#i'm never working afternoon shift again

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 5. first date

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You are left picking up the pieces from the events of the carnival night, in more ways than you expected.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, jealousy, domestic violence and implied SA (nothing descriptive), mental and physical abuse, bar-fight type violence

WC: 6.8K

A/N: This is a tough chapter, please heed the warnings and if anyone thinks I need to add anything, please let me know

Series Masterlist

You stared listlessly at the blades of the ceiling fan swirling above your head as you listened to the town waking up outside your window. It was getting harder and harder to force yourself out of bed, the all too familiar feeling of emptiness weighing you down with each passing day.

It's been almost a week since that night at the carnival. Almost a week since you've seen him. You wished you could remember what his lips felt like, but whenever you thought about that night, all you could see was the look on his face when you finally told him the truth. His hands dropped from your waist like you had burned him. His eyes hardened like you had slapped him. And before you even had a chance to explain, he was gone.

It was a miracle you were able to make it home, tears clouding your vision as you drove down the quiet streets back to your little apartment, all alone. At first, you had tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, but after an hour, you weren't so sure anymore. So, you picked up your phone and called him. You weren't even sure what you would say, but you needed to try to make things right. It didn't end up mattering, anyway. He never answered, which should have been telling for what was to come, but you still persisted.

You called him two more times - once more that night, and again the following morning, but still he ignored your calls. Now, you stared at your phone, looking at the unanswered texts you sent, hoping he would be tempted to respond that way, but there was no such luck.

Please call me back, I want to explain.

I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.

Where are you?

The last text was sent Monday afternoon when he didn't show up at the diner for the first time since you started. Even Betty looked shocked, but you wouldn't tell her what happened. How could you?

The rest of the week was the same. Every day you glanced up at the door, hoping to see his familiar frame walk through, hoping that maybe enough time would have passed for him to give you another chance, but all week he was missing.

You overheard Tommy talking with Maria in the kitchen, asking if she had seen his brother. Was he doing this to make things worse for you? Inevitably, the truth would come out if he kept this up, and you would be left to deal with the onslaught of questions. Was he purposely trying to hurt you?

Little did you know, later that evening you would receive your answer.

It was Friday, and you were on the schedule for the dinner shift. At least you had the luxury of laying in bed, sulking with only your overpowering guilt and the enormous stuffed penguin he won for you to keep you company. You stared at it now, wondering why you didn't shove it in your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it every time you walked into your room. But you knew the answer. You were punishing yourself for being selfish, for being dishonest, for being a horrible person who deserved what she got.

Eventually around noon, you pulled yourself out of bed, hunger getting the best of you and the smells from the pizza place downstairs didn't help matters.

You got a reminder on your calendar that you were supposed to go to book club tomorrow night. Aside from work, you hadn't left your apartment all week. You had to cancel. There was no way you would be able to go through with it. You could barely muster the energy to shower, and the only reason you managed to drag yourself to work was for the money. No longer did you have anything to look forward to now that Joel made his feelings crystal clear with his absence. What little enjoyment you had in this new life was long gone.

Deciding that you should take a short walk to try to clear your head and grab a treat from the coffee shop, you tugged on jeans and a T-shirt before pulling your hair back and grabbing a pair of sunglasses before heading down the stairs. At least with the sunglasses you could avoid eye contact.

Right as you were locking up after yourself, you heard your name. You grimaced but turned around and forced a smile when you saw Hailey approaching with a friendly wave.

"Hey," you said, giving her a small hug when she got closer.

"I haven't seen you all week! Have you been sick or something?"

"Something like that," you mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses.

"I've been trying to catch you, I wanted to show you some pics from last weekend. You were there, right? I thought I saw you tagged in something," Hailey said as she scrolled on her phone, presumably looking for pictures she took from the carnival.

"Tagged?" you repeated, confused. She nodded and held up her phone, showing you the Facebook app. You shook your head and frowned.

"I'm not on Facebook," you said to her. She pursed her lips and swiped through a few images before finally stopping on a video. It was terrible lighting and the sound was awful but you could clearly see the yellow dress you were wearing as you watched Joel play the target game. Even from the shitty video you could see the obvious attraction in your eyes as you gazed at him. A chorus of cheers followed after each pull of the trigger, but your eyes remained glued to Joel's back, frozen in place.

"Isn't this your page?" she asked, clicking on your name and showing you the profile. You took the phone from her with shaky hands, scrolling through the information and pictures listed. It was you. Everything listed was correct, but you never created this page. You wouldn't have been that stupid. Then the realization hit you and your blood ran cold.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and went back to the video, noticing at the top the location was tagged along with you, Joel, and a few other people from town you barely recognized.

"Oh my god," you whispered to yourself.

"What's wrong?"

You handed her the phone back, tears burning the back of your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go," you said, turning back around to fumble with your keys. You raced up the stairs, making sure both doors were double locked before hiding in your bedroom, your phone clutched in your hand as you looked up your fake profile, trying to learn more but you already knew.

Patrick was coming for you.

You were downright terrified to work that night. If he found you, and it was just a matter of time at this point, he most likely would wait until you were alone. He would wait until he could follow you, find out where you lived, and only then would he make his move. The idea of walking home at night seemed like a really bad idea, so even though it was a ten minute walk, you chose instead to drape yourself in an oversized hoodie with sunglasses and jog to your car, glancing nervously around the parking lot for any suspicious vehicles before sliding into the driver's seat.

Anxiously, you checked your mirrors the whole short drive to the diner, but it didn't appear that you were being followed. You knew once you got to work, you would be safe. Being around other people was your only defense. Then you had the weekend off, so you could hide and figure out what to do. All you had to do was get through your shift.

The diner was busy. It was Friday, and the carnival was no longer in town, so people were going back to their regular routines. Many people in town tended to stop by for dinner before the only movie theater in town ran the 7pm showing, so that typically meant a 5:30 rush.

Fortunately, you were busy. It helped keep your mind off everything: Patrick. Joel. The mess you created everywhere you went. It was all pushed to the back of your mind as you ran around the dining room, dropping off food and wiping down tables. You hadn't even noticed the familiar voice talking to Maria at the hostess stand, even though you had been yearning to hear it all week.

You were filling the ice when you heard him somewhere behind you, and you were so relieved you almost cried. Finally, he came back and you could explain to him what happened. He was the sheriff, after all. And you trusted him. If anybody might be able to do something to help you, it was him.

You turned around with a deep breath, then froze at what you saw. Joel was seated at one of the booths, not at the counter like he typically would be, and gazing adoringly across the table at Nikki.

He was on a date.

You thought you were going to be sick. You clutched your stomach and turned away, blinking back the tears but before you could go hide in the back, Maria spotted you.

"Do you mind taking care of Joel? Gina's got too many tables," she asked. You thought you would faint the way all the blood drained from your face. All you could manage to do was nod, and she hurried back to the hostess stand, completely oblivious.

You forced your feet to move, keeping your gaze down as you pulled out your pad of paper and pen with shaky fingers and forcing a weak smile when you approached their table. You weren't sure if his intention was to have you wait on him, or if he just wanted you to see him with another woman, or maybe he didn't care about you at all. But his reaction gave you nothing to work with since he barely spared you a glance when you greeted them. However, Nikki recognized you and gave you a warm smile.

"I don't think I knew you worked here!" she said, and when Joel realized you knew each other, he finally seemed to react. A muscle in his jaw twitched when he dragged his gaze up to look between the two of you, no playfulness or warmth to be found in his eyes. You swallowed and tried to focus on your job, ignoring Joel as best you could, but Nikki spoke before you could even get the specials out.

"We know each other from book club," she explained to him before turning back to you. "Will I be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Oh, um, no I don't think so," you said nervously, feeling Joel's eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

"Oh, that's a shame! We had such a fun time last month," she said with a giggle. You had to admit, they made a good match. She was beautiful and seemed very nice. You should be happy for them both, but you knew the moment you got home, you would collapse into tears.

"You should go," Joel said gruffly, and it took all the strength you had to make yourself look at him. He no longer gave you the same look he used to, and it broke your heart. He looked at you like a stranger, like he barely even knew you. It felt more painful than anything Patrick ever did.

"Maybe I will," you said, tearing your eyes away from him. Before Nikki could say anything else, you rambled off the specials, your mind on autopilot. You ripped a hole in your paper with your pen when you saw out of the corner of your eye Nikki link her fingers with his across the table. You mumbled something about being right back and hurried off, tears welling up in your eyes.

This was too cruel. You endured a lot in your time, but this? This was too much.

As you filled up their drinks and flicked away a stray tear from the corner of your eye, you heard Joel's voice clear his throat behind you at the counter. You turned around, drinks in hand. He was leaning over the counter, trying to stay hidden from sight.

"I didn't mean for -"

"It's fine," you said coldly, staring him down. He blinked at you, and for the first time you saw a shred of guilt pass over his features. When he didn't say anything else, you shifted your weight and glanced over his shoulder at Nikki.

"You better go. Your date's looking for you."

His gaze fell and he pinched the bridge of his nose, about to say something else but you didn't let him. You could only take so much. By the time he looked back up, you were halfway across the dining room, setting down their drinks and giving your attention to your other tables.

You drove home that night with hot tears finally trailing down your cheeks, your mind completely fixated now on Joel and Nikki. It hurt how he moved on so quickly. Maybe you misread him. Maybe he was just looking for a conquest and nothing more. What else would possibly explain it? For the first time, you wondered if you were the one better off after all.

Would he kiss her goodnight? Would they have sex?

Did they already have sex?

You parked your car and hunched over the steering wheel, letting the tears flow freely now that you were home and no one was around.

A sharp rap on your window pulled you out of your misery, making you jump. You wiped your cheeks before turning to look, your eyes widening and your heart immediately getting stuck in your throat.

Patrick just shook his head in disappointment, then beckoned you out of the car with his index finger. With a shaky hand, you reached for the door handle and swung it open, sliding out of the seat and taking a deep breath. Just when you thought the day couldn't get any worse.

"When are you gonna learn I'm never gonna give up on us, babe?"

After he left, you laid there in your bed, staring up at the fan swirling above you once again and the smell of that fucking cologne permeating your sheets. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. You couldn't help but think you brought this on yourself. Maybe if you didn't go to that fucking carnival in the first place, none of this would have happened. Joel wouldn't be icing you out, Patrick wouldn't have found you, and you wouldn't be cleaning up the mess he left between your legs while you sobbed over the bathroom sink. Every time this happened you were eternally grateful for your oldest cousin back home who took you to get birth control at the local clinic behind your husband's back. If not for her, who knows how much worse things would be.

But here you were, finding yourself slipping right back into the same situation you were trying to escape. This time, he promised to go to AA and NA. He promised he would try to get better. Part of you wanted to believe him, because what other choice did you have? He would always find you. And it was encouraging he didn't insist on staying with you at your apartment, nor did he hit you. This time.

Just as you were contemplating whether or not to flee again, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You sighed and made your way over, your body and mind exhausted, the events of the day catching up with you. You lifted your phone up and froze. Blinking a few times, you sunk down into your mattress and opened up the message.

Joel: I'm sorry about earlier

You sniffled and stared at your phone, having no idea what to say. Had he just texted you the day before, or even that morning, maybe things would have been different. You decided to ignore it for now, turning your phone on silent before crawling under the covers and trying to block out the smell.

After a fitful night's sleep, the next morning you eagerly checked your phone, hoping for another text from Joel, but you only had one from Hailey. Disappointed, you opened it up, reading her message about book club that night and who was hosting. You reluctantly agreed to go at the last minute, figuring you would at least be around people for a little while, meaning you would be safe. Besides, you wouldn't be able to avoid Nikki forever. The town was too small and you were sure everyone was already buzzing about their date last night.

You swiped back to your message with Joel, staring at the words again, wondering if you should respond. What if he wasn't alone? What if Nikki spent the night with him? You put your phone down, choosing once and for all not to reply before burying yourself under the covers again.

Going to the book club meeting was a mistake. You politely declined a glass of wine, and you regretted it about twenty minutes in when Nikki began telling the whole group about her date with Joel.

You sat there, listening to every word, each one like a stab to the heart while she told all the ladies about how chivalrous he was when he picked her up, what they talked about, what movie they saw. Every minute bringing you closer and closer to tears.

That could have been you if you had just been honest with him, or maybe just stood up for yourself once in a while instead of letting Patrick steamroll you every chance he got for the past five years.

A couple women glanced your way as Nikki spoke. You had to imagine some people saw you together at the carnival. Towards the end of the night, the heat between you was palpable, but you were pretty certain nobody saw you kiss. You did your best to look indifferent, to act like Joel was just a friend and there were no feelings there, but it was hard. At one point, Hailey asked if you were okay and you had to lie about having a headache, hoping it would explain your quiet behavior.

"It was a little strange at the end of the night, though," Nikki said, finally wrapping up her story.

"How so?" one of the older ladies asked, and you could see the flush creeping up her neck before she even spoke.

"Well, he didn't seem to take my hint about coming inside for coffee when he dropped me off. Or maybe he just didn't want to..." she said, trailing off.

"Oh please, who wouldn't want to," Hailey chimed in, making Nikki giggle. "He's probably just so rusty he wouldn't know it unless you made him a big neon sign that said 'Joel, sleep with me'."

That caused a ripple of laughter amongst the women and you took a steadying breath, already planning on announcing you needed to leave early due to your fake headache when Nikki added one more piece of interesting information.

"Yeah, maybe. But even saying good night, it felt like he didn't really want to kiss me."

"But you did kiss?" another woman asked, and she nodded.

"It was... not what I expected," she admitted, pink dusting her cheeks as she took another sip of wine for courage.

"What do you mean?" Hailey asked, and you silently thanked her for being so nosy so you didn't have to ask the same questions that kept popping up in your head.

"I don't know, I thought he would be a better kisser. It was very... boring. Like, there was no passion or excitement."

All the other women murmured to themselves in shock while you remained perfectly silent. That was most definitely not the experience you had kissing Joel.

Fortunately, they moved on from the topic of Joel shortly thereafter, and you decided to force yourself to stay until the end. Given how horrible the whole week had been, you allowed yourself to feel a little bit of hope after Nikki's comment.

He didn't want to kiss her. Maybe you could still figure out a way to fix this.

Joel groaned as he rolled over in bed and snatched his phone off the charger, glaring at the device and mentally cursing whoever texted him so fucking early on a Sunday. Then his sleep addled brain jolted awake and his heart skipped a beat, wondering if your name was going to pop up on his phone again, but he was met with instant disappointment when he saw Nikki's name instead.

That couldn't be a good sign.

He should be happy to see that Nikki texted him. Deciding to blame it on the early hour and nothing more, he moved past it and set his phone back down to read the message later. He closed his eyes and sighed. Now that he was awake, all of the turmoil from the past week came rushing back to him, always plaguing his every waking moment.

He hadn't realized how much you were hurting until he finally saw you at the diner that night. It was one of his biggest regrets, taking Nikki there. He knew what he was doing, but he did it anyway, and it hurt you. But you didn't deserve that. Even though you nearly shattered his world with your secret, you still didn't deserve it.

His intention was to try to prove he wasn't as hung up on you as he really was. That it was fine that you were married. That he could move on.

It was a little cruel to go right to Nikki. He knew she had feelings for him, and he took advantage of it, all to prove he was over you. And it wasn't even true. He couldn't stop thinking about you. And now he was going to end up hurting two women, just to protect his ego.

So he decided he would try to make it work with Nikki. She was a pretty girl, she was nice and kind. Maybe, in time, he could develop real feelings for her. But when she kissed him the other night, he felt absolutely nothing. Not like what he felt when he kissed you. And that worried him.

If he knew now what he would be missing out on, could he really be happy with someone who didn't give him a fraction of what he felt with you?

He wished more than ever that he didn't let his emotions get the best of him that night. Maybe you had a reasonable explanation. He couldn't fathom what that could be, but he should have at least heard you out. You wouldn't have intentionally hurt him. In fact, you tried to tell him, in your own way. You constantly pushed him away, kept him at arms length, but he just kept coming back for more. Was it even your fault? Did he pressure you so much that you were forced to share something you weren't ready to share?

Letting his desperation win, he picked up his phone again and checked to see if you maybe texted him back in the last five minutes. When he quickly determined you didn't, he opened up Facebook. Maybe you replied to his private message on there.

Joel didn't get nervous often. He had a steady hand, a level head, and had a knack for seeing two steps ahead. He typically had a calming presence, which fit well for his job when he was able to de-escalate situations naturally and with ease.

But today, he was nervous.

For whatever reason, you didn't respond to his text message the other night, but you did decide to respond to the Facebook message he sent at an ungodly hour in the hopes he could get through to you some other way. And by some miracle, it worked.

You had agreed to meet him for coffee and talk. It was unexpected, he thought he would have to try harder, but you were very agreeable to seeing him.

He wasn't sure what he would say exactly, but he knew he wanted to apologize sincerely and give you the opportunity to explain your situation. If not to get some closure, then to at least make going back to the diner less uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath as he raked his fingers through his hair and swung open the door of the coffee shop. He glanced around the room before his eyes fell on you: hunched over and staring down at a small cup of coffee on the table in front of you.

He took a step forward, then stopped when he saw a man with a buzz cut and a beard sit down across from you. Joel didn't recognize him and he was fairly certain he could recognize just about anybody in town at this point. Something about the way you glanced up at the man across from you set his teeth on edge. You didn't smile. You didn't laugh. You looked pale and your eyes looked tired. He watched as the two of you exchanged a few words, and based on the man's body language, the mood was tense. Then suddenly, he reached his arm out across the table to grab your wrist and you jumped, fear flickering across your face. Even from this distance, Joel could see the whites of the man's knuckles as he squeezed your delicate skin under his firm grip.

Joel's nostrils flared and his jaw clenched and before he knew it, he was marching over to your table. Your eyes flicked up when you noticed him, looking like you had seen a ghost. Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you sat back in your chair. The man you were with noticed your reaction and finally loosened his grip, and you immediately tucked your hands on your lap underneath the table. He turned around and looked up with a scowl just as Joel approached.

"Everythin' alright here?" Joel asked, staring at you. You opened your mouth to reply, but the man across from you stood up, cutting you off.

"Everything's just great, Joel," he said with a sneer. Joel tore his eyes away from you to regard the man you were with. He looked him up and down, sizing him up, before answering.

"Sorry, have we met?"

"In a way," he said, crossing his muscular arms across his chest. Joel glanced at you again, but you were just staring down at your coffee cup, refusing to look at either of them.

"Don't look at her, look at me," he said, and Joel's head snapped back around with a glare.

"Excuse me?"

That was when Joel smelled the man's cologne. The same one Sarah bought for him. The same one you told him you were sensitive to. The wheels began turning in his head as he tried to put the pieces together.

"Patrick," you said quietly, trying to calm them both down when you felt other customers giving you curious looks.

"Shut up," he growled at you, still staring at Joel. Joel stiffened, the anger building low in his stomach, but he fought to keep a clear head.

"Hey, take it easy," Joel tried to interject, but Patrick scoffed. As his anger began to rise, Joel could see his neck splotching with red and veins popping out under his reddened skin.

"Don't stand there and act like you haven't been fucking my wife!" Patrick all but shouted, pulling the attention of everyone in the coffee shop now. Joel balked and took a step back.

"You've got it all wrong, we've never-"

"Patrick, I'm not sleeping with him, get a grip!" you snapped, finally standing up from the table.

"The hell you aren't. Why's he sending you messages in the middle of the night on Facebook saying he misses you and he's sorry and he needs to see you?" Patrick asked, turning on you now.

Your jaw dropped and your cheeks flushed pink, your surprised gaze bouncing between the two men and that was when Joel figured it out. Patrick lured him there to cause a fight, and you looked to be completely in the dark.

Joel glanced around nervously at all the onlookers now, murmuring amongst themselves, gossip he was sure would spread to the ends of town before noon.

"Listen, why don't we go outside and calm down. I can explain, it's not what it looks like," Joel said, lowering his voice.

"I'm staying right here," Patrick said, sitting back down in his chair and jutting his chin out with a glare. He seemed hellbent on doing this his way, and Joel was not in the mood.

"You're disturbin' the peace. These people are tryin' to enjoy their mornin' here. Either come outside with me, or we can do this a different way," Joel replied, pulling the hem of his shirt up to flash the gold star on his belt. Patrick laughed, then leaned over to grab his wallet out of his back pocket, showing Joel his own badge.

"Philly PD. 9th precinct. Wanna try that again, sheriff?"

That bit of information stunned Joel, momentarily at a loss for words.

"Hell, honey, at least you got a type," Patrick muttered to you, putting his wallet away. You grimaced and dropped your head between your shoulders, looking defeated.

"Either way, I gotta ask you to leave," Joel said, standing his ground. He could see the flush rising up Patrick's neck again, his fingers curling into a fist on the table before you stepped to stand between the two men.

"C'mon, Patrick. Let's go," you urged, holding your hand out shakily. Patrick slowly turned his head to look up at you. There was no love in his eyes. No affection or care. All Joel could see was raw anger.

"Why don't you come down to the station with me. We can talk this out, hm?" Joel asked him calmly, not feeling comfortable letting you leave with this man. You turned your head to the side, your eyes unable or unwilling to meet his.

"I got it, Joel. I'm sorry," you said softly over your shoulder.

Joel watched Patrick stand up and mock you under his breath before snatching your hand and pulling you roughly to his side, leading you out the front door. He was scrambling to find another reason to keep you from walking out of there, but he was too late. The pair of you were already halfway down the block by the time Joel was able to gather himself and walk out the door.

He stood on the sidewalk with his hands on his hips, watching as Patrick nearly dragged you up the street. You managed to turn your head once to look at him, your eyes wide and filled with worry before you turned the corner, disappearing from sight.

Nikki was talking his ear off, all bubbly and excited as she led Joel into one of the few bars in town. A blind man could see she was trying too hard. She was the one who came up with the idea of drinks, turning down dinner beforehand, and wearing one of the shorter dresses he's seen on a woman in a long time.

He realized about half an hour into the night it must have been a real blow to her self esteem when he turned her down after their first date because she was hanging all over him, pushing her chest against him every chance she could and even encouraged him to do a shot with her. He entertained the idea once but stopped her after that. He wasn't lying when he told you he wasn't much of a drinker, and he certainly wasn't interested in having meaningless, sloppy sex with Nikki, so he tried to slow her down and distract her.

"C'mon, why don't we order you somethin' to eat?" Joel said, flagging down the bartender for a menu, but Nikki shook her head and pouted.

"I'm hungry, but not for food, Joel," she whispered in his ear, then brazenly slid her hand over his thigh to try to cup him over his jeans. His hand shot down and grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doin'?" he asked with a nervous chuckle, and she groaned, pulling her hand back to wrap her arms around his shoulders instead.

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied, leaning forward to nibble on his ear. He made a face and untangled her arms from around him, pulling her back to her own stool.

"Listen, Nikki-"

A roar of laughter and some broken glass from the other side of the crowded bar caught Joel's attention. It was a Sunday night, but it was busy. There was a big football game on above the bar and it seemed to pull in all the men in town that evening. It was no wonder Joel didn't notice Patrick until that point.

He watched him through the throngs of bodies as he stumbled around the pool table with a couple other younger men from town. He looked like he was wasted: his eyes were bloodshot, his pupils blown wide, and his face was bright pink. Nikki followed Joel's gaze and turned back to him, confused.

"Who's that?" she asked, but Joel ignored her and instead waved down the bartender again.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked, wiping his hands with a worn out rag.

"What's goin' on over there, Hank?" Joel asked, nodding in Patrick's direction, watching as he grabbed the ass of a blonde girl heading to the bathroom.

"He's been here for hours," Hank said, leaning across the bar to keep his voice as low as possible. "I started waterin' down his drinks around 5, but he keeps gettin' worse and worse. Told one of his friends there to take him outside, I think he's too far gone and won't take kindly to me askin' him to leave."

Joel nodded and continued to watch. His skin looked red and his hair looked damp with sweat.

"What's wrong?" Nikki purred in his ear, trying to get his attention back on her, but he shook his head.

"Somethin' ain't right," he mumbled.

"I think he's married to that new waitress at the diner," Hank continued. Nikki sat back in her seat and said your name, her eyes beginning to clear. Hank snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

"Yep, that's the one. Was sayin' some real god awful stuff earlier 'bout her to those guys. Now you know I hear my fair share of bawdy talk 'round here, but this was enough to even make me blush."

Joel cursed under his breath and stood up from his stool. Nikki grabbed his arm and frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"Just gonna have a talk with him," Joel said, shrugging her hand off as he pushed his way through the crowd. As Joel approached the pool table, Patrick's drunken gaze fell on him and he smirked.

"Well, look who it is boys," Patrick said, his voice too loud as he stumbled to lean against the wall. "If it ain't the sheriff of this here wild west." Patrick laughed at his own joke, but the other three men he was with quieted down when they saw Joel.

"I think you oughta head home. Seems like you've had enough this evenin'," Joel said, his voice steady.

"I don't think I like you telling me what to do," Patrick said, his smile slipping as he pushed off the wall and took a few steps forward. One of the younger men that was playing pool with Patrick set his cue down on the table and spoke up.

"Hey man, let's just head out - "

"Shut the fuck up, I'll handle this asshole," Patrick turned and yelled, causing the whole bar to go quiet. Joel took a deep breath and reached behind him for his handcuffs.

"I don't fucking think so," Patrick said, his eyes locked on Joel's hand, but Joel just shook his head.

"You ain't givin' me much of a choice," he replied, but before he could blink, Patrick reared back and swung, his meaty fist coming in direct contact with Joel's chest, momentarily knocking the air out of his lungs. Luckily, Patrick was too drunk and missed Joel's face. But Joel was still relatively sober, and therefore much quicker. He lunged forward and clocked Patrick right in the nose, making him stumble backwards clutching his face with a pained howl.

People scattered out of the way, some men calling out to Patrick, telling him to stop, but most were just encouraging the fight with drunken excitement.

Once Patrick got his bearings, he ran forward at full speed, aiming to knock Joel down to the ground but he dodged him with ease and instead sent him flying head first into an empty table. He rolled over with a groan, blood trickling from his nose, a bright purple bruise already forming under his eye.

Joel leaned over him with a grin.

"You done?"

Patrick just groaned again, his hands coming up to rub his head. Joel took the opportunity to snatch his wrist and twist him around on the floor. Pressing his knee into Patrick's back, he pulled his other arm around and handcuffed him before pulling out his cell and dialing the number for the station.

Once Joel loaded Patrick into the back of Bobby's cruiser, telling his deputy to book him and he would deal with it in the morning, the rest of the bar went back to watching the football game, the excitement now over and done with. Joel scanned around and found Nikki seated exactly where he left her, but she looked less than pleased. He sighed and pushed his way through the crowd, back to his date.

"Hey, sorry 'bout -"

"I think I'm ready to leave, Joel," she said curtly, standing up and snatching her purse from the bar.

"Alright," he said. He led her outside and was heading to his truck when she stopped in front of a waiting car. He turned to look at her, confused.

"I asked a friend to come get me," she explained, and Joel slowly nodded.

"Hey, I'm sorry 'bout tonight, but sometimes the job just gets in the way."

"Was it the job, Joel? Or was it her?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He paused, unsure what to say as he averted his gaze. She looked down at her feet and took a breath before bringing her eyes back up to him.

"This isn't going to work out, is it?" she asked softly. Joel forced himself to look at her again and after a moment, shook his head. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and he immediately felt guilty. He took a step forward but she sniffled and stepped further away.

"I don't know why I couldn't see it. The whole fucking town sees it. Even after what happened at the coffee shop this morning... I just hoped..." she trailed off and wiped a stray tear from her eye.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and he truly meant it. He didn't want to hurt her and he felt like shit that it had to come down to this.

"It's fine. I'll get over it," she said, trying to sound strong before turning to her friend's car and sliding into the front seat. He almost reached out, almost asked her to stay, but he stopped because it would have been cruel and selfish. He was only looking to assuage his own guilt. Instead, he watched the car back up and leave the parking lot, a pit growing in his stomach now that he was alone.

He knew it was the right thing to do, that he had to be honest with Nikki. At least he didn't lead her on, and he hoped he didn't hurt her feelings too badly, but he still felt like an asshole.

Then his thoughts drifted to you. What happened today after the coffee shop? Even though the guy was an asshole, it didn't change the fact you were married and he couldn't have you. What was he supposed to do? Pine away for you his whole life? Would he really ever be content with just being your friend?

And what the hell was he going to do with Patrick? He could charge him with assaulting an officer, that should keep him in jail for a few days until he posts bail, but would he ever see any charges actually stick? Or would he make a few phone calls and have them disappear?

He didn't anticipate this ever being a problem. He's never had to deal with another lawman on the receiving side of his job.

He was entering uncharted territory.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #sheriff!joel #STR fic #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal

[kithtaehyung]

would u? (3tan717) | myg

3tan717 drabble #1: would u? pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: you see a certain fruit-centered trend online.. and decide to test it on yoongi note: i am so so so sorry this is out on the very last day of feb but things have been absolute bananas lately! tbh i’m surprised this is even getting posted on time and i have even more to do after this is shared but eff it shibal!!! note 2: as promised, this is dedicated to the people that submitted the answers i’m using for this drabble: anon, grapes / @yoongrace, and apryl @aprylynn for this idea hehehe! also i literally just finished this so it's legit unedited so i'm sry for any mistakes! off to go prep for events now! warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, working yoongi??, kitchen, period cramps suck but yoongi to the mf rescue drop date: feb 29th, 2024, 10:03pm est word count: 2.3k

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Ugh. 

Why does this have to happen every fucking month. Why can’t it happen every three? Or six? Or never ever ever? 

Groaning, you roll over, burying your face into the pillow on Yoongi’s side. 

To some degree, you feel placated, probably due to his scent still lingering next to your dismay. He had to get up early to finish a track, but he assured you can be in the room. 

You can hear a little bit of what he’s working on as it bleeds through his headphones, and even just this sliver of sound gives you chills. Not just because of what it sounds like, but the sole fact that Yoongi’s letting you even listen in the first place. 

Huffing out a bit of amusement, you remember the last time Yoongi let you stay while he worked—albeit at his place while he went to the studio. 

Damn, how much you’ve grown since then. All those memories, those quiet times and tumultuous times, everything leading up to now. How time has molded you with knowing hands. 

However, no matter how much has changed all these months, some things have not wavered, like the fact that you needed to be sure he was okay with it—and his answer making you absurdly shy. 

Did he really have to say that you’re either staying or he’s gonna leave? That scheming motherfucker! 

Some drum beats hit your cheek before you realize the menace himself is playing multiple different ones. It’s only a couple hits before he moves onto the next, and you’re about to lift your hea—

“Fuck, where the hell is that kick?” 

Your laugh is stifled by cotton. As tickled as you are to hear Yoongi like this, you don’t wanna do anything to distract him. 

But by doing so, that causes your body to tighten and fuck, it hurts. It hurts to move, it hurts to laugh, it hurts to just exist. God, you want him to come back and join you so bad, but you don’t wanna be that person. 

…Yet. Maybe if it gets so bad you can’t even sleep? 

“Found you! Fucking finally. Thought you could hide from me, huh?” 

Oh, fucking hell, he’s adorable. 

Yeah, there’s no way you’re making him drop everything right now. This is too precious of an afternoon to stop. 

Exhaling a mile long breath, you fight through your pain and feel for your phone, groaning as you shift yourself. When in position under sheets and warm sunlight, you cycle through apps as a distraction. 

Scrolling. Scrolling. Smiling at some animal videos a bit before scrolling again. 

After all of five minutes, you start to see a trend on your feed, and suddenly get the idea to try it on Yoongi. It’s simple and harmless, right? 

You [3:30pm]: would u peel an orange for me 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, and you lift your head slightly to see if he looks at his phone. 

When he does, he checks it really quick before setting it back down on his desk, back to clicking on his screen. 

Ah. Damn. He must really be in the zone because… 

Uhh. 

Blinking, you watch as Yoongi rolls his chair out to get up, setting his glasses down and heading out of the room with a light swing of his chains. 

Uh. What just happened? Did you upset him? You’re so stunned that his swift exit has you wanting to get up and follow him.  

But ow. Ouch. It’s maddening how much your cramps are getting to you. 

Bearing the punches to your gut, you start sliding out of the bed, straining and sucking in sharp breaths just to stand and pull Yoongi’s comforter over your tension. 

Padding out the bedroom, your worries make your steps tiny and heavy, and you regret sending that text because you literally just said you weren’t… gonna…

On the dining table—quiet—lie three tangerines, peeled and placed next to vibrant scraps while your lover peels a fourth with diligent, devoted hands. 

And you can’t even form words that match how you feel. 

Your vision swims right as Yoongi looks your way, his body stilling before he puts the fruit down. 

When he approaches with concern, you answer his silent questions through hiccups, “I—I thought you left cus—you were mad.” 

“Huh?” 

“I don’t even know,” you swallow, gesturing to all of your lower half and feeling him hold the slipping blanket. “It’s just… this, I guess.”

“Does it hurt?” 

“Like a motherfucker.” 

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, doll. Hold up.” Handing you the comforter, Yoongi goes to his cabinets in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of medicine before walking it over. “You gotta take something as soon as you feel it. Don’t let it get this bad.”

“I know,” you groan, resting your head on his shirt and inhaling his healing presence. “I didn’t wanna bother you.” 

Your forehead is kissed. “You’re not bothering me. Especially with something like this.” 

“Okay.” 

He walks away again to grab some water, and you watch as he pours some into an electric kettle before starting it up. 

Glancing back at the fruit, you sigh, clutching the bottle of pills while feeling the weight of his comforter. He’s probably not pleased with the way it might drag on the ground, so you gather it and pick the end chair to sit on. 

And then you sigh, “Sorry for making you peel those. I didn’t even plan on eating anything.”  

“Too bad. You’re gonna eat what I make you anyway.” 

Wait, he’s cooking? He has work to do! “You’re working, though. Don’t worry about me right now.” 

“It’ll be quick.” 

“What are you making?” 

A glass bowl and pan are procured from random places before Yoongi blinks in place. “Uhh.. You’ll see.” 

As he clunks them onto his counter and stove, you watch with hearts for eyes as he bustles around the kitchen space. Even doing things as simple as washing his hands, opening his fridge, and simply grabbing a knife gives you pause. 

And this is when you realize that you can watch Yoongi do absolutely anything and be amazed. 

Even when he stands, watching you with a look that’s wait why doesn’t he look—

“Take the medicine, baby girl.” 

Oh. 

Snapping out of your trance, you nod. “Sorry.” 

Yoongi continues to give you glances until you swallow down the painkillers, satisfied enough to continue his cooking venture when you take the second one. 

As the sun paints the apartment in marigold and light, you keep watching with a smile as he brings the kitchen to life. Butter sizzles in a pan, tangerines are getting halved on a board, and something is getting mixed with a whisk. 

Who knew that the neighborhood fuckboy would have a whisk on hand? Not the younger you, that’s for damn sure. 

But here Yoongi is, in the flesh, whisking away with veiny forearms that have you thinking the most absurd thoughts during this time of the month. The only thing that would cut through the raging horniness would be getting up to see what the hell he’s making. 

It’s starting to smell familiar though. But he put the tangerines in the pan so you don’t even know what to expect right now. 

Walking up—blanket left behind—you observe the kitchen before peering over his broad shoulder. “Mm.. Smells like pancakes.” 

Yoongi doesn’t answer, but when you see the consistency of the batter, you realize you’re correct. “Oh, it is! I’m smart.” 

“You are,” he laughs. “But you didn’t get it all the way right.” 

“No?” 

“Nope.” Yoongi then gently gets you to move before he pours the batter over the slices, and you crane your neck to watch as he evens it all out. “Just one tangerine pancake.”

“Oh, okay,” you scoff, earning a laugh at your side. “Whatever, chef.” 

“We’ll see what you say in a bit.” 

Is he gonna leave it or flip it? Probably the latter. 

“K. Gonna flip that once it’s done.” 

Nice. You smile to yourself, loving how you’re starting to really be on the same page. Nudging him, you keep watching as he lowers the heat and sets the lid on the pan. “What now?” 

“We wait,” he responds, dusting his hands together before cleaning up his mixing bowl. “And I’m gonna see if we have any sugar.”

Damn it, Yoongi cannot keep saying that two-letter word. It’s starting to be detrimental to your health. “I can help.” 

“S’ok,” he assures, nose upturned. “Just watch me work.” 

“Oh, I’m very good at doing that.” 

At this, Yoongi turns and gives you a smile that immediately reminds you of summer, and you almost feel like crying again. 

“I’ve actually never tried this, but. We’ll see if this works.” 

With nothing snarky, or teasing, or fake to say, you reply with a smile and a genuine, “I’m sure it will.” 

When he keeps staring, his eyes lower to your lips, and you don’t care that you probably look like a wreck, or feel like one. Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you glow. 

If only the kettle didn’t decide this was the moment to stop boiling. 

You were probably about to get the kiss of your life. 

But Yoongi halts in his tracks before shifting to get a mug, setting it down with a thud before checking on the pancakes. Pancake. Whatever that delicious-smelling thing is gonna be. 

“There’s some tea packets in that right drawer. Help yourself cus I’d rather you pick.” 

Chuckling, you oblige before scooting over. After seeing a small jar of granules on the counter, you start rummaging through the drawer, exploring the various options while hearing the sound of a plate behind you. 

Ah, Yoongi’s flipping it. 

As you turn, you’re just in time to watch the muscles in his back protrude through his shirt as he flips the pan, impressed as he sets the plate down because holy hell that looks great. 

“Sugar, sugar, sugar… Suga, suga, suga.” 

Laughing, you interrupt his silly search as you grab the jar you just saw. “Suga suga, how you get so fly?”

Yoongi stops to see what’s in your hand, and he huffs through a grin before grabbing it. “Thanks, doll.” 

You keep humming the song that’s now wedged into your head as you watch him sprinkle bits on the pancake. 

“I don’t have a blowtorch,” he admits, “But I do have this.” 

Rolling out a drawer, Yoongi takes out a long lighter before holding it to the sugary top, humming the same song you were just singing without even knowing it. As the sugar slowly but surely heats, you both keep humming and basking in a calm afternoon. 

And you don’t even feel the pain anymore. 

“Go ahead and sit, babe.” 

“You sure?” 

“Uh huh.” 

Following instructions, you make your way to the table, cocooning yourself in his comforter again as you await the cutest meal you’ve had in weeks. Months. Lifetimes. 

Speaking of lifetimes… You hope every version of you meets every version of him. No matter when. No matter where. Because you want every version of yourself to find happiness, and Yoongi has been the one to help you finally find it. 

And he certainly passed whatever the hell this orange theory thing was supposed to be. 

Plates are set down to break you out of introspection, and you glance up with eyes sparkling. 

When Yoongi raises a brow, you just smile. When he asks what’s gotten into you, a chuckle escapes before you shake your head, 

“Nothing, baby. Just didn’t expect all this from that text.” 

As he plops into the next chair, you love the way the sun settles on his skin. Highlights his hair. Shimmers in his eyes. 

“Don’t even need to ask, babe.” He captures your attention with a calm look. “I was waiting for any distractions anyways.” 

So this was for him, too? Good. 

Grabbing your fork, you giggle. “Sounded like you were having a little trouble over there.” 

“I was! This is what I get for not saving my shit.” 

Both of you sit back in laugher as you throw your hands out. “Do that!” 

“I’m lazy!” 

“Tough shit!” 

“I know!” 

Grinning, you loll your head before waving your fork out. “You’re gonna save those sounds, and you’re gonna remember this day and thank me.” 

Yoongi just tightens his lips in a smile, eyes creased and glimmering. “Maybe.” 

“Yes. I’ll stand there and watch you until you do it.” 

"Really.."

For the rest of the afternoon—with full bellies and clear minds—you rest on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, forcing him to find the files he needs and watching him groan his way through saving everything. 

Constantly laughing at the ridiculously random names he’s assigning them.

When he’s done, you watch as he spins around in his chair, heart thumping with anticipation as you’re met with a waiting pair of eyes.

Breathtaking. 

When he leans in, you feel incredibly shy. Always, always, always. This will forever remain the same.

And—just as well—Yoongi's kisses will forever taste like tangerines. 

Three of them, to be exact. 

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fin. :)

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how did the first 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe

a/n: nothing much to say other than i love y'all so much! i will try responding to anything when i can (there's literally still all the 3tan12 feedback to get to) but i do read all the commentary sent in and it keeps me going strong :'))) so thank you again for being here and being amazingly patient with me. off to work on more things but i shall be back once the wild weeks are over!

a/n 2: suga suga how you get so flyyyy hahaha

#ahhhh here we go! #3tan717d1 #3tan717 #bts fic #bts imagines #*ryenfictalk #bts reactions #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #three tangerines #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #*latest #ryenwrites #bts fluff

[glitter-epoch]

Hiii, always love to see people obsessing over love and deepspace (bc I'm addicted too), can I please request zayne fic about his hands and fingers? Can be suggestive, can be pure smut, up to you lol, ok thanks byee

HIII yes i can!!! i can't believe my first request is a zayne's hands request this feels like a gift. thank you for requesting i hope you like!!!

[ there’s a part 2 now :) ] ☄. *. ⋆ gn! reader | 2.8k words | suggestive, not smut | zayne gives reader stitches but it's deliberately not described in detail/no mentions of needles/blood

“my lunch break ends in fifteen minutes,” zayne had said, staring past your head in thought. “it would be a waste of time to check you in.” 

you stood there in the bustling lobby of akso hospital, one paper-towel-bound hand pressed to the sliced skin over your hipbone, and waited. surely he wasn’t telling you to just leave. you were only friends, so it’s not like he had an obligation to you; but he was your primary care doctor, and...

and. there was, is, an and. you’re not sure what exactly to call it, and zayne is so adonis-like you’re embarrassed to even suggest he might like you.  

“i’m sorry,” you said in earnest, a little surprised by his usual coldness that you’d arrogantly assumed would thaw upon seeing your injury. “i didn’t mean for you to drop everything for me. i should have gone to an urgent care, or something, i just thought since you’re here...” 

zayne looked down from the spot over your head, clearly removed from his pensive mood. his intention to argue with you was clear, but he held his tongue stonily until you finished your rambling. 

“no,” he replied. “you should never go to another doctor. i was just thinking.” 

you blushed like an idiot. “ever?” you mocked. 

“mm,” he murmured, back to thinking again. he brought his forearm to circle the small of your back, not touching, and motioned you forward. “come with me.” 

and now, here you are: sitting on the grey sofa in front of the wall-length window, early afternoon light bleeding white all over zayne’s office. for a few moments, he’s left you alone to gather materials, and you relish in what feels like a small victory. 

i’ve been personally invited to the office.  

not like it’s the first time, though.  

zayne returns with a small kit swallowed by the size of his pale hands; the sleeves of his button-down pinned up to his elbows. you shift, balancing your weight unnaturally on one leg. His eyes snag on you as he grabs his glasses from his desk (far taller than the tabletop, he must lean down to grab those, too). 

“lay down,” zayne commands.  

you blink, glancing around to try to figure out the most convenient position to get into for him to work. by the time he’s come over and sat down on the glass table in front of you, you’re still sitting up. 

“you can put your head on the armrest and your feet that way,” he nods, not a hint of impatience in his deep voice. “i can see you squirming. when you sit up like you are, you’re putting pressure on the wound. it must hurt.” 

“i haven’t even shown you the wound,” you retort, not sure why you’re arguing so much- and swallowing a wince as you turn to prop your head up on the side of the sofa.  

“i see your handywork,” zayne replies. he pulls on a pair of blue latex gloves and they snap quietly against his wrists. he’s clearly careful not to let the noise be too loud. “hm.” 

you frown in place of a (shameful) gulp at the sight of the gloves hugging his hands.  

“is this bad?” you ask. “i’m sorry. i tried not to mess with it too much.” 

zayne pieces through the small kit on the table beside him. even his rummaging is succinct; long fingers deftly parsing through the stack of metal utensils inside. he comes up with two sets of narrow pliers and a cotton round.  

he passes the pliers through his fingers like pencils, balancing them between his knuckles, and pours a solvent that looks like lens cleaner onto the cotton pad. 

“not bad,” he says, eyes on the pliers as he polishes them. “the paper towel is fine. but you got it wet beforehand.” 

“and that’s bad?” 

“you’ll be alright,” he murmurs- or maybe he always sounds like that- and discards the cotton round. the corners of his lips just barely curl. “you won’t die, i suppose.” 

“well, i’d hope not. it’s just a cut.” 

“and what did you do this time?” zayne demands softly, fishing in the kit for what you now realize will be sutures.  

“i had an assignment with xavier and failed to climb a fence.” 

“you impaled yourself, then,” he remarks coldly. “and xavier.” 

he sets a roll of sterile surgical threads on a wider cotton pad and turns his eyes to your midriff, which is still mostly covered by your shirt; wound hiding beneath it.  

“xavier, yeah,” you inhale deeply, mentally preparing for the stitches. “my partner. i’ve mentioned him, i think.” 

“yes, you have,” zayne says. his voice is strained. then he inhales, a whole breath through his nose, mouth closed in stoic secrecy; and nods to your hips. “lift your shirt, please.” 

you’re grateful that he’s given you a task and you don’t have to look him in his eyes after that tiny display of disdain (for your partner? for your hips? hopefully the former?). But as you lift your shirt, the paper towel comes loose. 

“ouch,” you hiss. 

you realize you’re probably stressing him out.  

“it’s not bad,” you add, uncharacteristically hoarse. 

“it’s not,” zayne agrees softly, eyeing the wound with his usual cold stare. his eyes refuse to flicker above or below the cut, which rests just over the shallow ridge of your hipbone, right above the line of your trousers. “but it hurts, i'm sure.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

“sure,” he repeats, almost as if to mock you, almost as if he’s just making sure he heard you right.  

zayne busies himself preparing a cotton round of saline, and in the middle of this, says, 

“you’ll have to unbutton your pants. can you fold the waistband over?” 

your neck is suddenly clammy. “oh. yeah, sure.” 

“if you can’t fold them down far enough, you’ll have to take them off.” 

your eyes blow out like glass. 

zayne, whom you suspected might have been deliberately extending the length of his cotton-round-preparing, is surprisingly the one to smile first. almost wickedly. “i would get you a cover, of course.” 

“oh, how nice of you.” 

he laughs barely, an exhale from his nose. you unbutton your trousers, fabric shifting against metal.  

he inhales at the sound. 

the blue latex over his knuckles catches light from the windows. you watch moments later as he threads the sutures, fascinated by how efficient his hands are. they’re longer than they are wide, and slender, not bear-like; but big nonetheless. and yet his fingers move like knitting needles, never missing a beat, never shaking. “would you like to do it yourself?” zayne asks suddenly. 

his voice is like a hum, always vibrating in his chest. 

you bristle. “god, no.” 

“then why are you staring?”  

you’re hoping he won’t finish on that very word, but he does, and he looks at you with his usual resolve of steel. you decide that no answer is the only good answer, and instead say, 

“okay. good luck. don’t mess up, please.” 

he chuckles and leans over you, the breadth of his sharp shoulders blocking the sun. “i never mess up.”   

the words ‘mess’ and ‘up,’ are foreign on his tongue, like he’d never refer to a mistake so casually, like he’s never made one in his life. he probably hasn’t, you think. 

zayne lifts up the cotton round, which is practically the size of a pea in his hand. “i’m going to clean around it. the solution may sting, but not much. it will be over fast.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

he chuckles again. “sure,” he hums, and then, before he presses down, “here.” 

he swipes the cotton round over your hipbone, startlingly light. goosebumps rise instantly on your flesh. his fingers are icy, even through the gloves; they radiate cold like a lamp radiates heat.  

zayne is kind enough not to mention your instant squirming and moves quickly to start the sutures. 

“this will be fast, too,” he says, looking unwaveringly into your eyes. like he’s trying to will the fear out of you. “not as fast as that, but faster than you’d imagine.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

“there it is again,” he smiles. “sure.” 

you grin incredulously. “i don’t know what else to say. you’re about to stab me.” 

his smile is thin and almost prideful as he grabs his glasses and slips them on. he leans over your hips, then looks up at you; pushing them up the bridge of his nose. 

“aren’t you glad it’s me, at least, and not some stranger?” 

you’re busy inhaling and exhaling like a horse, trying to calm down. “i am glad it’s you, yes.” 

your desperation throws him and his jaw sets like a stone, adam’s-apple bobbing.  

“alright,” zayne says, nearly whispering. “now.” 

he begins the sutures. you gasp, instantly, at first through your nose and then through your mouth; which pops open unwittingly. it’s nearly a whine. 

“i know,” zayne murmurs, leaning back a tiny bit as he works; so his face is visible to you. “i’m sorry.” 

“it’s okay.” 

you bite down hard and screw your eyes shut, but all you do is flinch each time his fingers move. he stops almost instantaneously, like pulling the plug on a treadmill. 

“look at me,” zayne says, deep voice rumbling against your thigh.  

you peel one eye open and then the other. 

“i know it hurts,” he says gently. “but you can’t move. i could seriously hurt you.” 

“sorry, sorry,” you nod. “i know.” 

the pools of his eyes are clear. he’s resolute in his instructions as he speaks, every word confident. 

“breathe the entire time, through every suture. i can work while your stomach moves; i can’t work if you’re flinching away.” 

“okay.” 

his brows lift. “okay?” 

again, you nod. “okay. i’m sorry.” 

“no apologies,” zayne says. 

he presses his hand flat to the side of your belly that’s unharmed, the tips of his long fingers just barely curling around the slope of your waist. you inhale slowly at that, blinking rapidly. his hand is cool as glass.  

you panic, as if he can somehow feel the coil that winds up in your stomach; watching his fingers splayed across your navel.  

“i’m going to try again,” he says. you can feel the words all the way down to his fingertips. then his thumb moves, caressing the skin just over your waistband. “breathe.” 

well, i can’t now. 

“got it,” you grind out. 

“good,” zayne hums. “three, two, one...” 

and it starts again. you bite down, tongue taut to the roof of your mouth. 

“don’t,” zayne warns, stern as ever, but his fingers keep working. “breathe. i can see whether you’re doing it.” 

the coil in your stomach tightens. you peel your eyes open and watch him work, knuckles grazing over the soft, thin flesh that’s been revealed from behind the waistband of your trousers.  

his eyes flash away from your navel as you start to watch. moments later, you’re stunned to see how laser-focused he is, pupils never moving from your cut.  

“do you ever get nervous doing this?” you ask, apt to make the time pass faster by talking. like your mouth isn’t wet just watching him do his job. “are you nervous?” 

“no.” his reply is instant. “i’ve done this hundreds of times.” 

you’re stunned. “i would be nervous.” 

“you are nervous,” zayne murmurs. “close your eyes.” 

the ball of his wrist presses into the juncture of your hipbone.  

“no,” you gasp. too fast. 

zayne’s fingers slow, utensils suspended. he looks up at you, somehow feeling taller still. “no?” 

you shake your head. “i-i don’t like not knowing what you’re going to do next.” 

oh, sure.  

he’s stopped working at this point, watching you like a hawk. “then i’ll tell you what i’m going to do before i do it.” 

“that’s okay,” you exhale. i’m dying. 

zayne’s eyes rove over yours, not unkind, but uncaring about how visible his assessment of you is. clinical, even still. the corners of his lips curl up.  

you’re not sure how it’s possible for your stomach to drop while laying flat on your back, but it does; your ears hot as irons.  

he goes back to work without another word. you’re so embarrassed, you finally shut your eyes and let your head weigh on the armrest until he’s done. 

“alright,” zayne says. “that’s it. don’t move.” 

you keep your eyes shut, nodding. “i really can’t thank you enough, i-” 

“watch.” 

for a moment, you lay there. then you open your eyes, peering down at him, too uncertain to be shocked yet. “what?” 

zayne takes his small kit from the table and places it on your lap. you startle, blink, as he sifts through the contents of it. gloves still on.  

“this is another cleanser,” he hums, his voice uncharacteristically musical. “i’m going to clean around the sutures.” 

you stare incredulously at him. “...okay.” 

he’s not fooled by your aloofness. zayne’s right hand works slow circles with a cotton round around your cut; the other comes down flat to keep the waistband of your trousers from getting in his way. both are cold to the touch; never quite warming.  

your jaws come apart and you barely manage to stop your mouth from falling open as discards the cotton round and takes the corner of your waistband into his hand. 

he buttons your trousers; pulls the zipper up. 

you watch like a fool. then, when he’s done, and you think you’ll have to admit to what you’re thinking, he furrows his brows at your face.  

“did you cut yourself here, too?” he murmurs. 

“where?” you croak. 

zayne shakes his head and slowly peels off the gloves; letting them slide slowly off his fingers. “mm. here.” 

he reaches forward and spreads fingers to cup your temples. one thumb glides over your browbone, low enough that you can see it; four or five times before removing his kit from your hips and leaning back.  

you exhale harshly and move to sit up, wondering if you’ll be able to somehow flee the office without another word. 

“not yet,” zayne says. “lay back again. you don’t have to put your head back; just lean back.” 

and you do it, instantly, because...well, because.  

zayne pulls a rectangular gauze pad with an adhesive border from the small kit. then he leans forward- he'd be positioned between your legs, if you opened them- and pulls your shirt up once more. 

as he presses the bandage over your sutured wound, it seems like even he can’t look at you. but his usually statuesque expression is lifted with amusement, plus something more sinister.  

“you like to watch me work,” he hums. 

his fingers dip under your waistband to smooth the bandage over. 

“shut up,” you bite. 

he leans back and watches you with no further offerings- words or otherwise medically dubious practices- and looks quite pleased. his breath is ragged, though; chest lifting and caving. 

“thank you,” you exhale. your tongue darts out over your lips.  

his pupils are swollen. “sure.” 

you grin, caught off guard by the joke. it sounds ridiculous in his voice.  

“my break will be ending,” zayne says, stony as ever once again as he walks to his desk.  

you stand, smoothing your hair down like something far more scandalous just occurred than stitches. 

“what do i owe you?” you ask. this earns a genuine, icy glare. 

“nothing,” zayne replies, pulling on his white jacket and grabbing his things. “but go to the front desk before you leave. i’m going to call in a prescription ointment for you.” 

you blink at him, thrice. a little dizzy. “oh, wow. thank you.” 

as zayne strides to the door, you think he might genuinely leave you there without another word. but he takes the door handle, and, almost shy, turns over his shoulder and says, 

“i’d like to stay with you, but i can’t. i’ll be working until dinner.” 

“no, no,” you rush, stepping to meet him at the door. “i’m fine. thank you so much, for doing this. i was just thinking.” 

he still can’t look at you, but at that; zayne grins. 

“i’ll call you when i get home,” he says. then, “is that okay?” 

you swallow. “of course.” 

“i want to know how the sutures feel in a couple of hours,” he adds. 

“oh, sure,” you tease. 

his eyes darken, like darts. you’re almost afraid.  

zayne opens the door for you and waits for you to pass by, eyes full of mirth as he looks down at you. “i’m glad i could be of service.” 

he raps his fingers on a clipboard until you look away. you blush feverishly all the way down the hall at how he says ‘service.’ 

☄. *. ⋆

this is not how you do stitches nor how you sterilize utensils. anyways FIRST POST. lol. anon if you or anyone else wants a part 2 of this (nsfw) i wiiiiiill do it lmk

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deep space x reader #l&ds zayne #l&ds x reader #l&ds #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #l&ds fic #l&ds smut

[yesimwriting]

but i think deep (or maybe not so deep) down,, felix thinks he's going to end up with reader,, like they're meant to settle down together one day

This made me imagine a scenario where bestfriend!Felix is cuddling with reader and they have a conversation that goes something like this

Felix: what would you name our children?

Reader: ??Children??! We haven't even kissed though??

It's funny to think that Felix is imagining his entire future with reader and reader is over here still clueless and thinking they're just really close friends 😭

omg he for sure would bring this up himself and then immediately gets flustered if reader entertained the thought,, he's so neat 🩷

----

The morning, or, more accurately, the early afternoon is slipping away. It's almost impossible to feel the passage of time while tangled in Felix's sheets, but you're sure it's too late in the day to still be in bed like this.

You and Felix have been quiet, like you always are when you first wake up after a long night out, too groggy and hungover to do much more than be next to each other. Conversation usually leads to the end of the morning's peacefulness anyway, with one of you mentioning something about breakfast or class or other weekend plans.

You're glad to lay here as long as possible, taking your time memorizing the feel of Felix's skin beneath your fingertips. But you and Felix have been awake for awhile now, and you do still have that homework that Felix convinced you could wait until later.

"Okay," you mumble, voice raspy with sleep, "It's been awhile." You smooth your knuckles against his bare shoulder. "We should get up."

He groans, shifting off of his side and onto his back. "Few more minutes." You're about to protest when he stretches out an arm, searching blindly until his palm finds your back. You sigh at the suggestion, but still move to rest your cheek against his chest. "It's Saturday."

Warmth begins to burn its way up your chest. Despite how comfortable you are with Felix, you're still never sure how to act when he decides to go to bed shirtless. "And I have an essay for Redman's class."

He trails his fingers down your back. "That's not due until the end of the week."

You lift your head, chin pressing into his side so you can properly glare. "How do you know that?"

He smiles, the look much too pleased for something so small. "Had lunch with Ollie yesterday."

Right. You should have guessed the answer. Oliver's the only person in that class that you know, which is kind of nice in its own way. You always have someone to sit and do group work with, and if you ever have to be absent you know Oliver takes good note. However, it also means that there's someone to let Felix know your deadlines. Which is usually okay, unless you're in the mood to work ahead and Felix is in the mood for anything else.

"He is such a homework snitch."

Felix laughs, "Homework snitch?"

"You know what I mean."

"'Y'mean," he starts, his thumb brushing past your shirt's collar, "You're sick of me and looking for an excuse to leave."

You roll your eyes, dipping your head forward and pressing a quick kiss against his side. "Exactly." Felix attempts to glare, but with the way his nose scrunches slightly at the unexpected contact, it falls flat. "You know I'm never tired of you."

"Really?" You nod, more focused on the realization that Felix might be ticklish than his probing tone. "Never?"

You nod again, the motion absentminded, "Never." Carefully, you lift your head a little more, propping it up on one arm. "Lex, are you ticklish?"

"No."

Too immediate, too firm.

You're quick, hand moving off a pillow, fingers aiming for his side. Felix is faster, his arm shifting forward in an attempt to stop you. You move your arm back, fingers brushing against his lower side. Felix laughs, the sound nervous. You grin, satisfied.

The brief moment you take to feel your feel victory is your downfall. Felix's hand presses against your wrist, pinning your hand flat against his stomach. "Lovie," he tries, still recovering from his laughing fit, "Play nice."

You look up at him, expression pure innocence, "I always play nice."

"Mhm."

His doubt is offensive. You pout. "I do." You attempt to straighten, Felix's hold on your hand tightens. "I'm going to lay down." He eyes you skeptically. "As a sign of goodwill. Promise."

He loosens his grip before turning your palm over. You intertwine your fingers, squeezing his hand as you lay your head down. "Any plans for today?"

"No." Felix smooths circles against your back. "Just you."

You're glad that your head's turned away from him so that you don't have to mask your grin. "Good."

"Good?"

You drag your thumb against his knuckles. "You know I'm prone to fits of jealousy."

Felix laughs so gently you feel the movement of his chest more than you hear it. "Sounds like you."

Even though there isn't anything hilarious about your joke and Felix has done a lot more to go along with your bits, you laugh too.

Comfortable silence is just beginning to blanket the two of you again when Felix speaks again, "Lovie?" You hum in acknowledgement. "Do you--" He cuts himself off. "Do you want to get married?"

Now you're really glad that your face is turned away from him. "I--I'm going to need a better proposal before answering."

His hand briefly stalls against the fabric of your T-shirt. "No," he huffs the word in a way that's almost a laugh. "I didn't--I mean--I meant generally. At some point."

Oh. A serious question that's a lot less fun than when you could pretend he was proposing. "Oh--uh, I don't know. I mean, it didn't exactly work out for my mom, but some people seem to--" You let out a breath in an attempt to give yourself some time to think through your response. It's not like you've never thought about marriage, but it's not something you have a concrete answer on. "I think so, maybe."

Your own flakiness feels like a cop out response. You swallow before trying again, "If I can find someone I trust, like really trust." Squeezing Felix's hand for assurance, you give yourself another moment to contemplate. "And also, I'd have to be sure that they're the kind of person I can be around forever without feeling drained."

Finally feeling okay with your response, you're ready to move on by asking Felix about his own thoughts on marriage. Before you can turn the conversation, Felix says, "Like the way you trust me?"

Your face burns. "Yeah," you mumble, too distracted by your sudden shyness to even think to joke about it, "Something like that." You're still more flustered than you want to be. "I also said I'd have to not get tired of them, so..."

Felix scoffs, "Oh, don't start." He lifts the hand he's holding, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm. "We'd be happy."

You're quiet because there's nothing you can say. Felix is only teasing, but the more you think about marrying him, the more real the joke feels. Even though he's only your best friend and there's nothing romantic about your relationship, you would be happy with him. How could you not? He's considerate, always putting your feelings first, and you could get used to a lifetime of waking up by his side.

"Do you have any name preferences?"

You lift your head enough to look at him. "What?"

Felix's gaze briefly meets yours before dropping his attention back to your intertwined hands. "Baby names."

Your lips part in surprise, and for a long second, all you can do is blink at him. "Are you still drunk?"

He shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm making conversation."

Okay, a little weird, but if Felix is being so casual about it, maybe you're overthinking it. "Okay," you mumble skeptically, "You probably come with a ton of family, traditional names." His thumb brushes down the back of your hand. "I like the name Lux," you finally manage, "For a girl."

"Lux," he repeats, more to himself than you.

You let yourself openly watch him. "I guess it depends on how many kids we have."

Felix turns his head slightly, teeth grazing against his bottom lip. "Two or three." His eyes focus on the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand. "I mean, I like the idea of two or three."

"Two or three?" You haven't given much thought to the number of children you want. You grew up an only child, mainly around your mother, and that was a little lonely despite her best efforts. You like the general idea of siblings, but with that comes multiple pregnancies and labor. "That's a long time to be pregnant."

He squeezes your shoulder, the gesture comforting. "We don't have to have them right away."

You lay your head down again, temple resting against his side. It's not a terrible thing to imagine, not in the slightest. Felix with a baby in his arms and a toddler or two hanging off his leg. Children with different combinations of your features--a little boy with your hair and his kind eyes, a baby girl with his charming smile and your nose.

Okay--that's enough of that train of thought. The last thing you need is to actually start wanting your best friend to propose. "Considering how far we are from married, I'd hope not."

"Wow," he breathes, dragging the word out. You turn your head, doing your best to look up at him. "I see."

"See what?"

His hand trails down your back warmly. "We're too young for me to propose."

Embarrassment has you attempting to pull away so that you can defend yourself. Felix doesn't let you get too far, his hand on your back making it hard to do much more than hold up your head. "No, I didn't--"

"We're still in school, Lovie. It'd be irresponsible."

The amusement coloring his expression has you glowering. He is so impossible. "Your tone is irresponsible."

"Moody." You're about to protest when he pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "Want to go to breakfast?"

You rest your chin near his stomach. "Is it early enough for breakfast?"

He turns his head, neck stretching at an awkward angle to look at his bedside clock. "If we go to the place down the road with the all day breakfast menu."

You smile, "Cool." You wipe at your eyes with the back of your palm. "You realize to go we have to get up, get ready..."

"Hm," he hums, pretending to contemplate, "Give me five minutes?"

You are starting to feel hungry, but everything's so much warmer this close to Felix. You're comfortable, and it's not like there's a time constraint on breakfast. "Okay, five minutes."

Felix grins, pulling your hand towards him again. He brushes his lips against the back of your palm. "That's my girl."

You roll your eyes in an attempt to hide any obvious signs of total contentment before laying your head down again.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

#bestfriend!felix x reader #bestfriend!felix #saltburn imagine #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #felix x reader #felix catton #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi

[7ndipity]

When they call you clingy

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: different scenarios in which they've called you clingy.

Warnings: angst, swearing, depression, jk calls himself an idiot, not proofread.

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon for this request! I'm gonna be honest, these are all over the place. Some are angsty, some are fluffy, Jimin's is just straight-up comfort because apparently he's part of my emotional support squad. Idk, I hope you like them anyway!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Seokjin: Bickering with Jin was something that happened often, usually over something you both knew was ridiculous to fight over, like the validity of mint chocolate as an ice cream flavor, but both of you were too stubborn to back down.

Tonight's argument: whether holding hands while sleeping was clingy or not.

"I think it's nice." You argued.

"That's because you're clingy!" He retorted.

"I'm clingy?" You asked, offended. "Have you seen you?"

"What?"

"Last week at that party, you couldn't stand me being more than five feet away from you!"

"That's cause Wooseok kept staring at you and I didn't want him trying to make a pass at you." He exclaimed.

You blinked. "That was why?"

"Yes!"

You paused, caught of guard by his admission. "That's kinda sweet."

"Because I'm a sweet boyfriend." He said, still slightly defensive.

"You are." You assented, coming over and kissing him, making him finally crack and give you a small grin.

"Can we please just go to bed now?" He asked.

"Will you let me hold your hand?"

He sighed. "Yes."

"Then yes."

Yoongi: It was late in the afternoon when you brought him a coffee while he was working on his laptop and, noticing the concentrated frown on his face, leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Agh, clingy." He grumbled, not with any venom, just his usual tone, but it was still enough to make you draw back, excusing yourself so he could work.

Were you clingy? You knew you were more physically affectionate than he was, but he'd never seemed to find it bothersome, but you couldn't help second guessing yourself after his comment.

Later, when he came through to join you, he noticed you were a bit quiet, but didn't think much of it at first, until you sat down on the opposite end of the sofa from him.

"C'mere." He said, patting the space next him.

"I'm good here right now." You said, making him frown in confusion.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

"No."

"Then why are you way over there?"

"I'm just trying to give you some space."

"I don't want space." He pouted.

"But you said I was clingy."

"I didn't say it was a bad thing." He said, sliding over next to you. "You know I'm not the best at showing my feelings, but that's one of the things I admire about you. You're not afraid to be the one to reach out first, and sometimes I need that. I need clingy."

"Really?" You quirked a brow at him.

"A little, just a little." He warned, trying to hold his hands up in defense, but it was too late, you'd already tackled him.

Hoseok: It was a clear night as the two of you walked around the city, enjoying one of your first proper date nights since he'd got back from tour, and you were taking full advantage of it, trying to keep as close to him as possible, whether holding his hand or wrapping your arms round his waist.

"My clingy baby." He chuckled as you wound yourself around him yet again. It wasn't said unkindly, but for some reason the word kept bouncing around in your head, making you self-consciously shift back to just holding hands. Were you being too clingy? You had always thought that Hobi liked your affectionate nature, but now you were worried if it was a little too much, even for him. Noticing your change in mood, he gave your hand a little squeeze. "You okay?"

"Mhm." You hummed, still thinking.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Am I being too clingy?" You asked, glancing over him.

"What?! Of course not!" He said, stunned. "I was just teasing you earlier, Baby. Trust me, you could never be too clingy for me."

"You sure?" You asked.

"Definitely." He said, opening his arms. "Now get back over here."

Namjoon: Joon had been working almost non-stop for weeks and you could tell it was taking a toll on him, the fatigue clear on his face, but he rebuffed you at every attempt to try and help him relax.

"Can you just give me some goddamn space, you're so clingy!" He'd finally snapped one evening, the final straw in your mind.

That was three days ago, and you hadn't been back to his place since, ignoring his calls and texts. You hated shutting him out the same way he had done you, but you also weren't going stand by and put up with his behavior anymore. If it was space that he wanted, he could have it.

Until you open the door the next morning to a very disheveled looking Joon.

"What are you-?"

"I'm sorry." He blurted out. "For acting the way I have, and for yelling at you like that. I know you just trying to look out for me, you didn't deserve any of that." He paused to catch his breath, seeming to brace himself before looking back up at you. "The past few days have been absolute hell without you, but it made me realize how much I love you, and I know it's shitty timing to say that, but I-"

You shut him up with a quick kiss, knowing if you didn't stop him, he would probably keep talking for at least a half hour.

"You wanna come in?" You asked, to which he quickly nodded.

He still had some apologizing to do, but it was a start.

Jimin: Some day are just shit. Some days feel like you're just circling the drain, constantly the verge of tipping over the edge into the deep abyss, and all you want is something to hold onto and keep you from falling.

Which is why, when Jimin came home late that evening and fell on the bed next to you, you had immediately wrapped yourself around him and refused to let go.

"What's got you so clingy?" He'd teased, trying to tilt your chin up, but you wouldn't let him, tucking your face further into his neck.

"Babe?" He asked, more worried now, noticing you shaking slightly against him. "What's wrong?"

You just shook your head. "Bad day."

"I'm sorry." He said softly, understanding the situation now. "Can I do something? Do you need anything?"

"Just you." You mumbled, your breathing unsteady as you tried to keep from crying.

He held you tighter. "I'm here. I've got you."

Taehyung: "I like this." He mumbled, tracing patterns along your back with his fingers.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm, I like it when you're clingy."

As soon as he'd walked through the door, you had latched onto him, having not seen him in over two weeks while he was traveling.

You frowned, propping yourself up on your hands to look at him. "I'm not clingy."

"That would sound a lot more convincing if you weren't laying on top of me right now." He chuckled.

Shooting him a look, you moved to roll off of him, but he stopped you, holding you tightly by the waist. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I don't wanna be clingy." You said stubbornly.

"But I like it!" He laughed.

"Well, I don't! Being clingy isn't supposed to be a good thing!" You said.

"I think it is, at least the way you do it." He said, rubbing circles on you sides with his thumbs. "It's nice to know that you like me as much as I like you."

"So, you're admitting you're clingy too?" You poked him.

"You had to ask?" He suddenly rolled till you were pinned under him. "Darling, you have no idea how clingy I can be."

Jungkook: It had caught you off guard when you overhead him talking to one of his friends after dinner. "Y/n's the same way, they're so clingy!" He'd laughed. It might have only been a joke, but it cut you deeper than you cared to admit.

You knew you tended to stick him more when you went out, but he'd always seemed okay with it. Till now now anyway.

For the rest of the evening, you couldn't help but shy away a bit from him, keeping a little distance between you, causing him to grow increasingly confused.

"Are you mad a me?" He asked, once you were alone in the car.

"Do you really think I'm clingy? You asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"What?"

"That's what you said to Mingyu." You said, looking down.

"That was- I was just joking around." He said trying to keep his tone light, but it became clear by your lack of response that you weren't amused. "I don't think you're clingy."

"Then why say it?"

"Because-" He sighed. "Because I'm an idiot. I was just trying to be cool, and I know that sounds dumb and childish, but I don't know how else to explain it." He looked over at you. "I'm sorry."

You studied him for a moment. "I expect cuddles as compensation for this."

"Of course." He agreed.

"And don't call my boyfriend an idiot."

"You got it." He grinned at you, starting the car.

#bts scenarios #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts requests #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x y/n #bts x reader #seokjin x y/n #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #hoseok x y/n #hoseok x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #7ndipity

[sinkovia]

Coffee shop

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.

Coffee Shop Masterlist

After months of deployment, Simon was finally discharged, and the decision to settle down took root within him. Years of moving between apartments during deployments led him to the conclusion that it was time to have a place to call his own, a familiar haven to return to. He opted for a one-bedroom house in a quiet neighborhood of a small town—a space he could truly call home.

What appealed to him the most about this place was the convenience of having many things within walking distance, reducing the need for constant driving.

One of his newfound discoveries was a small cafe just five minutes away from his house. After finishing his workout in the afternoon, he grabbed one of the many books he had ordered and walked down. As he entered, the cozy atmosphere embraced him, and there were only a few patrons inside, eliciting a small sigh of relief from him.

It felt like the perfect place to unwind and delve into his books, a quaint spot where he could enjoy the simplicity of life after the rigors of military service.

When you saw him walk in, you took in his appearance and greeted him with a welcoming smile. Standing tall, he was a behemoth of a man, and you instinctively assumed he would order a straightforward black coffee. However, as he approached the counter and confidently stated his order for black tea in a strong Manchester accent, you nearly froze.

"Is something wrong?" His deep voice resonated, and you softly smiled, "Not at all, sir. I'm sorry. Would you like any sugar or milk?"

He grabbed his wallet and placed a ten-dollar bill on the counter, "Plain is fine."

Walking away, he took a seat near the front of the cafe, affording him a clear view of everyone entering and a pleasant sight through the nearby window. Your brows furrowed at the ten-dollar bill.

Where on God's green earth did he ever pay ten dollars for a cup of tea?

After making his cup, you retrieved his change of six dollars and approached his table. He seemed deeply engrossed in his book, you almost felt bad for interrupting him.

"Here's your tea, and the tea is only four dollars. This is your change." He glanced at the money on the table before looking up at you. His gaze lingered, taking in your features; you looked only a few years younger than him.

You were pretty too.

Shifting your weight from one leg to the other, you felt his eyes wandering. "Keep the change, love." His use of the endearment caught you off guard. People around here never spoke that way, but then again, based on his accent, you knew he wasn't from the area.

"Oh no, that's too much. Please, keep it." He picked up the cup, bringing it to his lips. After taking a sip, his eyes slightly widened. It was the best cup of tea he had had in years.

"Consider it a tip then. You know how to make a good cup," he said, and you smiled, feeling proud that this giant man appreciated the way you made tea.

"Thank you. That's very sweet of you to say." He hummed in response, and you took it as a sign to let him go back to his book and read in peace. You gathered the cash on the table and tucked it into your apron as you walked away.

After taking off your apron in the back, you made yourself a cup of tea before settling down in the corner of the cafe with a book. Simon glanced up at you, noticing an older man standing in your place at the register.

Were you on break?

His eyes returned to the pages of his book, and he continued reading until he heard you get up after about thirty minutes, standing back at the register with the book still in your hand. The only customers to come in were an older couple who chose to sit in the back, away from Simon.

A small timer on his watch beeped quietly, and he turned it off. Having spent around an hour and a half at the cafe, he thought it was a good time to head back home. Your eyes went to him when you heard the quiet beeping, observing as he tore a small piece of the napkin and used it as a bookmark. You smiled to yourself, recalling how you used to do the same before you started doodling on strips of paper to use as bookmarks.

As he got up from his seat, you smiled and called out to him, "Have a nice day."

He responded with a gruff "you too" before walking out and heading back home. Simon appreciated the quiet and emptiness of the cafe and decided he would definitely be returning tomorrow.

#call of duty #cod #cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod x reader #writers #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #cofeeshop au #alternate universe #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod simon riley #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #fluff #cod fluff #simon riley fluff #simon x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod ghost #ghost #simon ghost x you

[sarahs-library]

Forgotten: Part Two

Azriel wakes to find himself with everything he'd never allowed himself to wish for. Now, faced with the reality of all he thought he wanted, he must come to terms with his desires and the unexpected direction his life had taken.

Word count - 3564

A/N - Thank you all so much for reading the first part of my little story and for all the lovely comments and words of encouragement. I'm still learning how to post and interact on here, a few people asked to be added to a taglist which I've tried to create but I'm not sure if it actually works.

Part One ☪ Part Three

Forgotten Universe: Pretty Eyes

Azriel

Azriel was still under Madja’s knurled fingers as they palpated his temples, the soothing chill of her healing magic drifted over tender, swollen skin. Her copper eyes assessed his face closely and he schooled his features into a blank mask. His gaze drifted over the curve of her shoulder to meet Rhys as he lingered by the open doors of the balcony. The bland smile, the loose set of his shoulders, and the hands that hung casually in the pockets of his trousers irked Azriel. After so many years it wasn’t difficult to read this feigned nonchalance, the worry it masked beneath.

“A lingering effect of the head injury, exacerbated by the bloodsbane.” Madja’s fingers continued to probe as Azriel returned his attention to her. Thickness lingered on his tongue; left over from the medication she’d administered on her arrival to reign in his fever. His head felt clearer now, where his shadows had been silent before they sang again, murmuring of the almost imperceptible anxious shift of Rhys’ weight on the floorboards. Elsewhere the House of Wind was quiet and empty, Elain having fled into Rhys’ arms with a demand to be winnowed home without sparing a glance in his direction. Azriel had been left to stew in solitude until his brother had returned with the ancient healer tucked in his arms, greying spindrift hair windswept, her face lined with wrinkles and kind concern.

“Some amnesia isn’t uncommon with an injury like this,” Madja continued finally pulling her hands away from his face. “Though to ascertain its true extent you must tell us what you remember shadow-singer.” She retreated from him into the chair Elain had occupied earlier, righted by Rhys, and slowly lowered herself on creaking joints. Azriel balked a little under the attention as he tried to force himself to recollect. Pain brewed between his eyes. He remembered the visit to Hewn City, the scheming; the gifting of Nesta’s made blade to Eris. He remembered the solstice party, the disaster of his foray with Elain afterward, and his brother’s wrath. The ensuing weeks had been busy, his mornings occupied with training the Valkyries and concocting obstacle courses modeled after the Blood Rite qualifier. The afternoons and evenings spent keeping tabs on Eris and following up on the dead leads from whispers and fables of high-fae women bearing winged babes. Everything after was hazy, difficult to hold, and worsened the pain in his head if he tried to focus for too long.

“Feyre,” he said, and Rhys cocked an eyebrow, his face encouraging him to continue. “We were following leads on the delivery of winged babes.” The darkening of Rhys’ features filled Azriel with a sense of foreboding. “Feyre,” he continued, “is she…Is the babe...” He trailed off, unsure of how to broach the topic. Rhys’ features softened, understanding his brother had misinterpreted the emotion to be driven by his grief and loss and not for the male before him. Shoulders pulled forward in a rare display of vulnerability, scarred fingers clasping his knees for stability, Rhys struggled to recall a recent memory of seeing his brother so open, so vulnerable. He hadn’t seen him this lost since their youth in the war camps.

“Feyre,” Rhy drawled, fixing Azriel with what he hoped was an abating expression. “And the babe, we named him Nyx, they’re both well. Perfect.” Rhys watched his brother process the information, the small twitch of the corner of his mouth the only sign of his surprise. Watched as Azriel came to terms with the missing months in the timeline, Feyre still had half of her pregnancy to go during the solstice. How would he even begin to broach the missing years? “You don’t remember anything about the attack?” Rhys probed, Azriel bristled under the line of questioning.

“No.” His fingers danced over his injured abdomen and trailed the bandages before climbing up to rub over the empty feeling in his chest, worse than any wound he’d ever gotten. It left him feeling cold and empty. The glint of his rings caught his eye. The signet on his little finger embossed with the Night Court symbol, a gift from Rhys centuries ago declaring him part of his found family, rubbed against an unfamiliar band of gold.

Feyre

Feyre locked eyes with Nuala as she crouched over Nyx playing with his toys on the carpet. The shadow-wraith stepped silently over to them and greeted the young heir to the Night Court with a small smile, producing a plate of homemade biscuits warm from the oven and smelling of cinnamon. Nyx fixed her with his cerulean eyes and toothy smile, cheeks chubby from the lingering fat of youth. Reaching out to fist the crumbling treat in one hand he thanked her, proceeding to get more crumbs in the creases of his clothes than he did in his mouth. Feyre’s heart swelled.

“I’ll be back soon,” she reached out to stroke his midnight hair as his arms waved, one brandishing a small wooden figure and the other his half-eaten treat.

“Okay, mama.” His eyes were drawn to her briefly before he returned to his imaginary world, moving his wooden figure into position to conquer the high ground of his drawing table, covered in drying paint and charcoal pencils.

“You’ll behave for Nuala won’t you?” Nyx nodded eagerly in agreement and proceeded to clash the figurine in his hand against a triangle formation of his enemies with a sound of delight. Feyre rose, leaning close to thank the shadow-wraith on her way to the door. After taking an indulgent glance backward she stepped into the breach, winnowing to a familiar path on the outskirts of Velaris.

Well-manicured grass thick with morning dew poked through the paving stones Feyre stepped between on the way up to the front door. The lower level was in darkness, the windows blending into the dark stone and winding vines. The second level blazed, fae light seeping out of the floor-to-ceiling windows though Feyre saw no movement.

The dark wood of the door opened on a wind under her fist, poised to knock, and Feyre took the invitation to enter. The foyer offset the chill of the early morning air and she made a beeline towards the dark staircase. The open door allowed a beam of sunlight into the sitting area, dark with the curtains drawn, illuminating the comfortable leather chairs perched around the large fireplace.

Feyre eyed the portrait hanging above the mantle, a solstice gift to Azriel the year after his mating ceremony, her heart ached. Depicting the moment after the vows had been said and the food exchanged, hands clasped between them bound by thick dark ribbon, Feyre remembered agonizing for days over how to properly encapsulate onto the canvas the shared look of love and adoration. Feyre couldn’t imagine how you had coped over the last few days, in the last months of pregnancy sitting vigil at Azriel’s bedside wondering if he would wake up. Presumably elated to hear he had awake, only to find him in the arms of another woman, one with whom he shared such history.

Continuing up the stairs to the second floor Feyre followed the fae lights towards the front of the house. The door to the nursery was ajar and she stopped short of the threshold. Your back was to her, one hand tracing the soft carved wood of the bassinet Azriel had spent every spare moment painstakingly crafting. The scent of fresh paint hung in the air, leftover from a few weeks ago when the pair of you decorated the walls with murals of snow-capped mountains, lush forest greenery, and frolicking animals.

Suspended over the bassinet in a sea of miniature stars hung multicolored globes, each spinning on their invisible axis. The spiraling constellation, you’d called it a galaxy, held all the planets known to your people. Feyre wondered how many you’d seen in your trips across the stars as you reached up into the field of magic closest to you to trace your fingers over a small planet of russet brown cratered with darker swirls.

“Rhys told me what happened.” Feyre watched as you continued to agitate the floating sphere. You didn’t turn. She crept closer into the room, torn between giving you space and reaching out in comfort. She waited with bated breath to see if you would respond before continuing. “It’s the head injury, he doesn’t remember.”

“He had no idea who I was.” The hand that hung in the stars moved to cradle your abdomen. “He would’ve…” You trailed off. The posturing, the aggression, there was no doubt at that moment Azriel viewed you only as a threat, a stranger, someone who had invaded his home. That was not the male who had doted on you only a week before, hands cradling you gently as his lips brushed your soft skin singing low lullabies to your unborn babe.

“Elain was at the River House earlier,” Rhys had dropped her there with a rushed explanation before disappearing again. “She feels awful, she wanted to come and apologise.” Feyre wasn’t sure why she brought up Elain, as soon as the words were out of her mouth she realised she’d made a grave miscalculation.

“I don’t care what Elain wants right now Feyre.” The temperature in the room plummeted as you finally turned to look at her. For a moment the air in the room thinned and Feyre struggled against the pressure of the vacuum that forced her to exhale. As quickly as it came the atmosphere in the room returned to normal and she sucked in a shaky breath through her teeth.

“I know, I know. I didn’t mean it like that.” Feyre tried to keep her voice low and soothing, pinned under your gaze as she edged closer, reaching out to place an open palm on your arm. “Madja’s with him now, she says that all this is to be expected. When Rhys spoke to her earlier she said these things usually resolve themselves with time.” Your thumb traced gentle circles on your swollen belly.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a little short on that right now.” The anger in your tone was undermined by the tears threatening to spill. Realising there wasn’t anything she could say Feyre moved to pull your body against her own. Arms encircling you in a comforting embrace, she rubbed her fingers between your shoulder blades. You moved to hold her back, resting your face in the space where her neck met her shoulder as you let the tears fall. “What am I going to do?” Your voice was thin and watery, in the time Feyre had known you she’d never heard you speak with so little conviction.

“We’re going to figure this out.” She pulled away slightly and clasped your face between her hands, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I promise. You have all of us, you’re not alone in this. We’ll do everything we can for you, both of you.” Nodding you sniffed, pulling away. Feyre let you go as you turned your attention back out to the window, eying the gilded disc of the sun as it rose across the Valaris skyline.

“I’m heading to the House of Wind,” Feyre continued to observe you as you tracked the ascent. “Would you like to come?” You moved closer to the window. On the opposite side of the city you could see the grand mountain range and it’s carved residence. Through the morning mist blanketing the base a large, winged figure rose, angling to land on one of the balconies.

“I don’t think I can look at him right now.” Feyre acquiesced her desire to push you to come with her.

Azriel

After Madja had left Rhys with strict instructions regarding Azriel’s rehabilitation over the next couple of days, he’d supported his brother’s weight while they made slow progress to the bathroom. Azriel’s limbs felt stiff, uncharacteristically uncoordinated and he concentrated on remaining upright and shuffling one foot in front of the other.

Steam rose from the bath the House had prepared, swirling to meet the shadows that seeped down his arm as Azriel braced one hand on the edge of the tub. Using the other he edged the loose cotton trousers down over his thighs until they pooled at his feet. Fingers tugged at the cotton on his abdomen to find purchase, loosening and unwinding until the bandaging fell away to reveal an angry pink scar, jagged and stark against tanned skin.

“Want me to wash your back?” Rhys shot him a cheeky grin, but the mirth in his voice didn’t reach his eyes. Azriel appreciated the effort, this small attempt at normalcy. He shot his brother an obscene gesture before raising one leg to step into the tub, thigh muscles twitching as he shifted into the hot water. Using his arms to brace his weight he started to lower himself in, descending too quickly they struggled to hold him up causing a wave of bathwater to soak the floor. Azriel sunk under the warmth of the water, allowing it to soothe him.

“We’ll be in the dining room, come down when you’re ready.” His shadows had already informed him of Cassian and Nesta’s arrival, he assumed the rest of his family wouldn’t be far behind. Azriel nodded, avoiding Rhys’ gaze, pretending to study the shadows roiling over the water. In the mirror on the opposite wall, Azriel watched Rhys’ reflection as he opened his mouth as if to speak, no sound coming out as he considered, before closing it again and disappearing through the doorway.

Dressing had been an arduous process, though no longer stiff and painful his muscles had a weakness that he wasn’t used to. After struggling into the tight second skin of his fighting leathers he felt more himself. Finding truth-teller laid out in its holster on the dresser he strapped it to his thigh. His shadows, now a fuller cohort with the effects of the bloodbane leaving his system, were a thick tangle of moving darkness, sour and agitated in solidarity with their master.

Despite his interrogation, they hadn’t offered him any useful information, it caused Azriel great frustration when they took the stance of purposeful vagueness or outright ignored him. He sent them ahead down the corridor to scout out the dining room only to be turned around by a shield of impenetrable night. Whatever conversations were going on in that room, Rhys did not want him privy to them. His own family, keeping secrets. It left a bad taste in Azriel’s mouth, a sense of betrayal in his chest that sat next to the empty feeling he was growing accustomed to, a limb he didn’t know he had until it was missing.

Azriel reached the closed door, the thick night dissipating as he progressed, the sound from beyond the door returned but he heard no voices. Just the sound of breathing and the clink of porcelain as someone set a cup on a saucer. Rhys must have informed them of his impending arrival. He pushed the door open and took in his family.

Cassian, Nesta, Rhys, Feyre and Amren all sat at the table which had been used for family dinners before the River House was built. Their faces were carefully blank as he assessed them all. Mor was notably absent, information Azriel tucked away, either her efforts across the continent were still ongoing or some other manner of business had her attention. He hadn’t expected to see Elain, not after her spectacular display of anger, but he couldn’t help the feeling of unease and disappointment it left in his gut.

“Finally, the invalid graces us with his presence. Took you long enough,” Cassian sent him an easy grin, arms folded across his stomach as he lounged in his chair. Azriel scowled in response which only made his brother’s smile wider. This had always been Cassian’s modus operadi, an invitation to be provoked into a physical outlet if that’s what was needed, thinly veiled under jibes he rarely meant at heart. For a moment, Azriel considered taking up the unspoken offer, if only to delay what was undoubtedly going to be an uncomfortable conversation.    

“Azriel,” it was Feyre who spoke, offering him a small smile, “Why don’t you join us?” Azriel understood that it wasn’t an invitation and slid into the seat next to Amren. His eyes met Nesta’s who sat across from him. They’d reached a tentative understanding, perhaps it could be considered a friendship, in the months he could recall. He remembered her joy at receiving the solstice gift he’d gotten for her, the resulting rare display of physical affection.

Looking at her now, face resolute and stony with blazing anger behind her eyes, barely contained, he had the sense that something had damaged the dynamic between them. He purposely looked away, instead fixing his eyes on Rhys; then Feyre. He waited for someone to speak, break the almost oppressive silence. He half-expected it to be Cassian again, with some throwaway comment or badly timed joke, but it was Rhys who cleared his throat.

“Azriel, thank you for joining us.” Azriel raised an eyebrow at the formality but stayed silent. “There are some matters we need to discuss.”

“Clearly.” He trailed his eyes over his family again, they all seemed uncomfortable to be here, to be around him. As if they knew he was going to react badly to whatever they were going to say. Rhys let his remark go, seeming resolute to power ahead with the conversation.

“What you showed me of your recent memories,” he continued, eyes drifting to Feyre who gave him an encouraging smile. “Lead us to believe that the memory loss is more extensive than we originally feared. Azriel, what you showed me – it was more than five years ago.” Azriel barely seemed to move under the scrutiny of their gazes. He’d lost years of his life. In the grand scheme of his immortality it felt like nothing, but looking at his family and realising that they lived in a future he didn’t remember left him feeling sick.

Azriel tried to find some rational thought to hold onto as he spiralled. He fell back onto the only thing he could rely on, his role as the Night Court’s spymaster. “Was it the work of the Queens? The attack?”

“The debacle on the continent has been resolved, for the most part. It was only supposed to be a routine investigation, nothing too strenuous or time-consuming given your current…” Rhys paused. “Situation. You were gathering information on some remaining rebellious factions, we didn’t anticipate that you would meet that kind of resistance, that they would have the resources. We’re sorry Az, we never meant for any of this to happen.”

“And what exactly is my current situation, Rhysand? What do you have to apologise for?” Azriel’s voice was low and dangerous. Amren snorted at the display, reaching for her wine glass. He expected a scathing remark, but it never came as Rhys shot her a look, and in a rare moment of deference she adhered as he implored her to remain silent.

“The female that was in the house earlier-“

“The thief.” Azriel interrupted.

“No,” Feyre cut in before Rhys could continue. “Her name is Y/N, and she’s your mate Az. The situation,” Feyre seemed to find describing it as such distasteful, but she continued. “Is that she is pregnant, with your child. That’s why we’re sorry, if we knew how dangerous it would be we never would have asked you to go alone.”

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Three brothers for three sisters, that was what Azriel had always thought about, always dreamed. The cauldron blessing him with undeniable proof that, though not blood-related, he and his brothers were three equal parts in the eyes of fate. He’d wanted that, seeing how happy they were in their relationships filled him with bone-deep envy. Observing from the sidelines as Rhys and Feyre prepared for the new addition to their family with vigour, as Cassian and Nesta had danced around each other in slowly shrinking circles. The other halves of their souls. That should have been him and Elain, never mind the mockery of the bond Vanserra thought they had. Azriel knew it was a mistake, a sick joke that would all work out in the end because there was no other way it could be. Three brothers for three sisters.

He wanted it all. A house on the outskirts of the city, filled with the sweet scent of Elain’s baking and made beautiful by the flowers she cultivated in their gardens. Filled with sunlight and happiness, somewhere to retreat from the darkest corners of his life. He’d dreamed of that life in the secret hours of the dawn, of a future where the issues of Feyre’s pregnancy had been resolved and perhaps their home was filled with the noise of children.

Now he had awoken in a future where he had those things, a mate, an unborn babe on the way, only to find it wasn’t with whom he desired. Elain, whom he had woken in this world for, who had been so tender in his first moments of consciousness, who had kissed him back. Azriel couldn’t imagine choosing to build that life with anyone else.   

A/N - Phew! I know, the angst was real. I promise it will get better, but there's definitely a long way to go here! Part three is in the works, not sure when it will be finished but hopefully it won't be too long.

Tag list: @kalulakunundrum @impossibelle @we-were-beautiful @going-through-shit @mulansaucey @sv0430 @naturakaashi @amygdtjhddzvb @airstrip-0 @acourtofsmutandstarlight @myheartfollower @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @valencia-rou @amysangel @furiousbooklover @phoenixgurl030 @imnotsiriusyouare @i-am-infinite

#azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #elain x azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar series #acotar x reader

[halsteadlover]

Haunted

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female!Reader.

• Requested by @lelaartt: So reader and Jay are engaged, her working as a nurse in the ICU. She gets followed by a stranger on her way home for couple of occasions (She doesn't tell anyone) as the stranger becames a main suspect in case that intelligence is dealing with. Jay completelly worried about her safety and she tells him about the stranger following her for couple of weeks.

• Warnings: stalking, cursing, blood, description of violence, brief mention of killing and rape. (Let me know if I missed something).

• Word count: 9530.

• A/N: I know this is a long ass fic and I’m so sorry please don’t come at me 😭. I’m kinda nervous because I really don’t vibe with the fic but I really hope it turned out okay. Let me know what you think and reblog, comment and like if you want. ❤️ thank you again for your support, forever grateful for it. Sending lots of love to you all xx

Your hospital shift was nothing short of exhausting.

That day there were three hospitalizations in the ICU due to a terrible accident that happened in the afternoon. Three patients, all of them brain dead. The ward was short-staffed and it was just you and another nurse, Amanda, on that shift so dealing with these three new patients, along with the other ones, was really exhausting.

After closing your locker, you removed the necklace where you hung the ring and slipped it onto the ring finger of your left hand, which you did at the end of each shift. You didn't want to risk losing it during work, you’d never forgive yourself for it so you just carried it around your neck during the shifts. You looked at it for a moment with a smile on your lips thinking back to the day Jay asked you to marry him.

You took your cell phone from the pocket of your uniform and, as you walked towards the exit, bag on your shoulders, you noticed various texts from Jay, the last one dating back to a couple of minutes prior.

From Fiancée 💍, 7:17 pm

Baby we're still dealing with a difficult case, I think I'll be late tonight. Please let me know when you get home. I love you endlessly. Be careful.

From Fiancée 💍, 7:55 pm

Baby? Are you okay?

From Fiancée 💍, 8.21 pm

Should I send a patrol to the hospital? You know I'll do it love.

You chuckled not doubting about that, you knew he would. Jay had always been very protective of you, which you wouldn't admit but loved it madly. You loved he cared about you, so much he’d leave everything and everyone to come to you if you asked him to.

From you, 8.27 pm

I'm sorry love, it's been a hard shift and I just picked up my cell phone. I'm going home now. How are you? When will you finish? You’ll come home soon, right?

You left the hospital and started walking home. It was late spring and the temperatures were finally starting to warm up a bit, allowing you to finally breathe fresh air. You really needed it after a whole day of smelling the hospital and disinfectants.

Your cell phone started ringing following a call.

“Hi baby! You really miss me that much, don’t you?” You begin, bringing your cell phone to your ear, a smile on your lips.

“I always miss you, you know that,” your fiancée answered on the other end of the phone. “Are you walking home?”.

“Yes, it's a beautiful evening and I felt like walking.”

Jay sighed. “Baby you know I don't like the idea of you walking alone in the dark, you could’ve taken a taxi or waited for me to pick you up.”

“Oh come on Jay, what’s gonna happen. I'll be home in twenty minutes,” you retorted “Where are you?”.

“I'm still in the district baby, I have to finish writing a case report and then I'm finally leaving,” you heard some noise in the background but you couldn't figure out what he was doing.

Jay continued to keep you company on the phone, refusing to leave you completely alone even though you'd insisted that he finish work so he'd get back to you soon.

You asked him about his day and he started telling you what he had done as you listened to him carefully, asking him a few questions from time to time when you didn't quite understand something. You bumped into a person and quickly mumbled an apology before walking on, quickly glancing at the man who reassured you not to worry.

“Everything okay baby?” Jay asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I got distracted and bumped into a guy, no big deal. What were you saying?”.

Suddenly an unease feeling went through your body. You tried to let it go, thinking it was just a figment of your imagination.

You clasped your hand around your purse, quickly picking up your pace when you began to hear footsteps behind you.

They were so loud you seemed to hear them only a few feet away from you.

You turned around and stopped in your tracks, looking around for a few seconds before letting out a sigh of relief.

There was no one walking behind you.

Your heart was pounding and anxiety was eating up your stomach and you forgot for a moment you were on the phone with Jay.

Stay calm, you're just tired.

“Baby? You still there?” Jay's voice brought you back to reality. “Oh yeah, sorry, I couldn’t hear you anymore.” You answered. You didn't want to make him worry about your simple and stupid feeling, you knew if you told him you had the impression someone was following you he would’ve rushed to you and acted like the world was about to end.

You were sure it was just the fatigue speaking, but your senses remained alert until you got to your apartment. You took a shower while you waited for Jay to come back home, ordering food since you knew neither of you would feel like cooking.

You were about to lower the blinds in your bedroom window when, glancing outside, you noticed a figure standing on the sidewalk in front of you.

It was too dark for you to make out who it was and for a few moments you stood paralyzed, your eyes fixed on that dark figure, trying to figure out if it was just a hallucination.

The noise of the front door opening and closing made you jump in place, nearly giving you a heart attack.

You took your eyes off that figure for just a second.

Just for a moment.

And it was no longer there.

You ran your hands over your face in frustration, letting out a deep sigh at the same time before walking over to Jay, deciding you were going to ignore it and just needed a good night's sleep.

-

The following days went on quietly and the strange episode that happened a few nights before passed into oblivion. But that was before something else weird made your skin crawl.

“Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to work babe?” Jay asked you as he planted numerous kisses on your lips, making you smile between them. It was morning and you were both in the doorway, your arms around his chest as you both struggled to pull away.

“I'm positive baby, just think about resting okay? I’ll see you tonight.”

He cupped his hands over your face, giving you one last long, sweet kiss on your lips. “I'll have dinner ready for you. You be careful. I love you so much.”

“I love you more.“

The day went on peacefully. You had to work a double shift in the hospital as the nurse on the afternoon shift was sick and had to take over her place.

You loved your job, you really did. There was nothing else you would’ve done in your life but sometimes you couldn't deny how difficult and tiring it was.

“Y/N, sweetie!” You heard the voice of your colleague, Becca, calling you from a patient’s room you'd just passed. You sighed, recognizing the tone she used when she needed something.

You took a few steps back, looking into the room and noticing Becca intent on changing the unconscious patient's dressing.

“Becca I was about to leave, why do you still want to torture me?” You whined and she rolled her eyes. “Please help me change these dressings. Pretty please, I can't wait to leave too.”

She put on the sweetest puppy face she was capable of and for the second time you sighed and rolled your eyes. You ended up disinfecting your hands, putting on a pair of gloves and helping her to change the patient’s dressings.

By the time you finished you were dead tired and couldn't wait to get back to Jay and sleep, you probably would’ve just run away if anyone else had asked you any other favor. For this reason, you practically flew out of the hospital after saying goodbye to your colleagues.

It was particularly cold that evening and you found yourself rubbing your hands on your arms in an attempt to get some warmth. Thank God you took the car that day.

You walked over to your car and grabbed the keys from your bag. Before unlocking it, you noticed an object resting on the windshield, held on it by the wiper. You furrowed your eyebrows when you realized it was a rose.

A black rose.

What the fuck?

There was no card attached to it, just the rose.

Your heartbeat began to accelerate and anxiety took over you. You tried to keep calm and not freak out since there was definitely an explanation why someone had to put a damn black rose on your car.

Maybe they were wrong, maybe it was for another person and they got mixed up with the cars.

Who the hell gives a black rose though?

Your eyes scanned the parking lot around you but you didn't notice anyone suspicious or anyone nearby watching you, before dropping the rose on the asphalt, trying not to think about it. There was definitely a mistake.

The car ride was strange.

You couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. You kept looking in the rear view mirror to notice if there were any cars following you, you were probably just getting paranoid but you couldn't keep yourself calm.

When you parked in your usual spot once you got back home, that feeling of discomfort hadn't disappeared, on the contrary, it had increased.

The streetlights hadn't been turned on yet and it was dark enough outside so distinguishing objects or people was pretty hard.

After locking the car you were about to enter the apartment building when your gaze fell on the sidewalk in front of you.

You didn't know if it was just your imagination, but you swore there was someone standing, exactly in front of you and, despite the darkness, you were sure they were watching you.

You couldn't figure out who that person was, only that he was a man.

Your breath caught in your chest as you realized it was the same figure you'd spotted a few days earlier from your bedroom window.

The silence was almost deafening, making everything more frightening and suggestive.

Your muscles were paralyzed as your eyes seemed to be glued to that man.

Suddenly he moved and your heart almost stopped beating.

But when you saw him go away, that was the last thing you expected.

He did nothing, just walked away.

You tried to explain what was happening in your mind. Maybe it was just a coincidence, that man was there for another reason and you had nothing to do with it.

You let out a sigh you didn't realize you were holding and quickly entered the apartment building, rushing to your home where you found Jay on the couch watching a show.

That rose left you with a feeling of anxiety that you couldn't get rid of easily, also caused by that figure you saw standing in front of you. You didn't immediately tell Jay, you didn't want to worry him since you already knew how he’d react and he’d worry to death and go crazy about it.

You just wanted to be sure that something’s happening before alarming him.

But, knowing you like the back of his hand, he immediately sensed there was something strange, that something was bothering you. You tried to convince him otherwise, that you were just awfully tired after working a double shift at the hospital.

“Baby, really, I'm fine. I'm just dead tired,” you said for the hundredth time since you'd set foot inside the house.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me. Did someone upset you? Did something happen at work?” He kept going, thumb and forefinger under your chin to keep your head up and make you look into his eyes. Your hands slid under his shirt, caressing his chest as you placed your lips on his, trying to distract him.

“No baby, nobody did anything. Seriously, nothing happened,” you muttered against his lips, “I just missed my fiancé like hell.” You bit his bottom lip and he hissed, his breathing suddenly heavy. “Do you want to take a shower with me?”.

“Fuck yeah,” Jay had said before crashing his mouth on yours and kissing your breath away. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth as his lips moved masterfully with yours. His hands went down your body and he bent slightly before reaching your thighs, pressing his fingers against your skin and urging you to jump into his arms.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck meanwhile he carried you to the bathroom, never letting go of you. As he kicked the door open, you found yourself completely lost in him, the rest of the world vanishing and all negative thoughts forgotten.

However this sensation of bliss was destined to vanish.

In the following days the feeling that was tormenting you didn’t disappear, instead it only got worse.

You started to sense someone was constantly following you and watching you, that every time you walked in the middle of the street there was someone behind you even if every time you turned around there was no one.

After finding that rose on your car, this kept happening and almost every night for two weeks a rose would appear on your windshield.

Jay knew something was wrong, you weren't acting normally anymore.

You were always jumpy, any sudden noise made you almost have a heart attack, even if you were cooking and he suddenly hugged you from behind you’d be scared to death.

Needless to say Jay asked you a million times what was going on, what was it that was bothering you so much but you didn't want to bother him. You didn't want to upset him, make him worry about some stupid feeling of yours, not when his work was already haunting him enough.

Maybe deep down you were hoping whoever was leaving you those roses would stop and eventually leave you alone.

One evening you went out with your friends, on one of your rare days off, to try to keep your mind occupied and to catch up with them since you didn't always have the opportunity because of your hectic job.

Between laughter, jokes, chatting and various cocktails, the evening went on normally and by 1:00 am each one of you went back home. You headed towards your car, parked not far from the bar where you had all met together, calm and happy for the first time in weeks.

However, this feeling of calmness faded the instant your gaze fell on a damn black rose sitting on your windshield, again.

A wave of anger took over you.

You were tired, so damn tired of this little game that whoever it was was playing against you.

Who the hell was this person? What the fuck did they want from you? Why were they targeting you?

Whoever that person was they following you, they knew what you were doing, who you were with, and it scared the shit out of you as well as infuriating you.

You tore all the petals off that rose that would haunt you forever before throwing it angrily on the asphalt and getting into the car. You started it and quickly drove away from there, intending to go home immediately.

You wanted Jay, you wanted your fiancée. You wanted to hug him, feeling safe again in his arms and forget about all that shit that was going on.

As soon as you got home, however, your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jay laying on the sofa, asleep. The TV was on and he had his cell phone resting on his stomach, holding it close in case you called him. A smile was born on your lips and for an instant all negative thoughts flew away as your attention focused on the sleeping figure on the couch.

You leaned towards him, leaving a sweet little kiss on his forehead, also gently stroking his hair with your left hand. He stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes at the same instant, looking around before looking at you, a sigh of relief to see you were back home safe and sound.

“I’m sorry I woke you up baby,” you whispered, kissing his forehead again “Let's go to bed so you can sleep again.”

He mumbled something you couldn’t catch and rubbed his eyes before flashing a smile that nearly made your knees buckle. He nodded and then stood up, stretching his arms before pulling you into a hug. “How are you my love? Did you have fun?”.

The memory of that rose returned to your mind but for some reason, seeing his eyes so red and tired, you decided not to worry him about it and you’d talk to him about it the following morning.

“Mmh,” you muttered nodding your head “I really had fun, we needed this girls night out even though I missed you a lot.”

He chuckled, placing his hands on your face and giving you a kiss on the lips. “I’m glad darling, you deserved it since you’re working so hard lately. And I missed you so much more,” he kissed you again “Come on, let's go to sleep now.”

But that night you couldn't sleep given the thousands of thoughts that were going through your head. You couldn't help but think who would do something like that, what the hell those roses meant. Was there anyone who had it in for you? Did you do something to someone? Maybe an angry patient?

You thought again and again about who could be doing this but none occurred to you. Jay told you about his cases so many times you knew that whoever did this was doing it to torture you, to keep you on your toes, to make you live in fear.

And the fact they were succeeding was infuriating you.

Fear turned into pure terror when, while checking your cell phone, you noticed a text from an unknown number.

So pretty. Can’t wait to meet you.

How did they get your number?

You were so immersed in your thoughts you didn't notice it was morning and that Jay had woken up in the meantime. He literally jumped out of bed when you told him the time after he asked you, realizing he was late. You had the afternoon shift so you didn't have to worry about getting ready for quite a while longer.

“Baby can I talk to you about something?” You had asked him, not being able to hold it in anymore even though you knew you picked up the worst time to do it.

How smart were you for wanting to talk to him about something so delicate as he was hurring to get dressed and going to work? Not much.

“Can you tell me about it later? I'm so sorry, but I'm super late…” he replied frantically as he ran from one part of the room to another looking for the keys. He stopped for a moment in front of you, placing his hands on your face, analyzing your features. “Is it something important though? If…”

You shook his head, placing your hands on his chest and giving him a reassuring smile even if anxiety was making you nauseous. “No, it's not urgent baby. I'll tell you tonight. Now go.”

He smiled at you and made sure to leave you a long, sweet kiss on your lips before saying goodbye and literally flying out of the front door.

It could wait, right?

You tried to keep yourself busy all morning, cleaning every corner of your apartment and keeping your mind from the negative thoughts.

You couldn't deny the slightest noise made you jump, even when you accidentally dropped something on the floor. You hated this feeling, you hated having to be afraid in your own home, you hated whoever was doing this to you, you hated them so fucking much.

You nearly jumped for joy when you realized it was time to get ready for work, the thought that for few hours you'd be safe made you especially happy to go to the hospital.

You took a shower before quickly putting on your uniform and packing your bag. You checked that everything you needed was there, house and car keys and hospital locker keys, a bottle of water, tissues, tampons, some snacks, pepper spray and a small knife. Jay had forced you to carry them around constantly, asserting you could never be too safe and he’d be comfortable with the thought you had something to protect you in case of need, and never as then as then you were grateful to him.

Once you left the apartment, you made sure you locked the door at least three times. The anxiety that had been living with you for weeks was now gripping your stomach, forcing you to constantly look around and keeping you alert to any individual passing by you.

You forcefully clutched your purse to you, walking briskly to your car and unlocking before climbing in and locking yourself inside. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were even holding as your eyes continued to scan the perimeter for any type of threat.

Did you already mention how much you hated this?

“It's okay Y/N, it's okay, just take it easy,” you whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before putting on your seat belt and starting the car.

As you drove to the hospital you couldn't help but constantly look at the rear view mirror, almost as if you expected someone to be following you but they weren't, there was no car that you repeatedly noticed behind you.

Your cell phone started ringing and you took it from inside your bag, not taking your eyes off the road. Without even looking who it was, imagining for a moment it was Jay, you answered.

“Hello?”.

The smile on your lips instantly disappeared when instead of a voice you started to hear a heavy sigh, almost a pant.

“Hello?”.

You took the phone away from your ear and glanced at the screen, noting that it wasn't Jay, or anyone else you knew, but an unknown ID.

“Who is this?” You continued, hoping whoever it was would answer and maybe you'd recognize the voice. The person on the other end of the phone just kept sighing heavily, making your heart beat so hard you thought you were about to have a heart attack at any moment.

“What the fuck do you want from me?! Leave me alone!” You screamed, in the grip of fear, anxiety and anger that this person was forcing you to suffer. You closed the call and threw the cell phone on the passenger seat, not caring if it had bumped into something or was broken.

Your vision began to blur with tears fearing for your safety. They had your number. They knew where you lived. What kept them from taking you and killing you?

Your hands were shaking on the wheel as you parked at the hospital, palms sweaty. Your heart was still pounding and there wasn't a muscle in your body that didn't shake like your hands.

You took a few minutes to compose yourself, not wanting to cause questions from colleagues about the reason of your emotional state.

You took a few deep breaths and wiped your tears away, constantly telling yourself that everything was fine, that you'd be fine, that no one could hurt you in the hospital.

You never felt the need to have Jay with you like then. God you were stupid, so fucking stupid for not telling him about all of this before, for keeping everything inside you and hoping it’d eventually just go away, for underestimating what was happening. You were being stalked.

You texted him, telling him you'd arrived at the hospital and asking how his day was going, determined to tell him about the person who was stalking you as soon as you got off work.

You never thought you'd say it but you were never as glad you had a hard shift as you were that afternoon. Four patients arrived, one after suffering a stroke, two from a car accident and another after falling from the roof of his house.

The entire shift consisted of you and your colleagues running back and forth across the ward, treating patients, resuscitating them after one of them went into cardiac arrest twice. Your mind was focused on nothing but your patients and in treating them, everything else was left out of the hospital. You wouldn't let whoever was stalking you ruin your job, ever.

At the end of the shift there was no need to say you were dead tired and couldn't wait to go to sleep and although it was only 8:00 pm, the lack of sleep of the night before starting to take a toll on you.

As you placed your stethoscope in the locker and grabbed your bag, you removed your engagement ring from the chain around your neck and putted it on your finger. Your cell phone rang following a text notification and your heart skipped a beat for an instant.

The anxiety, which you managed to not to think about during the afternoon, returned stronger than ever to grip your stomach and for a moment you considered to throw the phone away.

But you thought it’d Jay and when you realized that it was indeed him, you breathed a sigh of relief. He said he'd be late that night because of a particularly difficult case and to let him know when you'd be done and went back home.

You tried to hide your sorrow, not wanting to be alone, especially in that situation.

You quickly typed a text back, asking him what he’d like for dinner, and put your cell phone in your bag. You said goodbye to your colleagues and walked towards the hospital exit.

You took a deep breath, praying to God to go home safe and sound.

Although spring had arrived it was particularly cold that evening due to the wind blowing and you cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket with you.

You walked, actually, almost ran to your car.

Anxiety was eating you alive and your heart was pounding, fear flowing like a river through your veins.

After taking the keys from your bag and unlocked the car, you quickly looked around, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you saw no one was around you.

But suddenly the keys fell out of your hands as a slimy hand placed over your mouth and an arm around your hips.

Your bag fell to the ground as you began to squirm in an attempt to free yourself from whoever grabbed you.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as the fear of dying made you fight like never before.

You screamed, your throat burning, even though because of the hand your scream came out muffled.

“Stop fighting it, it had to happen sooner or later, you knew it was going to happen sweetie,” A man's voice came hoarsely to your ears and you suppressed a gag.

You managed to hit his side with your elbow, hard enough to loosen his grip on you and you tried to push him away with all the strength you had in your body.

“You fucking whore!”.

You threw yourself to get the car keys on the asphalt but the man was faster than you and grabbed your arm, pressing his fingers into your skin with such force you were sure they’d leave a mark.

A searing, stinging pain radiated up your face as his fist hit you full-on, knocking you to the ground. You put your hands forward to try to cushion the fall, but it caused you scratches and minor lacerations on both your forearms.

“We're meant to be. I know you want it. I saw it.”

You glanced at him and almost fainted when after few seconds your recognized him.

You had already met him. He was the guy you bumped into two weeks ago.

What the fuck?!

He tried to grab your wrists but before forcing you to get up, you managed to kick him in his genital area, using all the strength you had in your body. A sound of pure pain escaped his mouth and he backed away, leaning forward and gripping the sore area with his hands.

You took advantage of that moment of weakness to get off the asphalt. You weren't going to let him hurt you, not anymore.

You grabbed his black hair in two fists and you didn't care about the damage you would’ve caused him, you didn't care you were a nurse, that you were supposed to be the one to treat people and not hurt them, but you kneed him in his face and the horrible noise his bones made, suggested you most likely broke his nose.

You pushed him to the ground, ignoring the way he grunted in pain and the blood pouring profusely from his nose, kicking him in the stomach with such force that even you were stunned.

You never fought in your entire life, never kicked anyone or punched someone, you hated the idea of hurting people but at that very moment your life was on the line and you had to protect yourself.

The man was laying on the asphalt grunting and muttering some curse word and you took advantage of it. You had to run away, that was your only chance.

You quickly grabbed your car keys and purse off the ground before opening the door and getting in. You locked yourself in before you started fumbling to get the vehicle going.

Your hands were shaking and your vision was still blurry from the punch he had thrown at you.

You gave him a quick look, terrified he’d get up and kill you on the spot.

You didn't know how but you managed to start the car and without even looking back you drove away from that parking lot. You knew you couldn't drive in those conditions but you just wanted to get away from that monster.

You didn't know where to go, you didn't want to go home, the terror of being attacked there would’ve killed you so you went to the place where there was the only person you wanted to see, the only one who could make you feel better, safe.

The journey to the district was awful.

Your body was driving but it was as if you were experiencing everything from the outside, as if your soul had left your body and was looking at you from afar.

You didn't know how you managed to drive and not run over anyone or crash yourself.

Your breathing was still quickening, your chest rose and fell as if you'd run a marathon, your trembling hands struggling to hold onto the steering wheel. Your vision was blurred due to copious tears flowing from your eyes and streaming down your face, not even realizing you were crying desperately.

Your face was in pain and you were sure a huge bruise would appear on your cheek, although you didn't care, grateful you were still alive, that you managed to escape.

When you arrived at the district, you didn’t care about parking your car properly, or to take your bag or lock it after getting off. You just wanted Jay.

A smile appeared on Sergeant Platt's face the moment she saw you walking up the stairs, but when she noticed the way you were running, it immediately disappeared.

“Oh my God Y/N!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw you up close. Your face was streaked with tears, an expression of pure terror and fear contouring your features, your uniform stained with dust. She ran towards you, placing her hands on your arms. “What happened to you?” She took a look at your body looking for any other injury. “Oh dear. It's okay, whatever happened you're safe here.”

You kept breathing hard and your eyes were so full of tears you could barely see her.

“Shh it's okay. Come on, let's go sit down.”

She put her arm around your shoulders as she took your hand with her free one as a sign of support. She led you into one of the break rooms, making you sit on the couch and sitting next to you.

Her hand kept squeezing yours meanwhile the other stroked your back, trying to calm you down.

“Do you want some water?” She asked and you nodded, not being able to speak at the moment. Trudy got up and ran to get a bottle of water.

She handed it to you after opening the cap and it broke her heart to see the way you were shaking. “T-thanks,” you stammered, your chest shaking with sobs. “J-Jay.”

“I'm going to call him right away, don't move from here,” she said, seeing the way you needed him. She got up and ran upstairs, where Intelligence was still busy working on the case.

Everyone turned to the sergeant, who was at the top of the stairs with an expression that did not bode well. “Trudy, did something happen?” Voight asked as soon as he saw her but her gaze fell on Jay, who was standing by the whiteboard, arms folded across his chest.

“Jay… It's Y/N…” She spoke, saying nothing else. “She's downstairs now…”

Jay's eyes widened at the sergeant's words, his eyebrows furrowed in an expression of worry and fear. He knew something was up, by the way Platt looked at him and a wave of anxiety hit him, his mind now focused only on you.

Without even letting her finish the sentence, he quickly moved away from the others, running down the stairs, almost tripping on his feet. Trudy followed him, giving no explanation to the rest of the team who just exchanged a worried look.

“Where's she?” he asked hurriedly and Trudy pointed him to the room you were in.

He burst into the room and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting on the sofa but immediately worrying when he saw the state you were in. Trudy closed the door behind him, leaving you two alone and not giving any other cops a chance to snoop.

You had your elbows resting on your knees, your hands on your face as your leg bounced up and down almost obsessively.

“Baby!”.

His voice made you snap your head to him and before you knew it, you were rushing into his arms, squeezing yours around his torso with so much force you were almost afraid he’d disappear.

Jay was surprised for a moment but immediately returned that hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hugging you like he never did. He had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was he knew it was serious and that was enough to make his heart race.

“I'm here baby, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your head, stroking your hair. You cried in his arms, with relief because he was finally there with you.

His heart sank as he heard you cry like that, feeling helpless like never before. You kept shaking and, without even knowing anything, Jay promised himself whoever had done this to you was a dead person.

“Baby you're making me worry to death. Please talk to me,” his voice coming out desperately. You broke away from his embrace, but still remained very close to him. “Darling, look at me. What happened?”.

His hands rested on your face and inevitably on the bruised cheek. You winched in pain and this didn't escape Jay, who was on the verge of losing his mind by then. “Y/N. Look at me,” he urged and you did as he said, lifting your head and making eye contact with him.

His breath caught in his chest as his gaze fell on the clear purple bruise on your cheek.

“What the fuck? Y/N…” he stammered, an incredulous and horrified look on his face as he looked at you. He took his hand away from your wounded cheek, placing two fingers under your chin and turning your head to inspect it better. “Shit baby… What happened? Who did this to you?”.

His heart was pounding in his chest and as his eyes looked at every single inch of that bruise that lined your cheek, every single cell in his body lit up with rage. Seeing the desperation on your face, the look of pure terror with which you were looking at him, the way your eyes were so full of tears, Jay felt as if he had stabbed and someone had twisted the knife over and over again.

“I-I… H-he…” you stammered meaninglessly, sobbing between words clearly still unable to speak.

“Oh baby come here,” he hugged you again, this time even harder than he had before. “My beautiful princess. It's okay, it's okay, you're safe now do you hear me? You're safe.” He tried to comfort you “I'm here now, I'm here. You’re not alone anymore and I will never let anyone hurt you again. You’re safe with me my love.”

“I-I was…” another sob “So… S-so scared…” you cried into his shirt, wetting it with your tears.

“I know, my baby, I know,” he whispered, placing lots of little kisses on your head. “I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to happen, not to you. But you're safe now, I'm here with you, you’re safe with me.” He kept repeating to you.

You both sat on the couch and he continued to hug you indefinitely, holding you and cradling you in his arms until you calmed down. “Sorry,” you muttered, your voice weak as you pulled away from his embrace, gesturing at his tear-stained t-shirt.

“Don’t even say it,” he replied. He raised his hand and stroked your hair, tucking it behind your ears as you kept your gaze on your hands. He was about to continue speaking when his eyes fell on the bruises on your arm, visible outside of your uniform.

His fingers lifted the sleeve to take a better look of the bruises on your skin. He immediately understood they were finger markers, a sign that someone had violently grabbed your arm.

“Oh darling,” he whispered, shattered at the sight of those horrible marks on your beautiful skin “What have they done to you?” His fingers caressed you gently, being careful not to hurt you further.

He was furious, like he had been a few other times in his life, and he still hadn't heard the story.

“Tell me what happened, please.”

You sighed and with still trembling voice, started talking. You told him about everything, about the roses, about the feeling of being followed, about the text, about the call and about the man who attacked you, the fact you already saw him for few seconds weeks prior, how he hit you and how you defended yourself.

“Why the hell didn't you tell me about it sooner?!” Jay snapped, when you finished speaking “This was never going to happen dammit! I would’ve killed that fucking son of a bitch.”

He leapt to his feet, running his hands over his face and pacing around the room. He didn't want to pick on you, it wasn't your fault and he knew it, but he was so damn angry, so angry you had to go through this, that he wasn't there to protect you.

His eyes landed on you noticing how yours quickly filled with tears again at his words and the tone of voice he used. “No, no, no baby, don't cry,” he rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you and wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to blame you. It's not your fault, please don't cry.”

His hands rested on your knees as you looked at him with sad, broken eyes, making his heart break over and over again. “You’re right I should have told you about it…”

“No, baby, don't get this into your head okay? It's not your fault, I’m so sorry for snapping like that I’m just so fucking furious for what that piece of shit did to you. It’s his fault, he hurt you and make you go through all of this. I hate you had to go through this alone and I wasn’t there to help you,” He sighed “I knew something wasn't right, I should have…” Jay stopped his eyes suddenly widening as you looked at him confused.

“Oh my god, that's… That's what you wanted to tell me this morning, isn't it?”. You didn't answer, effectively giving him the answer he needed.

Jay scrambled to his feet again, as if he'd just been given an electric shock. “Fuck!” He tried to keep control but you jumped as he kicked a chair in anger before placing his hands on the table and bowing his head, his back towards you.

“Jay…” you mumbled, standing up and walking towards him. You placed a hand on his back even though he didn't move from that position.

“It's my fault, this…” he choked on his own words “If I had stopped and listened to you this morning… Shit… It shouldn't have happened… I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, hey, no baby,” you interrupted him “Don't be hypocritical and tell me to not blame me and then do the same.”

He turned his head to you and it broke your heart to see his eyes full of tears. “I was late Y/N… I… This happened to you because I didn't stop for five fucking minutes to listen to you!”.

“Jay, listen to me,” you spoke to him softly. You lightly pulled his arm, causing him to straighten his back. You cupped your hands over his face, stroking his cheeks. “It's that crazy bastard's fault okay? Not yours, not mine.”

“If something happened to you… God…”

“No. Let's not do this. No ifs and buts. I'm here and I'm fine, I was scared shitless, I'm still scared shitless, but I'll be fine. You’re here with me and you’re all I need baby. These are just bruises and they'll be gone in a couple days,” you croaked “You should’ve seen how he looked then.”

He sighed before letting out a chuckle though the tears, hugging you for the third time, his hand stroking your hair. “We'll get him okay? And I'll fucking make him pay for what he did to you.”

You and Jay went upstairs, not wanting to let you disappear from his sight for even a second, after reassuring Trudy and telling her what had happened. Needless to say, she threatened to kill the bastard herself if Jay didn't. The way he answered told you that there was no need and that he’d certainly sort it out.

“I'll get you some ice for the bruise,” Kim had offered. The rest of the team didn't take it quite well either and Voight promised you they’d catch the bastard who hurt you. You and Jay had been together for a long time and you were part of the group now, an attack on one of them was an attack on all of them.

“Thank you,” you thanked her with a warm smile, placing the bag of ice on your face. The cold sent a rush of shivers up your spine.

“Come on baby, let's go in the break room,” Jay had said, his hand resting on your lower back. However, your gaze fell on the white board on which various photos and sentences were hung.

At first you didn't notice, but when your eyes saw a particular photo, you did a double take, stopping in your tracks and lowering the hand that was holding the ice.

“Baby? Are you okay?” Jay immediately asked alarmed, then following the direction of your gaze. “Oh. That's the case we're investigating.”

The photo just on the blackboard wasn't clear enough, it was a frame taken from a surveillance video but you could distinguish the features of the man it portrayed.

You stopped breathing for a second and your mind retraced in those brief moments your aggression, still fresh and imprinted in your memory.

“Y/N?” Jay pressed, worried about your reaction as his hand caressed your back.

“It-it… Jay…” you breathed out “It's him…”

“What?!” Jay's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and everyone in the unit couldn't mask their surprise.

“It was him… H-he attacked me… Oh god…”

Your hands start shaking again and you thanked that Jay was there to hold you or you would’ve probably collapsed on the floor.

Your eyes moved from that frame to the other hanging photos. There were four photos depicting four different women, more or less your age and similar in appearance to yours. Alongside these were other photos portraying instead what were unmistakably the victims’ bodies.

You were in complete shock.

What were the odds that the man stalking you was the same Jay was investigating on?

“C’mon let’s go,” Jay put his arm around your shoulders, leading you to the break room and closing the door behind him.

You weren't even crying. You were just completely shocked.

“Jay… He…” you stammered as if you were having trouble coordinating your thoughts. He put both of his hands on your shoulders.

“Baby, just breathe okay? Do it with me, take a deep breath.”

You shook yourself out of his grip, now in a panic. How could you calm down?

“He was… He would’ve killed me Jay, like… Like those women… Holy shit…” you continued to babble. You couldn't believe it. You understood that bastard was to be locked up somewhere, but you never, ever imagined he was a serial killer, that he’d done that before to those poor women. What if you didn't fight? What if he managed to overpower you?

Jay closed his hands into a fist, pressing his nails into his palms in an attempt to let out even a tiny bit of the anger, rage and fear he was feeling at the moment.

He didn't even want to imagine it, the thought was enough to make him sick. He didn't want to imagine what could happen to you. He run the risk of losing you forever without even realizing it.

Jay couldn't exist in a world where you weren't there. He couldn't even pass the idea of not having you next to him, the pain from this thought alone was unbearable and it was enough to make his heart shatter to pieces. Damn it, he asked you to marry him, you were his fiancée, his soon to be wife, the future mother of his children. You had to start a family together, buy a bigger house to raise your children and you’d live and grow old together, forever.

He couldn't accept some son of a bitch threatened to take you away from him, the most beautiful person he'd ever met, the love of his life, his anchor and his salvation.

“What happened to those women?” You asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“Baby…”

“No Jay, please, just… Just tell me. What happened to them?”.

Jay took a deep breath, knowing that telling you would only make you feel worse. “No, love. Listen to me now,” he walked over to you, placing a hand on your healthy cheek and stroking your skin with his thumb. “Don't torture yourself like this, it won't do you any good to know, please trust me. You were so brave and you managed to knock out that son of a bitch and now you're here with me, safe, so just think about this okay? I beg you. I don't even want to think about what happened to those poor women, I don't want to think something like that could’ve happened to you and I don't want you to think about it either.”

He was right. You didn't want to know, sometimes it was better to live in the unknown.

“I'm so proud of you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead as his fingers wiped away your tears with excruciating delicacy. “I would’ve died if anything had happened to you baby, I love you so, so fucking much. I couldn't have survived without you.”

“I love you so much Jay,” you too replied in a whisper before sharing a soft, sweet kiss, your nerves starting to finally calm down. “What happens now?”.

“You’ll stay here and we’ll continue to work non-stop until we catch that bastard.”

“Are you sure I can stay here?”.

“Is this even a question?” He looked at you as if you were an alien “Yes baby, of course you can. You have stay here. I need to know you're safe or I won't be able to think of anything else and I know nothing can happen to you if you’re here. If you need anything call me and I’ll be here okay? Try to get some rest, and put ice on your cheek.”

You nodded, knowing that even you wouldn't feel safe anywhere else but there in the district.

After sitting on the small sofa in the break room you eventually fell asleep, tired and worn out from the shift, the day's events and the lack of sleep from the previous night.

Jay and the rest of the team worked nonstop to try and locate the suspect whose name was still unknown. After learning you had hit his nose and you had probably broken it, they called the hospitals in the area and within a radius of about 20km – deducing he wouldn’t be so stupid to go to the hospital where you worked – with the hope that he’d go to get treated.

This hope turned out to be a reality when Kevin was told by a hospital just outside the city that there was a patient matching the description who was still there waiting to be treated for his broken nose.

When Jay went into the break room to warn you they'd found a lead, his heart skipping a beat seeing you asleep. Your head was resting on the back of the couch, your arms folded across your abdomen as your chest slowly rose and fell.

A sad smile spread across his face as he approached you with silent steps, his chest tightening at the sight of that horrible bruise on your cheek. As his eyes roamed on your body, he then noticed some scratches on your forearms and his stomach dropped again for the thousand time that night. He’d never forgive himself for not being able to help you, for failing to realize sooner what was happening, allowing someone to hurt you, he was hating himself for not being there to protect you.

He decided not to wake you up and he leaned over you, gently stroking your hair and tucking a strand behind your ear that had fallen in front of your face. He kissed your forehead, taking an extra second to savor the moment, grateful to still being able to do it.

“I love you so much my baby,” he whispered, “Everything will be okay, I promise you.”

After telling Trudy to stay by your side and never leave you alone, he headed towards the hospital where the suspect was supposed to be, his blood boiling with anger, his hands shaking with the frenzy of being able to have that son in his hands.

The stalker, however, after seeing the cops coming, didn't hesitate for a second to run away. Jay chased after him, determined not to let him get away.

“Chicago PD! Stop now!” Jay shouted as he quickly descended the emergency stairs and followed the man, skipping a few steps at a time in an attempt to reach him first. The fact the man was injured went to his advantage as Jay took the opportunity to jump on his back, causing both of them to fall heavily to the ground.

Jay's vision immediately blurred with anger.

He punched him in the face, using all the strength he had in his body to hurt him. “Son of a bitch!” He exclaimed through clenched teeth, punching him again and again. He didn't care about anything, he didn't care about the consequences there could be. He just wanted to see him suffer, to see him writhe in pain and fear, just the way you did.

“You made a fucking mistake tonight,” Jay spat, standing up and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up like a sack of potatoes before slamming him heavily against the wall. The man coughed, letting out sounds of pain even if Jay couldn't care less. “You'll wish you’d never met her when I'm done with you, you worthless piece of shit.”

He hit him in the face with another punch, not caring about the blood splattered on him after each blow.

He didn't even realize he wasn't alone anymore. Voight was there and watched the scene without batting an eyelid. He deserved it, he deserved everything Jay would do to him, not just for you but also for those poor women who weren’t lucky enough to survive. He knew there was no way to stop him, even if he wanted to, especially since you were involved.

Jay hit the man's head against the wall, then pushing him to the ground. He approached him and without any mercy and without even acknowledging the man's suffering, he kicked him in the stomach.

“Fuck…” the man murmured weakly.

“Look at me you son of a bitch!” Jay cursed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt again and punching him in the face. “You thought it was fucking fun to hurt my fiancée?!”.

Another strong punch.

“Answer me!” He shouted, knowing he’d not receive a response.

Jay had completely lost control.

His mind was only picturing your wounded and tear-stained face, your terrified expression, your eyes full of tears, the bruises on your arm, on your face, the scratches, the way you hugged him so tightly because of the terror you felt, the fear you must have felt in those weeks.

“You thought you’d get away with it huh?! Making my future wife's life a fucking hell?!” He growled again, kicking this time the man’s face. “Making her scared of her own fucking shadow?!”.

Another kick in the stomach.

He was about to kill him and he didn’t give a fuck.

He bent over the man who was then barely breathing. “Did you like putting your useless dirty hands on my girl, huh?” he hissed as his foot stepped on one of the man’s hand with so much force until he heard his screams and his bones cracking.

He didn't move anymore, now unconscious and covered in his own blood.

Voight intervened at that point, not even knowing if he was alive or not. “That's okay Jay, calm down now.” He placed his hands on his shoulders, pulling him away from the unconscious man. Jay was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a marathon, his angry eyes still focused on the bastard lying on the ground.

“Now get away from here. Go out from the emergency exit and drive back to your fiancée, you were always there with her okay? I’m sure she needs you now.” Voight had ordered him but Jay didn't respond at first. “Halstead.”

At that point Jay focused his gaze on his boss and nodded feebly, casting one last glance at the stalker before walking away.

He wiped his face and hands with a handkerchief he had found in the car, trying to ignore the pain in his swelled hand, his knuckles red.

He never regretted what he did.

He had always condemned the brutal ways some cops used, like his own boss did sometimes, but in that moment he didn't stop to think about how he’d not hesitate even a second to do it again and make suffer anyone who’d hurt you.

When it came to you he’d lose his mind, his judgment clouded. You were the most important person in his life, the most precious of treasures, and he’d protect you with his own life if he could, if it meant keep you safe forever. It may have seemed an exaggeration, it may have seemed crazy, but he didn't care, God, he would’ve burn the entire city to the ground if it meant protecting you.

And as he drove to the district, eager to see you again, only one thought ran through his mind: how much he regretted not making that piece of shit suffer more.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @mrspeacem1nusone, @halstead-severide-fan, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes

Jay Halstead tag list: @burgstead, @bebataylor84, @ares-kelani-wayne, @ixna-mikaelsxn, @sande5098, @smoothdogsgirl, @withakindheartx, @jess2013, @maddu-oliveira, @lovemesomepietro, @onechicagodrawings, @jinxfan18, @ready-hit-it, @rainroo2, @tinfoilhat2719, @upsteadlovingheart, @nevaehstreater18, @sophiatellerrhodes, @dedlund82, @kellykidd, @rippl3s, @stephanie708, @annahargrove, @smutlOver, @kuroe-san, @caroldanverwife, @baby, @nosy09, @luvreading67, @danielmarie, @saiyuo12, @nachodaze, @waywardhunter95, @deanstead, @fighterkimburgess, @ephemeral314, @mads-weasley, @itskellysev, @lovemedlife, @atarmychick007, @amazedbyitall, @glodessa, @xeleni-dutchnurse, @ossypooh, @itriedtoexplain, @randomwriter1021, @averyhotchner, @ellavanderberg, @mrshalsteadxx, @junevoidzombie, @nocturnalherb16, @croissantthief, @jayhalsteadsbadge, @youngblood199456, @dreamss-wavess, @halsteadloversworld, @laaaauuraaaaa, @firerusher, @itserickalove, @23victoria, @slytherlight, @goingwiththewind, @notanordinaryprincess95, @cadyfanninger, @acewritesfics, @iloveest, @instantpizzacat, @wickedlovely121, @hart-kinsella, @novabckly

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#jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jesse lee soffer #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead one shot #imagine #jay halstead angst #jay halstead imagines #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead gif #jay halstead masterlist #jay x y/n #jay x you #y/n #reader insert #female!reader #one shot #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd one shot #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #writer #imagines #jay halstead fic #reader

[nereidprinc3ss]

behave

in which fem!reader REALLY wants spencer's attention while he's working

18+ (no smut but sex is talked about) warnings: mentions of sex, spencer grabs readers wrist to stop her from doing something but its not violent, reader is referred to as a girl, no use of y/n, um i think that's it WC: 870 a/n: i have damn near 40 pages of spencer WIP so im biting the bullet and posting some of it. also.. if you want a plot... babe this is not the place for you im sorry... ive never even heard of a plot actually. i dont know about rising and falling action... i dont believe in that. it sounds fake

It feels like Spencer has been at his desk for hours. 

And for hours you've been lounging on the couch, reading your book in silence so as to let him work. But you're becoming... antsy. Impatient. Every time you drop your book and stare at him, willing your white-hot gaze to draw his attention; nothing. He just keeps shuffling papers, signing, writing, reading reading reading. 

At ten, you give up.  

You make a show of slamming your book shut, sighing, slowly sitting up, stretching, standing, stretching again--when you turn your head, expecting your little performance to have at least earned a look from him; still, nothing. 

"Spence?" you ask, innocuously, as you round the couch and draw toward him carefully, slowly, on light feet. A display of faux innocence. It’s not that you intend to bother him, per se--you're just so bored. 

He hums in response, eyes still glued to his work as he searches for something among the mess of paper. 

You come to a stop in front of the mahogany desk, tracing the edge of it idly with wandering fingertips. 

"What are you looking at?" you ask, in reference to a photo he seems to now be studying intently.  

"Nothing you need to see," is his muttered response, quickly flipping the photo face down on the desk and picking up a form walled in migraine-inducing tiny black text. You watch the way he scans the paper, brow knitted, and eyes squinted, clearly not paying you very much attention. 

You move languidly around the desk, letting the wood drag against your hip the whole way, before reaching for the overturned photo--just to see what he'll do. 

Spencer catches your wrist, his grip gentle and warm but not without portent. "What did I just say, grabby?" 

Sadly, they're the most words you've gotten out of him since this afternoon. 

You sigh dramatically and drape yourself across his lap, looping your arms around his neck. To your initial satisfaction he shifts slightly to accommodate you--and then continues to look over your shoulder like he hardly notices the pretty girl on top of him. 

"When will you be done?" you purr, tracing his jaw with a finger.

"I'll be done when I'm done." 

God, he can be stubborn. 

"Can you be done any sooner than that?" 

"What do you think I'm going to say to that," comes his flat reply, still not sparing you a glance. You watch enviously as his eyes dart down the paper he's reading over your shoulder.  

"Then I'm staying right here until you're finished." 

"You can stay here if you can behave." 

You scoff, bunching the fabric on the back of his shirt in your fists. "What do you mean, if I can behave?" 

Finally, you hear Spencer set down his pen, and he leans back in his chair to regard you. His gaze finally on you is like an ice bath. You literally have to repress the urge to shiver under his evaluation; the slightly raised eyebrows, the line of his mouth a little harder than usual. His 'you know exactly what I'm talking about so don't play dumb' look. 

For a few tense seconds, you let your eyes dart between his, not wanting to break first. Unfortunately, you think that look of his could freeze saltwater.  

"Fine," you mutter, flushing when you look down at his shirt collar instead. If you're being reasonable, he probably is doing something important. You drag your gaze back up to his and see that his eyes have softened. 

"Thank you," he says, gentler, squeezing your leg before running his hand over it back and forth a few times. "I know I'm not being very fun today. When I'm done we can do whatever you want to do." 

The urge to say, 'whatever I want to do?' is strong, but you manage to bite your tongue as he reaches back over you to continue his work. Instead, you content yourself to lean against him, allowing his solidity and warmth to envelop you for some immeasurable stretch of time.  

Rain starts up, battering the windowpane and accented by deep rolls of thunder. The scratch of Spencer's pen on paper, the rustle of files, and the scent of patchouli and amber begins to lull you into a doze--a comfortable place between awake and asleep. It's the kind of comatose unconsciousness that bends and liquifies time, and you don’t even realize you fell asleep until you’re waking up. 

Spencer murmurs your name, brushing your hair carefully out of your face. "Did you fall asleep, angel?" His voice is soft, just above a whisper.  

"Mhm," you groan, rubbing your eyes. "How long has it been?" 

"A few hours," he sighs. "That file took a lot longer than it should have, I'm sorry." 

You're still bleary as you speak next; 

"The thing was sex." 

"What?" he laughs, rubbing your leg as you adjust yourself in his lap. 

"You said we could do whatever I wanted to do when you were done, and it was sex. But now I'm tired." 

"Let's get you to bed," he begins, "and revisit the sex idea in the morning. Does that work for you?" 

You smile against his shirt, eyes already fluttering closed again. 

"Mhm..." 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n

[foxcantswim]

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Silence Quite This Loud]

(gif by me)

Vanessa started to distance herself after you confessed your feelings to her, the pain in your heart is becoming too much to handle. Content: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Fluff, Mentions of First Kiss/Confessions, Mike being a precious best friend(mike x reader if you squint), Vanessa being stupid, Animatronics doing their best Warnings: Split Personality v̶̞͍̔a̸̮͂̈́͘ǹ̸̝̿ṅ̴̦͛̓y̷̩̞̾̓̚ (heavily implied) WC: 2,419

(Freddy Fazbear's is still open in the day in this fic!)

You had been invited to a friend of a friend's party... You weren't exactly thrilled considering you would barely know anybody there, but your friend had bugged you all week encouraging you to go. She ensured that you would know a couple people.

So, begrudgingly, you agreed. You weren't too excited about going to Freddy Fazbear's during the day considering you already worked the night shift there, though. Why they wanted to rent out Freddy's of all places for an afternoon was beyond you, but you decided to suck it up.

You'd been holed up in your apartment for the past few weeks now, sulking in your own emotions. You had confessed how you felt to Vanessa at the end of one of your night shifts. The longing touches and looks were confirmation enough for you to know that she felt the same... Hell, you had even shared a drunken kiss a couple days beforehand.

So why had she rejected you?

Your heart ached to know, but she had stopped showing up to your night shifts and stopped responding to your calls so there was no way to even ask her. You hadn't seen her in almost three months now. A part of you didn't even want to talk to her anyways. You were hurt and angry at her silence, you felt as if she didn't care about you or or your feelings... So you shook your head and decided to brush her away from your mind.

With a sigh, you threw on some fancy(ish) clothes and headed for the door, perhaps this party would be a good distraction? It would be nice to get out and mingle.

Okay, maybe the party wasn't a good idea.

There was an extreme amount of people crowding the room. You felt extremely out of place.

Your friend had greeted you and seemed excited to have you, before she was unwillingly dragged away by a group of people who were already one too many drinks in. You bit your lip awkwardly and shifted your feet.

Now you were standing alone in a crowded room, simply looking around. That's when you locked eyes on a certain someone. Why the hell was she here?

Vanessa.

She was currently sitting at one of the many tables chatting away with some people you'd never seen before.

Your palms became sweaty as your balled your fists. Your heart beat quickly as you tried to decide whether or not to talk to her.

But before you could, another familiar face came into view as they tapped you on the shoulder.

"Oh, thank god you're here," your fists unclenched as a wave of relief washed over you.

"If you were in love with me you could've just said."

You rolled your eyes.

Mike knew you were in love with Vanessa, he had teased you about it constantly for the past few months now. He also knew that Vanessa reciprocated those feelings.

"Couldn't leave my favourite co-worker all alone," he smiled.

"I'm your only co-worker," you rolled your eyes.

The two of you made your way through the room, in search of empty seats. Your eyes landed on a particular blonde once again as passed by her table.

The pain in your heart quickly returned again, you couldn't stop the frown from appearing on your face.

Vanessa had froze upon seeing you pass, but she made no effort to get up and greet you so you turned your head.

"Hey, 'Nessa!" Mike exclaimed. You almost bumped into the back of him as he stopped, "Didn't expect to see you here."

She cleared her throat, "Er... Yeah... Friend of a friend of a friend invited me," she said, doing her best to look anywhere but in your direction.

Mike started to introduce himself to Vanessa's friends(?).

Vanessa could only stop herself from looking away from you for so long. The silence between the two of you was loud in your ears, the chatters and laughs from the people around you were almost deafened as you couldn't help but search Vanessa's eyes. You started to play with a loose thread on your sleeve, feeling slightly nervous.

You felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest, so you pushed past Mike to quickly find an empty seat far away from Vanessa. Mike looked between Vanessa and you in confusion before he quickly excused himself to follow you.

"Hey, hey, what's the rush?" he asked. You both found a small table free to the side of the main stage.

"Nothing. Just wanted to find a spot to sit before everywhere was taken," you mumbled as you focused on the animatronics dancing on the stage.

"Come on, Y/N," he said with genuine concern, "I know you. Something's got you down."

You couldn't help but glance over towards Vanessa in the distance again. Mike noticed.

"Something up with you two?"

You groaned in frustration before banging your head on the table.

"I'll take that as a yes-"

You cut him off, "I told her."

His eyes widened as a grin appeared on his face, "Finally!" he chanted, "I've been waiting for way too long for this to happen."

Your head remained on the table...

His smile dropped, "I'm guessing it didn't go well..."

You felt the need to rant suddenly surface as you lifted your head, "Why is she acting like this? She's stopped speaking to me and she's pretending as if there's nothing between us when there clearly is!"

"I did notice that she hasn't stopped by on our night shifts in quite a while now."

You sighed, feeling sadness wash over you - the exact opposite feeling you wanted tonight, "We kissed... We were both a bit tipsy but she never said she regretted it. So I told her how I felt when she stopped by on my shift a few days after. And she kind of just... Excused herself and left. Haven't spoken since. It's been almost two months now."

He almost couldn't believe what you were saying, "Three months? Seriously?"

You nodded as your lip quivered.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, "Something must be up with her. She's head over heels for you, Y/N. Told me herself."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I didn't wanna be the one to break the news to you, though. That was on her."

You shook your head in disbelief, "Then why is she doing this to me? It's killing me. I've never felt like this before, Mike. I never thought I would miss someone so much."

Your mind searched for the memories of the countless nights of you and Vanessa making silly forts with the animatronics, cuddling amongst the pillows and blankets as you told each other stories. All those stares that lasted way too long or those soft squeezes you would both do on each others arms... Definitely platonic.

"Only way to know is to ask her."

"She clearly wants nothing to do with me," you noticed that your voice started to crack, tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

"You deserve closure, Y/N... At least try, okay? I want the best for you."

Mike had eventually gone off to mingle, introducing himself to the birthday girl (who was also one too many drinks in). You were left near the stage, watching the animatronics perform. They kept on glancing at you, you could tell they were concerned and worried for you. You had vented and confided in them on many of your night shifts after Vanessa stopped talking to you.

Bonnie had started to point his hand over towards Vanessa, encouraging you to go and talk to her.

Your nerves were definitely getting to you. You had been glancing at Vanessa every so often for the past hour now, and not once had she looked back at you. You felt as if she was purposefully trying her hardest to ignore you.

You decided to take one final... and surprisingly Vanessa had finally turned to look at you in return.

You could see her sigh as she looked away before she nodded at her friends and stood up. Your heart pounded in your chest in anticipation. You weren't sure if you wanted her to come over or not... But you didn't really have a choice in the matter as the blonde slowly made her way towards you.

She took the spare seat next to see and sat down with a sigh.

"Fancy seeing you here..." you muttered, your eyes still focusing on the animatronics in front of you.

Vanessa rolled her eyes at your tone, "Come on, Y/N-"

You already scoffed, "Don't act as if I'm the one in the wrong here. You haven't spoken to me in three months."

"With good reason."

"I doubt it," you said, still refusing to look at her.

Vanessa simply took a deep breath, leaning back into her chair as her eyes landed on the animatronics too. She couldn't stop a brief smile from appearing on her face as she remembered the last time she had seen you. You had both been giggling at the fact that Bonnie had fallen over and knocked over the fort, covering you both (and the other animatronics) in blankets. And one thing lead to another, Vanessa had ended up on top of you and that's when you confessed your feelings... And then she left.

The smile was replaced by a frown.

"I thought you felt the same, Nessy," you said, feeling the tears creeping back in.

"Y/N-" she began, feeling her own heart starting to ache.

"I'm sorry if I read it wrong. But after all we've been through and when we kissed, I just..." you shook your head, in hopes of ridding the tears. One slipped through and down your cheek, "Mike told me you felt the same at least."

Vanessa was gonna kill him.

Vanessa tapped the table mindlessly, trying to decide on what to say.

A part of her wanted to give in and reciprocate everything you were feeling, because she did in fact feel the same. She had indeed fell hard.

But another part of her was eating away at her mind, telling her to just leave again. A crackled voice in her head telling her to save you whilst she still could.

"Tell me you don't feel the same. And I will drop this, Vanessa," you finally looked towards her, she couldn't help but bite her lip at the sight of your glossy eyes.

She shook her head, looking down, "Y/N... It's not that I don't feel the same. I do. It's just... so complicated."

A small part of you felt relief at the confirmation that she did feel the same, but all you felt right now was confusion and concern as to why she didn't want to act on it.

"Is there anything I can do to make this right?" you started to plead.

With another shake of her head, she replied, "You have nothing to make right, Y/N. It's my fault. I shouldn't have left without telling you anything, especially for almost three months..." she paused before glancing at the animatronics on the stage. Freddy gave her a slight nod, encouraging her to continue and tell you what was eating away at her head and heart.

"What's holding you back, Nessy?" you whispered, moving your chair slightly closer to hers.

She looked into your eyes, "I... I can't tell you, Y/N. I really want to, but I can't. It will destroy whatever we have between us."

You nodded your head towards the animatronics, "If I can handle ghosts possessing animatronics, I can handle whatever you have going on."

She couldn't stop a smile from appearing on her face at that. It soon dropped though when the nagging glitchy voice in her head started to resurface again. She slowly reached to place her hand on top of yours that was on the table, she was surprised when you didn't move.

"I don't know, Y/N..." she said, her thumb rubbing the back of your hand soothingly.

You leaned in closer to her, "Help me understand."

She couldn't help but lean in closer too, instinctively.

Her other hand came up to rest on your cheek. Your heart raced at her touch, you were hopefully of her opening up. The many walls Vanessa had built up were extremely hard to break down, and you prayed that you would be the one to get through to her.

Your face reddened upon feeling her breath against your lips. Right now you didn't care if any of the other party-goers saw you, all you could focus on right now was the woman in front of you.

Vanessa finally leaned in to kiss you, unable to hold herself back. Her lips felt even better than you remembered, the alcohol you had drank the first time made the whole experience fuzzy.

The kiss was over way too quick, almost as if it never happened. Almost as if Vanessa regretted it.

"Vanessa?" you muttered, waiting for her to decide on what she was going to do.

She pulled her hands away, "I can't," you noticed the tear fall from her eye as she abruptly stood up, "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"Vanessa," you said, trying to stop her. But she turned and left without warning, moving fast through the crowd.

The silence soon surrounded you once again. Not even the music coming from the stage or the chatter of people around you reached your ears. All you could hear was the harsh pounding of your heart in your chest, drumming loud in your ears.

You were thankful that Mike had shown up to this party. He found you late into the evening curled up backstage, and he wasted no time in getting you out of there - more than happy to listen to you vent as he held you close in his home.

You both hoped that Vanessa would show up to a night shift again.

You hoped you would get some sort of closure one day. You hoped that your story with Vanessa wasn't over yet.

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp ; @emiliaisdead ; @natashas-whore ; @danveration

when a swiftie gets their hands on a vanessa/reader fic

#fnaf #fnaf movie #vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly x reader #vanessa monroe #fnaf vanessa #vanny x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf fanfic #taylor swift #swifties

[teardrop-scales]

Hi I have a request! How about a love potion one shot or head canon with lmk Wukong and fem (s/o)? Please and thank u 🙏🏻

Love potion: Sun Wukong x reader headcannons 🧪

A.N: I decided to do this in a headcannon format, but more story-driven one, and I actually changed your request a bit so Wukong and reader aren't a couple yet in this. Hope that's okay!

You were having a peaceful afternoon after your early morning shift at work when MK called you.

You were surprised at this; you knew he was supposed to be training with your friend/crush Wukong and usually that made him quite busy and unreachable. So you knew that something must've happened.

When you picked up the phone , it turned out that The Monkey King himself somehow accidentally drank a love potion that he had in his stash of artifacts and other useless things.

MK wasn't exactly sure how the potion worked; on the bottle it was only written that, thankfully, the effects last only for a day or so, and the poor kid couldn't exactly ask his mentor about it right now. Besides, you were sure that Wukong wouldn't know even in the right/normal state of mind.

According to MK, the monkey acted somewhat normal for a few minutes, until he saw you in the photo he had of you two stashed somewhere. Then the potion truly started to kick in. At least that's what you think happened, provided you understood MK's frantic explanation correctly.

And to summarize, the boy wanted you to take care of Wukong for a bit until the potion stopped working, since the monkey was apparently constantly bugging him about wanting to see you. You could even hear Monkey King gushing about you and cutting in through MK's phone "to say hi".

You kinda feared what it would be like. You just hoped he wouldn't be too overbearing and that you won't explode from flusteredness, given you had a crush on Monkey King and thanks to the potion, he was in love with YOU of all people.

But you knew that MK had to go to his afternoon shift at Pigsy's, and Wukong couldn't be left alone in this state, so of course you agreed.

So in a short amount of time MK was standing in front of your apartment door with the Monkey King behind him. The boy thanked you once again and then he was gone. Leaving you alone with your lovesick crush.

His eyes were much wider than normal, and there was a slight pink gleam in them. He also had a wide smile on his face, his tail swishing behind him. Basically all the signs that he was happy.

"Peaches, I'm so glad to see you!"

He exclaimed in a much more higher pitched and cheerful voice than normally before crushing you in a hug.

"Yeah, good to see you too, Wukong" You replied and awkwardly reciprocated the hug, while Sun buried his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent.

Overall Wukong was much more cheerful, talkative and emotional than normal under the effect of the potion.

After the hug he started asking you a ton of questions, like, how was your day? How are you feeling today? No demon tried to attack you since he last saw you, right? Etc.

You also noticed that he called you 'Peaches' a lot. Of course, sometimes he did call you that before the potion, but only sometimes and he always acted like that was a slip up. He usually calls you by your name or similarly to MK, 'bud'/'buddy', maybe 'pal' sometimes.

To be honest, you weren't sure what to do with Wukong and how to keep him busy and not bored until the potion stopped working. So you suggested watching a movie.

And of course, probably 'cause of his lovesick state, he chose a romantic comedy...

It's not like you've never watched that kind of movie with him before, you actually did - you both liked to make fun of the characters and point out the corny and cringy aspects of the movies, but this time Wukong was really invested in a way he never was before.

The second you both sat on your couch, the monkey clung to you, hugging and cuddling you like a teddy bear. He was so close it was impossible for him to be any closer to you. Wukong pressed his furred cheek against yours and curled up to your side, his tail curling around your ankle.

Meanwhile you just sat there, inwardly screaming and having a panic attack at how close and intimate he was right now, and how much you liked it and secretly wished he wouldn't let go. And he didn't for the whole movie, being too invested in it to notice or care about you blushing.

This time he also made comments during the movie (that's just the way he is, sometimes he just can't keep completely quiet for that long), but not snarky/mocking ones. Instead he kept staring at the screen with sparkles in his eyes each time the characters did something which could be considered "romantic" and saying something along the lines of "Ooh, that is so romantic! Wouldn't it be nice if we did something like that, Peaches?" Or change his mood completely and ask with a smug expression "Soo, what did you think? What would YOU think if SOMEONE did something like this for YOU?"

Summarizing, he was VERY subtle...

You tried to answer both honestly and nice enough not to hurt his feelings. But, truth be told, you lied a few times so he wouldn't feel bad/hurt. You felt slightly guilty about lying to your friend/crush, even about such stupid things. Oh well, if you're lucky, Wukong won't remember any of this.

To be honest, you were thankful that this whole love potion experience took a pretty lovey-dovey route and not... Y'know, the more suggestive and lustful one? Because when it comes to Wukong it sometimes could be both. It probably also depended on the potion itself.

So yeah, you were grateful that the most he did was throw a more suggestive comment with this smug face of his here and there.

After the movie ended, you figured it was a good time for dinner.

Right after you started getting off the couch and out of Wukong's grasp, he asked with a pouty tone where were you going.

"I'm just going to the kitchen to make pancakes for dinner. With peaches~" You added in a sing-songy voice. You knew how much your monkey friend loved those fruits, so you always made sure to have some at your house just in case.

"Oh!" Wukong's face lit up slightly at the mention of his favorite fruits. "You don't have to get up though! I can make the pancakes with no problem, you don't have to do anything, in fact, you don't even have to get off the couch! I'll do everything for you, no biggie. You must be so tired after your morning shift today, Peaches! Besides, I'm a pro at cooking!"

You barely managed to hide a snort after his last sentence. It was endearing that he wanted to spoil you and do things so you wouldn't have to but he definitely wasn't a pro at cooking. You taught him some basics and thanks to that The Monkey King was able to cook simple dishes so they were actually edible. But not much more than that.

However, you agreed for two reasons: one, so you wouldn't hurt his feelings (it was so cute how his eyes and entire face shined and how bright his smile was when you said "okay"), and two; you were quite curious how this would turn out.

"Okay, but call me if you need help."

"You're so sweet, Peaches! But that won't be necessary."

After that Wukong went to the kitchen.

In short, it turned out that Sun mistook powdered sugar for flour, so the pancakes were... Quite a disaster, honestly.

You had to console the poor Monkey for a few minutes, because he felt like he failed and disappointed you. He was practically close to tears (that potion really did make him much more emotional, huh?)

He only cheered up after you suggested ordering something from Pigsy's. And of course, being the gentleman he suddenly became thanks to the potion, he insisted he should be the one to make the call. You could imagine that the pig wasn't very happy to hear him, but nonetheless after some time your order arrived with MK to your door.

"So, how is he?" Asked the teen. "I hope he was... Umm... Well behaved?"

"He was actually. It's just that he's much more cheerful and emotional than normal." You chuckled.

After that you invited MK inside, since he just ended his shift while bringing your and Wukong's order.

You and your crush ate your dishes and MK ate some chips you had in the kitchen. Meanwhile Wukong kept gushing about you to the teen, making you very flustered and flattered at the same time.

"I just love you Peaches so much!" Happily exclaimed Wukong at one moment.

Then a small, quiet gasp escaped your lips. Oh, how much you wished he truly meant those words. But you knew that this was just the potion talking, sadly.

After that MK suggested he should take Wukong back to the Flower Fruit Mountain since he ended his shift now.

Unfortunately, Sun heard that and he wasn't pleased. He immediately embraced you and squished you tightly against himself and kept saying how he needed to stay to protect you from demons or burglars breaking into your house. And also claiming that he doesn't want to be alone and that he had such a good time with you, so he didn't want it to end. Wukong was pretty much like an emotional child thanks to the potion at that moment. MK tried to pry him off you, but to no avail.

You had to promise Wukong that he could come over the next day in order for him to let you go and calm down.

Finally Sun agreed to go with MK, but not before hugging you tightly once more, kissing your cheek and saying "Love you, Peaches!".

You couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief when Monkey King left with his successor. This was an interesting experience, but it was quite tiring too. You also had many complicated emotions after this and needed a lot of time to process them. All of this just made you realize how hopeless you were in your crush on Monkey King himself and, how badly you wanted him to truly love you.

Later, in the evening, you suddenly grew curious about the love potion which your friend drank. So you decided to call Tang to check if he knew something about it; after all, who else could have such knowledge if not him?

"A love potion you say? Hmm... Well I do recall hearing some myth about some deity or someone who wanted to invent a potion which could make people fall in love. They kind of succeeded, but actually later it turned out that the potion didn't create those feelings from scratch."

"What do you mean?" You had a feeling where this was going, but you needed a clear confirmation.

"In order for the potion to work, the person who drank it had to already have some feelings for someone. The potion just caused those feelings to grow abnormally stronger and made the drinker more emotional, confident and bold about their feelings. Umm, but why are you asking?"

You were flabbergasted. Could it be...? "Oh, it's nothing, I was just curious. Thanks Tang, I have to go now, bye!" After that you ended the call, not even letting the scholar say goodbye.

That meant that Sun Wukong, aka The Monkey King himself had a crush on YOU. A REAL CRUSH. SINCE WHEN?! How long was he hiding it? Either you were really dense and oblivious or he was really good at hiding his true feelings. Honestly, it was hard to determine which was true in that situation.

For a solid minute you just sat there with your mouth open. Your mind literally screamed "error". Then you suddenly squealed like a teenage girl, jumped in the air and said "YES!"

Well. It seemed like you needed to have a little chat with Wukong.

#the monkey king #lmk monkey king x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk #lmk sun wukong x reader #lmk x reader #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong #monkey king x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid #requests open

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / february 29: address / word count: 376

During the two weeks James has been working as a delivery man for a small pizza chain something unusual has been happening. On his first day he had to deliver two family-sized pizzas, and when he arrived at the address he found a quaint, teal-coloured house with large windows. When he knocked on the door, it was answered by a handsome guy with dark curls who looked him up and down with a deep frown, paid him, received both pizzas and practically slammed the door in his face. James thought he'd never have to go back to the place again because of how disgusted he looked, but the next day, and every single day he's been working, he's had to deliver at least one thing to the same address, but not every time the same guy receives them, sometimes another guy welcomes him, who doesn't seem to hate James deeply and sometimes they make small talk, he said his name is Sirius.

During the third week, James doesn't know whether his shift never coincides with the calls of those he learned are brothers, or they just stopped ordering. Talking to Remus (the other delivery guy) one afternoon, he learns that it was the former, for when a grumpy grey-eyed boy answered the door the day before, the first thing he did was ask even more angrily "Where's James?", while Remus was only shocked to see the long-haired boy staring at him from behind Regulus. 

That's how the next time James goes the exchange between them goes like this:

"Sirius, do you remember the delivery boy from the other day?" asked James.

"The handsome one?" replied Sirius.

"Yes! He asked me to give you his number, his name is Remus and he thinks you're handsome too."

"Actually James, I'm glad you are telling me this. Give me your phone." Sirius quickly types into it. "I just gave you the number of the most important person in my life, my brother, who has been insufferable thanks to you for the past three weeks. So please do us all a favour and call him, okay?"

"You're doing me the favour so thank you. Consider it done."

"Brilliant! Pleasure doing business with you."

The deal was closed with a handshake.

#jegulus #regulus black #james potter #james x regulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #marauders #the marauders #len writes

[octoberclidan]

Movie Night Can Wait

Request: hi!! i have a fanfic idea for sam, so like reader, sam and dean are all tg hanging out, then dean goes at the grocery store to get sm and things with reader and sam get a little steamy and like they move to their bedroom but then dean walks in?😭

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Note: this is 18+, it has light smut. Do not read this if you're under 18.

Story:

"Anyone up for a movie night? I've had enough of this", Dean said, closing the book he was pretending to read and leaning back in his chair. They were currently in the bunker's library brushing up on ghouls.

"You know you don't have to research with us if you don't want to, right? We're not on an active case right now. [Y/N] and I just do it because we enjoy it", Sam said. Dean shrugged and grabbed his beer, taking a sip out of it.

"I'd be up for one", [Y/N] said, closing her book too. She'd been researching with Sam for most of the afternoon, and Dean had appeared about thirty minutes ago with a beer, complaining that he was bored. He'd been handed a book and had been sitting there trying to interrupt them with random conversation starters ever since. Sam sighed and leaned back. He'd been enjoying spending time with just [Y/N], even if it was only research. They didn't get to spend a whole lot of time alone, usually either Dean or Cas were around. Researching was one of the only things he could get [Y/N] to do with him with a low chance of Dean wanting to join in.

"Great", Dean put down his beer and clapped his hands together. "I'll go get popcorn and some other crap, if either of you wants something just text me, I'll be back soon". He stood up and checked his pocket for his wallet and keys, then disappeared off towards the bunker's garage.

"It's like he can't be on his own for more than five minutes", Sam mumbled, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

"There's only so much you can do in the bunker", [Y/N] shrugged. "We don't really spend much time alone either. I mean, you and I have been together all day". Sam opened his eyes and looked at her, sighing. "What's up?" She asked, leaning forwards and propping her chin up with her hands. "Are you really annoyed that he wanted to hang out with us?"

"Yeah. I mean, no", he shook his head. "No, I'm just... I was just enjoying your company". She blushed slightly and smiled, looking away from him. She enjoyed his company too, but she'd been finding it a bit difficult recently, given the fact that she'd been developing quite a crush on him for some time now. Every time she found herself alone with Sam, she wouldn't be able to help herself from staring at him. Seeing him up close made it a lot easier for her mind to imagine what he looked like under his clothes, or how soft his hair would feel between her fingers, or what his lips would feel like kissing her skin. She would get worked up just sitting beside him, not being able to stop her mind from wandering, so she was always glad when Dean showed up. At least when Dean was there, she had a distraction, especially since Dean never stayed quiet for long.

"Yeah, I enjoy your company too", she said. "A movie night could be good though". She heard Sam shift in his chair, and she looked back at him. He was now leaning forward, his arms on the table and his hands clasped together. He was looking down at them, and he suddenly looked as shy as she felt. "Right?"

"Uh, yeah", he cleared his throat and nodded. "Right".

"I'll go get changed into something comfortable, I'll see you in the Dean Cave", she stood up and Sam nodded again, but just as she was pushing her chair into the table, he spoke again.

"You know, actually yeah, I am annoyed that he wanted to hang out with us".

"What? Why?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows and leaning her hands on the back of the chair. This wasn't really like Sam at all. He shook his head, almost like he was trying to shake away the thoughts in his head, and he stood up. He walked over to her and looked down, taking a deep breath.

"Because, he knows how much I care about you".

"I care about you too, but I don't see why that would annoy you".

"He knows that it's more than just caring. He knows I like you, that I want to spend time with you, that I don't always want him around when it's just you and me". She felt her heart start to race as he spoke. He was looking directly at her, a look of desire in his eyes as he quickly allowed himself a glance at her lips.

"You like me?"

"Yeah", he breathed out. "I have for awhile. You're.. beautiful", he chuckled. "I can trust you, I can depend on you, you always seem to know the right thing to do".

"I don't really know what to do right now", she said, her cheeks feeling hot. "I like you too".

"Can I kiss you? I don't know how many times I caught myself staring at your lips this afternoon. Did you know you stick your tongue out when you turn a page in a book? That really gets me". He was close now, she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke, and she had to tilt her head upwards to look at him.

"Did you know you run your middle finger down the pages of a book when you're reading?" She asked, her voice almost a whisper. "You do it so gently". She studied his face as he brought his hand up to rest on the side of her neck, that same finger lightly stroking her skin, hot under his touch. He leaned down, hesitating only to look for a reaction. Her breath hitched in her throat as she gave him a small nod, and they both closed their eyes as their lips met. Sam's lips were just as soft as she imagined, the roughness of his stubble adding a nice contrast. The kiss only lasted a moment before he pulled back, leaning his forehead on hers and letting out a nervous laugh.

"I've wanted to kiss you for so long", he said, and she smiled.

"Me too".

"Is this okay?" He asked, his hand still on her neck as he lifted his other to cup her cheek, feeling her nod.

"Can you kiss me again?" She asked, and Sam didn't waste any more time. He quickly kissed her again, and she had to take a step back and grab his flannel to keep her balance as he pressed his body into hers. She felt the table behind her, and Sam bent down slightly, keeping his lips on hers as he grabbed her thighs and pulled her up. She gasped into his mouth as she was lifted up onto the table, and she immediately opened her legs to let him stand between them. He kept one hand on her thigh, gliding up and down the outside of it, while his other slipped under her shirt and sat on her waist. Both of her hands slid up his chest and up onto his shoulders. She let one of her hands slide up his neck and into his hair, and she smiled as he moaned into the kiss.

She felt his tongue lick her lips and she opened her mouth slightly to let him in. His breathing became louder as he took deep breaths through his nose, and she could tell he was getting just as worked up as she was as his grip on her thigh tightened. She could feel herself getting wetter as he finally broke the kiss and began to peck and lick at her jawline down to her neck, and she leaned her head to the side to give him easier access. "Sam", she moaned as he began to suck right below her ear. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he hummed against her skin. "Do you have a condom?" She asked, feeling bold. Whatever restraint she had before, whatever self control she had, it was gone. She wanted Sam, she wanted all of him, and she wanted him now. He pulled away from her neck and kissed her lips quickly before stepping back to look at her.

"You sure?" He was panting slightly, and her eyes were drawn to the bulge that was now very visible in his jeans.

"Sam, I have never been so sure of anything in my life". He didn't need any more convincing than that. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down off the table, immediately pulling her towards the bedrooms. She giggled as she had to jog to keep up with his long strides. Seeing him so enthusiastic only turned her on more. He pushed open his bedroom door and she followed in behind him. They made their way to his bed and he leaned down to kiss her again, now fumbling with the hem of her shirt. She helped him pull it up over her head, breaking the kiss for moment and giving him a chance to start unbuttoning his flannel. She watched as he pulled it off, his sculpted chest and abs catching her attention. She reached up to run her fingers down from his stomach to his belt, smiling as he shivered and held his breath. She unbuckled the belt and began to pull it out as he reached behind her and unclasped her bra, pulling it away from her. He groaned as he grabbed her breasts, squeezing with both hands.

"You're perfect", he said, and she blushed. She never thought she'd be in this situation with Sam, she never though she'd see the hunger in his eyes for her. He leaned down to kiss her as she worked on unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, her hand brushing over his bulge and causing him to moan and buck towards her touch. He was sliding his hands down her waist towards her jeans when they both froze.

"Hey, I was looking for- oh. Shit", Dean's voice sounded from the doorway, and Sam immediately pressed himself against [Y/N], covering her up with his body. She looked to her side to see Dean standing there looking at the floor, his hand on the door handle. "Uh, you left the door open".

"Yeah. Can you maybe close it?" Sam asked. [Y/N] hid her face in his chest in embarrassment as Dean awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Yeah, yeah I'll just um... yeah. Use protection". He closed the door and she felt Sam let out a breathy laugh.

"Good thing we hadn't taken our pants off yet?" [Y/N] grinned up at him, trying to make the moment a little less awkward. He looked down at her and pulled back, running his hands up and down her arm.

"Do you wanna keep going?" He asked.

"I don't want to stop", she grabbed his hand and placed it on her cheek, and she leaned into his touch as he placed his other hand on her hip. "Movie night can wait".

The end

Sam Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx @livingdead-reilly @fuiabarcelos @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @kr804573

#supernatural #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester imagine #sam x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #spn reader insert #spn #spn fluff #light smut #dean winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #supernatural imagine #supernatural reader insert

[write-tama]

"to live with the milkman."

╰┈➤ francis mosses (the milkman) x doorman!reader

sypnosis ; reader is worried because francis hasnt been seen in a week. they decide to pay francis' apartment a little visit..

containing! ; lois stilinksy, working as doorman, gender neutral pronouns, use of y/n, francis being a little sick and out of uniform, francis and reader eat mac n cheese tg :3

authors note ; this is lowkey a slowburn-- i didnt mean to write so much D: i started writing yesterday morning and just finished this morning LOL but ya its very just wholesome and soft ^^

4.12.24 | 2.7k words

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

As a doorman, you realize a pattern of people would often come and go through the apartment. You know who goes to work in the morning and who comes home in the afternoon, and you know what days they typically go out and days where they don’t.

So, I'm not totally creepy when I say I've noticed a shift in Francis’ schedule, right? He’s not one to typically go out unless he has work in the morning— which is usually Tuesday through Friday, but lately, I haven’t seen him all week.

Nothing but the worst truly went through my mind. He could’ve been eaten by a doppel, or worse, was mistaken for a doppel and was exterminated on sight! These anxious feelings went through my head as I nervously clicked my pen. I glanced at today’s list again, as if magically waiting for his name and picture to show up on the piece of paper.

click, click, click.

Through the office window, I heard the subtle steps of heels clicking against the worn tiles. Sighing, I sat up straight and folded my hands in front of desk, forcing my anxious thoughts to the back of my head in order to continue doing my job. I looked up to meet the gaze of thick magenta bangs with eyes barely visible I sort of wonder how she even navigates through her surroundings.

“Good afternoon.” She greeted, her thick lips curling into a polite smile. I nod as I took her ID and entry request through the letter box, scanning through the documents for any misspellings or misinformation. As I carefully examined the print, I notice Lois’ lips pursing into a curious point.

“You looked troubled, sweetheart.” She noted. “Is everything alright? Besides work-stress that is.”

I sighed a little, placing her card down before looking through today’s list. I checked off Lois’ picture before turning to my request checklist. “Yeah, I just.. I don’t know. Have you heard from Francis recently?” I asked, not even masking the worried tone in my voice. Lois hummed a little, as if thinking about the last time she has even seen the man.

“The last time I saw him, he looked extremely tired. Like more tired than usual. I think he was just coming home from work? He was coughing and sniffling a lot.” She recalled. “Poor boy.. He must’ve been sick for a while.” Lois shook her head. With her words I felt like a pressure had been released from my chest. Oh, good, so there is a chance he’s alive, I thought to myself. I slid back her ID and smiled.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry, I just get worried knowing that a neighbor could’ve been killed by a doppel or any force of nature of that matter.” I lightly chuckled. Lois smiled, taking her ID before looking at me.

“You should talk to him. I’m sure he could use the company right now.” Lois suggested, but through that grin I could see that teasing smile.

I sighed a little, a little grin starting to form on my face. “C’mon, Lois, that would be way too embarrassing!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms in my chair. Lois lightly giggled, raising a white glove to stiffle her laughs.

“Oh, it won’t hurt, honestly! You never know what could happen~” she said, all singy-songy. I rolled my eyes before pressing the unlock button.

“Yeah, yeah. The door’s right there.” I sarcastically replied, a big grin on my face.

“Just think about it!” She called out as she walked through the door. I shook my head in amusement, listening to the door click behind her. I locked the door and returned to my previous slouched position.

Maybe I should pay him a visit.

My shift ended around late evening. I packed my bag and slid on my cardigan before locking the door behind me and hiding the key in a place only the next doorman would be able to find it. As I walked towards the exit of the building, I thought about what Lois had said earlier about paying him a visit. I never even really attempted to go past the lobby area of the apartment building. I had no purpose to anyway. And plus, it would’ve been a lengthy process to even request a visitor’s pass due to the security. I looked over to the doorman’s office, realizing that as of now, no one is on duty. Would it be morally wrong to go against the rules of the literal job I worked in?

Maybe.

But maybe my curiosity and anxiety could take over just for this one moment.

I walked back to the doorman’s office and unlocked the door. I placed the key back in its original hiding place before entering. I made sure to lock the door behind me before taking a look around the room again. Behind the doorman’s seat, there’s a door that leads to the stairway of the apartment complex. Its main purpose was to serve as a fire escape just in case of an emergency. Eagerly and swiftly, I gently pushed the door open, making sure to not make much noise. Once I walked out, I was met with the smell of old concrete and a spiral of stairs. I sighed to myself, remembering that Francis does in fact live on the third floor.

The stairs felt endless as my shoes clicked on the hard concrete. Fortunately, I only had to take a break only two times. I was finally at the end of the stairs, my legs tired from the endless climbly. I pushed the door open and was greeted with a typical carpeted hallway with blinding yellow-white lights that nearly burned my eyes. I sighed before trailing through the doors, looking at each number plate in order to locate the right room.

“Room 02, room 02..” I hummed to myself, just like how I would while scanning through files. After turning a corner, I was finally able to locate Francis’ room. I raised my fist to knock at the door, but the soft, soothing sounds of piano muffled through the wood. I stopped in my tracks, feeling as if my knock would disturb the perfect flow of the keys as I’m sure its song filled the apartment with grace. I waited for the keys’ song to slow to an end, the melody slowly fading out of the air and a sigh following its silence. I couldn’t help but smile, and sure this gave me enough proof that Francis was in fact still alive, but.. Something about his skills on the piano made me even more intrigued by the man.

I gently knocked with my knuckles, but making sure I was firm enough for the knocks to even be heard. From inside, I heard a chair scrape against wooden floorboard before footsteps steadily approaching me. A couple locks were undone before the squeak of the door filled my ears. I looked up and there Francis was— his eyebags were relatively darker and he was still in sleep attire with a baggy set of pajama pants and a fitting white tee.

“Oh— uh, (y/n)—” he said a little shocked to see me. I smiled a little, tilting my head at him.

“You shouldn’t have opened your door so fast. I could’ve been a doppel, y’know?” I advised. I heard him suck air through his teeth as he realized his rookie mistake.

“Mmm.. I’m sorry..” He mumbled, making me raise an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve been worried about you since I haven’t seen you in a while. I just.. Wanted to check if you were okay.”

Francis raised his eyebrows in surprise. It made me wonder if anyone else but me paid him a visit due to his absence. We lingered in silence for a minute. he stared down at me as I stared up at him.

“..May I be invited in?” I requested, breaking the silence. Francis blinked his eyes a little, as if he had been lost in thought previously.

“Mmm.. ID and entry request, please?” Francis teased, smiling a little. I scoffed, immediately catching on to his wittiness.

“Ha ha, very funny, Mr. Mosses.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes. His grin grew wider, clearly amused by reaction. He stepped aside from the door, allowing me to enter. I walked in, bag still clutched to my side as I took a look around the apartment.

It was humble but quaint space. The ceiling lights were off and frankly looked like they were never used, however, his lamps illuminated a soft warm orange on his furniture. He had a small box TV and dull red couch with a small round coffee table planted in the middle. Huddled in a corner was his old piano he must've been playing earlier. Francis closed the door behind me, making sure to lock it as well. “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” He apologized, quickly rushing to his couch where clothes scattered over the armrests. He went down a small hallway I assumed to be where his bathroom and bedroom was. I took off my shoes and placed my bag on the table that sat next to the door before sitting myself on the couch.

I sighed a little, almost drowning into the soft pillows. It almost made me question why he would be struggling with sleep if he has a couch as comfortable as this. I could see a bit of his kitchen from sitting on his couch. It was a decent size with counters on one side and the appliances on the other. It seemed like he had something on the stove cooking as well.

Francis walked in shortly after and took his seat on other end of the couch, keeping a distance between the two of us. I brought my knees to my chest while hugging his couch pillows. I looked at him for a bit, trying to figure out myself as to why he hasn’t been out recently. Not only was his dark circles were more apparent, his hair was a little longer and messier. He looked paler than usual as well. Francis turned to me, a curious look on his face.

“Is it apparent..?” Francis asked. I furrowed my eyebrows, a little confused on what he meant.

“Hm?” I hummed in response.

“That I’m coming down with something.” He chuckled slightly. I shrugged a little, leaning back on the couch cushions.

“I mean.. Your hair is messier.” I smiled, admiring the frizz on the top of his head. Francis quickly glanced up before running his fingers through his hair.

“It’s not that messy..” He sighed.

“Well, I wouldn’t know. You always got that milkman hat on the top of your head.” I laughed. I glanced over to the kitchen again, realizing that steam was coming through the glass lid. “I think you might want to get that.” I suggested, nodding my head towards the stove. He hummed a little before getting off of the couch and heading towards the kitchen. I watched as he reached the top of the cabinets, stretching up with ease. I couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders to his slim waist defined by his white shirt.

“Hey, I made mac n’ cheese if you’d like a bowl.” He offered, his voice immediately cutting through my daze.

“Oh— uh, yeah of course. I was about to get dinner after I got off my shift but here I am.” I chuckled. He nodded before grabbing another platter to make my own plate. I sat patiently on the couch before noticing the remote on the coffee table. “Hey, can I turn on the TV?” I asked.

“Hm?” Francis hummed from the kitchen. “Mmm.. Sure. I don’t mind.” He shrugged before turning back to his task.

Something about this felt so.. Safe.. And homely. I felt comfortable, despite me never even being in Francis’ apartment before. It felt familiar, and I couldn’t lie to myself and say that this is the most peace I’ve felt since the news of doppelgangers came out. I picked up the TV remote and flicked it on, browsing through the channels before find a movie we could idly have in the background.

Francis came out of the kitchen, holding two bowls with forks in each. This time, he took his seat much closer to me before placing my bowl on the coffee table. “Thank you.” I politely nodded. I took the bowl and started to eat. Honestly, to my surprise, the food was actually pretty good for a man who worked day and night. I was enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of us as we enjoyed our dinner together— something I barely saw myself seeing tonight.

“Hey.. (y/n)?” Francis mumbled quietly.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I replied, taking another scoop of the creamy mac n’ cheese to shove in my mouth.

“Why did you.. Come here?”

Something about that question made my heart skip a little. Why did I come here? I mean— I came here to make sure he was okay. That’s my job as doorman. To make sure all of the neighbors are safe and alive. But even when I heard him through the door, clearly shown to me that he is still breathing, I stuck around anyway.

Why did I come here?

“Well— I uh..” I trailed off a little, sort of lost to where I should even begin. “I was just worried about you. That is my job, no?” I said, clearing my throat. I kept my eyes on the screen, a little embarrassed to even face him.

“Mmm.. I don’t entirely believe that.” He hummed. “You could’ve called.”

Oh, fuck, yeah no— he’s right.

Ugh, Lois!

You set me up!

“That’s true..” I chuckled. “I guess you caught me.”

“Mmm..” He mumbled. He placed his now empty dinner on the table before folding his hands in his lap. “So..?”

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart beat fast inside my chest and a warmth creeping up my whole body. I placed my bowl onto the coffee table as well, and finally mustered the courage to look at him in his eyes.

“Francis..” I mumbled. He leaned in a little closer, as if he wanted to lean into my words and trusted them to embrace him.

“I.. I just.. I think I like you..” I trailed out. My head felt cloudy as a tingling sensation danced all over my skin, feeling like a little kid during recess confessing to her elementary school crush. “I've liked you.. Ever since we met. I never really said anything because I felt like you weren't necessarily interested in a relationship.. But Lois and Rafttellyn would always point out how you would look at me and I just—!”

A strong hand placed firmly on my cheek— so cold against my blushing face— pulled me in to meet those soft lips of his. I was completely silenced and wide eyed, but I knew what he was telling me. Everything in those pink lips told me that everything was going to be okay, and he liked me just as much..

I fluttered my eyes closed, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to his chest. The TV buzzed in front of us, sputtering incoherent actors cracking jokes and delivering their lines. Our finished bowls of dinner were scattered on the table, but it was easy to tell the food was delicious for no piece of macaroni was left unnoticed. I pressed harder against his lips, letting the thought of breathing slip my mind.

If this is what it's like to live with him—

To spend our evenings chatting

Eating dinner on his couch

Watching TV while enjoying each other's presence

Then maybe I could get used to this.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

tagging ; @crybabies-heart @shypizzaperson @your-local-oc-maker @spearsillustration @mochi46106 @seraphlin @glxyaaandromeda (some ppl i tagged either bc they followed me on my old acc and just some ppl who interacted with my past content and just thought they would be interested in this fic :3

thank you so much for reading and reposts and likes are always so, so appreciated <3

#milkman #milkman x reader #thats not my neighbor #thats not my neighbour milkman #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses thats not my neighbor #tnmn milkman #tnmn #francis mosses x you #lois stilnsky #fanfiction #wholesome

[jo-harrington]

Longevity (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Longevity (noun) - continuance; durability; permanence

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.06

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. (For now.) Fluff, a little angst, discussions of the future, vignettes/time jumps, smut, HEA.

Note: Alright here it is, and it is a HONKING CHAPTER. But how could I break it up into pieces when it's The End? I'm tucking my little babies into the dollhouse and closing it up so they can live on the rest of their lives. To Eddie and Store Manager, I love you both dearly and you were the thing that brought me back to writing and into a wonderful community of writers and readers. To everyone reading, thank you so much for your endless support. You will never know how much it's appreciated.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing. Seriously, go read it.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

April 1986

"Ope, if it isn't the man of the hour, Mr. Edward G. Robinson himself. We were just talking about you."

That was the greeting that found Eddie as he walked into Claire's after school on a lovely Thursday afternoon, ready to share some good news before his closing shift.

Great news, actually, if he was being honest. Life-changing news that he was sure would earn him a ton of kisses that he'd been craving after a long week of assignments and standardized tests.

Imagine his surprise then, that instead of finding you and Mindy behind the counter, chatting after a supposed "big visit" you'd told him that you had today, you still had company.

He skidded to a halt at the sight. Your guest smiled up at him with her hands on her hips.

Short in stature, blonde hair in pristine victory rolls, bold makeup that consisted of layers of glittery eyeshadow, and wrists adorned with stacks of multicolored scrunchies.

"It's nice to see you again Jen," he greeted your old Store Manager.

He'd only met her in person once, but had heard countless fond and semi-unbelievable stories about her from you--and apparently she'd heard the same about him, having greeted him with a bone-crushing hug the first time they met—so there was a familiarity and fondness there that they both indulged.

"What are you doing here?" he asked casually and crossed the distance to throw an arm over your shoulder and press a kiss to your temple. "I thought you said that you wouldn't be caught dead in Indiana."

You, Mindy, and Jen all broke out in a fit of giggles and Eddie felt a sudden sense of instinctual dread.

"Well then get ready to start planning my funeral kid," Jen announced. "Because you're about to start seeing a lot more of me."

"Jen just got promoted," you interjected finally.

"Oh yeah?"

"To District Manager. So she's gonna be my boss. Again."

"Oh, shi--shoot," Eddie felt like he'd been doused with cold water at the revelation. He peeled his arm from around your shoulder and took a wide step to put distance between the two of you. "That's...wow. Congratulations."

He'd been through a handful of DM visits at TapeWorld, never on his own, always under Kyle's cool guidance; however, he'd come to realize that the stiff authority figure of his District Manager Jeff was something to be feared.

So even though he was excited for Jen--your friend--on her promotion, the sudden realization that Jen--your boss--was standing here watching him make an idiot out of himself and possibly put your job at risk...

"Oh my god," Jen broke down in a fit of laughter. "Look at him, he's about to shit himself. Take a chill pill Ed, Jesus. I’m not gonna be a hardass until next week. If that.”

Once everyone had their fill of laughter, and Jen promised that she wasn't going to hold your relationship over your head--

"So long as you're not in here interfering with the business or making out on the sales floor or something."

--Eddie pulled you to the side and finally revealed his big news.

"So," he began excitedly. "It, uh, looks like I'm on the road to graduation. Like really graduating. Not just 'if I don't fuck it up in the home stretch' this time. I'm actually gonna graduate."

"Oh my god," you grabbed him by his jacket and shook him as joy bubbled in his chest from your reaction. "Eddie that's amazing!"

You asked him a few questions and your eyes sparkled proudly as he recounted his talk with his guidance counselor, and he couldn't help the smile that stayed on his face the entire time. Especially when you let out a shriek of joy and jumped around.

"We need to go and celebrate!" you insisted.

"I mean," he suddenly got bashful. "I haven't graduated yet."

"Still, it's big. You worked so hard." You looked back over at Jen and Mindy who were talking at the cash wrap. "I know you're closing tonight but I'm taking Jen out for drinks a little later. When you get out of work, meet us at the Hideaway. I'll get you the Wayne and a beer. And then afterwards, uh...if you wanna come back to my place? Like...actually celebrate?”

He grinned and nodded eagerly; you'd taken the words right out of his mouth.

---

His shift had gone by quickly and he’d joined you and Jen at the Hideaway with Kyle in tow. Kyle who was not only proud of Eddie and wanted to treat him to a beer for his efforts, but also intrigued at the possibility of schmoozing a pretty new face in town.

“Sometimes,” he announced with a flourish when he returned to StarCourt right before store close, dressed in the nicest clothes Eddie had ever seen him wear. “You need to take a chance. How many times did I tell you that kid? You miss all the chances you don’t take. That’s why it took you so long to get a girlfriend.”

Jen, unfortunately, laughed right in Kyle’s face when he kissed her hand upon introduction.

“I’m engaged, Romeo,” she informed him. “Sorry.”

“I don’t see a ring. You can let me down Jenny. Tell me the truth, I won’t be hurt.”

“You’re sweet. But it’s the truth. I just don’t wear the ring to work.”

“Alright, alright,” He sighed, then got a sly look. “Any chance you have a sister? Or a brother? I’m an equal opportunity man looking for true love.”

The night was filled with hearty food, rounds of beer, fantastical stories of retail hell and 4th Quarters past, and accomplishments on everyone’s part.

Kyle bragged about a new car he had just put a down payment on.

Your store had hit some Diamond Earring milestone that only you and Jen seemed to understand but the excitement was contagious.

Eddie got a round of applause from the table when you urged him to announce his big news to everyone.

Honestly he couldn’t care about Kyle or Jen’s reaction, it was seeing you look at him with all the pride and affection in the world that he basked in. He couldn’t wait for the actual graduation ceremony, for you to be front and center with Wayne and Rick and all of his friends. There to witness his hard work come to fruition…and for him to flip Principal Higgins off.

And then Jen stood up and announced her own accomplishment right before last call.

“So,” she cleared her throat and held up her glass and pulled something out of her coat. “I know I already celebrated back home and I don’t really know either of you, Kyle and Ed, but I know my little protégée here would be happy for me.

”Alongside my wonderful and well-earned promotion to DM, I also received my Longevity pin.”

She opened a little velvet jewelry box and showed off a tiny glittering purple pin with a tiny little diamond chip in place of the dot of the “I” in Claire’s.

“Ten long years,” Jen announced after a swig of her beer, “with the Purple Glitter Factory. And all I have to show for it is a pin, a little more money, and a lot more responsibility. God. Growing up sucks. But I’m very proud. And you’re next kid.”

She laid a hand on your head and you waved her off with visible embarrassment then disappeared to go and close out your tabs.

Later that night as you and Eddie settled into bed to sleep after some celebratory activities, Eddie laid awake and stared at the ceiling. Thinking.

“What are your plans for the future?” He asked after a beat.

“Uh,” you shifted your head on his shoulder so you could look at him. “Is this because of all of Jen’s talk of careers and stuff?”

“Yeah. And graduation. And all of that stuff. So? What do you wanna do…where do you wanna be…when you’re older?”

“God, I dunno. I got my associates in business because I was hoping it would help me get my own store. And I did. It also was so boring, I don’t want to go back to school. I guess the next thing is…actually take a vacation day now that I’m earning them. What about you?”

“Music legend,” he answered immediately.

“Uh huh.”

“Guess that’s gonna take some work though, huh?”

“No shit.” You rolled your eyes and then sighed as you settled against him once again. “There’s a reason you asked, Ed. What’s going on in that big head of yours?”

He ran his tongue along the seam of his lips repeatedly as he considered…everything that was laid out in front of him.

Corroded Coffin.

Tape World.

What about Hellfire? Damn, he knew Dustin and Will were the future of the club but…a few years down the line. What about next year? He was gonna have to pass the torch to Gare or Dave after he left. They weren’t ready yet.

And what was he gonna do after school was over? Could he see himself taking a class at TCCC? Maybe. Jeff had been showing him the Catalog at lunch the other day. There was a Creative Writing course that looked cool.

10 years.

That was half his life away. Impossible to imagine. Would there be flying cars by then? Space travel? He could enlist in Starfleet, meet Captain Kirk. Ok maybe that last one was stupid.

"10 years,” Eddie whispered into the top of your head as he rid himself of the fantastical thoughts. “That’s an awful long time.”

“Well it’s a good thing we have all that time to figure it out.”

We…

“Yeah. Yeah we do.”

He could only hope you’d still be there with him. One way or another.

---

July 1987

The spot lights were blinding and the air thick with humidity; his throat was dry and his fingers ached from how hard he was on the fretboard.

But the crowd was cheering and that’s all that mattered right?

No, what really mattered was the music.

And the band.

That's why he was up here with his friends, demolishing the bridge of The Sentinel, laughing and jumping and barely giving a shit when he missed a note or Jeff’s fingers fumbled or Gareth lost the beat for a second. He didn't even mind that the County Clerk had them censor out the "cuss words" of the songs they'd chosen.

It was exhilarating just to be able to play on an actual stage.

It had taken 2 years but they were finally playing at the Roane County 4th of July Festival. An actual gig. And not the first one they'd played, but certainly the biggest so far. Big enough and successful enough that Eddie expected it to be a standing gig for the foreseeable future.

The Polka Band from Kenosha hadn't gotten nearly half as many people and they were, by far, the most successful act of the night before Corroded Coffin.

There was a sea of friends, neighbors, families, and out-of-towners just below the stage, snacks and drinks in-hand, as they danced and jumped and headbanged to song after song. Rick and Wayne were out at Benny's getting all set up for the next stop on Corroded Coffin's "Independence Day Tour" but you were out there in the crowd with Mindy and her family, singing along and cheering louder than everyone whenever a song ended.

Which was why Eddie didn't hesitate to dedicate the final song of the set to you.

"This next one isn't our usual sound," he spoke into the microphone, words a little muffled as his lips brushed against it. "It's a little slow. Something you can dance to, so gentlemen please grab your ladies, tell them how much you love them. But before we begin...did you all know...it's almost Back to School time."

There was a series of boo's from the crowd.

"Now now, maybe yet not for you all, but definitely for a special someone out there," he shushed them and traded Sweetheart for his mom's old acoustic guitar. He plucked a few notes and then continued. "A special someone...who leaves me all alone every once in a while. Late nights. Lonely nights while I wait by the phone, as she and her team make magic happen and she forgets all about me. See I'm saying all of this because she's about to leave me high and dry this coming Sunday night, so I have to guilt her a little otherwise she won't let me surprise her with hash browns and coffee when she gets out of work.

"Queen of Glitter Kingdom," Eddie squinted and looked around the crowd until he found you standing there holding your hand over Mindy's mouth as she looked like she was about to cry. He pointed right at you. "My life, my world, my cheeseburger. This one's for you."

He and Jeff then began to harmonize their guitars for the opening of Beth.

---

"You're a shithead, you know that."

"Mmm...but I'm your shithead, sweetheart."

It was late. Wayne, Rick, and the guys had all left. You and Eddie were sitting across from each other in a booth at Benny's, as the last few fair-goers trickled in for a late night snack. Your own dinner sat half-eaten on the table between you--patty melts and an apple pie shake to share--as you talked and laughed and played footsie.

He and the boys needed to rush across town after their set was over so they made it in time for Ben's advertised happy hour, so he hadn't gotten the chance to get an earful or a kiss from you after his little spectacle.

Fortunately, you were giving him hell for it now, and although he was wiped, he gladly accepted your teasing wrath.

"Is Wayne still around?" You turned in your seat and looked at the sparse group of customers. "I'd like to make a return."

"Mmm...well I moved out in January so I think it's after the 90-day return policy," he said matter-of-factly.

"God damn it," you laughed and snapped your fingers. "And I think I lost the receipt too."

"Stuck with me forever," he teased in a sing-song. There was a beat and he straightened up in his seat and drummed a rhythm on the table with his knuckles. "So...I think it went well."

"I think so too," you agreed brightly.

"You know, Jeff found some...Septemberfest thing out in Jasper..."

Your eyes sparkled at Eddie's words, and he felt the flutter of butterflies deep inside of him that always kicked up when you gave him your excitement and encouragement.

“It’s not a competition or anything but there’s a prize for most popular act of the weekend. Audience ballot and everything. I think it would be cool.”

"That's great!" you grinned. "You should go for it."

"But it's Labor Day weekend."

"So?"

"Paulie's going for a promotion," he shrugged. "Kyle's gonna want us all there in case Jeff comes for a visit."

"And? I didn't know Paulie was planning on opening for Corroded Coffin. What's he playing? The kazoo?" you joked.

"Well no," Eddie shook his head. "But if he leaves...I mean, I'm the best bet for FTASM. I don't want to lose out on that for the future. That'd be...the money would be nice. Can do some repairs on the van. Maybe I'd get my own store someday too."

Your face crumpled--brows furrowed and lips pursed--and you didn't hesitate to shuffle out from your side of the booth and kneel beside him on his. You placed a hand on his forehead for a moment and then tilted his head back and forth.

"Uh, sweetheart," he placed a hand on your waist to steady you as you shuffled closer to pull the back the neck of his t-shirt to look for something. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to see if my Rockstar Eddie Munson action figure is broken," you explained.

"Uhhh."

"Or at least if I accidentally left him at the fair and picked up a Corporate Shill Eddie action figure instead?"

"What?" he laughed.

"How about Suburban Dad Eddie?" you asked. You straightened your posture, pulled on non-existent suspenders, and lowered your voice comedically. "Gotta prepare for tax season. Cut the grass. Do some repairs on the van."

"Stop," he pulled you down to sit beside him in the booth. "I just...don't wanna take the chance on that when I know the full time position is a sure thing."

"Ed," you shook your head at him. "I know you like Tape World but...promotions always come around, music is your dream."

"I know."

"Why did you tell me about this Septemberfest thing if you were not gonna go through with it anyway?"

"I dunno," he turned away from you and went to grab the shake. "I guess I just wanted to pick the thing...that you'd be most proud of."

"Listen here mister," you grabbed him by the chin and made him look at you, Apple Pie Shake be damned. "I'm always gonna be proud of you and support you in whatever path you want."

He nodded for a second and then stole a kiss from you with a soft "I know, thank you." You let yourself get lost in the feeling for a second, but Eddie knew that you weren't gonna let him distract you from the discussion at hand.

You put a hand on his chest and pushed him away, then stared him directly in the eye.

"So?" you asked. "What kind of future do you want?"

His eyes darted between yours--your gaze hard and challenging but nonetheless filled with hope and affection--and he had his answer.

---

May 1989

You could feel Eddie fidget in the seat beside you.

"Calm down," you muttered to him.

"Can't help it," he whispered back; you could tell he straightened out his posture, but his knee still bounced. "Too excited."

A name was called over the loudspeaker, then another, then another.

"Eddie seriously," Gareth was the one to give it a shot this time, leaning across you to put a hand on Eddie's knee and get him to stop fidgeting. "You're gonna shit yourself if you don't stop."

"Shit, sorry, this is only like..." he shook his head. "The most important thing I've ever done in my life."

You, Gareth, Jeff, and Dave all shot him skeptical and unamused looks.

"I don't have time to argue right now," he scoffed at the rest of you. "Shut up, here it comes."

"Peter Halliwell...Dustin Henderson..."

All five of you jumped to your feet and cheered and clapped, along with another group a few rows up that consisted of Dustin's mom, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and their respective partners.

It was a repeat occurrence several times over that afternoon, as you witnessed the Hawkins High Class of '89 cross the stage and receive their diplomas.

"That's my kid," Eddie wiped a fake tear as each of his former Freshman Sheepies were called on stage, but he was especially emotional with Dustin. And when the newest DM of Hellfire flipped Higgins off before running off stage? Eddie stood on his chair and whooped and whistled. “That’s my boy!”

“Sit down Munson,” Higgins spoke into the microphone, over an audience that had become uproarious with laughter.

“It’s tradition now, Higgy,” Eddie shouted, words amplified by the hands he’d cupped around his mouth; still, he jumped down and took his seat so the rest of the ceremony could continue.

“You’re unbelievable,” you giggled at his antics. “You do know that right?”

“I’m unbelievably loveable,” he replied, quickly accompanied by the scoffs and mocking fart noises of his friends. He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “Unbelievably in love with you.”

“Uh huh.” His tongue snaked out and he licked into your ear obnoxiously. “Fuck off!” You pushed him away from you with a shrieking laugh.

It wasn’t long before that the real reason you were in attendance at the graduation walked across the stage. Because yes, the kids were your friends but you wouldn’t miss this for the world.

“Jane Hopper,” came the announcement and you, once again, got to your feet with a cheer, along with her family and friends in the next aisle of seats. Chief Hopper had his camcorder out and his shoulders visibly shook as he sobbed for his daughter, and you couldn’t help but feel your heartstrings pull.

If Dustin and the boys were Eddie’s little sheepies, you supposed Janey was one of yours. From a shy girl whose ears you’d pierced for the first time in your early days at StarCourt, to one of your die hard regulars who looked up to you over the years trying to emulate your style, to one of your associates when she came in for her first summer job at 16; you’d watched Jane grow and gain confidence and really come into her own.

That was the high point of your career as a Store Manager, and something you happily shared with Eddie: seeing the kids you took under your wing flourish.

“All the birds have flown the coop Mom,” Eddie teased as you sat down and actually wiped a tear from your cheek.

“I think you guys can cut the Mom and Dad bit now,” Jeff said matter-of-factly. “Until you guys have your own kids someday.”

That was something you and Eddie happily shared too.

The two of you looked at each other for a moment…before making the most exaggerated vomiting and gagging noises, unfortunately getting looks from the people around you.

“Pass,” you and Eddie announced in tandem.

---

After the ceremony was over, Chief Hopper invited everyone to the shared Hopper-Byers abode for a barbecue. And by everyone, it seemed like he literally invited the entire town to the lakeside cabin the family called home.

All of the kids and their friends and families, Benny was somehow there—had he closed the diner for the day? Good, he deserved a day off—a handful of Hop’s coworkers and friends, including Wayne and Rick.

There were hamburgers and beers, conversation and music overlapping one another.

Eddie was in his element though, and it warmed your heart to see him talk and spiel and be accepted by such a big group when, not so long ago, it seemed like he’d been shunned by them. Even now, you could see some hesitation as he stiffly talked with douchebag Callahan and Mike’s asshole dad, but he wasn’t sweating bullets or falling back on the pricklier parts of his personality. He even cracked a smile once or twice.

What would his life had been like if he’d had this all along?

It was silly to think about after you’d been dating for years but…would he have asked you out sooner? Would you even still be together now? You thought about the ways that the kids had grown into their own…but it wasn’t hard to also appreciate how much the two of you had grown side by side as well.

Especially when you considered the next step you were about to embark on together...

“You’re thinking too loud,” Eddie startled you as he snuck up behind you and dangled a fresh beer in your face. You shot him a scathing look but he easily recovered, back into your good graces, as he swooped an arm around your shoulder and pecked a kiss to your temple. “What’s got you all sour?”

“Not sour,” you shrugged and picked at the label on the beer bottle. “Just…I don’t know. Thinking."

"Always a bad idea."

"Reflecting.”

“Well you look like you’re about to tell someone to get fucked so…”

"Maybe I am," you grinned at him cheekily.

"As long as it isn't me." He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "But you know it gets me going either way."

You slapped the back of your hand against his chest just as a gaggle of voices called your names.

Jane was the first one to run your way from across the yard, with Dustin and Lucas hot on her heels. They were all talking over one another, and Jane especially looked like she was about to burst into tears.

Eddie was the one to try to make sense of them, and he yelled a bellowing "shut up" that got them to stop their barrage.

"You're leaving?" Jane asked, looking directly at you. "Leaving Hawkins?"

"Uh," you paused and looked at Eddie, who held his hands up innocently.

"Gareth's got a big mouth," he reasoned.

"Of course he does," you rolled your eyes and then turned back to the kids. "Uh...yeah we are. At the end of the summer. I’m opening a new store. Again."

"What about you?" Dustin demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at Eddie.

"Where my lady goes, I must follow," he stood tall and held a hand over his heart for a second, chivalrous as ever, before he took a sip of his beer and slumped back into his usual posture. "Besides, Corroded Coffin has a better chance in a bigger city. We're big fish in a small tank in Hawkins. Gonna pack up the van; give Chicago a chance to chew us up and spit us out."

Eddie and the boys bickered back and forth--gathering a small crowd of onlookers the longer it went--about the trip and the plans about where you'd all live and work while you stood there with Jane.

"How could you just leave?" she asked.

"Oh, honey, that's just...how it is," you reassured her. "I get a new assignment, Mindy takes over. And I'll be back to visit. Maybe you and Max will take a drive up for a weekend in the city."

"That'd be fun."

"It isn't goodbye."

"I know," she nodded somberly.

"Besides, you're going off to school in the fall," you reminded her. "You weren't meant to stay at StarCourt Mall forever, and I wouldn't want you too. You have a bright future ahead of you. I know it's scary, but it's all gonna work out. One way or another."

They were the same words that Jen had said to you before you embarked on your big adventure to Hawkins, and you were happy to pass the sentiment along to Jane.

"What about you?" she asked after a minute. "Your future? Are you afraid?"

That was the question, wasn't it? A new adventure, maybe in a more familiar setting but...a new challenge nonetheless. But you looked over at Eddie, who had both Dustin and Gareth in headlocks; his head was thrown back in obnoxious laughter and he gave you a shrug that said "how could I help myself" when he noticed you looking at him.

He was an idiot. But he was your idiot. And he'd be by your side for this next adventure, just like he promised he would be.

"No," you told her honestly. "I'm not afraid at all."

---

September 1990

"Alright, here's a question?"

"Shoot."

"When…is our anniversary?"

"Uhh...Ed..." You let the question hang awkwardly in the air, unasked, but Eddie could read your mind.

The two of you were symbiotic at this point; still, he was happy that you had no idea what he had in mind for the day.

"No hear me out," he took a few steps ahead and turned to walk backwards so he could look at you. "Because I really put some thought into it. If we're going by first dates, it's in January—”

“Like it has been for the past 4 years.”

“—but, if we're going by first kiss..."

"If we're going by first kiss, that was last week," you laughed and rolled your eyes. "So you’re late."

“Yeah,” he agreed wickedly wistfully. “I guess I am.”

Of course you remembered.

The two of you were walking. Exploring, actually, around the cemetery where your Papa enjoyed his eternal rest.

5 years and it was a lot easier now.

You still cried sometimes but the initial guilt was gone and you found enjoyment in spending the day traversing about the sprawling cemetery grounds, visiting this great uncle and that distant cousin, just like you did with Papa when he was still alive.

“Did he make sure he bought flowers for everyone he ever met?” Eddie had asked as you piled bunches and bunches of flowers into his arms at the florist that first visit after Papa passed, when you told Eddie of the tradition. “Aren’t they just gonna die?”

“This is why I don’t like flowers,” you explained. “They die. At least when they die here, the dead can still enjoy them.”

“Well shit, that’s a pretty metal thought baby,” he cooed softly and shuffled the bunches to hold them with some more care. “Can I put that in a song? I’ll dedicate it to you.”

He had and you’d cried when he first sang you the haunting ballad in the privacy of your living room.

Today, though…well you’d already made the rounds today. Only one stop left; the most important stop. Eddie had suggested taking the long way through the mausoleum—down hallways lined with plush red carpet and dated sofas and marble walls filled with the dead—partially for his own curiosity, and partially so he could build up the courage.

You were doing quite a good job distracting him from his nerves as you conversed easily—whatever thoughts popped up in either of your heads—and explained the differences between this Saint and that one as you passed their statues and depictions in stained glass. They all looked at him with serene eyes and he thought that meant this journey would be a successful one.

There would be no crying, if he could help it.

Maybe tears of joy? He could settle for that.

“So what has you thinking of anniversaries?” you finally asked as you sat on the tufted velvet ottoman in front of your grandparents' epitaph.

Eddie shrugged and looked around, absorbing the names and dates inscribed on the marble walls that surrounded him.

“Been a lot of milestones lately. It’s been a couple years since graduation, 5 years since your grandpa passed…” He trailed off for a moment. “Been a year since we moved…since we’ve both been at new stores.”

You gasped and he felt his heart stop in his chest.

“Is…are you thinking of quitting?” You asked with big eyes.

“What?”

“That new Hot Topical store they’re opening? Or whatever it's called? I saw you chatting with that District Manager in the food court the other day. Are you leaving TapeWorld? Eddie, that’s so exciting. You should…”

“No I’m not quitting,” he announced with finality, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“…nevermind then. Then what’s going on? You thinking of breaking up with me or something?”

“No.”

“Well I know you’re not proposing; you literally just wrote a song called Marriage is a Death Sentence.”

Your laughter echoed through the mausoleum but you stopped abruptly when Eddie didn’t join you.

He watched your expression change as you processed the thought. And when you looked back at him again he smiled nervously.

“Eddie…” you said hoarsely and then cleared your throat. “Eddie, you just wrote a song called Marriage is a Death Sentence.”

“About my parents,” he explained. “And how they did everything wrong.”

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “A lot of people get it wrong. Marriage is a Death Sentence. Those are literally the lyrics. You’ve been singing it when you wash the dishes.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s catchy.”

“It is, isn’t it? But...while I was working on it...it got me thinking that…I mean…just because they got it wrong, and a lot of other people do, doesn’t mean we will.”

You said his name almost desperately now.

"A-and," he continued. "W-we don't have to get married but...I don't know. Spending the rest of my life with you sounds pretty great."

He pulled one hand out of his pocket casually and with it came a small ring box. He shook it a few times and held it out to you.

There were a bevy of emotions cycling your face, all of them undecipherable, until you settled on shock.

Good shock...hopefully.

“You’re supposed to get down on one knee I think,” you whispered again.

Yeah...good shock.

He let out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah but what if it isn’t a ring? What if this is all just a red herring? What if I had to get one of my teeth pulled and it's in here?”

You let out a shocked laugh and your brows hitched together in question.

"Did you put a tooth in there?"

"I don't know...seems as likely as any other potential surprise."

“Is it another cootie catcher?” you guessed.

“Only one way to find out.”

He shook the box again.

You slowly took it from him, fingers deliberately brushing against his which caused his heart to race.

He felt lightheaded when you opened the lid.

You smiled so brightly, he swore you rivaled the sun.

“Oh…Eddie…”

---

December 1992

"So what'd you do?"

"What makes you think I did something?"

"I love you son," Wayne sighed and leant against the counter. "But you always do something."

It was Christmas. The worst time of year for both you and Eddie. Long shifts, angry customers, restless coworkers...but a standing promise to make it back to Hawkins for the holiday had been the light at the end of the tunnel. Especially since Wayne and Rick had come out to see you for the past few years.

It was tough but you and Eddie made it work; hit the road right after your Christmas Eve shifts had ended, fallen into bed as soon as you'd arrived at Rick's close to midnight.

And you didn't need to be back to work until the 27th.

It was a perfect little getaway.

Except it hadn't been perfect.

Because you hadn't been talking to each other past the standard "good mornings" and "see you tonights" all week. The drive had been made in silence. And you chose to sit as far as you could from him during Christmas dinner, opting to sit beside Wayne and chat all night, instead of right next to him like you always did.

And unfortunately, yeah...it'd been Eddie's fault.

Eddie knew that, and usually he could admit it easily. Fights between the two of you were few and far between, and you had a good track record for recovering from them. For some reason though, this time was different, and it was hard for him to admit how badly he'd fucked up.

Wayne could see right through the two of you, though. Especially through his nephew. No matter how good you thought you were at hiding it.

"There was this...big opportunity we could have had," Eddie began his explanation calmly. "But it wasn't a sure thing."

"Oh yeah?" Wayne hummed. "How big?"

"Big. Like...a once-in-a-lifetime thing. An underground show a buddy of mine heard about it through the grapevine. Said they were looking for an opening act. Wanted to throw me a bone." He hit the counter with his fist gently. "But...he got his wires crossed. Told me it was tonight. So it meant we'd need to miss Christmas. But it's really next week."

"Hmmm..." Wayne nodded sagely and kept listening.

Eddie suddenly felt uncomfortable at the tone though, and became desperate for his uncle to understand.

Understand that he hadn't meant to hurt you.

"Work's been hard this season Wayne," Eddie continued with an edge to his voice. "Made me realize that I don't wanna do this forever. I wanna make music. You know that. It's been my dream forever."

"I know it has."

"Me and the guys. Our dream."

"What'd you say to her?" Wayne asked suddenly, as he lifted the mug of eggnog to his lips.

His knowing gaze made Eddie fidget and harsh words echo through his memory.

"Why can't you understand? This is huge for us. How can we say no?"

"I didn't say you had to pass it up, I just said it was a shame that we'll miss Christmas."

"You don't have to miss Christmas, you can just go to your aunt's if you don't want to go to the show."

"You know what I mean. You know Wayne and Rick look forward to seeing--"

"Wayne and Rick would understand how big this is. Why can't you? Why the fuck do you care anyways? It's not like they're your family!"

Wayne swallowed a mouthful of eggnog and then his lips pressed together tightly with a long exhale. Eddie turned to watch you and Rick chatter while you organized the gifts into neat little piles; even though you were avoiding each other, seeing your smile made him feel a lot better than his uncle's intense stare.

"I fucked up," he croaked. "I know."

"How're you gonna fix it?" Wayne asked.

"That I don't know."

Wayne sighed and clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder.

"I would suggest," he leant in close and his voice rumbled, the same way it always did when Eddie would get in trouble growing up. The few times Wayne needed to intervene at all. "I would suggest you start with I'm sorry."

---

Eddie stared up at the glow in the dark stars that were stuck to the ceiling of the old guest bedroom that used to be his designated room at Rick's once upon a time.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

He couldn't sleep.

He might have spent most of his life in Hawkins but a few years in and around Chicago and he'd gotten used to the sounds of traffic and trains and people walking around late at night.

And it might've been easier if you were closer to him than you were, if the sounds of your sleep-deepened breathing and the soft snores you always denied were in his ear. Instead you were lying on your side at the edge of the full bed, as far from him as you could get, equally as awake as he was if your near-silent breaths were any indicator.

He turned his head and watched you for a moment before he took a breath of courage.

"Sweetheart," he whispered. When there was no response, he said your name, a little louder this time. "You awake?"

There was silence...heavy silence...and then you responded.

"Mmmhmm." You shifted to look halfway over your shoulder at him. "It's too quiet."

"I was just thinking that."

"Hmmm."

"I've got...a lot on my mind too."

"Yeah?" you turned fully now, lying on your back just like him; your shoulders touched but you refused to look at him. "What about?"

"I was thinking..."

What was he thinking? A lot of things. How to start an apology, how to fix this. How to make tomorrow better so your Christmas wasn't ruined.

"...that at least when we fight fight, we still talk to each other afterwards."

You scoffed and he closed his eyes, cursing himself and his big mouth.

"That...wasn't the right thing to say."

"No it wasn't," you sassed him immediately.

"It wasn't what I wanted to say either," he quickly added. "I wanted to say...that I'm sorry."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Aside from the fact that I know you too well," you began. "Rick was trying to get me to forgive you all night."

"Why did he think I did something?" Eddie asked incredulously.

"Because you always do something."

"God damn it, did Rick say that? Wayne said the same thing."

The two of you laughed together for the first time in days, and as you settled down, Eddie reached over and took your hand in his. He threaded your fingers together and rubbed his thumb back and forth to soothe you.

"I'm sorry that I...that I was a thick-headed, stubborn, big-mouthed idiot who hurt your feelings," he apologized. "I know that we've both been under pressure but there's no excuse. I could've been more level-headed, but I wasn't and I hurt you."

"Yeah well," you squeezed his hand tightly as you responded, "I guess I'm not innocent here either. I could have...been more excited for you, supportive. Instead of trying to make it about Christmas. I was thinking about how desperate I was to get away from work, excited to be back here. And it's no excuse. I'm sorry too."

"Yeah but I told you Wayne and Rick weren't your family."

"Well I told you--"

"Are we gonna fight again?" Eddie stopped you before you could get ahead of yourself. You huffed a soft "no" and melted into the bed, all tension in your body gone. "Did you like your Christmas gift?"

"Jesus." He could hear you rolling your eyes.

"Well did you?"

"Duh," you deadpanned. "Did you like yours?"

"Uh, duh," he parroted, a little more exaggeratedly. "You didn't give me a kiss though."

"Well you didn't give me a kiss either," you retorted, but you were already rolling over so you could close the distance and seal your lips against his.

The two of you showered one another with more whispered apologies and words of devotion before you got ahead of yourselves.

Clothes were shed, soft caresses shared, and lips lavished over the most sensitive parts of you.

You still liked it when you dragged your teeth along the shaft of his cock a little and got him to beg, and then Eddie returned the favor when he sucked a bruising hickey to your nipple that made you squeal and call him a god.

The two of you had lived on your own for so long that it was good fun trying to keep your voices down, or make sure the bed didn't slide across the hardwood floors with your passionate fucking.

And all slights were soothed when you reached the height of pleasure together, and whispered sweet words of affection and forgiveness as you descended back to earth.

Come morning, Wayne obnoxiously asked when the two of you were planning to hit the road back to Chicago.

"It's been a good while since I lost sleep thanks to your spirited activities," he noted, embarrassing the two of you in front of Rick. "No more fighting when you come back to visit in the future alright? I miss you dearly, but I can't say I miss that at all.”

---

April 1993

"It took you guys long enough," Dustin announced as he threw open the door.

“You know what, you try sitting in a rusty old shitbox with a bunch of musicians that still act like they're teenagers for 10 hours," you deadpanned and then pushed past the guys as they protested to pull Dustin into a hug. "Happy housewarming, congratulations."

It was Spring Break.

Well for the kids it was--although, they weren't really kids anymore were they--but for you and the guys, it was more like a long weekend. You'd scheduled yourself off for a few days, Eddie'd requested the whole week off, Jeff and Dave had traded shifts with coworkers, and Gareth simply quit his job.

"I'll find a new one," he reassured everyone, including his girlfriend, on St. Patrick's Day when he announced his departure before he and the guys had gotten on stage to play for a crowded pub in the suburbs.

It had been a headache and a half to get everything in order and everyone in the right place at the right time, but you were all here for one thing and one thing only.

Dustin's first apartment.

A Hellfire Club Reunion.

And a special one-shot that Dustin and Eddie had spent hours on the phone planning for the past few months.

Months.

You didn't think you'd been invited at first, but when Dustin told Eddie the full guest list, Eddie volunteered your attendance immediately.

Your forays into Dungeons and Dragons were few and far between; never a big campaign, only the one-shots that Eddie had put together here and there for the guys or a few coworkers who were interested. And this would be the first time that you played with such a big group. Or such an experienced group.

You were nervous.

"You'll do great," Eddie reassured you as he plucked snack cakes and sodas off the gas station shelves for snacks on the road. "I know the roleplaying is not your strongest suit, but it's just Henderson and the gang."

Now you were here and your nerves melted as you slipped further into mother hen mode the longer you looked around at what was obviously the apartment of college students. It was a familiar sight; you, Eddie, and the guys had all crammed into a duplex when you'd moved to Chicago and you'd had your fair share of pizza boxes stacked in the corners before garbage day and underwear of questionable origin and cleanliness tucked into the cracks of the sofa.

But that was a time long since passed and seeing it now made your fingers itch.

And your ears ring.

"...be here soon and I figured that you'd be here first to help me set u--Mom you ok?" Dustin stopped his chattering when he noticed you were frozen in the door of the living room. He glanced around the space that would soon host all of his friends. "Oh...yeah I should probably clean up a little more. To be fair, most of this isn't my mess."

You felt your eye twitch at his dismissive laugh.

"Jesus Henderson, didn't you just move in January?" Jeff asked when he saw the sorry state.

The boys all started giving Dustin shit, and Eddie had the foresight to put a hand on your shoulder and steer you back towards the door.

"We're gonna go take a quick smoke break; why don't you four nerds try to get this place looking a little more Hellfire appropriate in the mean time, m'kay?" he ordered them with faux sincerity. "We brought those props you asked for Dustin."

You heard the faint, sorry Mom, come from the boys as Eddie got you outside.

---

Eddie was extremely attentive and was quick to take charge of the ragtag group, running back and forth between the little stoop where you'd essentially set up camp right outside of the building, and back up to Dustin's apartment to make sure the cleaning and setup were underway.

"Hey listen, you boss enough people around at work," he reassured you when you insisted that you'd be alright to go back in. "You don't need to do it on your day off too."

You proved to be useful enough as the other started to arrive, little by little.

Max and Lucas had flown in from California and arrived via cab.

"It kind of sucks when the place you live is the place everyone else goes on vacation," Lucas laughed good-naturedly.

His younger sister Erica, who you remember from her days of buying scrunchies and glitter makeup, was now grown up and toted an entire kit filled with binders and notebooks and dice.

"It's my first ever Spring Break," she sniffed. "I could have been in Miami with my friends. But...I wouldn't miss this for the world, so it better be worth it."

Mike and Will drove up in the Wheeler's old station wagon, their siblings in tow in the backseat; Nancy and Jonathan had apparently been broken up for some time now.

It apparently had been an awkward drive for all of them.

Jane unexpectedly arrived with a new love interest friend and was beyond ecstatic to see you, barely letting you get a question in as she told you about everything she'd been up to.

Robin was unfortunately absent, but sent her regards along with the last person to arrive. Someone who you honestly didn't expect to see at all, but who had pulled up in a shiny new car, sporting a wedding band and a mustache: Steve Harrington.

"Look what the cat dragged in," you greeted with a smile. You pointed at the wedding band. "Seems like you don't need my relationship advice anymore."

"Same relationship," he chuckled and shrugged, suddenly bashful.

"No shit," you laughed. "Congratulations."

"Congrats to you too," he pointed to the ring on your own finger but you waved him off dismissively.

"Marriage is a Death Sentence. This is just...symbolic more than anything. We both know we're not going anywhere."

"Get more of a deduction on your tax return if you guys do tie the knot."

"Alright Ned Flanders," you rolled your eyes. "Taxes are a death sentence too. I'll ask Ed to write that song and dedicate it to you."

"By all means, I'm actually an accountant now. Maybe it'll get me some more clients."

You cackled.

You and Steve made some casual chit chat as you walked up to join the others now that everyone had arrived.

The apartment looked worlds different, especially with the abundance of candles that surrounded the table you all crowded around.

Dustin was taking the lead with this one, his DM screens in ominous abundance as he sat at the head of the table and filed through stacks of papers.

You looked around at all of your friends...really all of Eddie's friends who had become your friends, your family. It was nice to see them all in one place again.

Then you looked at Eddie himself, who looked right at home surrounded by them all. Laughing and spieling and picking on them with bright, glowing fondness that radiated off of him. You didn't think you could feel any more love for him, but suddenly in that moment, your cup overflowed.

He deserved this; deserved all of this...all of the love you all had to give and share with him because he loved you all so hard in return.

You took your seat beside him and grinned and patted your knee encouragingly.

"Perfect timing, sweetheart," he announced. "Hope you're ready to get absolutely obliterated."

Dustin hit a button on the stereo he'd set up beside him and everyone started to cheer as music and sounds created the ambiance of the adventure you were about to embark on.

"Welcome friends as we revisit a grand adventure of old tonight," Dustin began. "As we venture deep into Greyhawk and come face to face a great evil once defeated. Timelines have shifted, and what you might remember from the past is no longer what it seems; it will take great courage and strength to overcome challenges that you'd previously faced with ease. Are you up for the challenge?"

Everyone cheered again."

"Good," he said with a guttural groan, eyes rolling back in his head dramatically. "Then let us begin on our quest to face...The Cult of Vecna."

---

May 1995

It was like deja vu.

Maybe because he'd done this a thousand times, just not recently. It'd been years since he'd worked at the Mall, after all, and the muscle memory might have been a little out of practice, but it was still there.

He ran up the stalled escalator, long legs skipping every other step, until he reached the top, out of breath.

"Fuck," he bent over with his hands on his knees, panting. "Fuck. This is why I gotta quit smoking."

He'd taken the day off to surprise you; he and the guys were supposed to be recording today--their first album; it'd taken long enough--but this was bigger and he wanted to be there for you.

Needed to be there.

It wasn't every day that his best friend and beloved--the love of his life--his dear Store Manager...wasn't going to be a Store Manager anymore.

You'd both broken the news to each other on the same day. For weeks you'd only mentioned small developments in passing, never letting your hopes get too high just in case of a let down.

"We're getting signed," he announced as you'd collided into one another outside of your apartment building. "It's happening we're getting signed and we're gonna make a whole fucking album sweetheart!"

"Oh my god!" you shrieked. "Holy shit Ed!"

"No more weird touring schedules for fests, no more begging to get a song on the radio during the 3am broadcast, it's happening!" He cupped your cheeks and peppered kisses around your face.

"It's happening for me too," you laughed and tried to shake him away. "I got the job."

"What?!" he squished your cheeks harder until you jabbed him lightly in the stomach to get him to let you go.

"I got the job," you laughed, head tilted back as you announced it to the world. "Eddie, baby...you're looking at the new associate manager of Visual Development."

You'd spent the night indulging on a deep dish pizza, fucking making love, and talking about the future.

Maybe you could buy a house...maybe you could get a puppy...take an actual vacation someplace and not just a weekend trip to the Dells or wherever Corroded could find a gig...the possibilities were endless...

But from that moment on, it was a whirlwind.

The band had gotten started right away, signing contracts and working with the small label that had seen their potential and believed in them.

And now, a few weeks later, it was here. Your big day. Your last day as a Store Manager at Claire's, before you went off to their home offices to tell people what color scrunchie was gonna be big for the season.

There were a bunch of purple and pink balloons tied to the sandwich board outside of your store, and as Eddie got closer, he could hear snippets of conversation as your associates asked you about your new position.

"Have you seen your office yet?"

"Yeah, I have," you laughed.

"Is the desk pink?"

"No but the walls are."

"Do you get your own cell phone?"

"Probably not. I'm not the CEO guys. I'm just a manager."

"Are you gonna have to wear business suits?"

"No," Eddie answered for you as he quickly snuck up behind you. You jumped as his arms wrapped around your waist, but you quickly melted into the embrace. "But she's not gonna have to wear clothes from Seventeen Magazine anymore either."

"Yeah," you sighed. "It really sucks to wear clothes from the juniors department once you're past 30. They're just not made the same way."

"Gotta take your word for it sweetheart, I'm not 30 for another few months," he blew a raspberry against the side of your neck and squeezed you tightly in his embrace.

Your associates all sighed dreamily at the sight of the two of you canoodling—power couple who?—and Eddie was thankful for this once-in-a-lifetime chance that you wouldn't just swat him away for PDA while you were on the salesfloor.

"I'm sorry this is coming from the man who still dresses the same as he did when he was 17," you laughed and reached back to pluck at his battle vest that had only accumulated more pins and patches over the years.

"I'm very sorry that I'm not trendy, sweetheart." He kissed your cheek. "But I'm what you would call timeless."

"I'd like a divorce." You pulled his left hand away from your torso so you could attempt to pull the band off his ring finger. "Effective immediately."

"We're not married," he murmured teasingly in your ear. "Or did you forget?"

"You finally gonna seal the deal Munson?" you whispered back. "It's only been 10 years."

"Just so you can file for divorce? I don't think so."

"What if I trade you my longevity pin? I think it would look nice on your vest."

"How about...I take you to lunch first?" he asked, voice back to its normal volume. "And we negotiate the terms and conditions? She's got her big corporate lady pants on, trying to get me to sign a contract."

"I guess I could pencil you in," you feigned annoyance and then looked to your assistant manager. "Let me ask my secretary."

Both you and Eddie stared at them expectantly.

"Get out of here," they laughed at your antics. "Before I kick you out; so sweet, you guys make me gag sometimes."

---

The rest of your final shift was eventful, and Eddie sat in the chair of the Ear Piercing station while you chatted with your regular customers and received one visitor after another.

Old employees and coworkers, your mom who made you take a picture with the whole team, and then a very cheesy one with Eddie who dipped you for a kiss at the very last second.

Jen had come around close to 5 to bring even more balloons and a cake, and had made jokes that she was gonna have to haunt the corporate offices even more now.

"So we can talk shit, obviously," she joked.

Eddie had called Kyle up, who was now managing a store in Milwaukee, to tell him both bits of good news and Kyle had made the drive down to bring a sentimental gift to both of you on your last day.

A picture frame with a collage of polaroids from your years at StarCourt. There was a filmstrip from one of the photo-booths that depicted a younger you and Eddie, making funny faces and staring longingly at one another.

"You left this in the stock room once upon a time," he told Eddie as he pointed it out specifically. "That was before you were dating too. I squirreled it away and forgot about it but was gonna keep it in case you never got the courage to ask her out. And look at the two of you now."

"Yeah, Eddie watched you as you caressed the glass. "Look at us now."

"I still think I should have won the bet," Kyle sniffed bitterly.

You had scheduled yourself to close, and you were expertly restocking the scrunchie wall as the last few customers shopped.

Eddie kept snaking his arms around you and switching this scrunchie here for that one there, and you'd whine and complain about him messing up the color flow. Still, you never made any effort to stop him, and each time you stomped your foot petulantly, he would drop a smooch right on your cheek to "earn" your forgiveness.

"You know, this is what I was doing when we first met," you recalled after a few kisses. "Officially met."

"What?" Eddie asked.

"Restocking scrunchies."

"You sure?" he frowned and tried to think back. He vaguely recalled...bracelets of some sort...or had he just been looking at the jewelry. He'd been so nervous to ask you out back then...it was all a blur.

And he hadn't really even asked you out at that time either. Jesus Christ, what a loser he'd been.

Where would the two of you be now if only he hadn't fumbled on that first not-date? Right where you were now? Maybe broken up? A lot of the growing the two of you had done had been done with the soft buffer of friendship first...it almost caused his heart to ache to think that they might have caused an end to a relationship if things had been different.

Because now he couldn't imagine what his life would be like without you.

"You still haven't let me pierce your ears," you leaned in close to him, nose brushing against his, and teased him.

Eddie froze and then backed away.

"Well," he licked over his bottom lip pensively. "It is your last day...the last hour of your shift too...I think I could be persuaded."

You squealed and ran to get the forms ready. You didn't even let him fill them out, you just pushed him back into the seat he'd been occupying all day as you got it all ready.

"No more being afraid of needles babe," you cackled, the kind of cackle he'd only ever heard when you were being especially devious or evil.

"I have tattoos," he argued, trying to stand from the chair in protest, but you pressed your hand to his chest to get him to sit back down. "I have a ton of tattoos; if I was afraid of needles I wouldn't. Your logic is flawed."

"Yeah ok Spock," you dismissed his reasoning. "This one takes a chunk out of you though, so it's different."

"What argument are you trying to win here baby? Are you trying to get me to get my ears pierced or are you trying to get me to admit I'm afraid."

"Dealers Choice."

"You're lucky I love you," he grumbled.

You were silent for a while as you marked his ears, as you snapped on your gloves, and readied the piercing gun.

Was he afraid? No. He trusted you. But damn if the anticipation wasn't making him sweat a little.

Eddie closed his eyes as he prepared himself for the next step, but you paused and made one quick run across the store before returning.

"Alright I have one last important question to ask you," you began, and he peeped an eye open to see you standing there with your hands behind your back. "It's the age old question and I don't think we ever got a solid answer."

You revealed your plunder and then stared at him expectantly.

"Take your pick: broken hearts or gummy bears."

Eddie went soft as he stared at the two sets of studs backed by purple carding: little black broken hearts and the neon green gummy bears.

It was the age old question wasn't it? The first question he asked you before he even asked you out.

"See, if it was still 1985," he tilted his head back and forth, "I think this would be a hard one to figure out."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. But uh," he reached out and pointed to his choice. "Now it's a no brainer."

"Seriously?" you laughed.

"Seriously."

"And why are you, Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, the most metal band on Earth, picking the Gummy Bears?"

"Sweetheart," he singsonged, pausing for dramatic effect. "I think you know."

"I don't think I do," you parroted.

"Ugh," he scoffed and turned his head. "I guess I am the more romantic of the two of us."

"Answer the question, Cassanova."

"Sweetheart," he turned back to you, hand over his heart. "It has to be the gummy bears."

"Has to be?"

"Must be."

"Because..."

"Because I can confidently say that my heart is never gonna be broken if I have you around."

Your challenging gaze softened and Eddie swore that he saw tears at the corners of your eyes. For a moment he didn't know if you were gonna kiss him or start crying.

"Shut the fuck up," your associate shouted from across the store, ruining the sweet moment. "That was so adorable. Oh my god."

"Language Chels!" you scolded her good-naturedly.

And then, in those last few minutes of your career as a store manager, you kissed Eddie softly on his forehead...on his lips...and then punched holes right through both of his earlobes in rapid succession.

"Fuck!" He screamed. "Fuck!"

"I love you," you chuckled at him.

"Yeah. Love you too..." he grimaced. "Fuck! I love you."

---

Thank you for reading The Store Manager Verse.

#store manager verse #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson fic #stranger things fic

[crowdedimagines]

Roadkill - Aaron Hotchner Imagine

Based around the season 4 episode 23 titled Roadkill! I am going through a rewatch right now and just watched this one!! Also I am trying to stick to the storyline of the episode, but obviously things will be a little different in how they play out 🤩 3.6K

"How do you feel about Oregon?" JJ asks immediately after I pick up on the third ring.

"I have a feeling I would like Oregon a lot more when it isn't 3:00a.m." I tease, sitting up in bed, already knowing whatever she's calling for is going to be bad enough to to call us in this early.

"Can you be in to the office to brief in an hour? Wheels are up around 4:30."

"I'll be there!"

We both get off the phone so we can pack our go bags and get the day started, although earlier for both of us then intended. I manage to take a fast shower by the time I get out my phone is ringing again, this time it's unit leader Aaron Hotchner.

"I assume you've been informed that we have a case and we're meeting shortly." Hotch has his stern, yet tired voice on.

"Yep, showered squeaky clean. I just need some coffee and I will be on my way!" I smile, wringing out the moisture that's still in my hair and put the phone on speaker to set it down on the bathroom counter.

"I actually just made too much, I'm on my way in now. I could bring you coffee." He offers.

I pause in my actions, surprised by the offer. Although I would've been a lot more shocked a couple weeks ago. When I started with the team Hotch was going through a divorce, but in recent weeks there's been a shift in our dynamic and I'm not sure I'm dreaming it up. It all started a couple weeks back when I dropped off some baked goods after a rare long weekend away from work for him and Jack since it was his weekend to have him. They invited me to stay and I spent the rest of the afternoon with the boys. By the end of the night I was calling him by his first name instead of 'Hotch' which was a new development. Ever since it's been small gestures and looks that tell me something is different.

I've been a part of the BAU for a couple years, growing in confidence and skill the more cases I get under my belt. I spent four years in the military as a designated marksman before continuing my training with the FBI, which lead me to the Counterterrorism Division, and then to the BAU.

"That sounds great actually." I grin. Bringing me coffee to work is another new thing. Aaron has been chattier, smiling more, but coffee is a new ball park.

"Alright, I will be in around twenty. Drive safe."

I mutter back a "you too" before we both hang up. As I make my way into the office I'm the first to reach the bullpen, I came a little early once I knew Aaron was going to be in. A traveling mug is sitting on my desk and I take a long sip. It's still hot, and it's exactly how I always make it. It's also the traveling mug he almost always can be seen with. I set my bag down by my desk before climbing up the stairs to Aaron's office.

"Good morning." I knock lightly on his open door, "Thank you for this. It's perfect."

He looks up from the folder in front of him and the frown leaves his face.

"I'm glad."

I take a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk. It'll be fifteen minutes before the rest of the team joins us. Hotch begins to fill me in on some of the details without going too much into it. We still have to brief as a team.

"I don't think I've ever heard of a vehicle being used as the weapon." I surmise.

"It's highly rare. I've never seen a case likely this first hand." Aaron admits and we discuss a few more aspects of the case.

Eventually the rest of the team trickles in and after some light conversation I go back to my desk. Garcia comes in stomping directly to my desk.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Kevin is looking into a working a secret job and I wont even know where he'll be!" She gushes.

"Slow down, he what?" I spin around in my chair. Garcia fills me in on the details of the job and exactly what he had said to her. The worry on her face is permanent.

"Don't worry yet. He hasn't gotten the job, and if he's offered, you don't even know if he'll take it! Lets just wait to worry once we have something to worry about."

Penelope nods agreeing with my words before moving onto Morgan's desk to do the same and I smile and shake my head. JJ pulls us all into the conference room.

"An unsub that kills with his car." Emily states, "I haven't seen that before."

"Neither have the police in Bend, Oregon." JJ replies, displaying pictures on the screen in front of us.

"Two victims in the last twelve days." Hotch adds, "First was hit on a morning jog and the second was a woman stranded after her car broke down."

"Both female victims, but completely different age groups." I speak up, "The first victim was 23 and the second was 43."

"Maybe they aren't connected." Morgan thinks out loud.

JJ pulls up more pictures and explains that both victims were backed over after they were hit. No chance of accident and the same tread marks at both scenes.

"With where these wounds are, the worst of the blow is high on the bodies." I comment looking through the file, "It has to be a truck or SUV to match these wound patterns."

"See if Garcia can follow that. Try tracking makes and models." Aaron directs.

"There should be significant front end damage to the vehicle." Spencer chimes in.

"Unless our unsub is smart enough and skilled enough to cover his tracks." I begin, "Somehow I don't think it'll be as easy as finding a damaged truck."

It's a five hour flight from DC all the way to Bend but thankfully it gives us all the opportunity to rest up again. By the time we land we can go straight to the police station.

"I think it's safe to say our unsub is male." I read over the case file, thinking out loud with Aaron. This is something new too, we often brainstorm together and work well to get the other thinking outside the box.

"I agree." Hotch nods, "Given what we know about aggressive driving and road rage."

"And the fact that men have an unnatural bond with their cars." Emily laughs. JJ chimes in to agree, which turns into Morgan disagreeing before Rossi is also adding to it.

"I think he has to be overcompensating. Why else have a need for a truck that big." I guess.

"Possibly." Spencer comments, "If the unsub is physically defective the car not only gives the power and control he otherwise lacks, but it also serves as a shield."

"A way for him to avoid physical contact?" Hotch asks.

"He wants power and control of his victims." Prentiss shutters, "Female victims. It almost reads like an assault profile."

"I wanna know why he isn't getting personal with it then. If this is how he assaults women, what if there's something that prevents him from going a more traditional route. It's possible he's disabled." I suggest.

Hotch tells Garcia to look into it to see if anything recent could be a trigger and to look at the people surrounding the victims. Morgan and Rossi head to the highway to get a feel for it and see what they can get from it from the second victim's scene. Hotch and I head to where the jogger was hit.

"Not a lot of people jog here. It's a physically demanding hike." The sheriff informs gesturing to the trail.

"Well, she was a triathlete." I remind.

"The assailant drove behind her and ran her down right here." The sheriff walks us in to where the red stained gravel remains.

"She was jogging alone? Any woman would know if a car was following her up the trail. Her intuition would've been driving her crazy. She would get off the trail or call for help."

"What if he was already here waiting." Hotch agrees, taking in the scene, "What if she was the reason he was here and it wasn't random. He was waiting for her specifically."

"That would mean we underestimated him. It wasn't a random attack, it was planned and vindictive.

The team meets back at the station to go over what we've discovered. The second victim's husband comes in and recalls seeing a large black truck parked by their house giving us something. This confirms that he's targeting and stalking specific individuals.

"Ready be done for the night?" Aaron asks, he peeks his head into the conference room that only I occupy at this point. The rest of the team has already gone to the hotel to call it a night, but Aaron was still talking with the husband and I was just pouring over people in the area that raised some of Garcia's flags based on what we know so far.

"I suppose." I close the file I had been reading and rub at my eyes.

"It'll still be there tomorrow." He reminds.

"I know, the sooner the better though." That's something I don't need to remind him on. We both know it all too well. With an unsub this aggressive we know he isn't stopping anytime soon.

The drive to the hotel is short and comfortably quiet. Neither Aaron or myself have the energy to discuss anything as we're going on a fifteen hour day.

"Goodnight, Y/n." Aaron carried my bag in from the car to the foot of my bed in my room, even with multiple reassurances that I could carry it just fine. I give him a soft knowing smile before he leaves for his own room.

The next morning it's discovered that the unsub sabotaged the second victims car in order to strand them. He's very focused and well planned.

"We need to figure out why he's picking these women." Hotch states, "What makes them a target and links them together."

"Road rage, maybe they cut him off at some point?" I question, "Also how does he have the time to stalking these women to know their routines, sabotage a car, park and wait."

"Roughly eight percent of the United States is unemployed." Reid rattles off.

"Including someone who could be disabled and lives off of a pension." I remind from my earlier guess."

"Have Garcia look into it." Hotch states before walking away and I smile.

"Pretty girl is on top of it this case." Morgan teases with a smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I roll my eyes.

"Maybe it's something to do with her getting the case early and going over it with Hotch before our team briefing." Reid says with his nose already in a new file. I can feel my face turn a shade of red.

"Pretty girl is getting extra credit!" Prentiss joins in happy to tease, even adopting Morgan's typical nickname for me and Penelope.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about. I simply got in early and we were both at the office." I take a sip of my coffee, looking for any distraction, reaching out to grab a file for myself to ready through. I'm really glad that I didn't bring Hotch's travel mug in from the hotel, I still have it and I almost used it today. That definitely wouldn't go unnoticed with the people surrounding me.

Thankfully the team lets us move on and were able to brainstorm some more. Unfortunately it doesn't take long for JJ to interrupt to tell us there's been a third victim.

"Impact nearly cut him in two." The sheriff explains.

"Male victim?" I question as we arrive on the scene. The unsub hit him in a parking garage, pinning him between the truck and elevator doors. "He's getting more aggressive."

Cigarettes butts are discovered where the truck was parked in waiting. All of them stripped of the filter showing signs that he's military.

"Guys I think I know what ties the victims together." Reid interrupts, "All of the victims drove two door red coupes."

Garcia was able to look into car accidents that left someone injured enough to the point that he can't kill traditionally. He holds the person responsible for his accident for killing his loved one and his own disability. There's nearly twenty five people to still filter out off of the specifications we gave her.

"Wait you guys I think I found it." I sit up from the most recent file that had red flags, "Ian and Sheila Coakley crashed while driving home from Napa Valley on route 7 around midnight. It appeared their car was run off the road. His wife died at the scene."

"And Ian?" Rossi asks.

"He survived although he suffered a spinal cord injury."

Morgan and Prentiss go to his doctor to verify some information while we try to track down Ian. His house foreclosed after the accident.

"Track the parts for his specific truck. He's been doing his own repairs so they have to be sent somewhere." Rossi suggests to Garcia.

"Rossi gets a gold star!" Garcia sings, "He's having the parts drop shipped, I'm sending you guys the address."

"Hey, what do I get for knowing he would be disabled?" I jest, I called that from the plane.

"Nothing but my love, sugar." Garcia says before hanging up.

"I don't have a gold star, but well done Y/Ln." Aaron nods.

Arriving at the home Ian had been renting we find it empty but lots of surveillance photos of the victims and one other person who hasn't been harmed.

"Send this to Garcia now, we need to know who this is." Rossi hands me the picture. I send it to her and she's able to run his plate from the image.

It doesn't take her long to find him and contact his home, where she finds out that he's out biking with a group doing a thirty mile loop.

"Y/n, you're with me. We'll take the north side, Morgan and Rossi you start south and we'll meet in the middle." I quickly get in the passenger side of the SUV and Aaron takes off.

The biking club that target is in covers a lot of milage as Aaron speeds through the dirt road trying so hard to meet the group before the unsub does. Eventually we're closing in, but unfortunately the black truck is ahead of us and gaining on the bikers faster than we're gaining on him.

"Hold on." Aaron takes a risk by cutting Ian off before he can clip the mass of bicyclists. He does this by driving the front left corner of our car into the back right of his truck.

The airbags go off and were spun around from the impact.

"Y/n." Aaron calls. He says it a second time with more panic when I don't answer.

"I'm okay." I groan. The unsub is attempting to back his truck out of the ditch we're both stuck in to finish his mission. He took a much less impactful hit from our collision. I unclip my seatbelt and swing open my door, shattered glass falling from my lap as I stand up.

"Y/n, wait." Aaron instructs, he pulls hard on his seatbelt. It seems like he's stuck from the accident, but the worry on his face is only for me. I give him a look to say I've got this, while he continues to pull at his jammed seatbelt.

"Ian Coakley." I call out, and the man looks over to me briefly. It registers on his face that I am holding my gun and it's aimed for him, he has tears in his eyes.

"This is for Sheila." he floors it heading straight for the group that's waiting after witnessing the accident.

I plant my feet and aim for the back window of the truck, hoping to hit Ian's shoulder. Enough to stop him in his tracks before can harm anyone else without killing him. I've done enough killing myself over the years, and even with all he's done he's a man suffering with the grief of accidentally killing his wife.

The bullet leaves my gun with a loud crack, shattering the back window of the truck. He swerves but not enough to take him off the road. I let out a breath and fire again, this time sending a bullet into the back of his chair and sending his car off the road again to be stopped by a tree. I let out a huff of exhaustion from the impact leaning against the SUV.

Morgan and Rossi pull up and stop to get out and help Aaron and I after seeing our totaled SUV.

"Go" I wave them to keep driving to the unsub to see if he's ok and they do. Aaron manages to get out of the car finally, I hear Morgan call out to radio in an ambulance.

"He's still alive." Rossi shouts to us referring to Ian, they have him laying down now while applying pressure to his wound. The top of his shoulder which shouldn't be fatal, I sigh in relief.

"Are you okay?" Aaron asks finally rounding the back of the car to join me where I stand, he steadies himself. I nod, finally putting my gun away, feeling how stiff my body is.

Aaron fully ignores my nod, taking my head in his hands and pulling my eyelid open to check for signs of a brain bleed. He wipes at my forehead, pulling back his hand with blood on it. Maybe we were hit harder than I thought. Damn airbags.

"I think you have a concussion-" He states, "and you might need stitches."

The worry on his face is deep. I can feel the guilt radiating off of him, he was the one driving. He's the one that chose to hit the unsub's truck.

"I'm okay!" I reassure him, placing my hands on top of his that still rest on my head. This is crossing a new line. He's never touched my face, and I've never touched his hands like this.

"I shouldn't have done that. It was reckless."

"I'm glad you did." I disagree, "If we had waited any longer he would've been able to get his last victim. There's an entire biking club alive right now because of you."

This reminder seems to help slightly, he looks over my shoulder where the crowd remains. I pull him in for a hug, both of us shaking slightly from the adrenaline. After a while we pull apart, the rest of the team arrives as well as a couple ambulances. One takes Ian away immediately, escorted with two police officers as well.

"It took two shots? You're losing your touch." Morgan teases, thowing an arm around my shoulder that makes me wince a little. My phenomenal aim has always been a touchy subject with him, not liking being second.

"I'm concussed and he was driving fast." I defend, fully knowing how whiny I sound.

"Statically of our entire team Y/n would be the only one likely to have made that shot with the variable speed that Ian Croakley was traveling at." Spencer chimes in.

"I knew you were my favorite for a reason." I grin pulling Spence in for a hug effectively shaking off Morgan's arm.

"Yeah, whatever." Morgan shrugs, ruffling the hair in top of Spencer's head.

"Ma'am, you really need to get looked at." The emt reminds, interrupting our conversation. I leave the group and look over to see Aaron sitting on the back of one of the ambulances. We both finish getting evaluated, thankfully nothing too serious that we have to delay our flight home.

"You were right about the concussion." I grin walking up to Aaron as the sheriff walks off.

"And it would seem the stitches too." He reaches out again, thumb hovering over the threading sticking out of my forehead.

"Yeah, should make fore a pretty badass scar." I tease.

"I'm sure it will." He smiles, a real smile. The Aaron smile that I have seen so rarely, but more frequent lately. The plane ride back home is quiet, everyone drained, Aaron and I just flat out sore. By the time we get back to the BAU, Aaron sends everyone home saying the paperwork can wait for the following day. Everyone clears out and he goes back up to his office.

"Not following your own advice?"I question, walking into his office. I make my way round to his side of the desk and lean back on it. The edge of my thigh just barely meeting the outside of his arm from where he sits.

"Just wrapping up a few things before." He sets down his papers, his eyes raking all the way up me from toe to head, we both pretend I don't notice.

"You know, since I have a concussion they said I need to be under observation. No sleeping, crazy delusions, slipping into comas that sort of thing. You know anyone who wants to stay awake with me?"

"I can think of someone" He smirks, "I can put on a pot of coffee."

I pull out the to go mug he had brought my coffee in a few days ago out of my tote and hold it out to him.

"Take me home Aaron."

AHHHHHHHH i hope yall like this! i haven't written in forever to it was honestly just fun to do! :)

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