Your brain was in overdrive and you gasped at his ministrations, hands burying themselves in his soft hair.  His hands had traveled down to your waist, holding you against him tightly.
“Baekhyun” You breathed out, rubbing your thighs together as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot. 
“Fuck, y/n. Don’t say that.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth.
His body pressed you into the wall, and your arms wrapped around him pulling him into you even tighter. He was completely consuming your senses and your knees felt wobbly from the intensity of it all. He was already smothering your entire front, but you tried to pull him even closer regardless.
You felt something hard press into your hip as his mouth covered yours again, and this time you shamelessly moaned his name into his open mouth. 
Much to your disappointment, Baekhyun immediately detatched himself from you, backing up until his back hit the opposite wall of the office. You could see how turned on he was by the outline of his dick through his pants and the pained look in his face. 
“Fucking christ...” He said, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. You just watched from the other side of the room. He kept his eyes closed and you observed as his jaw clenched and unclenched before you heard him continue. “You have to go. If you don’t I’m gonna fuck you on my desk and I won’t be gentle.” 
Your throat went dry at his crude words, but you couldn’t deny your own arousal. You walked back towards him, reaching out to touch his chest which was now rising and falling rapidly, but he grabbed you before you could make contact. His grip on your wrist was so tight it was almost painful. His knuckles were white, and you could see a drop of sweat trickle down the side of his face. 
His eyes bore into your own with a stare that warned you not to try anything more. 
“I’m sorry y/n but you have to leave. Not tonight. Not like this.” With his free hand he grabbed your belongings off his desk, shoving them into your arms. 
Still speechless, he opened the door and pulled you outside before going back in and closing the door behind him. You stood and stared at his office door for a minute, recollecting yourself and processing what the hell had just happened. 
Eventually your shaky legs began making their way down the hallway, back towards your car. You were pretty sure a janitor saw you as you turned the corner just down the hall from Baekhyun’s office. You kept your head down, trying to hide your face best you could while hurrying past. 
Once you were sitting in your car, you slumped into the seat, mind still in a daze after what happened in Baekhyun’s office. You waited for your breathing and heartrate to slow down before you drove away. 
Baekhyun left shorty after you as well, unable to concentrate on anything but the sound of you moaning his name. He felt terrible for throwing you out of his office but he’d meant what he said. He didn’t want his first time to have you to be in his office, purely fueled by pent up lust. He wanted to give you more than that. 
More than anything, he just couldn’t believe he’d gotten what he’d wanted for the entire summer. It didn’t seem possible, but now it had happened. And you actually kissed him back. It felt too good to be true. He felt himself once again struggling to sleep, but this time because he was too excited. This time, he didn’t have to keep himself up wondering, he knew he had you. He just couldn’t wait to see what would happed now.
You on the other hand couldn’t stop worrying about that exact thing as you stared at the ceiling above your bed. What would happen now? The thoughts weren’t fearful anymore, there was just too many of them to shut your mind down enough to sleep. 
You’d finally allowed yourself to give into him, and there was no more turning back. 
Next Chapter
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frankthesnek · 3 years
Note
#26 "things you said in writing" kind of speaks to me today if it inspires you?
Oh writing?? This is an interesting one 🤔
So, for the record I have not read what all the prompts on the list are. I glanced at them briefly but wanted them to be a suprise so I couldn't plan ahead for them. Seems like they're apparently a very mixed bag!
Thanks for the prompt 💜
26: Things you said in writing
Rodney rubbed his eyes and sighed in annoyance. He hated his new staff at Area 51. Hated the lab space they had given him. Hated that he wasn't in Atlantis with John at his side.
Opening his door he reached down and picked up the mail that had been dropped through the door slot. Junk, junk, more junk…. A hand addressed envelope with handwriting he recognized instantly. 
John? What would John send him in the mail?
Tossing the annoying  junk mail in the trash he sat on the couch and carefully opened the letter. It wasn't fancy, just the simple yellow paper from a standard office notepad. Written out in plain black ink, and John's sloppy annoyingly all capital letter handwriting. 
     "Dear Rodney,
Things at SGC are not how I had expected them to be. Not that I had many expectations because I never thought I'd be working here. I keep trying to get my team switched but it's taking forever. Guess I forgot how much sway and power I had as CO in Atlantis."
Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes. Crossing his legs at the knee, he settled back more comfortably into the couch.
     "The people on my team are fine, nice enough but they're not you guys. I miss Teyla and Ronon. Think about them a lot. What do you think their lives went back to? How much damage has been done without us there to help? I try not to think about that last bit. It keeps me up at night if I do…
You'll probably use this against me at some point, but I miss you the most. I bet you've got a real smug look on your face right now!"
Rodney chuckled and schooled his face out of the smug expression John had predicted. The other man knew him too well.
     "I miss having you around. No one here gets me like you do. I make nerd jokes and they look at me like I'm an idiot (except for this one scientist. Can't remember his name, balding, thinks he's real funny? Ring any bells?). Anyway, it's weird. I don't like not having you around. I miss other stuff too.
I miss waking up next to you. I miss the way you snore (don't deny it!). I miss showering with you in the mornings. I miss how you touch me… before we got together it had been a long time since anyone had touched me like you do. I didn't miss it back then, guess I'd gotten used to it. But now, well I can't wait to see you again."
Rodney took a deep breath and looked away from the letter for a moment. He missed all those things too--sans snoring, and yes he would deny it, because he didn’t snore. Smiling Rodney reread the last few lines again. Okay, maybe he snored a little.
     "I keep hoping they will call us back in. That the Ancients will realize we were doing good there and invite us back. I don't know though, it's starting to feel more like just a pipe dream."
"Feel you on that one buddy," Rodney muttered, frowning at the paper.
     "The return address on the envelope is for my new apartment out here. It's nothing fancy, just a one bedroom studio. I don't really like it that much. It's too dark, not enough windows. I guess Atlantis spoiled me for that. I think I would probably like the apartment better if you were here with me. Then it might feel more like home. 
From,
Sincerely, 
Love, John"
Shaking his head and smiling, Rodney dropped the letter onto the coffee table. He talked to John regarly on the phone and didn't understand why the other man had written to him. If he felt like writing instead of talking, email was--in Rodney's opinion--far superior to the archaic snail mail system of the postal service.
Taking the landline from the end table Rodney started to dial. Just as he was about to hit the 'call' button the letter caught his eye again. It had landed face down on the table, and there was writing on the back. 
     "PS. I know you're probably wondering right about now why I wrote to you using the 'archaic snail mail system of the postal service' (isn't that what you call it?). On deployments I saw guys writing letters for the people they loved back home. I never had anyone to send a letter to. Now I do. Thought I'd give it a shot."
Rodney's smile softened and he replaced the phone in its cradle. Moving to his desk, he sat down and pulled out a notebook.
     "Dear John, 
First of all, you realize you have a horribly ironc name for this kind of thing, right?......
Interested in a drabble? See my pinned post ☺
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kaistarus · 3 years
Text
Just A Line Without A Hook
Tumblr media
Pairing: Hinata X Reader
Words: 5.9K
Summary: You and Hinata share your point-of-views during important milestones throughout your relationship.
A/N: This is a full relationship development and I’m very proud lol hopefully you can find some joy in it :3
Masterlist // Ko-Fi
Hinata was weird.
That lurked in your mind as you leaned on a conspicuously sticky bar table listening to him tell you his entire life’s story. Your original intent for the night had been to quickly pop into Yachi’s birthday party since you worked at the butt crack of dawn. Give her the present and maybe have a drink. Whatever you did it was meant to be fast.
Too bad you had never been good at sticking to plans.
“I moved to Brazil right after high school to learn beach volleyball,” Hinata said, his smile soft as he looked longingly in the distance. “But I didn’t explore as much as I should have. I really want to go back.”
“Out of high school?” You cocked your head to the side, “that’s wild. I moved to Tokyo and still felt completely out of place.”
“Well, it didn’t go too hot at first.” He scratched his cheek. “I actually got my wallet stolen my first week there…”
You fought to keep lips from pulling into a smile.
There was something in the carefree way he carried himself that made it hard to turn away. The moment Yachi introduced you there was an odd sense of comfort that washed over you. Which made no sense because you had known absolutely nothing about the guy-aside from him being a professional volleyball player and attending high school with Yachi.
Still, it was no reason to let your guard down.
“Sounds like they took advantage of the clueless foreigner,” you teased, curious butterflies tickling your abdomen when he pouted. “I’ve always thought Italy looked cool. If I could travel somewhere.”
Hinata’s lips mindlessly curved into a relaxed smile as you spoke, as if that was their default expression when not preoccupied. And it made conversation with him easy. It dissipated your usual anxieties about overthinking every action or word. You truly felt like you could be yourself and just exist within his presence.
“I have a friend in Italy!” Hinata said, elation lighting up his amber eyes. He began drawing circles in the condensation of his glass with an awkward laugh. “I think anyway. He travels all over the place, but he was in Italy last I knew.”
“That’s so cool,” your jaw went a little slack. You didn’t know people actually did stuff like that.
“Yeah Noya’s the best,” Hinata nodded resolutely. “He visited me for a while in Brazil. I taught him some Portugese and we played beach volleyball. He was so jealous everyone called me Ninja Shoyo. It was awesome.”
Hinata could speak Portugese? Ninja Shoyo?
So many questions…
“What’s a Ninja Sho-” You began until your phone lit up after receiving a message and you realized just how late it was. “Oh my god, I have to go.”
“Wait,” Hinata interrupted you mid-frantic scrabble to zip your jacket. You furrowed your brow at the smartphone he placed unlocked on the table between you. “Could I-uh-you know… talk to you again sometime?”
You blinked a few times before swiping the device off the bar’s gross table. “Yeah,” you said, a warmth you didn’t recognize filling your chest as you created your contact. “I’d like that.”
An absentminded smile painted Hinata’s face after you waved good-bye and when you stepped outside beneath the light snowfall you realized your lips were curved to match. But there was still too wide a gap between how little you knew about Hinata and how much you desired to be close to him. That new part of you burned too bright in your chest to be ignored.
And you would simply have to change that.
*******************************************************************************************
Hinata huddled in the corner of the gymnasium over his duffle bag, staring at his cellphone in case he received a last second message. His eyes flickered between the ticking clock above the bleachers and his phone’s black screen, stomach sinking as the seconds passed. He anxiously unlocked his phone to scroll through and analyze his last conversation.
Had he said something wrong? He supposed he’d never actively tried to flirt before, so it wasn’t unlikely he offended you somehow. He furrowed his brow and chewed on his thumbnail, rereading his last message. Maybe he overdid it with the emojis?
Wait, were you at work? You could also just be busy. Maybe he was just overthinking everything…
“Why are you crouched in the corner like a creep?” Atsumu crept up behind him, eyeing him suspiciously.
Hinata jumped, shoving his phone back into his duffle bag. “Nothing.”
“Bull shit. You’ve been acting off for weeks,” Atsumu squatted to Hinata’s eye-level and leaned forward with a sly grin. “Someone’s keeping secrets.”
A warmth rushed to Hinata’s face. He was a terrible liar if questioned directly. “I wouldn’t keep secrets from you guys. I mean, we’re practically family now.” he chuckled unconvincingly.
“Right,” Atsumu gave him a once-over before standing. Hinata let out a relieved sigh that he’d been spared for now.
“What’s happening over here?” Bakuto boisterously called out while skipping over to the boys. Sakusa trailed behind him with his hands shoved deep into his sweatpant’s pockets.
“Hinata’s lying out his ass.”
Hinata whipped around toward Atsumu with his jaw slack. The audacity of this guy. “I am not!”
“The guy’s zoning out at practice, making heart eyes at his phone, and fucking notre daming over his duffle?” Atsume raised his brows at Hinata. “Either he’s getting scouted for a different team or he’s dating someone.”
“You’re leaving the team?” Sakusa asked monotone, as if he couldn’t care either way. If Hinata wasn’t used to the constant monotone he’d be offended.
“No,” he denied, qualming Bokuto’s prepared puppy-dog eyes. “And I’m not dating anyone.”
Which wasn’t a lie. You were nothing more than a friend at this point. Even if his heart ignited a flame anytime your name crossed his mind.
“A crush then,” Atsumu waved him off. “Either way a massive Hinata life development you lied to us about.”
“I didn’t lie, I just,” Hinata wrinkled his nose while thinking of ways out of the predicament. “I think Shugo is calling to start practice. We should probably-”
“You’ve got a crush?” Bokuto’s eyes appeared to sparkle when he flung an arm around Hinata’s shoulder. “Who is it? Do we know them? You don’t need to sweat Hinata I’m an excellent wingman.”
Hinata waved his hands in front of him. “You don’t know them and it’s okay. You really don’t have to-”
“Oh, don’t be so considerate. We’re offering our services Hinata.” Atsumu said smugly while Bokuto nodded excitedly.
Hinata forced a half-smile. This had been exactly what he wanted to avoid. If his feelings were just a measly crush he would have gladly brought them up to the guys, but they were way more extreme then that.
“I’m not offering anything,” Sakusa raised his brows slightly in Hinata’s direction before walking off. “Good luck.”
“Buzz kill.” Atsumu pouted.
“Look, this is more complicated than you guys realize,” Hinata brushed Bokuto’s arm off his shoulders. “I can’t really explain it, but I don’t think you guys can help me.”
“Hinata, it’s okay. We all have our faults. Some more than others, but we’re here for you.” Atsumu patted his shoulder understandably and Hinata shot him a glare.
“Akaashi always tells me to ‘just be yourself’.” Bokuto nodded proudly, clasping his fist with determination. “Then you’ll attract the people who are meant to be in your life.”
Hinata blinked a few times. That… was really good advice.
“That’s stupid,” Atsumu scoffed. “You gotta stalk them on all social media. Analyze their personality and figure out exactly what they're into. Learn their ins and outs and become their type.”
That… was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.
“I don’t know Atsumu, that sounds kind of wrong,” Bokuto tapped his chin and Atsumu pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed deeply.
“Okay, but numbers don’t lie and I have the highest success rate.”
Bokuto and Hinata tilted their heads mulling that one over. No. It still seemed dumb.
Hinata zoned off as Bokuto and Atsumu began debating the morals of online stalking and the value of Akaashi’s opinions. He already knew that if he wanted real help picking apart the fire in his chest he’d have to talk to someone who’d take him seriously like Yamaguchi. Then he’d actually get to dissect the confusing emotions in his heart-look at them from all angles.
Learn to understand them and tend to them properly. Help them grow.
He watched Atsumu chase a cackling Bokuto around the gym until their captain Shugo scolded them. Hinata smirked. Even if they weren’t the most helpful he still appreciated knowing he had people willing to help him... in their own way.
*******************************************************************************************
You and Hinata spent the majority of your free time together, but even after several months it was nothing more than two friends placing comfort in each other’s company. Most Thursdays it was normal to find Hinata lounging on your living room sofa. He watched some volleyball commentary video on his cellphone, legs propped lazily on the armrest, while you answered work emails at your coffee table.
On a normal Thursday night you would continue whatever show you’d been watching-currently Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood-but tonight you were stuck finishing last minute work. You heaved a sigh and glanced over your shoulder at Hinata, his breathing relaxed while his eyes flickered across his phone’s screen.
You weren’t oblivious to your feelings. Maybe at first you were able to brush them off as excitement about a new friend, but they had shifted into something intense. Always festering in the forefront of your mind throughout your daily routine.
It became obvious when you noticed you spent more time counting the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose than focusing on conversations. When you realized you spent more time at work trying to pin-point the exact shade to call his hair than getting actual work done. Even more so when your heart would do acrobatics at the sound of his voice whenever you talked on the phone.
No matter how you looked at it, it became impossible to deny.
“Hey, are you okay?”
You looked back again and Hinata’s eyebrows were furrowed with concern, his earbuds pulled out and phone placed on his stomach. 
“Yeah,” you half-smiled and he raised his brows to show he clearly didn’t believe you. You let out a breathy laugh, breaking the eye-contact to lean back against the couch and place your head on his bicep. “I’m just thinking.”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” he teased, a hand gently placed on the crown of your head.
“Shut up,” you said with no bite behind your words.
He snorted, rubbing his thumb against the top of your head. “...what if I was also thinking?”
“That’s probably more dangerous than me thinking,” you laughed, rubbing your socked toes together with a soft smile. When he didn’t respond you twisted around to check on him, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “Hinata?”
“Nevermind.”
You gripped the couch cushion for support as you leaned in slightly. There was no way for you to be sure, but you could have sworn Hinata was blushing.
“What were you thinking about?” You questioned. Your heart was beating a million times a second in your chest and there was something akin to hope burning beside it.
Hinata looked in your eyes challengingly, “what were you thinking about?”
“You.”
He seemed taken aback by your bluntness, but brushed it off quickly. “I want to kiss you.”
Your eyes widened. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room as you stared into his hopeful amber eyes.
“Well, do it then.” You responded, barely above a whisper. Hinata took a while to process, but once he had his face lit up crimson.
His hand cradled the side of your face and you watched him carefully, allowing him to make the moves. You kept your mind blank so as not to overthink the situation, but you hoped at least one brain cell was functioning enough to get you through it.
The kiss Hinata pressed against your lips was a little too hesitant, too off-center, and too brief. Yet the beaming smile he gave you afterward sent your heart into a frenzy unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The dopey smile on your lips felt too embarrassing and you buried your face against Hinata’s chest.
After a little coaxing with promises of television and snacks you peeked back up, happily met with Hinata’s dazed smile. The rest of the night was spent wrapped in each other’s arms and supplying random kisses because ‘they definitely needed practice’; ending with Hinata falling asleep in your bed for the first, but definitely not last, time.
*******************************************************************************************
Hinata hated being sick.
He hated fighting through a thick fog to collect words when stringing together sentences was usually effortless. He hated the pounding headaches following any light reaching his unfocused eyes. And Hinata especially hated his fit lungs struggling through breaths that came out raspy and weak through his aching throat.
Nothing good came from being sick. It was a lesson he learned long ago.
“You need to sleep,” you whispered against the crown of his head, your fingers carding gently through his sweaty locks. He nuzzled the tip of his nose against the cool skin at your collarbone while gripping your shirt at your shoulder.
Unfortunately, you were making it really hard for him to hate anything anymore.
“You’re going to get sick,” he pointed out, voice scratchy from his throat’s soreness.
You hummed dismissively, planting a small kiss on the top of his head. “My immune system’s pretty strong.”
Hinata knew it didn’t work that way, but was too selfish to argue your flawed logic. The bare skin of your neck helped chill his overheated forehead and he cuddled ever closer into you, twining your legs together. He wrinkled his nose when he realized how gross his fever was probably making him.
He’d have to wash your sheets and stuff when he was feeling better.
“I wish I could kiss you,” he pouted.
“That one’s gonna have to wait,” you chuckled lightly, beginning to rub soothing circles into his lower back. The vibrations from your voice sent a pleasant shiver down Hinata’s spine and the corners of his lips lifted. “You know, you’ll get better faster if you sleep.”
“But I wanna stay awake with you,” Hinata whined, lazily beginning to trace designs on your shoulder. The world was so cruel.
“I’ll be here when you wake up,” you said, barely above a whisper. Hinata grumbled a nonsense of a response and you chuckled lightly. You fell silent for a long enough period that Hinata began believing you fell asleep before him until you asked, “can I tell you a secret?”
“Yeah,” Hinata yawned, snuggling against your chest. “I love secrets.”
Silence enveloped his apartment again and Hinata almost dozed off.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
He blinked himself back to consciousness while the words rolled over in his mind. He froze. The fast paced rhythm of your heart was the only source available to keep him grounded as his foggy brain worked to unpack your words.
Love?
He glanced up to meet your nervous eyes paired with flushed cheeks. He stared in disbelief while you continued to patiently wait for his reaction. This better not be some sort of fever induced hallucination.
“No one’s ever said that to me before,” he said, eyebrows creased. Aside from his mom and Natsu, obviously, but he figured you’d know what he meant.
The corner of your mouth lifted into a hopeful half-smile. “Well, I’m honored.” Your touch was gentle as you brushed the hair back from his forehead. He subconsciously leaned into your touch with a wondrous stare and his eyes scoured your face for his answer.
Except you were the answer.
“I’ve never been in love before, but…” He struggled for the right words-any words-settling on what he could piece together at the moment. “I feel like things are better when you’re here. Like, I can do anything I hope to and more. I just feel happier when I’m with you and it’s easier and everything makes sense…” He wrinkled his nose. “Is… is that love?”
You cradled his fevered cheeks tenderly. “I think that’s for you to decide Hinata.”
He nodded to himself. “Okay,” he said determinedly. “Then yeah. It is, I love you, (Y/N).”
“I’m glad,” you smiled, looking at him with an affectionate stare that set his heart ablaze. He took a deep breath before disappointedly letting his forehead drop to your chest.
“Fuck, I want to kiss you so bad.”
You let out a bubble of laughter, rubbing your thumbs tenderly against his cheeks. “We’ll make up for it plenty when you’re feeling better.”
He tried to hold back a smirk, but failed. “Fine.”
“Now go to sleep,” You ordered, planting a quick peck to the top of his head.
He grumbled half-assed as he situated himself more comfortably, but Hinata was all talk at this point. His eyelids were heavy with sleep and his heart hummed with contentment. He was in love. A smile dusted his lips as he began drifting off.
Maybe being sick wasn’t so bad after all.
*******************************************************************************************
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at your boyfriend across the couch chowing down on take-out sushi. Hinata’s eyes were glued to the television’s screen, his hand alternating between shoveling food into his mouth and rubbing mindless circles on your shin across his lap. Things were comfortable, easy, perfect some might even say.
Too perfect.
“Why aren’t we fighting?”
Hinata turned, cheeks stuffed with food and eyebrows raised with surprise. Under normal circumstances you’d consider it adorable, but you wanted to be serious.
He swallowed with a wince before raising an eyebrow. “Did something happen?”
“No, but we’ve been dating for a while and we haven’t had the big fight.”
“We fight all the time,” he placed his plate on the coffee table with a roll of his eyes. You huffed because he clearly wasn’t on the same page. “Just yesterday I was pissed because you left an empty container of milk in my fridge.”
“It wasn’t empty.”
“There was a dribble. That’s not enough for-” He put up a hand and took a breath. “Not the point. Point is: we fought right?”
“That was hardly a discussion.” You waved him off. He had angrily brought it up, you kissed him sorry, and he forgave you. Hinata didn’t know how to hold a grudge and all you had to do was buy him more milk.
“Okay, a few weeks ago then. You fell in the toilet because I forgot to put the seat down.” He nodded confidently. “You woke me up in the middle of the night for that one.”
You shuddered at the memory of being shocked into full consciousness by falling into a pool of your own piss. In your shocked state you may have chosen violence and decided to pick a fight with Hinata at three in the morning, but it was well deserved.
“Okay, but that’s not what I mean.”
“Are you sure?” He raised a brow. “Waking up with my girlfriend on top of me and slowly realizing she’s threatening to end my bloodline kind of feels like a fight.”
“Okay, that’s-” You pinched the bridge of your nose and ignored his amused smirk. “I’m talking about relationship ruining fights.”
He tilted his head, clearly not following you.
“Like, you insult me using some secret I’ve only divulged to you and I leave crying with no self-esteem.” You explained with exaggerated hand gestures and his nose wrinkled. “Or I walk in on you having an explicit affair with Kageyama, or maybe you get drunk and I over hear you talking with-”
He put both his hands up, “back it up. What the hell was that last one?”
“An explicit affair?” You blinked a few times and cocked your head to the side. “With… Kageyama?”
“Yeah that’s what I-we’re gonna unpack that later.” He palmed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Anyway, why would any of this happen?”
“Because that’s what always happens.” You answered honestly. Maybe you sounded like a pessimist, but that was just the reality of the world. At least, you had never seen it work any other way. “So just… tell me how it’s going to happen.”
Hinata looked crestfallen at your statement and the dejected look in his eyes made your heart sink to your stomach. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to question your sanity, but was taken back when he crawled forward to rest his head on your chest.
“If I ever hurt you like that,” he mouthed against your collarbone. “I would never forgive myself.”
Your heart raced and you brought a hand to card through his unruly locks, nodding to acknowledge his words.
“Don’t overthink,” he said, kissing your neck softly. “If we’re good then we’re good. Maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be.”
Your lips curved into a small smile and you nodded again. You let yourselves just exist with him for a while. Heart’s beating in unison while you twirled tufts of autumn through your fingers. His lips dusting across your neck as he whispered loving affirmations against you. And maybe he was right.
Maybe it was just meant to be.
*******************************************************************************************
Hinata moved expertly around his kitchen preparing breakfast, sneaking glancing at you perched drowsily beside the stove adorning one of his larger shirts. Obviously it wasn’t the first time he’d seen you like that-hair mussed, eyes heavy with sleep, in only his clothes-but it still warmed his heart when you existed so casually in space. Like you belonged there.
His lips curved into a smile as he cracked several eggs into a heated frying pan. The dull thudding of your heels hitting a cupboard mixed with the sizzling on the pan for the background of your comfortable silence. Even without conversation his life felt brighter in your presence and he was thankful his apartment was such a convenient location for the both of you.
You yawned deeply, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and finally focusing on him. Hinata selfishly wished you could be with him more often. The days he woke up without you were the coldest.
“What are you staring at?” You slurred with another yawn.
Hinata shot you a lopsided grin, “my beautiful girlfriend.”
You side-eyed him with an amused smirk, “kiss ass.”
Hinata slid the eggs onto a couple plates before going to stand in front of you. You raised a curious brow, but weren’t given enough time to voice a question before he pressed his lips to yours. His mouth curved into a smile against yours-another reason he loved you being here so often was it meant more of this.
Your hands cradled his face as he appreciated that you still tasted like mint from his borrowed toothpaste this morning. Another subtle way he’d nudged himself into your life he realized, toying with the bottom of his shirt you were wearing.
“What’s this for?” You asked, sliding your hands over his shoulders and hooking them behind his neck.
“I just love you,” he replied earnestly. Your fingers laid a scorching touch as they teased the baby hairs on his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. Hinata took his time with languid kisses-he could kiss you a million times and the hunger for more would always linger.
Your breaths were heavy when you pulled back to place your forehead against his, eyeing him with pure affection that set his heart ablaze. “I love you too, Shoyo.”
He trailed his knuckles down your cheek and relished in the way you leaned into his touch. How had he gotten this luck? Hinata placed a tender kiss on your forehead, temple, cheekbone, tip of your nose, and finally on your lips.
“You should move in.”
Hinata’s eyes widened in shock at his own question because that had been the last thing he’d planned on doing this morning. Well, the suggestion was out there and it’s not like he wanted to take it back...
You blinked several times as you processed. “With you?”
“Ideally.”
You furrowed your brow while mulling it over and Hinata counted his heartbeats to stay grounded. Worst case scenario you say no and things are awkward for a bit. Best case scenario he takes a large step forward with the love of his life.
Oh god, he should’ve planned this better.
“Okay.”
“I understand,” Hinata sighed. “It was totally random and I shouldn’t have expected-did you say yes?”
“Yeah,” your cheeks flushed and you bit your bottom lip to fight down a smile. “I mean, I’m here most of the time anyway, right?”
Hinata nodded mindlessly before a face splitting grin covered his features and he scooped you off the corner. You squealed while he spun you around with a bright laugh, interrupting any of your comments with a passionate kiss. While you were busy tangling your fingers into his unruly hair he glanced toward his bedroom’s door.
There was probably enough time to celebrate.
*******************************************************************************************
“She’s beautiful,” you said in awe, cradling the swaddled newborn in your arms. She was sleeping soundly, tiny breaths leaving her partly open mouth. The baby looked too fragile for this world, features too small and delicate to be realistic.
She was amazing.
“Well, she’s our daughter,” Tanaka’s chest puffed up proudly. He sat beside Shimizu on her hospital bed with an arm hung loosely around her. “Obviously she’s going to be perfect.”
You wouldn’t fight his dramatics; he deserved to be happy today.
“What’s her name?” Hinata breathed. Seated beside you he leaned heavily against your side to observe the baby.
“Sayori,” Shimizu yawned. She and Tanaka had deep bruises under their eyes, and you smirked knowingly down at the sleeping demon in disguise.
Hinata hesitantly moved his hand toward Sayori before planting it back on his lap. You raised a brow, reaching over with the hand not helping cradle Sayori’s head and grabbed his forefinger. Hinata looked at you panicked, but relaxed as you guided him toward Sayori’s small fist that pressed gently against her pink cheeks.
When she instinctively wrapped her fingers around his forefinger his eyes widened and he whipped his gaze to you. “She grabbed my finger,” he whispered.
“They do that,” you smirked, a frenzy of butterflies attacking your stomach as he stared at Sayori wondrously.
“That’s amazing.”
“Okay, stop using my kid as a way to feed your baby fever.” Tanaka huffed. Shimizu elbowed him in the stomach and a warmth trickled up your face when his words hit you.
“What’s a baby fever?” Hinata asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Is it dangerous?”
“No,” you stumbled over a reply that wouldn’t make the situation incredibly awkward. “It’s when you, uh, want kids.”
“Oh,” Hinata shrugged, bouncing his finger to play with Sayori’s hand. “What’s wrong with eventually wanting kids?”
“That’s not-”
“No, it means you want a kid now.” Tanaka emphasized by smacking the hospital bed. “Like, go home immediately and make a baby level now.”
Hinata blinked a few times before his face lit up red, “oh.”
You nodded awkwardly and both of you remained quiet while Shimizu chastised Tanaka in the background. One of you should probably deny the baby fever thing… right? You glanced over to Hinata, but his eyebrows were furrowed as he stared intently at Sayori.
“Okay, Sayori needs to eat soon, so I’m kicking Hinata out.” Tanaka announced.
Hinata didn’t put up any fights and you passed Sayori back to Shimizu, making plans to see each other again soon. You offered your services for future babysitting with Hinata’s vigorous agreeing behind you and they were more than grateful for it. Regardless Tanaka shooed you out when Sayori began wriggling in Shimizu’s arms.
As you and Hinata made your way to the metro that would bring you to your apartment complex the air between you was heavy. An obvious awkwardness that was harder to ignore the longer you walked together.
“I’m not surprised their baby ended up looking so cute,” you laughed, filling the space with nervous chatter. “Shimizu is really pretty.”
He nodded, looking up at the cloudless sky thoughtfully. “Do you think our baby would be cute?”
Your heart rate quickened at the idea. It wasn’t like you’d never thought of it, but talking about it outloud was a completely different monster. “I think it would have pretty great genes.”
He nodded, furrowing his brow at the sidewalk ahead.
Hinata wasn’t an idiot. Neither of you were ready for something like that. Several nights ago you’d decided to get drunk and attempt making meat buns-you’d nearly set the kitchen on fire. That doesn’t scream parent material.
On a larger scale, Hinata had just been selected for Japan’s Olympic team. There just wasn’t time for something like that. No, a baby wasn’t realistic.
However...
“What’s our apartment’s pet policy?”
He turned to you with a raised brow, “probably an extra fee and a weight limit. Why?”
You smirked mischievously at him, “want to get a dog?”
His jaw dropped. “Oh my fu-can I name it?”
“Only if I get to pick the breed.”
“Well then, what are you waiting for?” Hinata grasped your hand and yanked you toward the closest metro station. “Look up the closest pet store and let’s go!”
You chuckled, allowing him to pull you toward a random station that probably wouldn’t lead you where you needed. It would work out in the end. Things always seemed to fall perfectly into place with HInata.
*******************************************************************************************
Hinata glared across the roll of wrapping paper at the small puppy crushing the end of the tube, tearing edges of red and white striped paper with its sharp teeth. Hinata tugged it out of the pup’s mouth, but that only encouraged the behavior as it leapt forward to chew with more vigor.
“Can you grab your son?” Hinata waved the roll around, letting the Shiba Inu chase the end that Hinata held just out of reach. “He’s making this more difficult than it needs to be.”
You paused your typing at the dining table and giggled at Hinata’s antics. After closing the laptop you jogged over to scoop the puppy up, flipping him over in your arms to rub its belly. The puppy let its tongue hang out and wagged its tail vigorously at the attention.
“Oh, Deku, are you giving your dad a hard time,” you cooed down at the puppy, lifting him to look him in the eyes with a furrowed brow. “That’s not very nice.”
Hinata rolled his eyes fondly at your pathetic attempt of scolding while Deku licked you on the nose. Just several months old and he already knew how to manipulate people with his cuteness.
“I bought our bullet train tickets,” you said while nudging him the roll of tape he’d started looking around for. “Natsu called me earlier. We decided that you and I should get there around 3.”
Hinata tore a piece of tape off with his teeth while he held the wrapping paper still around the boxed pair of rollerskates with his foot.
“We have to stop by Tanaka’s place before we head out,” Hinata wrinkled his nose at his poor wrapping job. “Noya’s visiting for a while and he wants to meet Deku.”
“Of course,” you smiled as you held a chew toy above Deku’s face so he could nibble on it in your lap. “We have some presents for Sayori, anyway.”
Oh yeah. You had split the present wrapping in terms of difficulty, so you had the pleasure of wrapping weirdly shaped toys while he was left with boxes. Somehow, his still turned out to be a disaster.
He could hear Natsu’s complaints already.
“The train doesn’t leave till one, so we should have plenty of time.” You stated once Hinata taped the final present, completing his small present tower. Deku wriggled himself free from your grip and immediately attacked the empty wrapping paper roll.
Hinata smiled absentmindedly as he watched Deku hold the tube still with his small paws as he gnawed the cardboard. He felt you crawl over, lying your head onto his lap as your eyes followed his to watch your dog-son together. He felt at peace, running his fingers through your hair while Deku wreaked mischief nearby.
He felt like he could never get happier than this, and he never wanted it to end.
“He really is a troublemaker,” you snorted as Deku dragged the tube across the living room proudly. “Gets it from you.”
Hinata rolled his eyes and pinched your cheek. “It’s because you let him do whatever he wants.”
“Do not!”
He chuckled, taking his time tracing your features. The curve of your cheekbones, the dip of your lips, the bridge of your nose-everything he’d kissed into his memory by now but still couldn’t get enough of.
Hinata’s heart burned bright as he ran his knuckles along your cheek, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You smiled softly, leaning subconsciously into his touch.
“I mean… I really love you, (Y/N).” Hinata grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. “I think this is it.”
You met his stare for several moments before your cheeks reddened. “Oh.”
Hinata nodded, pressing a loving kiss to the back of your hand. “I just-I always want you with me and if it’s not you in the end then… then what’s the point?”
Your mouth fell slightly open and he felt your hand flex in his grasp. He assumed he made a mistake-said too much too fast-but his chest was so warm and full and it was hard to reign in his emotions when he got that way.
A smile blossomed across your face and it eased his anxieties when you held his cheek. “You’re it for me too, Sho.”
He blinked several times as the words rolled over in his mind. “Wha-really?” He twisted himself so he could look you in the eyes, begging for you to be telling the truth.
You nodded shyly, your face crimson. “Yeah. You have been. I’m not… I don’t think I’d be able to love anyone else ever again.”
It felt like he’d been hit by a train at your confession and he pressed his mouth against yours before he’d even processed the statement. Your content hum against his lips was enough to drive him insane.
“Well, I’m going to love you forever.” Hinata promised with a dopey smile. “So don’t even think about that.”
You snorted, but nodded anyway. Hinata glanced down at your lips again with hooded eyes and started leaning forward, but was rudely interrupted by a damp cardboard tube hitting his forehead.
He glanced up exhaustedly at the Shiba Inu puppy panting obliviously at the both of you, waiting patiently for the love and attention he knew he deserved. You pushed Hinata off to grab Deku, but he jumped into a play bow and jolted back when you reached for him.
Hinata smiled dazedly as you chased Deku around the apartment, juking around furniture to attempt to throw the puppy off-course. He had never felt so complete than he had in that moment because he realized that this was it for him.
It was you. It was him. It was a troublemaker dog. And it was a promise that you’d be together forever.
And that was pretty damn perfect.
296 notes · View notes
averykedavra · 3 years
Note
If you’re feeling up for it could you please do 3. “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.” With Roman and Janus. Thank you!!
(Wow, you all really like roceit, huh? This is my sole prompt for today as I caught up on homework instead, but I’ll be back tomorrow, if canon doesn’t break me)
Words: 3981
“Okay,” Janus said. “What’s wrong?”
“What?” Roman flinched and pulled at his apron. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Hold on a second,” Janus told the customer in front of him, who opened their mouth to ask a question. Janus made a zip it gesture before pushing off the counter and dragging Roman into the storage closet. The door automatically closed, and Janus kicked the wedge into the gap before it slammed.
Hidden among racks of coffee beans, Roman seemed to relax. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward to kiss Janus quickly on the lips.
“You okay?” Roman asked when he pulled away. “You look stressed.”
“Of course I am, I’m on barista duty.” Janus glanced at the door. He could hear the customers babbling, but if this was an emergency, they would survive without a dead-eyed barista to hand them coffee. “What’s wrong?”
“What, do I need an excuse to see my boyfriend?” Roman placed a hand on his chest in mock hurt. “I love you!”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Janus said, though he allowed himself to preen at the affection. “You’re harried and there’s coffee all over your apron. And you’re supposed to be lifting boxes. What happened?”
Roman sighed and deflated like an old balloon. “The shadow demons are holding the place hostage again.”
“Again?” Janus groaned. “What is that, three times this month?”
“Yep.” Roman popped the p.
Janus sighed and glanced at his feet. “What do they want this time?”
“Dunno, but I can assume the usual.” Roman waved a hand. “Annihilation and destruction and blood to drench the floors, et cetera et cetera.”
“Great. This shift was too quiet.” Janus untied his ponytail and retied it, pulling all the strands taut. “Any casualties so far?”
“The coffee machine stopped working again.”
“Those bastards.”
“I’ve been telling you to get an exorcist,” Roman said. “Honey, this is just going to keep happening.”
“Am I in charge? No! Ask Patton, whenever he actually shows up.” Janus rolled his eyes. “Besides, exorcists are scam artists and religious nuts.”
“We have demons,” Roman pointed out. “You can believe in shadow demons, but not in exorcists?”
Janus rolled his eyes again. “That’d be a large chunk of the budget. If it matters to you so much, ask Patton.”
Roman huffed. “I’d much rather talk to you! Because I like you!”
“Sap.” Janus glanced at the door again. “We’d better hurry. What’s the details of this one?”
“Runes on the basement wall. Can’t decipher them. Virgil’s guarding the door to make sure nothing escapes.”
“Runes. Should be easy.” Janus wiped his hands on his apron and wished he’d made himself a shot of espresso. Saving the coffee shop was always easier while buzzed on caffeine. “Lead the way, darling.”
“Gladly!” Roman grabbed his hand, kissed it, and pulled Janus out of the storage room. They passed a clamoring crowd of customers, and Janus soaked in the final glimpse of sunlight. It was a busy day. All the more reason to solve this problem before it threatened any customers--they didn’t need another one-star Yelp review.
Of course, they could just move. Or, probably more reasonably, burn the cursed place to the ground and stab the ashes. No good could come from a shop so deeply filled with shadow demons. But Patton insisted--through email, the few times he actually responded--that the place had value to the community. Janus doubted that, but he wasn’t paid enough to object.
Capitalism. The only reason he took this job. It had seemed too good to be true that they were hiring without any previous experience. And, as Janus feared, it was.
Still, perhaps it would be good for his resume. Worked as manager-by-default at Spirit Cafe. Practiced at taking orders from no one, fighting shadow spirits, bartering for the life of an unlucky intern, and making espresso.
“Capitalism,” Janus complained as Roman led him downstairs.
“Yes, love, I know.”
The basement was two levels--the first was called the ‘chocolate factory,’ and the second, ‘spider hell.’ Roman had named the first in a burst of whimsy after rereading the Willy Wonka book. The second was self-explanatory. The second was also home to most of the demons.
When Janus passed the few employees around, they gave him a do we have to evacuate look. He responded with a don’t think so, keep toiling for the man look. Roman gave them all a perky thumbs up.
The second set of stairs were too greasy to make out their color. It was old legend that the posters and artwork grew older the farther you went--the cafe on the top floor was fresh and bright, and the chocolate factory was decorated with motivational posters that were splattered with coffee. Spider hell was devoid of intact decorations. Just old photos with faded edges, a few outdated certificates of health, and torn motivational posters.
For example, the poster on the door to spider hell. It had a kitten image, and was probably supposed to say Hang in there! The bottom was torn off. It just said Hang.
Roman opened the door and bowed dramatically. Janus sighed, kissed Roman’s cheek, and entered spider hell.
The hallway itself was clean, if a bit too reminiscent of fluorescent middle school halls. Most of the doors didn’t open. Janus kicked one as he passed, and the narrow window glinted back at him. Door, door, old bathroom with moths around the lights, door, mysterious graffiti--
Virgil, who breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the door to the boiler room. His apron was tied around his waist like a sweater. Behind him were several wooden rods, a few floorboards, and balled-up motivational posters, all jammed against the door to keep it locked.
“You’ve been busy,” Roman said. “Is that a folding chair?”
“I had to be careful!” Virgil pressed closer to the door. “I’m too young to die! I was gonna steal some metal from the pipes, but Janus would have been mad.”
“Correct,” Janus agreed. “We’re going to deal with this situation, alright? You can go cover for me upstairs--we need another barista.”
“I can leave?” Virgil whooped. “Oh, thank fuck, I’m gonna get the hell out of here. Have fun.”
“We will!” Roman said.
Virgil saluted them, then raced down the hallway. “Gonna expect a pay raise for all this!”
“Take it up with Patton,” Janus yelled.
“Don’t blame things on your imaginary friend!”
“He’s not--”
The door slammed behind Virgil. Janus turned to Roman petulantly. “He’s not imaginary. I’ve seen him. Once.”
“Sure,” Roman said.
“Ugh.” Janus rolled his eyes. “Why do I keep you two around?”
“Well, Virgil’s the coffee machine whisperer! And I’m devilishly handsome.” Roman winked at him. “You can’t resist, dearest.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Janus turned to the door. “In we go?”
“Into the breach, dear boyfriend.”
It took several minutes to pull the obstacles off the door. Virgil had managed to pound nails into the doorframe, probably in sheer panic, and Roman kept pausing to nurse splinters. Janus pried the folding chair from the door, tore off the posters, and kissed Roman’s hand when he asked. Finally, the door was clear enough for Janus to force it open.
An unwritten rule at the coffee shop was to keep flashlights everywhere. Behind every door, on every table, and in every pocket. Janus pulled his own out of his apron. Roman did the same.
At first, the boiler room looked normal. The huffing pipes, tossing steam into the corners, and the grimy concrete floor. Then Janus’ flashlight skidded onto the wall, and the beam illuminated a series of runes burned into the plaster. Each letter was about the size of Janus’ head, and the edges were rough, like they’d been clawed there.
“No blood,” Janus noticed. “They’re losing their touch.”
“I’m assuming that’s a message.” Roman walked forward and squinted at it. “Can you make anything out?”
Janus tried to put the squiggles into some kind of order. It looked like a few dozen letters, but he couldn’t be sure, because they blended into each other and made his head hurt. “I have no idea what that says.”
“Darn.” Roman folded his arms and flickered his flashlight on the runes like a strobe light. They did not magically coalesce into something coherent. “Logan’s not here, right?”
“He’s off-shift.” Janus thought for a second before pulling out his phone. “I’ll text him.”
“What if he’s busy?”
“The customer is always right, and always comes first,” Janus said while unlocking his phone. “Customers don’t want to die. He can spare a moment for us. And I’m his manager-by-default, so he has to do what I say.”
“Fair,” Roman said, giving Janus the you’re very cute when you’re in charge smile.
Janus would have teased him about that, if they had time. Instead, he just shot Logan a text. Can you decode something?
Half a minute passed.
This is important, Janus texted.
Ten more seconds with no response.
I will fire you, Janus texted. We’re all going to die, Janus texted. This is an emergency, Janus texted. Our deaths will be on your conscience if you keep ignoring me, Janus texted.
“Maybe he just hasn’t seen the texts,” Roman pointed out, leaning over Janus’ shoulder.
Answer me or I swear I’ll fucking find you, Janus texted.
“Dearest,” Roman said.
“What?”
Before Roman could say something endearingly naive about ‘compassion’ or whatever, Janus’ phone buzzed.
What do you need? Logan had texted back.
Janus held up his phone and took a picture of the runes. Fortunately, they showed up on camera. The picture still mysteriously corrupted mid-message, but when Janus re-sent it, Logan sent back a thumbs up.
What does it say? Janus asked.
Logan typed for several seconds. Finally, Janus received a small wall of text. He skimmed it, closed his eyes, and opened his eyes again.
“That’s not English,” Roman said hesitantly. “I’m not losing it. That’s not English, right?”
“I think it’s Catalan.” Janus sighed and thumbed out a response. That wasn’t English, try again.
Apologies, Logan responded. I’ll try again.
Janus waited impatiently, watching the small white dots as Logan texted. Roman dropped a kiss to his forehead for no apparent reason. Janus did his best not to blush.
Finally, Logan sent a small paragraph, followed by English?
Yes, good job. Thank you.
No problem. Stop texting me more than once or I will block you.
How dare you, I am your manager.
No response. Janus resolved to discreetly spill coffee on Logan’s shirt on their next shared shift.
“What’d he say?” Roman asked, impatiently jumping from foot to foot.
Janus skimmed the paragraph. “It looks like a riddle. ‘What walks on two legs--’”
“Human,” Roman interrupted. “Oh, that’s an easy one!”
Janus shook his head. “‘What walks on two legs in the air, eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer you look?’”
For a second, they were both quiet.
“That’s not a human,” Roman finally said, a bit weakly.
“Humans don’t tend to gain limbs, you’re correct.” Janus let out a breath. “Analogy or not, human is not the answer.”
“Then what is it?” Roman turned to the wall again. The letters dripped like burns down the wall. “We--I’m assuming they want us to solve the riddle.”
“Yeah.”
“Why a riddle?”
“Sometimes you get bored,” Janus said. “I get it.”
Roman looked incredulously at him.
“The bigger question is what happens if we don’t guess it,” Janus continued, tapping his fingers on his phone. “Definitely something good.”
“And how much time do we have?”
As if by agreement, they both looked back at the door. It had slammed shut. The only light were their flashlights, illuminating the hulking boiler and the dustiest corners of spider hell. No spiders yet, but it was only a matter of time. Janus could almost hear them rustling.
“That’s not going to open,” Roman said, his voice pitched up. “Is it?”
“Only one way to make sure.” Janus strode over to the door and tugged on the handle. It was like tugging on a concrete wall. “Congratulations, you win a prize.”
“Wonderful,” Roman exclaimed. “Fabulous! We’re trapped here!”
Janus stepped back and rammed his shoulder into the door. The only thing he achieved was shoulder pain.
“I’m gonna call someone.” Roman pulled out his phone. The blue light trembled over his face. “Get us out of here.”
“We haven’t solved the riddle yet!” Janus protested, giving up on the locked door. “Solve it, and we leave, and the shop won’t be in danger.”
“I’d rather be alive, thanks!”
“Coward,” Janus murmured, scanning the room for immediate threats, and finding nothing but shadows and cobwebs. That didn’t mean nothing was there. It just meant they still had time. “We have to keep the shop from burning down, it’s the bare minimum of our jobs.”
Roman ran a hand through his hair. “And what’s it to us? I hate this job, and so do you.”
“Patton would fire me if I didn’t--”
“So get fired!” Roman burst out in frustration. “Let this place go up in smoke, I don’t care!”
“There are people in here! We need their money!” Janus waved his hands around. “Capitalism!”
That made Roman snicker, which made the tension settle, which made Janus smile back.
“You can leave if you’d like,” Janus allowed after a moment. “If you can find a way out. I can try to solve the riddle on my own.”
“What? No! We’re in this together.” Roman grinned at him. “If my boyfriend is stubborn enough to face down shadow demons like an idiot, I’m going to be an idiot with him.”
“Charming,” Janus said sarcastically, to avoid saying something extremely sappy. “You truly know how to treat a man.”
“I do!” Roman smiled wider and gestured at the runes. “A very smart man who will definitely solve this riddle!”
Janus nodded and turned back to the wall of runes.
Two legs in the air, and eight legs on the ground. It must be an analogy, like the original riddle, but what could air and ground represent? Imagination and reality? Or perhaps the legs were the metaphorical parts--
“Go Janus!” Roman cheered quietly from behind him.
“What?”
“I’m encouraging you!” Roman made jazz hands. “Solve it! You can do it, dear!”
Janus snickered and rolled his eyes.
“Go Janus,” Roman whispered.
Janus tried to focus on the riddle again.
Maybe he should research it. Logan clearly didn’t have an answer, or he probably would have included it with his text, but Logan was still a good problem-solver. Janus should have asked what language it was in. Janus should have confirmed the translation. Janus should have given Virgil a backup plan.
There was no use psyching himself out, though. This was another routine afternoon. He’d come out victorious a dozen times before, and there was no reason he wouldn’t keep up the streak.
Two legs in the air, eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer he looked.
Janus looked harder.
And he saw legs. And hands, and claws scratching at the cement.
Oh, yay, just what he’d wanted! It must be his birthday.
“Roman,” Janus said slowly. “Do you see that too?”
“What?”
“Look very closely.”
A long pause. Then a loud “Fuck!”
“You see it?”
“Hard to miss now,” Roman said, wide-eyed. “What is that?”
Slowly, and steadily, the runes were crumbling. The burns were melting deeper into the wall. And from the holes, shadows climbed out--or maybe it was just the holes themselves, deepening and tearing, turning the world inside out.
“Fun,” Janus said, wishing he’d taken his chance to get the hell out of here while he still could. “This is very, very fun.”
“We should probably solve that riddle,” Roman said.
“Oh, really?” Janus clutched his flashlight tighter. The beam glanced off the shadows like light on oil. “I would have never guessed.”
Two legs in air, eight legs on the ground, more legs and hands and eyes glistening with oil--
The next few seconds were a blur. Something lunged, Janus’ flashlight winked out, and Roman’s clattered to the ground. A cold rope-hand-something curled around his ankle, and Roman’s hand grabbed his.
“Where’s my--” Roman’s voice was panicked. “Shit, okay, the flashlight’s by the boiler--”
“Okay,” Janus said quietly, trying to kick away the cold cloud-hand-whatever it was. “I can’t see the runes anymore.”
“They’re basically falling apart as we speak. You remember the riddle, right?”
“Two, eight, far too many.” Janus swallowed and tried to think. The cold around his ankle was growing warm, too, like frostbite so icy it burned. “Two, eight--”
His ankle was wrenched in a direction it wasn’t supposed to.
Janus heard a wet snap.
And oh, he knew that feeling. Too sudden and complete to hurt. Too much hurt to even comprehend, as if he could feel the pain coming, but not enough time to brace himself. Not nearly enough time.
Red-hot pain, jolting up his bones, from his broken fucking ankle.
He might have screamed. His knees buckled, and someone--Roman--caught him halfway to the floor. Everything was dark. Something red flashed in his vision. Janus could barely breathe without pain tearing at his lungs, but he tried, breathe in and out and wait for the world to stop spinning.
“Hey, whoa, okay, okay,” Roman was murmuring. “What happened? What--”
Janus opened his mouth to explain. All that escaped was a small whimper. If Janus was in less pain, he would have been embarrassed.
“Okay, okay, love, it’s okay.” A hand brushed Janus’ hair out of his face. “Keep breathing. Calm down. It’s okay.”
“Ankle,” Janus forced out. His limbs felt like jelly. “Fucking ankle, gonna fucking--”
“Yes, yes, you’ll get your revenge.” Roman’s voice was achingly soft, and it made Janus relax a bit. “I can lower you to the ground so you don’t have to put weight on it--”
“No,” Janus complained, rather enjoying the feeling of Roman’s arms around him. “Pretty sure we wanna be able to run--”
“You can’t run anyway.”
“Capitalism,” Janus mumbled. “Hate it.”
“Me too, love.”
Something scraped at Janus’ shoulder, something that felt uncomfortably like teeth. He stifled a yelp.
“Oh, that was something.” Roman’s harried tone told Janus he’d felt it, too. “Where is my flashlight--I can’t see anything--”
“Riddle,” Janus reminded him.
“Right,” Roman said. “Right, right, you know what? I’m gonna call someone! I’m gonna call someone.”
“Mm.”
A pause and several rustles. The pain was dulling to a manageable low roar. Janus felt something brush his hand and he swatted at it. Maybe they’d break his other ankle next. Maybe they’d work through him limb by limb, like a game of Hangman.
“Fuck off,” Janus told the darkness.
“Phone’s not--” Roman swore. “Phone’s not working. Of course.”
“Riddle.”
“Right.”
“Riddle,” Janus repeated. Two legs, eight legs, lots of legs. Maybe it didn’t have an answer and they were just messing with him. Maybe he’d answer it and die anyway. That would be a shame, dying with his boyfriend, especially because letting everyone in the building perish was definitely a health code violation.
Roman whacked at something. “Away, foul fiends!”
Janus tested his ankle. He couldn’t even bring himself to move it.
Wonderful. He couldn’t solve a three-line riddle, and he was going to die like a fool in the shadows of spider hell--
Wait.
“Two legs,” Janus said. His voice rasped. “Two legs in the air, when it’s falling on a thread--oh, I hate you.”
“What?” Roman asked.
“And eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer you look.” Janus laughed. “That’s fair enough.”
Something brushed against his back, feeling like scales.
“Spiders,” Janus said. “That’s the answer! Are you happy now? It’s spiders, leave us alone!”
For one horrifying second, one throb of his ankle, nothing happened.
And then the flashlight at Janus’ feet turned on.
Spider hell looked the same as it always did. Empty walls, a boiler choking on steam, and Roman’s flashlight rolling in the dust. Roman grabbed Janus’, leaned over, and grabbed his own.
“What--” Roman looked around. “Did you--solve it?”
“I think--” Janus slipped a bit in Roman’s arms.
“You did it!” Roman laughed in relief. “You did it, you absolute genius--”
Janus looked up at his boyfriend. Even through the haze of pain, he looked exceedingly adorable. Janus leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. “Don’t flatter me.”
“But darling, it’s so easy!” Roman adjusted Janus in his arms. “Does your ankle hurt?”
“Take a guess.”
“We’ll have to find you a doctor,” Roman said, pulling him forward. “Out of the basement first, though, before another villainous creature decides to use as afternoon entertainment.”
“Or the spiders find us,” Janus agreed. He tried to shift his weight onto his good foot, but he could barely move without his head spinning. “Ow.”
“Just stay put! I’ll carry you!”
“No.”
“I’ll assist you,” Roman amended. “Lean on me, and I’ll walk you upstairs, okay?”
Janus shifted in Roman’s arms. “Am I hurting you? I’m heavy.”
“You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy.” Roman pressed a kiss to Janus’ head and led him to the door. He kicked it, and it opened. “I’ve got you, love. I’m escorting the brave savior of the coffee shop!”
“I’m manager by default,” Janus said, wrapping an arm around Roman’s waist. Just to hold himself up, of course. No other reason. “It’s my job.”
“You do a great job of it!”
“Someone has to.” Janus clung to Roman’s side as he led them up the stairs. The poster told him to Hang. Janus filled in the other two words, and hung in there.
“I think it’s broken,” Janus said as Roman half-carried him up the stairs. “This is humiliating. Also, expensive.”
“We’ll figure it out, people get hurt, it happens.” Roman paused on one landing. “I’m just happy it wasn’t anything worse.”
“Still the worst injury so far,” Janus said ruefully. “Give me employee of the month.”
Roman smiled and pulled him up the final stairs. “I’ll ask Patton.”
When they burst dramatically through the doors into the cafe, Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re not dead!”
“Not for lack of trying, no.” Janus eased himself onto a chair and took a deep breath. The cafe was bursting with people and lights, all the customers completely unaware that they’d just escaped their demise. Janus envied them. “The situation is taken care of, you can relax.”
“Thanks,” Virgil said. “Uh--you okay?”
“He’s taking the rest of the day off,” Roman said before Janus could explain. “Broken ankle. I’m going to rest with him at home, then he’ll take a trip to the clinic.”
“I’ll what?” Janus repeated. “I have a shift--”
“You’re the manager,” Roman pointed out. “Give yourself a free day.”
“The cafe’s busy! I’d leave us short-staffed!”
“You can’t walk.”
“Capitalism!”
“Self-care!” Roman folded his arms. “Virgil, can you cover for Janus as he goes home?”
“Uh--” Virgil looked between them. Janus expected him to say no. “‘Course! I bet I can grab Logan for an emergency shift, too.”
“No, you can’t,” Janus said mockingly as Virgil pulled out his phone. “He’s a bastard and won’t--”
Virgil’s phone buzzed. “He’ll be here in five.”
“Wh--” Janus blinked. “How did you--”
“He just doesn’t like you.” Virgil smirked at him. “Go rest, Jan, we’ll cover your ass.”
“You heard him!” Roman held out a hand. “Come on, love, let’s have a break. The coffee shop won’t burn down while you’re gone, and if it does, Patton can handle it.”
Janus wasn’t sure about that one. Maybe he would return to a burned shell of a building. Or several dead bodies.
But Virgil and Logan knew what to do. And an afternoon with his boyfriend didn’t sound too bad.
“Fine,” Janus said. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
Give me a prompt, and I’ll write a short drabble!
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itsmeevie01 · 3 years
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A Moment in Time- Ch 11
MASTERPOST
wow, this took a while! in all honesty? it was the effort it took to get back inside Tim's head. moving on, please check the A/N at the end, for the rest of the going ons and comments on the...cannon compliance. or lack of, therefore. a warning? I threw cannon out the window before I started. oh! and this ch mentions kind of vague suicide? so, if that's a trigger, skip the headlines about Adrien. (don't worry, I haven't killed him..yet)
While Marinette was giving Adrien a heart attack, across the ocean, the girl was also giving Tim Drake one.
It had been almost 24 hours since he had heard from the very prompt Marinette. After their last email, he had gone to bed. When he had woken up the next day, he had lunged for his computer only to find that his inbox sat empty. When he had checked it again after his first coffee, Tim was again disappointed.
After that, he had set his inbox to notify him if something from his friend came in.
Now, as he sat in his car after work, Tim anxiously hovered his finger over the email icon. He had stayed late to distract himself and had fallen asleep at his desk.  It was 11 at night, and his phone had gone off with a call from Alfred. The butler had been trying to get in contact with him, concerned that he had been kidnapped again.
Hesitantly, Tim thumbed his way into the drafts of his email and looked over the top one.
Marinette,
I apologize if you feel that I have overstepped in the past 24 hours. I truly did not intend to find out from Jason. I had intended to ask you when you came for the Gala.
I know that we usually average 2-3 emails a day, but I wanted to give you some space to process if you needed.
I look forward to you joining us in Gotham, in a few weeks. I know that with all that is going on with Hawkmoth, you must be relieved to leave the city for some time. Alfred will probably reach out, but I was wondering if there was anything we could do to make your stay more enjoyable? Times around the galas are always a bit hectic, and I don’t want to make your life any more difficult. On another side note, will you be traveling alone? International travel can be quite hectic, especially if you are flying somewhere new.
It turns out that my father’s company likes to throw curveballs, and I will be flying to Paris in the next week. If you have time, maybe we could sit down and talk?
I was reading back through our emails and realized that you may not have heard. Jason and Gina have left on some sort of adventure. The only thing that they said was that we should start checking Italian news. Do you have any idea what that may be about?
I hope to hear from you soon.
-Tim
P.S. is the offer for the super coffee recipes still open? Those coffees are sounding more and more appealing.
After hesitating one more time, Tim hit send and watched as the message disappeared from his screen. With a sigh, the teen turned his car on, and made his way out onto the late-night streets of Gotham.
When he rolled out of bed the next morning, Tim blindly reached for his phone. Before he could open his email and look for a message from Marinette, a notification caught his attention.
ITALIAN GANG EXPOSED AS ROOT OF GOTHAM DRUG ISSUE
Rolling his eyes, Tim opened that headline. There the story went into more detail and the young CEO was able to see his older brother’s fingerprints all over the discovery. At the end, it mentioned two ‘biker vigilantes’ who had ridden through town and mostly done what they could to defend those who needed help. The author noted that the duo was gone by the time the gang had been brought to justice. It was rumored that they had been the ones to take the gang down.
With a roll of his eyes, Tim sent Jason a screenshot of the story and a good job, before flipping to his email.
There, sitting at the top of his inbox was…nothing from Marinette. A frown worked its way onto Tim’s face as he refreshed his email again. When nothing came up, he moved to his computer. As he navigated to the French news site he had bookmarked Tim reminded himself that there were heroes in Paris and that there was nothing to worry about.
He quickly revised the thought as he looked at the top headline.
ADRIEN AGRESTE MISSING.
The next one read very similarly.
GABRIEL AGRESTE CLAIMS SON RAN AWAY! IS HE HIDING THE INNER BEGINNINGS OF SCANDAL?
With a click, Tim opened another news site based in Paris.
A MOTHER’S SUICIDE. A SON’S DISAPPEARANCE. A FATHER’S ABUSIVE NATURE. AN UNFILTERED LOOK AT THE AGRESTE HOUSEHOLD FROM AN INSIDE SOURCE.
Worry settled in the pit of Tim’s stomach. If there were legitimate news sources running this kind of thing, something must be going on. Marinette hadn’t mentioned anything about the boy, and most likely they weren’t friends. Hell, they probably didn’t even know the other existed. He tried to brush off the headlines as the media overdramatizing things again. However, his gut just wouldn’t let him.
With a sigh, Tim opened a separate tab and set up his computer desk for the long haul. He was going to dig into the Agreste kid. After he checked on Marinette.
It had been a lot easier to find what he was looking for than he expected. Within the first hour, Tim had tracked down the people Adrien was close to because of his father and moved onto the boy’s school friends. When he had pulled up the school the missing teen attended, Tim froze.
It was the same Lycée that Marinette attended.
In a flurry of typing, Tim pulled up the school records. There was Marinette. A few familiar faces. And then…there! in the same class was the missing blonde boy. As the young vigilante stared at the class roster, Tim felt his stomach sink. Adrien and Marinette were in the same class.
While Bruce had shrugged off the worry that Tim had, the teen knew that he had a valid concern. There was a sinking in his gut, a tightness that he couldn’t explain. All Tim knew was that this connection between Adrien Agreste and Marinette was going to change the situation in Paris, drastically.
It was at three in the morning when Tim’s email box binged.
The teen’s head was resting on the keys, his arms slack at his sides. On the screen, where the cursor was blinking a line of unintelligible letters was running. As the bing went off again, louder, and Tim jerked up in surprise and blinked owlishly at the screen.
He had begged off patrol in favor of looking into a ‘case’. He had spent the entire evening camped out at his desk digging further into all things Paris. On one window, he had the files he was compiling on the names that kept coming up, while in another he monitored three different news sites known to report on Akumas. In one of the windows that was hidden behind piles of rabbit holes, was a file with one line typed
         MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG
As understanding ran over his face, Tim opened a new window and clicked into his email. There, waiting for him at the top of the inbox was an email from Marinette. 
Tim,
 I am so sorry that I disappeared! One of my friends had a family emergency and I have been spending time with him helping with the fine details.
I appreciate the apology, but I can’t really blame you when Jason was being an idiot. It feels good to know that you now understand why and how Jason and I know each other. As for my older brother, last I heard, he was coming back to Paris on his way to Germany. He promised to be back in Gotham in time for the annual Holiday Gala.
You mentioned that you were coming to Paris before the Gala? Is everything ok? I would enjoy meeting you if there is time. Of course, much of my schedule will be revolving around finals, so maybe an ice cream break would be in order? Let me know when you arrive, and we can make plans!
That reminds me, I won't be on my computer much and I've been enjoying talking with you. If you want, you can text me at XX-XXX-XXXX-XX.
Have a good day,
~Marinette
P.S. I was going to send you the coffee recipes, but it would be better if I gave them to you in person!
Tension ran out of Tim’s shoulders as he reread the email. Marinette was ok, she didn’t hate him. but, as the teen reread his friend's (were they friends?) email, he realized that there was something off with her email. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but the young vigilante chalked it up to his exhaustion.
With a sleepy smile, Tim clicked out of his email and stood from the desk. A moment later, he was tumbling into bed. For once, he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
As Bruce Wayne climbed the stairs to the upper levels of the Manor, his eyes caught on a computer bag that had been left in a nook off the stairs. With a small smile, the billionaire picked up the bag and collected the notes that had been left from whenever Tim had last worked there. it was late, and the teen had begged off patrol tonight to work on his own projects in preparation for his trip to Paris. At this time in the early morning, it would be hit or miss whether he would still be awake. Many times, when Bruce would check on Tim, the teen was passed out at his desk or on his bed surrounded with projects.
Bruce knew that Tim was working himself to the bone before his trip to Paris. The teen had dug into the supervillain problem that Jared Stone’s niece had mentioned to him. Bruce really hoped that Tim hadn’t put together that Jason was related to the girl, because that could cause problems within the family. Not because of the actual connection, but the secrecy that he and Jason had used to handle it.
With sending Tim to Paris there was a certain media risk. The only reason that Bruce was willing to risk the media was the fact that his son was the most informed on the supervillain situation. That, and there was actual clean-up work that needed to be done after finding corruption in their Parisian office.
As the billionaire cracked open Tim’s door, a smile crossed the man’s face. The teen was curled up in bed, his desk cluttered with work, his computer still running. His shoes were kicked off to the side, and his skateboard was leaning against the wall by the closet door. At the end of the bed was his carry-on, open and partially packed. At the top of the bag, just visible from the door was a box that had been wrapped. In Tim’s (surprisingly elegant) script was the name ‘Marinette’. Bruce studied the box for a moment, before shaking his head and nothing to ask Tim in the morning.
Leaving the door cracked, Bruce stepped into the space and put his son’s bag and cacophony of papers on the top of his dresser, where he would look when it was time for him to pack his bags in the morning. With one last glance at the sleeping teen, Bruce closed the door to let the boy sleep.
Skater Tim? Skater Tim.
hiiiiiiiii! I'm back! what did you think of the look back into Gotham? I wanted to do something that would look at things from outside the little bubble of Mari and Tim, so we got some Bruce time. am I keeping Bruce as a good dad? yes, I am. I think that *technically* Tim didn't get adopted (I looked it up, but dudes, I got every version of yes and no out there. if ANYONE KNOWS FOR SURE, LET ME KNOW.). ANYWAYS I decided that I was throwing out any and all cannon early on, so if you know what the official version is, lmk, but it's really only so that I have references to work off of for character references.
now that we are expanding the miracusquad, should Tim get a Miraculous? which one? also, the reason that Mari is kinda...distant, is because she is planning on how to kick hawkmoth's ass.
Luka is getting his miraculous soon! will I actually follow cannon for once? Nobody knows!
tag list!  @moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh @m0chick0furan @susiej1118 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @sassakitty @remy-289 @solangelo252 @corporeal-terrestrial @woe-is-me0  @toodaloo-kangaroo
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donkey-hyuck · 3 years
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word count- 2.5k+
genre- FLUFFY | neighbor!au
characters/pairings- neighbor!jeno x reader (gender neutral) | dreamies
warnings- language | dialogue heavy | over usage of words bc i’m irrelevant | the cutest people ever
introduction- since moving to the city— closer to your university— you noticed that your cat had taken an interest in another cat from the apartment building across from yours. she seemed very intrigued and things only escalated. in a good way for the both of you. because who knew such a good looking guy owned three cats he was allergic to?
a/n- based on some ‘the dodo’ story i saw a couple months ago and it was so cute hehe. also yes this is another jeno drabble thingy okay. and idk where the divider is from, i just have it on my phone sorry :(
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the last box you had packed prior was finally set in your new apartment by your brother.
“this is the last one, right? because i’m not helping you anymore,” he huffed out a breath and rested his hands on his thigh. you snorted out a laugh and responded, “lazy ass. yeah, this is the last box. thanks for coming.”
you invited your brother to stay a bit later to treat him for takeout but he declined and reassured you he was fine and was going to head home. nodding your head, you just agreed as you walked him to the door.
it was only about six p.m. when you decided to unpack the rest of the boxes that you and your brother had brought up. when walking back into the living room, the shades to the window were still opened and you saw your cat, bomi, sitting by the window peering through the opened shades. the apartments from the complex across from yours were the same as any others. many university students or young adults filled the rooms, some curtains were closed, and some were lit up by the LED lights that lined their ceilings. but one window was opened. it showcased the large tv the stranger had as well as three cats by the window as well. one of them was even similar to bomi. however you thought nothing of it, too tired of driving back and forth and bringing boxes up and down. so you closed everything in for the night after unpacking about three or four boxes.
the following morning, you walked to the kitchen. and through the opened kitchen was your living room which you saw bomi sitting at the window again. you had called her over and put the cat food in the bowl for her breakfast. after leaving bomi for her breakfast, you grabbed your laptop from your bedroom and sat on the couch to finish some work and answer emails from your new university. moments of rereading emails stopped when you looked up— for no particular reason— and saw the same cats that caught bomi’s attention by the window. and then the shade was opened. oh wow.
the owner of the cats was a male. you didn’t want to assume but he looked as though he was around the same age as you. and he was cute. really fucking cute. the guy that opened the shade was wearing a pair of adidas track pants and was shirtless. and you just stared at him, as creepy as it looked and sounded like. by his feet were his three cats and bomi was sat next to the window once again.
“bomi, what’s wrong with you all of a sudden?” you asked and grabbed her small body and sat back on the couch. “do you want friends now? are you lonely because we moved?” you joked to yourself and scratched behind her ears. but once you set her free from your grasp, she sat by the window and you noticed one of his cats was looking at bomi. just as you were about to put away your laptop, bomi got up and walked around the perimeter of the window with her head still facing out the ceiling-to-floor window.
your eyes followed her feline figure and an idea shot up from your noggin. you didn’t know if it would work but it was worth a shot. so you went to your car and drove to a nearby craft store to buy some poster boards and markers. when you got home, you contemplated in your mind for a couple minutes before just going for it. fuck it. you wrote the poster as if you were in bomi’s body. and you thought it was a bit childish and unrealistic but it was worth a try.
‘hi, i’m bomi from the apartment complex next door. i see you three cats, do you wanna be friends?’ unbelievable. absolutely unbelievable. but you just taped it up on the window and closed the shade just enough for you not to see if he responded and got ready to go to your job. this was never going to work.
when you got home, the sun was just barely setting and bomi was once again, sitting by the window and looking out into that apartment. you sighed to yourself and picked her up before opening the shade to see if the cats— or more so the boy— had responded.
thankfully, the boy didn’t reply and it calmed your nerves down a bit more. the entire day you were away at work, thoughts filled your head about all the possible outcomes that could happen. without realizing, you breathed out in relief and set down bomi to get ready to eat dinner and shower. all the while, you forgot about the poster and there it was— left taped on the window.
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donghyuck, renjun, and chenle had been over jeno’s apartment that day when they saw the poster taped on your window.
“jeno! who’s bomi?” exclaimed hyuck with his brows raised up and down, playfully. jeno got up from his seat at the kitchen island when he looked out the window behind his couch. he then just shrugged but did not miss the cat that looked somewhat like seol. then renjun spoke, “maybe it’s that cat. hey, doesn’t she look a little like seol?” chenle went toward the window to put his two cents into the conversation, “hey, she kinda does! what if she’s looking at your cats, jeno?” he asked and pointed out the window. “we should write back!” he then said with a bright smile on his face.
“we can, but i don’t have any poster paper right now,” he excused. though the boys thought he was lying they suggested that they would go to the nearest corner store to buy some cheap poster papers to reply to you.
and they did, but around ten at night when you were long gone from your living room and asleep in your bed. bomi wasn’t at the window either, but they still decided to write the letter for you in the morning.
‘i’m seol, the one that looks like you. the one with the black is nal and the one with the gray stripes is bongshik. it’s nice to meet you!’ read the sign. jeno could not believe he was writing back to a stranger he’s never even seen before. but it was whatever, new friends for his cats, he figured. the male held the sign in front of him for a minute before just shaking his head and taping the poster to his window and he was out for the night.
the morning you woke up, you had set a reminder to yourself that your classes started today and got up from your bed to make breakfast for both you and your kitty. opening the shade to the window, bomi was pawing and softly meowing at the window.
noticing the paper still stuck on the window, you mentally curse yourself out and look to the opposite side of your building. there was also a piece of poster paper that was taped onto the window with his three cats under it, looking out into the city. you identified the three cats immediately.
“bomi look! you really do look like seol. they can be your friends instead of those alley cats back home,” you spoke to her and then got ready to attend your nine a.m. class. however before putting on your shoes, you wrote back a little note for the cats on the opposite building.
‘great! y/n (my owner) is at university but let’s meet some day!’ you still could not believe you were doing this as you finished taping up the board. you left it there for the day as you went to your classes for the next couple hours.
throughout your first classes, your mind always went back to what happened the last few days. your neighbors as well as his neighbors must’ve thought you were both crazy. but anything for your cats.
for some reason when you got home, you were in a rush to see if the boy had responded to the message you left that morning. and in all hell, he did.
‘hey! jeno (our owner) is on his way to class too! and yes, let’s definitely meet one day! our owners can meet too!’
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when jeno awoke that morning, he was shoving cereal down his throat and looked at your window. his heart was beating faster as he read over the note and ran to put away his bowl and get ready for his class. though he didn’t forget to write back at you, even if you probably wouldn’t see it until later.
with the cap of the marker in his mouth, jeno quickly wrote down what he was going to say and messily taped the poster to his window and left his house. he was almost late for his nine a.m. class.
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watching the students come in you noticed the owner of bongsik, nal, and seol come into the room. oh shit. you tried to hide yourself behind the screen of your laptop when you remembered that he’s probably never seen you before. so slowly, you escaped your little hideaway and kept your identity on the low. because he might have seen you in broad daylight when your shades were up. but he didn’t, so you were safe.
looking at the message taped to his window, you wrote back.
you were sitting on the carpet floor of the living room when jeno finally saw you; specifically your side profile but he wasn’t complaining. you were doing the same thing he was that morning— the marker cap in your mouth with your brows furrowed.
he then saw your face when you sat up and got the roll of tape to stick on the glass. and you too, saw him looking at you with a smile on his face. your jaw was slightly dropped and the cap of the marker fell from your mouth as the boy laughed at your expression, then he waved. your eyes were opened wide and you shyly waved back.
jeno read over the note you just wrote. ‘hi i’m y/n (sorry this whole thing was so weird but my cat would not stop meowing at yours) but we could meet at the park? if you’d like?’ he smiled even more as he read over your writing. jeno nodded and asked ‘is it okay if we meet now?’ to which you shook your head ‘yes’ and were on your way to the nearest park (which was a measly three minute walk from your apartment.) then, you realized you never specified a park and just hoped he came to this one.
your hands were in your pockets as you awkwardly looked around to see the cute boy that lived across the street. he came up from behind you and greeted, “hi, i’m jeno.”
upon the sudden talk, you slightly jumped and turned around as he laughed again, his eye smile on full display.
the two of you walked around the park and conversed for what seemed like a couple minutes. but after you exchanged numbers and arrived home, you realized you had been at the park for a good hour and a half. holy shit.
you found out a little bit more about lee jeno. he was allergic to cats yet he still adopted three (which was beyond the epitome of cute), that he also moved to the city around a year ago, and that you two were attending the same nine a.m. class. you two had so much in common, huh?
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arriving home to his apartment, jeno laid on his bed with his hand over his heart. it was beating fast. who knew his cats would bring him someone so attractive?
just as he was thinking about you, seol jumped on his bed and knocks were heard from his front door. he rolled his eyes and got up from his bed, it was his best friends staying for the night. it was a friday, after all.
while hanging with his best friends he decided to message you to see what was popping i hate that i said that lmao. and through the next two movies, jeno was not paying attention. he’d look to see what was happening here and there but always trained his eyes back to his phone.
“ayy why are you on your phone?” teased jaemin and hyuck.
“yeah, who are you texting this time at night?” said mark and jisung.
“and why are you texting someone?” poked chenle and renjun.
none of these questions were barely answered because jeno was too busy smiling at his screen. but then mark looked over his shoulder to see that jeno was texting you.
“ayyy, who’s y/n?” mark raised his voice and hit jeno’s strong bicep. just as your name exited mark’s mouth, jaemin’s eyes lit up and knew who you were.
“oh my god, that’s soojin’s new neighbor!” he shouted and stood up from the couch.
“jeno’s got a (boy)girlfriend! jeno’s got a (boy)girlfriend! jeno’s got a (boy)girlfriend!” the six boys jumped from their seats and chanted. renjun then reminded them that you lived across the street and they ran to the window to see if you were there. unfortunately for them, your shades were closed and the only thing they were able to see was bomi.
“hey doesn’t that cat kinda look like seol?”
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the next day (after his friends had left), jeno invited you to come to his apartment so that bomi could meet his three cats, two which you agreed and packed whatever bomi needed. you weren’t going to stay there long, right?
when bomi met bongshik, nal, and seol, the four of them kicked it off nicely. there was no hissing nor scratching and it made both you and jeno happy to see that your cats were getting along after never having a meeting. so while your cats played around in jeno’s apartment, he offered to let you stay for dinner. you were hesitant at first but agreed as he ordered some soju and chicken. predictable.
to you, jeno was being nice. though he was cute, you didn’t really know who he was and so you didn’t have a reason to catch feelings for him. but to jeno, you were more of a crush. not a big one since you both just met, but a tiny one. he knew you were a good person at heart and he couldn’t help the little emotions that he felt in his chest.
after many play dates between your pets, you did actually start to form feelings for lee jeno and he finally had the guts to ask if you wanted to go on a date.
“i thought you would never ask.”
and though it all deemed impossible and like a fairytale, you were glad you spoke up that day. because in the end, you got a boyfriend that was loving, and your cats had each other to play with.
101 notes · View notes
onlysarah235678 · 3 years
Text
A Little Bit Part 8
Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader
A/N: So here is a break from the death. Just a little dog fluff, annoying people, and flowers and lube as promised.  Thanks for reading 😊. Also special thank you to illuminated-blue for helping me figure out what gifs I wanted and then making them for me again (and for listening to me rant today). You’re the best ❤
Warnings: annoying people, brief mention of blood/wound cleaning, and slight dog aggression/distress. 
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The next day at work you feel like you’re floating you’re so happy. Everything is going well so far with appointments, and you’ve seen at least three happy, healthy puppies today. Not even the reporter waiting for you outside your building this morning could bring your mood down. You and Milo had just waltzed right by them to your car because you were determined to make it through this day unscathed. At least up until you went to Billie’s house.
The two of you had decided that you should come over because then Billie wouldn’t have to worry about the cats being left with the sitter. You felt bad for Heather who always seemed to be watching them, and Billie most likely wouldn’t be able to see you until after dinner time. The teen probably had better things to do than watch kittens all night. Even though they were adorable.
Speaking of cats, you look to your schedule and see that it’s changed a little. You take a minute to review the new client’s information before running up to your desk to finish up some notes while you had the chance. They should be here soon if they were in fact on time.
Claire smiles as she arrives at the clinic with her cat. She shuts the door behind her after grabbing the meowing cat in the back seat. She had specifically taken the day off so she could get her cat’s vaccines updated. Fridays were ideal because they were usually the busiest at the pet store. That’s why she’d picked today. She didn’t want to work. She also had wanted to make sure you’d be here, and that she could schedule an appointment with you. That was the real reason why Claire had taken today off of work.
She hadn’t seen you since running into you and Milo at that bar and that was too long for her liking. That meeting hadn’t gone the way she’d wanted so she was going to try again. She also had never gotten the chance to see you in your element, and she was way too excited for this opportunity today.
As Claire walked in through the front door, she immediately looked around for you, but came up empty. She turned to the blonde at the front desk with a half-smile.
“Hi, I’m here with Jonesy. I have an appointment with Dr. Y/L/N.”
You had never bothered to learn Claire’s last name. However, after being harassed by the brunette numerous times, you’d think that you’d want to have that sort of information. Unfortunately, you realize your mistake too late, and you walk into the exam room with Claire and her cat only to be completely blindsided. Dammit.
You barely hold back the urge to groan as you allow your professional persona to take over. You stomp down your personal feelings toward the brunette for probably the umpteenth time since you’d met her.
“Hi, Claire. Good to see you.”
For fuck’s sake. You had to stop saying that to her.
The exam went pretty well. Claire’s cat was a little shit for some of it, but he wasn’t the worst you’ve had to deal with. You’re at the point where you just need to get samples on him, but you have a feeling that you’ll need a little help. At the end of the exam, Jonesy got a little feisty and not too keen with being poked. For this reason, you asked the assistant helping you, Maria to go get another person to lend a hand, but Claire spoke up before she could leave. They exchange an uncomfortable look before you manage to cut the tension by smiling and effectively shutting Claire down.
“Don’t think you can handle little old Jonesy, Dr. Y/L/N?”
Maria’s jaw drops and you remind yourself to be a professional as you just laugh slightly instead of rolling your eyes.
“Not at all. I just want to make sure that no one gets hurt and that Jonesy is as least stressed as possible.”
Jonesy was very stressed. He hadn’t wanted any of the baby food that was offered and it took two holders wrapping him in a towel to keep him still. You pulled his blood easily enough, despite him having old cat veins that were practically non-existent, but there was no way in hell you were going to be able to get pee on him with how he was squirming.
As you did your job, you pretended not to notice Claire’s eyes on you. It was unsettling to say the least, but you weren’t going to call her out on it and let your assistants know that you’re tense. Well, you were all tense because Jonesy was getting pissed off.
You finish up quickly and pull out the needle from Jonesy’s leg, but you have to hold it for a moment to make sure his blood clots. That’s when he claws you with the nails you hadn’t gotten around to trimming yet. Maria had lifted her hand off of his leg like she was supposed to, and Jonesy took that opportunity to claw the shit out of your hand.
“Oww, okay! Let. Go.”
You pull Jonesy’s nail out of the back of your hand as carefully as possible before dropping his foot back onto the table. You used the towel wrapped around him to wipe up the blood that was already pooling before you go to grab the nail trimmers.
“Are you okay?”
You nod before grabbing the first paw with dagger-like nails. Jonesy of course hates it, but you finish quickly enough and manage to get out of there before Claire says anything too inappropriate. First thing you do is go to treatment and grab some gauze and disinfectant to put on your cut. It was still bleeding and you hiss in pain as you scrub it clean. This one is going to hurt like a bitch for a while.
Once done you wave your hand to dry it off before returning to pharmacy. You are about to start writing up Jonesy’s note when Maria comes out of the room you’d just been in with an uncertain look.
“Dr. Y/L/N.  She has another question for you.”
You hold in your sigh before you nod and head back into the exam room. Hopefully this goes quickly.
Billie Dean was on lunch when you texted her about Claire. She had been working non-stop since she arrived to the studio at 6 this morning. She was ready for a break long enough to finish a cigarette because she was long overdue for one. She was grateful that Michelle had gotten her lunch and had it waiting for her once she finished her most recent episode. She only had one left to get to, and she was excited to be done. Even though it would definitely take the rest of the day.
After re-recording was done for the season, she was going back on television and radio to promote it. The thought made Billie exhausted, but she had to admit it would be nice to leave this studio for the next one. She had a television interview scheduled for next week, and she had already decided to talk to you about it beforehand.
There was no doubt in Billie Dean’s mind that the interviewer would ask her about her relationship with Y/N. She couldn’t just sit there and dodge it, well she could, but it would be too obvious. She needed to figure out where you both stood with your relationship. It was something she’d have to mention tonight when you came over.
Billie had to stop herself from smiling at the thought of what tonight would bring. You had agreed to come over, and you had even offered to cook. Billie wasn’t very good in the kitchen despite learning a couple of your favorite dishes, but she knew how much you loved cooking. You had practically begged her to let you make her dinner, and of course she’d said yes. How could she have said no to that?
She was eager to see what you made and was certain that the image of you cooking in her kitchen would be enough to get her through the rest of the day.
Billie sighed as she put out her cigarette before grabbing her phone out of her purse. She ignored the emails and immediately looked to your messages. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she reread the texts a couple of times.
Even after doing that, she still had no idea what you were talking about.
You were angrily texting Billie in your office when Erin came upstairs to give you your stethoscope.  You’d left it downstairs in your hurry to go vent to Billie and you hadn’t even realized it. You didn’t hear her because you were muttering darkly under your breath, and you nearly fell out of your chair when she spoke up.
“Damn, annoying persistent little--.”
“Uh…Dr. Y/L/N?”
Your feet hit the ground fast as you spun around in your chair to see Erin standing in your doorway with your stethoscope in hand. You smile before laughing awkwardly and reaching out for it. You see Erin look to your phone before shooting you a concerned look.
“Oh, thank you!”
“Everything okay, doc?”
You nod despite the fact that you’re lying. You are annoyed at Claire for reasons you can’t really work out, but it’s enough to tick you off. You were having such a good day, and then she had to come in here and trap you in a room with her. She didn’t really have any questions for you, at least ones related to Jonesy. You try not to think about those same annoying questions before you shrug and decide to tell a little bit of the truth.
“Yeah, I just saw a client who I’ve had not so fun encounters with before.”
This piques Erin’s curiosity and she can’t help but ask who you just saw. You mention her name and how she works at a pet store you go to, and Erin practically jumps at this.
“Wait, is she brunette and kind of lanky?”
You open your mouth to reply, but don’t want to be unnecessarily mean so you just shrug noncommittally.
“Possibly?”
Erin groans as she moves a little closer so she can whisper and not be overheard. You are a little surprised by what the brunette says but you figure you shouldn’t be. She has pets too after all, and she is the one who told you about the store in the first place.
“Oh my god. She is the worst. She’s always there when I go get something for Dex and she-.”
Erin trails off as she looks to you uncertainly before deciding that you should probably know. She was really hoping that what she had to tell you didn’t surprise you. If you were annoyed with her it was very likely that you were well aware of Claire’s creepy tendencies.
“She always asks about you, but I promise I don’t tell her anything!”
Despite the chill you feel travel up your spine at the thought of Claire being that creepy, you smile at Erin. You’re grateful that she can tell when someone’s being a creep, and that she’s smart enough to not give them anything they could use against her. It’s also nice to know that she has your back when it matters.
“Thank you for that. She’s always just a little too pushy.”
Erin frowns a this before nodding to herself and you. She decides that she was going to have to run interference if this Claire showed up again. She leaves you alone after that to go back to work, and you almost forgot that you’d texted Billie when your phone beeps. You jump slightly in surprise before looking to what she wrote.
Who is it that’s bothering you? One of your coworkers?
You look back to the messages you sent to her as if you’d forgotten and cringe at how you let Claire rile you up this much.
This bitch won’t leave me alone.
Her cat’s a little shit too.
Okay, so maybe this had been a little unnecessary. Sure Claire was kind of a bitch and annoying, but you probably shouldn’t have said this. She just wouldn’t leave you alone no matter what you did, and now she was showing up at your work? Next thing you knew she’d be showing up at your damn front door.
The part about her cat was true though. He was a little shit.
You type a response before returning to your records. You write up the last details for Claire’s cat, you’d been waiting until everything else was done before doing that, before heading downstairs. It’s almost 1:30, so you only have about half an hour until your next appointment. You take the steps two at a time going down on your way to the kennels. You see Milo sleeping and smile as he jumps up at the sound of the door opening.
“Hey, Milo. Want to go out?”
He nearly knocks you over in his excitement to get out. You curse before grabbing onto Milo’s harness to lead him outside. As soon as you reach the yard and make sure it is empty, you release Milo and watch him run away. He pees here and there before coming back to jump on the bench that you were sitting on. You sighed before standing up and grabbing a frisbee and holding it up with a smile.
“Ready?”
Milo runs after the frisbee until he’s exhausted and panting ten minutes later. He’s lying in the grass with the frisbee near his mouth because he still had to hold onto it so you wouldn’t take it from him. You walk over to him because you figure he needs to go inside for some water, but Milo grabs the frisbee when he sees you coming. He runs away despite still panting and you sigh as you watch your dog run around with his frisbee. You decide it’s a lost cause and leave him to play with it for a minute as you run inside really quickly to grab something.
You nearly run into Erin on your way inside, but you stop just in time before shooting her an apologetic look.
“Sorry, Erin.”
She waves you off before glancing outside. “Milo out there?”
You just nod and she asks if she can take the twins out there. The ‘twins’ are two golden retrievers that are boarding for about a month while their home is under construction. They’re super sweet like most goldens and Milo loves them. You smile before nodding and continuing on your way into the clinic. You don’t make it very far before you’re stopped again.
“Dr. Y/L/N!”
You turn at the sound of someone calling your name. One of the receptionists is holding a large arrangement of flowers that almost completely hides their face. You smile about to ask who they were for before she hands them to you.
“For you. Do you want me to put them in your office?”
You shoot her a confused look and it takes you a second to respond. You eventually shake you head before reaching out to take them from her. You thank her before watching as she heads back up front before you look to the flowers again.
They’re beautiful and bright and they smell wonderful. The arrangement is a mix of roses, lilies and a couple other flowers you didn’t know the name of. You were halfway up the stairs before you attempted to look for a card. It was hidden and you couldn’t pull it from the flowers easily. You set the vase down on your desk before freeing the card from the petals and flipping it over to read what was written.
Can’t wait to see you tonight.
Billie Dean.
You smile at the note before tucking it away somewhere safe. You were touched that Billie would surprise you like this and you couldn’t wait for tonight either.
It was going to be different from any of your previous dates. You were going to cook because you had been wanting to since you found out how much take-out Billie ate, and it was going to be at her house so you could see the kittens. You were only a little nervous about going over to Billie’s house again, but you were determined not to make it a big deal.
It had only been a few weeks since you met, but you hadn’t felt like how you did with Billie, with anyone else. Certainly not with your horrible exes. Billie Dean made you feel comfortable in a way that no one else ever had. She was different. Obviously because she was a medium, but honestly that wasn’t the difference that mattered to you. You hadn’t been lucky enough to be with someone that was as considerate and understanding as Billie. She never faulted you for your awkward and depressing past, and she was busier than you were so the sporadic texts and the even more sporadic dates didn’t upset her like you feared it would.
You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of yet someone else calling your name. This time however it was more frantic than you were expecting and you hurried out of your office. You’re met at the stairs by a slightly panicked Lindsey who must have been on lunch because she still had half of it in her hand.
“What’s is it? Is something wrong?”
Lindsey just hurries back down the stairs and opens the door to treatment. You follow her without question as she nods and fills you in on what’s going on.
“Milo was playing with the twins and he got stuck in the fence chasing the frisbee.”
You have to hold in your groan of disbelief because of course your overzealous and slightly impulsive dog would do this. You just mutter an okay under your breath before heading back out into the yard where you see Erin and Mina standing beside your screaming dog. He’s thrashing and trying to pull himself out, but he’s pretty stuck and really must have been running full speed.
You run over to the trio to try and calm Milo down because it seems like he really is stuck. You crouch down next to him on his right before reaching out for the panicked shepherd.
“Hey! Milo, hey, hi. It’s me, you’re okay. Shh, it’s okay, buddy.”
You reach through the bars of fence to pet Milo’s head and he calms enough for you not to be worried about him injuring himself further. You look him over quickly and don’t see any blood immediately, but then you reach his head and you see some dripping from his nose. You sigh in frustration as you try to figure out what the best thing to do is.
“Could you run inside and get a couple of towels and some lube?”
You figure that’s the best thing to get him out of this jam and you watch as both Erin and Mina leave, the latter leading the twins inside so they don’t get in the way. You turn back to your dog who is still panting in either exertion or stress, you’re not sure, and you do your best to keep him calm while you wait for your supplies.
“It’s okay Milo. You’re alright. We’re going to get you out, okay?”
Milo just whines before he turns to lick your hand that had been scratching his neck. You realize that you should probably take off his harness if you hope to slide him back through the fence, but you only get it halfway off before it becomes stuck.
“Dammit.”
Erin returns first and she stands back a little not sure if you want help before she speaks up.
“Anything I can do?”
You nod before motioning for the brunette to come closer so you can show her what you’re trying to do. If you pull on his harness while Erin pushes him away from the fence post a bit you might be able to get it off. You explain this and Erin just nods before moving to put her hands on Milo.
“Sorry buddy.”
It works but Milo yelps as you do it, so you decide to leave the other side be. Maybe you can slide him forward enough on the other side and figure it out from there. He was trapped from just behind his shoulders with most of his body still inside the yard, so maybe you could just pull him back in. When Mina arrives with the towels and what looks like all of the lube in the hospital, you relay the plan and put on the gloves that Mina luckily had the foresight to bring.
“Okay, Milo. We’re going to put this on you and try to slide you out alright?”
You know that he’s not going to respond or even really comprehend what you’re saying, but you know that hearing your voice will calm him down. He’s always been anxious when having things done to him and this was going to be worse due to the fact that he’s already highly stressed before anything has even begun.
You start to rub some of the lube on his right shoulder through the fence while Mina and Erin take his left side. Milo turns as they talk to him too, but is unable to see and growls as they touch him.
“Hey, Milo, stop that. They’re just trying to help you, okay?”
You try to keep going, you even move one of your hands to his left side but it doesn’t help. Milo just gets antsier and he’s growling louder before you realize it’s not working. You can’t be mad at him for being scared. He doesn’t know what’s going on and he can’t see them so he’s distrustful.
You make the decision to switch sides with them so he can see them and just hear you on his blind side. You berate yourself for not doing this initially because Milo immediately calms down and his tail starts to wag as you scratch him between his shoulder blades.
“Good boy, Milo. Almost done okay?”
Now that Mio is sufficiently lubed, you try and slide him back through the bars. You manipulate one of his legs forward to try and slide him backwards but he’s still too wide. You instruct Erin and Mina to do the same and Milo’s legs are stretched out as far forward as they can go before you try again. You have to readjust as Erin moves to pull him from behind, and you breathe a sigh of relief as Milo finally slides back into the yard. You hold onto him as his head whips around to see who’s at his rear end, and you look at his nose carefully before taking his harness off completely. You try to wipe off some of the lube with the towels, but it’s no use. Milo’s too excited about being freed and he’s already shaking it everywhere anyway.
“Look at you Milo. You’re a mess, huh? You need a bath.”
He just licks your face and you groan in annoyance before thanking both of your helpers. You scratch your dog behind his ears for another few seconds before you stand up and motion for him to follow you.
“No more frisbee for a while, okay?”
It turns out that Milo’s a little sorer than anticipated and after his bath he yelps when you reach underneath him to pick him up. You try again more carefully before just letting him jump up on you. You regret this immediately once all 70+ lbs of him is in your arms, but you put him down quickly as he shakes all of the water off of him. You groan in disgust before covering him with a towel and attempting to dry him off.
He whines when you put him in the kennel with the blow dryer, but you have to get to your appointment. You’ll check on him afterwards, but for now you have to go see a dog about some skin issues.
“I’ll be back Milo. Be good.”
It’s 4 before you are able to take the time to examine Milo again. You are in between appointments when you pull him out of his kennel and bring him into treatment. You brush him out because he looks like a mess and as you’re doing that you notice he’s a little sensitive along his ribs. Not that you’re shocked. He’d forced himself through a damn hole he shouldn’t have been able to fit through.
You listened to him and didn’t find anything else wrong and decided to just give him a little something for the pain that would be worse tomorrow. Your next appointment arrives as you are finishing up with him but it’s taking you a minute to get Milo to take his pill. He’s always been horrible about taking medication.
“Dr. Y/L/N. Billy’s here.”
You’re a little confused by this and you turn to Erin with a frown. You’re currently holding open Milo’s mouth to try and shove this pill down his throat when you realize what she means. Billy. The cat with arthritis.
“Right okay, what’s going on with him?”
Billie Dean checks her phone again once she’s done with work. She hasn’t heard from you yet which makes her think you’re still working. It’s nearly 6:30 which is a little late for you, but she decides to just head home and get things ready.
Other than taking care of the kittens and making sure there were clean dishes for you two to use, she didn’t have much she could do. You had refused to tell her what you were cooking and had insisted on shopping yourself. Billie was already in the car when her phone rang. She answers it without looking to see who it is because she’s driving, but she doesn’t have to wonder long.
“Hello?”
“Hi! Billie I’m so sorry for not calling you sooner! Things got crazy here. Milo got stuck in a fence, a dog came in after getting hit by a car, but thank you so much! The flowers are beautiful!”
Billie chuckles under her breath at your flustered state, but then she registers everything that you said and she frowns in concern.
“I’m glad you liked them, Y/N. Did you say that Milo got stuck in a fence? Is he okay?”
You turned around to glance in the back seat briefly to see him fast asleep. He was exhausted from his exciting day and probably would sleep the rest of the night.
“Yeah, he was having too much fun with some friends and a frisbee and ended up halfway through an iron fence.”
Billie shakes her head at the image this conjures up and she sighs as she turns into her driveway.
“Aw poor baby.”
You laugh at this before pulling up to your apartment building. You still had to go shopping to get groceries, but you had to make sure that Milo was situated first. You weren’t sure how long you would be gone and were a little stressed by this, but you would figure it out.
“Yeah, he had a rough day.”
You both were silent as you turn off your cars and consider what to say next. You were trying to figure out how much time you needed to take care of Milo and shop before you could head over to Billie’s. Billie was trying to figure out things for Milo as well, but you hadn’t even considered what she suggested.
“How was your day?”
“Do you want to bring him?”
You both speak at the same time and it takes you a second to realize what she’s said. You shake your head as you turn around to see Milo still out cold. You hoped you wouldn’t have to carry him. Again.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll just get him set up here before heading to the store.”
Billie’s already out of her car by the time she responds. She doesn’t mind either way, but she has a feeling she knows what you want to do. Not to mention, she supposes that the kittens need to be socialized and Bit possibly scared obedient. As if that would ever work.
“Would you feel better if you brought him?”                            
You don’t answer immediately which is honestly the only answer that Billie needs. You’re thinking about how you would love to bring him along because you’d be able to watch him and you could see how Milo would act around the kittens. You had always wanted a cat, and you supposed now was as good a time as any to see how it might work. Or not. As long as Billie didn’t mind.
Eventually you answer and Billie has to force herself not to smile smugly at how well she knew you already.
“I guess. I don’t want you to feel obligated though. I can’t exactly promise that he won’t get hair everywhere!”
You jump out of your car quickly before opening the back door startling Milo awake. He sits up quickly and you reach into the back seat and unbuckle him before grabbing his leash. He jumps to the ground a little more carefully than he usually would before you hear Billie reply.
“I want you to do whatever you need, Y/N. I’m fine either way. You know I adore Milo.”
You smile at this as you look to your dog who is yawning as you walk to the elevator. You suppose that you can take him with you. He might actually enjoy it. You just had to make sure he behaved and didn’t hurt any of the kittens. Billie said this before you got a chance to and you laugh as you nod in agreement.
“We’ll just have to see how he plays along with the kittens.”
You follow Milo into the elevator before leaning against the wall with a sigh. You suppose it’s decided then. You feel your excitement for tonight increasing again, now that you know Milo won’t be home alone. You just smile as the doors close and you take a deep breath.
“We will. I’ll feed him and then be over in about an hour. Does that work?”
Billie’s nodding before she greets Heather who is with Mickey in the living room.
“I’ll see you both then.”
Part 9
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