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glenncoco4 · 3 years

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You Can Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 2

••••

18 years later...

She steps into the gym, immediately sensing something in the air shift. It’s not a bad shift more like a welcomed shift, almost the same feeling whenever she enters a room that he’s in. Taking a quick scan across the room, her eyes land on a familiar mop of golden blonde hair attached to a man who’s pounding away at a punching bag.

Schooling her features, Kensi or “Tracy” strides over to a man that introduces himself as Janklow and begins talking about Danny, how she wanted to come to the place that her boyfriend talked so much about.

Janklow drops his guard just enough, calling the rest of their teammates over to introduce her, including one Marty Deeks, only today his name isn’t Marty and he’s not her best friend. Today he’s Jason Wyler fighting for a spot on an MMA team full of Marines.

••••

The three agents along with the tech operator and psychologist continue to stare at the monitor displayed with men from the gym, trying to figure out each ones possible motive to kill Zuna.

Callen’s brow furrows, his focus solely on the shaggy blonde. “What about Wyler?”

“He’s a bit sketchy.” She sends herself a mental high-five as she pictures her best friend’s reaction at her quip. “But he’s definitely not our guy.”

“He’ doesn’t fit in with the others. What makes you so sure its not him?” Sam questions, turning his attention to the brunette agent.

She shrugs, trying to remain nonchalant. “It’s just a feeling.”

The team leader share a look with his partner. “Or maybe its his baby blues.”

“Or his fluffy hair.” The ex-Navy SEAL finishes.

She huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “Listen, guys, I’m telling you, it’s not him.”

“Tell us, what makes you so sure.” Nate finally interjects, wondering what she saw in the blonde.

She wasn’t sure if she was going to have to out her friend but now she knows she does, there’s no way around it because if she doesn’t her best friend could end up hurt so she takes a deep breath. “Because his name isn’t Jason Wyler, it’s Marty Deeks and he’s an LAPD Detective.”

Callen’s eyes widen in shock. “And you know this because...”

“I was with him when he got his promotion.”

All four men’s brows simultaneously furrow in confusion.

Knowing they’re not going to give up until she gives them a little more, she relents. “He’s my best friend, the person I trust most in the world. He’s not our guy.”

The confidence in which she says it must be enough for the leader because he just shares aa look with his partner before turning back to her, trust written in both their eyes. “Okay.”

••••

Kensi’s just about to open Zuna’s laptop, when the doorknob starts to jiggle. Slowly reaching for the small of her back, where her weapon is secured, she watches as the door slowly opens and is caught off guard for the second time that day.

His cerulean blues widen in surprise when he meets her mismatched chocolate orbs for the second time that day. He really missed her, but that’s besides the point right now. “What the hell are you doing around here?”

“We’re investigating Zuna’s death. What are you doing here?”

“I’m undercover.”

“No shit.”

Before anything else can be said, Callen steps in from the kitchen, joining the two childhood friends.

“Marty this is Special Agent G Callen. Callen this is Detective Marty Deeks.”

The team leader takes the detective’s offered hand in greeting. “So I hear you know Kensi.”

“Yeah, know might be a bit of an understatement.”

Callen watches in awe of his coworker exchanging a smile with the detective. He’s not certain, but something tells him that the two are fighting something that’s inevitable. “Well we don’t want to step in on your investigation but we do need to find out what happened to Zuna.”

“Understandable.”

“Can you tell us what you’re under for?”

Deeks shakes his head, knowing that someone from the gym could and most likely is watching them. “Not here. There’s been a couple guys coming in and out from the gym since I’ve been here. I can probably slip away in a few hours.”

“You got your cell on you?” Kensi questions her friend, already knowing the answer.

“Just a burner.”

Callen nods in understanding. “Okay, give Kens your number and we’ll send you an address.”

“Sure thing.”

••••

She nearly jumps out of her skin when there’s a knock at the window. He’s definitely gonna pay for that later. Rolling down the window, Kensi see’s the confusion on his face.

“A Wendy’s, really?”

“Well, I couldn’t very well send you the address to the boat shed on a burner.”

When the words hit his ears, realization spreads across his face like an excited puppy that just got a new toy. “No!”

“Get in before I leave you here.”

Not having to be told twice, Marty hightails it around the SUV and quickly jumps in the passenger seat, shaking with excitement. “Kens, are you serious?”

Shaking her head, she checks her rear view as she slowly backs out of the parking lot. “I don’t know what your fascination with the boat shed is.”

“Are you kidding? It’s a secret hidey hole on the water, what’s not exciting about it?”

“Oh right, the Aquaman fantasy.”

“Okay, Miss I wanna fall in love on a ship and have sex in an old jalopy.”

She feigns shock and a little bit of outrage. “Hey, I told you that in confidence.”

“Yeah, but it’s slowly becoming my fantasy too so technically it’s okay.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her playfully. “Besides its just us here.”

Something in his demeanor feels a little flirty to her. Is she going crazy? When he flashes her a smile, she feels an unfamiliar surge of excitement run through her body. What the hell is going on?

He notices a look cross her features that he’s never seen before. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just...I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Kens.” Marty feels a sudden sense of contentment as he watches her look back to the road and sees the blush rise to her cheeks. There’s a fluttering in his chest that’s unfamiliar to him. What the hell is happening?

••••

Deeks caught the team up on his op and all that was involved. He explained how Danny hadn’t come home the previous night, something about meeting up with this new girl Tracy. That earned him a famous Kensi trying not to smile, smile, which to be honest is one of his favorite things.

It didn’t go unnoticed by the other two agents in the room at the change in their coworker when she was around the detective. She seemed happier, like she wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

The rest of the case goes off without a hitch, NCIS gets their killer and LAPD gets their drug ring bust, but most importantly Marty gets to go home...to his own bed.

••••

There’s a knock at his door, a smile spreading to his lips knowing exactly who it is. He unlocks the deadbolt, twisting the knob and pulls it open. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Agent Blye.”

Kensi steps around him and into his apartment, case of their favorite beer in her hand. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Shaggy Rogers.”

“Oh, touché.”

She sends him a smile over her shoulder and something washes over him. The spark in her mismatched orbs, is something he can’t quite describe. He shakes his head, trying to rid this unfamiliar feeling as she goes to the fridge, depositing the rest of the beer after taking two out.

“Pizza should be here in 30 minutes.”

“You got-“

“Hawaiian, yeah, yeah, but only half.” She shivers with disgust at his preference for toppings as she hands him the bottle.

“I would expect noting less.”

She squints her eyes, stepping up to him almost in a challenge. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Kensi Blye doesn’t eat any fruit unless its covered in chocolate.”

“I-I ate that apple that one time.”

“Only because your mom hadn’t gone to the store for groceries yet.”

She wants to retort but knows he’s right. So she steps around him, walking over to the couch, landing a soft punch to his shoulder on her way. “Just play the damn movie.”

“You’re the boss...KayKay.”

“I will kill you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You’re my best friend and the person I trust most in the world.”

“Clearly you’ve never seen Snapped.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, unable to stop the grin from appearing on his face. He missed this. He missed her and their banter.

A sudden knock on the door draws him out of his trance. “I think maybe you should get it. I don’t really want to have my back turned to you right now.”

“Haha.” She steps over his legs, whacking him with his cat pillow as she heads for the door. When she pulls it open, the last person she’d ever think it would be is standing there, all four foot and nine inches of her. “Hetty?”

“Miss. Blye.”

“Come in.”

Kensi ushers her boss into the apartment, eyes wide as saucers as she locks on with his.

Sending him a hint of a smile, Hetty takes a seat in the chair next to the couch. “Hello, Mr. Deeks.”

“Hello, Ms. Lange.”

“Please, call me Hetty.”

“What can I do for you, Hetty?”

“Actually its more what I can do for you.”

Kensi’s brow furrows along with Marty’s as the OSP manager hands the detective a manila folder.

Opening it he’s a little caught off guard when he sees all his information spread out before him. Everything from his statement from when Donald Blye saved him and his mother all the way to his most recent case. “Wow, Kensi was right. You are a secret ninja lady.”

The brunette feels the heat rise to her cheeks, feeling the scrutiny of her boss’s gaze fall on her.

Shaking her head, a tiny smile curls at the old woman’s lips. “It’s clear to me that you two work quite well together...even better than Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna.”

“Tell us something we don’t already know.” Marty playfully nudges his best friend, trying to get a smile out of her but is unsuccessful. Instead her features are unreadable. What Hetty’s asking would be a huge deal...monumental. I mean working with his best friend, not going under by himself anymore, working with a team...with her. “Can I think about it?”

Kensi’s eyes find his, trying to figure out which way he’s leaning. She can tell he’s holding back because of her, he doesn’t want to over step. He deserves this, a team and people that will truly watch his back and selfishly she wants to be the one to do it and he do the same for her.

He sees the hopefulness in her eyes and knows the same is mirrored in his own. Getting a nod of approval from his best friend, he turns to his new boss with a smile. “I’m in.”

After he signs the form, Hetty gladly takes the folder back from their new liaison before taking her leave. “Well then as I understand it, you have a major undercover you’re working on and when the time comes you’ll get pulled back in but in the mean time, you’ll be reporting to OSP.”

“Thanks, Hetty.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” She sends them each a smile, showing herself to the door.

Once the door click shut, Kensi turns to her best friend and now partner...he’s her partner. She can’t help the Cheshire Cat like grin on her face. “We’re gonna be partners.”

Unable to stop himself, Marty closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her in hug that’s so familiar to them its like second nature. “We’re gonna be partners.”

••••

The following Monday had Kensi leading her best friend, now partner into the OSP Headquarters. She couldn’t help the smile that was tugging at her lips as she watched the shaggy blonde in his awestruck wonder as she showed him around the building.

Their first case together is a high profile missing persons case which results in Kensi being held captive but like always, her partner along with Sam and Callen has her back and they live to see another day.

••••

He’s waiting at the car for his partner when the buzzing from his phone draws his attention. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the offending object and immediately rolls his eyes as he reads the caller ID. “Bates, what do ya got?”

As his Lieutenant fills him in on what’s going on, Marty’s brow furrows and his body deflates, his eyes catching those of his best friend as she walks towards him with a bright smile on her face. One thing he hates most is having to cancel plans with her.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

She waits until he hangs up the phone, her eyes meeting his, already knowing that their plans to go to the music festival this weekend are trashed.

“I’m not gonna make it in tomorrow. Bates just called me, undercover op we’ve been working on and I finally got my in.”

A sad smile crosses her face, she knows its not his fault. This is what they signed up for. “The sex-trafficking case?”

“Yeah.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tonight.”

“Okay.”

Her reaction is something he can’t quite describe. He knows what he wants it to be, but he’s just not sure. One thing he knows for sure is that now is not the time to lay it all out on the table. “Kens-“

“You’ll be careful, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She scolds herself for letting her emotions slip, he doesn’t need this right now. He needs to be focused on his mission, but if she can get a little more time with him, she’ll gladly take it. “Do you have time to grab something to eat before you leave?”

He throws his arm around her shoulders, placing a kiss to the top of her head as they turn to walk towards the pier. “Always have time for you.”

There’s something about this goodbye that shifts their entire relationship, what it may be, they’re not sure. One thing is certain though, their lives are even more intertwined than they thought.

#Densi #Densi Fanfic #AU #Kensi Blye #Marty Deeks #Kensi x Deeks #You Can Count On Me #Chapter 2 #NCIS: LA #NCIS: LA Fanfic

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vintagedolan · 4 years

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cross country (gbd)

description: when you get stuck in california during quarantine with a dwindling lease at the dolan’s house, grayson wants nothing more than for you to get to new jersey with him

word count: 4.5k

warnings/tags: fluff, this is literally um the softest thing i’ve written???, quarantine/COVID, grayson spoiling Y/N, you get the picture hehe

feel free to send in requests! i’ll write most things! hope you enjoy, send me some feedback and I’ll give you my eternal love :)

You never wanted to lift another box in your whole life, that was for damn sure. There was sweat running down your forehead as you lifted the next one, carrying the cardboard all the way through the house into the living room, which was becoming a huge pile of everything that the twins had acquired over their years in LA.

The plan was simple: the boys were going home to jersey to see their mom before the quarantine got too serious, and then they were coming right back because they needed to find a place in LA, seeing that their lease was ending.

Well, needless to say, that plan had gone to absolute shit. And that meant you were thousands of miles away from Grayson, and had three days before you would be homeless.

Lovely.

The nice thing about it was that you didn’t have much time to mope - since the boys were still in jersey, all the packing was left up to you. And while you were efficient, it didn’t mean it wasn’t a lot of fucking work.

You went back into Ethan’s room, getting another box of clothes. As you walked, your phone vibrated in the pocket on the side of your leggings. You knew who it was, but you waited until you got to the living room and sat the box down to answer it.

A facetime from Grayson. That brightened your mood considerably.

When you swiped over, you immediately relaxed a bit at the sight of his face. His hair was getting so long during quarantine, and it was pushed back with a headband he’d borrowed from his mom, no doubt. He was in a tshirt, which was different than the rest of the times he’d called you. Which was about ten times a day.

“Hey baby,” you smiled at him, catching your breath as you walked back to your shared room. As much as you wanted to sit down and relax and talk to your boyfriend, there wasn’t enough time for all that.

“You look exhausted,” was the first thing he said.

“Wow, thank you so much, love you too,” you teased.

“You look beautiful, you know that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying that-”

“I’m kidding Gray. And before you start worrying for the hundredth time today, I’m fine,” you reminded him as you pulled out a dresser drawer you shared, beginning to transfer the clothes into yet another box. He watched you work with sad eyes, and you knew what was coming before he said it.

“I feel like shit that you’re doing all this work.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do.”

“Would you do it for me? If you were stuck across the country in my house-”

“Our house,” he corrected. You couldn’t tell if he was referring to sharing with you or with Ethan, or both, but you kept going regardless.

“Okay, stuck in our house, and I needed to pack it all up, would you do it for me?”

He hesitated, and you knew he didn’t have a good response to that.

“That’s different,” was his only comeback, and you laughed a bit.

“Bullshit. You’re just mad because I’m gonna have to wear all your clothes cause none of mine will fit over my new muscles,” you joked, flexing your scrawny arms. You knew you looked dumb, but it got the laugh out of Grayson that you were hoping for, and that’s all that mattered.

“Right, you act like you don’t just wear my clothes all the time anyways. I’m not even sure you have any clothes of your own,” he teased, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh really? I could have sworn these were mine.” You dug around the drawer, finding a particularly nice pair of lace panties, holding them up to the screen. He groaned, falling out of screen for a moment. It took a second for you to realize he’d fallen back on the bed.

“You don’t play fair,” he said once he moved his phone back to his face. “I miss you so fuckin’ much, you have no idea.”

You were pretty sure you had an idea. This was now week four without seeing him in person, and it was actually awful. You’d known it would suck, but you didn’t think it would hurt to be away from him. And you were doing everything you both could - facetime dates, phone calls, texting, he’d even written a letter to you. But there was just something about being in his arms, hearing his laugh without the distortion of a phone speaker, waking up next to him; it couldn’t be replaced.

Which meant you needed to mention your plan.

“I wanna come to jersey,” you started.

“You know I would kill to have you here baby, you know that.”

“Grayson, the lease is ending. I think that counts as a reason for emergency travel. I mean, I’m technically gonna be homeless,” you reminded him. “And I know I can stay with Shane, or with Jeffree.” They had been nice enough to offer. Hell, Jeffree was letting the boys store everything at his house, even the cars. “But I wanna be with you.”

“I don’t want you on a plane. You could get sick.”

“I won’t fly. I’ll take the van. I mean, that’s why you built it, isn’t it?”

“Y/N...”

“I know, it seems crazy. But if I split it up into three days, I could do it. I’d be careful at gas stations, pack up enough food to last me. You know I can drive for forever, I could probably pull 15 hours or so a day, that would get me back pretty quick, and I’d be safe.”

“Safe,” he breathed, shaking his head. “Y/N, I was sketched out sleeping in that thing with two other grown men with me. The thought of you sleeping in there, alone in some parking lot...” he trailed off. “No. It’s too risky.”

“Gray-”

“Baby I want you here more than anything. Not knowing when I’m gonna see you again is actually killing me, but I’m not putting you at risk over that.”

“Okay, well, let’s compromise then. What would make you feel safer about it?”

“You not doing it,” he said bluntly.

“Be serious babe.”

“You sleeping alone out there. I know you’d be fine with the driving, but I’m not okay with you sleeping in the van by yourself.”

“Okay...” you paused for a minute, trying to think of a solution. “Okay, what if I drove at night, and then I slept during the day? Less people on the roads, and I think we’d both feel safer if I was sleeping during the daylight. Would that work?”

“That’s better. I still don’t love it. I’m not trying to be difficult, I just, I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he mumbled, picking at the fabric on his blanket.

“I know that baby, to be honest the thought of sleeping in there alone scares me a little bit too. But I’m willing to do it if it means I get to see you.”

Grayson was silent for a while. You knew he was fighting with himself, and that he probably felt selfish for even considering giving in. But you also knew, deep down, you were going to do it no matter how much he protested. So you were glad when he finally conceded with a simple “I love you”.

Now, with the realization that you were going to see him in just a few days, your motivation was renewed ten fold, and you got to work.

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

night one

You would have thought it wouldn’t be hard to get to sleep after the day you’d had.

You were wrong.

The furniture had been moved out - Jeffree had been nice enough to hire a few movers to come get the furniture and the cars. Now, the house lay empty besides your bags that would go with you in the van, and you couldn’t wait to get on the road. Correction; you couldn’t wait to get to Grayson. The thought of seeing him again gave you butterflies.

Once everything was done and final, you drug a few of the cushions out of the bed in the van, bringing them into the air conditioning so you could try to snag a few hours of sleep.

While you managed to get a bit of rest, it was mostly futile. The quicker you got on the road, the quicker you’d get to jersey.

So with that, you packed up the van with all the food and snacks you had, reassembled the bed, tossed your bag in and climbed in the drivers seat.

I’m leaving, see you so soon!!!!!! you sent to Grayson, not being able to contain your excitement.

4pm is not a night drive... he responded quickly.

shut up im excited BE EXCITED

you know i’m excited. be careful, I’ll call you in a little while x

With that, you drove out of the driveway for the last time, with New Jersey in the GPS.

And the drive wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Grayson called you around 7pm to check on you and keep you company. You ate the sandwich you’d made as the sun set, and you continued down the road. It was peaceful if you were honest, and the van drove so nicely - Grayson really had done a good job.

Although he tried to stay up, Grayson’s snoring took over around 11pm (2am jersey time you reminded yourself), so you hung up and starting blasting some of your favorite tunes to keep you alert and awake. Not having any traffic was a bonus, and you were amazed with the progress you were making. By the time the sun came up, you were already in Colorado. You resorted to driving until around ten, which landed you about at the border of Nebraska after a whopping 18 hours. You pulled into a non-sketchy looking parking lot, relieved that you’d found one.

I’m stopping to sleep for a few hours. I love you!

You sent it and started rummaging around in your bag, finding your toothbrush, toothpaste and pajamas. You brushed your teeth outside using your water bottle, changing in the car and cuddling up in bed. The bedding smelled a bit like the boys, which was comforting. Just as you started the settle down, your phone rang, Grayson’s contact photo popping up. You swiped over to open it, happy to see his face.

“Hey baby, I was just about to get some sleep actually,” you said. And now that you had laid down, you realized how tired you truly were.

“I know. I’ll mute my side so I don’t keep you up, but I’ll be here in case you need me,” he said casually.

“Grayson you don’t have to-”

“I want to. It’ll make me feel better, knowing someone is watching out for you while you’re asleep.”

It was so sweet that you started to tear up, so you just buried your face in the pillow instead.

“I love you.”

“I love you too baby, get some sleep.”

And you did.

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

night two

You woke up around five, fully refreshed - other than feeling like you needed a shower. You stretched out before getting up and heading to brush your teeth. When you got back in the van you got changed into some of the clothes you brought, happy to have on something fresh.

“That’s my hoodie.” The male voice startled you and you squealed, covering yourself.

“Baby it’s just me! It’s me!” It took you a minute to realize that it was Grayson speaking to you from your phone, which also was pointed where he could see you.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” You huffed, pulling the fabric over your head.

“Sorry, I was just enjoying the show,” he blushed, smirking at you a bit. You rolled your eyes, but giggled with him as you climbed into the drivers seat once again, pulling out the dinner you had packed, deciding to eat a bit before getting back on the road.

“I can’t wait to see you,” Grayson sighed. You looked at your screen closely and realized he was in his workshop.

“I’ll be there so soon. Now, go build some stuff, I’m all safe and awake now. I love you,” you smiled, knowing he would never be the first to hang up.

“Okay baby. Drive safe, call me if you get bored.”

“I will, love you!”

And so you took off, heading through Nebraska. The states seemed to be getting quicker now as you passed through Iowa, then Illinois, and even Indiana. Grayson called, and even Ethan kept you company for a few hours on the drive, making it go by fast. By the time you got to Ohio, the sun was high in the sky and you realized you actually weren’t that far from jersey. Only another seven hours, and if you kept driving, it would put you at their house around 7pm. You thought about the cold brew that you’d stashed in the fridge in case you’d struggled through the nights.

You could use it, and you could make it. In all honesty, you weren’t even that tired as the excitement started to mount.

But you also knew that Grayson would rather you just sleep, and that he was going to call you again. So, you had to hatch a plan.

You pulled into a nice looking parking lot, prepared to set it into motion.

You changed into your pajama shirt, taking your hair out of it’s bun so it looked like you were getting ready to go to bed. Taking a deep breath, you facetimed Gray.

“Is it bedtime?” was how he answered, making you laugh. He was in the kitchen at home, making lunch you were sure.

“Yeah, I made some good progress! I should be getting in around 8am or so tomorrow morning,” you explained, hoping he couldn’t see through you.

“I can’t wait. I’m gonna pamper you so hard for all the work you did, that’s a promise.”

Your heart fluttered at his words.

“I can’t wait. But I’ve got sad news.”

He perked up at that, putting down the spatula he was using.

“My phone is kinda low on battery, so I don’t think we can facetime tonight. I don’t want it to be dead in the morning, and I can’t run the van,” you sighed, faking sadness.

“Are you in a safe area?”

“Yeah, I feel totally safe here. See, look.” You turned the phone around, showing him the lot you were in.

He wasn’t happy about it you could tell, but he trusted you. And thinking about how excited he would be made you feel less bad about your white lie.

“Well, okay. Just text me when you wake up okay? I love you.”

“Love you more!”

“Doubtful. Get some rest,” he smiled, hanging up.

“Ha!” you exclaimed to yourself, smiling and fist pumping the air. Wow. You really were going crazy after being alone so long. You climbed in the driver’s seat again, pulling the cold brew out of the fridge and popping it open as you started to drive again.

At first you were so excited that it felt like time was flying, but by the last few hours it was dragging by. The sun set, and the kiss of dusk was hanging over the trees as you got closer and closer.

But when the GPS changed from hours to minutes, and the roads changed from interstates to back roads, you were fully awake once again. You’d actually managed to pull off almost 24 hours of straight driving. When you pulled into the driveway, there was a gate and armed security - the same ones that the boys had hired in LA.

“Hey guys, I’m early, I’m here to surprise Gray,” you explained. They were sweet like usual and happily let you through, closing the gate behind you. With some renewed energy, you stopped the van and brushed your teeth again - in all honesty, you felt disgusting and couldn’t wait for a shower, but the coffee breath was a definite no go. If you were going to kiss Grayson for the first time in a freakin month, you didn’t want to be worried about anything.

Once you were back in the drivers seat, it was time for a little fun.

You pulled your phone out, facetiming Grayson and driving super slow. He picked up quickly, concern on his face.

“Is something wrong?” was the first thing he asked.

“No, i’m okay. I started driving again cause I couldn’t sleep, but now I’m lost. My GPS took me onto some long ass gravel road, and now I’m surrounded by trees and I have no clue where I am,” you ranted, using every ounce of acting ability you had to not tip him off.

“Slow down, hey it’s alright. Why don’t you just turn around and go back the way you came, and then we can figure it out.”

“I don’t know, I think theres a building or something up ahead of me, maybe a store? I could ask somebody for directions?”

“I’d rather you just go back. I don’t trust some random store at the end of some sus ass road. Just turn around baby,” he pleaded, getting a bit panicked. Luckily, you knew it wouldn’t last long because you were already in front of the house. You cut the lights on the van.

“Here, you tell me if it’s sus. What do you think?” You flipped the camera around, showing him the house.

“I mean - wait. WAIT. WHAT? WHAT!? NO FUCKIN WAY,” he yelled, obviously freaking out. You laughed, hanging up the call and waiting for the inevitable. Sure enough, you’d barely gotten the driver door open when Grayson came barreling out of the front door.

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you unbuckled your seatbelt and started to climb down. Grayson beat you to it, coming to the opening of the door and reaching up to pull you out of the car. You were laughing as he grabbed you, wrapping you up in his arms.

“No fuckin way, no fuckin way that you’re actually here right now! What the fuck!”

“Surprise!”

“Did you drive all night? Or all day? I just... WHAT!?” He was truly speechless and it was the most adorable thing in the world. He leaned back slightly so he could look at you, eyes wide with amazement.

“Maybe,” you grinned, shrugging.

“God I love you. C’mere.” His hands slid down to your hips, then around to your ass and you knew exactly what he wanted. You jumped and he caught you as your legs went around his waist, and then his lips were on yours.

It was like the best first kiss you could possibly imagine. You’d thought about kissing him constantly while you were apart, but you were realizing that it had done this no justice. His lips were soft and warm against yours, the taste of him familiar and wonderful. Your hair started to move in the wind and you realized that he was spinning the two of you around, his boots crunching on the gravel beneath you. You could feel the smile on his face as you kissed him, never wanting it to end.

“Ewwwww,” was the only thing that could have brought you out of it, and sure enough, it did. Ethan was on the porch, leaning against the pillars. Despite his words, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey E,” you smiled, laughing a bit at how you must look right now, waving at him while Grayson was still holding you up.

“Go say hi, I’ll get your stuff,” Grayson smiled, kissing your temple and putting you down. You turned and jogged towards Ethan, who gave you the biggest bear hug, even spinning you around a little bit.

“Missed you squirt,” he teased, swaying back and forth a bit.

“Missed you too,” you grinned, squeezing him tightly.

“Thanks again for uh saving all our possessions and moving all our shit.”

“You’re very welcome. And you also have a shoe problem, just so you know,” you teased.

“I do not!” He exclaimed, putting you in a bit of a head lock and rustling your hair. You pushed against him but it was futile, and you were stuck until Grayson came back and saved you.

“C’mon, let’s go say hi to mom and get you to a nice bed,” he smiled, putting an arm around your shoulders and leading you inside. You’d only been to the house in Jersey a few times, and it was under renovation, so the finished product was a very welcome sight. It was all light walls and tables with dark finishes, cozy yet bright at the same time, even at night.

Lisa came around the corner, lighting up when she noticed you were there.

“Y/N! Grayson told me you weren’t gonna be here until tomorrow!” She gave him a bit of a scolding look, which made you laugh.

“That’s on me Li, I got a little too impatient and decide to drive on through,” you explained, accepting the hug she gave you.

“Well you must be exhausted, you go on upstairs and get some rest, we can catch up tomorrow,” she assured you, giving you another squeeze before letting you go.

You didn’t even try for the boys bedroom - you knew that Grayson had been sleeping in the laundry room. So you headed in that direction, Gray in tow with your duffle bag in hand. As you saw the coziness of the bed, every last bit of energy you had drained from you. The crash was coming, and it was coming soon.

“You ready to sleep?”

“As tempting as that sounds, I really need to shower, I feel disgusting,” you mumbled. Just twenty minutes, and you would be able to sleep. You could do that, for sure.

“Okay, here I’ll get you a towel and stuff, you remember where it is?”

“Yep, I’ll be there in a second.”

You rummaged through your bag, finding your toiletries and some clothes. But when you saw Grayson’s stack of shirts, you couldn’t help but snag one. Everything you’d had at the house had lost it’s scent, and you couldn’t help but breathe it in for a second before heading to the bathroom.

When you got there, Grayson was laying out two towels, and already had his shirt off. You stared for a moment, taking it all in, but even with the view your eyelids were heavy. You were fading, fast, and you had the sudden realization that if you all tried to have reunion sex later, you would probably be so exhausted you wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. And you really wanted to enjoy it.

“Gray,” you said, walking over to him.

“Did you find everything you needed? I’m sure mom has some extra stuff if you need it.”

“No I’m good, I have everything. It’s just-”

He looked up then, cocking an eyebrow. It took him a minute, but when it clicked you saw him smile softly, coming over to you.

“It’s not about that. I just wanna take care of you, that’s all. I figured you’d be too tired,” he explained.

“I’m sorry baby.”

He just kissed you, hands finding the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head.

“No apologies necessary. C’mon, let’s get you clean.”

You both stripped down the rest of the way and he turned on the shower, which was huge. The tile was white and marble like, and the water pressure made you feel like you were in a spa as you brought your toiletries in. Grayson washed his hair quickly while you let the water run over you, and when he was done you felt his hands find your shoulders, rubbing at the knots he found with his thumbs. You relaxed back into his touch, closing your eyes and resting your back on his chest.

“Let me get your hair,” he said, reaching behind him to get the shampoo. You didn’t have a care in the world as he worked the suds through your scalp, making sure to get every bit of it before he started to rinse it out. By the time he made it to washing your body you were practically melted, so lost in the relaxation that you weren’t even sure it was real.

“You’re humming,” Grayson teased, pressing a kiss to your shoulder after you were rinsed off.

“Am I?” You mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Let’s get you dry before you pass out on me.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he helped you out of the shower, wrapping you up in a towel and kissing your nose. “You should let me do this more often.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, his statement waking you up a bit as you started drying yourself off.

“Well, you are miss independent you know. Miss ‘I can pack up an entire house with nobody’s help’ and ‘I can drive across the country solo, no big deal.’ I like when you let me take care of you sometimes,” he mused, rubbing his towel over his body and hair quickly before pulling on his boxers.

“Does that mean I get a free ride to bed?” You teased, keeping it light hearted even though you were melting at his words.

“Not dripping wet you don’t,” he smiled, taking your towel and running it over your hair, making you giggle. You were sure it looked something like Albert Einstein when he pulled the fabric away, but he kissed you anyways, passing you a shirt, shorts and your undies. You put them all on quickly, your limbs heavy with fatigue.

“Alright, off to bed.” With that, he scooped you up bridal style, carrying you out the door, down the hall and into the laundry room. He sat you down gently on your feet for a moment, pulling the covers back and climbing in, immediately opening his arms for you.

“I know you’re not tired,” you mumbled, crawling into bed and immediately resting your cheek on his chest. You put one leg over his, wrapping your arms around his bare chest as he pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair.

“Doesn’t matter. Not a place in the world I would rather be. Now sleep so I can spoil you like I had planned to tomorrow.”

If you’d had any energy left you would have questioned him, but instead you lulled off to sleep in his arms, more content than you could remember being in a long, long time.

#:)#im living for the new jersey boys to be honest #lynds writes #grayson imagines #this one was lowkey fun #send me some requests and let me know what you thought of this one!!!!!#grayson dolan #dolan twin imagines #dolan twins imagines

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stardust-walker · 3 years

Text

High Hopes: Chapter 15

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

word count: 3897

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Julian didn’t know what to think of the new group that had just come onto the farm. He didn’t trust the one guy, that was for sure. He’d gone into the city with Otis and had come back without him. Otis was a good person, but it didn’t sound right. He probably would’ve done anything to save a little kid but the guy seemed sketchy. He felt sort of relieved when it seemed like not everyone bought his bullshit either.

He was jumpy as he waited for Maggie to get back from her run to the store. Since Otis, the thought of people leaving the farm felt like they were marching off to their deaths. A smile was on his face as he finally spotted Maggie riding up on her horse with Glenn. That guy didn’t seem too bad, at least. Unable to contain himself, he leapt off the porch and had the reins of Glenn’s horse in his hands before the other man could say anything. “Let me help you put the horses back,” he said brightly.

Maggie and Glenn exchanged a look before Maggie replied. “Sure thing. Thanks for all your help out there, Glenn.”

Julian looked over his shoulder as the other man hurried off to join the rest of his group by the tents as the dark haired woman from before and her redneck companion came out from the trees. “What do you think,” he questioned Maggie before he clicked his tongue and began to lead to horse to the stable.

“Nothin to think. They find that little girl, odds are my daddy’s gonna make them leave,” Maggie shrugged her shoulders from atop the horse.

Julian nodded his head slowly, “You see anything out there?”

“We didn’t see her out there if that’s what you’re askin me, Jude.” Maggie shook her head before she let out a long sigh.

Julian’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t help but stare out at the barn in the distance as he opened the door to the horse’s pen. A shiver ran down his back before he averted his eyes. “Better than the alternative, I guess.”

Dove rested somewhat easily that night, she felt some comfort in the fact that the next day would mean the search was in full swing. She still hated doing the laundry, though. She would rather be out there in the woods looking for Sophia, but Carol had roped her into her chore. “C’mon. No one wants to help me with this. Andrea’s off tryin’ to play Annie Oakley somewhere and Lori’s still sleepin.”

“I wish I was still sleepin,” Dove grumbled as she picked up a basket of clothes. She squinted her hazel eyes at the closest well. “Jesus, what happened over there?”

Carol shook her head. “You missed it. They sent Glenn down into the well. Apparently there was a walker down there.” Dove opened her mouth to reply but Carol cut her off. “I know you woulda raised all types of hell if you were here, but Glenn’s fine. You’ve seen him.”

Dove huffed and blew a stray hair out of her eyes. “I’m gonna give that little bastard a piece of my mind for not tellin me about that. When I’m done with him, he’ll wanna go back down that well.” She let out a chuckle.

It felt like hours, but it wasn’t too long until she was sitting on top of a picnic table, basket of wet clothes next to her. She handed Carol a wet shirt to hang up as Lori stepped out of her tent. “Mornin, princess,” Dove called over cheerfully, “Nice of you to join us.”

Lori managed a weak smile as she walked over and greeted the two sisters. “Can’t believe I slept in.”

“You probably needed it,” Carol smiled at her.

“Yeah, I think we all need to take turns sleeping in. It feels amazing,” Dove yawned as she ran a hand through her ponytail.

“You feelin ok,” Carol scrutinized Lori carefully as the other woman nodded. “I have an idea I wanted to run by you two. That big kitchen of theirs got me thinking, I wouldn’t mind cooking in a real kitchen again.” Dove smiled as she thought about Carol’s cooking. She definitely wasn’t a five-star chef by any means, but Carol was a good cook. There was no doubt about that. “Maybe we all pitch in and make dinner for Hershel and his family tonight. Kind of looking for things to keep my mind occupied.”

Dove leaned back on her hands with a heavy sigh as she looked up at the sky. She really wanted to be out there. She wanted to help look for Sophia, but she knew Carol would fight her on it. Maybe the right place for her to be was here on the farm; she needed to be with her sister.

“Seems like the least we could do,” Lori agreed.

Dove nodded her head, “Yeah sure. I’ll try to help. I’m not real good in the kitchen, but I’ll try my best.” She flashed her sister a quick smile.

“You mind extending the invitation,” Carol smiled at Lori. Would feel more right comin from you,” Carol reasoned.

Dove eyed Lori. “You’re like our unofficial First Lady,” Carol joked.

Lori and Dove both rolled their eyes but Dove let out a snort of laughter. “President Rick Grimes? I don’t remember votin, but that sounds about right,” she raised an eyebrow at Lori and raised a hand quick enough to block a clothespin from hitting her face.

Meanwhile, Julian had made his way over to the group by the car. He felt like he should be trying to help them look for that little girl. Every person out there could make a difference in finding her or not. He would want people out there looking for his sister like this if he had any idea where she was.

“She might have gone further east than we’ve been so far,” Rick stated as he laid the map out in front of them.

“I’d like to help,” Jimmy spoke up first and Julian narrowed his eyes at the younger man. Hershel would kick his ass for trying. Jimmy was just a kid, but Julian was grown enough to make his own decisions. “I know the area pretty well and stuff.

“I think I know the area better than you, Jim,” Julian spoke quietly as he approached the group.

“Hershel’s okay with this?” Good question. Julian would like to believe Jimmy, but he couldn’t help but think the kid was full of shit trying to look cool in front of his girlfriend.

“Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me,” Shane spoke from the car.

Shane gave Julian the creeps. “They found Elizabeth Smart nine months after she went missing on pure chance of someone noticing the people who took her,” he remembered seeing something about it when he was younger and it just stuck with him. Shane might be a cop, but it seemed like he wasn’t too invested in the search.

“Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high,” Daryl held his hand out to about elbow height. Definitely seemed like a little kid and unless Georgia was suddenly overflowing with feral children, Shane was full of shit.

“Maybe we’ll pick up her trail again,” Rick sounded hopeful.

“No maybe about it. I’m gonna borrow a horse,” Daryl pointed at the map. Hershel won’t be happy about that, Julian thought but didn’t speak. He didn’t want to get on the bad side of this guy.

“Good idea,” T-Dog spoke up, “Maybe you’ll see your Chupacabra up their too.” A short laugh echoed from behind Julian and he turned to see Dove, still perched on the picnic table, shake her head.

“Chupacabra,” Rick inquired.

“You never heard this,” Dale sighed. “Our first night in camp, Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of a time he went squirrel hunting and he saw a Chupacabra.” Julian shuddered at the thought of the goat sucking monster; Jimmy laughed. Julian gave him a quick slap to the back of the head as Daryl spoke again.

“What are you braying at, Jackass?”

“You believe in a blood-sucking dog,” Jimmy questioned.

“You believe the dead walk,” Daryl sneered.

“He’s got you there, Jimbo,” Julian shrugged his shoulders as he rested his hand on the hood of the truck. Jimmy reached for a gun, man that kid was really trying it today.

“Why don’t you come train tomorrow,” Shane offered. “If you’re serious, I’m a certified instructor.”

Andrea spoke up, “For now, he can come with us.”

“If it’s alright, I’d like to go with Jimmy.” Julian turned his attention to Rick. He didn’t feel like going in a car with Shane. The last man to go with him somewhere didn’t exactly seem to fare too well. Even if it meant going with the woman that he didn’t really know and someone who’d made fun of someone for believing in a Chupacabra.

Rick nodded his head and held out his hand to the younger man, “Alright. Thanks for helping us, kid.”

“Julian, sir.”

“Rick is just fine,” the sheriff smiled a little.

“Right, sorry. Not used to bein too friendly to the police. But, no problem, Rick. It feels right to help. Just hope we find her,” Julian nodded his head. The others didn’t notice him tense up as he turned his attention away from the barn and focused on the search plan.

Dove let out a heavy sigh as she turned her attention from the parting group to the house. She couldn’t keep Carol waiting much longer or she might send out another search party for her. As she ascended the steps, Glenn caught her attention. He seemed out of it. “Yoo-hoo. Earth to Glenn,” Dove waved a hand at him.

The man jumped slightly as he turned his head to look at his friend. The smile on his face fell slightly as he realized who was standing in front of him. “Hey, Dove. You not heading out today?”

“Nah, decided I might as well tend to my womanly duties,” she flicked her hair behind her shoulder in an exaggerated manner. “You alright, bud? You see kind of out of it since you got back yesterday.” Dove frowned as she leaned against the post.

“I’m fine. Just…a lot going on in my head, you know,” Glenn smiled sadly as he rested his hand on the guitar in his lap.

A sly look was in Dove’s eye as she spoke. “Well channel all of that emotion into a song and I’m sure you can woo yourself a farmer’s daughter in no time,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

The blush that shot up into Glenn’s cheek answered any questions she might have had. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothin! Just that I think a blind man all the way in Korea can see what I’m talking about! But that’s none of my business,” she shrugged her shoulders and took a step closer to him. “But if you do happen to want to talk about it, just let me know! I’m your friend and I’ll always be here to listen. Plus, no better person to go to for girly advice than a girl.” She chuckled as she ruffled Glenn’s hair.

Glenn smiled at the woman as she took a step back towards the door, “Thanks…”

Dove thought that Hershel’s house was nice and she made sure to tell them so. “Well thank you,” Patricia nodded her head politely.

Dove bit her lip as she looked around the hallway. “I just want to thank you,” she turned her attention back to the older blonde. Her expression seemed to be unreadable. Something about these people was off to her. They all seemed nice, but something wasn’t right about any of them. “For letting us stay here while we look for our niece. It’s not something you have to do especially now, you don’t know any of us from those walkers in the streets.”

Patricia held up a hand to stop her, “It’s not a problem. I just want to make sure that Rick and Hershel have made it very clear to you…”

“Once we find Sophia, once Carl is good to roll, we’re gone,” Dove nodded her head. “But still. Thank you,” she smiled as she turned on her heel to walk into the kitchen. “Just hope you don’t mind your mashed potatoes with a little crisp,” she called as she entered the room, “I suck at cooking!”

Carol shook her head at her younger sister as Lori laughed. “You can measure the ingredients,” Carol patted her arm.

“Listen, we all have skills. I was not made to be a house wife,” Dove raised her hands in surrender. “You, however, were a better housewife than any man ever deserved.” She winked at her sister.

Slightly uncomfortable, Lori changed the subject quickly. “You know you weren’t made to be a housewife?” She looked over her shoulder at the younger brunette as she began to peel a potato.

“Sure do. I was a few months away from trying it out, but let’s just say I had to cancel the subscription before the free trial ended,” Dove popped a piece of carrot into her mouth.

Carol clicked her tongue disapprovingly, “Still think you were better off. He seemed unstable.”

“Who? Owen,” Dove questioned her sister with a raised eyebrow. Carol just turned her attention to her. Dove rolled her eyes as she picked up a bigger carrot and started to peel it. “I mean he was a little…quirky.”

Lori let out a small groan at this, “Honey, we all know what quirky means. Quirky is code for ‘you’re unstable but I love you’.” The older brunette elbowed Dove lightly.

Carol let out a quiet snort of laughter at this, “You got that right. The one time when we went up to visit, we stayed in DC so-”

Dove cut her off with a panicked laugh, “Alright listen, I get it! Owen was unstable and I have terrible taste in men, but it’s over now so…we don’t have to rehash that story! Alright.”

It was quiet in the kitchen for a moment before Lori whispered, “You’ll tell me later?”

“Oh, you bet,” Carol whispered back as Lori picked up a bucket to go collect more water.

“The hell you will,” Dove shouted as she picked up a carrot shaving and whipped it at her sister. “Be serious and cut up your god damn carrots,” Dove laughed and shook her head. Still, her thoughts went back to her life before everything went to shit. Actually, this was more like her life going to shit take two. Carol was right, she was way better off.

“Bout time you strolled on up here, Dixon.” Daryl’s attention snapped to the side, back to the direction of the farm.

“Hell do you want,” he snapped at the figure in front of him even though he knew she wasn’t real.

“Should really be getting home,” the figure spoke as she twirled a small pendant between her fingers. She wasn’t really there, but her hazel eyes stared right into his soul just like if she were there, “getting dark out.”

“Shut up,” Daryl snapped as he started stomping back towards the farm. The figure was a few steps ahead of him as he shuffled forward. “Don’t give a shit anyway.”

“Like you said. Merle wasn’t there for you, so why should you listen to him,” the voice was further ahead now and he glanced around before he spotted it a few yards ahead between the trees. “So man the fuck up and use you head for once, asshole.” When Daryl blinked, she was gone.

Dove had decided to take a break from the kitchen, but she didn’t seem to be able to find anyone that she wanted to see. Glenn seemed even more miserable than before, the other men were back without much news, and Daryl still wasn’t back yet. The last part made her feel uneasy. It was getting dark out. A creek on the porch made her turn her attention. “Julian, right? You find anything before,” she stepped towards him.

The young man lowered his binoculars before he shook his head, “Not a thing. Sorry. Maybe your friend found something?”

“Who?”

“The redneck guy. Daryl?”

Dove scoffed, “I don’t think that you can really say that me and Daryl are friends but…”

Andrea’s panicked shouts about a walker cut through the relative silence. Dove felt her pulse quicken and Julian shook his head, “we don’t get many walkers out this far.” He stepped quickly off the porch to help out and shoved the binoculars into Dove’s hand as he went.

Something in her gut told her to look through and when she did, the binoculars fell from her hand as she took off at a run. “Wait,” she shouted as she ran faster than she thought she had in years. She didn’t even realize how quick she was running until she was about halfway across the field.

“Is that Daryl,” Glenn said.

“Holy hell, man. You look like shit,” Julian shouted.

“That’s the third time you’ve pointed that thing at my head,” Dove heard Daryl reply and she slowed down to a walk as a relieved laugh left her lips. “You gonna pull the trigger or what?”

It was silent for a few moments as Dove continued to approach the group. Glenn turned and noticed her but as Dove opened her mouth to call out, a gunshot rang out. What left her throat instead was a panicked scream as adrenaline took over and she took off again. She didn’t even realize what she’d done until her knees hit the ground. Rick was screaming back at Andrea and there was blood on her hands. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck,” Dove turned her head back in the direction of camp before she turned her head back to the sight in front of her. “Dumb fucking bitch, cmon don’t be dead please.” Dove muttered as Rick dropped to the ground next to her. “She shot him in the fucking head,” Dove’s voice shook as she reached a shaking hand out and turned Daryl’s head slightly.

“Good thing she’s a bad shot,” Rick mumbled as Daryl let out a pained groan. His eyes fluttered open for a moment and Dove felt relieved as she realized that he might look out of it, but he wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t dead yet. A hand on her shoulder pulled her to her feet as Glenn wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Glenn gave her shoulder a squeeze as they watched Rick and Shane haul Daryl to his feet. “I was kidding,” he growled before he passed out.

Anger flared through Dove as Andrea approached them asking if he was dead.

“He’s wearing ears,” Dove heard Glenn’s panicked voice over the pounding of her blood in her ears. Her gaze fell to T-Dog as she fought to control her anger. How could you be so stupid Rick told you not to do it, she raged internally. Even the sight of Sophia’s doll couldn’t calm her down. All she could think of was how, if Andrea had killed Daryl, they would never know where Sophia might be.

She reached a boiling point as they crossed over into camp. All of the bullshit thoughts and prayers about Sophia. All of the wanting to save people and act like she was big and tough. On top of losing Sophia, it was too much. “I’m so sorry,” she heard Andrea say again as Glenn finally released her arm.

“You’re sorry,” Dove rounded on the blonde woman. The few people who hadn’t rushed into the house froze, Carol put a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “You’re sorry that Sophia’s missing. You’re sorry that you wanted to blow yourself up. You’re sorry that you fucking almost killed the one person who might have the best shot at finding Sophia,” Dove’s voice was eerily calm as she stepped closer to the blonde.

“I thought he was a walker! I was just trying-,” but Andrea didn’t get to say what she was trying to do. There was a shout and all of a sudden, both women were on the ground. Dove only managed to land two punches to the woman before she was wrenched away from her.

“Bitch,” Dove shouted as she was pulled back towards the house. She watched with narrowed eyes as Dale helped Andrea back to the RV.

“Holy shit,” Julian mumbled as he held the squirming woman tighter as he tried to pull her towards the porch. It was quite a task, but once it was accomplished, he sat her in a chair and hurried off into the house.

Dove’s attention finally turned from the RV as she winced. A quick look down showed her that a cold washcloth was being placed on her knuckle by Carol. “You shouldn’t have done that,” Carol mumbled.

“Yeah well, she shouldn’t have shot someone,” Dove closed her eyes and shook her head.

There were quiet footsteps as she heard Carol walk back into the house. She sat like that for a while before the door creaked open. She opened her hazel eyes and her shoulders slumped as Rick walked out. The sheriff knelt next to the chair and she felt her shoulders tense as she waited for him to reprimand her.

“I’m not here to yell at you,” Rick sighed as he ran a hand down his face, “I very well should be for the stunt you pulled. I don’t wanna have to hear about you tryin to fight like that in front of my son like that. I’m sure you understand,” Rick glanced over at her.

Dove nodded her head before she turned her gaze over to Rick. “Sorry…I just got,” she took a deep breath, “I got real angry like I haven’t in a real long time.”

Rick frowned and nodded his head, “I understand the last few days have been real hard on you and Carol, so you don’t need me to be hard on you too.” Dove sat up a little straighter and faced Rick fully. “But I just wanted you to know that Daryl’s just fine. He’s resting, we didn’t tell him that you punched Andrea.” She raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s a discussion that you should be able to have by yourself. But he did tell us where he found Sophia’s doll. Pointed it out on a map and everything so we have an even better grid to look for her,” Rick smiled and Dove felt the corner of her mouth quirk up into a smile.

“Thank you, Rick,” Dove whispered.

“Not a problem,” Rick patted her arm.

Dove moved the washcloth from her hand and flexed her knuckles, “Guess it’s best if I don’t sit next to Andrea at dinner, huh,” she joked and Rick chuckled quietly.

“I would advise you not to do that. Just in case,” he rose to his feet and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I want you to know that I’m gonna do my best to find her. I promise.”

@crossbowking @momc95 @chaotic-gary-king-stan

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #Daryl DIxon fic #daryl x oc #daryl dixon x oc #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #rick grime #lori grimes #carl grimes #my writing

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heli0s-writes · 5 years

Text

IV. The First Taste*

Summary: NSFW Chapter. Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader A/N: Modern AU, Teacher reader, Dad/Baker Steve… lots of pining, slow burn, romance. Enjoy!

Slow Like Honey Masterpost

Since you kissed Steve Rogers in your classroom on that Thursday afternoon, you’ve kissed him again and again after each meeting. It’s been precisely two more lunch dates, one more dinner date, and one long walk in the park on his day off before he was suddenly called in for an emergency pastry situation. That’s five kisses. Five dates. Five moments you lie in bed and think about while trying desperately not to scream.

You scold yourself every time because a part of you is embarrassed that you’re so—thirsty! But good God, the man is a tall glass of water you want to drown in. It’s been two stupid years since you’ve kissed anyone, and when you’re in bed at night, you hope that it’s not your lack of practice that’s been keeping him from moving forward.

You can’t be that bad, right? … Right?

But it’s always you who initiates, and Steve always keeps it short and sweet. Once, you felt the slightest flick of his tongue against your bottom lip, but then as quickly as he’d done it, he pulled away.

Grumbling, you press your pillow over your face and punch it a couple of times before settling back down into bed. You peer at the back of your hand in the darkness of your room and contemplate on trying it just like you used to when you were a kid. God, this feels stupid.

Tomorrow, you’ll just ask. Because you’re both adults and because he was your… boyfriend. You smother yourself with the pillow again, because that was an even more mortifying thought than making out with your own hand.

In the morning you go for a jog and make yourself a quick protein and fruit shake breakfast afterward. Then you head to the pool for about an hour before coming back home. Everything is quiet, and the world is peaceful, now that you don’t have the lives of twenty-five children hovering over your every waking moment. You shower and lie down on the couch before turning on a baking show. Looking around, you survey your apartment. It is so damn barren and cream-colored. You’re not strong nor brave enough to go get a bunch of furniture by yourself and start arranging.

Sighing, you settle on an easier task: maybe today you’ll go buy some houseplants.

Steve texts you a picture of a cheesecake around noon as you’re spraying water into the soil of two new succulents and a hanging fern. You show him your fern, placing your hand next to it for size reference. The messages between you are short and brief, since you see each other pretty often.

Summer break unravels you a little bit, but you’ll be damned if you let your new (very adult) boyfriend know. You play video games and browse the internet with a bottle of wine on the weekends, and your summer is just a giant weekend. It’s almost troubling, really, because every summer you have to either find a new hobby to keep yourself entertained.

Last year you took up rock-climbing and baked a lot… but with Steve around, that just seemed like a good way to get laughed at. And of course, the summer before that one was spent moving out of your ex’s apartment and trying to keep your head above water. You shudder at the thought. If it wasn’t for the very fortuitous call back from your current workplace, you would have probably had to move back home or continued spiraling into credit-card debt.

You text Steve, asking him to suggest a new hobby to you.

Right away, he responds and recommends that you join his watercolor session at the bakery:

I’m teaching a two-hour workshop Sunday after we close. The sign up sheet is already full but… it helps knowing the teacher personally doesn’t it? I do a ceramics one in the winter, too!

You blink.

Steve… I can only draw if I invoke the spirit of Other Steve from Blue’s Clues.

Oh perfect, now he’s calling.

“Yes?” You answer. His laughter is ringing on the other line.

“Hey! Blue’s Clues is an excellent show! And, I gotta admit, that guy can really draw.”

You huff and sputter at him, “Stop messin’ with me. Last year I baked a lot but now that you’re here… I really need a new hobby- a doable hobby!”

He chuckles again before his voice grows quieter. Bossa nova plays in the background, and the coffee grinder is buzzing intensely. “Oh honey,” He whispers, and you’re nearly gasping at the way his voice sounds—low, deliberate—like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Come to the workshop, won’t ya? It’s just a beginner’s thing. I think you’ll really like it. For me?”

The quick-draw refusal you were so sure you could unholster on time is nowhere to be found, not with him asking you so sweetly like that. You grouse jokingly and accept, warning him that if he laughs at your unskilled hand, you’ll never take his advice again.

“Me? Laugh at you? Never, sweetheart. I can’t believe you would think that of me.”

“Oh hush, Steven.”

A puff of air escapes him and everything grows quiet. Steve mutters something you can’t quite make out, and then, even louder than before, the coffee grinder screeches. “Everything okay?” You ask, worried.

“Yeah. Um, yeah. Everything’s good.”

You’re suddenly reminded of the way he pulls away after a good night kiss and reach to unholster that gun.

“Hey—uh wha—why do you--- um.” What the hell is the right way to ask this question? Why have our tongues not fought for dominance? Why haven’t both my hands gotten lost in the front of your button-up shirt? Why have you not pressed your hard, broad chest against me?

Maybe you’ve been reading too much Cosmo or Buzzfeed Relationships in your quest to find the right answers.

“Huh?” Steve asks. “What’s that?”

You holster the gun.

“Nothing! Ha! I’ll see you Sunday!”

“Okay, hon… See you then. Don’t be nervous! It’ll be great!”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you place your phone on the coffee table. Crisis averted. Then, you search for basic video tutorials on watercolors as well as tips for beginning artists on your phone before casting it to the T.V. It’s entirely baffling and when you pick up a pencil and try to draw your new succulent on a nearby notepad, the voice coming through the speaker sternly states that you should “make marks deliberately-- not fiddling about with sketchy, hairy lines like a fuzzy caterpillar!”

What you’ve been working on looks exactly like a fuzzy caterpillar, and your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

So you try again, erasing furiously before attempting those “deliberate” lines. After nearly fifteen minutes, you sit back and peer at your creations.

“Jesus.”

Your smooth, plump, glossy plant looks like one of those inflatable tubes outside of an auto dealership in the middle of deflating.

You feel deflated, too.

Over your dinner table is a corkboard of photos and postcards, and you walk over to snag Steve’s thank you card from its place in the corner. You study his technique and peer at the delicate forest green line of each stem- just a single, continuous stroke. The petals seem to be merely blobs of color if you’re looking closely, and where the flowers touch, sometimes the pigments bleed over each other.

No, it’s not a perfect thing. But it is gorgeous, still.

So, you try… again. This time, you tear off the deflated succulent drawing and place it on your coffee table in the left corner. Just for good luck, you chant “Steve, Steve, Steve!” as if he’s Beetlejuice, and get to work. Half your brain is thinking of the striped green shirt and oversized crayon, and the other half is thinking of a striped blue shirt and oversized pecs. Either way, both of them could art.

You’ve drawn all year for your students- especially your ESL kids who struggled with codeswitching. Sometimes, when they were unable to find the right word, or you were, you’d draw a picture instead. According to twenty-five first graders, you were an amazing artist, so… what the hell!

Ten minutes later, you tear off the top of the notepad and set it down next to its brother.

The two are stark differences, and your second one is little bit better. You’re almost proud of it—smooth flowing lines, rounded edges, and even a flat plane of the table to ground the pot.

Sitting back, you click around some more, making sure to choose videos that are most helpful to your current ability. Those speed-up painting videos were hella tempting, but you do not want to get lost in the rabbit hole.

Sunday is two days away. At the very least, you were going to be able to draw a damn good succulent.

---

You come in early to help him close before the workshop begins. Cap&Co. closes on Sundays right at six, and the workshop would start half an hour later.

The baristas say hello to you and smile, and you do the same back before you grab a rag and spray a counter down. The leftover pastries and sandwiches are placed on a tray and put in the middle of the room, where the tables and chairs have been pushed together by Steve.

“Snacks!” He smiles, “For the students.”

“Does that make me your student too?” You tease, finding the situation a bit ironic.

He winks at you before hanging up his apron. Between the four of you and the work that’s left, it’s quickly finished in the next ten minutes and the employees leave, wishing you a good night as they go.

Steve lets you choose the music for the night as he brightens the lights, and you randomly scroll through the shop’s selection before picking an old album you used to like as a younger girl—Fiona Apple’s 1996 Tidal. Right away, the singer’s brassy voice catches his attention.

“Who is this?” He asks excitedly, “I think I heard her on the radio the other day!”

You tell him, and he nods along to the music as he sets out sheets of watercolor paper clipped neatly on boards. Then he lays out five travel-sized round palettes already filled with an array of colors. By the time all the paintbrushes are next to each clipboard, people are starting to arrive and Steve is back and forth saying hello and giving hugs. You finish the end of the preparation and fill up heavy mason jars with water and set them at each spot. Then, you take your seat with a cake pop and eagerly and watch him lead the demonstration.

“Thanks for coming, everyone!” He smiles widely at the end of the table. “Good to see some of you again!”

This must be what your students feel like, you think—you hope, because you are absolutely enthralled with everything that pours from his mouth. Even the way he stumbles over his words fascinates you, and the fact that he is so animated and engaged makes you love it even more.

Steve tells the group that he’ll demonstrate for about twenty-five minutes before everyone can start either trying out various techniques, or if they’ve done it before, can begin on painting whatever they please and he’ll come around to offer help. He suggests the plants for a nice still life, or other knick-knacks around the shop. Some returning students have even brought their own objects and you want to pinch yourself because you could have brought your succulent!

Then, he begins, showing you the right way to load the paintbrush with paint and water, and how water tension is so important to the medium. He shows you the difference between a wet brush and a dry brush. He shows you how to layer the colors. Your brain can hardly keep up with your eyes as they enthusiastically soak up the colors over his paper and the way his wrist moves easily back and forth from the mason jar where he cleans the bristles, to the palette saturated with pigment, to the paper where strokes are being placed.

“Here is a quick and easy way to make a flower.”

Steve loads a fat brush with water and pulls two shades of orange onto the white of the palette. In one swift motion, he streaks a daub of it onto the paper, letting the water gather more heavily on one side.

“We’ll let that dry for just a second— but we can do this for now.” He presses the tip of the brush into a tiny bit of red and makes another mark similar to the first one. The edges of the paint that touches leaks into each other, creating a tiny blossom of red into the first petal.

“This is what will happen when your paint is still wet—but that’s okay!” He makes two more petals—slightly more yellow than the last and touches his finger to the one with the accidental red bloom.

“It’s pretty dry now.” He blows softly on it for good measure and mixes a rosy coral shade into his brush.

The last petal is swept over the first, and the overlapping area where they touch turns into a vibrant shade of ripe orange. Then, quickly, he sticks the wood handle of the brush sideways between his teeth and picks up a smaller brush, wetting it, loading it with a deep purple that’s almost black, and makes a spray of dots in the middle.

“There ya go!” He takes the brush out of his mouth.

A part of you thinks that you are fucked because you may have just fallen in some deep shit here, as you stare at him, grinning widely—so proud of himself and somehow proud of you, too, for listening.

He’s made it seem impossibly easy. An absurdly beautiful blossom from his imagination stares at you from the watercolor pad in his hand as you shakily pick up the brush next to your hand.

“Well… shit, Steve.” You whisper before breaking out into a silly laugh and putting your forehead into your palm at the thought of the herculean task at hand. The woman to your right laughs along with you as she makes scribbly marks and drips globules of blue water onto her paper. Steve beams at you lovingly as you try to imitate the way he made the first petal, steering the water where you want it to go.

It doesn’t.

But you’re determined, damn it. Because one, you really want to impress him, and two, you really need a summer hobby.

The next hour flies by as you paint diligently, occasionally humming along to Fiona Apple’s resonant vocals in the background, chatting with the other painters. They’re all regulars at Cap&Co., and they adore the Rogers family.

Steve circles the room and answers questions, giving pointers, and sometimes putting his hand over yours to lead your paintbrush. He even kisses you on the top of your head when you finish your first flower—a lavender five-petaled ...cephalopod.

The affectionate gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by the others as they smile and quietly ask him questions when they think you’re not listening. Your ears go hot the rest of the night—just as hot as the top of your head because Steve!

Before you know it, it’s time to pack up. The album has already repeated, and it’s back to an early track. No one seems to mind, however, as they take their papers and wave goodbye. You linger in the area, pouring out dirty water and putting the jars back under the sink. Steve puts away the paints, fixes the rest of the tables, and you return to the café area to join him. He’s patting his thighs with his wet hands when you come in, nodding along to the music.

You gaze at the damp spots on his legs, the fabric of his trousers slightly clinging onto his muscles. Quickly, before he sees you, you look away.

“This exact song was on in the car.” He mutters amusedly, “I really like this… she’s got a great voice.”

Steve walks closer to you, stopping a few steps away and leans against the edge of a wooden booth. He crosses his arms and press his lips together, eyelashes fluttering as he smiles.

“What now?” He asks. His voice echoes the same low and deliberate tone you’ve heard before, and you think that the question isn’t really a question at all. But you’re not really sure what to make of it—tonight may have been the most forward he’s ever been.

The lights are dimmed. The piano melody crescendos before the song ends. There’s a pause of silence before the next song begins, and you feel your heart leap as the first few words start.

I lie in an early bed, thinking late thoughts.

“Um…” Your voice cracks.

I do not struggle in your web because it was my aim to get caught. But daddy long-legs, I feel that I’m finally growing weary of waiting to be consumed by you.

Steve cocks his head to the side, also listening—to the music, perhaps to your now uncomfortably loud heartbeat. You run your hand through your hair. The music chimes into a more upbeat tone as the chorus starts.

Give me the first taste. Let it begin. Heaven cannot wait forever.

“Why don’t you ever kiss me first?”

His eyebrows raise briefly before he blinks a couple of times. You tilt your chin to your chest and lace your fingers together, foot tapping anxiously as you stand in wait. “I mean, I think I’m just a little confused. We’ve seen each other for like, two weeks now. I feel like it’s always me who initiates—but tonight you did a little bit more of that. And… I guess we’ve only kissed—Am I bad kisser? Steve? Am I?”

You’re full of rambling, nervous energy but you try your best to play it off. It was such an awkward thing to say out loud, and there was no way you could come out and spit: Why have we not had sex yet?

Steve surges forward and takes your hand in his, “No!” His head his shaking wildly, “You’re a great kisser! The best!”

His blabbering catches you off-guard and the snort of laughter that comes from you is anything but attractive. “Jesus, Steven, that’s too much.”

Steve slaps his palm to his forehead. “Ah… I’m sorry. I think I’m just nervous.”

“About what?” You ask, leaning forward and looking up at him, “Steve, I just… snorted. You can’t be nervous about this. I should be the one who’s nervous! Look at you!”

He takes a step back and puts one hand on his hip, the other reaching forward to signal to you. “Look at me? Look at you!” He gawks.

The two of you stand there, pointing at each other, making scoffing noises of disbelief for a good two minutes before you put up your hand. “Okay. Pause, mister. You look like someone Photoshopped a rugged Ken Doll and then 3-D printed it. Westworld-style. You bake, you paint, you’re a ceramic---ist? Ceramicist? What! Steve!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “Come on! Your fuckin’ arms!”

He rolls his eyes, “I’m thirty-five and divorced. I sleep four hours a night. I’m a walking disaster.” Then he narrows his eyes at you.

“You’re gorgeous! You’re funny, you’re kind, you’re so sweet…! You’re honest?” He ticks off each adjective using his fingers, “You’re patient? God, Sarah throws half a tantrum and my world collapses. You’re dedicated. You’re---“

“Okay. Stop.” You mutter, cheeks burning hot, “I sleep on the couch next to a bottle of wine and have three pieces of furniture. We’re both disasters.”

Steve laughs and steps forward again, putting his hand over yours. “I just… didn’t want to mess anything up.” He whispers, “I like you so much… and… if we’re… talking about that. I haven’t… been with anyone in … two years. Other than you, I’ve only kissed one person my entire life… So, the question is—am I a bad kisser?”

You giggle as he gives you an apologetic smirk, shaking his head at the way you two have been aggressively complimenting each other. Standing on your tiptoes, you move to nuzzle your nose against his. “You’re a great kisser, Steve. The best.”

Darkness flutters over his eyes briefly before Steve expertly dodges your nose and catches your mouth with his instead. With a half-whimper, half-moan, Steve Rogers grabs the back of your neck in one large, warm hand and your lower back with the other and presses your body flush against his.

Oh.

He’s so tall he has to bend over and you’re so small against him that he’s nearly picking you up. A brief parting of your lips give you a moment to catch your breath, but he’s back again, tongue sliding against yours sweetly, as if asking a silent question.

Is this okay?

With a sigh of pleasure, you ask him to continue in the same, secret language. Your chest his burning hot, tummy quivering with nerves and delight as his hands roam your body. Firm. Strong. Almost desperate. Your own hands rest against his chest before one reaches up and cups his face, trailing your fingertips through his beard.

“D-does it bother you?” He mutters against your mouth before he slides down past your jaw and lands his lips on your neck, “My beard?”

“Mmm—no—” you’re breathless as he kneads his fingers into your waist, moving up to position them just below your breasts, “I like it—mmm-- lots.” You sigh, as his scruff tickles your shoulder, sending tingles all over your body. “I’d like to feel it… elsewhere, too.”

He freezes and pulls away. His hands place you back down on your feet-- back to Earth-- as he swallows hard, looking at you with open, red lips. Steve rolls the bottom one between his teeth and clenches his jaw, eyes half-lidded and lustful. You’re probably a wreck, too, you think as you catch yourself against a table.

“Can we---”

You cut him off. Your purse is already in your hands, keys swinging around your finger.

“God. Yes. I’ll follow you.”

Steve tugs you from the driver’s seat of your car, hand entwined with yours as he leads you up the walkway and over the step. Once the front door shuts behind him and he’s made sure it’s locked, you’re pressed up against the wall, purse, shoes, keys, clattering onto the hardwood.

“Oh, honey,” he mumbles as he presses his face into your collar, scooping you up into his arms. “Oh, Jesus, sweetheart.”

You’re glad he knows how to navigate his house with his eyes closed because the whole way there, you can’t stop kissing him. Your hands tug his hair and your teeth pinch his bottom lip. Steve responds by growling softly, biting you back, squeezing your thighs before slowly easing you onto his bed.

It’s dark in his room, but you feel the bed dip as he climbs on too. Both your eyes are trying to adjust—trying to find each other. Your hands fumble around until you catch him, his knee. His hands find your stomach. Slowly, he reaches for the hem of your shirt and peels it up over your head. Then he does the same to his own shirt and both of you shimmy out of your pants.

He is hard and hot when your bare skin touches his. Steve lies down on his side to face you, panting slightly as you glide your hand up and down his arm. Oh fuck, it’s been two years and the first man you touch is more like a mythical creature than any man. It should be illegal for someone to feel this good.

Trembling, you touch the hard planes of his torso, the ridges in his abdomen, the swell of his chest taking hard breaths. You shut your eyes and imagine the way he looks right now—breathless and wild. His knee parts your legs easily and one hand descends to feel your center, saturating your underwear.

“Jesus, baby,” Steve sighs into your neck. “You’re makin’ me crazy. This--” He begins to slide his digits up and down, getting the slippery wetness all over his fingers, “Already...”

A shudder rolls through your body upon hearing his words and you arch into his touch, moaning when he rubs your clit in perfect pulsing circles. He moves forward, kissing the tops of your breasts through your bra, nipping at the soft flesh spilling from the cups.

“Steve, you’ll make me come.” You admit, a little shyly even as your hips rock consciously into his hand. You paw at his arms, squeezing the ridges of thick muscles.

The mischievous chuckle that pours from his throat vibrates against your chest. Steve grabs onto your thigh and eases your leg over his hips inching closer and straightening himself until you’re aligned perfectly. He tilts back and guides you against him until your center slides against his bulge.

Just as you find the elastic of his waistband, he jerks away and places himself in-between your legs as he moves you onto your back. You scoot until your head hits the wall, propping yourself up on your elbows, giving him more room at the foot of the bed.

“You wanted to feel this?” Steve caresses your thighs with his cheek, the hairs on his beard tickling your sensitive skin. Your toes curl up reflexively as he moves back and forth, trailing his lips and face all over.

You squeal when the tip of his nose touches your mound, mouth hovering over your soaked panties. His mouth latches on, almost in a bite before he takes them off. Both his hands slide beneath your bottom, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before he pulls your hips forward. You land on his face, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

“Steve,” You gasp, “This is unfair.” Your body jerks with every teasing kiss he presses to your folds. His breath comes out in a smug puff of air that purposefully continues to drive you unbelievably closer to what feels like breaking entirely.

“Baby…” he mutters—right into your cunt, Jesus! You groan at the way his face is nestled there. “Baby---mm— It’s been two years for me.” He whispers, “If I don’t get you off now, in a really good way—it’s not gonna be good at all.”

“Steve—you know—ah! It’s been the same amount of time for me too, right?!”

He ignores you, crawling his hands around onto your hips to keep you from squirming. When you settle finally, he moves one hand to your center, sliding a finger up and down your slippery folds. His mouth latches onto your clit as his finger continues their trail. You fist his hair with both hands at the same time he slips a digit inside.

But he doesn’t move. Other than his tongue’s soft licks on your swollen clit, Steve doesn’t move at all. He happily lets his finger rest inside of you, gathering your juices all over his hand.

You whimper, trying to shimmy against them, anything to create more contact. Its intrusion builds a terrible itch inside of your body, and goddamn it, you want to scratch.

It feels like an eternity passes before he finally lets you have another—adding one more thick finger inside, stretching you as he moves them both around, curling them, pumping them in and out. He sucks enthusiastically on your sensitive bud, fucks you with two fingers almost wildly, and your body responds with fervor. You gasp and moan, arching your back into his hand and face, goosebumps blooming all over your shoulders and down your arms and legs.

“C’mon, that’s it. Thassa good girl. You’re so close. Almost there… Good girl… Good girl.”

With a cry, you come undone, rolling your hips every which way as you reach orgasm on Steve’s hand. His voice continues to praise you, lips kissing your sweat-slicked thighs, beard tickling your sensitive skin.

Instead of pulling away, Steve continues to stroke you with his fingers, slowly prodding at your entrance with a third.

“Just trying to get you ready.” He murmurs, and your heart stills. Ready?

You voice your concern, “What do you mean?”

With a slight chuckle, he sits up, wiping his mouth and parts of his beard with the back of his hand. In the dark, Steve reaches for your arm, guiding you to feel exactly what he’s talking about. A strangled cry escapes your throat as you wrap your fingers around his cock. Hot. Throbbing. Big.

Sweet, sensitive, divorced, baker, artist, ceramicist, father Steve fuckin’ Rogers was packing. And it isn’t until you nervously grip him in both hands do you realize the importance of his last statement.

“Can I get you ready, baby?” He asks again.

For the millionth time that night, your eyes roll back and get lost in your head as you lean against the headboard with a whimper. Steve crawls over on top of you, scoops you up once again in his arms, and places you on his lap. Your legs wrap around his back loosely as he holds you still, previous two fingers pushing inside gently.

You rest your head on his shoulder as your body shakes under his ministrations, already tired and overstimulated. Your hands find their way to grip him, massaging his length tenderly, savoring the temperature of his body, spreading the beaded precum at the tip of his cock up and down his shaft. Steve groans, scissoring his fingers inside of you, spreading your walls.

The third finger meets resistance as you tense up.

“S-sorry,” You whisper, “I’m… I’m pretty nervous…” But you move his hand back and try again. He’s so tender and sweet with you as he turns his head to place kisses on your cheek and ear. It’s a few minutes of this exploration before you feel brave enough to shift and stroke him with determination. Steve takes the message as a confirmation and reaches into the end table for a condom.

It’s slipped on and you follow suit, gasping as Steve guides your hips with one hand, and grips himself with the other. Slowly, he fills you inch by inch until he’s so deep inside you think he could emerge from your throat.

“Oh… my… God!” You cry. There aren’t enough words to describe it— the sweetest sting, an all-encompassing and chilling burn, a mystifying and utter fullness that nearly brings tears to your eyes. You’re afraid to move, to lose this sensation, and afraid to feel what comes next. But you know that you want it.

Steve kisses your lips tenderly, babbling praise, whispering affirmations, soothing the shock that surges up your spine with his warm palm. Slowly, he rocks you back, holding onto your body with one hand, smoothing the hair that falls over your face with the other.

You’re gripping him so tightly it takes some effort to slide even an inch of him out— and there’s many inches of him. Sweat collects on your brow as you grind, dragging against his length, forcing shudders to course all over both your bodies. “Is this okay?” you mutter, delirious, “Steve? You feel so good.”

He flexes within you, grunts into your ear. A dry chuckle escapes him as his hand squeezes your back just a little too hard. He’s holding back, trying to prolong your pleasure, but his own is chasing him down, only a few steps away from pouncing.

You coax it towards him with faster snapping of your hips against his, clawing at his back, nibbling on his ear. “Come on, my love… just a little more.”

With a grunt and a shudder, and a hard kiss to your lips that makes your teeth clack against each other, Steve thrusts one last time as deeply as possible, riding out his orgasm as he pulls your hips against his. The two of you feel welded together, sticky with sweat and so tightly flushed that you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. You body slumps as you drape your arms over his neck. Steve turns his head to kiss your shoulder before making the effort to pull away and clean himself up. He goes into the bathroom first, lying you down and covering you with the blanket.

When he returns, Steve finds you already dozed off. You palm rests under your cheek as you lie on your side, breathing deeply.

As quietly as he can, he squeezes in beside you, fitting himself against your back. He’s read it somewhere, that falling in love was a little bit like falling asleep. As his eyes slip shut, he feels it happening, just like that quote had said: slowly at first, then… all at once.

In the darkness behind his lids, there is strangely so much light.

Next Chapter

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fanfiction #marvel #mcu #self insert #slow like honey heli0s

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iamvegorott · 5 years

Note

Can I request some Trickshot? I feel like we haven't had enough whump where Marvin’s gets hurt or is in danger so I would very much want that lskdlsks Also can I get added to the tag list for Trickshot? (I really adore those two idiots, they're the best!)

Wanna help me and give me some support for more works?|Donate To My PayPal|

Angel With A Shotgun

“Chase? Chase, I need to get up.” Marvin said to his sleeping…boyfriend? Were they boyfriends? They messed around and kissed and held hands but they never actually said the words. Did they have to? What made it official?

“No.” Chase groaned in protest, hugging Marvin tighter to his chest.

“Chase, I need to run some errands.” Marvin tried to wiggle away.

“Can wait.” Chase nuzzled his face into Marvin’s hair.

“I have appointments.” Marvin rolled himself so he was now sitting on top of Chase, managing to wake Chase up a bit since it’s hard to sleep with a mostly naked man sitting in your lap.

“You sure you can’t stay, just for a bit?” Chase placed a hand on one of Marvin’s plush thighs.

“I won’t be gone long.” Marvin picked the hand up and pressed a kiss to Chase’s knuckles. “Get some more sleep and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“How can I sleep without you?” Chase said with a little smile and Marvin leaned down to press their lips together for a second.

“You’ll figure it out.” He said before getting off of the bed.

Marvin dressed in one of the spare outfits he’s kept in Chase’s room and stepped out. He gave a quick wave to JJ, helped Robbie tie his shoes, told Henrik he was heading out, took a package from Jackie and stopped when he opened the door and was greeted by Anti. Anti was holding his shoes, his hair was a mess and the collar of his shirt was stretched out, showing that the dark marks on his neck went down all the way.

“I thought it was earlier.” Anti cleared his throat.

“I thought you two were fighting?” Marvin asked.

“It’s complicated now.”

“Do the others know?”

“No…”

“Here.” Marvin snapped his fingers and Anti was magically cleaned up. “Put your shoes on, make sure Chase gets to sleep in and I’ll call us even.” Anti just nodded as his form of thanks and slipped past Marvin to get into the house. “What would they do without me?” Marvin chuckled to himself and headed out.

Going to the post office was easy enough, it was more boring than difficult but it was Marvin’s turn and he had to do it today in order for everything to get where it needed to on time. He needed to get Henrik and JJ into emails for most of this stuff. No one sends letters anymore.

Marvin went into a flower shop next, but he wasn’t looking for any roses or daises.

“How may I help you?” The woman behind the desk asked.

“I’m here for some eyes of newt and lizard tails,” Marvin said with a sly smirk and the woman only nodded her head.

“Right this way, sir.” She said and guided Marvin to the back area of the store, stepping through a doorway that could send a shiver down a normal man’s back but Marvin knew that feeling all too well to react. “Mr. Mason will be right with you.” The woman said and walked away before Marvin could thank her, another thing that he was used to, but he still felt the need to.

“I heard that our favorite kitty-cat is here?” A man giggled as he came in from a different room.

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” Marvin stated, his friendly aura dropping.

“I’ve told you I’d stop the day you quit wearing that mask of yours.” Mr. Mason said, heading over to the desk and gesturing for Marvin to sit in the chair in front of it. Marvin shook his head in refusal.

“I’m just here for my ingredients, I have someone waiting for me,” Marvin said.

“Is it a special someone?” Mr. Mason asked with a hum.

“That doesn’t concern you. What should concern you is getting me my ingredients.”

“Well, there seems to be a problem with that.” Mr. Mason leaned back in his chair.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s about your payment.”

“My payment?” The hair on the back of Marvin’s neck went up, they weren’t alone anymore, he could feel it.

“It’s short.”

“Short? I pay the same amount every time for the same ingredients. I didn’t order anything special.” Marvin took a step back towards the door and felt himself hit something that wasn’t wooden.

“Those ingredients are starting to get a little harder to obtain. The competition is getting stronger while we’re the same. We need an upper hand on them.”

“Fine, take what I have, keep what I’ve ordered.” Marvin took out his wallet and took out what little cash he had, tossing it on the ground. “I’m leaving.” Marvin gritted his teeth when he felt hands grabbing him by the upper arms.

“About that.” Mr. Mason chuckled. “We’re getting an upper hand by having an actual witch in our company, someone who knows how to work what we’re getting. You are no amateur, you’re no hobbyist, you’re the real deal, cat.”

“I’m giving you one warning to let me go,” Marvin said, clenching his hands and lifting his lip into a snarl.

“Don’t make me get a spray bottle.” Mr. Mason laughed.

“I warned you.” Marvin’s eyes went green and soon did his arms. The man that had been holding him shouted out in pain and released him.

“He burned my hands!” The man cried. Marvin ducked away from the second man in the room and held both hands out, blasting the two with a wave of energy. He made it to the door and opened it, running back to the store’s front.

“Stop him!” Mr. Mason called out. Marvin looked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed, not realizing it was a mistake until he felt something hot go through his leg, forcing him to scream and fall over in pain.

“Bad cat.” Marvin heard the desk worker say as he held his bleeding thigh. Marvin could only try to even his breathing, looking up and making eye contact with the barrel end of a shotgun. “Don’t move.” The woman ordered. Marvin shifted his glance up and bared his teeth while he slowly raised to his feet. “I’m warning you!” The woman shouted. “I will shoot again!”

“I dare you.” Marvin spat, eyes going wide in shock when the woman was tackled. “Chase!”

“I got it!” Chase grabbed the shotgun with both hands and yanked it out of the woman’s grasp, using the handle to hit her in the head, knocking her out.

“Chase, get out of here!” Marvin heard that more people were coming and didn’t have time to move before being grabbed once more, this time by both men.

“Let me guess, this is Mr. Special?” Mr. Mason teased.

“Let him go!” Chase demanded, aiming the shotgun at Mr. Mason.

“Do you even know how to use that, kid?” Mr. Mason scoffed, face dropping when Chase pumped the gun and stood his ground, eyes hardening. “Two can play at that game.” Mr. Mason pulled a pistol out from under his jacket and pressed the barrel to Marvin’s temple.

“Chase, run, please. It’ll be okay, I’ll be okay.” Marvin was shaking in pain, the hole in his leg aching as he tried to keep as much weight off of it as he could.

“I’m not leaving you,” Chase said, taking a step forward, Mr. Mason’s gun now moving so it was pointing at him.

“Watch it, kid.” Mr. Mason warned. “We just want the cat.”

“They’ll kill you,” Marvin said.

“I don’t care.” Chase took the sunglasses that were sitting on his hat and put them on. There was a short pause before Chase suddenly aimed up and shot out the light to the shop, sending glass to rain down on them. Chase rushed forward and bashed Mr. Mason’s head in the same way that he had done to the woman. He quickly fired the shotgun and got one of the men the leg and threw the weapon at the other man’s face. Chase slid on his knees, grabbing the pistol with one hand and catching Marvin with his other arm. The other man held his bleeding nose and cried out when his leg was shot. “Karma’s a bitch.”

“Chase?” Marvin kissed Chase on the check. “My hero.” He added with a chuckle.

“I just wanted to surprise you and take you out to lunch.” Chase weakly laughed. “But I think a trip to the hospital is more fitting.”

“Just get me home, I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep.” Marvin grunted in pain when Chase moved him so he was being held bridal style.

“I’m not letting my boyfriend bleed out,” Chase stated.

“Boyfriend?” Marvin couldn’t help the little smile forming on his lips.

“I mean, y-yeah.” Chase’s face flushed a little as sirens started to go off in the distance.

“We should go, there’s some…not so legal stuff happening in the back,” Marvin said.

“There’s some what?” Chase made some sounds of shock before grunting. “Damn it, Marv.” Chase cursed and rushed over to the side door. “You owe me an explanation when you’re better.” He said as he started to run, thankful that the Septiceye House was only a few blocks away.

—————

Tag List: @succos-tacos @readeatfightlove13@burningpeachdelusionofchaos @sketchy-scribs-n-doods@blueyeswhitedragon16@estraevelyn@virge-of-death@superdltpurplerage@i-am-not-anon@pixelenchanter@sirkawaiipotato@little-frying-pan@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

#humblecacti #trickshot #had this in my inbox for a bit #bad ass brody to the rescue #you can take thick tighed Marvin from my cold dead hands

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yangholic · 5 years

Text

Peephole | Two

word count: 2,016

warnings: emetophobia

You woke up with a pounding headache, feeling extremely disoriented. Your forehead was haphazardly rested on the porcelain rim of the toilet. Your throat and lips were dry, and an acrid taste lingered in your mouth. Despite the temporary pain your body was in, your mind still remembered. It remembered your next-door neighbor brutally slicing a man’s throat with a box cutter. All the blood. The callous smile. His eyes. Another wave of nausea rushed over you, but the only thing left for your stomach to upheave was bile. After spitting the sour contents into the toilet, you came to the sobering realization that you were living next to a murderer.

You scoured the cramped bathroom for any signs of your phone, before spotting the device on the floor where you usually sat by the peephole. Crawling over to your cell phone, you clicked the slumber button and noted the time: 9:01. Only a little bit over an hour had passed, so your neighbor was most likely still trying to clean up his mess which meant that you could make a run for it. Grabbing your cell phone and some shoes, you threw the door to your apartment open. If you sprinted to the nearby police station quick enough, maybe they could catch your neighbor in the act and no one else would have to die.

As you stumbled out of the doorway, legs still dizzyingly weak from losing the contents of your stomach, you collided with a wall of flesh. “Whoa, careful there,” the gentle voice chuckled as a hand clasped on your shoulder. “You don’t look so good, are you alright?” You found your footing and prepared to apologize for bumping into the stranger until you looked up.

It was him, the Boy Next Door. His chocolate eyes swelled with concern, while his lips were pursed in a slight pout. His blonde hair and honeyed skin, which you expected to be stained pink, looked the same as it always did. If you hadn’t been witness to his ice-cold demeanor earlier, you would have sworn your neighbor looked concerned. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled, eyes quickly averting to the floor. It hurt to look at him— it hurt to recall the sense of comfort he brought you on your loneliest of days. “You look like you could use a good meal,” he paused momentarily to study your slightly emaciated frame before adding, “Or maybe two.” Laughter rolled off his tongue so easily, and God was it the cutest thing you’d ever heard. His giggle was like a stone bouncing across a glassy lake, creating ripples of mirth where there had been none. Before you could put some distance between the two of you, your neighbor nudged you towards the apartment labeled ‘Lee 301’.

“C’mon, let me get you something to eat.” Your feet remained planted on the spot, refusing to follow him into his murder den. Despite the loud rumbling of your stomach, you meekly rejected his offer, “I said I’m fine.” Your neighbor let out another chuckle, albeit this one more awkward and understanding. “I know it probably sounds sketchy for the neighbor you’ve never met to offer you dinner,” he playfully raised his hands in a defensive manner, “but I swear I’m a gentleman. No funny business here.” You almost cracked a smiled at his ironic comment— the words that would once have made your heart do a backflip now seemed so empty. Your neighbor would probably hack you to bits the second you walked through the doorway, thus negating his gentlemanly spiel. “I uh,” you began, trying to formulate an excuse as to why you didn’t want to go over. “Lee Jimin,” your Angel— no, Jimin— said with his hand outstretched. Your eyes darted between his delicate hand, the one you’ve seen cook, masturbate and even kill, and the abyss in his eyes. At that moment, two thoughts crossed your mind.

One: you could run away screaming towards the police station, but based on Jimin’s size, as well as your weakened state, he would easily capture you. Two: you could participate in his charade by acting polite, but sneak away at the first opportunity. You chose the latter, for once putting some value into your meaningless life. If you were to die, you wouldn’t want it to be in the hands of some killer.

“L/N F/N,” you replied just a beat later, your hand settling in his. Jimin’s smooth, uncalloused skin was just as soft as you had imagined. His fingers tightened around the flesh of your palm as he tugged you towards his apartment. “Now that we’re acquainted, I don’t think it’ll be weird to have you over for dinner!” Jimin sounded so chipper, so god damn normal. But you knew what he was, you had seen what he was, and there was no way in hell he could fool you.

As Jimin unlocked his door, you steeled yourself for the impending smell of iron, the sight of a mutilated corpse in his room. Would you be his second victim of the evening? Instead, you were greeted by a pristine apartment, no trace of a body or blood anywhere. “Here, you can wear my slippers,” Jimin said as he handed you a pair of blue house shoes. You shucked your ratty sneakers off and put his slippers on, still in awe at the current condition of his apartment. Roughly an hour and a half had passed when you blacked out so it would be almost impossible for someone to clean up a mess of that size. Plus, Jimin lived in a small one bed one bath, there was no way he could hide a body without it being noticed.

You settled in at his coffee table, knees tucked in under yourself as you patiently waited for Jimin. He was shuffling about in the kitchen, taking out various Tupperware containers. “I hope you don’t mind tteokbokki,” he said as he began to boil the broth. “I love to cook, but I only do so for myself, but it feels nice to do this for someone else.” You made a noncommittal grunt that was barely audible. Jimin began to quietly sing to himself as he brought the broth to a boil. His voice was angelic— in all honesty, Jimin could probably be an idol with his looks and talent. You glanced around his room and noticed a bookcase full of novels and collectible figures. Nestled between the bookcase and the small closet was a crack in the wall. Thankfully, it looked more like a blemish instead of a hole, which must have been the reason why he never noticed your spying.

“You know, I’ve been living here for 4 months and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around,” Jimin leaned on the kitchen counter, his elbow resting in the marble surface while his chin was cushioned in his palm. There was a flicker of interest in his eyes as he bore into you, “Tell me about yourself, Y/N.” You smiled nervously, although it looked like much more like a grimace. “Uhh… I don’t um, really,” words fumbled out of your mouth, partially due to the fear of him stabbing you if you didn’t respond, “I don’t really leave my place that often.” At that admission, Jimin’s eyebrow quirked curiously. “So you’re a shut-in?” You nodded at his brutally honest comment, feeling a bit embarrassed under his scrutiny. Jimin must have noticed your discomfort and did his best to rectify the situation, “I didn’t mean that in a bad way in the slightest. In fact, I’m proud that you came over today, that proves you’re slowly becoming more social.” Jimin smiled proudly, his pearly white teeth peeking out from behind his lips.

The dazzling grin contradicted the sadistic one you saw just a few hours earlier through the hole in the wall. There was no way Jimin was a killer. His apartment was clean, he wasn’t acting obvious, and when he smiled, it was as it his whole soul smiled. You had read somewhere that psychopaths were unable to imitate true smiles because their eyes never displayed the same happiness their mouths did. But when Lee Jimin smiled, he smiled.

The kitchen timer went off, and Jimin plated up your meal and set it on the table before settling down in front of you. You stared at the stir-fried rice cakes, the reddish hue reminding you of freshly spilled blood. After a painful moment of awkward silence, Jimin gasped slightly and scrambled back to the kitchen to procure a pair of chopsticks. “Sorry about that, I forgot I only had one set!” He handed you the eating utensils and watched you carefully, almost as if he were judging your reaction. Not wanting to blow your cover, you thanked him quietly, which garnered a wide grin on his behalf.

After one bite of the tteokbokki and you instantly felt yourself melt. The rice cake was tender, but not mushy, and the spices created a tangy flavor that wasn’t unbearably spicy. Since your meals consisted of nothing but cup ramen and convenience store food, you knew nothing was better than a home-cooked meal. Well, except for Lee Jimin’s home cooked meals. “Wow! This is so good!” The blonde man perked up, “Really?” After unashamedly shoveling two more bites into your mouth, you continued to praise his culinary skills. “I haven’t had home cooked meal in a long time, but seriously, it’s really tasty!” Jimin’s brilliant smile returned, his eyes cresting into little half-moons. “It makes me happy to hear you say that. I really do love making people happy, even if it’s with simple things like cooking,” he began, a nostalgic look sweeping across his fine features. “Living alone… Cooking for one… It’s always so lonely, you know?”

You related with Jimin’s loneliness, but the fact of the matter is that watching him made you feel less alone. He was the anchor in your life, the one thing that kept you from stepping into another hangman’s noose. But despite how kind and friendly Lee Jimin was, you shouldn’t shake the undeniable fact that he was a cold-blooded killer. You were almost convinced that what you had seen earlier was just a hallucination, but there was only space left that had not been explored: the bathroom. You looked at the blonde man across from you, “Jimin, can I use your restroom?”

Jimin’s facade never faltered, “Sure, our apartment layouts are the same so you should know where it is! While you’re in there, I’ll box up the leftovers for you to take home.” You nodded and made your way to the door on the right, expecting to see blood from floor to ceiling. But much to your surprise, it was just a regular bathroom. Appearances could be deceiving, though.

You cautiously approached the bathtub, unaware of the mutilated corpse that lay obscured by the shower curtain. Both fear and anticipation had you stunned— what if you did find a body? Then what? Was it possible for you act like you hadn’t seen anything? After standing in front of the porcelain tub for what felt like years, your hand dropped from the shower curtain and returned to your side. A light knock on the door startled you, and Jimin’s sugary voice wafted through the wooden barrier.

“Y/N? Are you okay in there?” Although he had no reason to preemptively attack you, Jimin’s right hand clutched a box cutter hidden in the waistband of his jeans. The young man knew you were probably too polite to snoop around, but still, he could never risk a liability. “Y-Yeah,” you responded, and he instantly relaxed his grip on the weapon. “Almost done!”

You convinced yourself what you had seen was just a hallucination induced by improper sleep and lack of nutrition. Or maybe the delusion was caused by low blood sugar or an undiagnosed mental illness. Yes, it was definitely those things. Lee Jimin was innocent. He was kind, considerate, and the only ray of Hope in your life.

This was Love.

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#jimin yandere #park jimin yandere #park jimin scenario #bts horror #bts yandere #bts yandere imagines #bts serial killer au #bts serial killer #jimin serial killer au #jimin serial killer #jimin x reader #bts reader insert

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embracehappy · 6 years

Text

Take a Day Off | Shawn Mendes Imagine

a/n: So I wrote this about 2 months ago, roughly based in reflection of an event that had happened another 3 months before then, my first panic attack. You might be able to tell by the insane amount of RANDOM details that this wasn’t really intended to be shared. But for some reason I feel very compelled to share it. That night, all I wanted to do was text a friend and ask for help. But I didn’t. Anxious thoughts and fear winning. I was so afraid, it took me along time to open up to anyone about this, and I didn’t start getting better until I did. So, have this little thing. It helped me feel better 2 months ago when I wrote it, and the end still makes me smile now. That’s why I’m sharing it, if it can help just one person, then I’ve done well. I wish that I would have just told someone what I was going through and sought out help, that way someone could have told me what Shawn tell’s Y/N, instead of me taking months to come to that conclusion myself. SO: If you’re going through something, anything, and don’t know who to reach out to, please know that my inbox/chat messaging is always open for you 💖

p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica}

Warnings: EXTREME TRIGGER WARNING!! PANIC ATTACK!!! I marked the VERY sketchy stuff with *********s. SO it is possible to read around the possibly triggering material and just read the set up and the fluff/message at the end. If you want to avoid ALL possibly triggering material, just skip to the end and start at the second “Y/N’s POV.”

word count: 2035

Y/N’s POV:

It was even finals yet. You still had another month to go. You’re wrapped up in a blanket surrounded by your textbooks. As you sit at your desk, you can’t help but notice that your watch reads 3am.

You’ve been trying to do this Latin homework for 5 hours. It’s only supposed to take about 2 hours.

For some reason you just weren’t in the mood to read Horace’s poetry. No matter how much you stared at the paper, you were still only 5 lines into a 25 line poem.

Your class is at 9am and you know that your Professor is going to kill you if you come into class without your homework done again.

It’s just one of the downfalls of going to a small, private, liberal arts college. Your 9am Latin class only has four students in it. And they ALL stare at you every time you walked into class tired.

You have been consistently getting only about five hours of sleep every night, if you even sleep. But, you can’t help it. Ever since you had caught that really bad flu in February, you haven’t had any motivation.

But tonight was different. You just didn’t feel “right” in any sense. You had already called your boyfriend twice.

Once, when you started your homework at 10pm, and then again at midnight. Both times a groggy Shawn lifted his head off his pillow and squinted into the screen.

The first time you called, he perked up and turned the light on. He did his best to motivate you.

He is usually was always successful at this. He would ask you questions like: “Tell me again why you love Classics” and you’d smile and go into long explanations about linguistics and philology. Then he’d give you that cute grin of his and say “well, go show that to your professor” as he hung up.

But tonight. Tonight it didn’t work. You had no motivation to do anything but sit.

You called him again at midnight. He was less responsive. He was barely able to keep his eyes open. You didn’t mind. You enjoyed just looking at him and watching him fall in and out of sleep. He had the cutest sleeping face, when all his muscles relaxed and his mouth hung open just a smidge.

It had been 3 hours since you talked to Shawn. It’s not that you were clingy, but tonight you just really needed your boyfriend. He’s 45 minutes away though, in his apartment building on his own campus. Shawn goes to the state school nearby. Today, he had a big day with a formal presentation in his business class. He had stayed up the entire previous night trying to prepare for it. You know he is stressed and really don’t want to add to the pressure that’s already on him. This semester has just been so draining for you though.

You catch yourself staring off into nothing, lost in thought again. You blink three times and then look down at your paper.

**************************************

You can feel your chest tightening. But you try to ignore it. You get another half line done.

Suddenly, when you go to take a deep breathe, you can’t. Your breathing becomes quick and shallow. You feel like the walls are caving in around you. Your mind is racing. However, you don’t know what it’s racing about, it just is. You can’t think clearly. Your vision gets fuzzy and you are now seeing spots.

You are scared.

You have this burning desire to get away from your desk. You try to stand up, grabbing your phone off your desk, only to immediately sink onto the floor. You crawl across your bedroom, with your blanket still wrapped around you.

You finally give up trying to move once you are next to your radiator. As you lay there on your floor, in the fetal position, wrapped in your blanket, all you want to do is cry.

You feel the warmth coming off of the radiator and you try to wiggle closer to it, craving its comfort. Tears are gently streaming down your face now.

You aren’t sure why you’re crying. But you are.

You feel hopeless.

In a brief moment of clarity, you have the only thought that has seemed coherent in the last 30 minutes. You text your boyfriend.

To: Mine <3: help me.

To: Mine <3: please.

You know he’s probably sleeping and won’t see your texts till morning. But you feel a little better, despite the fact that you are still silently sobbing to yourself on the floor.

You don’t know how long it’s been, but you haven’t received a message back from Shawn.

Focusing on trying to take study breathes, you let yourself drift into sleep.

*******************************

__ Shawn’s POV:

You feel your phone buzz against the mattress. You really don’t want to check it. It’s probably just Y/N saying she finished her homework. You roll over ignoring the text. It’s been about a half hour. But, no matter how hard you to try to relax, you just can’t sleep. Something is nagging at you.

You decide to check your phone.

From: Baby <3: help me.

From: Baby <3: please.

You laugh to yourself. Y/N knows that you don’t know anything about Latin. There is no way that you can help her with her homework.

You reply.

To: Baby <3: lol wish I could baby. I definitely don’t know anything about Latin. Sorry xx

You wait for a reply. Usually when you text her while she’s doing homework she replies quickly, excited for any form of distraction.

No reply. You wait 10 minutes.

To: Baby <3: Hey, you ok? Did you get it done?

Waiting another 15 minutes and still no reply.

This isn’t like Y/N. You try to tell yourself that it’s fine.

Y/N probably just turned her phone off in an attempt to focus. Or maybe she fell asleep?

But no matter how hard you try, you just can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

Climbing out of bed you begin looking for a shirt and your car keys.

Your apartment is a good 45 minutes away from her college, but you don’t care. You need to see her, make sure she’s alright.

Throwing the car into park, you notice that you did the drive in only a half hour.

You were really lucky. Someone was exiting her dorm building right as you got to the door. So, you just slipped inside when the door was open, no need to call up.

You are now running up the stairs and down the halls. You can finally see her door come into view. You stop right outside, not sure if you should knock or not.

You know that if she’s in her room it’ll unlocked, but out of curtesy you should probably give her warning.

You decide on a really soft knock, just enough to alert anyone inside that you are there.

You try the knob and it’s unlocked. You then peek your head into the room. And then you see her.

Her small frame curled even smaller into a little ball on her floor. She was wrapped in a blanket but you can see that she is shaking.

Slowly, you enter the room, shutting the door behind you. You try whispering her name. But she does not respond.

You can hear silent whimpers coming from her mouth. As you get closer you see that she is asleep, crying in her sleep.

“oh baby” you coo.

You follow you instinct and reach down to her, resting your big hand on her thin back. She immediately stops whimpering.

You lay down next to her, basically spooning her. You wrap your arms around her blanketed body and pull her tightly into your chest.

She is still shaking, but at least now she is no longer crying.

__ Y/N’s POV:

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

Your alarm is going off.

You open your eyes and you see that your face is almost touching your radiator. Shawn is there, holding you tight.

You had heard him whisper your name when he came into your room last night. You thought it was a dream.

When you felt the strength of his hand against your back, you realized that he was actually there. You still feel like you are crying, but at least now it isn’t as bad as before.

Last night, when you felt his arms wrap around your center and his warm body against your back, you were finally able to breath for the first time.

Now you’re on your floor, reaching for your phone. You feel Shawn nuzzle his face into your neck. His arms tightening.

You flip your body so that you face him.

His eyes flutter open and you can see the green flakes in his hazel eyes. His beautiful eyes are laced concerned.

“How are you?” He says.

“I’ve been better, ever since you got here”

“but, how are you? What happened?”

“I… I don’t know…” You feel your lungs beginning to clinch, almost making you short of breath again. “I was doing my homework and then I couldn’t breathe, or see, or think. And then I was on the floor.”

“Sounds… like you had a panic attack?” He croaks.

“I don’t know…” You say as you fail to meet his eyes. Your gaze dropping low

“Hey” Shawn says, gently touching your chin, lifting your face to his. Your eyes meet. “It’s okay. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I know it was probably really scary, but it’s over now, you have nothing to be afraid of.”

His eyes are soft and encouraging. You’re blinking back tears.

“I was so afraid, Shawn. I didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay. I know you were afraid. I’ve been there” He whispers to you.

“You’ve… You’ve- ?”

“Yeah, I had my first panic attack about 1 year ago, about 8 months before I met you.” He says looking off into the distance. “I was going through some stuff, dealing with some anxiety. It was a pretty dark time for me.”

“How did you get out of it?” you say, realizing that he said first panic attack, meaning that he has experienced others as well.

“Well, I met you. And you inspired me. You were fearless and unstoppable. That’s when I realized that I could be too. It wasn’t in my blood, the anxiety, I could overcome it… It also helps that I called my dad and told him what was going on.”

Shawn’s gaze had momentarily flicked away during his last sentence. But now, Shawn is looking at you with adoration in his eyes. You can feel the pride seething out of him.

You can’t help but give a weak smile up to him.

Shawn continues “mental health is a big thing. It’s important to make sure you’re okay. When was the last time you took a day off?”

“a day off from what?” you question. “There’s no such thing as a day off in school? That’s not how this works.”

You phone is going off again, alerting you that you have 20 minutes until your class starts.

Shawn reaches over and turns it off, handing the phone to you.

“email your professors and tell them what’s going on. Let them know that you won’t be in today, you’re taking a mental health day,”

You stare up at Shawn in simultaneous confusion and awe.

Is it really that easy?

You don’t argue, doing as he said. You know that you desperately need a day off, even if you have to skip your classes.

“done” you say looking back up to Shawn. “now what?”

“Now…” He says pulling you close to him. “we are going to move to your bed, so you can actually rest comfortably. And then after you’ve properly slept in, we’re going to order take out and watch movies all day. Maybe even take a bubble bath?”

“But I have homework...”

“It’s called a day off, Y/N. No homework allowed. Just focus on relaxing. We can deal with the world tomorrow. Today, our only task is helping you start to feel better.”

#shawn mendes #shawn #mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes fanfic #panic attack #anxiety #help #shawn mendes in my blood #this calms me down i hope its not too triggering im sorry if it is #embracehappy #takeadayoff

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fromstraykids · 6 years

Text

protect

characters: you x felix

summary: in which you unknowingly became infatuated with a mafia member

quote: “i’m new here”

7:34 pm – new apartment

Setting the final piece of furniture into place, you laid on the couch tired from all the work you spent that day moving into your new apartment. Sure, it was a bit of a drive to your university, but at least the apartment was cheap, right?

Your stomach growled loudly as you remembered that you hadn’t eaten since this morning. Deciding to go to the nearby supermarket, you grabbed your wallet and stepped out into the warm night.

The sun was setting down when you entered the supermarket and when you came out, it was completely dark outside with the exception of a few flickering street lights. Walking back to your apartment, you heard light footsteps behind you and turned around–and saw nothing. Turning back around, the footsteps were heard again as you fastened your pace. As they came closer near you, you felt another presence next to you.

“Hey! Long time no see!” a boy in a leather jacket greets you. You look at him confused, who was he? Then he whispers, “Play along, that guy’s been following you the entire time.”

Getting the message, you put on a smile on your face. “Wow, it’s been a while, how have you been?” You didn’t know why, but you decided to trust the boy in front of you. As you walk with him back to your apartment, he finally tells you his name.

“Felix,” he says as he waits for you to enter the building.

“I’m y/n,” you reply as you open the door. “I’ll see you soon? I’m guessing you live by here.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, soon. Bye, y/n.” He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket and walks down the steps.

9:20 pm – garage

Felix enters the parking garage and catches sight of Chan, immediately preparing himself for the scolding about his lateness.

“Where were you?”

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Did you get into a fight?”

“Chan, chill. There was this person–”

“Does Felix have a crush on them or something?” Jisung butts in and takes a seat on the hood of the car.

Felix sighs. “No, they’re new to this neighborhood and a member of W1 was following them, so I walked them back to their apartment,” he explains.

Chan’s face grew expressionless when he hears the name of their rival gang, W1. “Did you catch their face?”

“No.”

“Did they catch your face?”

“I mean, I hope not.” Chan sighs heavily.

“If they did, that person is probably a target now. Considering that W1 just loves to target everyone associated with our group.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Chill, Chan, I doubt that they saw us don’t worry.” However, Felix begins to feel slightly worried if the person did catch his face. He would just have to walk you back to your apartment every night, then, not that he was complaining about anything.

8:29 pm – apartment

“–and now I have to find another job because I got fired. Again,” you said as Felix falls into step with you.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find one soon, just keep looking,” Felix comforts, his mouth stretching into a reassuring smile.

“Thanks,” you say as you two enter the dimly lit hallway. “You’re probably the only nice person in this whole neighborhood.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What’d you mean?”

“I mean, you’re always walking me back home from the bus stop, even though you’re probably busy with your own life. And not to mention, this neighborhood is just a bit sketchy, you know? There are rumors of mafias here.”

“Mafias?”

“Yeah, mafias. So, having you walk me back at night is probably the nicest thing someone has ever done to me, I just don’t know how to pay you back.”

“You don’t have to, I mean, I like your presence, so don’t think that you’re burdening me,” Felix reassures.

“I know, but I don’t want to think that walking me back is a chore for you, you know–” Felix delicately tilts your chin up, making you look at him. His freckles illuminated in the dim light and you wondered what it was like to kiss his cheeks, maybe you would find out another day.

“Hey, it’s not a chore, you know what a chore is? Having to go out in the middle of the night to buy potato chips because my friends decided to start craving them, now that’s a chore,” he chuckles. You smile slightly. “So, don’t think that I forced to walk you home. I like walking you home, y/n.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Felix’s eyes flicker to your lips briefly before looking back up at you. “Fuck it,” he mutters under his breath and leans down, pressing his soft lips against yours.

Before he pulls away, you ended the kiss and hurriedly entered your apartment, muttering ‘sorry’ as you slam the door in his face. Felix stands before the closed door, shocked, and mutters, “Great job Felix, you fucked up. Like always.”

He walks away with a heavy sigh as you lean against the door, regretting your actions. “I ruined everything,” you sighed as you slid against the door, taking a seat on the wooden floor.

3:29 pm – a few days later

It was a couple days since the kiss and Felix hasn’t walked you back since, leaving you wondering when you would see him again. Sure, you could send him a quick text, but then what? It would be too awkward to talk to him.

Felix decided to go set things straight and walked to your apartment. As he walks, he glances at the cafe he was passing and stops in his tracks. He catches sight of you, but whoever was next to you shocked him even more. Without another thought, he enters the cafe loudly, making you look up at him as he walks over to you.

“Felix–” Before you could say anything else, he takes your wrist and leads you out of the cafe.

He leads you to an alley as you eyed him, curious and shocked. “What was that for?” you questioned.

Felix ruffles his hair. “Why were you with him?”

“He’s my friend,” you state, making the boy in front of you pinch his nose bridge.

“Listen, I’m all up with you having guy friends and all that shit, but stay away from him, he’s bad news, very bad news. Okay?” Felix looks at you with panicked eyes.

You scoffed. “Daehwi? Bad news? I bet you don’t even know the guy, he’s the nicest person ever. He wouldn’t even hurt a fly.”

Felix begins to pace, making you wonder if what he was saying was true. “What do you know? You’ve only been here for four months. That guy, Daehwi? He’s part of the fucking mafia, alright?”

“And how do you know that? How can I believe you?”

“Because I’m in one myself!” he yells, unknowingly revealing his secret to you.

“You’re in...a mafia?” your voice shakes as you ask the question, seeing him in a new light. Now everything made sense, why he was always bruised when he saw you, why he never talked to you about his job, why he was jumpy whenever a police car drove by, everything clicked.

“Now do you believe me?” Felix asks, looking at you once again with expectant eyes.

“No.” You shake your head as you leave his presence and returned back to the cafe. Felix kicks at the wall as he thinks up a plan, knowing that Daehwi would do something to you. Soon.

8:40 pm – end of night class

Exiting the bus, you looked around for Felix. Maybe he would be sitting on the bench, waiting for you with a drink or dessert in his hand. However, the bench was empty. No Felix, which meant you had to walk home alone.

You could do this without Felix, who said that you needed him? Walking onto the sidewalk, the number of people began to decline as you grew nearer towards your apartment building. Entering the dimly lit street, you immediately heard the sound of faint footsteps and began to pick up your pace. You hope that maybe Felix would just so happen to be walking your way, just like the first time you met him.

As you break into a run, a person grabs your hand and pushes you against the brick wall of the alley. “Nice seeing you here, y/n.” In the dim light, you make out the features of the person’s face. Daehwi.

“Daehwi, what are you doing here?” You asked shakily. He donned a black leather jacket and you could make out the stitching of ‘W1’ on the breast pocket. Felix was right.

“You know? I’ve had a hunch that you and loverboy were somewhat connected and today at the cafe just confirmed my suspicions.” He pulls out a small object. A gun. “So tell me, what are you doing for Stray Kids?”

“Nothing.” Your blood grew cold when you felt the cold metal tip touch your temple. Shakily, you say again, “Nothing.”

Daehwi smirks. “Really? Then how come loverboy is always so concerned for you, it like he’s in love with you? I wonder,” he chuckled menacingly, “I wonder what would happen if I killed his little crush.”

“Felix!” you yelled at the top of your lungs, hoping that someone would hear you.

“No one can hear you,” Daehwi states, clicking the gun.

Once again, you yelled, “Felix!”

“Should I hold you captive or should I kill you right here and now, either way, you’ll die.” You begin to fight out of his hold but failed. “Maybe I should just kill yo–”

As he finished his sentence, Daehwi is thrown to the ground. “Go near them again and I’ll kill you,” the person says as he lands a punch on Daehwi’s face. Daehwi stumbles up and runs away, limping ever so slightly.

Felix immediately goes over to check on you. “Are you okay? Sorry, I couldn’t come faster, but I’m here now.” He pulls you into a hug as you felt tears slide onto your cheeks.

“Please, don’t leave me ever again,” you whispered as Felix wipes the tear away with his thumbs.

“I promise.”

3:58 pm – garage, a few weeks later

Walking out of the cold weather and into the warm garage, you immediately felt better. “What’s wrong?” asked Felix.

“I’m a bit cold,” you say as Felix frowns. He takes your hand and entwines it with his, stuffing it into the pocket of his leather jacket. “Better?”

You nod. “Better.”

Walking up to the boys, they stop when they see the two of you and start laughing. “What?” Felix asks, confused.

Jeongin points to the ceiling, a small mistletoe was hanging from a piece of string over the both of you. “Rules are rules, right?” Felix winks as he caresses your cheek and presses a soft kiss on your lips.

Hearing the hooting from the boys, Felix pulls away, a small smile forming on his lips. “I love you,” he confesses.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #felix #lee felix #felix scenarios #lee felix scenarios #felix imagines #lee felix imagines #stray kids mafia au

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squishysvt · 6 years

Text

If I’m Lucky - Ch.6`You

Member: Ten (NCT) Genre: fluff Word Count: 1,894 A/N this turned into a text fic for 0.25 seconds, hope it doesn’t seem out of place? And although this chapter is filled of my personal writing standard of fluff, there’s like…this bit at the end. Not all that bad, don’t worry :) -Admin Ay

Ch.1`Ten ~ Ch.2`You ~ Ch.3`Ten ~ Ch.4`You ~ Ch.5`Ten ~ Ch.6`You ~ Ch.7`Ten

recap: “Oh, hey, what time is it?” You interrupted Ten’s thoughts.

When he had pulled out his phone to check, he had gotten a glance of the date on his screen, the bright text ingrained into his eyes. It had now been six years since the first time he killed.

You laid in your bed, unable to sleep as thoughts ran through your head. Ten’s sketchy behavior replayed in your memory once you got home from the night out with him. He was shaking, and barley cognizant of his surroundings. The scene was scarily similar to the night you had stayed at his house.

From the time you had first met Ten you got a general idea of his character. On the surface he seemed nice and approachable, but his smile seemed to hide loads of secrets, as cliche as that sounded. You didn’t tend to be the pushy type, always knowing when to keep your nose out of things. However, the mysterious attraction to Ten that you felt initially still hadn’t managed to wear off.

After moments of contemplation, you decided to text the only other person you knew that could satisfy your curiosities. Very much aware that it was well past midnight, you picked up your phone from your bedside to text Johnny.

You: Hey. [sent 2:45 a.m.]

Johnny: Hi? Why are you up [received 2:47 a.m.]

You: I could ask you the same thing

Anyway, do you know what’s up with Ten? [sent 2:47 a.m.]

Johnny: oh wow. And here i thought you just wanted to talk to me. [received 2:48 a.m.]

You: har har

But seriously, i think something’s bothering him. He seems really…out of it. [sent 2:48 a.m.]

Johnny: Uh, i don’t really know. I haven’t talked to him for a bit but I think i know what you’re talking about. I’ve tried asking before but he doesn’t really…tell me what’s going on in that head of his. [received 2:49 a.m.]

You: oh. [sent 2:49 a.m.]

Johnny: he gets like this every now and then. At this point i’ve learnt to just wait it out until he gets better [received 2:49 a.m.]

You tossed your phone onto the other side of the bed, not bothering to respond. Of course getting the information you wanted wouldn’t be that easy. Especially when it came to Ten.

You sunk into your bed, burying your face into your pillows. Despite how Ten regularly treated you, you wanted to make him feel better. Admittedly, you also had somewhat of an ulterior motive to break through his walls and reveal the things he hid. Afterall, how many people could put “softened up a mysterious pretty boy” on their list of accomplishments?

Ideas of how to get Ten to confide in you, or at least return to his normal self, ran through your mind as you made a mental checklist. You figured it would be best not to force him out of the comfort out of his own home. The last time you had hadn’t gone so well.

The later it got, the less you were able to think coherently. You located your phone and turned it on to text Ten. Figuring out an actual plan could come later.

You: Are you available this weekend?

Don’t you dare ignore me. I’ve taught myself how to pick locks since the last time i was locked out. [sent 3:16 a.m.]

You waited a few minutes to see if he would respond. Then you remembered this was the first time you had ever contacted him over the phone.

You: this is Y/N btw [sent 3:20 a.m.]

After a few more minutes, you accepted that Ten wasn’t going to respond any time soon and forced yourself to sleep. You had morning classes in a few hours and wanted to at least get a few hours in before you went.

It was finally the weekend, as you stood outside of Ten’s apartment, bags in hand carrying blankets, snacks, and your laptop. To say you were excited to hang out with your favorite edgelord was an understatement.

You sat through most of your lectures not paying attention, instead thinking about the upcoming weekend. You had woken up the night after you texted Johnny to a dry “yes” from Ten (not like you expected anything else from him), and had immediately thought of the perfect activity to do with him. An in-home movie date under your softest blankets. Of course, it would take place at Ten’s apartment. Your flat wasn’t exactly the best definition of clean, and despite Ten’s looking like a picture from a modern house magazine, you’ve grown very fond of it. His apartment had become more comfortable than any local library or tumblresque cafe.

You kicked at the door, hands occupied with all of your things. You huffed as you waited for him to answer, unsure of if he really was taking years to come to the door, or if it was just the weight of your bags disorienting your sense of time.

The door swung open, revealing a disgruntled Ten, hair disheveled and glasses fogged.

“Why didn’t you just pick the lock?”

Despite how much you enjoyed how soft and certainly tired he looked, it would not stop your quick tongue.

“You must be dumb while you’re sleepy, my hands are full.”

Ten gave you a look of what could only be classifed as irritation. It didn’t affect you, considering just how often he looked at you that way. You pushed past Ten as you made your way into his home.

“Why are you here anyway?”

You placed the bags down on the couch and hummed, “We’re having a movie night!”

Ten only nodded and flopped on the couch beside your bag.

As you unpacked your things you could feel him watching you from his seat, his stare making you quite self conscious of your actions.

“What are we watching?” Ten punctuated his question with a yawn. His features stretching and creasing as he did so. His wireframe glasses slightly slid down the bridge of his nose. You took a moment to admire his appearance before responding.

“I don’t know, I thought I’d leave that up to you.”

Ten seemed to be pondering as he spoke, “I don’t really keep up with movies, there’s nothing I can think of.”

You opened up your laptop and set it down on the coffee table across from the couch. As it was taking forever to start up, you decided to sit next to Ten.

“There’s gotta be some movie you liked as a kid?” You nudged Ten with your leg.

“There was this one movie I remember watching…girl…My Girl?”

You gasped as dramatically as you possibly could and rested your hand on his shoulder, as if confronting a child that had said a bad word. “Do you want me to break down into a crying mess tonight?”

Ten shrugged before explaining himself any further. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen it. I don’t really remember what happens.”

You reached forward to grab your laptop as you tried to locate the movie. Ten kept quiet as you searched away, trying to keep from drifting off. You wondered why he was so tired today, as he seemed to be more of the early-rising type. Maybe it was another nightmare that kept him from getting a good night’s rest. Or maybe he was just power-writing an essay for class like you had been last night. Either way, you doubted the both of you would manage to stay awake for most of the movie session.

The first movie went well, you would say. You had only shed about six genuine tears, which was definitely an improvement from when you had last seen the movie where you had cried for thirty straight minutes until you fell asleep. Ten had denied your accusations of him crying, stealthily wiping his eyes in the soft blanket the two of you had buried under mid-movie.

It was your turn to choose the next film, and after plenty of scrolling and contemplation, you settled with one of your favorite Disney movies. Eventually you felt your eyes grow heavier, the soft glow of the lamps in the room giving off a warm ambiance. Ten next to you had added to the warmth, soon causing you to shift into autopilot, trying to seek his body for more. You snuggled further into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you yawned.

Ten hadn’t bothered to protest in any way, as he was tired too.

“Why did you want to do this with me anyway?” Ten whispered, momentarily halting your journey into dreamland.

You croaked, trying to find your voice as you spoke, “I wanted to make you feel better…did it work?”

Silence hung in the air before he hesitantly responded with a hum that vibrated throughout his body and into you. The feeling reminding you of a purring cat. You sighed as you felt your insides go soft, from both the imagery of Ten as a cute feline and the fact that you had succeeded in cheering the boy up.

Your eyes grew hazy as soon as Li Shang started singing a slightly misogynistic song about turning the warriors into men, the rise and fall of Ten’s body as he breathed gradually lulling you to sleep.

When you had woken up you were met with the serene image of Ten napping, his glasses threatening to fall off of his face any minute. You decided to do Ten a favor and took them off, placing the wireframes onto the coffee table next to your laptop which had shut off long ago.

As you had moved you had caught sight of Ten’s out of place shirt, it lifted slightly revealing a piece of his skin slightly above his hip. A black mark peaked from above his pants that you assumed to be a tattoo.

Curiosity overwhelmed you. You tried your best to pull down his trousers to reveal the rest of it without causing Ten to wake up. Just as you had gotten a peek at the mark, a hand grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t do that.” Ten snapped, his tone taking away from any possible enjoyment of his voice after waking up.

“Ten, what was that? I thought it was a tattoo but it looks like–” you swallowed, the thought making you squirm, “It looks burned on.”

He shook his head, trying to dismiss your concern. “It’s fine, really, don’t worry about it.”

Ten attempted to get up from his spot, but you grabbed him before he could. “But why, of all things, would you get something burned on you? It scars, it’s hard to get rid of–”

“Scars are really the last things I worry about.” Ten scoffed, voice filled with sarcasm as he spoke. Your eyes met, and his face softened, most likely seeing the worry practically radiating off of you.

“I’ll tell you about it later, maybe.” Ten whispered, proceeding to get up like before.

You didn’t try to hold him back again, instead letting him retreat to his room. There you sat on the couch, alone to your thoughts.

A messy burn mark on Ten’s body was unsettling enough, but it was more what the marking was. A black shark that was identifiable by any person that had kept up with the news. A black shark that was graffitied on the walls of dark alleyways.

A black shark associated with the gang Squalo Nero.

#nct ten #nct scenarios #nct au #nct imagines #ten imagines #ten au #ten #nct #nct u #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #nct ten fanfiction #gang au #admin ay

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theoddcatlady · 7 years

Text

Phases

Eleven AM.

Eleven AM and he hasn’t even come down for breakfast.

It’s tough being a single mom of a teenage boy. I don’t complain, hell no, I love my son. Jamie’s done nothing but make my life better for the most part. As a little one, he was always so quiet, loving storytime and reading books. He had always a higher reading level than most kids his age, something which I always encouraged. We made weekly trips to the library where he’d bolt to look at the books, not even pausing to look at the movie section.

As he became older he started coming out of his shell, making friends, but he was still my sweet boy. He always did the dishes without being prompted, was always home at a good time, and always told me what was going on in his life. When he told me his friend was considering suicide we worked together to help that friend out.

A few months ago everything changed.

I don’t know what triggered the change, but it was a day and night change. I could normally go to work and trust Jamie to be out of bed, ready to go. He loved school and was excited he was finally a sophomore.

It was almost time for me to go to work and he hadn’t so much as opened his bedroom door. I was naturally concerned. I thought he was sick. I hurried up to his bedroom and knocked a few times, asking if he was okay. His response shocked me.

“Fuck school, I’m tired.”

First off, Jamie wasn’t the type to use harsh language around me. I don’t care what he said around his friends, just watch his mouth with his mother. I knocked harsher before opening the door.

Jamie wasn’t sick. He was twisted up in his blankets, only his mop of hair and the top of his face sticking out the top. He glared at me.

“Go away.”

Jamie might’ve grown taller than me over these past few years, but I was no pushover. I ended up pulling him out of bed by his blanket. It took a bit of pushing but he did end up marching into the bathroom to get dressed and showered.

I figured it was one of those teenage things. A phase, mood swing, whatever. Jamie had gone through a few phases as a child, one where he refused to sleep anywhere but my bed, the monster under his bed was going to get him, and don’t get me started on his cowboy phase. It was months before he stopped wearing those stupid boots.

But this… this was different. This was rebellion.

The next day I was already running late to work, so I didn’t check to see if Jamie had gotten out of bed. I was on my lunch break when I got a text from Jamie’s girlfriend Marissa.

‘Hey Ms Hensley, how’s Jamie doing?’

Confused, I texted back and asked what she meant. Her reply sent my blood pressure through the roof.

‘He’s sick today right? That’s why he’s not in school?’

I used the rest of my lunch break to go home and sure enough, Jamie hadn’t gotten out of bed. Still twisted up in blankets, although he wasn’t asleep, he was playing some sort of game on his phone.

Busted.

I marched him to school after giving him time to shower and dress, telling him how I was disappointed in his actions and if something was wrong he could talk it over with me. In response, I got an eye roll and an excuse about ‘being tired’.

For the first time in my life I had no idea what was going on in Jamie’s head.

Everything’s just gone downhill since then. Library trips stopped happening, it was a miracle to get him out to do anything but eat on the weekends. And my god, did he eat. I set aside a foot long sub for my dinner in the fridge and went out to water the garden. By the time I was back, the sub was gone, along with a family sized bag of potato chips and a two liter of Pepsi. The latter two were his, so that was none of my business, but the sandwich was mine. Jamie had never taken my food before. I was hurt.

His appetite became voracious over the weeks. On days I knew he went to school, he would pack his own lunch but eat whatever the cafeteria had as well, and judging by the payments the school gave me, he was eating everything he could fit on those plastic trays. He obviously gained weight, and although he was never a skinny kid, he’s now so large he’s having a bit of trouble buckling himself in when he’s in the car.

What’s worse is how he’s shut me off. We were so close for so long. We hid nothing from each other. He told me about his crushes on girls or when he was feeling depressed, I told him whenever I had a bad day at work or when I met a nice guy on a dating website.

Last night was one of the worst of my life. He came home with the cops.

I had no idea he was gone, I was frosting the cake for his birthday when I saw the blue and red flashing lights in the driveway. For several achingly long moments, I thought my son was dead.

Then the door opened and Jamie came out, the cop walking him to the house. I ran to the front door, dropping the chocolate frosting bag in my rush. I opened the door and pulled Jamie into a hug so tight I probably could’ve snapped him in two. The hug was not returned.

“Ma’am, can we step inside and have a talk?”

The cop adjusted his belt and looked stern. Of course I let him in, Jamie sat beside me as the cop explained what happened.

Jamie had been hanging out with a few ‘sketchy’ individuals. They had trespassed into a condemned building and started being a general nuisance, throwing things around, playing loud music. Jamie was the only one that didn’t get away, the other hoodlums were too quick. Jamie was getting off with a warning… this time.

When the police left and it was just me and Jamie, I broke down. I sobbed, begged to know why, just why was he doing this? I wanted my boy back. I wanted to go to the library with him again, read his favorite books, laugh like old times.

I think my tears got to him. I saw a bit of the old Jamie in his face as he rested his hand on my shoulder.

“… I’m sorry, mom… I…” He looked in the kitchen. “… How about we have some cake and… just hang out, okay?” He smiled.

We ended up polishing off the cake together. We didn’t talk about anything serious. Just something Jamie had watched on TV he thought was a hoot. It was, really, I laughed until my sides hurt. I worried about him, but for a brief hour, I thought that maybe he was back to normal.

It’s almost twelve now. He hasn’t even stirred, I haven’t heard him walk around. I got up and headed upstairs. I wanted to talk about his behavior. I wanted to know what the hell was going on. I knocked on his door.

“Jamie? Are you awake?”

No response. I frowned and knocked again. “Jamie? I hope you’re decent…” I slowly opened the door.

The blanket lay on the floor, shredded and covered in a thin layer of a shiny ooze. I looked at the bed and shrieked.

Jamie was nowhere to be seen. Instead there was this… bubble. That’s the best way to put it. A murky, reddish brown bubble. I ran up to it and now up close, I could tell where Jamie was.

Inside.

He was curled up like a fetus, his eyes were closed and he was completely naked. I couldn’t tell if he was even breathing. I screamed and started to claw at the bubble’s wall, desperate to get him out. It was an impossible task, the bubble’s surface was thick and wouldn’t give.

As I watched, helpless, I saw the skin on Jamie’s back start to peel off. Layer by layer, I saw skin, muscle, bone. He was melting. I screeched and pounded harder against the bubble, screaming Jamie’s name as he liquefied in front of my eyes. His gut practically exploded with fat, which succeeded in further clouding my view of him.

Before his head was consumed, his eyes opened. He looked… at peace. No more pain. No more exhaustion. He smiled before the flesh on his face was consumed, leaving behind a grinning skull that too vanished

I sunk to the slime covered floor, my shaking legs unable to support me any longer. My son. My son was changing.

After several moments, I rested my hand on the shell of his cocoon, and strangely smiled as well.

Just a phase, people say. This would be just a phase as well.

#horror stories #scary stories #sixpenceee stories #creative writing #writers on tumblr #my stories

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jouissezduprintemps · 7 years

Text

Something to Prove, Chapter Twelve: Third Time’s the Charm

Rating: T Warnings: Swearing Words: 2417 Fandom: Naruto Summary: As Suna prepares for its first independently-held chunin exam since Gaara became kazekage, the sand siblings must make sure that everything goes off without a hitch.

First Previous Next

The spectators’ cheers roared through the arena, welcoming the genin who were scheduled to compete. Temari was surprised at the turnout; Suna wasn’t very central, so anyone not from the village had almost certainly gone out of their way to be here. She took this as a credit to how well she and Shikamaru had executed the last few exams. She glanced over at him, and she saw him flicking the lid of his lighter open and closed. He was impatient to get started, and his head was tilted back as he checked the position of the sun. To anyone else, he appeared to be cloud gazing, lazy as ever. It humored her that he was so frequently underestimated.

As the noise died, he was quick to begin with the rules and structure the exam would take. “Kame and Naoko,” he read off his clipboard, “you’re first. Everyone else can watch from the waiting area.” When he looked up, all but two of the genin scattered. He raised his hand in the air and brought it swiftly down in a signal to begin. Before the genin could move, he leaped to the alcove which served as the exit to the arena.

He stood by Temari’s side, watching the match closely. The two seemed even when it came to skill; this might take a while. Temari passed him two stat cards, one for each current participant. He was right. Their skills in taijutsu and ninjutsu were ranked closely, but the cloud genin had a kekkei genkai. Even so, the match could go either way. The betting tables were probably busy.

The hours seemed to drag on forever, if only because it took Shikamaru and Temari a matter of seconds to predict the outcome of each battle. It was too bad they weren’t allowed to place any bets; they could have made quite a bit of money, from what Shikamaru understood from the reactions of the spectators. As a proctor, he wasn’t supposed to show any bias, but he couldn’t hide his pleasure when Konohamaru and Moegi made it into the second round. Udon put up a good fight, but his opponent was several years older and had taken the exam before.

Shikamaru briefly took on the role of security guard in addition to proctor after Konohamaru’s victory, when Naruto tried to rush the arena. No sooner had Temari called the match did Konohamaru run to meet him in a display that could only be rivaled by Might Guy and Rock Lee in magnitude. He’d awkwardly sent the two weeping ninja back up the stairs to their seats, dreading what their reactions would be when Konohamaru met his next opponent the following day.

To their great relief, no major incidents occurred during the first nine matches. Shikamaru was almost hit with a fire jutsu when he rushed onto the field to call an unbalanced match, but that was the worst of it. For Shikamaru and Temari, it was almost a miracle. After the final match, Temari gave her brother a hand signal, at which he stood and gave his usual closing speech for such an event. The large crowd filed orderly through the corridor, needing no guidance or oversight.

Gaara and Kankuro remained on the upper level, where the feudal lord was taking the time to shake the kazekage’s hand and exchange a few words. Patiently, Shikamaru leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette, relieved that things had gone so well. Temari, who had extended her hand, took the pack from him and did the same.

She had just begun to relax when they were approached by Naruto and Konohamaru, who had remained behind while Ebisu took his teammates back to their lodgings. Temari flicked the ashes off the end of her cigarette, sending the glowing, red dust to the ground. Wanting to avoid stepping into conversation, she lifted it to her lips, providing herself with an excuse not to speak.

Shikamaru, on the other hand, gave Konohamaru an affectionate pat on the head. “You did good today, kid. Asuma’d be proud. Your gramps, too.”

The genin beamed at his praise, laughing to himself. “Thanks, big brother Shikamaru.”

“I’m gonna take Konohamaru out for ramen to celebrate,” Naruto declared. “It might not be Ichiraku, but we’ve gotta stick to tradition. You wanna come?” Realizing he was being rude, he added, “You can join us too, Temari.”

Temari exhaled a cloud of smoke before looking to Shikamaru. It was his decision. She wasn’t offended that she’d been an afterthought. Really, Naruto just assumed they went everywhere together at this point, even though he never asked why. Seeing that she didn’t care one way or the other, Shikamaru glanced up at Gaara and Kankuro. It seemed like they’d be a while, and he didn’t want to have to wait until they were through to eat. And, if they stuck around, they might get sucked into the political dance of formalities they had been able to avoid up to this point with the feudal lord.

“Sure,” Shikamaru agreed.

“Awesome! I saw this ramen place off the main road that looks pretty good.” Naruto suggested.

“No, you don’t want to go there,” Temari informed him, straightening from her position of leaning against the wall. “It’s expensive, and I’ve seen you eat ramen before. I know a place that will give you a bowl larger than Ichiraku for the same price.”

Naruto brazenly threw an arm around Temari’s shoulders, catching her off guard. She had to jerk her right hand away as not to burn him with the end of her cigarette. “Now, that’s what I like to hear!”

Temari shot Shikamaru a look to plead for his help as Naruto steered her along with him out of the arena. Amused, Shikamaru followed along, walking beside Konohamaru.

“You really think Uncle Asuma’s proud of me?” he asked. He knew that Shikamaru had been his uncle’s favorite, and he’d come to see Shikamaru as a surrogate who took his place after his death.

“Sure he is,” Shikamaru assured him. “He’s probably thrilled that you didn’t follow my lead and throw the match.”

“Hey, wasn’t that your match with Temari?” Naruto asked. He removed his arm from Temari’s shoulders and started to walk backwards so he could look at his friend as he talked. He chuckled. “Man, she was pissed.”

“You gave up?!” Konohamaru couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “But she kicked your butt the other day!”

“Watch it,” Shikamaru warned, flicking the back of his head.

Temari smiled to herself and hit it behind the palm of her hand, strategically inhaling from her cigarette. She supposed that a little flirting couldn’t hurt; they’d been doing it for years and no one had said anything. “Don’t tell me you’re still upset about it, Crybaby.”

“Alright, give it back.” Shikamaru gestured with his hand. “You take one of my smokes then insult me? It doesn’t work that way.”

As much as she wanted to turn around and tell him to take it if he wanted it, she knew that would be going a little too far. Instead, she looked back at him over her shoulder and tauntingly blew smoke in his direction.

“Oh, man, you’re just gonna take that?!” Naruto protested, falling back enough so that he could put a hand on Shikamaru’s shoulder. “Man up, Shikamaru!”

“It’s too much of a drag,” he complained, shrugging off Naruto’s grasp. “She’s already smoked more than half of it, so it wouldn’t even be worth the effort.”

“Make her give you one of hers,” Konohamaru suggested, not realizing that the conversation wasn’t about being fair.

“She doesn’t have any. She just takes mine.”

Konohamaru made a face. “So she kicks your butt and takes your stuff. If she’s a bully, why do you spend time with her?”

Shikamaru chuckled. “It’ll make sense when you’re older. Women are strange; they don’t work like we do.”

“Yeah, Sakura kicks my butt all the time, and I still spend time with her!” Naruto added.

“I don’t think that’s the same thing…” Konohamaru pointed out.

Temari laughed at this, enjoying the kid’s naïve wit. She slowed her pace until she was walking beside Konohamaru, on the outside of their small group. “It’s Konohamaru, right?”

“Konohamaru Sarutobi!”

“He’s Asuma’s nephew,” Shikamaru told her, giving a bit of context.

“Ah, I see.” As she looked down at him, she could tell that he wasn’t entirely sure what to think about her. Fair enough; few people did the first time they met her. She turned her gaze away and indicated a side street. “We need to turn here.”

“It looks a little sketchy,” Naruto complained.

“If it’s too scary for you, we can go back to the main street.”

Naruto huffed indignantly, insulted that she would suggest such a thing. “I never said that.”

The group stopped when Temari found the building she was looking for. The only thing signifying that it was a restaurant was the kanji for ramen painted on the façade. She dropped her cigarette into the sand and extinguished it with the bottom of her sandal before leading them inside.

The interior of the building was well-lit. It was small, with only a handful of tables, but the environment was pleasant. They were the only customers other than a family of five, who had tucked themselves away in the corner.

“Lady Temari!” The middle-aged woman in the kitchen beamed. “Sit wherever you like, dear. I’ll be right with you.”

Shikamaru shook his head. “I wish people would stop calling you that. It’s weird.”

“It comes with the bloodline,” she reminded him as she chose a table. Shikamaru took the chair to her left, and Naruto and Konohamaru sat across the table from them. She gestured to the wall by the kitchen, where the menu was painted in bold print. “They don’t have a lot of different things, but it’s all good.”

Temari was impressed. They had taken an entire hour to eat, and Naruto hadn’t annoyed her once. Although, she did need to remind herself that he’d been stuffing his face for a good portion of it.

Naruto patted his distended stomach as they walked, clearly satisfied with the meal. As the main road came into sight, he turned to look at Shikamaru and Temari. “You guys go on ahead. I’m gonna take Konohamaru back to Ebisu-sensei. Just don’t lock me out, ok?”

“Don’t worry,” Shikamaru assured him. “We won’t leave you where a sandstorm could take you.”

They waited until Naruto and Konohamaru had disappeared into the crowd before beginning their trek home.

“That went well,” Temari commented.

Shikamaru nodded in agreement. “I think he’s warmed up to you a bit. And he doesn’t seem to be angry that I punched him.”

“Asuma’s nephew seems like a good kid. But, aren’t you worried that he spends so much time with Naruto?”

“It’s way too late to do anything about it,” Shikamaru admitted. “He’s been Naruto’s mini-me for as long as I can remember.”

The two of them walked in silence for a bit before Shikamaru commented, “I don’t know what Gaara was worried about. Naruto’s completely oblivious.”

“We just need to keep it that way.”

“He didn’t think anything about it when he saw me in my underwear in your bathroom. I’m pretty sure he won’t notice.”

Temari turned the knob on her front door, but it was locked. Gaara and Kankuro hadn’t made it home, then. They dodged a bullet when they left with Naruto, that was for sure. She pulled out her key and inserted it, letting them inside. She turned on the hall light before taking off her shoes. “My back hurts from standing up all day,” she complained, more to herself than to Shikamaru.

“And we have to get up and do it all again tomorrow,” Shikamaru groaned. He’d forgotten that particular detail. He set off down the hall, looking forward to getting a little rest. They both needed it. Between the stress of the exams and the physical effort it took to keep a few of the genin from actively trying to kill one another, they were a little worse for wear.

“Don’t remind me,” Temari grumbled, rubbing her forehead with the thumb and index finger of her right hand. “I just want a hot shower.”

Shikamaru put an arm out against the wall to stop her in her tracks. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her neck before saying “You know, if you want it hot, I can join you.”

Temari put her hands on his chest and pushed him away, looking at him in disbelief. Seeing his confusion, she burst into laughter, clutching her sides as she doubled over. “Oh my god!” She tried to straighten up, but she couldn’t help herself. “Oh, god, I can’t even look at you! I can’t breathe!”

“I was trying to be sexy…” he huffed, clearly missing his mark.

Temari shook her head as she wiped a tear from her cheek. “Never say anything like that again. Oh, god. Where the hell did you even hear that? It sounds like a line from Makeout Paradise!”

Shikamaru realized that his father and Asuma had more fun at his expense during his younger years than he knew. His complete lack of interest in women had prompted them to give him several unsolicited pointers, well out of earshot of Yoshino or Kurenai. It dawned on him that his sensei managed to troll him from beyond the grave with this one.

Finally able to compose herself, she took him by the hand and led him down the hall. “Come on, idiot.”

#shikatema #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfiction #fanfiction #shikamaru nara #temari of the sand #naruto uzumaki

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jimlingss · 7 years

Text

The Breakup Bureau

Words: 8.1k Genre: Fluff, Angst

Read more at Service Series

Saying goodbye is never easy.

Held hands over the table, she looks at him with softened eyes and a thoughtful expression. As he finishes with a gentle exhale, she nods. “You know what? You’re right! I deserve better!”

“You deserve the world and more.” He charmingly smiles, gaze dripping with honey.

She breaks out into a grin and pulls her hands away from his, leaning back in her chair. “How could I have been so blind?! I can’t believe I went through a relationship like that for an entire year!”

“And now you get to start fresh again. With someone who will treat you the way you deserve.”

“You’re right.” She shakes her head, repeating it like a mantra. “You’re so right and I’m thankful for him too. Because if it weren’t for him, I would’ve never had this experience. Now I have a whole new blank slate and I can use the experience I have under my belt for a more successful relationship.”

He grins at her. “That’s exactly what I’m saying!”

With a big smile and an inhale, she gets up from her seat. The two shake hands with each other. “You opened my eyes. Thank you….?”

“Hoseok.” Two dimples dot each side of his cheek, a mop of bright orange hair on his head contrasting against the sophisticated suit. “My name is Hoseok.”

The office is located in a small, dingy spot at the corner of a run down strip mall. Sometimes there are loiterers around and by loiterers - it’s sketchy people doing weird business. There’s even been an incident of some teenagers taking a piss at the brick wall but Taehee came out with a broomstick and chased them away. Despite the location, it’s quite cozy inside with some computers and cubicle desks.

“What happened to you?”

Hoseok laughs as he wipes his feet on the welcome mat and strips off his black coat, throwing it onto the hanger. “Some guy punched me in the face.” Insung is expressionless, holding up the bag of ice to his face as Taehee joins in the laughter.

“Why are you so bad at your job?” She murmurs out with amusement.

“I’m not bad, okay? He was just really upset.” He sighs. “I don’t blame him either. He was gonna marry the girl.”

“Let me guess.” She clasps her hands together, still leaning on the cubicle wall as she turns to Hoseok. “Mission unsuccessful?”

“Mission successful.” Hoseok tilts his head, dragging out the words with exasperation. “Who do you think I am?”

“Even worse than me.” Insung grins. “You hate hurting people’s feelings.”

“Congratulations. Is this your first success this month? Didn’t someone splash wine on you last time?” Taehee laughs, patting a dejected Hoseok on the back as he walks to his desk.

“It’s my second success this month.” He pouts. “And no, you’re thinking of the incident two months ago. Last time someone slapped me across the face.”

“Right, right.” She nods with a giggle.

“It hurt you know.” He mumbles, rubbing his cheek like he can still remember how sore it was for days after. Hoseok plops down in his seat, spinning around in the swivel chair as he stares at the ceiling.

“Breakups are terrible.”

You have a significant other and now it’s time to break it off. The only thing is that you’re terrible at confrontation and you really don’t want to be a witness to their massive breakdown. Who says you have to? At the Breakup Bureau, we break up for you!

Quick. Easy. Painless. Without having to do anything at all! Call today at 1-800-goo-dbye.

The Breakup Bureau. Doing business for you.

Hoseok takes a sharp inhale as he reads off the slip of his paper, a name of his ‘victim’ and a few details on who they are. He blinks once as he enters the cafe, the bells chiming to mark his entrance.

No way, he thinks to himself. It’s too much of a coincidence.

He looks around and spots you in the corner, looking out the window. He clears his throat and takes a few strides up as you slowly turn your face, catching him in your peripheral vision and-

“Hoseok?”

There’s a complete blank expression on his face until a grin breaks it. “Y/N?!”

He wasn’t wrong after all.

“Oh my god!” You get up instantly with a big smile that matches his. “How long has it been? How are you doing? Wow!”

Hoseok laughs, a noise rolling off his tongue as his eyes crinkle. “Slow down. One question at a time!” He pulls up a chair across from you and the other customers in the shop muse how the once lonely corner is now the brightest and loudest one. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great actually.” You try to bite back your smile when you realize it’s too wide. “What about you? Anything new?”

“I’m doing fine. Nothing much has changed.”

There’s a long silence as you both linger in each other’s presence but any awkwardness that might be possible isn’t present at all. “Wow...this is kind of crazy.” You sigh out.

“How so?” He laughs.

“One moment I’m sitting here by myself and the next I’m across from my childhood best friend who I haven’t seen in years.”

“I know the feeling.” Hoseok snickers but then his grin instantly dies down, reminded of why he’s here sitting in front of you today. The wind knocks out of his lungs and he wants to smash his head against the wall. There’s no way...sitting in front of you like this with your smile, there’s no way he can break u-

“How’s your mom doing? Is she still baking those delicious scones? I still haven’t forgotten about them! I was so regretful that I never got the recip-”

“She’s doing fine.” He cuts you off. “Listen, Y/N. Are you dating anyone these days?”

“Wow, Jung Hoseok.” You lean back in your seat, crossing your arms and tilting your head to one side. He swallows hard, nervous of the suspicious look you’re giving him. “We literally just met up again for five minutes and you’re already hitting on me?”

“I-I’m not hitting on you.” He draws out with exasperation.

You giggle and he laughs. “Actually I am. His name is Jaebum and he’s a really great guy. You should totally meet him some time. Sometimes he just goes off and-”

The words that spew from your mouth go through one of his ears and out the other. Hoseok grimaces of how he has met your boyfriend, well through the phone anyway - and he’s an outright douchebag in real life, ordering Hoseok to break up with you as soon as possible. It’s completely unlike how you describe him so fondly with immense love in your eyes. Hoseok can’t help but feel guilty and a tad bit jealou-

“Are you listening to me?” You wave your hand in front of him, leaning closely. “Earth to Hobi!”

His heart does a tiny summersault of the old nickname that has only ever been used by you. “I’m here, I’m here.” He grins, giving you a silly expression that makes you laugh. “Y/N.”

“What?” Your smile ceases at his sudden serious tone.

Hoseok takes a deep breath, recalling the proper steps to a smooth breakup.

Don’t blame them.

Share the positives.

Be hot. Honest, Open and Truthful.

“It’s not your fault.” He smiles gently. “You’re an amazing person, Y/N. I know so and you deserve the absolute best in this world.”

You give him a quirked smile. “What are you talking about?”

Direct like ripping a band-aid off. Just say it.

He coaxes himself, taking another inhale. “Between you and Jaebum, it’s ove-”

“Oh my god!” You completely miss his words, standing up at the table with your phone in your hand. “We’re going to be late!”

“What?”

With a simple sigh and digging your phone back into your purse, you smile at your old friend. “I was waiting for Jaebum but I guess he’s running a bit late. We have a date night tonight. I already got the tickets to a movie. It’s starting in ten minutes!”

“Oh.”

Hoseok isn’t sure if there was any miscommunication but he was positive that it was suppose to be over between the both of you. How a date was set up, he has no absolute idea. Just how cowardly was this Jaebum guy?

You turn to Hoseok with a grin, one that has him blinking twice. “You know what? You should totally come with us.”

“What?” He gives an expression of horror which you take as confusion.

“Well, I haven’t seen my best friend in years and we still haven’t gotten to catch up or anything.” You pout at him and he nearly falters at your glistening puppy eyes. “I’m sure Jaebum won’t mind. Let’s go~”

Before he can protest, he’s pulled out and dragged by you out the door. “Hey. Hey!”

The both of you are on the curb on the street, in front of the theater and Hoseok watches you in guilt as you turn your head to look down every direction of the road. The rain is drizzling mildly, droplets falling onto your eyelashes. “Why isn’t he here yet? The movie’s starting in two minutes.”

“Maybe we should just go in.” Hoseok clears his throat, persuading you gently. “Maybe he’s running late.”

“Yeah.” With a small huff, you turn on your heel and the two of you enter the warm building.

Hoseok steals a glance, wanting to move away the wet strands of hair in front of your face. Instead he forcefully peels his eyes off of you and clears his throat. “Does he do this often?”

“Not being on time?” You ask him innocently and he feels a sudden urge to engulf you in his arms, apologizing a hundred times to dissipate your hurt expression.

“Not showing up at all.”

There’s a slight hum that leaves your throat. “Sometimes but that’s just who he is. I still love him though.”

The words twist his guts like a washrag and he groans internally at how every second that passes, you’re just making it more and more difficult for him. It must show on his face because the next thing that you ask while walking inside the theater room is- “are you okay?”

He smiles reassuringly despite being barely seen in the dim lights. “Yeah. I’m just super excited for the movie!”

You snicker at him and he can still hear you as the both of you walk up the stairs and pick a spot smack dab in the middle. “It’s actually crazy how much of a coincidence this is. Don’t you love robot movies?”

“That was when I was like five!” He protests loudly and no one around is disturbed since the commercials playing drown out his voice. You, on the other hand, hear him loud and clear since you’re in the next seat and mere millimeters away.

“Maybe it was good that Jaebum didn’t show up..” Hoseok speaks his mind for a moment, stealing yet another glance at you. “Because...of course you only had two tickets with you!”

He laughs stiffly and you smile. “Maybe you’re right. But anyways, aren’t you glad it isn’t a horror movie? Jaebum really wanted to watch one.”

“Don’t you hate horror movies?” He frowns.

“Yeah.” The smile on your lips drop before something even more mischievous shows up a second later. “But at least I don’t piss myself.”

“That was one time!” He practically screams and this time it’s loud enough that the people in the next row turn around with a glare. Hoseok instantly quiets down, sinking deeper into his seat in embarrassment and you punch his arm with a giggle.

Before anything more is said, the lights dim and the two of you settle in for two hours. It’s the happiest you’ve been in awhile, reunited with your friend and the both of you laughing with each other, giving light punches at the other’s arm. The disappointment of Jaebum not appearing, once weighing on your mind, completely is forgotten.

“That. was. insane.” You shout to the sky, the both of you leaving the theater and Hoseok throwing the empty bowl of popcorn that you both shared into the trashcan.

“That twist. Who ever knew?” He grins.

“That the entire time the main character was the robot and that entire world was just a different species.” You shake your head, turning to him with amazement in your eyes that makes him giggle. His eyes crinkle and dimples dot both sides of his cheek. “Oh! I have dinner prepared at home. You should come over.”

“Come over?”

“Yeah, it’s not like we’re strangers or anything! I have like a decade of things to catch you up on.” There’s a flicker in your eyes before you recoil. “Oh..unless you’re busy or something. It’s fine either wa-”

“Y/N.” He searches your face, finding a bit of guilt but he can’t bear the thought of you returning back with prepared dinner but no one else to eat with. He wonders how you even ended up with such an asshole when you truly deserve the best; he’s said and thought that line a million times before but never has he meant it more. “I’d really love to.”

You deserve the best.

He can’t help but want to be that ‘best’.

When Hoseok asked if Jaebum lived with you, you shook your head and said something along the lines that he complained it was too restricting and not enough freedom for him. Hoseok didn’t push anymore when he saw how your bright face became gloomy with the mention of your supposed boyfriend. But with your cozy apartment and the dinner already half eaten despite still steaming on the table, anything unhappy quickly washes away. It’s delicious and Hoseok doesn’t remember the last time he’s had a home cooked meal, having moved away from home for a long time. Regardless of how he wants to gobble it all up, he sometimes forgets to eat when the both of you are hooked in deep conversation.

“So the hairstylist messed up and…”

“You did not.” He grins. “You got a bowl haircut?!”

“I did!” You yell out with exasperation, cringing away from the memories. “It was so embarrassing and my crush at the time told me it looked fine but then I saw him laughing with his friends.”

“Oh my god.” Hoseok shakes his head, cheeks numb from smiling. “You need to show me a photo.”

“Over my dead body.” You pout, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Hey! But you saw my face with that atrocious haircut before!”

“That was back when you were in kindergarten.” You quirk your head to the side. “And you were cute back then so it helped.”

His heart does another somersault and he can’t help but hit the ceiling at how you called him cute. Well technically, his former and younger child self cute but it still counts! And it’s so ironic because you’re cute and he feels an urge to just squish your cheeks together and ki-

“I wondered what happened to you.” You shake your head apologetically. “Where did the cute Hobi go?”

He pouts exaggeratedly, batting his eyelashes. “I’m still cute, Y/N-ah.”

“Really?” You widen your eyes, searching his face. “Where? I don’t see it?”

His jaw drops to the floor. “You’re still bullying me after all these years! Meanie.”

“I am so not.” You’re the one who’s flabbergasted. “Remember how you made me eat your expired crackers?”

He grins warmly. “But you didn’t get sick..so-”

“So? I could’ve died!”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m the dramatic one?”

It’s still odd to you how Hoseok is sitting right in front of you and it’s like there hasn’t been a day that’s passed since the both of you were apart. Smiles and giggles slip from your lips so easily that it’s almost scary. Despite his exaggerated pouts and his playful teasing, he’s a lot more attentive and caring that you remember him as, washing the dishes and refusing to let you do anything since you cooked the meal.

With his tall figure and broad shoulders at the sink, you muse how he isn’t the short child that you used to jump on and make him play pretend as a horse. He would make ‘purring’ sounds as you pointed and lead him where to go, like the princess you wanted to be.

“What are you laughing about?” He turns around with narrowed eyes and you smile.

“How did you get your orange hair?”

There’s a long silence as he turns back to his task before a small whisper leaves his mouth and you burst out in another fit of laughter. “I lost a bet.”

Crashing on your couch, the television simply plays as background static noise, contrasting how you and Jaebum use to fill the silences. “You still dance?!”

He smiles a bit modestly. “A little?”

“A little?! If you’re still dancing from grade six until now, you must be fantastic!” You lean back in the plush armchair. “Wow~ Jung Hoseok, you need to show me some time.”

“I will.” He yawns.

“Oh. It’s already midnight.” You look at your clock before it really hits you. “MIDNIGHT?!”

“Didn’t we get here at seven?” He squints at the time as if it’s wrong. “How did five hours pass so quickly?”

“I have no idea.” You shake your head, rubbing your eyes after realizing that they were burning.

There’s a bit of a silence before Hoseok speaks up. “I should really get going then.”

“Oh. Yeah. You have work right?”

“I do.” He gets up, turning around to put on his jacket but he can already sense you lingering behind him, swaying on both feet and not sure of what to say. “We should do this again sometime.”

You jump at his words, glad that your fun wasn’t one sided. “Let’s trade numbers then.”

When you do just that, putting in your number in his phone and returning it to him, he snaps a picture of you with the bright flash causing you to blink. “Hey!” He giggles and you pull up the camera, making him pose. “You too.”

Hoseok does his infamous cute stance, puffing out his cheeks as his hands squish against them and he pouts his lips with closed eyes. A click and a laugh later, you set it as his contact photo. As you glance at his screen, seeing the picture of you mid-blink and after a protest, Hoseok pulls you in for a selfie with him. “Satisfied?”

He shows you the picture of the both of you smiling brightly despite it being past midnight and the glow of the kitchen light in front of you a little dim. “Very. Send it to me too!”

The both of you linger at your doorway, a bit awkwardly as Hoseok scratches the back of his neck. “You should go to bed soon.”

“I will.” You smile. “You too. It’s really late. Drive home safely. You should text me when you get back.”

“I will.” Hoseok reassures before he gathers enough courage to lean in and give you a tight squeeze. You reciprocate immediately but the embrace remains friendly and only lasts a mere two seconds. “It was really fun catching up with you, Y/N.”

“We should do it again.” You grin. “There’s still plenty of stories to tell.”

He smiles with a nod. “Alright. Go back inside and lock the door. Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Hoseok.”

You watch as he turns and walks down the hallway before gently shutting the door with a soft smile. Hoseok turns around to try to catch one last image of you but you’re already safely tucked inside your abode and he smiles too. It’s right then and there that it occurs to him that he completely forgot to do his job.

He forgot to break up with you.

But in reality it’s not as bad as he grimaces and punches the air in front of him, since you’ve completely forgotten about your boyfriend as well.

“I already paid you!! I thought you said you could get the job done in one day!!” The voice barks over the telephone, shaking his ear drums.

“I’m very sorry, sir. There was a delay in our message and we can refund you at any given ti-”

“Just!” The voice groans over the phone. “Just get it done for me in three days!”

“Why are you so mad, baby?” There’s another faint voice over the phone, a woman and most definitely not you. She continues to coo in a voice that makes Hoseok cringe. “What’s wrong?”

Jaebum on the line sighs tiredly. “Just get it done for me.” And the next second, the line is dead.

“OH MY GOOOOOOOD.” Hoseok slams his head on his desk, trying to kill the rage inside of him that threatens to launch the phone at the wall. No matter how much he’s thought about it, he still can’t understand how you got caught with such an asshole. Some part of him wants to find his client and choke him silly until he’s gone blue.

“What’s up with him?” Insung frowns, entering the office.

“Oh.” Taehee grins, looking on in amusement. “His victim is an old friend and he didn’t manage to do the job in one go.”

“He didn’t?” Insung’s jaw drops. “You’re suppose to do it with one meeting.”

Hoseok who overhears barely mumbles past his lips. “I couldn’t do it.”

“So you’re gonna have to meet up with her again?”

There’s a long pause before he groans. “Yeah.”

Taehee smiles with pity. “If you want I can do it for you.”

“No.” Hoseok shakes his head, finally straightening out his spine. “I know her so I’ll be able to do it without causing much damage.”

“Isn’t that the problem? That you know her?” Insung gives him a look. “Remember the band-aid policy! Just quick and easy. It hurts less that way.”

“When are you meeting up with her again?” Taehee interjects with curiosity.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well get it done soon! And don’t somehow turn it into a date.” She teases but it just pains Hoseok even more.

“I’ll...I’ll try my best.”

He paces back and forth relentlessly, nibbling on his lip as he wonders how he’ll ever go about breaking the terrible news to you. This is close to one of the most painful experiences he’s ever had. When he danced until his feet gave out on him, it was more of a physical pain but still his mind felt the exhilaration. This time, he’s just in complete mental pain, heart aching and wrenching as he practices the lines he’ll spit out at you.

‘So it’s a total coincidence that we were best friends a decade ago but what wasn’t a coincidence was me running into you. Hahaha...isn’t life kind of funny? But Y/N, I was hired by your boyfriend to break up with you. The jerk didn’t want to do it himself so now I’m doing it! By the way, that crush I had back then might totally be coming back right now so, no pressure at all. You deserve the best and I’m pretty sure you love this guy and here I am with my feelings. Great! This is just fantastic!’

Insung and Taehee look on in concern but they merely wave when it’s time to clock out. Hoseok continues to pace back and forth, mumbling under his breath after he promises he’ll lock up the office when he’s done. What he’s least expecting is a sudden phone call, a vibration and a ring that scares him shitless. He can’t be blamed though, the office is in a sketchy area and it is dark outside.

“H-hello?” He frowns, having already seen your caller ID and the smiling picture of the two of you used as your contact photo.

There’s silence and then a sniffle. “H-Hoseok?”

He immediately springs up, grabbing his coat from the rack. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know where I am and-”

“Y/N.” He’s never sounded more serious, lips tight in a line with furrowed brows. Hoseok switches off the lights in the office and leaves with shoes barely on his feet, locking up the doors as fast as he can. “Where are you?”

You had more plans with your boyfriend, a date night to make up for the last time he bailed but low and behold, he didn’t show up again. Then you were on the street, all dressed up in the middle of the night and to avoid a complete break down, you started walking aimlessly. You waked until you felt more pain with your heels digging at the skin of your feet than the anguish in your soul. Sure you avoided a complete mental breakdown in public but then you were in the middle of nowhere and you certainly didn’t want to be alone. Scrolling through your contacts, you couldn’t fathom why there was no one you could rely on; that is until Hoseok’s name showed up.

He came in a heartbeat and now you were sitting in his toasty car, looking out the window with misty eyes and immense guilt. You were terrible. You used him. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He replies seriously, all traces of playfulness and joking around dead behind his dark pupils. It takes everything within Hoseok’s being to not pound the steering wheel in blind rage and find out where this asshole of your boyfriend lived so he could punch the living daylights out of him.

Though you feel wrong for calling Hoseok as a lift and some company, little did you know that he would even run on his two feet to you.

He inhales a deep breath, filling his lungs to calm down. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” You turn to stare at his profile. “No. Why?”

“Good.”

Hoseok doesn’t answer your question or even utter words after that and you muse how serious the mischievous man can get. He doesn’t smile and keeps his lips tilted downwards and you repress the urge to lean over to pull on his cheek. You wish he would grin, it would certainly make you feel a whole lot better to see his usual cheerfulness.

“What. is. this?” You laugh for the first time that night, staring at the movie tickets in your hand.

“Let’s go.” He grabs your other hand, pulling you along but he steals another glance at your grin and a tiny smile sneaks up his own lips.

“You’re going to piss yourself!”

“I’m not seven years old anymore.” He whines out. “I can control my bladder. Can you control yours?”

You scoff, entering the dark movie theater and plopping down in the very front row. “You can hold my hand if you get too scared.” Hoseok leans over, whispering in your ear and you ignore the goosebumps that raise along your arms.

“As if.” You roll your eyes and he grins, dimples dotting both sides of his cheeks like you wished to see.

Hoseok figured what better way for you to take your mind off your asshole boyfriend than a horror movie at midnight in theaters with the giant screen and surround sound speakers. What he doesn’t take into account is how scared he’ll actually be.

Even when your heart stops beating for a moment, Hoseok’s shrill scream breaks your fears. You actually begin to hysterically laugh at how his screaming rivals that of the main characters of the movie, both sounding at the same time, high pitched and piercing. With the way you’re laughing, people outside might think that the movie is actually a comedy and with the way Hoseok yells, people would think that he’s the one getting murdered. You’re sure people behind the both of you are shooting you odd looks but your stomach aches too much as you’re doubling over in your seat to look behind you.

You’re still laughing by the time you leave, jaw and cheeks completely numb. Hoseok is an absolute mess, hair like a bird’s nest, sweat built on his forehead and cheeks stained with what you’re sure are tears - his mouth can’t even close properly. It’s worse than the time the both of you rode the tallest rollercoaster in the country. “Are you going to throw up?” You ask in concern, reaching up and moving away a strand of his hair. He blinks once at you and sighs.

“No. I’m okay. I might not be able to sleep tonight though.” He looks forward, bee-lining out the theater. “Or for the rest of my life.”

“You owe me one.” You protest to him.

“What? Why?”

“You know I hate horror movies!” You pout and he matches it, cutely with his bottom lip jutting out.

“But Y/N-ie. You weren’t even that scared.” He frowns, looking away with a hmph. “I suffered way more than you did.”

You laugh. “Who ever told you to bring me to a horror movie?”

Truth be told, you really didn’t get that scared earlier. You aren’t even sure what the movie was about. More importantly, it completely slipped your mind why you were so upset earlier-

“Oh.” His feet stop as he points to a 24-hour open grocery store on the other side of the street. “I need a few things…”

He hesitantly looks at you and you shrug. “Might as well get them while we’re here.”

Hoseok grins and the both of you don’t realize how it’s close to 3 am.

“What do you need?” You ask him, leaning against the shopping cart and pushing it behind him. Hoseok walks with hands behind his back, gazing at the shelves without actually picking anything out.

“Just groceries.” He turns around with a slight smile before his eyes catch something. “Oh! Do you remember this? We ate-”

“-it in grade three!” You finish off, standing straight and looking at the box of gummy bear candies. “My mom used to buy them all the time and you would-”

“-steal them from you.” He grins at you, throwing it into the cart and buying them for old time’s sakes. “For the record, you gave them to me.”

“Once.” You retort, lightly pushing the cart into his butt. “Then after that you just took them out of my lunchbag.”

“It’s not like you minded~” His voice rings out, taking a turn into another aisle.

“I did mind!”

“Let’s just say it was compensation for all the times you teased me.” He moves you aside, taking control of the shopping cart and you scoff lightly, jabbing his arm with your elbow.

“I didn’t even tease you that much.” You raise your head, purposely not looking at how he stares at you with a mischievous grin. “I saved you from the other bullies.”

“Because you were a bigger bully.”

“Was not!”

“You still are!”

Before you can even retort, Hoseok races off while pushing the shopping cart down the aisle. You’re stunned for a second before shouting out loud and chasing him down, the both of you engaged in some sort of tag game. The grocery store is completely empty aside from the occasional sleepy worker being jolted awake from your laughter and the odd, tired person grabbing something quick. When you end up at the toy section, he throws a ball at you and the both of you end up playing dodge ball for five minutes. When he disappears and you go looking for him, calling out his name in exasperation, you find him in the freezer of the frozen food section with a frozen big smile.

At some point, you even end up standing at the edge of the shopping cart as Hoseok pushes you as you point to where to go. He ends up running and giving the cart a big shove, making you scream as it rolls down half the store with you still on it. Thankfully it doesn’t flip over.

By the time it’s over and an exhausted college student checks your items out, two hours have passed and you’re not exactly sure what he bought.

“Are you hungry?” Hoseok suddenly asks as you leave the store and you follow his line of vision to the fast food restaurant next door.

You hum for a second with a tiny smile and he waits for your answer with a pout, slowly becoming more exaggerated with more time that passes. “I guesssssssssss I could grab a bite.”

“Let’s go~!” He declares in an opera voice, holding up the bag of groceries as you laugh.

The both of you stare at the menu for a while until you finally order, the restaurant having one cashier looking bored out of their mind, scrolling on their phone. There’s a drunk couple giggling in one corner and a homeless man reading the newspaper in the other. You and Hoseok steal a booth next to the windows.

He protests when you steal his fries but then he swipes your drink and sips it. You sit on your knees, lunging at him from across the table and giving him a good old noogie, despite his loud giggles. Hoseok feeds you chicken nuggets, purposely missing your mouth and getting ketchup all over your lips. As he laughs, you slap him with a fry that goes flinging across the restaurant.

“Oops.” You give him a fake smile, wiping away your mouth on a napkin and he gapes at you. With a loud ahem from the cashier, noticing how you’ve thrown food, the two of you shoot an apology and he goes back to scrolling through his phone, not really caring.

You’re sure you look like a mess - the hair you styled is now completely flat and sticking upwards, your makeup completely smudged, making you look like a racoon with your dark circles showing through and your dress now stained with mustard. But unlike how Jaebum wouldn’t want to touch you while you’re in such a state, Hoseok doesn’t even seem to notice. He continues teasing you and laughing as if nothing’s out of the ordinary.

Truthfully, he secretly even likes it better that you’re messy.

“Holy shit.” You’re back in his car, turning on your phone after shutting it off hours earlier. “It’s six in the morning!”

“Really?” He shoots you a glance and a grin of disbelief before looking over his shoulder to signal to the next lane.

“What the hell?” You laugh as if it’s the second funniest thing that’s happened all day (the first being in the movie theater and Hoseok’s screaming). “I swear….how does time pass so quickly when I’m with you.”

“Y/N.” Hoseok says seriously, brows knitting together.

“What?” You put your phone down, staring at his profile.

“I need to tell you the truth.”

“What is it?”

There’s a long silence before there’s a drawn out sigh that leaves his lips.

“I’m a time warper.”

“Oh, shut up!” You giggle, pushing his arm.

“YAH!” He shouts, startling you. “Can you not see I’m driving?!”

“Sorry.” You can’t help the smile that raises on your lips. “Oh. I think the sun’s going to rise soon.”

There’s a pause as you stare up through the windshield at the faint blue sky sheathing the stars and shattering the darkness through wisps of sunlight, the moon already fallen. There’s a dullness in your bones, a sort of exhaustion that has settled all around your body but you aren’t sleepy or tired in the least bit. Instead, you feel wide awake and more alert than you’ve ever felt before, taking a glance at Hoseok.

“Do you want to watch the sunrise?” He asks in a smile, taking a glance too before turning back onto the road.

“That would be nice.”

And as if your words were his command, he pulls over on the highway. The both of you get out of the car, leaning against the railing as you watch the sunrise from across the high rise buildings. There’s no one around, no cars moving past but a comfortable silence and peacefulness that couldn’t be broken with pins dropping onto the pavement.

The day is breaking, dawn rising and the bright sun erupts from the horizon within minutes. When you turn to Hoseok, you find him already staring at you. It takes less than a heartbeat for a gentle smile to burst on his lips and one that makes your chest ache, not painfully for once.

The luminescence of rays casts a warm glow onto his skin and neither of you can break the gaze. “Are you ready to go?” He calls out softly, waltzing you away from your trance.

You can only manage a slight nod before getting back into the car in silence, any other thought disappearing inside your mind. Without him, you would’ve gone home and wallowed alone in tears while questioning what you ever did wrong. You can’t help but feel thankful for Hoseok being there for you and at the same time, pondering what else it is that you feel.

Whatever it is, it’s making your heart flutter uncontrollably.

Zero phone calls, zero texts, zero apologies - you were ashamed to admit that this wasn’t unusual. You even wondered if Jaebum even knew that the both of you had a date, that he had forgotten and how you were left in the dust, on the side of the road. After the two years you had spent together was this it? Where did you go wrong? Was there anything that you could’ve done more of to save your relationship? At what point did he stop loving you? At what point did he stop caring? And at what point would you finally be able to let him go?

Hoseok receives a few messages from you, a back and forth light conversation but he can tell how hurt you are with your slow and unenthusiastic responses. You certainly don’t give into his teasing or even play along with it. And after receiving yet another angry phone call from Jaebum as to why you were still hung up on him, Hoseok knew that he had to end your suffering. It pained him to see you with such a guy who completely disregarded you and made you so unhappy. He couldn’t stand by and watch anymore - even if it pained him more that he was the one who had to say it.

“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”

There’s some stiff laughter on the other line that he knows is all too fake. “You’re talking to me now.”

“In person.”

“I don’t really feel like leaving the house, Hoseok.”

“Please….it’s really important.”

There’s a long silence before you clear your throat. “Where?”

It’s the same coffee shop that the both of you coincidentally reunited at, the same table in the corner and the same position in seats. There’s not many people around but the occasional chime of the bell when a customer enters for an order.

Hoseok sits down from across the table, directly in front of you without even a trace of his usual playfulness. There is no smile, no grin, no dimples and it’s starting to scare you. “What’s wrong?” You manage a tight smile that strains your cheeks.

He doesn’t answer except for his eyes flickering to yours, boring in a serious stare that makes your palms clammy. “You’re scaring me…” You admit in a weaker voice and he sighs, digging in his pocket for something.

“Remember how you asked me where I worked and I sort of brushed you off?”

“Yeah?”

He pulls out a business card, sliding it over to you. It reads in big letters - ‘The Breakup Bureau’.

“Hoseok…”

He throws out every single rule that he’s ever learnt, every single proper way to end a relationship with minimal damage and instead, he speaks straight from the heart.

“The day we ran into each other coincidentally wasn’t coincidentally. I was hired by your boyfriend, Jaebum, to-”

“-break up with me.” You laugh out without it reaching your eyes, holding the thin business card between your fingers. Your voice can only manage a tiny whisper that chokes through your constricting throat. “The bastard couldn’t even do it himself.”

Hoseok grimaces, rubbing his hands over his thighs and repressing the urge to hold yours in comfort. “Y/N, I truly mean it when I say it...you deserve the best. You seriously deserve everything and more.”

“Yeah…” You nod gradually, still staring as the words of the business card as it entrenches into your mind.

‘The Breakup Bureau’.

“Do you know why?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “He didn’t say anything.”

“Was there someone else?”

There’s a long silence before Hoseok decides to be as honest as he can. “Probably.”

All the words slowly sink into your skin and it feels like the entire world has been ripped away, only you falling back into your seat with Hoseok on the other side. It physically pains him to see you breaking into pieces while he’s completely helpless right in front of you. It’s as if you’re glass shattering between his fingertips.

He’s holding back his own tears from spilling.

It’s worse than he had ever imagined. It’s his worst nightmare.

He can’t help but think that if it were him...if it were him….he would never make you feel this way. Hoseok would rather die than hurt you.

“You’ll meet someone who can make you happy.” His voice cracks as he speaks and he bites back, slowly taking a deep breath as he blinks back his hazy eyes. He speaks sincerely and genuinely, the most he has in years. “You’ll meet someone who will love you more than they can ever imagine. To the point that it’ll scare them.”

“Is it really over then?” You whisper and he nods with a weak voice.

“Yes.”

You laugh. You laugh because there’s nothing more that you can do. Hoseok wishes you would curse, scream or vow revenge but instead you sit calmly and quietly, crumbling from within. “I’m sorry he brought you into the middle of this. He should’ve done it himself...”

“I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“I don’t think you can really control that.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It isn’t yours either…” You smile. “...so don’t look at me like that.”

If a stranger were to look on, they would think that the two of you were the ones going through the breakup. The expression Hoseok gives you is one of pure distress and hurt. You think his smile or grin suits him a lot more, dimples on both sides of his cheeks; you have a sudden urge to see it.

With a sigh, you get up from the table. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” You answer truthfully.

“Then tell me you’ll be okay.”

You shake your head, heart aching with pain. “Time will tell.”

As you step foot out of the coffee shop, you turn back to Hoseok who’s still following you with his eyes and the knot between his brows is still knitted deep in worry. You smile softly at him, mustering up a wave. “Goodbye Hoseok.”

Maybe you should’ve been less dense. The signs were all there but you brushed them off as nothing, hoping that it would get better or somehow things would improve. He didn’t treat you the way you knew you deserved, he didn’t care as much as you did. Somewhere along the way, things had gone amiss but you purposely turned a blind eye.

“Y/N? W-what are you doing here?” Jaebum stands shocked in his living room, barely covered in clothes.

“Who is it?” A voice belonging to a woman echos from his bedroom.

You sigh with a shake of your head, cutting straight to the point. “You’re a coward. You should’ve told me yourself.”

“I-I….” He blinks at you with wide eyes, shell shocked and maybe a bit embarrassed or ashamed. You can’t believe you spent two years with an asshole like him. “I..uh...sorry?”

You smile at him and he is absolutely stunned. “You know, I wondered a lot where things went wrong between us. I spent a lot of nights by myself, just thinking about it and I cried too.” You shake your head with another gentle exhale. “I’m not proud of wasting those tears on you but you know, I really don’t think I did anything wrong.”

You face him, eyes connected without wavering for a second. “I loved you and I cared about you so much. There wasn’t even a moment that went by that I didn’t think of you...until recently.”

“Y/N…” He’s shocked, at an absolute loss for words.

“I hope you live well.” You turn to his bedroom. “And treat whoever she is, you should treat her well too. Don’t be a coward in your next relationship. If there’s something you want to say, you should just say it.”

“Have a good life, Jaebum.” You smile again. “Maybe I’ll see you around someday. Bye.”

And you leave without a second glance back, shutting his front door softly before walking off.

It takes multiple deep breaths for you to calm down and you nearly trip on the stairwell, catching yourself on the railing and sitting down at the steps. Your chest is tight, nearly feeling like it will burst and you feel like your throat is closing up, that you’ll suffocate to death. It’s painful but you don’t feel sad at all.

It surprises you and certainly surprises Jaebum. You’ve imagined it happening before, that you would be a complete mess and run into his apartment screaming. You’d thrash and break his things, throw everything away and sob until your eyes would run dry. You’d think of ways to make him feel guilty, ways to take your revenge and ways that would possibly bring him back.

But more than grief-stricken and heartbroken, you feel disappointed in yourself for being such an idiot and wasting your time.

You would’ve been completely lost and broken but you’re not.

You only have Hoseok to thank.

[A Few Months Later]

The sweet aroma of vanilla and bitter scent of coffee swirls through the air. The bell chimes to signal each customer entering or leaving. The low chatter continues, the cashier taking people’s orders and barista mixing drinks. The sunlight seeps into the windows and smiling doesn’t take too much strength anymore.

“Caramel macchiato for….” The worker squints at the cup before announcing loudly- “...for Hobi, Hobi, Hobi~?”

“I’m here.” He jogs up from his spot at the table, putting his phone in his back pocket. “Thanks.”

“Hoseok?” You turn around with a grin, coincidentally waiting for your drink too.

“Y/N?” He matches your bright smile, eyes crinkling and dimples on both sides of his cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“Ordering something before heading off to work.” You laugh. “Did you seriously say your name was Hobi-Hobi-Hobi?”

He shrugs mischievously. “I thought why not.”

You shake your head with a huge smile before the barista calls out- “White chocolate mocha latte for Y/N?”

“I’m here.” You smile at her. “Thanks.”

As you grab your drink, both you and Hoseok begin walking down the street together, heading in the same direction. With your curious glance, he lets you have a sip of his drink and you let him take a sip of yours. Somehow the both of you end up trading completely but he doesn’t mind and neither do you.

“Hey. You still owe me one.”

“What?” He grins warmly.

“From that time you dragged me to a horror movie!” You fake a pout as he laughs. “Remember?”

“I remember.”

“Then what do you think of tonight?” You lean in, blinking your eyes and batting your eyelashes. “If you’re not busy, take me out to another one and maybe we can call it even.”

He beams at you. “But what if I want to take you out to dinner too?”

“Then I’ll owe you one.” You shrug. “Guess I’d have to take you out for dinner another day after that. What do you say?”

Hoseok hums a really long note, making you wait in anticipation until you stop walking completely, no longer smiling but giving him an unimpressed expression. He laughs before pouting at you and then a smile bursts through his lips. “I’d love to.”

Saying goodbye is never easy.

Hoseok’s just glad he never has to do it with you.

#bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fluff #bts hoseok #bts hoseok scenario #bts hoseok fanfic #bts hoseok fluff #:)#:D

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iwantthedean · 7 years

Text

Angel Among Us (Finale)

Sequel to The Demon’s Pet.

Part Ten: Choice

Word Count: 2385

Pairing: MoC!DeanxOFC

Summary: Dean and Zephaniah’s story continues as he fights against The Mark of Cain taking hold, and she avoids waging war with Heaven.

Warnings: Language, character death. Canon-typical violence.

Masterlist

A/N: Another series down! This is the finale for Angels Among Us, but there will be another installment to this story! Thank you to everyone who has followed the first two installments; I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, this story is very near and dear to my heart. Your support means the world!

In the hours since he had left the bunker, Dean had considered returning a handful of times. He knew that if he did return, it would be Zephaniah’s undoing. He could not let himself be the death of her, so, despite the urge to stay close to her, Dean left the picture on her pillow and left with the Impala.

His plan was sketchy at best. The way Dean figured it, he was the only being with The Mark on Earth anymore. No one could kill him; he would come back as a demon again. As freeing as that experience had been, it had carried a lot of awful things with it as well. His only option was to go to some place where no one could find him, and where he could no longer harm anyone, be it directly or indirectly. He was going to need some help with that.

Dean drove to a bar several hours outside of Lebanon. He set up the spell to summon Death on the trunk of the Impala, then went inside to wait.

Zephaniah brought the picture to Sam as soon as she could move herself from the spot in Dean’s room where she had been frozen for several minutes as she tried to process that Dean had left them in the time they needed him the most.

“Where could he possibly have gone?” Zephaniah demanded. “We are about to be in the middle of a war with Heaven, and he bails!”

Sam set the picture on the table and crossed his arms over his chest. “When are you going to realize that everything Dean does – okay, most things Dean does, is because he thinks it’s what’s best for you? He has done the same for me since he was four years old, Zeph. Dean take a burden on himself and he won’t unshoulder it until he’s the one who has taken care of it. My guess is, he’s off trying to do exactly what you did when you lied and told him you weren’t safe for him, or went off to Israel.”

Zephaniah’s shoulders slumped. “Why now, Sam? Why now, when we need him more than ever to just be with us?”

Sam shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. All I know is that we have to be ready for this, with or without him, so when he does come back – and I know he will, he always does – we’re still standing.”

Zephaniah nodded. She picked up the picture and turned away from Sam, intent on taking the picture back to Dean’s room. Before she could get more than a few steps away, the walls of the bunker began to shake. The floor beneath her feet was still, so Zephaniah knew it wasn’t an earthquake. She shoved the picture in her pocket and, turning a deaf ear to Sam’s yells for her to come back, ran to Dean’s room for the Dies Irae.

She was going to need it.

The bartender refilled Dean’s drink and asked if he was sure the person he was waiting on was going to show.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t,” Dean shrugged. “He always does.”

“Not this time.”

Dean turned towards the voice sitting next to him; it was familiar but he couldn’t place it until he laid eyes on the vessel sitting next to him.

“Gabriel?”

With a snap of Gabriel’s fingers, everyone else in the bar disappeared. “Long time no see, Dean. How’s tricks?”

“I might ask you the same damn thing,” Dean retorted. “And as much as I’m absolutely ecstatic about this little reunion, I’m waiting on someone. So you’ll have to forgive me if I take a raincheck.”

Gabriel tossed an empty peanut shell over the counter. “Right, Death. Not coming.”

“Excuse me?”

“Death is not coming to meet you today,” Gabriel said.

Dean raised his brow. “Any particular reason why?”

Gabriel turned on his barstool to face Dean. “Because today is not your day to die. It’s not your day to run away, either. I know what’s going on with Zephaniah and Nathaniel and the war that’s coming. Do you really think that extracting yourself from the equation will stop it?”

“I do, actually. Isn’t that what this war is about? Zephaniah refusing to help them stop me?”

Gabriel snorted. “If only it were that simple. Zephaniah killed three angels. She goes against the natural order of things at nearly every turn. I’m not saying I don’t agree with her for the most part, don’t get me wrong.”

“Then what are you saying?” Dean pressed.

Gabriel looked him directly in the eye. “I’m saying that this war isn’t just about you anymore. Nathaniel is a peacekeeper, and Zephaniah does not keep the peace. He wants to stop her. The only way to do that, is to take her down.”

“But if she’s killed, everyone around her dies, too.”

“That’s a risk Nathaniel is willing to take, for the greater good.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “My brothers have good intentions, but they’re idiots in the way they go about things. Dad’s not around to keep them in control, so they take matters into their own hands.”

Dean finished off his drink. “You’re saying I should go back.”

Gabriel tilted his head. “I’m strongly encouraging it. We’ve got to account for free will here.”

Dean shook his head and let out a small chuckle. “So why you, Gabe? Why the trickster?”

“I wasn’t always a trickster,” Gabriel reminded. “I was once the Messenger of the Lord. This is important enough, Dean, I’ve been called to that again.”

“And what’s the message? Don’t give up?”

“Yeah, don’t give up,” Gabriel said, “because if you give up, Zephaniah is done for. She’s right when she tells you that the two of you aren’t soulmates – you’re something more than that. When God saw that the chain of human events would eventually lead to this, you were already in the plan. He knew that you would need someone to fight next to you, and that it needed to be someone more than Sam. It was then that he created Zephaniah.”

Dean’s brow fell into a quizzical expression. “She was made for me?”

“She was made for you. The pull between the two of you is not only The Mark. Yes, The Darkness wants Zephaniah’s soul, but the connection between the two of you was made the day you rescued her from that warehouse. You can walk away from Sam – you can, and you have. You’ve left him on his own, thinking it was what was better for him. Zephaniah on the other hand – you will always go back to her.”

Dean thought on all of that for a few moments before sliding off the barstool. “Thanks, Gabriel. Let’s just hope she believes me when she hears all of this.”

Gabriel gave him a single nod, calling Dean back before he reached the door. “I would hurry if I were you.”

The archangel didn’t have to go into detail for Dean to read the meaning in the statement. Dean hurried out to the Impala, fishtailing out of the parking lot and speeding down the highway towards the bunker.

Castiel, Rowena, and Crowley had joined Sam by the time Zephaniah returned with her knife. They stood in a close circle, watching as the warding on the bunkers walls glowed before plaster and brick began to fall, breaking the sigils. Their glow faded out, and the door of the bunker fell with a loud thud.

A group of ten angels entered the bunker, and Zephaniah assumed that the one leading the group was Nathaniel. Her countenance portrayed strength and courage, but her heartbeat and rapid breath betrayed her.

“You can still give this up, Zephaniah. Your chance has not entirely passed. Heaven is still willing to take on your acceptance of the mission to stop The Darkness from being released,” Nathaniel told her.

Zephaniah shook her head. “When I told Josiah I would not betray Dean the first time I was dragged to Heaven about this matter, I meant it. That answer was not a rash decision, an initial reply while I thought things over. My answer is the same.”

“In that case,” Nathaniel began, his angel blade slipping into his hand, “you put the fate of your life into our hands.”

“So be it.”

There was a moment of calm before Nathaniel struck out at her, as there always was before a fight like this began. The angels accompanying Nathaniel spread out to take on her cohorts, leaving their leader to deal with the true problem.

She was able to dodge most of Nathaniel’s strikes. The ones he was able to land were painful but not fatal. Zephaniah couldn’t get close enough to him to use the Dies Irae, and her frustration with that fact was quickly turning to anger. True to form, her anger spurred her on and she was able to land one solid gash to Nathaniel’s arm.

“Not bad,” the angel chuckled, “for a human.”

He lunged at her again, and Zephaniah narrowly evaded the attack. Her instinct told her she needed help, but a quick glance around the room told her that the rest of those on her side were dealing with saving their own lives at the moment.

Zephaniah had to do something. Changing her grip on the knife, she ran at Nathaniel, tackling him to the ground. It was clear that the wound from the Dies Irae was draining his power, little by little, and Zephaniah could see that they were becoming more and more evenly matched as the blood continued to drip from Nathaniel’s arm.

She had the blade in her hand poised over the angel’s heart when her attention was momentarily stolen by the man coming down the stairs, running towards her and calling her name.

“Dean,” Zephaniah breathed, unable to control the smile tugging at her lips.

Her distraction would be her downfall. Nathaniel took advantage of her divided attentions and shoved his angel blade into her side. Her eyes went wide as she fell away, gripping the site of the new wound, and the world around them began to quake like never before.

Seeing that the majority of the other angels had been overtaken, Nathaniel ordered those remaining to retreat with him. Zephaniah was nearly dead anyway; their job here was done.

The pain began to fade and fingers of cold crept over Zephaniah’s entire body. She gurgled and coughed as blood welled up from her belly and dribbled out of her mouth.

“Zeph, look at me,” Dean said, rushing to her side and pulled her into a sitting position. “Hey, look at me. You’re going to be all right.”

“It’s over now,” Zephaniah said between struggling breaths. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

More bricks and plaster fell from the ceiling. Lamps crashed from tables and books tumbled off of shelves. No one could stand anymore, as the ground beneath them tossed and turned.

“I’m the one who couldn’t save you,” Dean said. “I’m so sorry. This is on me. It’s all on me.”

“You can’t stay here. You have to go,” Zephaniah ordered him. She was beginning to gasp for breaths between words, and the rafters from the ceiling were cracking apart, preparing to come down on them any second.

“I won’t leave you,” Dean promised, kissing her forehead and pushing the hair out of her face.

Zephaniah glanced at his arm and saw it – The Mark of Cain. The thing that had gotten them here today. She could let them all die, let Heaven win, or she could sacrifice herself to save them all.

It took the last of the energy Zephaniah had to reach out and grip Dean’s arm, her hand firm over The Mark.

“Yes,” she said.

Dean frowned, and Zephaniah knew he didn’t understand what was happening. That was all for the best, she decided, as reality began to fade, and Zephaniah slipped away into nothingness.

By some sort of miracle, the bunker was restored nearly the same moment that Zephaniah had uttered her last word. Dean still wished he could have made out what she was saying, that he could have made some sense of that last moment with her.

Her body was laid out on his bed now. He had sat by her for hours, waiting for it all to be a horrible nightmare. No matter how hard Dean prayed, how long he waited, Zephaniah did not stir.

The argument with Sam and Castiel over burying her or burning her was perhaps the most intense Dean had had with his brother and best friend. He refused to give her a hunter’s funeral; burning her body meant that there was no bringing her back. Perhaps he would further damn himself in the process, but Dean knew that he could not go on without Zephaniah.

He returned to his room, prepared to carry her outside of the bunker where they had all agreed Zephaniah would be buried, but she was gone. Her limp body was no longer weighing on his mattress.

Panicked, Dean spun around to alert Sam and Castiel, but the very being of his concern stopped him in his tracks.

“Hello, Dean.”

Zephaniah’s smile was hers. Her voice was hers, and her hair and her body. The clothes were her own, the way she did her makeup. Dean’s heart relaxed, until his mind could process the two things Zephaniah now possessed that had not belonged to her before.

Reaching for that familiar spot on his arm, Dean realized The Mark was gone. It was now situated comfortably just below Zephaniah’s collar bone, given away by the low-cut shirt she was wearing.

Yes.

Dean replayed the moment just before Zephaniah died in his mind. Her grip on his arm, right where The Mark had been, and her last word.

Yes.

Zephaniah had said yes to The Mark, and then she had died – only for as long as The Mark would allow. She had come back, but the Zephaniah standing in front of Dean now was not the Zephaniah he knew. No, this was a new Zephaniah, one with The Mark of Cain burned into her chest and eyes Dean didn’t recognize staring back at him.

Those demonic, black eyes.

#superntural #fanfiction #angels among us #part 10 #finale #choice #dean #dean winchester #ofc #dean x ofc #stop ofc impartiality #zephaniah jordan #dean x zeph #series finale #spnfanficpond #jellyfish #iwantthedeanupdates #iwantthedean's tag team #all my lovelies

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james-bionic-barnes · 7 years

Text

Friendly Neighborhood Bucky

Summary: You and Bucky are neighbors, speaking only to say hi to each other. But when a spider appears in your bathtub, Bucky comes to your rescue.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: ~1800

Warnings: Language, & a spider (but Bucky comes to your rescue).

Based off of a list of prompts/au’s: “this is totally awkward considering before this the only interactions we’ve ever had have been casual nods to each other in the hallway but there’s a huge fucking spider in my bath tub and you seem like the friendly neighbor type please help me” au

A/N: I’m really stuck on my new series so here’s this random one-shot to have something new out there. Hope you enjoy :) Also, sorry the formatting is a little messed up?? I can’t get it to work no matter what I do. It’s correct in the document but not after posting.

Trudging up the stairs to your apartment, you feel heavier and heavier with every step you take. Your day hasn’t exactly been the best – for one, work had been incredibly busy, all the work you were doing causing your entire body to ache, and your head to hurt from all the yelling your boss threw at you during the chaos. Every metallic clang of your boots hitting the steps just makes your head pound that much more – no matter how softly you step. And not to mention you are absolutely drenched. Mother Nature decided on your walk home that you could use a second shower, and so it practically deluged on you, soaking you completely, even through your coat. You are soggy and cold and all you want to do is take a nice, calming bath to get over your shitty day.

When you reach the hallway leading down to your apartment, you sigh in relief – you’re almost home free. Just a few more feet and you’ll be home, in your own little bubble, where there’s no one yelling at you, no customers demanding the impossible from you, where you can relax in peace.

But, of course, fate decides you need a bit more crap in your day, so you see your neighbor walking up the other set of stairs opposite of you. It’s too late to duck behind the corner – he’s already in the hallway with you. Looks like you’re facing him head on.

“Hey,” he greets warmly as he always does, stepping up to his apartment door as he begins to unlock it.

“Hi,” you respond, trying to keep your head down – you’re sure running mascara and soaked hair isn’t a very good look for you. Nevertheless, you make it inside your apartment (after dropping your keys trying to unlock the door, of course) and slump against the door with a huge sigh. You’re more than ready for this shitty day to be over and for the good parts of the day to take over – but it appears it’ll be a struggle to get to that point. The bad things kept walking right up to you, it seemed.

The day you moved in to this apartment complex, you ran into your neighbor as you were carrying boxes up. You literally ran into him. As you were struggling to keep the box you were carrying upright, you rushed down the hall and didn’t see him coming. Luckily, after the two of you collided, he managed to stop you from falling, as well as stopping the box from dropping. You looked up to thank him, your eyes meeting his dark blue ones. Naturally, you were lost for a moment, and you didn’t hear him asking you if you were all right. You managed to come back to reality after probably a very awkward silence, and you smiled at him, thanking him and practically sprinting into your apartment out of sheer embarrassment.

It was only after you replayed the event in your head later that day that you realized that he seemed a bit familiar to you – and when you remembered how hard his left arm felt against your waist, the pieces came together, allowing your scrambled brain to realize that your neighbor was none other than the Winter Soldier. Why he was living in an apartment complex instead of at the Avenger’s Compound was a mystery to you. But he seemed nice enough, and he never caused too much noise, so you didn’t mind.

You and Bucky never talk apart from greeting each other whenever you see one another in the hallway. But those little moments are wonderful – in your mind, anyway. His smile is one of the best things you have ever seen. Plus, occasionally, he’ll either be leaving for or coming back from a mission, so there are some days you see him in some of his combat clothes – naturally, he wouldn’t walk through an apartment complex with all his weapons visible, but you’re sure they are somewhere on him. You have to admit he looks good in leather. You’re honestly sure he’d look good in a potato sack.

Doing your best to clear your head of Bucky, you let your bag fall to the floor as you peel off your coat, letting that drop too, continuing to walk toward your bathroom as you strip off the layers of clothing on you. You’ll pick them up later – right now, you need to get your bath started – this will be what will make your shitty day disappear and will relax you enough to let you just fall asleep. You grab some of your scented candles and light them to help create the relaxing atmosphere you want this bathroom to have. Before stripping down out of your undershirt and leggings, you reach down to close the drain on the tub.

And come face-to-face with a massive spider.

Well, maybe not a huge one – it’s no bigger than your palm, but the fact remains that it’s there and it’s practically staring you down, as if it’s the last test in your shitty day, as though it’s just daring you to try and do something to make you feel better. You hate spiders, and so, naturally, you let out a quick scream in reaction, flailing backwards. Luckily, you don’t trip over anything and manage to back up toward your vanity counter, putting a bit more distance between you and the monster.

You hear a loud series of knocks on your door, and before you can even answer, your door is being kicked open. Your scream gets stuck in your throat from the shock of seeing Bucky running into your apartment, holding a gun. He’s still dressed in some of his combat gear, but you notice his jacket is missing, revealing just a fitted black athletic shirt. His eyes glance around the apartment before locking onto yours, and narrowing slightly in confusion – but you’re the one who’s really confused. You’re relieved at the fact it’s him and not a murderer, but still you’re confused.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I heard you scream, what’s wrong?

“Uh… yeah, I’m okay. Well, kind of. I just have a small intruder in my home. N-not a person or anything, just a spider,” you quickly add after seeing Bucky’s expression at the prospect of someone actually being in your apartment. He sighs, tucking the gun behind his back after you finish.

“You mean to say… you only screamed because of a spider?” Bucky asks, folding his arms across his chest.

“Don’t you dare judge me,” you reply, pointing a finger at him, and then at your broken door. “You broke down my door because of a spider. And it’s not like it’s a tiny one, it’s a massive one.”

He rolls his eyes, laughing. “Excuse me for thinking my neighbor was being attacked. I’ll fix your door, I promise. Or cover the cost for it if I can’t fix it.”

You nod. “Good. But since you’re here so ready to defend me, will you please remove that monster from my bathtub? You don’t have to kill it, but just… relocate it far away from here.”

Bucky laughs again as he uncrosses his arms, stepping past you and into your bathroom. He’s silent for a few moments before he speaks. “I’m not finding it.”

“Oh, hell no. I’m moving, I’m out of here,” you say, backing up out of the bathroom.

“Okay, okay, I’m kidding. Wow. You must really hate spiders,” Bucky says, bending down to reach into the bathtub.

“I think I hate you more right now,” you reply, staring at him angrily, but nonetheless playfully – even with him joking around with such a serious matter such as an eight-legged monster in your bathtub, you can’t help but smile a bit. He just has that effect on you, it seems.

Bucky walks past you, his hands cupped together to keep the spider from escaping as he slips through the door, disappearing for a few moments. He returns with a sigh, his hands empty, thankfully.

“Your little intruder has been successfully relocated to a dark corner on the second floor,” Bucky tells you. “You can rest easily now.”

Sighing in relief, you smile softly up at him. “Thank you. Even though you did break down my door.”

“Oh, speaking of which, let me get to fixing that,” he replies. “I’m just going to go grab some stuff from my apartment.”

You start up a pot of coffee for the both of you as you pick up your clothes and change into some dry ones. Way to make a great first impression, Y/N, dirty clothes everywhere and freaking out over a spider. Great job, he’ll totally fall in love. Well, he did kick down my door. We’re even, I guess.

Bucky returns a couple minutes later, a toolkit in hand. He kneels in front of your door, starting to work on repairing the door jamb.

“I’m sure this wasn’t what you were expecting today,” Bucky says. You shrug, hopping up onto your kitchen counter as you watch him.

“Oddly enough, it’s not that surprising. My day has been terrible, life just needed to throw a few other things at me,” you reply. “But I will admit, you breaking down my door, gun in hand, was very unexpected. So props to you.”

Bucky laughs again, shaking his head as he turns to look at you. “I was prepared to shoot whatever I needed to. Didn’t think the threat would be a spider, though, so you surprised me too.”

“Spiders are threatening. Well, I don’t hate them, I’m just scared of them,” you replied. “Is the Winter Soldier afraid of any creepy crawly creatures?”

He shrugged. “Bugs don’t bother me. Snakes are a little sketchy. Cool, but sketchy.”

You smile. “Huh. Okay. So you’ll go into a firefight and risk your life constantly, but get a little jumpy when you see a snake?”

Bucky laughs. “Says the girl who screams when she sees a spider.” He closes the door, opening it and locking it to double check that it’s fixed before wiping his hands, turning to you. “You know, I’m pretty sure you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

Smiling, you hop off the counter, extending out a hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, shaking your hand. Your skin practically buzzes at the contact, and you can’t help but blush a little as he smiles down at you. He bends down, picking up the toolkit. “And you know where to find me if you ever need rescuing from spiders again.”

“What if it’s to ask if you want to get a cup of coffee or something?” you ask him. You’re not sure where the flirty demeanor comes from, but you’ll take it while you have it, especially if a guy like Bucky is standing in front of you.

He smirks, opening your door. “Well, if that’s the case, then I’ll be waiting for a knock on my door, doll.”

As Bucky shuts your door behind him, your hand still buzzing from touching his and the blush still prominent in your cheeks, you know you would gladly take on more spiders if it meant Bucky coming to your rescue.

Tags: (If you’d like to be added to my permanent tag list, just send me an ask or message! Spots are always open!) @hymnofthevalkyries @xenaathena @tol-sam @caplanbuckybarnes @andhiseyesweregreen @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @angryschnauzer @pandarosita @lilasiannerd @heismyhunter @ailynalonso15 @lillian-paige @monsis-world @winterboobaer @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @magpiegirl80 @cojootromuelle @stovehairington @nyecl @rainbowfez @dontfuckwithkezolas @dare-to-dream-about-1d @hettledettle @dont-let-me-go-again @iwillbeinmynest @preppydetective @feelmyroarrrr @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes @namelessdecoy @oxblood-is-a-creative-color @reniescarlett @i-kneel-for-king-loki @xllxni @oneshot-shit @simplyme8308 @mizzzpink @harleyqueen7 @callalilyiskewl @thyotakukimkim @palaiasaurus64 @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #marvel imagine #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #reader insert

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thetoffeefox · 7 years

Text

A Break and A Bouquet of Lilies

I’m on a streak today!! I just finished this one after a long on and off again writing phase hope you guys enjoy!!

NOTE: Aslaug is my OC and no one has permission to use her for any and all purposes. Nakura belongs to @nakuravanner any and all questions regarding him should be asked to them not me.

Aslaug looked on in awe as she watched a man buy his female companion flowers from the stand across from them. She wondered if anyone had ever got her flowers before she lost her memories. Honestly, she wondered what her life was like before she lost them. Did she live in a big village like this? Or was it small and off ways? Or maybe she lived in a den with a close family like Cherry did. She couldn’t imagine having a mate, but from how February acted most of her kind at Aslaug’s age were already settled down and had at least one litter of kits already. Cherry countered on Aslaug’s age for the simple factor that it has been almost a year since Aslaug had been traveling with Nakura and not once has she went into heat. Her size didn’t pan out to that theory though, so the only logical explanation was, that she was possibly barren. She didn’t want to think such a thing. After all, any female of any species always dreamed of having young ones. Shaking her head slightly she ducks into Cherry’s all too familiar flower booth.

“Aslaug it’s been awhile, I take it Nakura and February are browsing through the market?” Slate states.

Slate was a long time friend of Cherry, over the course of knowing the little rabbit they had gotten to know Slate as well and it was obvious a certain young vixen had developed quite the crush on him, but Aslaug wasn’t going to pester February too much on that. She did wonder though if Slate could tell and was being polite or if he simply honest to God didn’t see the adoring looks the young girl has been giving him over the months.

“You know how they are always one to make sure they’re prepared.” She laughs while gently observing a Lily in full bloom.

“Someone has to be in charge of basic supplies or all of us would go hungry.” Nakura’s voice makes her head snap to the side as a bright smile comes to her face.

“C’monnn can’t we at least just have a treat once in awhile?” A pout comes to her features.

“Don’t you indulge enough on the bugs you eat?...” He grumbles.

Normally the comment about her bug eating habits wouldn’t bother her at all, but something about his tone made her twinge. She stopped going after the red beetles right after he told her they were poisonous, what else did he want from her? It’s worse enough they’ve barely had any proper sleep.

“Aslaug is right Nakura, maybe we should just take a day to relax.” February’s head popped into the tent her big blue eyes boring up at the gypsy wolf.

“See even February is exhausted maybe we could just stay here for a night.” Aslaug states.

“We don’t have time.” He states looking at both of them while getting irritated with the situation.

“We need to make the time Nakura, she’s a child she gets exhausted quicker than we do,” Aslaug states feeling a turn come out into her words.

“It’s not safe to stay here, it will never be safe to stay in this big of a village as long as your…”Nakura pauses, but instantly his sentence is cut off.

“As long I’M WHAT?! AROUND?!” She yells out making February shrink back.

“Now, now you two don’t you think you're being a bit illogical here. Let’s calm down.” Slate gets between them.

Honestly, he’s surprised the two haven’t got into an argument sooner from how February has been speaking as of late. If he would have known any better he’d say this Shepherdstone character they seem to try to constantly avoid is actually hoping something like this would happen.

“Has the notion of me trying to protect you even registered in your mind yet!!” He hollers back at her.

“Are you because if I didn’t know any better I’d say here lately you’ve done nothing but try and parent me!!” She shouts taking a step closer.

“Maybe I am because you keep putting your head in clouds.” Hissing he closes in as well.

“Excuse me then, for trying to have some light hearted moments so I can feel like I at least living a relatively normal life!!” She growls out

“You're never going to have a normal life again!! The sooner you realize your past is the past the better off you’ll be!!” He snarls invading her personal space.

It gets quiet and that’s when he notices that not only has their argument drawn some onlookers but that he probably went way too far. He takes a glance at Slate who is looking at him like he killed someone's pet. Quickly he looks back at Aslaug, her mouth is straight and her breathing is even, but he see’s the slight tremor in her shoulders. He notes the tears starting to prick the corner of her eyes. He opens his mouth to try and say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

“Screw you.” She whimpers out pushing him out of the way to leave the tent.

It’s minutes before he can even move yet alone say anything. It appeared that February had long since left as well. That’s when a more important thought entered his mind, Did he really see her as a burden? No...that’s not possible it couldn’t be. Yes, she could be a bit of a handful. She was loud, whiny, and really couldn’t see past her nose, but a burden? The change in lighting snaps him from his thoughts to see Slate has closed the tent to give them privacy.

“Sigh, you really screwed up, this is exactly why you guys need a break. You're exhausted from running and exhausted from each other.” Slate states leaning against one of the tables.

He thinks for a moment trying to recall a moment when he and Aslaug had ever just taken a break for an entire day...never….for almost a year they had been on the run non-stop. They haven’t taken a single moment to enjoy themselves or distract themselves from the stress and turmoil of being hunted down and on that note, it wasn’t really even him being hunted it was Aslaug. He couldn’t possibly imagine how she felt about her whole entire situation, A young vixen who remembers nothing but her name on the run from a madman who wants her magic that she barely understands but possibly at one point did so. He growls frustrated with himself while digging the heel of his foot in the ground. He was way out of line, who was to say her life was normal before he found her? The circumstances of how he found her were sketchy in the first place and he had let her known about it. He basically rubbed salt in the wound.

“Look from past experience most girls do good with an apology. Say you’re sorry, it obvious you feel bad about it so go to her.” Slate states standing in front of a small vibrant mini rosebush....he could have sworn that plant was wilted moments ago…

Shaking his head of the odd thought he nods at Slate leaving the tent presumably to find Aslaug. After about an hour of searching, he finally found her sitting in front of the river her knees pulled up to her chest with her head buried in her arms. He flicked his ears if she was crying she wasn’t anymore, he was certain she was at one point though.slowly he approached her as if she was a wounded animal and once she showed no response he sat beside her...still nothing. She was good at the silent treatment. She was a master at ignoring people altogether, but Nakura was just as if not in some ways more stubborn than she was. So he sat next to her silent, God knows how long she sat with her, but by the time he pulled himself out of his own musings it was starting to be sunset. He knew trying to talk to her until she showed any physical cues that she would be willing to listen to him would be no better than talking to a wall. Biting his lip he was starting to second guess if she would ever budge, but that’s when she uncurled from herself. Her legs were straight against the ground her arms holding her up with a slight lean in her posture, but there was a very evident pout on her face….aka tread carefully.

“I’m sorry. You are not a burden Aslaug despite what was said, you are not a burden.” He says looking at her.

“But I’m not going to have a normal life right?” She grumbles out.

“You will. I believe you will. I’ll make sure you will.” He states a slight blush comes to his cheeks. WHAT THE HELL IS HE SAYING!!! HE’S SOUNDING ABOUT LIKE SLATE WHEN HE’S INTOXICATED AND NEAR BEAUTIFUL WOMEN!!

“You promise?” She slightly whines out gripping his hand causing him to look down into her emerald green eyes.

“I promise.” He smiles softly then continues. “With that being said, you were right we do need to take a break once in awhile, so I guess we can stay here tomorrow.”

“REALLY?! EVEN FOR THE FESTIVAL TOMORROW NIGHT?!” She shouts out as the joy of what would match a five-year-olds comes to her face.

“Yeah, even for the festival.” He states feeling anything but enthusiasm for it.

He really did hate large crowds and he couldn’t help but feel anxiety. He could help but feel fear, the fear of Shepherd running into them and them having to run and disappear as quick and crafty as possible. He is snapped out of his musing by a slight hum coming from Aslaug. She turned around slightly alert and focused. He's about ready to jump up when he noticed what she is looking at, it's a couple and he can't help but notice the look of awe on Aslaug's face as the man hands the woman I small bunch of flowers. A small smile comes to his face before he realizes that they barely have any daylight left. Aslaug seems to realize this two and both of them head back to Slates and Cherry’s tent. February is in Fox form curled up in a ball on one of the futons he set out. Did he seriously predict Nakura was gonna let them stay here for the night? He gives a light smile while Aslaug crashes onto the futon next to February who is startled awake but instantly curls up into her chest. Almost immediately she falls asleep. Honestly, he wonders if she has some type of internal on and off switch sometimes. Slate chuckles and stretches tiredness evident in his eyes.

“Hey..” Nakura calls out catching Slate’s attention.

“Hm?” He turns looking at him. Then notices what it is the Gypsy Wolf was going to ask for and with a big smile, he quickly obliges to his request.

Aslaug felt a tickle in her nose as she slowly was rousing herself from sleep. Something smelt sweet...Like honey?...No...Candy?...No, that wasn’t it either. She knew this smell this smell was...

“Aslaug!! Sweety look at you, your face is dirty!!” A woman with bright brown eyes playfully scolded her.

“I was playing in the lilies mommy the lilies!! Lookie lookie I got some for you!!” She giggled as her tiny fist held up a small bouquet of perfect white lilies.

“They’re beautiful sweetheart, do you know why our village has so many white lilies?” Her mother asked while whipping the pollen off of her face.

“No, Why Mommy?” She asked.

Aslaug’s eyes opened slowly finally and she blinked. Was...that...a memory? Did she remember something!! Yes!! She did remember something that was her mother!! Oh...oh her mother was so...beautiful..Now she knew where she got her hair from. She smiled smoothing out her long purple locks a light blush on her face. That’s when she spotted them. A small bouquet of lilies bound perfectly together with a white ribbon. She grabbed the bouquet and gave them a good sniff feeling the petals and pollen tickle her nose and face. She pulled them away from her a grin on her face while her tail was swishing around like crazy. Did...did Nakura get these for her?

“......Aslaug your face...it’s…” She looked up, speaking of the devil.

She left out a hearty laugh pulling the lilies closely to her with care. Nakura shook his head with his eyebrow raised in confusion. Sometimes he had to wonder if she really was her actual age. What kind of person nose dives their face into lilies. That didn’t matter though...the bright smile on her face as she laughed holding the flowers to her chest mattered. He feels his cheeks heat up again for the second time in less than 24 hours, and he felt a tug of sorts in his chest. He could get used this...maybe..he should give her flowers more often.

#OC #NakuraVanner #AslaugRivermoon #flowers #tension #angst #lilies

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