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stylistiquements · 3 years

Text

The Sorcerer pt. 2

Corpse Husband x gn!reader

Reincarnation AU | Summary :

The same candle lights up on Corpse’s desk every time you are reborn and turn 23. He has been looking for you during centuries but this time you might be closer than anticipated. {Playlist}

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝟮 : 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚

Being a friend is never an easy task, especially when the other person is no normal human being. When the realization reaches you it's accompanied by its own conclusions.

☾ Words : 4830.

☾ Warnings : angst, the tiniest bit of swearing (for once)

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The agitation of your eyes has fallen flat by now; Corpse had plenty of time to think -be obsessed- about it as days and night coagulated into nothing but an ultimate and meaningless node. Sleepless were the nights when he thought about you, considered what he could do to get back to you. The lack of sleep combined with the desperation and Corpse is pretty sure he wandered to every possibility he could think of before concluding that this new element wasn’t much progress. Less than 1% of global population have heterochromia, Corpse did the math. Somehow, it still isn’t enough to know where to look for.

He is just helpless. The wish is strong, unshakable and there’s always a point in those circumstances where the yearning turns into a new obsession.

When Corpse covers his face with a black mask, it’s an act of impulse disguised in a need to spare his own sanity. It doesn’t matter if it only makes sense to him, it’s too late to detach the thought of his brain. So, in one motion, the dark cloak waves in the air until it's secured on his shoulders. He slides the hood on his forehead. There’s really no need for Corpse to make it so ceremonial if not the responsibility he bears to carry on his body a tradition that has been lasting for centuries.

The light coming out of the sky is subdued to the right extent. The rain is delicately trickling on Corpse, turning the part of his fluffy hair that isn’t protected by the hood into damped and defined locks of curls that let droplets run on the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t mind, that’s the weather he deems to be the loveliest. It allows him to gather and sort his thoughts out. It’s his bond with the rain; as if it fueled him with enough electricity to keep going.

Corpse makes his way through the meadow. It’s not as bright as in his dreams, dipped into a light morning mist, but the place smells like fresh and humid grass. It’s intoxicating and comforting like an old memory trying to reemerge. His shoes are getting coated in mud, making every step a little tedious but he only realizes it when he comes face to face with his home and his feet are almost stuck to the ground.

By “home”, I mean what’s left of it. In that Corpse is barely able to guess the structure of it.

Fuck. How long has it been since those ruins stopped looking like his home? There’s really nothing left if not a few brick walls covered by nature that struggle to rise from the ground. Corpse wanders around, trying to remember where each room once stood in the remains. He can’t get much except for the two parts he sees when he sleeps; the kitchen made out of wooden walls and the living room he only saw once. There’s still so much left uncovered and the mystery will now keep on forever. His humble house probably witnessed a few wars in its lifetime. Corpse feels bitter just thinking about it; a home built by love and destroyed by hate.

Corpse should’ve known, he should’ve known better that what he saw in his sleep was nothing but the oniric personification of his expectations. Nothing more, maybe less. He was a fool for letting his delusions feel like reality. But there’s the intention to deny the facts when his hand brushes the air and let appear the chimera of what, to him, should’ve still been standing in front of him; the picture of his true home. A pale copy deprived of any warmth, yet still visual enough to bring some sense of easing.

Corpse’s phone vibrates in his pocket and by the time his hand reaches the device, the house is back to its miserable state.

“What do you think you’re doing right now?” Sykkuno asks and Corpse huffs, bitter smirk carved on his lips.

Sykkuno knows. In fact, he figured out that Corpse would be here when he told him about his previous dream. Sykkuno knew that Corpse would feel the need to lock himself inside the memories he couldn't even remember. It hurts, but maybe the pain would be fruitful and he would finally recollect what’s missing, one last attempt to make you seem realer. This is just how his brain works and Sykkuno is a little too aware of that.

Corpse isn’t sure of what he’s doing either anymore. He thought that it would help somehow, he could’ve almost convinced himself completely, but here he is standing in the middle of an overgrown mess he once called home. There’s nothing left in here. He understands it now by the expectation versus reality that stands in front of him.

“The answers you’re looking for aren’t here, stop torturing yourself,” Sykkuno says with a tone that is so sweet and compassionate it fills Corpse’s mouth with a melancholic taste.

But he’s wrong on one point; Corpse isn’t looking for answers, he’s looking for what questions to ask. There’s so many of them and he’s simply not sure what is important and what isn’t anymore.

“I know,” Corpse mutters.

“Go back to your place Corpse,” he murmurs softly. “This isn’t home anymore.”

So what is? Corpse spent a lifetime running away and another one trying to remember what home feels like. Maybe, if you really think about it, it’s no longer about you. Maybe Corpse just doesn’t know how to be anymore. If only it could have been written somewhere; what he’s supposed to do, how he’s supposed to feel … but there’s no guideline for that type of situation. There’s no guideline and there should be.

There’s a minute of pure robotic silence and heavy breathing. The rain is streaming down Corpse’s cloak, the cold getting closer and closer to his core.

“Alright,” he whispers numbly.

Maybe seeing this place one last time is similar enough to what closure is. Or at least that’s what Corpse hopes when he takes one last deep breath before leaving without ever looking back. What’s the point anyway?

“We’re all waiting for you, you know, so just go back to your place," Sykkuno says.

There’s really no reason for why you decided to narrate horror stories on youtube, nor to make of your appearance one of those many mysteries people love to speculate about. You wish there were something more, something meaningful, but it just stops at the fact that you’ve always felt drawn to horror and mysteries. A peculiar passion of some sort. Maybe, it shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise when you became the secret bearer you are now. Could this be your official title? You wish it could. “Y/n the secret bearer” sounds pretty badass.

It was 5:55 when your eyes opened today, just like every day. The first merciless rays of the sun in a beautiful golden and pink hued sky rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. The morning air was raspy, landing on your skin to spread shivers on your bare arms. You could have buried your face in the pillow all you wanted, with a mind wandering wherever it felt like it, there was absolutely no way you’d fall back asleep.

Corpse Husband.

Now, your filled tub spreads steam on the tiles of the bathroom. Your hands scoop the water and pour the liquid on your shoulders to warm you up. It’s a little too warm, making your heart palpitate, but it’s embracing, light and easing your body until you’re completely comfortable. The smell of coffee hits your dozing nostrils with its strong scent. You enjoy the light music that waves through your ears and clear the morning fog out of your mind. The cup meets your lips and the liquid runs on your tongue. Spicy.

Your phone, flashing white light between your palms, is displaying none of the interesting information you’re looking for. Dream hasn’t shown any sign of life in a couple of days now. In fact, he hasn’t since he entrusted you with yet another secret he kept safe inside his pocket. Who knows how many others could be hidden in there. Probably too much for you to trust humankind ever again.

Corpse Husband.

You set the device aside and, on instinct, you close your eyes before immersing your head under water, letting it swallow you whole. You attempt to regulate the flow of thoughts that congests in your head. There’s this trick Dream taught you some time ago, a trick you could use to talk to him when he was gone and you needed him. He said it should remain for emergency purposes but maybe, if the number 5 case wasn’t enough for this audience to be necessary, checking on your missing friend would be. It should be.

The vibrations from reality get filtered, blurry, and you can feel your hair floating around your head. It’s light and heavy, your heart starts beating with more vigor. Your mind recognizes the place but your body can never get used to it; it’s the void, the nothingness, the dark. A mental place that belongs to you.

There’s nothing graphic about it and when you master it with enough precision, there’s no feeling attached to it either. That's why, for someone who is so used to experiencing material life, it took time to adjust. It’s more of a concept than it is a thing.

Dream’s name echoes a few time. Usually that’s when he appears, him and his white smiley mask. Yet, this time, you’re forced to open your eyes again and catch your breath before running out of oxygen.

Where could Dream be? That’s the inquiry that ping pongs inside your brain every once in a while when he disappears as he does, leaving additional questions to live rent-free in a place that is getting more and more cramped.

You bring your knees to your chest. Being friends with someone who isn’t even human, how are you supposed to do that? You sigh; there’s no guideline and there should be. How are you supposed to handle the idea that there’s always a profuse chance that Dream might never come back? A chance, or an important possibility.

The concept of Dream’s existence seems so easy to dismantle, so fragile for someone who’s supposed to live forever. The idea leaves you powerless, a little helpless.

He never dares to explain what happens when he ventures on foreign lands -to which the purpose remains a secret- and never considered answering any of the questions that used to burn your tongue so ardently.

At first, he had that serious tone in his voice, the bad kind of serious when he’d repeat “that’s not something a human should know”. Now he just laughs it off, probably thinking that joking would make the rejection easier. It’s not unusual that you even forget to ask or find yourself afraid Dream might start filling the gaps with answers. If you truly let it, the thought would penetrate inside your body and run through your veins to get you high on fear and worries.

Corpse Husband.

Maybe that’s why being friends with Corpse, knowing who he really is, doesn’t seem like that much of a good idea anymore. Could you really dread another loss? No, obviously, you can't.

At the request of a nervous Sykkuno, the amigops were reunited to play a round of self-indulgent uno before an upcoming livestream. It was like a secret reunion but, honestly, it's more of an excuse to clear some time off of their schedule and spend time together, just the 4 of them.

Corpse really doesn’t get why he accepted to play in the first place, believing that he would neither be a good partner nor of a good company in terms of conversation. But he felt like his friends needed him and how could he ever say no? He was rather wrong when he underestimated the assets of normal human interactions. But it’s good; it means he’s still able to think, it means he survived.

“Did Dream text you back?” Sykkuno wonders, high tone that lets Corpse know he hesitated before asking. When Corpse chooses to remain silent and play a card instead, Sykkuno senses the answer is nothing positive.

“Is this something we should be aware of?” Toast questions while drawing 2 cards.

“Not sure,” Corpse mutters, eyebrows frowning and eyes squinting on Sykkuno’s deck, trying to elaborate a strategy. Him and his teammate are so close to winning Corpse knows for sure they won’t. “Let’s say someone knows something they shouldn’t and it’s bothering me.”

“Can we stop playing riddle for a second?” Rae asks. “This is a little too cryptic for me.”

“Someone knows that Corpse is a sorcerer because Dream snitched,” Sykkuno informs as he readjusts his position on his seat and clears his throat.

Corpse lets a satisfied hum escape his lips, Sykkuno followed the plan accordingly when he played the card he wanted him to. Corpse has visibly no intention to focus on that conversation.

The truth is Corpse felt safe for a moment, knowing that you were aware of whom he truly is but, after processing the information you let him on, he concluded that he didn’t like that idea one bit. The fact that a human has more or less the concept of his existence between their fingers leaves him with a nasty taste of anticipation.

You could absolutely fuck things up for him and, knowing you, Corpse is aware he doesn’t have much time left before you start taunting him with his own nature. Trust is a long journey, especially for someone who has been betrayed for longer than a lifetime.

Maybe he should talk about it, express his fears and let you know how damaging, devastating it could be to his life. He wishes he could, he really does but there’s this sense of sorcerer pride that barely hangs above his head like a sword of Damocles and it feels like exposing his untamed emotions would be the final cut before that sword slices his ego to dust.

“Why would Dream snitch in the first place?” Rae’s voice gets more robust; considering Corpse as one of her protegees has never been an easy task and it shows. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Corpse mumbles. “I thought I knew but I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Maybe you should invite them to play with us sometimes. It’s better to keep an eye on them, right?” Toast intervenes.

“Uno!” Rae cheers without a warning, Sykkuno and Corpse exhale in unison. They both knew it would end up this way but it doesn’t revoke the slight frustration of only having 2 cards left in Corpse’s virtual hand.

“You’re talking about them as if they were an enemy but I think they’re rather a friend,” Sykkuno notes as he throws a +4 on the pile.

Funny what an odd timing can do. Corpse’s phone lights up near the candle. It’s showing a curious notification he could’ve never been able to anticipate, especially coming from you; [I’m still thinking about you] and Corpse’s heart hurts just a little while his breath gets caught up in his throat. His eyes flicker for a moment before he realizes what you really mean by that. He clears his throat.

“Acquaintance,” Corpse corrects. He knows his teammate is silently rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disapprobation. He should’ve probably kept his mouth shut, he realizes it now. Here we go again.

“Everyone is acquaintance to you, Corpse” Rae grumbles, getting ahead of Sykkuno’s thoughts with a tone that lets transpire the lightest glimpse of irritation.

“Not true,” he fights back. “You guys are my friends.”

Sykkuno makes this aww noise, heart getting a little softened by the confession he only half believes in.

[What are you gonna do about that?] He types.

“Nice catch, buddy,” Toast smirks. Corpse doesn’t know if he is referring to him slightly changing the subject or to him throwing a +2 on another +2 but there’s a beginning of a smile on his lips when he realizes he succeeded with setting a diversion for both of the issues he found himself dipped in.

[I don’t know, thought you were supposed to take care of it,] you reply.

[Don’t you like thinking about me all day long?] He adds with a sly smile.

[I’m not answering that question.]

[Yeah I wouldn’t like it either.]

He debates for a second. An idea bloomed in his mind a few days ago but he isn’t sure if he should let it out just yet. Why not? Corpse doesn’t know himself. Maybe that’s what he is trying to find out but he eventually has to give up. He has to because you won’t.

[There’s this spell you can use. It’s very easy and human friendly, you should try it.]

[You could’ve started with that a week ago,] you answer.

Corpse doesn’t respond, just huffs. He’s waiting, eyes fixed on the bright screen until his vision turns blurry, witnessing the three dots indicating that you’re typing appear and fade away a few times. Say it. He’s waiting and-

“Well, I wanna meet someone whom I’m gonna hear a lot about,” Rae says while drawing the 4 cards without even noticing.

“No one said you’re gonna hear more than that, ‘Raerae’,” Corpse scoffs, chuckling to mask the slight annoyance this conversation provides. “There’s nothing more to say.”

His eyes are back on the phone now. The dots disappeared for good this time. Somehow, Corpse is still waiting, feet wiggling under his chair as his fingers wrap with more confidence on the device in the palm of his hand. Just say it.

“You’re such a bad liar,” Sykkuno sighs.

“You know what? You should invite them to play uno on the next stream. I’ll leave my spot just to watch that.” Toast deviously adds to which Rae silently agrees.

No you wouldn’t. There’s a curious silence when Corpse chooses to let the words fade in his mouth and the conversation dries down. Toast’s pixelated hand gets filled with more and more cards which forces him to sigh heavily in frustration.

“This conversation is getting annoying,” Corpse mumbles under his breath.

[Fine, just tell me what to do,] you finally type and, somehow, it feels like you were knocked out of your own game.

When Dream finally finds his way back home, he lets his body sink into a chair in front of the fireplace, eyes closed and exhausted limbs that can barely move. The moon is taking its reign in a sky that looks like mixed feelings; half still awake, half already asleep.

The silence rings into his empty mind as he exhales. Being home after traveling for so long always brings a special sense of solace, a sense of belonging. He raises a finger and fire starts consuming the logs of wood in the fireplace. The heat, slowly easing the tension in his muscles.

Silence, it’s probably what causes the faint creak of his wooden floor to be so distinct. Dream’s first instinct is panic, they found him, his alerted eyes scan the empty room. There’s nothing but himself, the faint reflection of his shadows and the stone that the walls are made of. He likes the stone, it carries so much energy with it, but right now it sends awful shivers down his spine. Dream debates whether he should get up to investigate or not but fear already forbids it.

He finally meets an habitual energy and his breath cools down his burning lungs.

“What are you doing here, George?” He exhales deeply.

George reveals himself with an unabashed look on his face which, in itself, surprises Dream more than the fact that he’s standing here, in his home, unannounced. Dream pictured a clear sense of guilt on the way George would’ve appeared, eyes that would try to run away. However, George leans tall against the door frame, arm crossed against his chest. He looks almost as worn out as Dream is but there’s something on his face that unveils another type of fatigue. He doesn’t like that one bit. Not for himself, even less for George.

“I’m tired of you leaving for days, weeks, without informing me,” George says and it’s as cold as the expression that freezes the emotions out of his eyes.

Dream tries not to open his mouth before being sure of what the appropriate answer is. The silence is heavy and unsolicited, charged with the things that can’t be put into words. He tries his hardest to keep the confidence he always wears as a protection but it’s so hard when George comes into the equation, especially when the situation is accompanied by regrets.

“So that’s why you came all the way to Florida?” Dream scoffs. Right now, sarcasm is the only thing he can afford. He thought George would be the one trying to run away from the confrontation, but he’s the only one trying to cut down the conversation. He wishes he didn’t have to take that path, it’s nothing George deserves.

“Don’t make it sound like it’s not enough of a reason.” George sighs.

Dream avoids the eye contact by locking his gaze on the flames that are dancing in front of him. The stone is cold, too cold for the fire to provide enough warmth to counter it. The truth is far hidden in a complexity that can never be untangled.

“So where were you this time?” George continues, getting closer to his friend until he seats next to him. It feels like he shouldn’t, Dream wishes he didn’t.

“In Italy.” He tries not to wince by pinching his lips together when he realizes lying would have been a far better tactic to spare his companion.

George's hand reaches his head. It’s almost a desperate attempt to find a reasoning. Dream watches from the corner of his eyes the tortured mind that tries to make everything make sense in a puzzle that’s missing a few pieces.

“In Italy.” George repeats, raising a brow that makes his eyes more rounded. The fire intensifies in the chimney. It lurches dangerously. George’s tone gets more ardent. It’s still calm, as you would expect from George, but it’s loaded with resentments. “So you preferred traveling to my continent instead of asking me?”

George is waiting for an answer, eyes that won’t quiver away from the sorcerer. I just want to protect you are the words stuck on Dream’s tongue. Instead of letting them die in the air, he watches the flames that keep getting stronger and stronger. He wonders if the whole place is about to catch on fire. It would almost be fine, the words are more violent than the flames; too brutally accurate, too much of a revelation.

“I actually can't believe you right now,” George adds while shaking his head. There’s really nothing Dream can do about it. He lets the silence carry the message.

When George speaks again, his voice is back to its normal calmness.

“You’re making me one very useless familiar Clay, are you aware of that?”

He knows how to use Dream’s name as a weapon and it chimes in his brain so loudly it’s close to unbearable. But Dreams is oh too fucking aware of it. His cheeks are flushing with a glimpse of shame. Nothing bad must ever happen to George. That's why George role as a familiar is so complex. How is he even supposed to express that? Words are too far from reality, never precise enough. There’s no guideline for how to act when you want to protect someone so badly. There should be.

“I know,” he simply mutters because there’s nothing more to say. “I’m sorry.”

The fire is back to a more steady state. It crackles, pops lightly and George opens his hands to suck the warmth in his palm before rubbing them together. He doesn’t look that angry under the dull light. His dark hair are sweetly ruffled and his eyes are as soft as they’ve always been.

“Y/n has been looking for you too,” George says. “They’re worried too.”

“I know. It’s for them that I’ve been gone,” Dream explains.

“Yeah?” George hums and Dream follows the song. It seems like it was enough of an explanation for George to put his attention back on him.

“I’ve been looking for this book I talked to you about and it happened to be in Italy.” Dream says, pointing at the book that is laying on the kitchen table.

“Why would it be in Italy,” George asks as his brows furrow and he leans his head on the side.

“I don’t really know but it’s so old it probably visited a lot of places before,” Dream exhales.

“What were the chances for you to actually find it?” George questions.

“Very few, I guess I’ve been very lucky,” Dream answers while detailing the book from afar.

George gets up, his steps aren't as sure as they were a couple of minutes ago, creaking on his way. His fingers wrap carefully around the book and he describes it. It looks practically untouched considering how old it is. Its previous owners must have kept it with great care. The emerald colored cover isn’t displaying any title and when George finally opens it, the golden pages are adorned with rounds and organic letters; it was handwritten.

“You’re never lucky, Dream. It’s never luck with you,” George says as he lightly shakes his head.

“Well, believe me on that one; it was pure luck.”

It’s not something you would have expected to do in your life, yet you take this spell in an almost solemn way. The room is dark, only illuminated by candles you placed in corners of the room. The obscurity is almost reassuring that you’re doing this with enough respect for the sorcerer.

You drew a circle of sea salt and lit up some incent. The smell is strong, not far from heady. You placed two candles inside the circle; a black one in which you carved Corpse’s name and a white one in which you carved your own. Now, all you had to do was tie the two candles together with a string that would represent your bond and light the two candles until the tie would come undone, until this connection would come undone. Consumed by the fire.

That’s what Corpse said. It feels a little bitter for some reason but since nothing seems to be making any sort of sense, maybe it’s time to just let it go.

So, as the string curls around you and Corpse, you set your intention; I wish for my mind to know peace again. I wish for my mind to be spared of Corpse’s name. I wish for our sense deprived bind to stop being. You light up the two candle and patiently wait for the string to burn away.

The flames are captivating your attention. They are strong, almost unnaturally tall but mesmerizing as they melt down the wax and shrink the candle in size.

"Goodbye, Mr Sorcerer," you whisper.

The moment lasts so long you have no idea how long just passed. Yet your gaze misses none of the spectacle. A glimpse of confusion crosses your face when the two flames are close enough to set the string on fire but can’t seem to actually do it. You brush it off until the flames are about to go out and the string is still spared. It won’t burn down. The curiosity gets validated when the remaining wax no longer provides any source of light. It’s done, or at least it should have been. So why is the bond still intact?

☾ A/N : So last chapter I said the next ones wouldn't be angsty but??? guess I kinda lied?? This wasn't the chapter I planned on writing at all (realized that 3k deep into what I was writing lol) but I thought we needed a bit of magic before moving on. Also I feel like I should mention that the spell is a real one and that you shouldn't do it until you understand the consequences of it. 💘DNF💘 now that we got this out of the way,, don't you feel like familiar Gogy and familiar Sykkuno are giving off the same energy?? idk I'm just too invested now but I'm excited to know what you thought of it anyway! Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

☾ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 *OPEN* : dm me or ask me to get tagged :

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#Corpse Husband #Corpse Husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband x you #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #Corpse Husband fic #Corpse Husband imagine #corpse husband scenario #corpse husband AU #the sorcerer

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taeyongdoyoung · 3 years

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summary: you have a crush on college student renjun so you make use of your best lamest flirting attempts and surprisingly they work?!

pairing: renjun x gn!reader

genre: college!au, romance, pure fluff

warnings: very lame jokes, mentions of a cruel prank in the past (someone asking out renjun as a joke, pls never do that to people!), lots of awkwardness & sweetness, a bit of swearing, reader has an obsession with renjun’s pretty hands

word count: 4.7k

It had been a while since you had a crush so strong you even had a hard time focusing in class. Usually, you were a very good student, diligently taking notes and participating when the professor asked questions. But that was until you saw Renjun for the first time.

It was like something possessed you and suddenly you couldn't think about anything else but his pretty, gentle face, his angelic voice and his lovely hands always drawing something in his notebook. It certainly didn't help much that you were seated right next to him during your shared lectures. It most certainly didn't help that you forgot all your vocabulary when you were in his immediate vicinity. Usually, your teachers and friends described you as well-spoken and eloquent, always knowing the right thing to say.

But that was, of course, until Renjun. All words disappeared from your poor brain whenever he was around. And it's not like you didn't want to talk to him, get to know him better. But you physically couldn't bring yourself to form a coherent sentence. You kept telling yourself it was just a silly crush and it would pass in time. But the more time passed, the stronger you felt the need to do something about your feelings. Naturally, you couldn't speak, but there was still something you could do. Something you probably did best. Write.

So one day, after what felt like an eternity of yearning, you finally gathered the courage to act on your emotions. Taking a small sheet of paper out of your notebook, you wrote a little something. It was probably super lame but apparently, even your writing skills were affected by your crush on him. As soon as your "masterpiece" was done, you slid it towards Renjun before you could chicken out and change your mind about this whole thing. The note had the following text:

Roses are red, Violets are blue, Your drawings are almost As pretty as you. P.S. Key word: almost ;)

The second he spotted the little note which was folded in a hurry, he opened it curiously. Once he read its insides, you could hear him snort under his breath. Was it that bad? You couldn't help but worry. Then, he took his own pen and started writing something under it. That was a good sign, right? You were feeling hopeful. Once he was done, he slid the paper towards you. You opened it in a rush. His response was:

Hey! Are you bullying my art?!?

You looked at him in confusion. How could he have possibly misunderstood? However, he was too focused on multitasking (drawing most of the time and occasionally taking notes based on the lecture) to spot your reaction. You decided you had no choice but to be as explicit as possible and wrote another note:

Nooo, I meant to compliment both you and your art, sorry if it came off wrong and lame :(

When he received it, you could swear you saw him smiling a little, which made your heart melt. How was he so beautiful? Soon enough, his reply came:

That's alright, I'm just teasing...Also, it worked.

You couldn't believe it. It worked? You'd successfully grabbed his attention by using this first-grade flirting method in college? You were suddenly feeling brave and kept writing. It was too late to turn back time.

I just think you're really pretty and cool especially when you draw but I was too hesitant to talk to you directly...

When he read your most recent note, he even gave you a look of disbelief, which you couldn't interpret until you saw his response:

Cool? Wow, that's a first...And it's ok, I don't bite.

You chuckled quietly and suddenly noticed that class was ending soon. You couldn't wait until tomorrow so you hurriedly wrote the content of your next note:

What do I have to do to get your number?

Renjun shook his head in amusement and this time, his reply came quicker than before:

*number enclosed* Here, that wasn't so hard, was it?

You could hear the lecturer saying his words of conclusion and you hurried to respond via another note, because you couldn't trust your voice to actually speak to Renjun. Not yet, at least. So, you wrote:

Thank you!!! Here is mine: *number enclosed*

And just as he received your final note, the students around you started gathering their things. You simply looked at Renjun and you still couldn't believe he'd actually replied to your silly flirting and even gave you his number! You waved him goodbye like a lovesick fool and practically ran outside of the lecture hall. Stage fright whomst? Try having a crush on the prettiest boy in the world.

After you went back home, you debated calling Renjun. Eventually, you talked yourself out of it. What if you said something stupid and embarrassing? With texting, you could at least have more time to think things through before sending them. Actually speaking to him seemed too terrifying a task to accomplish. So, you texted him excitedly and your heart did a back-flip when he replied. Was it strange that you already missed him, even though it had only been a couple of hours since you last saw him? Naturally, you couldn't tell him that, it would probably freak him out. So, you settled for texting (for the time being).

Renjun: Why did you run away after class?

You: I was too nervous to speak to you, I'm sorry!!!

Renjun: That's strange, I see you talking to your friends all the time...Am I so scary?!?

You: Nooo, you're not scary, I'm just being an idiot 😔

Renjun: Top of the class does not equal idiot but I'll let it slide this time

You: Thank you for your generosity!

Renjun: What are you up to?

You: Probably gonna work on that assignment for next week

You: Sorry, I'm so boring 😔

Renjun: First of all, you don't have to apologize so much, you did nothing wrong

Renjun: Second of all, saaame. We can brainstorm together if you want?

You: Sorry, I'll stop. Oops, I did it again. Pretend you didn't see it.

You: Also omg, yes pls, that would be great!

And that is how your friendship with Renjun started. Texting on your phones and exchanging notes during class lasted a week until you finally decided to ask him out. Again, via text, because you were feeling too shy to speak to him. The only other contact you'd had was waving at each other. And it's not like he spoke to you, either. There were two explanations for that: 1) he chose to respect your decision or 2) he was possibly just as shy as you were. Whatever the reason, you thought this could not go on forever so you managed to find the bravery to propose a date.

You: Do you wanna go out with me? 👉🥺👈

Renjun: Sure, where do you wanna go?

You: Oh, wow, I didn't think I'd get this far lol

You: Where do YOU wanna go?

Renjun: Hmm, there's this new art gallery I've been meaning to visit...if that's okay with you

You: Anything is good with me as long as I get to see your pretty face

Renjun: What

You: I said you're pretty

Renjun: Shut up, oh my God...

You: Do you want me to stop?

Renjun: Say that again

You: You're pretty

Renjun: 😳😳😳

Renjun: I can't wait to see you again

You: Same here

Once you got to the front of the art gallery, it struck you how strange it was that you would speak to Renjun for the first time ever. You mentally braced yourself as you awaited his arrival anxiously. Your nails were digging into the inside of your hands and you were terrified you'd pierce holes through your own skin. You told yourself this was silly, you had no reason to be so nervous. Renjun was a total sweetheart and he obviously liked talking...well, writing to you. You needn't worry that much, you kept repeating in your mind. You were too busy hyping yourself up to notice him approaching behind you. Too busy to be prepared for what came next.

"Hiii," Renjun greeted you with a surprise back hug.

"Oh dear," you jumped in shock as you turned around.

"Did I scare you, angel?"

Shit. Already with the pet names? How were you supposed to survive?

"No, it's fine," you waved him off, trying to play it cool. "Isn't it weird this is the first time we're actually speaking to each other?"

"Um...kinda," Renjun scratched the back of his head. "But I like it, it's what makes this so special."

"Wow, you sure do have a way with words," you chuckled.

"Shall we go inside?" he suggested.

"Yes, please."

As you looked around the art gallery, you kept pointing excitedly at the paintings, while Renjun was quietly evaluating them and telling you interesting stories about the artists. You couldn't help but be amazed by how attractive he was as he exhibited his knowledge. And of course, you couldn't help but wonder at how he was so much more beautiful than all the art you've ever seen. Naturally, you wouldn't tell him that. First of all, because it was too lame to speak aloud. Second of all, because your voice would undoubtedly betray you and crack or something even more embarrassing. As time passed, you were surprised at how easy it was to talk to him, despite your previous concerns. Renjun was very polite and soft-mannered and he made you feel comfortable, while the two of you looked at the paintings and discussed them. Once you'd seen everything, you were starting to feel a bit bummed out that your lovely date was coming to an end. When you were outside the art gallery, you impulsively asked:

"Can I walk you home?"

"I mean...sure. On one condition."

"Anything."

"I get to walk you home next time."

"There'll be a next time?" you whispered hopefully.

"I hope I don't sound presumptuous if I share my observation we both had a wonderful time."

"That's perfectly alright. Your observation is correct," you admitted.

"I live just around the corner, though. You really don't have to-"

"But I want to."

"So do I," Renjun said and the two of you began walking towards his home.

"I was wondering about something...You already know I didn't speak to you because I was feeling shy, but why didn't you? I have two theories, but I'm curious which one is more on point."

"Do tell and I'll try my best to enlighten you," he joked.

"Okay, so theory number one is you were being respectful of my wish not to talk yet. Theory number two is that you're just as shy as I am."

Renjun laughed and you could swear this was the sweetest sound in the entire universe.

"Am I so transparent? Honestly, it's a little bit of both. But there's another part you didn't guess. But it's too embarrassing."

"Come on, tell meee! It can't be more embarrassing than my lame attempts to flirt with you."

Renjun smiled gently.

"Well, to be honest, I couldn't believe you thought I was cool and pretty...I even feared this was some sort of prank. It wouldn't be the first time someone decided to mess with me like that."

"Renjun, are you serious? I don't understand why anyone would...Scratch that, whoever messed with you didn't deserve even a fraction of your attention. I meant every word I said. I really like you...and your paintings. And I'm sorry I couldn't say it aloud earlier. You genuinely deserve to hear nice things more."

"Thank you. I appreciate it," he blinked cutely. "But enough about me. I never told you...how beautiful you are. How kind and smart."

"I know," you waved him off teasingly. "But coming from you, this means a lot."

Renjun shook his head, amused by your words.

"We should go somewhere you like next time. Maybe a bookshop?" he suggested.

"Am I so transparent?" you repeated his words. "But sure, yeah. That sounds nice."

"Well, this is me," he said, pointing towards his home.

"Already? Aw, time sure flies by when you're having fun."

"I'll see you tomorrow in class, right?"

"Of course," you promised and before you could talk yourself out of it, gave him a quick but heartfelt hug. "Bye, Renjun."

"Bye, angel."

After your first date with Renjun, things were going quite smoothly. You finally got over your nervousness when it came to talking to him and the two of you would occasionally whisper things to each other during class. The first time he held your hand under the desk your cheeks filled with colour. Despite your embarrassment, you held his hand right back and granted him with a grateful smile. After that, holding hands in class (whenever you weren't busy taking notes) became like second nature to you two. It just felt so sweet and comfortable to be close to him. You couldn't wait till the next weekend for your second date. Even though you were just going to a bookshop and had nothing that special planned out, you enjoyed being around him so much that you were more than excited for spending time with him one-on-one. No professors or other students to distract you.

When the day finally arrived, you were surprised to find out your anxious self had made a comeback. Even though you were around him everyday and had grown accustomed to holding a conversation, it had been an entire week since your first date when it was just the two of you and you couldn't help but get cold feet as you were waiting in front of the bookshop. This time Renjun didn't surprise you from behind, you could see him approaching from a distance. Mentally bracing yourself for his inevitable arrival, you knew you'd be an awkward mess no matter how hard you tried.

"Hey, angel," he greeted you with the usual hug.

"It's nice to see you again, Renjun," you replied dumbly, briefly melting into his arms.

"You saw me yesterday, remember?" he teased you.

"Um, yeah, but still," you chuckled.

"Is everything okay? You don't seem like yourself," Renjun immediately noticed the change in your behaviour.

"Why wouldn't it be? Everything's peachy," you lied, but he didn't seem to believe you.

"Be honest with me, please," Renjun asked. You suddenly remembered what he'd confided in you during your first date. It was no wonder he had a hard time trusting you after someone in his past had had the nerve to pull such a cruel prank on a soul as sweet as his. You felt guilty for lying rightaway and began explaining yourself.

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I don't want to fuck anything up. Like I just did by lying and swearing. Fuck. I did it again, didn't I? I'll shut up now," you were rambling anxiously.

"Relax, Y/N, I totally get it. I was just worried maybe you didn't want to be here...with me."

"What? Nonsense. There's nowhere else I'd rather be. No one else I'd rather be with."

"Well, the feeling's mutual so there's no need for concern. Let's look at those books, yeah?"

"Yeah, sounds good, Renjun."

As the two of you went inside and started exploring the hundreds of shelves together, you felt yourself relaxing a little. Being surrounded by so many familiar titles, so many gorgeous covers was comforting. And as you kept showing Renjun some of your favourite books and telling him about your most beloved characters, he realized you were back to your usual self in no time. Attentively listening and occasionally sharing his opinions on certain authors, you didn't notice how quickly time passed by and how much you had enjoyed yourself and each other's company. Once you had looked through the bookshop in its entirety, you felt like it was too early to put an end to your date, but you didn't want to come off as too clingy or something. So, you simply looked at Renjun, expecting him to say what he wanted to do next.

"I promised you I'll walk you home this time, didn't I?" he smoothly said.

"I believe you did," you giggled. It was so sweet of him to remember such a detail.

"I'm a man of my word so lead the way," Renjun replied, offering you his arm.

"It will be my pleasure," you eagerly took his arm and the two of you began walking. You were deliberately moving at a slow place, simply because you didn't want this to end and felt like prolonging the time around him.

"Your hands are so pretty," you blurted out at one point.

"You like my hands, huh?" Renjun smirked.

"Did I say that out loud?" you were undoubtedly blushing really hard.

"I'm afraid so."

You felt completely mortified as you covered your face with your own hands.

"Hey, hey, it's fine. You can tell me anything. Chances are I'll take it as a compliment."

"Really?" you sneaked a peak. "You don't think I'm weird?"

"Maybe a little bit, but it's one of the things I like about you."

"One?" you blinked curiously.

"You're really fun to be around and you've been nothing but sweet to me. And of course, you're stunning, but that goes without saying."

"Without saying? I don't mind hearing it, though."

"I'll have that in mind," Renjun smiled gently.

"Renjun?"

"Yes?"

"Can you hold my hand?" you almost begged.

"I don't know, can I?" he tormented you with a joke.

"Will you hold my hand?" you corrected yourself.

"All you had to do was ask," Renjun acquiesced and intertwined your fingers.

Walking hand in hand, you eventually reached your place. As you two stared at one another, you refusing to go inside, him refusing to go, both of you refusing to let go of the other's hand, you thought to yourself how badly you wanted to kiss him. You had no idea if it was too early for that but you knew that the longer you tried to postpone it, the more you'd crave him. And you were an impatient person. So you quickly kissed him without thinking much. It was a bit awkward and rushed but at least, you had finally done as you wanted. Renjun looked taken aback and blinked at you a couple of times.

"I'm sorry," you apologized again. "I just..."

He silenced you softly with another kiss, this time more slowly and putting your mind and heart at ease. You lost yourself in the feeling of his plush lips against yours, finally letting go of his hand so that you could wrap yours around his neck. Hesitant at first but growing bolder by the second, you could sense Renjun's tongue testing the waters. You slightly parted your lips, letting him in. As the kiss intensified, you could feel him becoming more eager to touch you, his arms wrapped around your lower back. When you were seconds away from losing your breath, you finally broke the kiss. Opening your eyes to look at him, you couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. He'd kissed you back.

"I thought I told you to stop apologizing so much. Especially, when you haven't done anything wrong," Renjun scolded you politely.

You opened your mouth to argue, but when you realized your immediate response would have been another 'I'm sorry', you closed it. A second later, you came up with a different reply.

"I guess you'll have to discipline me, then," you huffed in a challenge.

"Dumbass," Renjun flicked your forehead.

"Hey!" you complained with a pout. "That hurts."

"What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?" Renjun gave an unamused look.

"That doesn't sound like such a bad idea," you mumbled, not expecting him to actually...kiss your forehead. But he did. And damn your knees for threatening to give out.

"Feel better yet?"

You nodded enthusiastically.

"Get inside already," Renjun tickled your sides, nudging you in the direction of your door.

"You want to get rid of me so badly?"

"No, but we can stand here forever if you don't," he rolled his eyes.

"Do you want me to invite you in?"

"Don't tempt me and go," he was impossible to sway.

"Okay, okay," you relented. "See you tomorrow, Renjun!"

For your third date Renjun suggested something different. While your first and second date had all taken place in public locations, this time he offered going to his place. And maybe the shock on your face was too obvious, because Renjun was quick to keep talking and almost take it back.

"We don't have to if you don't want to! We can just watch something at the cinema or whatever. Forget I mentioned it if you're uncomfortable."

You quickly shook your head.

"No, no, I do want to come over! I was just...not expecting it."

"Yeah? You sure?"

"A hundred per cent," you nodded excitedly.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I'm at two hundred per cent," Renjun teased.

"It's not a competition," you reminded him.

"It's not if I'm winning," he kept playing around.

You rolled your eyes.

"So what are we watching?" you asked.

"You can't go wrong with Harry Potter, am I right?"

"You are so right," you squealed. "Which house are you in?"

"Don't get me started. Sometimes I get Ravenclaw, sometimes Slytherin, it's a mess."

"That's pretty cool, though," you were practically staring at him with heart eyes at this point.

"You're a Hufflepuff, aren't you?"

"Am I so transparent?" you complained, this line becoming something of a running gag between the two of you.

"Cute," he mumbled under his breath and you blushed, not managing to maintain eye contact.

When the time arrived for you to go to Renjun's place, you were more excited rather than nervous. He was so easy to talk to and you were genuinely making so many wonderful memories that you had made it your mission to not waste any second worrying needlessly.

"I have arrived," you announced the obvious as you stood at his door.

"I can see that," Renjun chuckled. "Come on in."

"I wasn't sure if I should bring something so I bought some pizza on the way. It's still hot, so I hope you're hungry," you said as you followed him inside like a puppy.

"Oh, that's very thoughtful. And I always have enough space left for pizza."

You grinned and the minute you put the box on the table and your arms were free, you wrapped them around Renjun in a hug.

"You're so warm," you murmured against his skin.

He kissed the top of your head swiftly. Soon after, the two of you were too busy re-watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, eating pizza and holding hands to talk much. Once the movie was over, you realized how badly you didn't want to go home and how cozy leaning your head on Renjun's shoulder felt. And how much you liked him and couldn't stop thinking about his hands, his smile and his overall existence.

"Do you want to go home already?" Renjun asked the dreaded question.

"I mean, not really, but I don't wanna impose myself on you," you whispered.

"Don't be so formal," Renjun replied. "Just stay a little longer."

"Yayyy!" you were quite overjoyed and kissed his cheek. "What do you want to do?"

"Hm, I don't know. I could give you a tour around the place."

"Sure, that sounds fun," you immediately agreed.

"Don't get your hopes up, it's just a regular college guy's apartment."

"I'm sure I'll be amazed by every little detail."

"Even my socks?"

"Especially your socks," you joked.

As he showed you around his apartment, you couldn't help but be amazed by how Renjun-like everything was. From the snug kitchen to his art supplies scattered around. Every corner made the atmosphere feel extremely homey. Until you saw something that you hadn't expected, something that hadn't come up in conversation before. A stunning grand piano. You looked at the instrument and then at Renjun and finally, back at the piano.

"Do you play?"

"No, I just keep things like that as an accessory," he responded sarcastically. "Of course, I play."

"Can you...no, wait," you stopped yourself before making a similar mistake to the one you made a while ago. "Will you play something for me?"

"Right now?"

"If it's not too much trouble," you gave him the very best pleading look you were capable of.

Renjun sighed reluctantly and sat down on the bench in front of the piano.

"Don't just stand there awkwardly, sit next to me," he urged you courteously.

You followed his advice and took the free spot. However, nothing could have possibly prepared you for witnessing Renjun's skills up-close. Watching him play was like magic. You were simply in awe and couldn't help but stare at his pretty fingers hitting the keys in just the right ways. When he was finished performing the piece, you were too frozen to do anything. Couldn't even manage to clap, even though he deserved it so much. But you were too transfixed by his playing and those damn hands of his you couldn't possibly move.

"Earth to Y/N?" Renjun went as far as snapping his fingers right in front of your face.

"Huh?" you let out.

"Did I enchant you or what?"

"I think you did," you chuckled. "Just...wow. You're insanely good."

He looked away bashfully.

"Thanks. It just takes practice."

"Nah, I've heard people play before but what you have is different. So pure and genuine. Like a blessing. And I'm not just saying that because I think I'm falling in love with you. I really mean every word."

"Care to repeat that?"

"I really mean..." you started, still not registering what exactly you'd said. How far you'd gone. What you couldn't take back.

"Before that," Renjun reminded you gently. "You know. The part about falling in love with me."

"Shit. I was thinking out loud again, wasn't I?" you asked dumbly. "It's too early for that, I know. I'm really sorry. Let's just pretend I said nothing and forget about it, yeah?"

In your panic, you jumped up from the bench and were about to escape like a coward but Renjun grabbed your hand before you could take another step.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, too," he said.

"W-what?" you stammered.

"And I don't care about whether it's too early or not. And I'm not going to pretend I didn't hear it. So the question is...what are you going to do about that?"

"Me? What...am I supposed to do?"

"What you want to do," Renjun clarified.

"Um...I want to keep falling in love with you, Renjun. And holding your pretty hands. Spending time with you. Listening to your angelic voice. What I want...is for you to be my boyfriend."

"I thought I already was."

"You were?"

"We went on a couple of dates...we kissed...Haven't I made it obvious enough?"

"Oh, right," you chuckled. "Sorry."

"Say that word one more time, I dare you," Renjun slowly ran a finger down your lips.

"S-sorry?" you had to test his patience. Before you could argue, he kissed you fiercely, wrapping his palms around your cheeks. You were drowning beneath his touch, which was ridiculous, considering he was also setting your lips on fire. You figured if saying sorry too much was going to end up like this, you would be a fool not to take advantage of it.

"Pretty angel," Renjun whispered against your mouth. "My pretty angel."

You were practically melting and the only thing holding you together were Renjun's arms.

"For fear of sounding lame, I'm inclined to say your pretty angel's almost as pretty as you. Key word: almost," you giggled, recalling your earliest attempts at flirting with him.

"Lies," Renjun shook his head.

"Hey, it worked the first time!" you pouted.

"It only worked because you're the pretty one," Renjun ruffled your hair playfully.

"Oh my God, shut up," you covered your face to hide how red it was.

"Never."

The End

#nct #renjun #nct dream #renjun x reader #nct fluff #renjun fluff #hwang renjun #nct romance #hwang renjun x reader #college au #writing

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pikapikabishes · 3 years

Text

Light of My Life

DESCRIPTION: CHARACTERS ARE NOT MINE, THEY BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTFUL OWNERS. ONLY THING THAT IS MINE IS THE PLOT

Summary: Kirishima and Y/n realize their love for each other after years of yearning

Warnings: slight nudity, some cursing, tooth-rotting fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years.

Kirishima has been in love with you… for two whole years. Ever since he met you on the first day they had started as first years in UA. When you stood up for your new friends against the angry blonde pomeranian that is Kasuki Bakugo, then for some reason apologized for it. You were just the epitome of beauty, both inside and out, and benevolence, a fiery spark in your eye that indicates the strong will and fight that you have.

And the way you handle yourself in combat during that first training exercise with All Might? Kirishima swears that the existence of Cupid must be real because he was pretty sure it must’ve been incredibly abnormal with how fast he had fallen for you. You fought like some kind of battle goddess. And with your quirk, you might as well be.

You called your quirk “Celestial Light,” meaning you manipulate sun-, moon-, and starlight to your will. He’s seen you use the sunlight as powerful beams, to which you secretly admitted to him later that you got that move from Pokemon, forge weapons out of either light, and can now weave yourself a dazzling pair of wings along with armor as your ultimate move.

And while all these features, plus with just how stunningly beautiful you are; with your soft, shiny (h/c) hair, your (e/c) eyes that seem to make the stars in the sky lose their sparkle, those plump, soft-looking lips that stretch out into that dazzling smile that proudly shows off your pearly whites. What really reeled in his attention was all the little quirks you have.

The way you twirl a lock of your hair when you’re deep in thought; the way you chew on that kissable, plump lower lip of yours and your nose scrunches in the cutest way he’s ever seen, when you’re stuck on a difficult problem or when you don’t understand said problem; the way you always pluck out the tomatoes from your salad; how you always save your dessert for last so that, according to you, the delicious taste lingers on your tongue long after you’ve eaten it, or how you’re quick to offer some of your said dessert when a friend seems upset or sad about something; or the way you lightly sway your hips while you’re cooking to a song that’s either sounding from your phone or ringing in your head, at times humming to the tune playing, and how you tend to hum to what seems to be a pleasant daydream, if the soft smile on your face is anything to go by; as well as how you always, always make hot chocolate late at night when you have problems sleeping and how utterly adorable you look as you fight to stay awake as he fondly watches from around the corner during the times he himself has gown downstairs for something to drink as you sigh so contently when you take that first sip before clumsily making your way back up to your room. Especially when you still continue to argue with Kasuki to this day on how he treats Midoriya even though he’s mellowed a bit, Kirishima can’t help but find you so utterly adorable when your 5’7” is all up in Kasuki’s 6’5” personal space. It’s like watching a cute golden retriever puppy going up against a big bad (pomeranian) wolf.

Man, he could just go on and on. And he can go on and on and on about how hopelessly in love with you he is. Which he was subconsciously doing right now with his group of friends as he watched you happily interact with your best friend Mina and the other girls, as they undoubtedly plan their “girl’s night” tonight. Kirishima gave out another sigh, which earned him a hard smack on the back of his head within the next second.

“Ow!” Kirishima’s hand shot to the spot the angry pomeranian he calls his best friend had smacked him. He turned a questioning look over at the seething blonde next to him, looking at the bulging vein that looks ready to pop on his forehead. “What the hell was that for, Bakubro?!”

“That is the fucking twelveth time you’ve fucking sighed like that in the last 20 minutes, and I swear to fuck if I have to hear another fucking comment on how ‘beautiful’ Lamp is, Imma blow your ass all the way to Timbuktu,” Bakugou angrily spat out.

Of course, the threat of getting his ass handed to him rolled off him like water on a swan’s back. In the back of his mind, Kirishima laughed at how his friend was just all bark as he knew Bakugou wouldn’t actually beat him up that bad… probably.

Kirishima blinked, “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, bro,” Denki butted in, looking slightly annoyed as well. “You’ve been going on about ‘(L/n)’s hair looks great today’, ‘(L/n) looks so cute with her nose scrunched up when she chews her food’, ‘(L/n) looks so good in her uniform today.’ Like bro, you say she looks great in her uniform everyday, which I won’t argue, she do be looking mighty fine in a school uniform,” Denki trailed off as he leaned back in his seat as he stared at the girl in question, looking suspiciously like he’s trying to get a better view of her ass.

At that realization, Kirishima glared at the pervy, knockoff pikachu and kicked his shin hard.

Denki yelped, high-pitched and whiny as he brought up his leg, tendly rubbing the spot that was kicked. “Oooww, dude! What the hell?”

“Don’t look at her like that,” Kirishima growled, eyes glaring daggers.

Denki puts his arms up in surrender, cowarding before his suddenly intimidating friend. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I won’t stare at your girl again!”

Blood quickly rushed to the red-head’s cheeks, painting them a rosy color. “Wha- She’s not my girl!”

“You wouldn’t be able to tell with the way you look at her with that lovey-dovey expression on your face and how you follow her around like a lost puppy,” Sero intervened, casually leaned back in his seat with his hands behind his head, the straw from his drink dangling from his lips.

“Yeah what he said,” Denki agreed, still tenderly rubbing his injured leg.

“That’s not-” Kirishima tripped over his words. “We’re just hanging out! I do the same thing with you guys!”

“Yeah. but if ya compare how much time you spend with us vs. (L/n), you’re practically non-existent in our group hangouts,” Sero laughed at his friend’s red face that is one shade off from blending into his hair.

“Guys, com’on. I- I just-” Kirishima was waving his hands, trying to think of something to say.

“Quite making fucking stupid-ass excuses,” Bakugou butted in. “Do you like Lamp or not?” Kirishima nodded hesitantly before glancing back over to your table as if nervous that you would hear this conversation even when you were like 4 tables away in this noisy cafeteria. “Then be a fucking man, or some shit, and fucking tell her already before I pop a goddamn blood vessel from all your fucking lovey dovey shit and whinning!”

Kirishima blinked thinking about his best friend’s words. After a moment, Kirishima gave the pomeranian his usual bright grin that could blind anyone who witness, hence why Denki and Sero simutaniously brought out sunglasses and place them high on their noses, and Bakugou’s squinting. Standing up suddenly, he declared, “You’re absolutely right! I have to man up and tell her how I feel!”

The commotion of Kirishima’s declaration turned around all the heads in the cafeteria, causing the red head’s cheeks to heat up again as he became fully aware of all the pairs of eyes on his 6’4” self. After giving a hasty apology, Kirishima plops back down, leaning on the table and covering his eyes with his big hands. Unknown to him, a pair of disheartened (e/c) orbs glanced at the embarrassed red-head with a sadden longing lingering in them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re staring at him again,” Mina, your number one best friend, noted in a singsong voice, popping another french fry in her mouth.

“What? Staring at who?” You questioned, immediately picking at your side salad, suddenly having lost interest in eating.

“Oh com’on. I saw you looking at Kirishima again.” Mina nudged you with her elbow. “Why don’t you just tell him already?”

You looked at her in confusion. “Tell him what?”

“That you’re completely and hopelessly in love with him,” she gave off a teasing lovey-dovey sigh.

Heat rushed into your cheeks. “I-...” You stuttered, going back to jabbing at your salad. “I don’t know what your talking about.”

“Oh, please gurl,” Mina scoffed. “It’s so obvious, it’s kinda painful watching. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“What do you mean? We talk everyday, we’re best friends just like you and me,” You defended. “Besides,” You absentmindedly twirl a lock of your hair around your finger. “I doubt he’d be into someone like me. I mean, I’m not all that special.”

“Are you kidding? You’re freaking gorgeous, how could he not love you?” Mina asked.

“I just feel like, I don’t know, maybe I’m too plain for him?”

Mina rolled her dark eyes before grabbing your shoulders, and turned you around towards the other girls sitting with them.

“Gals,” she called, turning all five heads. She slung an arm over your shoulder and pointed at you. “Smash or pass?”

They all simultaneously replied, “Smash.”

“See? You are not just a plain, ol’ girl. You’re beautiful, and you’re kind, and fun. Why wouldn’t he like you?” Mina glanced at the Kirishima, watching as Kaminari and Sero poking fun at the gentle giant. She may or may not know Kirishima’s feelings about you, having picked them up a while ago.

Your blushed increased. “I don’t know. He’s just so sweet, and determined, and I just… Sometimes I feel like he’s way out of my league,” you sighed solemnly.

Mina hummed, thinking. “Well that’s too bad then. I think you guys would make such a cute couple.”

“That’s nice of you to say,” you thanked, a bittersweet smile resting on your lips. “But you heard him just now. He already has someone he likes.” You sighed, “Looks like I’m too late.��

Mina decided then and there, she was going to be both of your wingman, determined to get her two friends together by this weekend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking down into the common room later after school, with a nice blouse and a pair of skinny jeans with a purse hanging from your shoulder, you come to see the BakuSquad hanging on the couches.

“Alright Mina, I’m ready. Let’s go,” You happily say, waiting for her on the side of the sofa she and Kirishima were lounging on.

Kirishima looked up from his phone, seeing you all dressed up causing a faint blush to rise. “You look good! Where are you going?”

His compliment on your outfit causing heat to rise in your cheeks as well. “Um, Mina and I were going to head to the mall for snacks and clothes.”

“Oooh yeah about that,” Mina started, smiling sheepishly. “I can’t go with you.”

Your face fell a bit. “What? Why?”

“Some personal business came up, But hey! Why doesn’t Kirishima here go with you?” Mina nudged the giant next to her with her elbow.

Kirishima bounced onto his feet in excitement at the thought of you two alone together. “Yeah, let’s go!”

“You don’t have to Kiri, I can go by myself-”

“Nonsense!” Mina interjected. “Kirishima was just telling me he wasn’t doing anything today. Plus you’re going to be needing both an extra pair of hands and eyes if your going to be shopping for clothes.”

You looked ay her in confusion. “I mean, I suppose. But if he doesn’t want-”

“I do!” he shouted, interrupting you into a shocked silence. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Ahem, I mean… I do. I don’t mind tagging along.”

“Alright,” You smiled, your cheeks still feeling warm and butterflies swarming your stomach at being alone with your crush. “If you’re ready, we can go now.”

“Uh,” Kirishima patted his pockets. “Give me a minute to go get my keys and wallet,” he said, before full on sprinting up the staircase towards his room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Here we are,” Kirishima announced, turning off the engine to his beat-up, red pickup truck.

“Thanks for coming along with me Kiri,” you smiled at him.

“It’s no problem, really. I like spending time with you.” His smile was tender and genuine.

“That’s sweet of you. I like spending time with you too,” you said, reaching for the handle of the door.

“Nuh-uh, what do you think you’re doing?” He gently grabbed your forearm, effectively stopping you from opening the door.

You quirked an eyebrow in confusion. “Opening the door to get out??”

“Nope, not while I’m around. A lady shouldn’t have to open a door when a man is with her. I’ve told you this before,” He shakes his head in mock disappointment, not effectively hiding the upturn of the corner of his mouth. “What’s wrong with you?”

He steps out of the truck, quickly rounding the truck and reaching your door to open it. “Seriously Kiri, it’s not that big of a deal,” you said, stepping out of the truck and onto the asphalt, watching as Kirishima locked the truck before walking side by side to the giant building.

“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t open the door for you,” Kirishima asked rhetorically.

You giggled at his catchphrase, or rather catchword. As you two entered the mall, you mindlessly glanced at the stores around you. “So you’re going to buy new clothes?

“Yeah, and some snacks, too, for Girl’s Night tonight.”

“Any reason for buying more clothes?”

“Um…” You started blushing again. “It’s kinda embarrassing.”

“Oh, I get it. You don’t have to share if you don’t have to,” Kirishima reassured, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“Thanks,” you smiled gratefully.

You two continue on your way towards the clothing stores, when a shout suddenly sounded throughout the mall and people screamed. You both looked at each other before rushing over. There was a commotion, a young man had a kid hostage in front of the store.

“Give me my son back! Please!” A woman screamed, sounding terrified.

“Mommy!” the boy cried.

“A-Alright, listen up!” the young man stuttered, his whole body trembling as he held up his fingers to the boy’s temple in a gun position. “N-nobody try anything or else this boy is gonna get it!” Everyone stayed still as they nervously listened to his commands. “Everyone here h-hand over whatever money y-you have on you, including you register boy, or else the boy’s not going to be breathing anymore!”

“Robbery, one hostage,” you whispered to Kirishima next to you.

“And his quirk still unknown. We should be cautious about this, otherwise the kid’s gonna get hurt,” Kirishima added.

“Okay so what should we do?”

“How about I sneak up behind him while you get the kid away from him,” Kirishima suggests

“Fine with me,” you agree, going over to a potted plant as to hide your purse. “Let’s go.”

Gathering a small bit of sunlight in your palm, you directed the beam to the robber’s face, not powerful to cause permanent damage to him, but enough to temporarily blind him long enough for you to get the frightened boi away from him.

As soon as the robber yelped in surprise and closing his eyes, you sprinted forward and shoved the blinded robber away from the boy to which he fell against Kirishima who held him in a restraining hold while you jumped back with the little boy in your arms to put a bit more distance just in case. As the robber struggled again Kirishima, who didn’t even budge with all the squirming, you checked over the crying boy for any signs of injury.

Just as you were about to let the boy run over to his mother, the criminal being held by the hulking tank that is Kirishima, pressed his finger gun to Kirishima’s face and a loud bang sounded as he apparently shot at the redhead, a bullet of fire hitting him in the cheek. On instinct, Kirishima activated his quirk to protect himself, but since it was so sudden, he let of of the robber out of surprise. Once he was free, the robber aimed at the boy in front of you and fired.

Without hesitation, you threw yourself over the boy to protect him. Since you handle sunlight, you can take a bit of heat, unfortunately though… your clothes couldn’t. Next thing you knew, your blouse was catching on fire. You tried patting the fire out but obviously it wasn’t working so without thinking, you ripped off your shirt and threw it on the ground, leaving you in just your red, lacy bralette.

A thud sounded from behind you, making you turn around battle-readied, only to see Kirishima with his harden fist hanging in the air and the robber out cold on the ground. “Oh,” you said, “guess you handled that.”

Kirishima gave out a nervous chuckle, a red hue on his cheeks as he looked away. “Uh, yeah…”

A sudden shiver ran down your spine, reminding you of your current state. You let out a shriek, your cheeks now on equal footing with your crush’s red hair. You tried your best to cover yourself, your cheeks getting hotter by the second. Your embarrassment growing as well, as the stupid teenage boys your age started cat whisling at you.

Kirishima couldn’t help his red cheeks when he saw you in your bra, turning his head as to respect your privacy, but as soon as he heard the cat calls, he snapped his head towards the source; a group is rowdy guys his age looking over your general direction.

Wait… were they whistling at you?!

Glancing at you he catches how you were squirming and red in the cheeks, uncomfortable.

Nope. Not happening.

Without much thought, he took off his t-shirt he was wearing, leaving him bare, and went over to hand it to you. “Here, you can use this to cover up,” he said, the heat not entirely have left his cheeks as he trained his eyes solely on your sparkling, (e/c) eyes.

“What about you?” You asked, timidly reaching the shirt.

“No worries. Let’s just cover you up first,” he smiled reassuringly.

Smiling back gratefully, you took the offered clothing and went about putting it on. Meanwhile the group of teens were practically drooling over your figure. That is until Kirishima stepped into their view, arms across his chest with a glare starring daggers and a warning directing at them, his huge hulking frame completely blocking you from their hungry eyes. Being shirtless allowed Kirishima’s hardcore muscles to be displayed in all of their glory. It seems the red head’s goal was working, considering the group all froze up at the sight of his 6’4” muscular build, with not an ounce of fat visible. It took a moment for one of them to unfreeze and quietly urge his companions to move along before the frightening stranger decided to beat them to a pulp.

Satisfied with their scampering away with their tails between their legs, Kirishima turns back around only to be met with your figure practically drowning in his t-shirt. The heat made a complete comeback to his cheeks.You looked so adorable standing there in his clothes.

Before long, the mall’s security made their way over where they took their statements and the unconscious robber and bid the two young heroes their grattitudes before moving along to wait for the police to come and take the criminal away. Once they left, the boy and his mother walked up to you two to give their thanks as well, with the boy excitedly asking for Red Riot’s and (h/n)’s autograph which you both happily gave him, along with a picture being taken. Once the boy was satisfied and proclaiming to never washing his shirt, he and his mother left.

Kirishima turned to you. “You sure you’re okay? You’re not hurt or anything?”

You gave him a reassuring smile as you walked over to the planter in which you had hid your purse. “I’m fine. The fire didn’t burn me or anything, but I might have a bruise from where it hit me. Nothing that I can’t handle.”

“Good, good,” Kirishima nervously rubbed the back of his head.

When you secured your purse over your shoulder, you grabbed his free hand and walked in the direction of the clothing store you usually shopped at. “C’mon. The sooner we get my clothes shopping started, the sooner you can have your shirt back.” Though you didn;t really want to part with his shirt. It was completely engulfing you in his scent, something musky and manly that made you swoon.

“Aw, you don’t like seeing me shirtless?” Kirishima teased.

Hell yes, you thought to yourself. You’d have to be blind or gay to not drool over his washboard abs and bulging biceps, which you were desperately trying not to do. You didn’t want to come off as a pervert but it was hard to ignore the butterflies furiously partying around in your stomach and the intense heat coming off your cheeks.

“Yes,” you whispered, hoping to God that he didn’t hear you. He did, of course, which gave both his ego and the heat in his cheeks a nice boost. Before he could comment on it, you started, “Here we are. This is where I like to buy my clothes.”

Looking up, Kirishima saw the both of you walking towards (insert favorite clothing store).

~~~~~

Mina, having been standing far enough away from you two so as not to be noticed, grinned and squealed and she happily clapped her hands and did a little happy dance. She had followed you two as to figure out how to get you and Kirishima close, but lo and behold a robber with a fire type quirk came along, albeit she hadn’t really planned for this part to happen at all, but when your shirt was set ablaze and you tore it off in a panic, she had the perfect plan.

She had walked up to the group of teens earlier all flirty and bribed them to go over and give you plently of unwanted attention for some extra cash. Though judging by their snarky appearance, she had bet it wouldn’t be too much trouble for them to start drooling all over you.

Mina did feel a bit bad, exposing you like that and making you uncomfortable, but for the sake of the personal, covert mission she assigned herself to get her two friends together, she knew it would be well worth it. Plus you had the gentle, red-headed giant with you to comfort you in your time of distress so she didn’t let it hold her back too much.

Having the group return a bit shaken from the encounter with Kirishima, one of them shakily asked the pinkette, “W-Was that good enough?”

Giving them her signature grin, Mina handed over a few yen bills as agreed upon. “Yup! Thanks for your help guys!”

Muttering a ‘no problem’, the males continued along their way, counting the money they’ve earned, undoubtedly planning on spending it on drinks or food. Mina glanced back at you two as you lead Kirishima to your favorite store, the giant red-head’s posture now screaming protectiveness over your dignity. She was well assured that her plan to give you guys he right nudge was a success, knowing that Kirishima was planning on confessing his love to you today from her little conversation with the other guys of the Bakusquad.

Satisfied with her work, the cheerful pinkette skipped her way to her favorite store as to buy the required snacks for their girl’s night that evening, confident that you wouldn’t be returning until much later that night after your date.

~~~~~

Right away, as soon as you two entered the store, you stop by a rack of clothes, excitedly sifting through the hanging clothes.

“Sooo…” Kirishima started. “Is there a specific reason why you’re getting new clothes? Or are you just getting them for the hell of it?” He asked, mindlessly lifting up a blouse, examining it and then putting it back, and that’s when he looked up. Immediately, he felt a sweat drop sliding down the side of his face at all the hungry, drooling ladies in the store shamelessly staring at his bare torso.

“Um, I guess you can say a bit of both,” you responded, checking out a blouse that seems to have caught your attention. “I accidentally burned some of my blouses when using my quirk.”

“How’d you managed that?” Kirishima found what appears to be a pink sleeping shirt that said ‘Donut Worry Be Happy’ with sprinkles all over and a donut in the middle. “Hey this is cute,” Kirishima said, showing you the shirt. He was silently begging you to get it, he knew you’d be adorable in it and he was desperate to see it in person.

You looked over to see the shirt your best friend was holding up. “Oh my god!” You squealed excitedly, taking the shirt from him. “I love this! I’m so getting this. Great find, Kiri!”

Once you turned around, Kirishima silently fist pumped in victory. “Well, anyway. You know how a magnifying glass can concentrate the sunlight and you can start fires with it? Well my quirk is kinda like that. And because of that, there has been more than one occasion where I accidentally burnt my clothes, as much I hate to admit it.”

“Oh, okay I get it,” Kirishima said.

After finding a couple more outfits, you dragged your very shirtless, very hot best friend to the dressing rooms to get his opinion on the outfits you chose. As you showed off the outfits you chose, to which Kirishima said that each one looked great on you.

You guys were started getting goofier, as time went on, you two acted as if you were in a fashion show, with you strutting around in a new outfit each time striking a new pose every minute, even going as far as fixing your hair in messy styles for each one, be it a quick, braid, bun, or ponytail.

As Kirishima patiently waited for you to step out with the next shirt, you called out. “Oh my god, I think this one is my favorite so far! I think this would great with heels though. Hey Kiri?”

“Yeah?”

“You see those heels I was eyeying earlier before we came to here?”

Looking to his left where the wall was covered with shelves and shelves of shoe boxes plus the ones on display, he sees the pair you were talking about. “The white heels, right?” He asked, already walking over to them.

“Yeah, can you see if they have (insert shoe size)?”

Mumbling the shoe size you gave him as he scanned the boxes, he spots the only size that you requested. “You are in luck, milady. There is only one left.”

“Thank you very much, my good sir,” you giggled reaching your hand out for the shoes without revealing the shirt you were wearing. “I’ll be but a moment,” you impersonated a proper tone hand and shoes disappearing behind the closed curtain again.

While Kirishima waiting idly (and trying his best to ignore the hungry stares still directed at him), he decided to ask for some dating intel in the form of small talk. “So hey, random question. Have you ever thought about dating?” Yeah, so not obvious. Way to go, Kirishima.

You paused your struggle with the second heel strap. “What kind of question is that? Of course I have.”

“Oh,” Kirishima simply said. “So, you have a crush on anyone?”

Staying in your position in front of the full-length mirror, you thought about it. Obviously, you had a big fat crush on the male just on the other side of the curtain, but was this his way of finding out if you liked anyone for himself or just out of curiosity? “Yeah… there is someone I really like, but I doubt he’s noticed me at all.”

“Oh? What’s he like?” Kirishima asked, nervous as all hell that you liked someone else.

“Well, he has spiky hair.. Gorgeous red eyes that shine like rubies… he looks intimidating as hell when you first see him, but actually nice once you get to know him… and he’s really handsome, too,” you blushed, lightly hugging yourself as you pictured Kirishima in your head.

Said male had gone quiet, his heart dropping all the way down into his stomach, the weight feeling like a bowling ball. Wait… Do… Do you have a crush on Bakugou?! “Oh… um… he-he sounds like a lucky guy,” Kirishima responded, trying to keep the tremor and disappointment out of his voice.

Dammit, am I too late? Kirishima cursed his reluctance at approaching you with his feelings.

“W-...What about you? Do you like someone?” You asked, heart hammering in your chest in anticipation to his answer.

“Yes,” he said, causing your heart to stop.

“What’s she like? She’s gotta be amazing for you to like her,” you tried to keep your voice cheery, happy that your best friend had found someone, but a whimper threatened to spill past your lips as tears gathered against your lower lashes, your bottom lip wobbly.

“She’s so amazing. She’s strong, and kind, and sweet, and she’s probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing,” Kirishima gushed, a dreamy look on his face. “She does (insert hobby 1), and (insert hobby 2), and she’s so good at it. And she can make some really delicious food, though she swears up and down the road that she’s not that great of a cook, but I can’t help but love every single bite of it.”

“That’s… that’s great,” you said, unable to keep out the tear-filled tone out of your voice.

“Wait, are you crying?!” Kirishima panicked.

You sniffled, hugging yourself tighter, “No.”

Kirishima stayed quiet for a moment. And deciding to be a man and take that leap of faith, he continued, “Though, I admit, she is a little dense.”

That caught you off guard. “Huh?”

“I mean, you would think she’d at least notice a little bit how much time I spend with her,” He said, laughing out loud, partly out of nerves. “Or how no matter the hour during the night, if she came to my dorm crying, I would drop everything to make her feel better, and will do the stupidest shit just to see her smile and laugh. Or how she is literally the sunshine of my life, and with her quirk, its just makes it even more true.”

Your eyes widened. Was he talking about someone with a quirk similar to yours? No, it couldn’t be, there was no possible way he was talking about you, it must be some huge coincidence.

“Or how whenever we go stargazing with each other at night, I have never looked up at the sky, not even once, before. No star, or constellations that she makes up could ever compare to the stars in her (e/c) eyes. (Y/N)... you’re just so perfect, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be good enough for you.”

You whipped around so fast, you actually tripped over the clothes that were scattered at your feet, causing you to curse as you fell, hitting you head against the wall of the dressing room with a rather loud thud as you fell right on your bottom.

Hearing the loud, resonating thud, Kirishima panicked and went into hero mode, rushing to pull back the curtain to see if you were harmed or not. Quickly finding you on the floor, tenderly rubbing the back of your head, your expression pinched with slight pain.

“Hey, are you okay?!” Kirishima worried, kneeling down to your level with his arms outstretched as if to catch you should you fall over all of a sudden.

“Yeah, just banged my ass and head is all,” you groaned, still tenderly rubbing the sore spot, sitting up more.

“Here, let me check your head.” Before you could protest that you were perfectly fine, Kirishima gently cradled your head and tenderly pushed your head forward so he could check out the damage that had been done. You instantly shut your mouth, your cheeks blooming into a rosy color at the close proximity, smelling his natural scent coming from his bare skin. “Well, you have a slight bump but that’s about it,” he concluded, letting your head go. “But I don’t know if you’ll end up with a concussion or not.”

You shoke your head, saying in a soft voice, “I doubt it. I’ve hit my head harder on missions.”

Once he was sure enough that you would be alright, it was then that he noticed what you were wearing and he couldn’t help but blush. It was a one sleeved crop top that showed a moderate amount of clevage, the end of it reaching above your cute belly button, and it was such a nice shade of red, almost reminding him of his hair color.

“That’s uh… That’s a really nice blouse,” he complimented, suddenly flustered at how beautiful you looked along with the blouse you were currently wearing looking up at him through your hair which was hanging down, eyes big and doe like.

Completely blanking on the compliment thrown your way, you continued to stare at him in awe as you processed what he had said earlier. “…Did you mean what you said?”

“Oh, uh,” his hand shot up to rub his neck nerviously, chuckling. “Well yeah, of course. It would be pretty unmanly if I lied. And… it would be pretty unmanly for me to not tell you how I feel about you.”

“H-How you feel…?” Kirishima prayed that that sparkle in your (e/c) eyes was hope as you subconsciously leaned closer to him in anticipation.

“I’m just- I’m gonna just come out and say it,” Kirishima said, more to himself though as to encourage himself. Taking a deep breath, reached out and ever so gently held your cheek as though you were fragile and can break at any moment, and looked into those sparkling (e/c) eyes he loved so much. “I really, really like you (Y/n). For a long time now.”

Tears gathered in your eyes as a brilliantly bright smile spread across your beautiful face, rivaling the sun. “Really?”

“Yes really,” Kirishima confirmed, your bright smile bringing forth a bright grin of his own.

“Am I dreaming?” You giggled nervously, hoping to god that he wasn’t pranking you or anything. It all seemed so surreal and like a dream. “You actually like me?”

Kirishima laughed. “I’ll even go as far as say I love you.”

You leaned forward until your forehead bumped with his hard chest, clenching your fists against him. “This isn’t a dream…” you whispered happily. “You actually like me.”

“And I would be just as happy if you will have me as your man,” Kirishima muttered into your hair, bringing his arms around you in a hug.

“Yes!” You didn’t hesitate in accepting his proposal. You squealed in delight as Kirishima squeezed you tight in his arms, rocking the both of you back and forth.

Pulling away, you were blinded by his bright grin. “Let’s go to the movies!”

“What, right now?” You giggled, wiping at your tears.

“Yes! We can do a movie and dinner date! I know the food court isn’t probably the most appealing, but I want to take you on a date right now, especially in that amazing outfit you have on now,” Kirishima rambled, his excitement reminding you of a hyper puppy dog.

“Okay, let’s do it!” You couldn’t help but share his excitement, completely forgetting the fact that you had girl’s night later that evening and the reason you came to the mall was to grab snacks for it.

Right away, Kirishima helped you pick up the clothes that you were going to buy, in the process, finding and putting on his own shirt, insisting that you keep the shirt and wedge heels on for you last minute date. The both of you were practically jumping at the seams with excitement as you went up to the register. Being the gentleman that he is, Kirishima tried insisting that he pay for the clothes and heels for you, but you argued that you were perfectly capable on paying for them on your own, the two of you continued going back and forth as the cashier looked between you two as you argued who was paying as she tried her best not to laugh.

Ultimately you allowed to pay for the shirt you were currently wearing, the sleep shirt he found and the heels, but no more. As you paid the cashier for all the other clothes, you laughed at Kirishima’s grumbling, reaching up to kiss away his pout. After paying, you two had decided to stop by the theaters in the mall to choose and pay for a movie, and this time you let Kirishima pay. As you awaited for the time of the movie, you walked around sharing a pretzel as a snack as you continue doing a bit more shopping, with Kirishima also buying you a stuffed animal because what kind of man would he be if he didn’t buy you a plushie as a memento of your first date?

On your way towards the food court, you could hear Kirishima humming My Only Sunshine with a satisfied expression on his face. “Are you really humming that?” You laughed.

Kirishima grinned down at you, lacing his fingers with yours and swinging your arms. “I can’t help it if you’re the light of my life.”

#kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha eijiro kirishima #bakusquad #minor nudity #mild cursing #aged up #ua #class 1a #fem!reader

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laviefantasie · 3 years

Text

140160 Hours

Pairings: Alive!Luke Patterson x Alive!Reader

Summary: What if ever since you were born in your wrist you had tattoed the counted time till' you met your soul mate?

| MASTERLIST |

According to the internet, a soulmate is a person with whom one has a feeling of deep or natural affinity. This may involve similarity, love, romance, platonic relationships, comfort, intimacy, sexuality, sexual activity, spirituality, compatibility and trust.

That is why the numbers on your wrist that counted down the time until you met your soulmate were important. Everybody was born with them.

And you weren’t the exception. As soon as you were born the numbers 140160 hrs had been engraved in your right wrist.

The numbers changing as you grew up.

You didn’t believe much on the soulmate deal. How could something so so random as a number in your wrist decide who you spent the rest of your life with?

Your mom and dad certainly were a good example of why it wouldn’t work. Soulmates or not, life can still throw its punches at you and your parents weren’t able to fight through them together.

When your wrist had the numbers 61320 hrs engraved on it your parents filed their divorce, your mom taking your full custody.

That definitely made you not look forward to finding your soulmate, especially after you saw how it had affected your parents.

Because even when their decision had been the right one —the constant fighting you had grown around of not being your best memories— it had made them lose a part of themselves.

Their souls yearning for the other’s warmth to feel —to be— complete.

That was the problem with meeting your soulmate, once you did the before didn’t exist anymore.

As soon as you met them, that part of you that had been longing for them, waiting for them, wakes up not allowing you to imaging life without the other.

You didn’t want that.

You were fine with your life as it was, concentrating on what you were truly passionate about: your music.

Who needed a soulmate?

You stared at both of your best friends in front of you in disbelief. Since you had met your next-door neighbor, Julie Molina, when you were nine you both had become instant friends.

Both of you had a love for music and Julie’s mom, Rose, made sure to teach you both everything she knew about it.

That is why your friendship with Julie had grown so much, both of you soon joined to the hip.

Your friendship with Carrie, on the other hand, was due to your mom being her dad’s producer. You had basically known the strawberry blonde your whole life.

Yet, somehow, you had never noticed the way the number on either of their wrists was changing as the day you had decided on introducing each other got closer.

And that’s why right now you found yourself staring with wide eyes at both your best friends, who stared at the 0 engraved on their wrists in awe.

“I... I was not expecting this” you whisper.

Your words are enough to make Carrie snap out of her daze and smile at Julie, with a special glint in her brown eyes.

“I-I am Carrie” she smiles sweetly at the hispanic.

Julie blushes under the other girl’s stare, “I’m J-Julie”

You roll your eyes before excusing yourself, going to sit on the stool on the cafeteria’s counter deciding they should have this time to properly meet each other.

At the end of the day, you only met your soulmate once.

You stare at them across the room, seeing how their smiles are a little bigger and their eyes a little brighter as they stare at one another.

How did that happen? Was it the sole fact that they knew they were in front of their soulmate what caused that effect?

What made meeting your soulmate such a life changing event? Was it because of the way the people talk about it? What made meeting your soulmate so different from meeting someone else other than the fact that you knew they were —somehow— destined to be with you?

Your e/c eyes move to your right wrist, the numbers 35040 hrs engraved on it in a black bold handwriting.

Was it weird that you dreaded the moment you met him or her? Was it weird that you wanted to date other people and decide by yourself who you wanted to be with?

You were just twelve years old, you couldn’t imagine yourself meeting someone and just knowing you wanted to be by that person’s side for your whole life.

That was just nonsense.

You found yourself running to the music room with Flynn and Carrie by your sides, Julie just having sent an SOS text to meet her there.

That had gotten the three best friends out of their seats in their Algebra class, ignoring your teacher’s protests, and running to the class you all liked to fool around so much in.

You were expecting to find the brunette crying her heart out or for her to be anxiously pacing around the room, you were definitely not expecting to see her jumping in excitement.

“I have a band!”

Her words made the three of you go from being confused to jumping in excitement with her, knowing the girl had been having a hard time with music since her mother died.

All of you had it hard, neither knowing how to live in a world without the mentoring and warmth of Rose Molina, but you all had been strong to be Julie’s rock. God knows how hard it had to be for her.

So they were definitely trill to hear that the girl they loved so much was finally happy again.

Carrie soon pulling her girlfriend in for a sweet kiss, before all of them soon tackle the Molina in a group hug.

Julie Molina had been fifteen when she had lost her mom. She had been fifteen the last time she had sung. It was after a year that Y/N had finally helped the brunette find her way to music again after finding a song her mother wrote for her when finally cleaning the studio —as neither of the Molina’s felt they could do it— so Mr. Molina could take pictures for the state agent.

Needless to say, once Julie heard about the song she couldn’t stay away from music anymore.

She sang.

After that, the girl had slowly started to come back to them. Now? Now she seemed to be back completely as she explained to them how is it she now had a band.

Apparently, you weren’t the only reason why she had decided to sing again. She had met a boy named Luke in the diner you guys love.

Said boy had been writing a song when —without meaning to— Julie had seen what he was writing and had helped him out on a verse he was working on.

She hadn’t meant to do it, it had just happened.

But that had made Luke follow her around, annoying her until she admitted she used to do music. After that, Reggie and Alex —the other boys of the band and apparently Luke’s best friends— had join Luke in trying to remind her what she loved about music.

The passion in the way they talked about music had awakened Julie’s curiosity for it, and when Y/N told her about the song she couldn’t resist.

She had been meeting with Luke to write songs behind their backs, Carrie scoffing in jealousy at that, before the boys had asked her to join Sunset Curve.

“We’re gonna change the band’s name though” admits the latina “A lot of things have changed for them, one of their bandmates left with Luke’s songs before they met me and that messed up with their sound”

“What about Julie and her Ghosts? Can’t believe you kept these guys a secret”

Julie noticing the jealous tone in her girlfriend’s voice, smiles before holding the strawberry blonde’s hand. Carrie soon smiling happily.

“I’m sorry I kept them from you” she apologizes “I’ve just been wanting to see if it’d work first, didn’t want to get all of your hopes up for nothing”

Flynn sighs before smiling towards her best friend, “It’s okay, Jules. When can we meet them then?”

“Today is the day you meet the ghosts” she smiles excitedly “Afterschool at the studio, that okay?”

You share a look with Carrie and Flynn before nodding with a smile.

“Let’s meet Julie and her Phantoms”

Unknowingly, to you your right wrist now had the numbers 6 hrs 37 mins on it, the exact amount of time before you’d find yourself walking through the white doors of Julie’s studio.

You had decided to stop looking at your wrist as soon as you had turned sixteen, making sure to cover it with as many bracelets as you could to avoid looking at it by mistake.

You didn’t want a soulmate.

Carrie, Flynn and Y/N were riding their bikes to Julie’s house while talking about how they thought the guys looked.

You all had agreed to meet to go to Julie’s house at 4 o’clock after going to your own homes to change clothes and were happily making your way to the place you had all once loved.

The three of you were excited to be on the studio again, you had even brought with you your songbook. You were excited to show Julie the songs you had written.

It had been so long since she had read your songs. Hopefully, you’d both be writing songs together again.

“I’m pretty sure they’re hot”

Flynn’s comment makes you and Carrie laugh out loud before coming to a stop in front of the Molina’s home. The three of you throwing your bikes on their yard.

“I’m serious! I’m thinking we’re about to see some well done boys in there, we should probably stop to check we’re presentable enough”

“Flynn, we’re already late to Julie’s band rehearsal” Carrie points out “No time to stop”

You feel your wrist tingle weirdly as you position yourself in front of your best friends while walking backwards to the studio.

Not knowing your wrist was tingling because the numbers on it were going down.

20, 19, 18, 17, 16...

“And if I may add, I believe we’re already looking quite hot” You smirk teasingly at them “As a matter of fact”

You’re almost at the studio, as the sound of an unknown melody becomes louder with every step you give.

15, 14, 13, 12, 11...

“I think they’re not ready for us” You state sassily “And they’re teenagers, how hot can they be?”

Flynn and Carrie stop, so you do too. The one with braids widening her eyes at the sight behind you.

“I think very very hot”

10, 9, 8, 7...

Seeing Carrie nod her head in agreement, you turn around to see what they mean. You e/c eyes finding Julie’s figure as she sings her heart out, oblivious to the three new arrivals.

Your heart start thumping loudly in your chest as your wrist starts tingling even more, which weirds you out but you choose to ignore it. Not noticing the way the guitarists looks weirded out too as he tries to keep his focus on the song they’re playing.

Your eyes soon move towards the blond drummer before going to the dark-haired bass player.

6, 5, 4, 3...

You admire them for a while before moving your eyes to the lead guitarist, your breath coming out quicker against your control.

Black vans, black ripped jeans with chains on them, black Rolling Stone’s sleeveless t-shirt, different colored bracelets on his wrists and many rings on his hand.

2...

Your eyes go from well built arms to shaggy brown untamed hair. The guitarist’s head turning as he feels his chest tighten with an unknown feeling.

1...

Luke shakes his head before trying to focus on the song once again, turning around to go back to his microphone stand his eyes find the three new people standing by the studio’s doors.

His bright green eyes soon meeting enchanting e/c eyes.

Luke’s hand stops playing abruptly, the rest of the band member stopping in confusion as the sound of the guitar fades.

Though Julie’s confused look soon becomes an excited one as she sees all of you by the doors.

“Girls!”

She runs excitedly towards you three, grabbing your hands not noticing the way your eyes don’t leave the ones of the green-eyed boy.

The tingling on both of your wrists gone.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here” she turns to the boys with a smile “Guys, these intruders are the bestest of friends in the whole world”

She points to all of you, “That is Carrie, my better half, that is Flynn, and this one over here is Y/N”

She then turns to the three girls, Carrie being the first to notice your wide eyes, “Girls, this Alex, Reggie, and Luke. Julie and the Phantoms, name credits go to you, Y/N/N”

“Y/N/N, you okay?”

Carrie’s question has your best friends looking towards you in worry, Alex and Reggie soon asking the same thing to a frozen Luke.

Though, it is Julie the one that notices the way your left hand grips your right wrist tightly. Getting close enough to you to pull your hand away and move your many bracelets.

A gasp escapes her as she graces at the black bold 0 on it.

Her brown eyes look towards your surprised ones as you still stare at Luke, not knowing exactly what is it you feel at that moment.

Reggie, being filled with curiosity, copies Julie’s actions with Luke. An awestruck look on his face as soon as he sees the 0 etched on his skin.

That seems to snap the guitarist from his shock, his green eyes moving towards his wrist in wonder.

As soon as you find yourself free from his gaze, you move your hand away from Julie and run out of the studio.

“Y/N!”

You ignore Julie’s screams for you and hop on your bike before pedaling to your house. Your heart beating loudly in your chest as you feel... empty.

Your eyes hadn’t become brighter and your smile hadn’t grown.

You hadn’t felt all the things they had ever told you you’d feel. All you had felt was fear. Fear of having a soulmate, fear of not knowing how to talk to said soulmate, fear of not being able to connect with said person.

A few days had passed since you had run out of Julie’s band rehearsal and you hadn’t bother to go see Julie when the band was there.

Your best friends trying to make you talk to Luke yet still supportive when you stated you weren’t ready. You wanted to believe it was because they understood but something told you it was because said boy probably didn’t want to see you just yet too.

That’s why you weren’t worried when you agreed to study with Julie that day, both of you finishing your assignments in record time before proceeding to look through your songs.

“These are amazing, Y/N/N” she smiles sweetly after finishing reading the song you never got to finish “Have you shown me this one before though? I feel like I’ve already read it”

You shake your head confused, you hadn’t shown that song to anyone. You had written it a long time ago when you had felt incredibly alone and had, for the first time, wished for you soulmate.

You hadn’t been able to finish it and soon you had forgotten it existed. Until a few days ago, meeting your —apparent— soulmate had made you look for the song.

You wanted to finish it but couldn’t for some reason.

“Never, Jules” she looks at you confused “Anyways, I had an idea for a piano intro for the first verse that I wanted to run by you first”

“Sure, just let me go upstairs to bring my stuff. And probably some snacks”

You nod your head before watching her leave. You sigh before gazing at the unfinished lyrics in your songbook annoyed.

Since when was finishing a song such a hard task?

With a scoff, you stand up from the couch and move to the piano with your songbook in hand. Soon accommodating yourself to start playing the song, hoping that would help you snap out of whatever writer’s block you had and finish it.

Softly, the chords you had in mind are played by you before your voice sings the first verse.

“Sometimes I think I'm falling down

I wanna cry, I'm callin' out

For one more try to feel alive”

Without your knowledge, a certain green-eyed boy stopped outside of the studio as soon as he heard you.

“And when I feel lost and alone

I know that I can make it home”

You look at the lyrics with a narrowed gaze before trying out the first words that come to mind when the memory of a pair of green eyes come to mind.

“Fight through the dark

And... find the spark”

The boy sneaks a glance at you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he remembers the unfinished song in his black songbook.

The song he had started writing after a fight with her mom concerning the band. He had felt so sad that he had yearn the comfort of someone who understood his pain without knowing it.

You stop playing then let out a frustrated groan as you come out with nothing to add before making your way to your —incomplete— chorus.

“Life is a risk but I will take it

Close my eyes and jump”

Your eyes snap to the owner of the unknown voice, finding the green eyes you had been dreading —yet longing— to see.

You see him struggling for what to come next, finding you actually know what would go right after what he had just sung.

“Together I think that we can make it”

He looks at you in surprise before smiling and singing the end of what would be your song’s pre-chorus.

“Come on, let's run”

Neither of you move, both of you staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Julie, who had just arrived with snacks, quietly leaves you both knowing you were just about to realize why you were soulmates.

Luke coughs as a blush makes its way to his face before moving towards his songbook —the reason he had come to the studio in the first place— on his guitar’s amp.

You watch him quietly, him soon making his way towards you hesitating before taking a sit besides you on the piano.

You ignore the loud thumping of your heart as you feel your knees touch his.

His green eyes find your e/c ones before he opens his songbook, holding it out to you once he finds the song he wants to show you.

Bright

In times that I doubted myself

I felt likе I needed some help

Stuck in my hеad with nothing left

I feel something around me now

So unclear...

Life is a risk but I will take it

Close my eyes and jump

Come on, let's run

And rise through the night

Bright forever

And rise through the night

Bright forever

You felt your breath catch in your throat as you finally understand what’s written in his awful handwriting. The lyrics and melody matching your song perfectly.

You, wordlessly, push your songbook towards him, Luke soon reading it in wonder.

“How do you feel about Julie and the Phantoms getting a new song?”

It was safe to say that it was that night that you finally understood why all the fuzz going around about soulmates.

As Luke and you worked Bright together your eyes shined brighter and your smile never disappeared from your face. You had never felt so complete in your whole life.

And staring at the boyish grin on the brunette’s face as you finished singing the newly finish soon-to-be hit of the band, you couldn’t help but think that maybe —just maybe— having a soulmate wasn’t so bad.

#luke patterson #luke patterson x oc #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #julie and the phantoms #jatp #luke jatp #sunset curve #charlie gillespie

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kurohoely · 3 years

Text

always (daichi x y/n)

part 3

genre: exes to lovers, slow burn(?) idk how genre works, sfw, daichi!timeskip

cw: sexual harassment wc: 2.2k

a/n: it pains me this part so much :') but i realli like how i wrote this part hehe i hope you do too!! enjoy :D likes and reblogs are highly appreciated :))

part one , part two, part three

Not once you had the heart to block his number, even after you blocked him from all of your social media. You hoped that by leaving this one door open, he will find a way to come back to you, or at least reach out to you again. Your legs were exerting heat, pumping your muscles to make you walk faster so that you can reach your home as soon as possible. With the constant gasping for air, vibrating through your body, you didn’t realize the faint vibration of your phone, lighting up with a notification from daichi <3. Grabbing your keys from your bag, unlocking the door while kicking your sandals off from your feet. You opened your sliding door, letting the spring breeze fill up your atmosphere. What a nice way to cool down your body. You dug your hands into your bag, fumbling to find your phone. Unconsciously, you unlocked your phone without seeing the notifications that popped up, skimming through your apps, and seeing whatever apps had the number badge on them. The last app you scrolled to was your messages. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the number one on the top corner of the icon. You pressed it, heart pounding, excreting cold sweats from your fingers. There, you saw his message.

“It was nice seeing you at our shop. If you’re free tomorrow, can we catch dinner together?”

Einstein is right, time and space are gravity because you can feel your insides starting to churned then float away, as your time stopped and your spatial awareness came to halt as well. It was as if the universe let this moment freeze for you, to take in whatever you are seeing and experiencing right now. You should’ve listened to what your mind and friends said back then, block him everywhere. Don’t leave a hole for him to come into your life again. You know this is going to hurt either way but you want to be done with it once and for all. You both need proper closure, and not some petty teenager’s love quarrel.

“You too. I’m free tomorrow”

“Great, see you at our shop at 8?”

Daichi replied instantly like he was waiting on his phone for your reply. You don’t want to show too much enthusiasm, especially when things are going to end anyway, so you thumbs-upped his last text, letting him know you agree to his suggestion. You wanted to cringe so badly that Daichi kept referring to the coffee shop as our shop but you couldn’t. In fact, you found it very sweet and a bit romantic. You plopped down onto your bed, creating scripts in your head to all the possible scenarios that could happen between the both of you tomorrow, not forgetting to include her. Be strong y/n, you got this. You have to. You gotta move on.

7:30. You slipped the black silk dress that you wore on your first date with Daichi, just so you can rewrite the memories of this dress, removing bits and pieces of him in your life. You tied your hair into a low ponytail and started making your way to the shop. Upon reaching the shop, you were greeted by Daichi’s figure. It made your heart flutter seeing him dressed up so nicely as well. It gave you proof that it wasn’t a one-sided effort to make the date look like a proper one. A date, huh…

You both sat down at a secluded spot so you can have a more private conversation. Things were too uncertain, both of you prepared for the polar opposite of each other’s expectations. Daichi wanted to start over while you wanted to end everything once and for all. You both placed your order, starting off with some small awkward small talk, trying to lighten up the air. While waiting for the food to come, Daichi mustered up all his courage and started the conversation that you both came for.

“Y/n, I know this is going to sound stupid and crazy coming from me, but I couldn’t help it. I want to know, hell, I need to know. It’s been six months since we broke up but have you ever thought of getting back together?”

You gasped at his audacity to ask you that while he was in a relationship. It never crossed your mind how Daichi could stoop any lower but he just proved you wrong right in your face. You straighten your back, eyes looking straight into his eyes, trying to find any guilt within them. None. You could feel his sincerity. What the hell is going on?

“Daichi, if you want me back just because you have no one, I don't want it. What you want is someone that listens to you - a dumb bitch that listens - as to how you said it. I’ve heard enough for today Daichi. I don’t think I could take anything more than this. Focus on your girl. You can be mean towards me but to the very least I don't want you to be a cheater for her. I came here to get some type of closure with you. Seems like I got it now”

Your tongue worked faster than your brain could even process it. Not enough time to even register and consider how Daichi - or at least you - would feel if someone would throw the exact words to you. Before you knew it, your eyes started to pool. You dashed out from the shop before the tears came pouring down in front of Daichi. You left before you could hurt yourself even more. You know you hurt Daichi but it hurts you more than you anticipated. For once, why couldn’t you follow what your heart really wants, what it has yearned for so long, all this time?

You walked through the main street of your house, the same old usual route. The street was pretty bright, given the new street lamps just got placed along the road but being a woman in this god-forsaken world, you can never be too prepared. You placed your thumb on the circle button of the app the whole time. If you suddenly released it and if you didn’t touch the circle within a few seconds, it will automatically call your emergency contacts. Such a smart thing, you thought to yourself but what you failed to notice was a drunk man starting to close his distance, moving towards you.

You were greeted by the sudden jerk on your shoulder. A drunk man putting his hands around your shoulder, started to massage your arms, feeling your flesh through your jacket. You froze and pushed his hands off, bowing to him and saying sorry that you’re in a hurry. He grabbed your wrist with a force that you know will leave blue marks. You were so scared that he would swing his bottle at you if you tried to fight longer. In all of the days, you were always careful. Your frustration with Daichi made you drop your guard slightly and someone took the chance. You repeatedly asked the drunk man to let you go, lying that your husband is around and going to pick up you soon. He inches his face in closer, opening his mouth as if wanting to slobber you whole. You felt disgusted by the strong pungent smell of alcohol and just wished Daichi was here. Wishing you had at least someone to walk you home. Why the world was so cruel to you lately. Why can't you ever feel safe and peacefully enjoy this week?

“Y/N!”

Daichi shoved the man aside, took your hand, and started to run. You followed his steps as best as you could. After Daichi deemed it was safe enough, he stopped. Huff and puffs, hands still interlocked with each other.

“Are you okay!? Thank God I made it in time. Oh my God. I shouldn’t have let you walk alone in the night. Are you hurt anywhere?”

Before you could even answer, tears gushed down your cheeks. You wailed and sobbed your heart out. You placed your head into Daichi’s chest, clasping his shirt to find any form of comfort. Maybe this was something that needed to happen for you to be fully open and vulnerable with Daichi. He hugged you tightly, hushing sweet nothings into your ears. It's not that you were crying about what just happened, it's more like the mere thought of Daichi in that situation makes you cry your heart out. Even when your life was threatened, you still managed to remember Daichi. But is this the right choice? Daichi rubs your shoulders gently.

“Come on, let's get you back home”

He opened your apartment’s door, guiding you to sit down on the couch. He went into your bedroom and wrapped a blanket over your body. He placed the takeouts on the kitchen counter, making his way to make some tea to calm you down. You sit down on the couch, hugging your knees. Daichi plopped down, folded one of his legs, and faced his body to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face, so grabbed your mug and hugged your fingers around it.

“How come you were there?”

“I chased you after you left. I think we have some misunderstanding so I wanted to go to your house and talk again. I’m so glad that I followed you, even though it was a bit late... I’m sorry”

You finally look at Daichi. Concerned, fear, disappointment painted clearly across his face. Before you could open your mouth, he continued.

“Y/n, I'm not sure why you kept saying ‘her’ and ‘my girl’ repeatedly so I tried to trace back to the first meeting. I saw you in the lobby and by that time, I was with my twin cousin. She just got this job recently and she asked me to come for lunch and show me around. I swear she's family and nothing more.”

How is it that Daichi never fails to see through you, even if it took him a bit of time? You covered your face with your mug. Heat started rising up your cheeks and up to your ears. It's getting really hot and it’s not coming from the blanket. So much for wanting to act like a grown-up and not having some petty love quarrel. You almost ended your only chance of getting back together by some childish assumptions. Oh, how you wish the earth could swallow you whole and never let you out. Daichi tucked your hair back to your ears, gently pulling your hands into his, placing them in between his.

“Hey, was that the reason you left the shop? I’m hurt y/n”

A sprinkle of sarcasm was woven into his words. You know it but you can't help that as if a whole block of weight slipped through your shoulders as you sighed into relief. He squeezed your hands firmer, signaling things are going to get even more serious.

“Y/n, I want you. I still love you. I never stopped loving you. When you left, I couldn't feel anything. I eat and sleep just because I have to. It kept me alive. Remember when we met at our shop? That was the first time I started running again, picking up my routine back. I want our relationship to work. I want us to work.”

“Daichi, I’m scared to start again. I hate that I keep contradicting myself. I don't want anything with you but when I got caught by that man, all I could think was you”

“I know y/n. I’m sorry that you have to go through that but I want to give us another chance if you let me. I know I ended it badly but I feel like I rushed to a decision that I didn't even want. If there's still some love left inside you, please let me in again. Please let me make us work.”

You squeezed Daichi’s hands, finding some strength that you could borrow from him. You pushed his arms and placed them over your shoulders, placing your head against his chest, snuggling soundly in his embrace. You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent, mixed with his musky perfume. The scent of home.

“Okay, Daichi. I want us to start again. I still love you. I will always love you”

He kissed your hairline, pulling your body flushed into his. His hug tightened quickly as if you’re going to go away if he held any looser. You chuckled as you pat his arms, reassuring him that you won't leave him. You straightened up your body and kissed his cheeks. Pink tint painted across Daichi's nose and cheeks.

“Do you wanna stay here for the night? It's already late and it's the weekend tomorrow anyways, if you don't have any work that is”

“I would love to”

Daichi stood up and took your hand, tugging your body towards your bedroom. He laid you down first before he placed himself beside you, draping his arms around your waist, foreheads touching each other. You both looked into each other eyes, finally seeing the love that was long hidden by other emotions.

“Good night Daichi”

You snuggled into his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it was your lullaby for tonight. He stared at you before he moved his lips to kiss the crown of your head, whispering the words that you longed for.

“Good night sweetheart. I love you. Forever and always”

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tinawritesstuff · 3 years

Text

You’re home

Pairing: Henry Cavill/ First Person Reader

Wordcount: 1.4K

Warnings: kinda angsty if you squint a little? It’s mostly tooth-rotting fluff lol

A/N: a little something I’ve been meaning to write for a while now. Hope you guys enjoy it!

The weather outside is freezing, the trees and the garden are painted in a thick layer of white thanks to the constant snowing. I swear I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The smell of coffee fills my nostrils, making me take a deep breath and inhale the addicting and intoxicating scent. There are only a few things that relax me and take me to my safe space: coffee, a book, winter and Henry.

Oh, Henry.

He’s been away for two months now, very busy doing reshoots for the second season of Witcher, and to say I miss him wouldn’t do justice to what I’ve been feeling. But I guess no one can really blame me, right? Because we spent six wonderful months together because of lockdown, so having to go back to not having him around every day has had me on edge since he left.

I look outside the window, watching the snow fall while sipping from my mug. The day is grey and I can’t help but feel like it matches my mood.

Have you ever felt like you have too many emotions inside and just need to let it go? Well, that’s exactly how I’ve been feeling lately, specially since Henry got called to work again.

I know it’s not healthy to emotionally depend on someone else, because most of the time I find myself yearning his presence and just needing him with me. And it’s not fair to either of us.

I hear my phone ringing, and to say I run to see who’s calling would be an understatement. When I reach it, I see that the ID is my mom, to which I let out a groan of frustration. I was hoping it to be Henry.

“Hey, ma”

“Hello, dear. How are you today?”

“I don’t really know, to be honest” I shake my head, with a horrible feeling settling in my throat “I- I feel like I have a thousand of emotions stuck in my chest, and I can’t pinpoint exactly what I’m feeling”

“Oh, honey” she sighs “Why do you think that might be?”

“To be honest, it started when Henry left. And I can’t help but feel stupid, because we’ve been apart for longer periods of time before, and I’ve never complained about it. It never hurt like it does now”

“Darling, things like this are never stupid. Have you talked to him about it?”

“I haven’t really had the chance to. He’s been so busy and I honestly don’t want to bother him with this nonsense.”

“Listen to me, if that man loves you, and I’m certain he does, he will make the time to hear about your feelings and won’t think they’re nonsense, at all” she says in a stern voice and it makes my heart sink.

Because she’s probably right, and I should tell him about it. Otherwise, I’m sure I’ll be bottling up all that’s bothering and one day everything will explode. And it won’t be nice.

After some more catching up, she hangs up and I go back to…, well, look out the window. What I wasn’t expecting was to see Henry’s car pulling over on the entryway and parking there.

I hear the door opening, and Kal’s claws scratching the wooden floor as he makes his way inside the house. Next thing I know, I’m being thrown to the ground by the big, fluffy pig that attacks me with kisses.

I laugh while scratching his ears, and I hear the male deep laugh coming our way.

“Kal, hey, down boy. Let momma breath, c’mon”

“Oh no, please! I’ve missed him so much, let him stay like this for a little longer. I don’t mind” I say smiling up at him from the ground.

It’s unbelievable how much my mood changed the moment I saw his car pulling over. Which reminds me:

“What are you guys doing here?! I thought you wouldn’t be here until the holidays”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve seen the news, my lovely, but England has gone back to lockdown. Starts tomorrow morning. So, we’ll only be working on the studio scenes.”

He helps me stand up and brings me close to his body in a bear hug. Oh, how I’ve missed him. His warm, his scent, his hugs, all of him.

I feel the tears pooling my eyes, because the mix of feelings is overwhelming and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Before I realize it, I’ve become a sobbing mess crying on his chest.

“Oh, no, no, no. Little love, what’s wrong? Why are you crying like this?” he asks with concern filling his tone.

“I-I’m sorry, I-I-I j-just mis-ssed you a lot” I say the best I can between sobs.

“Okay, come here”

He picks me up, bridal style, carries me to the living room and sits down on the couch with me on his lap. I let out all the pent-up frustrations, all the dark emotions I’ve been feeling the last two months, and in the meantime, he just caresses my hair, soothing me and whispering sweet nothings in my ear to calm me down. After some time, the tears stop running and the sobs become little exhales of air, trying to regain calm and control of my breathing.

“Atta girl, you let it all out. Don’t think there’s anything else in you to cry about, eh?” he jokes and I let out a teary giggle. “Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t even know what’s wrong to begin with. All I know is that these last two months without you have been a hell to live. I’ve been feeling so lonely. And I’m not saying it’s your fault, not at all, because it’s your job and you love it and I shouldn’t be feeling like this and I shouldn’t be selfish; but truth is that I miss you every time you’re gone, and this one has taken a toll on me.”

“Oh, nugget” he sighs and pulls me closer to his body “I’m sorry to hear that, but there’s nothing selfish about you missing me and needing me here. In fact, I’ve been feeling the same way since I left” he shrugs and kisses my hair “I want you to tell me when these things bother you, especially when I’m away, because loneliness can get tricky and I don’t want you to feel that way. Okay?”

I nod my head and snuggle closer to his body, feeling his strong and big arms engulfing me in a tight hug. We stay like that for some time, quietly cuddling while watching the snow falling through the big window behind the T.V., until he breaks the silence.

“Where’s the Christmas’ tree?” he asks glancing around

“Oh, yeah” I let out a little embarrassed laugh “I haven’t put up any of the Christmas’ decorations, including the tree, because I didn’t want to do it alone. I was going to wait for you to come home”

“I was supposed to come home on December 23rd! You were planning to put the decorations up two days before Christmas?!” he exclaims funnily and I laugh at his mannerisms and efforts to lift up my mood.

Have I said how much I missed him? I think I have.

“Well, yeah. I told you it was bad” I shrug and he grabs my face to leave a little peck on my forehead

“We can do it any time you feel like it, my love” he whispers and caresses my cheek with one of his hands “I don’t think I’ve greeted you properly, lovely. What do you say?”

I shake my head, and that’s all the answer he needs. Henry leans down and kisses me fully in the mouth, taking every ounce of air I have in my lungs. The kiss is soft, but deep. There’s no rush, we have all the time in the world. At least until he has to leave again.

I grab a handful of his curls to deepen the kiss even more, to show him how much I yearn for him, how much I’ve missed his touch and the feeling of him against me.

When we are in need of air, we break the kiss and smile like fools to one another. There’s no need to say anything. He’s here, he’s home with me.

“What do you say we put the Christmas tree up, right now and when we’re done, we watch some Christmas special?” I ask while stroking his cheek, softly, making him lean into my touch.

“I’d love to.”

General taglist: @milkathedudz @little-baby-vixen

Henry Cavill taglist: @tillthelandslide @cavill-sass @al-wiisa @kmuir1 @hoeforhenry

#henry cavill #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill writing #henry cavill x reader #Tina writes

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katierosefun · 3 years

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well, here we are! june basically flew by and it was a little rough, but we’re back with some long recs on cool things i’ve read/listened to/watched, and i’m about to force everyone to sit down and listen to my sleepover-esque ted talk in which i give unwarranted and unasked for rec lists. so here we go!

kdrama:

while you were sleeping

okay, so i tried to watch this kdrama when it came out in like...2017, i think? but for some reason, i wasn’t able to get past the first episode. i don’t really know why? because it’s so beautifully shot, and i super love the premise, which is basically this girl and this guy are somehow able to see things that are going to happen in the future...but only in their dreams. this whole kdrama really handled the plot super well--each episode honestly felt like a movie in itself, and the filming was just stunning, and i think this has to be one of the most visual kdramas i’ve ever seen. each character is also super interesting and complex on their own, and i really loved seeing such a strong cast of characters interact with each other in this world.

i think the only slight downside of this kdrama was that i couldn’t really get invested in the romance? i’m not quite sure why--i found both lead actors’ performances wonderful, and don’t get me wrong, i did think they were cute together as the drama went on, but i still couldn’t find myself buying into the romance until maybe relatively late in the drama (like...ep 11 or so? ep 16 was honestly when i realized that awww, wait, they’re actually super cute). but then again, i feel like the writers weren’t really prioritizing the romance either--i think they really wanted us to think about the beauty of dreams and redemption and how everyone can touch another person’s life in some significant way, so i can’t really be mad about it!

but anyways, overall i really enjoyed this kdrama and watched it all a lot faster than i thought i would! SOLID music, beautiful cinematography, good acting, mostly good writing, and some really memorable characters! def. a must-watch if you love suspense, aesthetics, and some wonderful characters.

the ghost detective

i’m someone who doesn’t like horror or scary things at all, but i was so intrigued by the plot and whatever material i saw on tumblr, and...of course, choi daniel, lee joo young, lee ji ah, and park eun bin. honestly, this is just a really wonderful and really underrated cast, and they really all brought out their a-game for this 32-episode supernatural / thriller / horror drama. basically, this kdrama follows the story of a young woman who’s trying to figure out who murdered her younger sister...and of course, there’s something supernatural going on.

honestly, this kdrama was such a ride. i loved the crime-solving aspect of it, and i was really in love with the interactions between all the characters, esp. that of eun bin and daniel’s characters. (guys...they’re so ride and die for each other. there’s also so much yearning. so much yearning in this kdrama, it just about killed me--)

the villain was absolutely, appropriately, elegantly creepy, and like...scary beyond belief. basically, the villain (lee ji ah’s character) feeds her victims these harmful thoughts and ultimately get them to kill themselves. it’s sad and haunting, especially when you see that the victims tell their victims “don’t listen to the bad things. try only to listen to the good things”. and...yeah. themes of how to handle all of these bad feelings inside of you really came through in this kdrama, and there were a lot of themes of suicide and the kind of rage and sadness that comes with that. (also! if you’re a fan of lots of angsty/whumpy situations....this kdrama definitely does not hold back with all of your fave whump/angst tropes! literally! every! episode! i! had! to! lie! down! because! too! powerful!)

school 2013

(aww, look at this precious cast…as though they didn’t all make me ugly cry at least five times—)

yeah, yeah, yeah, i’ve talked about this kdrama ad nauseum, and i know i watched it last month, but as i was studying for the lsat, i really, really, really needed some comfort. most notably comfort re: studying life, academics, how difficult it is to study but also be uncertain of your dreams…and if you are certain of your dreams, how that sometimes requires studying but that just makes life all the more overwhelming…can you tell i’ve been thinking about this a lot

i’m not going to ramble more about this kdrama considering i already have done so multiple times, but i enjoyed this rewatch and honestly,,,my love for this show has just grown even more. there’s a good reason why people consider this a comfort kdrama, because. i consider myself deeply comforted. also, i’ve been listening to the ost for the whole month. it’s become a problem. but sometimes. sometimes you need to listen to songs that feel like someone’s patting you on the head and telling you don’t give up, set down your burdens, don’t think you’re alone and dream whatever you want to dream, go wherever you want to go. i’ll stop talking now, but god. when i say that i think everyone who has ever felt incredibly tired by work or school and just wished for someone to give them a big hug either then or now...god. this is just one of those kdramas that i think honestly touched so many people’s lives, and i’m very grateful for the cast and crew and writers for ever bringing this story to life. :’) (god, okay, now i’ll stop talking before i make myself cry i’m fine this is fine)

your honor

so, i watched this kdrama thinking that it would be light and funny given that yoon shi yoon is the main male lead, but boy was i wrong--don’t be fooled by these happy little faces, this kdrama is heavy. this kdrama is about a young man (with a criminal record) who winds up impersonating his twin brother, who happens to be a judge. we also have a trainee who, after seeing the legal system fail her older sister, is on the rise to dispense justice through the courts the best she can.

honestly, the first few episodes were rough, mostly because of the content. big trigger warning for rape, violence, and sexual harassment at work. this kdrama really didn’t hold back when it came to addressing how the very people who use the law can also be the very same people who manipulate and abuse it. because of that, i found this kdrama incredibly powerful. that said, it certainly had its lighthearted moments too.

overall though, i liked this kdrama. the main characters were incredibly complex and genuinely the type to make me believe that for all the injustices in the world, there are still and always will be people fighting for the right thing. as someone who wants to enter the legal field, this kdrama was just uplifting. i was so blown away by the absolute rawness of the main two leads, esp. yoon shi yoon, who i’ve only ever seen in super lighthearted kdramas. so this was a really interesting change of pace, and i genuinely enjoyed watching this!

waiting for love

so this kdrama is just two episodes, and what’s better is that it’s available on youtube! it’s about two college students--a young woman who’s been hurt by falling in love with jerks now just wants to date, not really fall in love...and a young man who’s excellent at giving dating advice except he’s afraid that he’s never going to actually fall in love, so he just dates a girl for the sake of dating.

now, i kinda thought that this show was going to be kinda lighthearted, a little shallow--but it was weirdly...comforting? idk, i found myself liking it a lot more than i thought it would be. this is far from the perfect kdrama, and i kinda wished that we got more than 2 episodes because i think some of the plot points could have been better expanded, but...there were genuinely a lot of scenes that made me think a bit more about what it actually means to be in a loving relationship--like how it’s not enough to just put on a happy smile and eat meals together, but like...you know. there has to be trust and actual liking and also, yeah, maybe a bit of frustration in order to actually know whether a relationship is real or not. and given that the characters were all discussing the pressure on getting married and romance esp. when you’re in your twenties...idk. makes you think about are you dating someone for the sake of appearances? or do you genuinely...like them?

there was also quite a few tropes that i personally adore in this kdrama, which helped balance out the stuff i found more tiring. there was a lot of the “right person, wrong time” stuff going on (you really want the two main leads to get together after a certain point, and you just keep holding your breath whenever they walk past each other and beg please please please let it be this time...), and also that good old “two strangers fall in love with each other purely over writing to each other” (god. first the half of it, then me & au, then greenhouse podcast...something about this trope huh). that said, there were def. some parts that made me “:////” because some of the characters were kind of frustrating, but i’m gonna chalk that up to good writing since i think i was mostly mad about how i knew people like some of the characters lol. overall, i think this might be at least semi-enjoyable--it’s probably not something i’ll watch again, but it def. made me mull over what it means to actually be in a loving relationship, esp. if you’re in your twenties and everyone around you seems to be in happy romantic relationships/getting engaged and whatnot.

movie:

columbus

i’m a firm believer that there are some movies that are meant to cheer you up, some movies meant to make you cry, and then there’s some movies that are just meant to...sit with you. and this movie is definitely one of them. this story follows casey, a high school graduate, and jin, the son of a famous architect. the two of them are both so incredibly exhausted with their lives (casey with her constant worry about her mother, who’s a recovering drug addict; jin with his surface-level lack of concern for his comatose father). in their small town of columbus, indiana, the two of them bond over architecture and just. being quietly there for each other.

this movie’s been compared a few times to lost in translation in the sense that there’s this not quite romance between the two leads, who have a bit of an age gap (john cho and haley lu richardson have about 20 between them!). to be honest, i didn’t really get the sense that there was supposed to be a romance. if anything, it just felt like...two really lonely people finding each other. definitely not a simple friendship--definitely not a familial kind of relationship, definitely intimate.

idk. i think this movie might not be for everyone--i definitely agree with a lot of past reviewers that this movie is on the slower side. there’s some stuff here about complicated relationships with parents, a lot of cool architecture, really beautiful shots...and overall, it’s just...quiet. it’s lovely, and i can’t really stop thinking about it. it’s subtle, bittersweet, and oddly compelling. might not be the kind of thing you’d want to watch in the middle of the day, but if you’re a little sad and in the mood for something not to necessarily lift your spirits but...at least acknowledge them and sit with you, then...this is the movie to watch. idk. i felt kind of crummy the day i watched this movie, and i felt as though someone just sat next to me on a park bench until the sun went down. (mayhaps specific but hush, i’m writing this right after finishing this movie, so i’m...feeling a certain way.)

wish dragon

i watched this movie right after watching columbus because a) decided i was in the mood for something lighter, and b) i learned that john cho?? voiced?? the dragon?? (caroline your crush on john cho’s jumping out this month...)

but anyways! i loved this movie a lot. it was so satisfying? like, just narratively speaking? and the animation was wonderful and also weirdly smooth and satisfying, and there were a lot of funny and touching moments. this movie’s about this young man named din who stumbles upon a magical teapot that holds the wish dragon long--long has to grant din three wishes, and yes, i know, very aladdin, but that said, this movie has so many original twists that it feels weird to call it an aladdin retelling. it really did feel like a movie completely on its own, which i applaud the writer and director for!

i don’t want to spoil too much of this movie, but something i really enjoyed was that din’s main wish is just to see his old childhood friend again. idk, i think we all have that one friend from when we were really little that we miss--and this movie really dug into that, as well as themes about parents wanting to do the best they can to provide for their kids, and!!! and long the dragon gets his own storyline and amazing character development too!!! i was honestly just amazed at how this movie fleshed out the characters so well and had so many wonderful themes that just made me tear up. guys. this movie’s great. highly recommend for its wonderful characters and the power of friendship. just a grand old time in general. :’))

searching

yeah...yeah, i wasn’t kidding about my crush on john cho this month. yes, i watched three of his movies within 24 hours. this movie is about david kim who’s looking for his missing 16 year old daughter, margot. this film is honestly noteworthy for many reasons, one of them being that the entire movie is told through like...a laptop screen, as in we kind of follow david’s frantic search through facetime, facebook, tumblr...which i honestly didn’t think i’d be into, but whoo boy, i was wrong. it just added to the whole addictive quality of this movie, as it usually does when it comes to anything from the thriller genre.

but besides this just being a straight up addictive thriller with absolutely mouth-dropping twists (but like...good twists, and smart twists, good god--), this movie was just...touching? there’s so many themes related to what grief does to a family (because we learn within the first 10 minutes that the mom died due to cancer), and there’s just...something really fragile about relationships between surviving family members. i was absolutely blown away by john cho’s performance as a tentative and grieving widower whose world just absolutely falls apart in his search for his daughter. this movie was just so...real because of that. like, yes, this movie has all of the suspense that you would expect this kind of movie to have, but there was also just...so many beautiful themes about grief and how far parents would go for their kids and godddd yeah no i started sobbing when the movie ended. god.

also, my bias towards john cho aside, i...really loved his character. david kim is absolutely believable, and like? he’s not just the guy putting the pieces together--he’s also the guy who misses his wife and also the guy who wishes that he was there for his daughter. he’s also the guy who pauses and re-writes all his text messages because he’s trying to be a good dad. i feel like with a lot of these suspense / missing person movies, it’s really easy to have characters who are just the stoic alpha male types--and david kim definitely had his badass moments in this movie, but like...something i just loved was seeing the vulnerability that comes with...having a missing child. being a parent. god. this movie messed me up but in a good way. i can honestly say that this movie is now probably going to be one of my fave movies of all time. highly recommend, am literally obsessed with it.

book:

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid

ohohoho………where to begin with this book. this was one of those books where i was like “huh i kinda don’t understand why people are so obsessed with this book”, but then i hit like...page 20 or 30 and was like “oh god i Literally Cannot Put This Book Down Oh No” and wound up finishing it in like three days (mind you, i only read at like...midnight these days. i don’t understand why either).

i finished this book at like 2 am and promptly burst into tears because this was just one of those books. it follows the story of evelyn hugo, a famous hollywood actress from the 60s or so and onwards. known for her intense beauty and her seven husbands, she’s now giving an exclusive interview to the young reporter monique grant, where she’s about to tell all about her life. this book had me dropping my mouth multiple times, and i think tjr can spin one hell of a story, with so many good twists and turns and intensely memorable characters. by the end of the book, i was actually mad that evelyn hugo wasn’t a real person, because i, too, fell a little in love with her and thought, i want to actually watch her movies. i want to learn even more about this remarkable woman.

but alas! she’s not real, so i don’t get to see her accept an oscar or look up all the tabloids about her and her seven husbands or her speculated (and very, very, very real) relationship with celia st. john. basically...i just loved this book. the last line made me smile and laugh and cry a little bit (actually...cry a lot), and y’know...i’ll admit it’s not totally perfect, but i’m glad this book exists, and i’m glad that even though tjr isn’t bi herself, was very adamant in this book about bisexuality being real. just. like. god. once again. mad that evelyn hugo isn’t real. it’s fine, she’s real in my heart.

#caroline talks #caroline recs

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sadsappylee · 4 years

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Inexplicable

Spencer Reid x Reader

This is a ticket fic, if you don't wanna read that scroll my dude.

Every now and then, you would get into these warm, sunny moods for no apparent reason, and Spencer couldn't figure it out.

Derek would always joke that you must've gotten laid, but as a profiler he knew how to read you well enough to know it wasn't that. He couldn't tell what it was, and that was what annoyed him.

Today was a day like that, your unusually bright disposition had been going strong for a day or two before and today was no exception. He was quite frustrated actually, angry at himself for not being able to figure out what caused these periods of peculiar behavior.

He definitely wasn't complaining, he thought that you were rather adorable when you got like that, you would smile and laugh more, joke around with Morgan, and make nerdy references with Penelope and himself. You were often times the ray of sunshine that kept the team going during hard cases, and that was especially true when you had those periods of unexplainable potential energy. You had an arsenal of unbelievably warm oversized sweaters that you seemed to reserve for specifically times like this, which he thought suited you quite well.

There were downsides, of course. You seemed so tired, what he thought was a product if not being able to sleep due to heightened energy levels. You also seemed more distant, and (though the logical side of him knew this couldn't be caused by a simple mood) he couldn't shake the feeling that even your physical body was practically freezing cold. On top of that, you seemed to recede into your head more often.

He knew from experience that that was never a good thing.

This was what you had learned was called a 'lee mood'.

You had a pretty embarrassing secret- you really liked being tickled. Maybe it was because you liked the feeling of being able to trust someone enough to be completely vulnerable and helpless with them, or because you liked having an excuse to be carefree and laugh. It gave you a chance to just let go and be happy. You liked laughing, and you guessed that that just carried into the rest of your life that way.

You had these periods of time since as long as you could remember, but you had only just stumbled across the term a few weeks past after falling down a tumblr rabbit hole late at night. See, you and Spencer were alike in many ways, but one especially stood out- your pension for research in the face of confusion.

So, being the research prone person you were, that was what you did. The amount of firewalls and incognito tabs you put up to make sure no one ever saw said research was almost ridiculous, but you needed to find out why you were the way you were, or if other people were like this too. (Basically, what the literal hell was wrong with you)

That was the answer that you got, and apparently the answer was yes, other people were like you. That was how you found out that not only were these phases normal (for some people), but they had a name. It was still embarrassing, but at least you knew you weren't alone.

There were downsides to this too, of course. It wasn't all sunshine and giggly happy rainbow dreams or whatever.

It was being even further touch starved than you were usually, to the point that you thought you might genuinely cry if someone hugged you for too long. It was being almost constantly tired but unable to sleep, and it was having reason whatsoever for feeling that way. It was yearning to feel close to anyone, emotional or physical.

Still, you didn't exactly have an outlet for these moods, so they basically just came and went as they pleased, and for now, the mood seemed impossible to shake.

It had been going pretty strong for the duration of your case, and the case was finally over. It was hour (2? 3?) Of the flight back home, and everyone in the plane was asleep, bar you and Reid, whose nose was in a book while you listened to music.

You couldn't help but watch him while you listened, he was a fascinating person to look at, (and you had a bit of a crush on him) but he was especially fascinating while he was reading. He was a speed reader, but he always looked so concentrated and entertained. He was almost as enamored with reading as you were with him, and you couldn't help but watch him. It seemed almost....intimate.

He glanced up at you for a moment. Just a moment, and you knew he had caught you staring, knew he saw you. But you couldn't drag your eyes from his, so instead, you just kept looking.

The moment ended, and he looked up, not at you, not at his book, just vaguely forwards as if he was considering something. Whatever it was, it seemed he decided on it rather quickly, looking back down and dog-earing the page of his book before folding it gently closed and setting it down.

He stood up from his seat and walked swiftly towards you, he didn't speak , just looked your way with a slight smile, before dropping down into the seat right next to you. Once situated, he began to speak.

"You know, I've been trying to figure you out for the longest time," he started, observing you as he spoke. "Half the time you're a cold, calculating realist, leaning on the cynic side, and yet the other half, you're like this," he gestured vaguely with his hand.

"Well, I'm sorry I've been troubling you," you joked, a brow raised in his direction.

He rolled his eyes, falling silent for a bit. The tentativeness he usually held resurfaced when he looked around, scratching the back of his neck.

"You don't- I know I've known you for a while, and you seem alright with physical contact, but you don't, uhm, you don't have any problems with contact, right?"

You almost had to laugh. If only he knew, with how touch-starved you were? It might be impossible for you to have a problem with physical contact.

Then again, your mind wandered.

Mainly, to why Spencer was asking you that. Heat rushed through your cheeks as you considered all the possibilities of what he could've meant by that.

"I- well no, Spence, I don't," you cleared your throat. "I don't have problems with that, why?"

"Oh good," he spoke, ignoring your question as his confidence quickly returned.

Without any more warning, he reached out and tazed you in the side with his fingers, smiling slightly as you squealed, edging away from his hand.

"Spencer! What was that for?" You chastised, more than a little flustered, sure that your could feel the blush rise in your cheeks.

"I'm just...." He trailed off as if looking for the right words, a confused look (that you would never admit to thinking was adorable) for a mere moment before his head seemed to clear. "Let's call it testing a theory."

With that his hands latched to your sides, digging into the skin there and smiling as it pulled sweet laughter from you.

"See, I think that this is what you've wanted all along. Your moods, I haven't been able to figure them out, so I kept searching. I was worried about you. I thought maybe they were manic states, but you don't have any of the other traits of bipolar disorder. Then I thought maybe something good just happened to put you in a good mood, but nothing new had happened during those times either."

"ihihihi- ihihi hahahahave noho ihidehehehea whahat youhohohoure tahahalking ahabout!" You denied, attempting to stifle your laughter and batting his hands weakly away (though you didn't really want him to stop).

"So," he continued, rolling his eyes at your denial, "I started searching symptoms; often tired but rarely sleeping, brighter moods, hightened levels of elation, loosely bounded sense of humor. Now, I didn't find anything official, per sé, but I did find a quite interesting little section of the internet that offered up a pretty simple explanation," he smiled gently, continuing that sweet form of torture, and all you could do was laugh, clutching against his shirt. You chose to bury your head in his chest and save yourself from the embarassment of your reactions to his words.

"Did you know, it actually makes sense- laughter and physical contact are the biggest suppliers of the chemical dopamine," he explained, as if he wasnt currently tickling you to pieces. "When someone is touch-starved, they lack most of the dopamine that comes from physical contact, so the brain decides that the best way to replace that missing dopamine has to be some sort of human contact that results in laughter. Ergo- tickling." You just tucked your head further into his chest, attempting to muffle your laughter in his shirt and hide your steadily reddening face.

"Spehe-spehehehenceheher!" You giggled, unsure what to say and settling on his name. You knew there wasnt much of a point trying to hide that you obviously enjoyed this from Spencer so you just sat there and took it, hiding in his shirt, though you knew that by your red ears he could tell your face was flushed.

"Yeah (y/n)?" He asked far too casually, always attentive to what you had to say, while still continuing to tickle you senseless, scratching your sides, hands worming their way under the fabric of your sweater.

"Ihihi dohohohont- ihit tihihihihicklehehes!" You whined, aware that you weren't technically complaining or asking him to stop, also aware that Spencer knew that perfectly well too.

"I know," he tsked, feigning sympathy but continuing his actions, with a smirk that you could almost SENSE on his face. Admittedly, this interaction wasn't just for your sake, he was certain that hearing your laughter and seeing you lose your typically well-maintained composure like that was bringing him quite a bit of dopamine as well.

So, instead of trying to think of something else to say, you just clutched at his shirt to stop yourself from pushing him away, trying to keep your laughter in check so as to not wake up the rest of the team as you just let yourself feel the tickly sensations flooding through your nervous system. You practically melted when he moved one of his hands to spider up and down your back, falling into snorting giggles. The other moved to flutter behind your ears, and you sighed through your giggles. Your back and ears had always been some of your worst spots, but at the same time it was incredibly soothing, the kind of thing that could put you to sleep, and the conflicting feelings absolutely maddening.

"Oh, did I find good spots?" He cooed, noticing how you went limp in his arms, aside from the occasional squirm when he brushed against a bad spot.

Your skin tinged a further red, (if that was possible) at the teasing. "...Maha*hic*haybehehehe.." you squeaked, again realizing that there wasn't a point to trying to lie to Spencer.

"I'll keep that in mind."

He stopped for a moment to give you a break and you sat up to try and catch your breath.

"For now, i think that if we really wanna fix this mood of yours we should pull out the big guns," he teased pausing to make sure you were still doing alright before moving his one of his hands to flutter at your neck, while the other dropped to your knee and began squeezing, laughing along with you when you squealed and shot your hands up to cover your mouth and try to muffle your laughter, which had gone up significantly in volume.

He moved his hands so quickly, between squeezing at your knees, drilling his thumbs into your hips, clawing at your stomach, running his hands up and down your sides, and fluttering at your neck and ears, it felt like his fingers were everywhere at once, and you were barely holding it together. You moved to bite down on your sweater sleeve to muddle your desperate laughter, losing all coordination and thrashing as his hands continued their onslaught against your senses.

He grinned at your (franky rather adorable) reaction, laughing along quietly with you, finding it precious how you tried to hide what was clearly hysterical laughter. In reality, behind the muffling of your laughter, you felt that you were losing your mind at the sensations coursing through your veins. Still, you wouldn't have it any other way, pure glee shining through your eyes.

Just that look was worth doing the a million times over, and it was then that Spencer realized he needed/enjoyed this just as much if not more than you.

When your laughter started growing hoarse he slowly backed off, bursting into quiet laughter at the adorable, almost dissapointed puppy-dog look on your face when he stopped.

You sucked in air like you had never tasted it before, a few stray giggles slipping out to disrupt the silence. Spencer had stopped, but you could swear you still feel the ghosts of his hands against your skin, the tingling feeling still refusing to leave your body, leaving you flustered and giggly.

But you were happy.

Elated, actually. What he said about the endorphins produced from what had just transpired must've been true, because you felt almost lightheaded, warm and pleasantly tired and unable to stop smiling.

You were still on his shoulder, practically laying on him, though he had long since stopped.

Neither of you minded

You hadn't really been able to be this kind of tired in a long, long time. You felt like you could fall asleep right there and then. You'd forgotten how nice it was.

"...thank you."

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and you shifted your eyes down, flushing bright red in embarassment after realizing what you had just said.

For a moment, Spencer studied you. Leaning against him, head against his shoulder, cuddling into his side.

You looked tiny.

It was the first time he'd ever really realized how strikingly small you were. In the field you were tough. You seemed so much more formidable than the fragile looking person curled into his side.

Your sweater sleeves were down way past your hands with one sleeve slipping off your shoulder and your undershirt untucked and rumpled. Your flushed complection, eyes closed, the hair sweat-stuck to your forehead, out of breath and panting slightly. You looked like you had just walked through a hurricane, the only indication of what REALLY happened being the soft smile plastered to your face, and the occasional quiet giggle slipping in between your breathing.

You looked absolutely breathtaking.

"Any time," he spoke softly.

He looked down at you, and he could swear his heart melted. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and you'd never looked more peaceful.

He could get used to life being like this.

#fanfic #tickle community #tickle fic #ticklish reader #ticklish!reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #cm

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rosedavid · 3 years

Note

"Wearing clothes in their favorite color." for david/patrick!

thank you so much for the prompt!! i’m sorry it took so long!!! hope you enjoy it :)

Title: How I Missed You

Word Count: 1,368

Warnings: Implied Sexual Content

AO3 Link

David presses Patrick against the wall outside of Patrick’s apartment, and their lips meet so forcefully that their teeth clank together a bit. That doesn’t deter either of them, though. Patrick merely tilts his head to readjust their position, arms tightening around David’s waist as they continue to kiss.

It’s been a whole week that Patrick has been away at his business conference. While Patrick thought it was a good idea at the time as a way to continue to improve their business model and revenue for Rose Apothecary, he completely underestimated how difficult it would be to go without being with David for that long. The first few days weren’t terrible, although Patrick constantly found himself turning to his side, as if to quip something to David, only to remember David was back in Schitt’s Creek. Still, he survived the first few days, busy with the beginnings of the conference.

After the first few days passed, Patrick discovered that he never knew he could miss someone so much. Every thought seemed to be geared toward David, and his mind wandered toward David even when he was supposed to be paying attention to a presentation. Of course they texted and talked on the phone, but that’s nothing compared to the real thing, the feeling of David wrapped around him like in that moment. Patrick secretly hoped that David yearned for him just as much during their time apart, and based on the way David came out from his apartment and pounced on him, he would say David missed him, too.

Patrick’s tongue slides into David’s mouth. The kiss is warm and wet and sloppy. Patrick’s lungs hurt from the lack of oxygen, but he keeps kissing David for as long as he possibly can until they’re forced to pull back for more air, both panting heavily, foreheads pressed together. David whines, nose nudging against Patrick’s cheek.

“Missed you,” David sighs, bringing him in for a few more, short kisses.

“Mmmh, missed you, too,” Patrick murmurs. “Missed you so much.”

They fumble their way back into the apartment, still attached as much as possible. Patrick smiles softly as he sees David’s stuff throughout his apartment, stuff that wasn’t there when Patrick left. It’s a real testament to how much David missed him if he stayed at Patrick’s apartment even when Patrick wasn’t there.

They gravitate toward the sofa. David sits on the armrest, while Patrick finds his way between David’s legs and leans down slightly to meet his lips again. David worms his arms up and around Patrick’s neck, Patrick’s hand on his thighs. Every point of contact sends a rush of passion and adoration through Patrick. David’s hands comb through his hair, while Patrick breaks his lips apart from David’s to press kisses down his jaw to his pulse point. David moans breathily in his ear.

Tired of leaning over, Patrick maneuvers them both onto the couch, where they are almost sitting in each other’s laps.

“Too many clothes,” David groans, tugging at the zipper on Patrick’s jacket while simultaneously kissing Patrick.

So caught up in the moment, Patrick momentarily forgets about what he’s actually wearing until it’s too late. With the jacket shrugged off, David’s hands make his way back around Patrick, fingers clenching into the very soft fabric. That’s when David freezes, lips turned into a confused pout as he pulls away from their kiss.

“David,” Patrick complains, chasing after his lips.

“Uh, Patrick, what is this?” David asks, voice high as he fingers the plush fabric.

And suddenly, Patrick remembers the sweater. Actually, the multiple sweaters that he bought while he was at his conference. He was missing David especially one night, wandering around the bigger town when he saw an upscale fashion boutique that David might deem slightly less horrendous than the usual clothing options in a small town. Patrick had ventured in there, gaze immediately drawn to the collection of soft, slightly pricey sweaters. Patrick knew David would never be seen in one of them, but the monochrome aesthetic reminded him so much of his boyfriend that Patrick ended up trying on and buying three sweaters in varying shades of black and white, softer and fancier than anything he’s ever owned.

The sweater that Patrick currently has on is the black, fuzzy one that is just the slightest bit too long on the sleeves but fits the rest of him perfectly. David holds Patrick back by the shoulders as he glances over the sweater, mouth parted slightly, and brows furrowed.

“It’s a sweater,” Patrick replies.

David glares at him. “Okay, but this sweater is actually half-way decent? I mean, it’s no Givenchy, but it’s made of nice fabric and it fits you well, and it’s not Brewer blue.”

“Brewer blue?”

“Yes, Brewer blue! Because you always wear that same shade of blue button-downs, besides for like two other shirts. But black? You never wear black! And you never wear sweaters! So this has to be new.”

Patrick chuckles. “I bought the sweaters in the town at my conference one day. I just thought they looked nice.”

“Sweaters, as in multiple?! You bought more than one?” David asks, looking around.

“They’re in my suitcase, and I’m sure I’ll be forced to show you them later.”

David cocks his head. “I’m very confused. Why would you buy these? Not that you don’t look dashing in that sweater, but the whole monochrome sweater is more my look.”

“I—” Patrick starts, but stops because it’s kind of embarrassing to admit that he bought the sweaters just because he thought David would like them on him since they matched with David’s own style. Patrick’s lack of speech obviously alerts David, who smirks at him.

“Wait…did you buy these because of me?”

Patrick flushes, cheeks and ears hot. He doesn’t want David to laugh at him, so he tries to focus his gaze elsewhere while also scooting further apart.

“Sweetheart, stay here,” David coos, wrapping an arm around Patrick’s shoulder and tugging him into his side. “Don’t worry, I think it’s cute.”

From where his head buries into David’s collarbone, Patrick mutters, “You do? It’s not cheesy?”

“Oh, no it’s really cheesy, but also really cute. I’ve never had someone miss me enough to buy something just because it reminded them of me.”

Patrick brings himself to lift his face up out of David’s collar to meet his eyes. “What would you say if I told you that these sweaters were actually for you to wear.”

A series of very amusing emotions flit over David’s face. “Hmm, well, I mean, I would be very flattered, and these sweaters are nicer than what you would find in Schitt’s Creek, but these are obviously still machine washable and the stitching is very sloppy and coming apart in a few places—”

“Don’t worry, David, they’re for me,” Patrick interrupts, smiling cheekily.

“Well, in that case, I like them very, very much,” David says, shimmying his shoulders as he eyes Patrick again. “But you know that you don’t have to wear these for me.”

“You’d be okay with me wearing blue-button ups for the rest of my life?”

And much to Patrick’s surprise, David responds, “As incorrect as most of your fashion is, it’s also yours. I couldn’t imagine you not wearing them, at this point.”

“Aww, David, you like my button-ups!”

“Okay, well, like is a very strong word—”

Patrick laughs, unable to help himself any longer as he cups David’s jaw and pulls him in for another searing kiss. He feels their identical smiles as their lips press together.

David pulls away again. “That being said, if you choose to wear those sweaters some days, I would not be opposed…”

“Oh? You want me to keep the sweater on right now, then?” Patrick teases, fingers inching up David’s leg.

David shakes his head back and forth vigorously. “Nope, nope, we can revisit the sweater later.”

“Are you sure? It’s actually really soft. I might just chill here for a bit—”

“Patrick, if you don’t take that sweater off right now, there’s no way you’ll be able to wear it again.”

#schitts creek #schitt's creek #schitts creek fanfic #david x patrick #brewerrose #schitts creek fanfiction #schitt's creek fanfic #fanfiction

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 13.1)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 13

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Geralt could feel what you also feel and he was cursing the Djinn for making you both feel this way because it was a feeling that was certainly irresistible for one man to ever control. You were in heat, and it doesn’t seem to be such a good idea for the witcher to try and resist.

Warnings: This is just a filler chapter for the smut in the next chapter. Ahonhonhon! Kind of Jealous Geralt too? Lowkey? Hehehehe. A cute bard and Cirilla having the period-syndrome (I’m having it too rn and I’m thirsty for Geralt or any of Henry’s character. DAMN IT) I’ve given a name to the Djinn they’ve found because I’ve tried searching but found no name for every Djinn they find in the witcher? I think? Reader being so needy and in heat. (The animal type of heat for reasons..) Also, reader is...a virgin.

Words: 4.5k

A/N: You probably want to strangle me so hard right now, bb’s. I’m in the phase of a writer where I’m procrastinating stuff but not exactly a writer’s block. Just want to do things besides writing all day or I’m prolly just sleepy with no damn reason since last week. 😅😒

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

"Well, you're in a greater bad mood right now, rat." Jaskier frankly stated, wiping his lute with a cloth.

The night was serene with your heart strings balled up in a yarn. Your emotions consisting of woe with a face as if you lost a shit ton of money. You sat together with Jaskier in the middle of the vast leigh, knees touching against each other as the bard quietly sat with you in silence.

A bright purple evenfall draws nigh along the sky, stars finally becoming visible as you admired how beautiful their skies were. Less pollution and more aesthetic, though a lot more eccentricity happening around more than earth.

You've exhaled one last sigh, mouth in a tight frown as you took notice of the moon that was in replete. A perfect shape of a circle as it shines bright.

"Is the witcher being an imbecile again?" the bard ceased his cleaning, giving you his sole attention as he watched your face contort in utmost upset. But, you chose to just let the sorrow go for a moment, admiring the stars and skies like it wasn't laughing back at you from how delusional you were for having strong feelings for the witcher, "Don't start, Jaskier."

"Your cantankerous attitude shown in your cherubic face tells me that you are gradually adapting Geralt's crabbiness because you accepted the position in being his lover---," Jaskier has managed to bluntly say, carefully placing his lute on the grass as he narrowed his eyes at you, "---Though, it does seem like a sacrifice, small rat. Your kindness shall be missed. I would like to see you try and let Geralt adapt to your naivity and sweetness. The vision is pretty hilarious, if you ask me!"

Your frown even grew tighter when he mentioned the word 'lover', shoulders falling from how dismayed you were from hearing it.

"I'm not his lover."

The bard couldn't help but raise a skeptical brow back at you, remembering what he saw last night. He knew he wasn't hallucinating nor daydreaming, "Oh, so kissing under the moonlight is considered as a friendly gesture in my era now? If so, then this means you wouldn't mind kissing me too!"

He puckered his lips, making smooching sounds as slowly tried to teasingly close the gap between you both as Jaskier pouted to act as if he was about to give you a kiss on the cheek when you've yelped and immediately had your palms over his mouth, gently pushing his face away from you, "Jaskier! What are you even---?!"

He comfortably sat back down and had his knee over his chest prior to the position he had now, which was in criss-cross as he playfully shrugged. His pretty baby blues looking at the darkening sky, "A shame. I've been told by countable lads and lasses that I do kiss like I take their breath away,"

You tutted at that, shaking your head from his teasing and tried to send a hostile sally, "You suck then. Do you want them dying because of lack of breath?"

Your animosity has been curved by the bard. He seemed like he was acting like he didn't hear you as he let his eyes flicker to you again; going on with his jests, "Thank you by the way. I've been sleeping much soundly since the couple of days and you seemed to be having such wonderful dreams every night,"

Bawdy indications were hinted in between Jaskier's words; making you give him a glare that obviously made him grin like he won the lottery; thinking that your previous rendezvous back in Geralt's room when he wasn't around had some provocative explanations.

He didn't know your symbol was hurting a lot more on those nights where Geralt wasn't around.

You brush off his ribald comment, "I didn't do it for you,"

"I thought you were actually asking for forgiveness by calling me a horse's arse minutes ago? You're knowing the blasphemy of our language but totally naive of every monsters and places we have here. It doesn't seem to be such a thing to be proud of,"

Jaskier continued his blathers without even letting you talk, freely letting you give him death glares because he seemed to be more mouthy as days go by. You turn a deaf ear to exhale an exasperated breath, "I'm taking it back. You're still annoying as heck," before unabashedly laying your head down on his lap.

His yakking has been brought to a halt when he'd felt your head fall on his lap, the bard suddenly uttering quizzical gibbers that you continued to ignore as you felt the bracing wind hit your body; appreciating the eventide in quietude.

"Alright, alright! I'm not complaining...Ughm," Jaskier cleared his throat, anxiously scratching his head as he tried his best not to look at you.

The fullness of the moon has been drawing you in again. In a tranquil night, it was as if the stars began to whisper sweet nothings, lately realizing that their soft whispers has actually been your wishes; albeit, you've broken them down together, your whims willing and having no desire for you to actually come back in earth.

With only one thing in your mind, it was to stay with Geralt and his family.

But, do you really mean it? If you would choose earth or their dimension, were you serious that you wanted to stay?

Though, for him; you weren't that sure if he also wanted the same thing. If Geralt wasn't around, you were probably already dead, have been sold by noblemen or eaten by their monsters.

But, the stars seemed to jump out of the sky when you've heard a loud thundercrack of a door that came from the inside of their house, snapping the bard quiet as the noise tugged you out of your happy place; a place that you hoped Geralt came with.

The night has went slower, time ticking a lot more deliberately when one person is probably upset with another. Especially, when the person you were upset with lived in the same house as you and even was the owner of the bed you sleep on.

You were beginning to feel rickety as seconds pass by while Jaskier tried worming out whatever he had asked to Cirilla whom was feeding Kolby with a basket full of obsolete bread.

"Tell me why the back door is now broken off its hinges?" he asked in incredulity, hands on his hips as he had seen the brown, wooden door hanging with all its life, trying hard not to fall.

Hence, as they continued their talk; you couldn't help but massage that aching part of your chest, the one where the symbol laid upon the valley of your breasts as you heavily breathed.

It was attacking again.

The weight and fiery phantom of fingers grasping your heart more severe rather than the nights you had it felt like a rabid monster wanted to come out of cage. Their cold weather suddenly all swelter; as if you were walking on burnt out coals with one person clouding your mind.

Geralt.

You needed him, wanted him and yearned for his presence.

Cirilla gave a blatant shrug of her shoulders; sounding completely phlegmatic as she answered, "I don't know, bard. I didn't scream if that will make you any less more worried,"

Jaskier had his eyebrows furrowed as he keenly pondered as to why their door was broken all of a sudden, "Has there been a beast?" his slim, calloused fingers moved restlessly; dwelling onto what has raided their own home. The bard looked anywhere, continuing to be in distress while Cirilla patted the Hirikka's head with utmost care as she watched him devour everything in the basket, "You mean, Geralt?" she gave Jaskier a once over before turning back to look at Kolby, thoroughly undisturbed that it was the witcher's doing, "---He went out for a second and then came back, breaking the door off its hinges. But, he promised to fix it,"

Jaskier's head veered to where she was crouched in the middle of the living room, his baby blue eyes full of concern as he opened his mouth to tell all his inquiries but was instantly shut closed when he'd seen you hunched in his peripheral vision, palms on your knees as you were breathing like you were being chased by another Alghoul.

The latter took heed of those sweat drops falling on the side of your face as you were heaving deep breaths. Your head was darkening in assailing images of those familiar amber eyes you've grown to be thoroughly fond of; longing to be consumed by those glowing golden aureate.

You've heard someone walking closer to where you stood, seeing Jaskier crouch to give you a scrutiny of his baby blues. Bright azures. You didn't yearn for that. All you wanted was golden. His golden and you couldn't help but whimper, your chest has giving you agony as if you were being pricked in the heart by small needles, "You're sweating like a rabid---rat, are you alright?"

Another deep inhale of your breath; you breathlessly muttered, "I am Jaskier---It's just---" nevertheless, those train of thoughts couldn't be completed by the excruciating pain that ignited a troubled mewl. You straightened your back, making Jaskier stand up as well to scan your face for any signs as to what was happening to you, but only had seen your face painfully contorted in a way that tells him you were in agony.

"It's hot. Too hot," pause. You swallowed the tight knot of confining sensations wanting to be let out, "---Abnormally hot. Hot in two different ways; like I wanna be impaled or something!"

At your most forthright honesty, your statement has made the bard blink rapidly from how blunt it sounded, being taken aback by how outspoken you suddenly become; a thorough change of your bashful self, "You're actually revealing lewd facts that should be kept to yourself. You are certainly not alright!"

You could feel yourself grow hotter, the heat being scorching and aching at the same time. Your legs began to weaken and you can't help but fold like a paper, squat down and the position was utmost impuissant; totally vulnerable with your palms on your ears as you tried to shut down the restless whispering that went on and on; ceaseless as you had no power over it.

Jaskier began to panic; his face brimful of dread, "----GERALT? WE HAVE A PROBLEM DOWN HERE!"

The soughing of breathless whispers were relentless, no matter how you tried to cover your ears; they just keep coming. It was incessant, never ending despite of how they were giving your chest a pain that seem to be unyielding as they went on and on.

Witcher. You wanted the witcher. You needed him, you longed for him.

"Stop saying the word witcher, Jaskier!" you abruptly scolded, sounding too jarring and ear-piercing; void of kindness as you could feel the aggravation going to your head with the additional non-stop rustle of voices. The bard eyed you skeptically as he added, finding your rebuke rather surprising and odd because he never said anything about it, "I wasn't even uttering a word!"

Warm, slender fingers fell on your shoulders; trying his best to comfort you while the witcher wasn't coming down from his chambers yet. Nevertheless, from the moment he'd touch you, the toubadour has received a harsh slap of his hand being pushed away.

"Jaskier!" you harshly spat, your nose scrunched from how discomforting you were feeling.

He was quick to haul his arms up in surrender, stepping a foot away as he looked at you in horror, "Alright---I'm not touching you then!"

Another strained bleat left your lips as you were now fully sat on the floor, holding your chest as you continued to heave, shaking your head from the perpetual torment that tries its best to scream blandishments that sounded abridged. Some were incomprehensible and other words sounded lucid.

Destiny has it's price. It sounded just like a rustle of the winds as the shushed voices continued its onslaught. Two souls, together as one. Bound for eternal rest or a life forever. Zephyr shall protect. You cannot outrun death.

Your whimpers started to gradually increase, mewling in the process when you've exhaled a sigh as the needles seem to turn bigger, "It hurts, I swear it really hurts!" you screeched, body feeling like you were dropped in hot, molten lava as you were hearing foot steps treading in haste, "Geralt's coming, don't worry, rat."

Kolby prowled to where you sat; eternal mewls never ceasing as sexual, pent-up aggression was starting to travel to your head, but you tried to fight them off. Though, it ignited more pain as you struggled. Cirilla suddenly snapped her head to where you were, a tight lipped frown etching her face as she jogged to where you sat.

"Is she okay?" the pretty child asked in worry, watching you battle with something they couldn't see nor feel. Jaskier raised a brow; looking sardonic as he acknowledged, "No, she certainly isn't, Princess Cirilla."

She gave him a lour as she snarled; her riposte sounding a lot like the witcher because of how harsh it sounded, "I'm not in the mood for your sarcastic nonsense, bard."

Jaskier was unfazed as he took her retort like it was nothing, "Ooooh, is this how period--is it called period---does to a lassie?"

They're retaliations had them unaware of Geralt's presence who came marching down the stairs with an unfathomable expression on his face; the trepidation never seen in his features as it was emotionless, never giving anybody the panic that Jaskier, Cirilla and Kolby has been feeling when you've suddenly began bawling your eyes out from the thumping pain.

The witcher hurriedly crouched before you, his glowing amber eyes thoroughly scanning your features if there was anything weird happening; but to his discontent, Geralt noticed none.

He felt everything. Your frustration, pent-up aggression; venereal desires or not, the twinge of scorching ache that can't be relieved due to constraints given from the latter himself when he'd chose jurisdiction over his carnal wishes that you also wished.

But, he'd been bull-headed for his reasons; Geralt was not bargained for the repercussions held because of having no permanent proof that you were also suffering every night.

Just like him. Hence, the both of you needed relief. Corporeal appetites released for the betterment of both.

"She's in heat," Geralt rasped, trying to hear what you've been begging for and he sensed that you were hearing voices that continues to assault you, paining your chest as you were unaware of his presence that loom before you.

"What? Oh, Geralt! Cease the utter balderdash!" Jaskier exclaimed, eyeing the witcher who squat down in front of you.

Geralt's amber eyes has been searching for yours, but you've never let him see as you continued your hushed begging. He had his chiseled jaw clenched so tight, every breath he takes was also giving his chest a potent congesting pain that he can somehow resist. His medallion was vibrating wildly, alarming him that there was magic surrounding him.

Therefore, he knew the pain wasn't just one to disregard because he knew your pain has explanations that is needed to foresee.

Was the Djinn still in there? Keeping you as a host?

No. Impossible. The witcher thought at the back of his head because there were times that his medallion doesn't vibrate whenever he's around you, it only happened now and back then when you were possessed.

It was impossible that the Djinn was keeping you as its master as well. You could die if that ever happened. The seal was gone and never found back in the swamps, meaning to say it was already gone; broke free from its confinement because you already had three of your wishes.

Jaskier couldn't help but notice how clean and fixed Geralt's hair was. Hence, he'd started to acknowledge the aesthetic difference he claimed, "Also, did you just braid your majestic chalky white hair all by yourself?! Or did you do it, Princess Cirilla?" he bargained, utterly stunned from Geralt and his hair being braided, dubiously eyeing the lion cub of Cintra.

But, she only gave a nonchalant negation, "No."

"Oh, the rat did! She did a great job at making you look so feminine tonight, Geralt!"

Geralt paid no heed to Jaskier's teasing compliments, wanting nothing but to roll his eyes but ceased to do so as your fingers began to shake, his mind now in a perturbed fret as his gaze shifted anywhere to see what was causing your whole situation because he sees nothing. A tight furrow of his eyebrows tightly creased his forehead, "---The Djinn has given her effects for whatever the symbol does to her, bard."

Jaskier crouched beside where Geralt is, receiving a truculent glare that made the bard move away for an inch because his bellicose aura was radiating off him too much, "Symbol? What symbol?"

"I'm not showing you her chest." he bluntly chided as a low growl vibrated through his chest, giving Jaskier a hostile look in his glowing peepers.

The toubadour did a double-take, his mouth turning into an offended 'O' as he held a palm on top of his chest as he gestured to your squatted form, "I wasn't even asking you if I could see her breasts!"

"Then, shut up and stop asking."

Jaskier huffed, sulking beside the witcher because of how he'd suddenly become such a grump.

You've muttered a soft mewl, tightly closing your ears with your palms as you suddenly talked out loud, "I need Geralt. Where's Geralt?!" it was the only name you could hear, echoing inside your head as the heat traveled through your veins, searing and extremely scorching all of a sudden.

Your heartbeat was loudly drumming out of your chest. Sweat dripping down your face as the pain and heat was starting to make you feel lightheaded, his scent crashing through your senses. Earthy, pinewood and a mix of mannishness.

Geralt.

"Don't touch me!" It felt like you were burning; but also finding some aid to the ache as it soothed your heated skin like ice to the fire. You've felt his thick, rough fingers fall on your shoulder, making you jerk back as you looked at him; completely mortified for a second, "I'm here, midget." before the witcher tightened his hold on you, those fingers clasping around your feeble arm as he gazed upon you in deep concern.

"It's alright. Calm down, it's me." Geralt gently hushed your frantic state, softly grabbing the side of your jaw to make you look at him.

When he did, your eyes were dark and dilated, filled with carnal.

"You're having a hot spell," he roughly forced the words out of him, heavily swallowing whatever you were feeling because he's also having the same problems, but chose to restrain himself; doing a better job than any most men would, "A--A literal spell?" you didn't catch his drift and feel yourself breathing deep, his scent soothing your nerves as it also does the same for him.

Geralt shook his head, his fingers strapped on the side of your neck making his hand feel the pleasuring jolt. You've felt his fingers slightly tremble as your eyes were beseeching, those dilated pupils of yours tormenting him, "No. You're in heat, midget." pause. he lowly growled in displeasure, amber eyes pooling in keen, "---which explains your cravings for touches and the need for coition,"

Your face scrunched in pain and a mixture of pent-up frustration, the voices inside your head slowly dying down as it was now drowning in the witcher's unique, baritone timbre of his that was making you feel giddy before a jolt of pain rose up your chest again, "What am I---an animal?! Geralt, make it stop!"

Jaskier and Cirilla listened in silence. However, the bard fidgeted with the hem of his tunic; his mindless frets seeming to come up with such suggestions that will make everyone's mind boggle.

He raised a hand, not before taking a good look at you who had eyes pure of anguish and need which now focused at Geralt before he'd loudly cleared his throat, turning his head to see the witcher in distress from what other methods he could think of other than the impaling, "I have a proposal and an utterly brilliant idea to make the pain stop!"

Cirilla hushedly snorted, "His ideas are always nonsense. Don't listen to him, Geralt."

Jaskier placed his hands on his hips, pointing a finger at the princess, mouth opening before he was immediately ceased by Geralt himself.

"The princess is right, bard."

The sonneeter noted his lukewarm response, sounding like he actually opposes what Cirilla has reprimanded because all Geralt ever wanted and what clouds his mind is having his way with you, "---Give the small rat what she wants, Witcher. What if the pain carries on as nights go by? Give her the rumpy pumpy since that is always the answer to why an animal is in heat. It wants coitus, or if you've become one soft, romantic witcher; then I suggest to use the word, 'make love'." he emphasized, quoting the word 'make love' with both hands, his middle finger and index one folding as he said the last word with ardor.

Geralt was quick to scowl at that, exhaling an exasperated breath out of his nose as he hummed in protest; giving the bard his meanest glare, "You're saying she's an animal. You want me to take advantage of it?"

"No?" Jaskier quickly shook his head, groaning out; palms faintly hitting his forehead as he tried to act as if he was slapping it from Geralt's unreasonable assumptions. He continued, languidly blinking back at the frowning witcher, "---I didn't even say you would take advantage of the idea, you nincompoop! Then, do you want me to mate with her?"

It took him a second before he'd seen the latter started giving blazing daggers that had fire in it, his words seething as Geralt gruffly barked, "Absolutely not, bard!"

His glowing, amber eyes were boring holes at Jaskier before he lowly rumbled; more so to himself, trying to convince himself that there was another way.

He was dithering the idea of having you; not because he didn't find you pleasant, fetching, alluring or beautiful. Geralt found you in many types of wonderful adjectives he could tell, though mostly was kept inside his mind. The idea of having you, only to himself; ravishing you in ways that he ought to please kept him faltering because of one thing in his mind.

Vulnerability.

The witcher was thoroughly cautious of vulnerability because whenever it happens; once the walls have been broken down, there was always hindrance coming in his way and with the person he'd promised were important, or a person he loved because he knew that once he has you, Geralt was done for no matter how unstable he was.

You'll be seeing things you've never seen nor felt from him as he does the same way.

Especially, that you never came from their dimension and that the feelings he had for you was too strong to even control. But, the voices at the back of his mind was pulling him away from even pouring those emotions down because firstly, he didn't know how to show and second, there was a huge chance that you would also leave.

What if you leave? a person he'd treasured so much begins to leave him again?

Geralt mindlessly gritted his teeth together as he grumbled and grouched, avoiding the bard's eyes as he watched you shakily grab onto his palms that tenderly rested on the side of your face; leaning onto his touch as you looked at him; utterly lovestruck, "We'll find another way," pause. "---There has to be."

Though, it seems like the bard hasn't heard his beseeching and continued with his witful suggestions, "The only way is to impale her to cease the sufferings that the spell has cast upon her by the Djinn," Jaskier promptly stood up on his feet, his anxiety making him blurt out mindless blabbers he could ever think of, "---There is nothing to lose on this one, Geralt. Especially that you're...no offense---"

Geralt cut him off in haste, surly spitting out his words, "There is, Jaskier. Her purity."

Jaskier pointed back at the witcher, completely looking taken aback as he opened his mouth like he was stunned, "Oh." was the only thing he managed to say for the first few seconds before he quietly muttered, "OooooOh. She's a?"

The Ivory haired man gave a brief nod, "Untouched." he frankly informed as Cirilla quietly listened in the background with Kolby howling loudly in the middle of the night like a wolf in disguise, "---Oh! This is an unorthodox for the series of women that you have had, Geralt! Also, she's a rare one indeed!"

Jaskier couldn't help but feel dumbstruck from his suggestions, shamefully scratching the back of his nape as he has given the whole responsibility to Geralt because he could never help. He always never does because of some sorts that he couldn't explain, probably because he wasn't taught with these magical phenomena that Geralt expertly knows.

When the witcher has given you his attention, you've abruptly attacked him in a bear hug, arms tightly wrapped around his thick neck that you wanted to softly pepper kisses. As you were caging him in your arms, his delicious scent wafted through your nose, welcoming how it was indeed mouthwatering for your blazing appetite or carnal greed.

"I want to have you, Geralt. I--I need to have you! These thoughts inside my head...It needs you, I--I need you," you begged, softly pleading like there wasn't anyone around you; not noticing Cirilla, Kolby nor Jaskier as there was only one person in your mind. Geralt of Rivia. Your Geralt. Your witcher. The only person who gives you fluttering butterflies and wild ants inside your stomach and chest.

You've tucked your face in between your arm and his braided hair, breathing the back of his ear like a wild woman as Geralt stood still and heard your whimpers that went straight to his stronghold, his will in finding another method to help suddenly wavering from how soft and provocative it sounded that clouded his mind.

He turned relaxed in your arms, accepting the bear hug and probably loving how close you both were together after hours of not talking to each other. You've felt his calloused palm caress your clothed back, soothing your pained mewls that came after your sensual whimpers as it was unstable. Geralt gently unlatched your arms that surrounds him, his golden peepers meeting your baffled ones before he had no problem in scooping you up in his arms, like newly wed couples.

"We'll think of other ways, midget. Come. Let's help you with the heat,"

Cliffhanger before the smut? I’M SORRY, BB’S. LOVE MEEEE STILLLLLL!

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthorr @carrieannewaywardson @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi

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hpdabbles · 3 years

Text

Lovely Nightmares

Based off the Dig Two graves by @childotkw. Thank you again for permission to use as based idea!

“We find the defendant guilty on all charges.”

Harry stares upwards in shock as Tom Riddle- the boy he considered a friend, the one he told everything to, the one he believed made it all worth while to go to Hogwarts- turn his head away from him after damning him with his lies. He did well, playing the terrified bystander to someone who lost themselves in bloodlust and violent tendencies.

His witness statement made a few eyes tear up in pity for the muggleborn who had been tricked by the halfblood into cruel silence for the mistreatment he had to endure under Harry’s thumb until a fresh corpse forced him to speak out. He took everything he once thought made their friendship real and twisted it, to make him appear a murder.

A murder that the Ministry of Magic has now sentence to life in Azkaban.

Harry had not been fond of Myrtle Warren, mostly due her forceful flirtish behavior against him and other boys as well as her whining voice but he would never have hurt her much less kill her. In fact Harry often put himself between the girl and the bullies who followed her around. How people could forget that he never know.

Yes the last time he spoke to her, left the Ravencalw in tears but that was because Harry had rejected her as gently as he could. After she ran away from him unable to stand the rejection, she was found hours later dead in one of the girls bathroom.

Harry had been horrified and truly sorry to see the confuse ghost flout about lost in a way only the departed could be. She was so young, a soul that can not find rest even after her death. He along with the rest of the school were evacuated from their dorms, everyone speaking about the murder. The houses were keep separated in order to keep better track of the young, while preparations were made to have everyone sent home

It would be Hogwarts last year if the killer could not be found as it no longer meant the future of magic were safe within their walls. Harry was sadden to see such a important place go, especially as one of the first students to originally walk it’s halls, but he had been more worried about Tom because there were rumors that Warren had been killed for being a muggleborn.

Tom Riddle, the human mortal, was also a muggleborn. It tore Harry up inside to think he could be next. A victim. That he could disappear from this world.

He went to see him when he got the chance only for Tom to point him out to a pair of Aurors with wild desperate eyes “He did it! Harry Potter killed Myrtle Warren!”

Harry tried to defend himself but with the evidence Tom managed to present to the authorities he was dragged away with the school watching. The worst part had been Myrtle who was flouting one inch above the ground in the grand hall, her unseeing eyes watching him go with tears rolling down her face. “Why Harry...I loved you”

Her confession made it all the worst for him. Harry knew the Ministry of Magic tended to believe guilty until proven otherwise but even before he stepped into his court hearing he knew it was a kangaroo court.

They all believed he did it, the court hearing was just a formality.

“Harry James Potter shall be sentence to life in Azkaban for the crimes including the murder of Muggleborn Myrtle Warren, possession of illegal potions, Possession of dark magic, and commenting a murder on Hogwarts sacred ground.”

“What?! But I didn’t do it! Tom is lying! He’s lying!” Harry shouted in outrage struggling even as Aurors appears to drag him away. A strong grip on his shoulder and legs to the point of bruising is nothing compare to the smug eyes of Tom Riddle as the doors start to close. Harry allows his eyes to flash the bright green of his father’s magic for a second just to watch that attractive face spam in surprise. “You’ll pay for this Riddle. I hope the guilt eats you alive. I hope it never lets you rest!”

“That’s enough out of you” sneers the woman who is moving him. Harry turns to her just in time to watch her wand light up before everything goes dark. As he is falling, he forces words past his lips so the whole courtroom can hear his final words.

“I will make sure everyone in this room pays.” They do not know they ring with not just truth but with a curse. It would take them days to discover it but by then it would far too late.

He wakes to the sound of crashing waves, freezing cold and the screams of the inmates. Harry had been stripped of his Gryffindor uniform leaving him black and white stripped robes, his feet were bared and he has bruises all along his body. He laid on the stone ground, with no windows, no bed or bathroom from what he could tell. Flickers of near by torches made it hard to see but he thought there was a woman across from him leaning against her cell bars like a broken doll.

A dementor stood at his open cell door, likely left that way so that one of them could “accidently” feed on him while the guards were away, hovering uncertainty. Harry scowled at it. “What are you looking at?”

The creature twisted it’s head, taking a breath. The cold increased, causing shivers to run along Harry’s body, his human side effected by the magic of sorrow even though his father’s blood keep him level headed. It would take a while but eventually the coldness would sustained. The creature made a odd crocking sound that attracted the attention more of it’s kind.

The woman let out a whimper when the flouting masses of darkness glided by her cell. She threw her self away from them, pressing her bone skin back to the far wall. Harry silently sent her a apology even as his body finally adjusted to the Dementors peering at him from under their cloaks of shadows.

“I’m not a circus act” Harry snapped at them, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. A satisfyingly pop run up and down his back which sent the dementors into a frenzy, more of that odd croaking filling the air. It took him a moment to realize they were excited by him.

He squinted at them. Ah, these were young. Maybe only two thousand years old. They had never come across him or his father, because they were behaving much like teenagers meeting their idol. Not that he could blame them, Harry’s dad was pretty important to the likes of them.

A giant black dog rose up from the shadows in the corners then, causing the Demontors to go wild as the dog strutted by them wagging it’s tail to a pair on the right. The creatures did three flips in the air as they swoon. They would be gloating later to any of their kind that the great Grim had given them a haughty smirk no doubt. Harry rolled his eyes as the door twisted into his uncle Sirius.

“Harry!” The man said joyously, his dark curls framing his grinning face as the adult waved a finger at him. The spark of laughter in his silver eyes- a nice choice of his humanoid form Harry thinks. This one most definite matches humans’ idea of beauty- lets the half being know his uncle finds this all hilarious. “Why am I picking up my nephew from mortal prison? James is besides himself, young man. He allowed you to come down the these realm for a few years and you get thrown in jail!”

“Riddle framed me.” Harry shrugs slightly embarrassed his new life on Earth ended so abruptly. “He told everyone that I murdered someone.”

Sirius frowned, his canine peaking over his lip as he studied the boy who quickly laid down face first allowing his soul to detach from his body. “I thought you two were close. Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know but i intend to make his life hell.”

The Grim tilted his head as the soul of his nephew- Death’s son created between the personification of the end and a muggleborn woman named Lily many many eons ago- rose from it’s physically anchor his father created.

Since Harry is both half alive and half dead he could come and go between worlds. Usually James-as Death preferred to be called- ever few millennia would bend to his son’s boredom and send him down to Earth. It was a nice vacation from all the filing, soul collecting and transporting of souls the boy had to do. In truth James saw it more as sending Harry off to summer camp to experience more from his mother’s side instead of reincarnating him into a human anchor he design.

Lily lived in the Beyond, as she was full mortal, while James and Harry lived in a never ending castle in Between. They visited Lily in her private heaven often with James confidently heading over there after work but Harry yearn for the real world and not the one created by James’ will or Lily’s fondest memoires.

He had experience empires rise and fall, had taken many names and faces to match whatever whim of appearance James took up-last millennia he had sported blond hair and blue eyes which meant Harry did as while- but no one had ever made him feel as alive as Tom Riddle has.

“How do you plan to do that?” Sirius asked waving at the group of Dementors goodbye while opening his shadow so Harry could travel to his father’s realm.

“I’m going to appear in all of his dreams until the day he dies.” Harry growled sinking into the darkness. “The dream scape is the place I can bend to my will and Riddle will rue the day he ever double-crossed me.”

“Alright but you are going to be the one explaining to your father that you want to appear in a teenage boy’s dreams and not me. He never forgive me if I helped his dear baby Harry flirt like that.”

The darkness swallowed them up on Harry’s squeaking of denials his body left under the protection of Dementors who were the only witness to the strange happening.

Miles away Tom Riddle looked over at the Gryffindor table missing the strong green stare that always looked back him more then he will ever be willing to admit. He shivers abruptly when a cold sensation of a hand runs along the back of his neck to his shoulders.

That night he dreamed of Harry Potter by the black lake, smile soft and green eyes glowing. He took Tom’s hand to guide him into the water with a sweet laugh that made everything slow down as Tom jumped through the waves of a invisible breeze. Harry looked happy as they splashed about, the sky a clear blue for once and Tom could not look away from the vision Harry made.

Midway through the dream the water turn to blood, Harry’s smile fell and his heavy betrayed eyes bore into Tom’s as he the smell of copper rose. The mortal found himself incased in blood slowing dragging him down as he struggle to escape the chains the liquid had become around him.

No matter how hard he fought nothing could stop him from sinking further and further down all the while Harry watched him slowly drown. Tom tried to scream for help, to reach out towards him but the boy was unmoved until all he could see besides the red was Harry’s lips moving.

“Why Tom...why did you do it?”

Tom Riddle woke screaming drench in cold sweat.

#Harry Potter #hpdabbles #Lovely Nightmares #Tom Riddle really went and messed with Death's kid #Sirius is the Grim #In a Au where James is death and Lily the human made him fall in love #Harry's technically still at Azkaban #Tom may or may not learn to feel bad #Party 1 maybe?

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xncasi · 4 years

Text

EDIT: jdkdjfkdkd I DIDNT WRITE A TITLE & also cuz someone requested i will deliver: a pt 2 will follow!

just a short snippet of writing i felt like doing, based off the song “Butterfly’s Repose” by Zabawa :) i edited as i went along so it might be a bit messy, i’m sorry >>>

Dr. Spencer Reid x shy!reader

length: 11.2K

warnings: a LOTTA angst, small fluff, emotional abuse, death

—————————————————

Dr. Reid is one of many things, as y/n has noticed, but she’d never say that he was overtly emotional. From the time that she started working for the BAU until now, which has been about five years, she’s come to know this enigmatic man.

Not only has she gotten to know him though, but she’s begun to care about him. Sure, she cares deeply about the well-being of the team; which of its members wouldn’t? But this strong surge of emotions came early on and have since remained.

She can vividly recall the first case she’d worked on with her new coworkers, back when she was fresh to the BAU. The unsub’s signature had been riddles that apparently would reveal the location or subject of his next attacks. They’d spent night after night poring over those puzzles, and she can practically taste the bitter, old coffee that the station had offered them. But more fondly she can recall Dr. Reid’s furrowed brows, the way he’d sat for hours in front of papers, trying to write down new ideas that came to mind. Y/n can remember the way his eyes lit up when he finally pieced it all together, the quickness of his words and the way she struggled to understand.

Morgan had tried to jokingly explain Dr. Reid’s genius prior to her first case, but it wasn’t until she saw it in action that she truly understood. And, to be honest, she was intimidated.

Sure, she’d done well in her classes throughout her school career, but she’d fought so hard to reach her dream job. The endless late nights of studying and bitter tasting coffee had pushed her through all the required class credits she’d needed; y/n had never stopped working, never wanting to possibly even entertain the idea that she couldn’t make it. And to finally be able to say she’d succeeded, and then to walk through the doors of the FBI and BAU after a few years of working in the field; it was a dream come true!

And yet...she couldn’t ever quite understand how the genius was just so smart without even seeming to try. He could read full books in ten minutes, recite statistics he’d only read about once, and was able to piece together puzzles that saved countless lives. She wasn’t jealous, per-say, but she yearned to know how he did it and who he was.

And so, the quiet and reserved y/f/n watched. She wasn’t a woman of many words, and yet she’d still been able to contribute to a variety of cases. Hotch knew that despite her lack of words she was still a valuable asset, and that’s really all that mattered to her.

But that’s besides the point.

Around the year mark of her joining the BAU, something happened. Dr. Reid and her had been assigned by Hotch to interview the supposed unsub’s father one last time; they’d arrived thinking it’d be another simple interview, but the father ended up pulling a gun on them both and managed to shoot him in the leg. Something about “protecting his son” she believes, but one way or another it didn’t matter.

Dr. Reid had been bleeding so heavily that y/n had thought his femoral artery had been pierced. She’d shot down the father and then fallen beside her partner, doing her best to apply pressure to the oozing wound. Those few minutes they spent together had been filled with talking, something which she hadn’t been very good at. Who is she kidding, she STILL isn’t good at it!

But anyways, getting back to the point--

To keep Dr. Reid alert, y/n had made small conversation with him. She’d asked about his favorite books, and then his favorite lines from those books. She questioned his music taste and took mental notes on all of it. So was it a surprise to him when he’d woken up to her asleep next to his hospital bed, one of his favorite books laying haphazardly in her lap?

She isn’t sure.

After that, their friendship blossomed. Dr. Reid would talk about his favorite books, music, or movies and y/n would listen. They’d often meet up for coffee and walk to work together, and they often were paired up during cases because of their efficiency together. Y/n favored the quieter, library-like settings of a cafe and Dr. Reid would follow suit; bars were never exactly his thing anyways. They shared coffee and tea recommendations, they’d converse about classical literature, and sometimes he would accidentally spoil books for her because of how fast he read.

(She’d never forgive him for spoiling the ending of “A Farewell to Arms.”)

The friendship between the two of them was strong, and it grew to a point where y/n might’ve even considered him to be her best friend.

In her third year at the BAU, though, y/n had started dating a guy outside of work. At first it started okay; they’d go on romantic dates to fancy Italian restaurants, the ones where Frank Sinatra played in the background of a dimly lit, large room. He’d brought her her favorite flowers, and he even tried to drink the tea she liked. And Dr. Reid had put up with it all, only crossly wondering to himself WHY he felt so agitated whenever y/n would bring her new beau to their bar nights. Why wouldn’t he be happy for her? Y/n was his best friend after all, and she deserved to have a man who loved her.

Around the third month of their relationship though, he began to notice how much more exhausted y/n had become. She often was late or didn’t show up to get coffee with him in the mornings, and she was unusually silent towards everyone when working cases. Whenever she had to take phone calls she’d step outside, and Dr. Reid had to simply pretend like he didn’t see her strained expressions when she entered the room again. This continued on for a good two months before he finally stepped up and asked y/n what was going on.

It was their first fight.

He’d simply asked if she’d been doing okay, and y/n snapped. The dark bags under her eyes and the frazzled appearance she had screamed that no, contrary to whatever she was saying she wasn’t alright. There wasn’t anything he could do though, not when she raised her voice at him for asking about her well-being. So he dropped it.

He hadn’t expected her to reach back out so soon again though, especially not the exact same night of their squabble. Dr. Reid had been flipping through the pages of an old book he was rereading when his phone began to ring. Surprised at the thought that anyone would want to talk to him at this hour, he’d picked up his phone only to hear her sniffling on the line. She’d quietly apologized many times over, but no matter what he said he couldn’t get her to tell him why she’d called. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice yelling in the background and a yelp of fear that he understood.

Promising to be over soon, Dr. Reid threw his heavy jacket over his shoulders and headed out into the cold and rainy night. The whole way there he’d been touching his phone, wondering if he should’ve call again. What if something happened while he was making his way there? Should he have called the police before leaving? At least he would’ve known then that she would’ve been okay. As he pulled up to the front of y/n’s apartment complex, he spots y/n shivering miserably on the front steps.

It’s less than twenty minutes before she’s back in his warm apartment, in a dry, borrowed pair of pajama pants and one of his old t-shirts. He hadn’t asked her specifically what had happened, not wanting to dredge up any of their earlier fight, but she’d still managed to find herself talking. Dr. Reid had only just given y/n a steaming cup of tea when she’d broken down, salty tears running down her red cheeks and staining the borrowed shirt. He’d settled beside her on his couch, highly aware of the warmth emanating from her body and the way her tearful gaze avoided his. With some gentle coaxing he managed to get an explanation out of y/n.

Her boyfriend had been cheating for upwards of two months, but she hadn’t been able to leave because of his threats. They’d always changed from one night to the next, but most of them held the same message: if you leave me, I’ll kill myself or hurt you.

Now Dr. Reid had never considered himself to be an angry person; competition was something he avoided for the most part, and he was incredibly slow to anger. This, though, this made his blood boil.

And so the young man had gathered y/n in his arms, comforting his best friend as he remained fully aware of how close they physically were. He told himself that this is what friends did, and her? Well, she was too far gone in her own mind to possibly even consider what could’ve been passing between them.

Now, though, she’s fully aware of how close he is to her. Much like on that night, when Dr. Reid, no -- Spencer -- held her, she’d felt safe. Wrapped in the doctor’s arms she’d known nothing could’ve reached her, not if he didn’t want it to.

Pressed up against his chest, y/n can feel the past two years of uncertain flirting and the dancing around each other dissipate. The months of awkward glances and longing stares has finally reached a head, finally manifested into real touches and love-filled gazes.

She only wished it had happened sooner.

She wished it had happened long before this case, long before they’d flown out here to take on the serial shooter that’d been terrorizing this city. Because now, with her blood pouring out of her chest and abdomen, she knows she has no time left. There’s no more time for first kisses or late night talks, no more shared coffee breaks or reading to each other while curled up together under a blanket.

Spencer, her best friend who’d she’d loved for so long, has no time either.

He’s holding onto his best friend’s body, pressing her to his chest with tears welling in his eyes. Sirens sound in the distance, possibly growing closer, but they’re too muted for him to be able to tell. He’d heard the shots and had come running, but it’d been too late. Y/n had been shot four times, three times in the chest and once in the abdomen. She’d toppled over, shock written all over her face as her gun had clattered to the ground beside her.

And now, she can barely remember any of it. She can still feel the ringing in her ears, but now she’s beginning to realize how hard it is to breath. She can taste the metallic tang of blood, and as she coughs and splutters she can feel it running over her lips. It’s warm, too warm.

Fear begins to overpower her, and she finds herself uncontrollably shaking. “S-Spencer, I d-don’t wanna die,” she rasps, her y/e/c, tear-filled eyes turning to look up into his chocolate brown ones.

He has to swallow back his own tears, fighting to hold on as he looks down at the person he’s cared about for so long. Stroking her cheek with his thumb, he shakes his head. “Honey, hold on for me, okay?” he asks gently, his voice cracking.

“I promise I won’t leave you,” he murmurs, tears beginning to slide down his cheeks. Y/n whimpers as she begins to feel a tingling numbness move up her legs. “Spencer, I-I...I love y-you,” she whispers, her hand shakily reaching up for his face.

Leaning down into the body in his lap, Spencer Reid presses his forehead against his best friend’s.

Softly pressing his chapped lips to her bloodstained ones, he gently pulls away and rasps, “I know.”

As y/n’s eyes begin to flutter closed, she grasps onto her best friend’s hand for dear life and lets out one last, heart-wrenching sob.

#spencer reid #dr. reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #cm #dr. reid x reader #agent spencer reid #agent reid #spencer reid x you

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hs-devote · 3 years

Text

20. E N D G A M E

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows. Previous chapter;

"And it will be better for us, to help us to move on with each other's lives."

Move on with each other's lives.

Was that what she wanted?

20. ENDGAME

“How's him, Niall?”

“He's .. he's getting worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't even feel him anymore.” . . . .

It had been months since Y/N decided to take proper rest to help her syndrome. At the first few months, she was overwhelmed by her poor brain performance. She had almost burnt her kitchen because she forgot how to turn off the stove all of a sudden. One day, she even forgot where her apartment was after going out for grocery shopping. The poor woman was anxious, making her cry in the middle of the street. Luckily for her, her neighbour found her and drove her home.

Her parents were worried, of course. They both were agreed to Y/N to came back home in Swansea, for them were easier to look after her. After all, she had no one in London anymore.

During that time too, she underwent routine treatments to restore her condition. From drugs to a few therapies. To this day, her condition was better, although sometimes she still got light headaches.

If her health had improved, her heart wasn't completely healed.

No matter how hard she tried to forget her broken relationship, especially him, she couldn't. Harry was too beautiful to be forgotten. Despite what happened last time, she couldn't lie even if her tongue said another.

She remembered the last time, really last time, when she met him in his penthouse to pick up her things. Y/N indeed hadn't lived with Harry yet, but since she often stayed at his place, he suggested her to bring some her things to his penthouse.

He looked skinnier, and his face looked tired. From what she heard from Suzanne, Harry's loss of appetite made him lost weight. Plus, time-consuming work also made him forget to rest. Y/N had scolded at him for refusing to eat his lunch at that time, and made her had to force her ex-boyfriend to eat even a little.

But Harry was Harry.

He would eat if she also had lunch with him. She refused at first, yet because she felt bad with Suzanne who had made the food, then she finally agreed. On the other hand, she was a bit sad that their lunch at that time was so different. If usually they would have a conversation, for the first time, only the sound of plates and cutlery between them.

Harry.

She missed him very much.

The two of them no longer in touch after that. She still had his number, but did he?

She didn't know.

Nevertheless, he sent her a flower bouquet for her twenty-fourth birthday. She remembered very well what Harry wrote on the card. A simple birthday wishing. Yet, he didn't call her nor text her.

Well, what did she expect?

They broke up.

She was the one who broke their relationship first.

She was the one who told him to move on.

Why was she still yearning for him?

Because Y/N broke them when she was falling in love for the first time.

Did she regret it?

Y/N couldn't answer that. . . . .

Y/N just returned home after buying food for her fish. Yes, she had two goldfish to keep her company if she got bored. Her eyes caught an unfamiliar car parked in front of her house, a quite expensive car for the neighbourhood where she lived.

Shrugged it off, she ignored her thoughts and immediately went in. In the living room, she saw her brother was talking to a woman. Was this his girlfriend? But, he didn't say anything.

When she was about to say hello to them, her smile faded as she recognised the lady who had been sitting back facing her.

“Clementia?”

“Hi..” Clementia shyly waved her hand, smiling softly. Y/N averted her gaze to Connor, raising an eyebrow – asking for some explanation. How did he know Harry's sister?

“She comes looking for you,” he shrugged, “Well, I'll leave you two.” then leaving both the girls alone.

“How are you, Y/N?” Clementia asked her once she took a vacant seat available, “It's been too long.”

“I'm fine, Ce. You?”

“Good.”

She nodded, “What are you doing here?”

“Err..” Clementia bit her lip, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Looking confused to answer Y/N question.

“We need your help.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow, “What kind of help?”

Something must gone wrong. There was no way Clementia had come all the way here asking for something unimportant. She wouldn't ditch her school in Italy and come to Swansea for only meeting her and having a casual conversation. Or, maybe she was on her semester break?

“It's Harry.”

“Harry?”

“Yes,” Clementia sighed, “You're our only hope, Y/N. Just like Niall told me.”

What did Niall say to Clementia? What actually happened?

"I... I don't understand," Y/N laughed nervously, "We're not a relationship anymore if you don't know."

“I know. But– ”

“Harry's condition is worrying, Y/N.”

Her head snapped to the where the voice came. There, Niall was standing at her door, with his arrival that she didn't know. Since when he was there?

“I'm sorry I just come,” Niall spoke, “Traffic was quite shit today.”

While Clementia just rolled her eyes, Y/N stared at Niall anxiously. What did he mean by that? Did Harry have an accident?

“What do you mean, Niall?” she asked quietly.

“Harry.. has been so stressed lately. Making him lost control of his emotions. He seemed not to care about his life anymore, and that makes Marcel take the opportunity.”

Y/N's eyes widened the time Niall said Marcel. He was sitting next to Clementia, how could he slip like that?

“I already know Harry's condition and who is Marcel.” Clementia spoke to answer her thought.

“And your mother?”

"She knows too. That's why she didn't come here, have to set an eye to him." Clementia nodded, "It broke my heart that Harry has such a hard life. It's not his fault that he.. he grew another personality that eats him alive."

“What exactly happened to him?” Y/N questioned after a minuted passed in silence. Hearing Marcel's name, made her shudder a little. It had been so long since she had heard Marcel and Harry's name pronounced in one sentence.

Marcel.

How was he?

"Marcel is the one who lives in Harry's body as we speak now. Harry is getting weaker, and hasn't been able to come back with us for more than a month." Niall rubbed his face, "We're afraid that... Harry will gone.”

Her heart felt like being electrocuted when she heard that. Marcel took over Harry's body, and her ex-boyfriend had no strength to fight him. And it had been going for a month. A month.

A month, Harry never came back to his place.

And he didn't care anymore.

Why?

“No way,” she chuckled incredulously, “The last time I met him, he said that Marcel refused to show up.”

“It's because he took his time,” Niall answered, “He saved his energy and knocked Harry out when he was weak.”

“And why couldn't Harry fight him? Why didn't he care?” Y/N bombarded him questions, “Harry should be strong enough. He has no more burden because Erskine was back to normal.”

“It's you, Y/N.” Clementia squeaked.

Y/N pointed her finger dumbfounded to her chest, “Me?”

"My brother is very sad and depressed with your break up," Clementia murmured, "He thought too much of your separation to make him forget about his health, and he feels guilty for failing to protect you from the incident with your head."

It was because of her..

Y/N speechless.

She didn't think this would all be bad for his condition. She didn't know Harry would take it too seriously.

“Has Marcel done anything... bad?" she asked carefully. She wasn't sure if Clementia also knew what crimes Marcel had committed. Her feelings worsened when Niall looked confused to answer while Clementia just lowered her head and leaned back.

“He killed Dale.” . . . .

Returning to London was quite nice. For a long time she left this city, made her miss some places. Y/N would stay for two days in London, and since she was agreed to help the Styles family, she would try to talk to Harry, or Marcel.

She couldn't refuse their request, especially Anne also called her and begged her to meet her son – hoping that Harry would listen to him, even though he was deep in his subconscious.

One more fact she wanted to know, why Marcel killed Dale?

That disgusting human had already rotten in jail, why did he have to get his hands dirty – again?

Despite her worries, she was a bit happy to meet him despite this difficult situation.

Back to set foot on his building, pulling her to play back the memories of her and Harry. She remembered when they were pretty drunk, and luckily only his penthouse was on that floor, they were making out all the way to his home. Moaning out loud in the hallway, stumbling in the dim light as Harry tried to unlock his door. It was midnight, and there was only two of them there. And the rest, their scattered clothes on the floor being the silent witnesses.

Her cheeks became hot just to think about it.

Harry.. Oh, fuck..

She was startled when the door in front of her being opened, showing Anne who smiled kindly at her.

Since when had she gotten to Harry's floor and rang the bell?

Anne brought her body to her warm embrace, “Hi, darling. How are you?”

“I'm good, Anne.” Y/N smiled fondly.

“You must be tired of the long journey. Where's Niall? You should have come with him right?"

Niall?

“Yeah, yeah. I'm here.” An Irish voice came from behind her.

How could she forget that she came here with Niall?

Y/N laughed at her stupidity inwardly.

Harry's penthouse was quite quiet. She didn't see Suzanne, only Clementia who was busy on the stove. Anne kindly poured them a drink before sitting down with them. Her happy face now turned sadder than before.

"Thank you for coming, Y/N. It means a lot for us." Anne smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry if it bothers you. I don't know anyone else to ask for help."

"It's okay, Anne. I understand." Y/N gave her a small smile, "How's him?”

“He's still.. Marcel.” Anne carefully answered, “I don't see Harry in him. He isn't annoying as before, but it still different.”

“Has he done anything all this time?”

“Besides.. killed Dale?” Anne whispered, “Not really. He was just been awful, a bit rude, but he wasn't physically abusive.”

Anne knew Marcel killed Dale.. “But, still. We don't know next.” Niall murmured, “We have to be careful and not make him angry.”

“He wouldn't lay off his hand at a female." then, Y/N stared at Niall, "But, I agree with Niall."

Suddenly, they flinched when they heard a scattering loud from Harry's bedroom. When Y/N looked at Anne, the old lady just closed her eyes and rubbed her face while Niall swiftly getting up from the couch.

“I'll prepare his medicine, and shot– just in case.”

“Can I see him, Anne?" she spoke quietly. Anne just nodded and warned her to be careful. Giving Harry's mother reassuring smile, she brought her leg to his bedroom.

She wasn't too surprised to find broken glass scattered near the door. She entered slowly and found Marcel staring at his laptop screen. The man didn't seem to have noticed her presence yet. After gathering courage, Y/N stepped closer to him.

“Marcel.”

Hearing her voice, Marcel averted his gaze towards her. His forehead creased in surprise, looking at the woman who hadn't he saw for months. He shrugged, shaking his head unbothered.

“What are you doing here?”

His voice was surprisingly calm. Yet, Y/N still had to be careful. He was Marcel after all, not her Harry.

“Didn't you miss me, huh?” she tested the water, she even didn't know if Marcel wanted her presence let alone miss her. She couldn't straight to the point asking why he threw Harry's favourite mug, why Harry didn't bother to back in his body, and why he killed Marcel.

“Wrong person, Y/N. Harry was the one who suffered because he missed you, a lot.” Marcel snickered, “Poor Harry was so fragile about love, pathetic.”

“Marcel, I didn't come here to fight with you.” Y/N sighed, “I just want to.. talk with you. Like a friend?”

Her last sentence was more a question to herself, because she wasn't even sure.. they were friends. She sighed heavily when Marcel still unbothered, and with careful steps, she walked closer to him.

“Why are you so selfish like this, Marcel? You took the opportunity when Harry was weak and control his body at will. You must remember, Harry is a part of you. You're nothing if it's not because of him."

“You know nothing, my darling.” Marcel shook his head, lifting his head up to stare at the girl who was looking at his dark irises. “When Harry had given up on his life, I couldn't let him leave it all. If Harry didn't want to stay and I didn't act fast, this body would be lifeless. He would be sleeping, so would I. And then, what?”

She didn't mishear that, did she? Why Harry gave up on his life? He still had so much more in his life, why did he think like that?

“Why?” she murmured, “What caused him to think that way?”

“You.”

Y/N widened her eyes, “Me?”

“Like what I just said. He was so desperate. He feels like everything is wasted if you're not with him anymore.” he rolled his eyes, “He was very hurt because he loves you very much.”

He was drowning on his own love..

"And you didn't try to persuade him?" she changed the topic. Y/N couldn't keep hearing Harry who was sounded unable to move on and be the most hurt. She was hurt too, but she realised the reality that had slapped her sweet dream.

“Believe me, Y/N. Despite I'm satisfied with this opportunity, I also miss my dark corner.” Marcel worked his jaw, “Being him is not easy.”

“Fine,” Y/N whispered, “Then, why did you kill Dale Jespersen?”

“One of the reasons he was tired of everything was also because I killed Dale," Marcel put the laptop away, going to the chair facing the window. His fingers rubbed his chin while staring at Y/N who was still standing next to the bed.

“Dale Jespersen appeared all of sudden and blocked Harry's car one night. Your ex-boyfriend just came back from the office and was so shocked. How could someone who was supposed to be in a prison roam freely at night? Long story short, that prick bribed the officers there to release him that night, only to meet Harry. And of course, for revenge."

Y/N shook her head in disbelief, “How could that be?”

“He said something offensive and... he was gone.” he gave her innocence look, “Don't think about how I got rid of him. Be glad Harry didn't end up in prison.”

“But your family know!” she cried, “How fucked up was that?”

“Yes, they do. But the world doesn't. Good thing Harry has money and connections so I can use that. After all, Dale was alone on his own self in this earth. Why was he still in this world."

“I can't.. with you, Marcel.” she pinched her forehead, “I just.. I just don't know the way you're thinking.”

“Then, why are you here?” he scoffed, “If you're trying to call him, good luck then. Because if you don't hurry, you'll lose him.”

Grunted irritably, Y/N got up from her spot and left Marcel who still seemed not care about her. However, she was sure Harry still could her and felt her presence despite he didn't want to reveal himself.

“I know you're there, H. Please come back. Don't be scared. I'm here, and we'll be alright.”

And that was all she said before leaving him alone. Letting the words crawling inside his mind and soul. . . . . Y/N had no luck talking to Marcel. Not her fault, but it looked like Harry indeed had given up. Yet, she was also wondering if he could feel her presence that day. Didn't he want to meet her?

She also stayed longer in London than she planned. Her parents didn't mind, but Connor was the one who scolded her on the phone. Her brother knew why she went to London, and he didn't like that. He didn't like the idea of her sister help the man who made her cry for days after their broke up despite he didn't know why exactly they broke up. He just knew that things couldn't work between them so she decided to back off. He didn't know which one was wrong. But, one thing he knew, he would do anything to protect Y/N, no matter what.

Anne insisted her to stay at Harry's penthouse at first, but she remembered the circumstance, so she understood when Y/N refused gently.

The girl stayed at a hotel that Anne booked for her for another week, and she was very grateful and making a mental note to pay Anne's kindness someday.

That night, Y/N was trying to find a new job because she thought her condition had improved. She was also thinking about trying to apply for a postgraduate scholarship if she couldn't find any job. There were several vacancies on the internet that made her interested.

It was one in the midnight and she had to get her things ready as she would get back to Swansea tomorrow. After closing her laptop, she quickly packed her things and got to bed early because her train would leave in the morning. But, when she was about to brush her teeth, her mobile phone rang a few times. She frowned when seeing Niall's name on the screen.

“Hello, Niall?” she said softly, her palm closed her yawning mouth. Her eyes, which were heavy with sleepiness, suddenly opened up widely after hearing Niall's panicked voice at the end of the call.

“You're joking, aren't you?” Y/N didn't know if she was screaming or not. It was clear that her tone was quite high and she realised that. Her hands suddenly sweating, making her almost drop her mobile phone.

The last thing she knew, she sprinted to grab her jacket and hurried out of her hotel room.

. . . . Here, everything was so quiet. Y/N heard almost nothing but the beeping machine. Her heavy eyes grew heavier because of the tears that flowed when Anne hugged her while sobbing violently earlier. She had never seen Anne so frail and sad before, and that made her heart ache even more.

Her sleepiness disappeared at the second Niall called her and giving her the news that sucked her life out.

Harry was involved in a car crash and in critical condition.

Niall didn't give the full chronology. As far as she knew from him, Harry drove off the track and his car was hit from behind before hitting the divider. Also, he was drunk while driving.

Now, the man was lying unconscious with wires connected between his body and the machine beside his bed. A few scratches on his face didn't make any better. The bandage wrapped around his head reminded her when she had the same one back then.

The doctor said, if Harry would get through his critical condition tonight, he would probably survive. If he wouldn't, Y/N couldn't imagine what would happen.

If Y/N now was sitting beside Harry's bed and watching every inch of this man in front of her. His family was outside giving her time to see her ex-boyfriend.

She slowly took Harry's free hand and hold it tight. Her wistful eyes stared straight at him who still sleeping soundlessly. Smiling sadly, she could still sense the confused and panicked feeling ran through her body when she was leaving her hotel room and rushed to meet Niall who was waiting for her in the lobby.

The poor man got a slap from her when she thought he was lying and joking around. But, when he said it with a serious face, almost screaming at her, Y/N knew Niall wasn't joking. She felt that was real when he grabbed her hand quickly and pushed her into his car. They didn't have much time. Niall was driving fast, with her still dumbfounded. She felt even more dumbfounded when she realised she just wore shorts and a baggy shirt. But her jacket was likely saved her from such an inappropriate clothing choice.

“You can do it, H.” whispered her, taking his hand to rub her cheek, “Get better, please.”

Y/N knew everyone wouldn't sleep tonight waiting for him to go through his critical moment. It was almost four in the morning, only a few hours until the doctor could say that he was successful and she couldn't wait for it.

“I feel bad that I'm the one who sitting here and not your mother. But, that's okay. Anne should take a rest, as well as your family." she hummed, her eyes constantly glancing at the machine displaying the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Normal..

“I haven't told you that I like the flowers. The one that you sent me on my birthday. They were beautiful, H.”

“I also sent you a sunglasses for your birthday. Did you like it? Because I heard no words from you.” she sighed, “I know it's not Gucci but I think it suits you.”

Y/N chuckled slightly, looking at his bare fingers. “They removed your rings? Or, you didn't wear any?

“Why were you driving drunkenly, H? You told me once that you avoid that it as much as possible." she frowned, "Was it Marcel? I–"

Weird.

She heard a strange sound.

Her eyes stared at Harry who was still unconscious. Then, who made that sound? It was just both of them there.

Suddenly, the colour on her face was drained out like she just realised something. No, she didn't want to say that. She didn't want to lift her head or averted her gaze. Her vision still fixated on Harry who looked so calm in his deep sleep.

No...

No way.

Y/N flicked her head to where the machine was, only finding that his heartbeat was flat line.

Flat.

No rising or falling charts.

Like before.

No.

“No!”

The chair she was sitting on, fell backwards when she stood up and immediately grabbed Harry's shoulders, shaking him as hard as possible.

“Harry? Harry! Harry, please!”

Her finger quickly pressed the emergency button and again tried to wake him who she knew was impossible. Her mind was chaotic, it felt like her brain was paralyzed to digest everything, her hands were shaking and sweaty and so cold. She hed never panicked and feared this much.

“Harry..”

Her voice was shaking, head began to feel dizzy. Her eyes began to blur because of the tears that were ready to flood, and repeatedly stared at the machine and Harry's face back and forth.

The line was still flat.

And Harry still had no movement.

She couldn't help it. Finally, she let the tears fell down her face. Sobbing violently, her inner goddess was cursing the doctor who hadn't come yet.

“Harry, please. Wake up! Don't do this!" she whispered, stroking his face which still felt warm under her fingertips.

Why were they taking so long!?

She choked in a sob, "Harry, please. Please. We're not doing this!"

“Don't die on me, please!" screamed her in agony. She couldn't bear the thought she lost him. She didn't want to lose him. Not now, not later, not ever.

“H,” she cried, holding Harry's head and stroking his hair softly. “No, please. Don't – don't.. leave me. I – I can't.. lose – lose you. Please.”

“I'm so – sorry that .. that I haven't – haven't said that. I forgive you, H.”

“I'm sorry – sorry for.. everything. You're – you're not... the only one was – was wrong." she cried harder, "I shouldn't – shouldn't … given up on you."

She shook her head, didn't want to accept the reality that had happened. Harry couldn't die. He wouldn't.

“Harry, please.” she once again shook his limp body. The sound of the machine that had been her nightmare now was filling her head, it got louder and louder and made her nauseous. They were still flat, and Y/N didn't know how long it had been.

“Don't leave me, Harry. Don't leave your mother, your sister. And everyone who loves you.” she stammered, eyes squeezed tightly.

With shaking shoulder, Y/N stroked his jaw and brought her mouth closer to his ear, "I love you, don't do this to me, please. We still have so much together. I love you, H.."

She flinched when the door opened suddenly and a nurse tugged her gently so the doctor could check on him. She couldn't hear what they were telling her. All she knew, the next second she got out from the room with tears flowing profusely and body shaking. From her blurry vision, she could see Clementia and Niall approaching her. She shook her head, was speechless and head was spinning and ears ringing badly. The last thing she felt, her body fell to the floor. . . . .

Two years later.

Y/N's tasks that day almost made her head explode, plus her co-worker being uncooperative doubled her irritation. She knew, working in an international financial institution had its perks. Her previous job was nothing compared to now. Not that she underestimated them all, yet this was the first time she felt her energy and mind really drained out. Moreover, she would likely to travel to Washington D.C to attend conferences, a lot.

“Yes, yes. Send them all to me by tomorrow afternoon. Thanks, Bobby!” Y/N gave her co-worker thumb out before waltzed out from the meeting room, heading to her office.

“Tough day, Y/N?” Sienna wiggled her eyes, teasing Y/N who just entered the break room to grab a drink first. Y/N just nodded, filling up her tumbler with mineral water.

“Everyone almost gets my nerves today," she murmured, "Plus, I just landed from New York last night and the jetlag was a nightmare. I couldn't sleep during the flight and my eyes wouldn't let me rest."

“Lucky for you, it's Friday! And, I think your fiance won't mind to help you to get relax for the rest of weekend." Sienna winked her eyes, "Don't be so tense, Y/N!" and leaving Y/N alone with a bursting laugh.

Y/N shook her head, leaving the break room unoccupied since she had a lot to do and must be finished today. When she got her office, she found a bouquet of her favourite flowers with her favourite chocolate bar. Chuckled giddily, she closed the door behind her and walked closer to her desk. Her manicured fingers picked up the card laid on top his desk, her eyes immediately recognised the familiar handwriting.

Hard day? I hope you love the flowers and enjoy the chocolate bar. I know you're on a dairy diet but nothing is better than seeing you happy.

Ps: I made a reservation at the Royal Lancaster tonight, 8 p.m sharp. Your darling fiance

Fiance.

He always knew how to made her smile even at any time. Smiling softly, Y/N grabbed the flowers and smelt them before putting at the vase. Her hand then took the chocolate while turning on her computer, but when she saw the ring on her fourth finger on her left hand, her memory pulled her back when he popped the question.

They were in Switzerland for Christmas holiday. It was when the Christmas morning, and was snowing heavily. She had just made them hot chocolate since they stayed at the Bernese Alps and the cold was crazy, and he told her it was the time to open their presents. At that time, she didn't have the clue if the proposal being her present.

When he pulled the red box out and slid it open, her eyes fixated to the ring sat on the cushion. It was the Cartier platinum ring paved with diamonds cut. That shiny and beautiful thing caught her attention, ignored him who knelt in front of her. When Y/N just realised it, she quickly jolted and gasped – closing her gaping mouth. Even though he proposed her with simple words, she knew that her man was nervous as hell because his hands were shaking while holding the ring.

With an ugly sob, Y/N nodded meekly and said yes to his proposal.

What a beautiful moment.

She chuckled lightly and then returning to her work, excited to get them done as she couldn't wait to meet him. Five days in New York made her missed her fiance so much.

Later that evening, Y/N succeed to have her task done by 6. She hurriedly shut down her computer and took her things to immediately meet her fiance who was waiting in the parking lot, even made Sienna teased her in such a haste. Her smile grew bigger after spotting a silver Porsche in the VIP section. Wasting no time, she jogged to the car and opened the door.

“Hello, there.”

“Hi,” she waved at him and get in, “I'm sorry for taking to long.”

“Looks like you did have a hard day."

Y/N hummed, closing the door and putting the safety belt. Then, she turned her head to him and grabbed his neck to land a kiss on his plump lips. The fiance himself happily savouring her lips like it was the only antidote in the universe. The kiss only lasted for a few seconds before she pulled back, grinning at him. "Thank you for the flowers and chocolate. I love it."

He chuckled, wiping her wet lips affectionately, “Glad to hear that. Shall we go now?”

“Sure.”

She leaned back to the seat as the car moving down to the street, sighed happily because she finally could relax after a full day of stress plus the lacking of sleep.

“Is there anything special that you take me out for fancy dinner tonight?” asked her while looking at her fiance. A little smile formed on her lips while caught her fiance was so focused behind the steering wheel.

“Eh, no. Why?” he asked back, throwing her a quick glance.

She shrugged, “I'm wondering. I mean.. it's not saturday night.”

He chuckled, “Is it a crime that I take my fiancee to have a dinner not on saturday night?”

“Heyy..”

“Little birdie told me that you pissed all day long. So, I think a nice dinner will cheer you up.”

“How thoughtful of you.” she grinned, “Thank you, though.”

“I'm doing my best.”

If her fiance hadn't realised yet, Y/N kept her eyes on him all the journey. She found that the way he drove was so endearing. Especially when he was biting his lips or licked them while waiting for the red light. While his right hand remained on the wheel, his left hand never left her grasp unless he had to shift the gear.

“Why did you keep staring at me?” he questioned, even though they had been together for a long time, but such a small gesture still made him nervous.

“Why do I find a man is so attractive when he's driving,” she whispered, “Especially you.”

“Don't start, darling. We're in the middle of street right now.”

“I'm not.” she widened her eyes, “Do you think I was.. teasing you?”

“Obviously,” he snickered, “If not, you wouldn't squeeze your thighs together, darling.”

How obvious he did know that?

“We don't want to be late because I fucked you at the gas station over there, do we?” he smirked, “We just have forty-five minutes to get there.”

“Challenge accepted. We both know you can finish me in twenty minutes anyway, H.” . . . .

Harry felt numb.

The second he opened his eyes, the lights blinded his eyes and made him wonder if he was in heaven. Yet, he breathed in relieved when his gaze sharpened and he heard the beeping machine beside him. His suspicion strengthened when he lifted his hand and finding an IV stuck in his hand.

He was in a hospital.

And he was survived.

Then, the door bursting open quietly made him turned his head, looking at Anne who just entered with a shocked face. A relief radiated from the eyes of the woman who gave birth to him.

“Mum?”

His throat was sore along with hoarse voice, but he made it clear that he was fine by flashing his mother a small smile.

“Oh, Harry.” Anne mewled, stepping closer to her son, “You're awake.” and peppering kiss on his cheek.

“I am.”

“How do you feel? You're pretty banged up.” Anne stroked his unruly hair while sitting on the chair beside his bed.

“My body hurts, but it's okay. I'm fine.”

Anne gave him apologetically smile, “Okay, then. I'll call the doctors so they can check your condition.”

Harry was checked up not long after that. The doctor said he had improved and could go home within a week. He was being told that he was lucky because the car crash was quite fatal yet he had no serious injuries, jut a few stitches on the temples. But, he was quite surprised when Anne said that he had lost his heartbeat for a while.

He didn't know how long he had been asleep. The last time he was awake when Clementia was out for lunch and left him alone in the room. He loved to sleep, but he hated the pain hammering his head when he just woke up.

“Fuck.” he mumbled while touching his bandaged head.

“Is it hurt? Do I need to call the doctor?”

He never snapped his head that fast, was surprised to hear the voice he missed so much. He felt he was hallucinating when he saw Y/N looking at him worriedly.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Harry.” she said timidly, “How are you feeling?”

“Hi.”

Harry didn't know how to feel. He was happy, but on the other hand, he also confused. During Y/N talked to him, he couldn't focus. Not only his head still feel dizzy, he felt like he was high on drugs. Everything felt like floating.

“I'm sorry it took me almost lost you to realise how wrong I was.” Y/N fumbled her fingers, “I'm too late to say I've forgiven you.”

“It's okay, Y/N. I understand.” Harry exhaled, “It's not your fault alone.”

“Why were you driving drunk?” seeing the hesitant on his eyes, Y/N felt bad and changed the topic, “It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. I just.. worried.”

“Marcel was drunk, and took the opportunity to have one night stand with a striptease dancer there. I couldn't let it happen. So, I tried to take over and quickly left." he sighed, "Even it was him who was drunk, I would also get drunk when I got over the body."

“And why would you choose to take over?”

“Because I don't want to disappoint you, Y/N.” he admitted while looking through at her eyes, “I knew if.. if that happened, you would hate me even more.”

“Harry.." Y/N whispered, "If.. if that really happened, it wasn't your fault. It was Marcel. Even though you and him are one, you both are still different and I have to understand that. Not all his fault should I blame on you. If I can understand you, I should be able to understand him too."

“It's impossible, Y/N. No one would accept a disorder like me.��

“You're not a disorder, Harry. You're just different and special... "

“... If I can love you, I have to love him too.”

It caught him off guard.

Did he hear correctly?

He didn't mishear, did he?

Y/N smiled softly seeing Harry who looked dumbfounded, staring at her like she just grew an antler. Then, she grabbed his free hand and rubbed his knuckle, "I'm sorry for the long waiting. I'm sorry it took me almost losing you to realise that I love you."

“When did you first know?” his voice was barely audible, he couldn't believe his voice to speak. It was more like his soul spoke for him.

“I always knew.”

Harry laughed, and laughed. Until a single tear rolled down his lids. He was never this happy, he could never be this relieved. His love wasn't unrequited. He loved her, and she loved him.

His free hand brought her face closer to him, landing a short kiss on his love lips. She grinned widely and kissed him back.

“I love you," he spoke quietly and rubbing their nose together, "Very much."

“I love you, too much.” and she kissed his jaw.

“Harry?" she pulled back, "Why did you give up? Why didn't you care about your life at that time? Your family was worried sick.”

Harry's shoulder slumped back, “I was.. I was so depressed because.. I thought you didn't want me around anymore. I felt helpless, I thought my life has no meaning anymore. That's why I don't want to face the truth.”

“And thinking it was the best if Marcel was present?” she shook her head, “You have more right to this life, H.”

“Honestly, I wanted to wait. I didn't care if the wait would cost a million years. But, the wait was worth it because I'm in love.”

Y/N never saw this vulnerable side on him, and it was surprised her. She never thought someone like him, was so fragile yet tough at the same time. She smiled at him while rubbing his cheek.

“How's Marcel?" asked her carefully. She was quite curious about Marcel because he was the master of Harry's body lately. What did he feel, for now?

“I don't know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't feel his presence anymore. He's not weakened, though.”

“He's just.. not there?”

“He's gone.”

. . THE END What did you think?

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles angst #romance #angst

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raleighcarrera · 4 years

Text

catch up

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

it’s been eight months since the breakup. they have a lot to catch up on.

~6k words, M (18+ only)

songs mentioned are gorgeous | no more sad songs | touch (acoustic)

he’d been wondering who would get around to dropping their album first. from the looks of the current trending topics on twitter, cadence had won. it looked like she’d even chosen to jack his style -- dropping her album in full with no announcement, no promotion, no warning... nothing.

color him impressed.

no more sad songs was number one on trending. just below it was the word touch. related topics: cadence dorian, raleigh carrera.

he told himself it was just his own narcissism that made him click. that, and morbid curiosity. it’d been so long since he’d last tortured himself, after all.

a long list of tweets stared innocently back at him. GOD touch is the sexiest song anyone has EVER WRITTEN I’M SCREAMING, said the first one. make it a single queen!!!! you deserve the hottie they will cast for that music video and more!!!!!

he scrolled down. sooooooooo are we going to talk about how touch is obviously about raleigh carrera giving that good dick or nah

his eyebrows shot up. well, now he had to listen to it.

he pulled up spotify; of course she was on the home page. with just a few taps, the song started to play. an impressive piano melody filled the room. she must have beep practicing. as her voice filtered in, he turned up the volume.

cadence sounded... soft and sad, and, the masses on twitter were right: sexy. god did her breathless, yearning voice sound sexy. despite himself, he could actually feel his face flush as he listened to the words. so won't you take it, i feel like for the first time i am not faking... fingers on my buttons and now you're playing. master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself.

it took everything in him not to be consumed by the memories that were threatening, but the last thing he needed was to fall down that rabbit hole. he’d gone so long without thinking about her, after all. it was almost up to a full two days at this point, before something would inevitably remind him of her and he would spiral again.

the rest of her album stared back at him from his laptop screen. he studied the cover art as her voice filled the empty room. it was a photo of cadence, of course, a wide full-body shot against a brick wall. she looked powerful, in the sharp black outfit she was wearing, her skirt just short enough to make her legs look a few hundred miles long.

inhaling sharply, raleigh forcibly redirected his gaze to the track list, scanning the rest of the titles. his lips curved up into a smirk as he read them off, one by one. motorcycle boy. hollywood. tattoos and bad news. subtlety was never her strong point.

then again, he mused, as he considered his own journal and the songs inside it -- kaleidoscope dress. ferris wheel. lady liberty. sex at the moda. -- he really wasn’t one to talk. not that his label would ever let him get away with that last one. it was just a working title, anyway.

he navigated back to twitter and tapped the moment about her album, no more sad songs. the first tweet he saw said omgggg i love the energy of cadence building raleigh up in ‘gorgeous’ and then tearing him down in ‘shout out to my ex’ so much kdhfgksjfhdg HER MIND this album is everything

it looked like he had some listening to do. but first...

he strolled over to the far wall of his bedroom and pulled off his shirt, sidling up to the floor length mirror by the window to take a selfie. his free hand pushed his hair back from his face, and he stuck his tongue out at his reflection as he snapped the picture.

it was just trolling, he told himself as he uploaded the photo to his pictagram, already laughing at his own joke while he typed out the caption. it wasn’t like he was trying to get anyone’s attention -- he just couldn’t resist giving the fans and the internet something to talk about.

raleigh smirked at his phone as the photo finished uploading and stared back at him from his feed. photograph with no t-shirt on. well, there was no taking it back now. if cadence was allowed to write about him, he was allowed to enjoy it, right?

five minutes later, his phone rang. it was avery. he took care to pause cadence’s album before he picked up the phone. “helloooooooo?”

“you know you broke the internet, right?” she asked, aprops of a greeting.

a shit-eating grin appeared on his face. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“you’re such a dick,” she laughed, “you just couldn’t let her have one day, could you? you could congratulate her, you know. she worked really hard on that thing.”

“um, i basically gave her a number one album,” he remarked, his bravado a mask as always. “without me she would’ve had, like, one track on that thing. or she wouldda had to write about you. so you’re welcome, too.”

raleigh pulled his phone away from his face to squint down at his pictagram notifications. stream no more sad songs!! said the last ten comments. omg shout out to my ex is right

“besides, i’m getting trolled. like, a lot. i doubt she cares what i post.”

“i wouldn’t be so sure about that,” avery remarked cryptically. before he had a chance to wonder what that meant, she said, “hey, she’s playing a surprise show tonight at webster hall before the album release party. you should stop by.”

“i think if she wanted me to come to her party she would’ve invited me.” it might’ve been nice to hear from her -- especially given the intimate details about their relationship he was now being forced to listen to, along with millions of other people.

you’re not being fair, he reminded himself, thinking again of sex at the moda. he hardly intended to give her a heads-up about that one. though he doubted she would care.

not that he cared. she could write about whatever she wanted. she could turn her life into art -- if that was what she wanted. she could tell... whoever, about what had happened between them. about what he’d made her feel.

she never told him, but, whatever. that was fine. that was her prerogative.

“earth to raleigh,” avery said on the line, snapping him out of his thoughts. “i said, she didn’t tell anyone about the party. the album was a secret, yeah? you should at least come to the show. i think your support would mean a lot to her.”

“well, i guess you’ll just have to support her enough for the both of us,” he said, meaner than he felt. raleigh shut his eyes, sighing as he rubbed at his forehead. “sorry. i’m not trying to be an asshole.”

“don’t sweat it.” avery always let him off the hook so easily, “i know it just comes naturally to you. seriously, the show starts at 7. think about it, okay? if you do decide to come, text me when you get there and i’ll let you in the back.”

he put the album back on as soon as they hung up. without a distraction, there was nothing to stop him from looking at cadence’s twitter account. she’d last posted just a few minutes ago:

surprise! i’ll be playing no more sad songs in its entirety tonight at webster hall’s marlin room. doors open at 6 for the first 600 in line. see you there? you never know who might drop by...

fuck it. he turned the volume up on her album and headed towards the shower. he’d avoided her for long enough, and tonight was as good a night for him to get over himself as any. maybe after this he could stop looking over his shoulder at every party he went to, terrified he’d have to see her.

that didn’t mean that it didn’t feel like a mistake, to get dressed and make his way to the village. it felt like a bad decision every step of the way, even as he ducked around the back of the venue at 7:05 to see avery’s smiling face, holding the backstage door wide open. it was too late to go home, now.

“took you long enough,” she grinned, squealing as she jumped into his arms. “i almost thought you weren’t going to show.”

“yeah, yeah. did she go on yet?”

avery led him inside, closing the door firmly behind them both. she nodded as they stepped up to the side of the stage. the screams from the crowd were deafening. “she just went out there. i think she’s about to start --”

raleigh heard the strum of a guitar and peeked around to see cadence standing center stage. “this is a really good looking crowd,” she said, grinning when the sound of the cheers rose exponentially. “thanks so much for coming out. are you guys cool if i play some tunes? yeah? okay, then. this first one is about a guy i used to date, it’s called ‘gorgeous.’”

he folded his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall behind them. he was shameless in the way he looked her up and down, staring as she strutted across the stage. he was proud of her -- she’d come a long way since the first time he saw her perform, so long ago. cadence had real stage presence, now -- she’d come into her own. she acted like a woman, sang like a woman, dressed like a woman. she was confident.

“whiskey on ice, sunset and vine. you’ve ruined my life by not being mine.” an elbow in his side made raleigh tear his eyes from her. he looked over at avery, rubbing at his ribs. “ow. what was that for?”

“you know everyone thinks this one is about you, right?” she asked, smirking.

“you make me so happy it turns back to sad, there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have.”

“aren’t they all about me?” raleigh asked, still hiding behind his attitude. avery only rolled her eyes, and eventually the crowd’s screams drowned out anything else they might’ve wanted to say.

she played a few more songs before finally sitting down at the piano off to the side of the stage. now that she was closer, raleigh could see her better, and he stared as she brushed her hand across her forehead, pushing her hair off her face. she drank deeply from a water bottle and then set it on the piano’s ledge. raleigh was close enough to watch her swallow, but she still didn’t see him. it was probably the stage lights -- a single spotlight illuminated her at the piano as she adjusted the mic to pull it closer to her lips.

“we’re gonna slow it down for just one song,” cadence said, “i hope you don’t mind.” the cheers from the crowd proved that they didn’t. “i saw ya’ll talking about this one on twitter earlier.” he could see her grin perfectly from where he was standing; it was blinding. “i’m glad you like it. even if you don’t post thirst traps to it.”

the crowd went wild. even raleigh barked out a laugh; he hardly thought she had it in her. okay. point one, cadence.

“put your flashlights in the air for this one, okay? you and i and nobody else... feeling feelings i never felt...”

she was beautiful, of course -- always, every day, but never more than in this moment, with her eyes closed and her expression haunted, her hands moving along the piano keys. it probably said something dangerous about his ego that he found her the most stunning when she was singing about him.

as the last few notes died, he sighed, digging his fingernails into the fabric of his jacket over his arms where they were folded on his chest. suddenly, it felt like he shouldn’t be there. or maybe he was the only one who should be there. either way, he hardly wanted to think about it.

her moment of silent reflection as the song ended was gone in a flash. he watched her take a breath to steady herself, and then cadence was back in her stage persona, hopping off the piano bench to grab her guitar again. “thank you so much, new york city. you’ve been amazing. i’m so glad i could share this album with you -- it’s one of the most personal things i’ve ever written, and it means so much to me to play it for you all like this.”

“this is the last song i have for you tonight -- it’s the title track, no more sad songs. it’s the last song i wrote for the album. this song is about trying to get over someone you can’t help but think about by any means necessary. it’s about the point in a breakup where you’re tired of wallowing and you’ll do anything you can to make yourself feel better -- i like to think it’s about the acceptance stage of grief. anyway, it felt right to keep it last... to name the album after it. i’m finally at a place in my life where i can put this chapter behind me. and it took a lot to get there, and i’m so proud of that. so, with that being said...”

the crowd cheered as she strummed the first few notes. “thank you guys again so fucking much. sing along if you know the words already, okay?”

it was the second time that day he’d heard the song. it still made him feel the same way he’d felt when he first heard it -- angry and surprised and unsettled... and guilty. why hadn’t she ever told him she felt that way? why hadn’t she called him, and more importantly, why had he never called her, again?

his gaze hardened as she stopped at the front of the stage for the bridge. the same single spotlight illuminated her again.

“uh, why do you have that murdery look?” avery asked from beside him. he said nothing, watching the melody build around cadence as she approached the crowd.

“still got you on my mind, starting to realize... no matter what i do, i will only harm myself tryn’a hurt you, and if i turn the music loud just to drown you out --”

her head tipped back with the powerful crescendo. she looked like an angel under the spotlight, more beautiful than he even knew how to explain. his chest seized painfully.

abruptly, he turned around and headed back towards the backstage door. he knew he only had moments until the last song ended and cadence rushed backstage, and he needed to get out of there before that happened.

“raleigh!” avery called after him, but he didn’t stop, throwing open the back door and stepping out onto the sidewalk... immediately into a crowd of waiting fans and paparazzi.

a cacophony of screams started from the street. “ohmygod, it’s raleigh carrera!”

fuck. venue security glared at him as he shoved sunglasses on -- fuck the fact that it was nine o’clock at night -- and rushed off down the sidewalk. so much for getting in and out before cadence saw him. there’d be pictures of his exit all over social media in moments. paparazzi called after him as he rushed to the intersection, eyes scanning the street desperately for a working cab.

he stuck his hand out just as one with its lights on slid to a stop at the corner, jumping inside and slamming the door closed. camera flashes still shone behind his eyes even as he shoved the palms of his hands into them, drawing in a deep breath. sighing shakily, he met the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “88th and park. please.”

once he was alone in his apartment he felt like he wanted to put his fist through a wall. the urge to destroy something, anything was too strong -- because that was what he was supposed to do, wasn’t it? that’s what raleigh carrera would do.

she deserved so much better than him. the last thing she needed was to see him at her show and get sucked back into his bullshit. he paced around his living room, convincing himself he’d done the right thing. she’d moved on, after all -- she was happy, thriving. she didn’t need him around messing up her life. she’d practically said so herself.

his phone vibrated where he’d dumped it on the coffee table, sliding onto the carpeted floor. raleigh couldn’t think of anyone he wanted to talk to, but he bent down and picked it up anyway.

he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw the caller id. cadence dorian. tongue out emoji. winking emoji. music note.

“hello?”

“oh, so your phone isn’t down a well somewhere. okay, just checking. good to know.”

she hung up.

he glared down at the phone in his hand. what the fuck? raleigh called her back before he even knew what he was doing.

“what?” she answered, though she sounded annoyed. like... really annoyed.

“what is your problem?” he demanded.

“my problem?” she laughed. he could barely hear her over the commotion on the other end of the line -- someone was calling her name repeatedly in a way that sounded urgent -- and then a door slammed, and there was quiet. “my problem, okay. i don’t have a problem. i’m not the one out here subtweeting and sneaking in and out of your show without calling, am i?”

“no, you’re just writing and releasing an entire sixteen-song album about me and all the ways i ruined your life without calling,” he snapped, his patience finally wearing thin enough to crumble. “don’t you think it might’ve been nice for you to give me a heads-up?”

“oh, please,” cadence scoffed, and he could feel that she was getting angry now, too. it felt good, in an awful sort of way. at least it was something. “i should have to clear it with you every time i write a song?”

“not a heads-up about the album,” he grit out, the fingers of his free hand flexing with the urge to throw something, “a heads-up about the way you fucking felt. you never say a goddamn word about any of that to me and i have to find out about it for the first time with -- everyone else? that’s really fucking special, cadence. that means a lot to me.”

there was silence on the other end of the line, giving him a moment to try to calm himself down. cadence was only ever quiet when she’d been surprised, meaning she wasn’t expecting him to say that. but she was certainly silent, then; if he couldn’t still hear her breathing raggedly, he might’ve assumed that she hung up on him again.

finally, she spoke, her voice small and unsure. “raleigh...”

but he wasn’t done fighting with her yet. “what’s the matter? you never thought that it might actually hurt my feelings? i guess that’s on me for giving a shit.”

“raleigh,” cadence said again, more insistently this time, “i didn’t know how to --”

“how to what, cadence? not break up with me? not ignore me for eight months afterwards? not pretend like it didn’t mean anything to you? it’s not that difficult.”

“well, obviously it was too difficult for you to do, too. you didn’t call me, either. so i’m supposed to believe -- what, exactly? that you missed me? that’s convincing, when you’re never out without a model on your arm.”

she sounded hurt. why did she sound hurt? she was the one who’d stomped on his heart, she was the one who’d wanted this.

“get over yourself,” he bit out, his hand curling into a fist at his side. he was never going to get his security deposit back after what he was about to do to his penthouse. “you knew i was in love with you and you didn’t care. which is fine. you don’t have to... just own it. stop acting like i did something to you.”

suddenly, the commotion on the other end of the line was back. “i have to go,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

he hung up without saying goodbye, throwing his phone onto the couch. okay. that was fine. everything was fine.

except that he couldn’t possibly stand to be in his apartment for another moment -- not without doing something stupid.

he grabbed his keys and his phone and left, slamming the door behind him. his fingers drummed restlessly on his thighs as he rode the elevator down to the lobby. there were paparazzi waiting outside the front door of his building -- raleigh could see them through the glass as soon as he stepped out of the elevator. with a grimace, he headed for the back door.

there was already a car waiting for him. “let’s go to kismet,” he directed, rapidly firing off text messages to anyone he knew who might be available to distract him.

within minutes, he was inside the club at a vip table. there was a bottle of vodka sitting in a bucket of ice at the center of the booth, calling out to him. he lifted it straight to his lips, drinking as much as he could in one go without coughing. she’d always used to joke about his self-destructive tendencies. if only she could see him now.

“hey, raleigh.” belle tamblyn stood before him, smiling in the low light of the club. she must’ve just gotten back from paris fashion week. two of her friends had already sat down at the booth, talking among themselves.

he leaned back into the booth with a charming smile. “hey, belle. i knew you missed me.”

she laughed, taking his words as an invitation to sit down in his lap. he didn’t push her off, wrapping an arm around her narrow shoulders. she was taller and thinner than cadence in a way that wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but wasn’t exactly welcome, either. you’re never out without a model on your arm.

“so,” she started, looking down at him from up close, “what’ve you --”

he leaned up and kissed her, sliding a hand into her hair. her lips parted in surprise, sticky with lip gloss. raleigh bit her bottom lip and she sighed breathlessly, and that was -- good. that was almost... close enough.

his free hand slid over her backside, pulling her in closer. she was breathing hard when she pulled away, her face flushed.

raleigh laughed, pushing his fingertips under the hem of her dress. she reached down and swatted playfully at his chest.

“you’re an asshole,” she said primly, but she was rubbing her hand over the muscles in his chest. “do you want to get out of here?”

the last thing he wanted was to bring her back to his apartment, or to be there at all. “i don’t think i can wait that long,” he said charmingly, “bathroom?”

her nose scrunched up as she considered it, staring down at him. then, she said, “fine,” and slid up off his lap. he grinned, grabbing her hand and tugging her off toward the back of the club.

it was a single person bathroom, and blessedly empty when they arrived. no one paid them any attention as he pulled her inside and flipped the lock.

raleigh lifted her onto the sink and leaned in to kiss her again. she moaned as he pushed her legs apart and stepped between them, sliding his hands up her thighs.

this was fine. this was what he wanted.

so why couldn’t he force himself to do what he knew he was supposed to? his hands didn’t seem to want to move from where he’d anchored them on her legs, his lips kissing her methodically but not doing much else.

she wants to have sex with you! his brain screamed at him, she is a supermodel. a supermodel who wants to have sex with you.

impatiently, her hands slid to the waistband of his jeans. he didn’t stop her as she pulled the zipper down and slipped her hand under the waistband of his briefs.

it’s not a big deal. you’ve done this a million times. never after an argument like that with cadence, though... only when she was busy pretending he didn’t exist...

the bass of the music playing in the club vibrated through the closed door. the song sounded painfully familiar -- he strained to make out what it was...

of course it was a dance remix of ‘gorgeous.’ why wouldn’t it be?

panting, he pulled his mouth off of belle’s, tipping their foreheads together. “hey,” he started hoarsely, licking his lips as he glanced down towards where her hand was wrapped around him, “i’m sorry, but i don’t... have anything. i don’t think we should...”

have unprotected sex in a nightclub bathroom. her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she weighed her options. on any other night, that might have actually been flattering, but tonight...

pounding on the bathroom door made their minds up for them. he stepped back, adjusting himself in his jeans. “come on.”

he helped her down off the sink and opened the door, ready to lead her back out into the club. the line of people waiting to use the bathroom stared open-mouthed at them both as they walked off toward the booth. raleigh grinned at them as he walked past -- that was what he was supposed to do, right?

belle’s friends barely arched an eyebrow at her as they sat down again. immediately, he started pouring drinks and passing them out -- anything to be as drunk as possible before the song ended.

by the time he stumbled home, alone, it was late -- later than he’d wanted to be out. he used the front door -- not because he wanted any paparazzi to get photos of him going home alone or anything, but because he felt like it -- and waited until he was in the elevator to sigh frustratedly, decidedly not checking his phone. he knew there was no way she’d texted him.

cadence was sitting on the floor outside of his apartment door when he stepped out into the hallway.

he stared at her like she was a hallucination, lifting one hand to his eyes to rub at them. maybe he had more to drink than he’d thought. she looked up at him, still dressed in what she must’ve worn to her album release party.

he felt like he was going to throw up. god, that would be uncool.

“hi,” she said quietly, from the floor. wordlessly, he stepped closer to her and held out his hand. she took it, letting him pull her up. “can i talk to you?”

that wasn’t going to be easy, considering he had absolutely no idea what to say, but raleigh nodded, unlocking his front door and motioning for her to step inside.

he didn’t turn the lights on, letting the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminate the space. the lights from the city and the glow of the moon made cadence look almost ethereal as she slowly wandered over towards the far wall, hesitating for a moment before kicking her high-heeled shoes off. despite himself, his lips twitched up into a smile as he watched her.

“want a drink?” he asked, because he certainly did.

she nodded, and he moved to the bar cart to pour them both a half-full glass of vodka. he dropped an ice cube into his and poured orange juice over hers.

raleigh forced his feet to join her at the windows, silently holding her glass out to her. she took it with a mumble of thanks, lifting it to her lips. her eyes were trained on the view. what the fuck was she doing here?

the silence stretched between them. finally, he said, “congratulations on the album. it’s really good.”

that seemed to snap her out of it. she snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “you listened to it?”

he nodded. no point in lying about it, now. “i’m a narcissist,” he joked, “it’s what i do.”

she laughed. raleigh stuffed his free hand into his pocket so that he wouldn’t reach out for her. god, he’d missed her laugh.

he drained what was left in his glass in one go. “what’re you doing here?”

cadence was still staring out at the city. “i wanted to talk to you.”

“and yet, here you are. not talking.”

“i didn’t get that far when i planned this in my head,” she admitted, in an annoyingly endearing way. god damnit.

“how far did you get?”

she turned to look at him, then, leaning her shoulder against the window. “i thought maybe i would just kiss you when you got here and that would say everything i wanted to say. but then i chickened out.”

it felt like she’d just elbowed him in the stomach. “that doesn’t sound like you.”

“the kissing? i don’t know, i thought about it kind of a lot...”

he swallowed hard. “the chickening out.”

“oh.” she nodded, looking away. raleigh watched her stare down at the glass in her hands. “i guess i just felt like i already messed up so much. i didn’t want to... do the wrong thing again.”

raleigh couldn’t quite decide if he was too drunk for this conversation or not drunk enough. “how was your party?”

“it was fine. i think the last one i had -- for the odyssey -- was better.”

there was a night he didn’t want to relive. “look,” he sighed finally, turning back towards the windows and the city skyline, “i didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. if you’re only here because you think i’m upset... you don’t have to be. i’ll be fine.”

he could see her shifting out of his peripheral vision. she seemed to be considering what she wanted to say. finally, she spoke up. “that’s not why i’m here.” he turned towards her and watched as her shoulders squared. “i’m here because i missed you. a lot. and i wanted to apologize, for what happened between us... for shutting you out. for not telling you how i felt -- that i was in love with you, too. for letting you go.”

raleigh’s grip tightened on his glass so that he wouldn’t drop it on the floor. he stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time.

cadence drew in a deep breath and continued, “getting over you was the hardest thing i ever had to do. and when i saw the pictures of you leaving the show tonight i realized... i failed miserably at it. i can’t get over you. i couldn’t. i won’t.”

he had to be imagining this, right? he was drunk and asleep in his limo, he had to be. he was dreaming.

but she felt very, very real when she reached out and twined her fingers in the fabric of his shirt.

“please say something,” she begged. she was undeniable.

“cadence...” he sighed, “you know how i feel.”

she nodded, once. “i do, but i want to hear you say it.”

“i want you to be my fucking girlfriend,” he admitted immediately, his voice hoarse. now that he’d given in, his free hand reached out and cupped her cheek. “for real. all the time. in front of everyone. i want you to move in, i never want us to go another day without talking. i don’t want anyone else to touch you. ever again.”

her lips parted. he couldn’t stop his thumb from pressing into her invitingly full bottom lip, watching in fascination as her eyelids fluttered. “raleigh,” she breathed, beautifully enough to do his head in.

he stepped forward swiftly, pressing her back against the windows, and kissed her. she moaned, scrambling to set her glass on the side table next to her. he knew her hands were free when they shoved into his hair.

fuck, if he hadn’t been wanting this for so long. his lips broke off of her to trail kisses across her jaw, down towards her neck. he couldn’t stop his fingers from tugging at her dress insistently. “do you want that?” he demanded. raleigh felt her nod against him. his teeth scraped across her pulse point. “say it.”

“raleigh!” she exclaimed. it was the most amazing sound in the world. his hips pushed forward insistently, grinding between her thighs. the force of it pushed her back into the windows. “i want it, i want you. i want all of it -- everything.”

the urgency to fuck her through the window was balancing precariously against his desire to do things right -- to give her what she deserved. with a huff, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, walking them both off towards his bedroom.

she laughed again as he dumped her on the mattress, hard enough to make her bounce. raleigh grinned back at her as he whipped his shirt off of his head, tossing it to the floor. she was scrambling up the mattress, and he chased her towards the headboard, kneeling on top of her when she finally laid back.

he crowded her in close for another kiss, his hands everywhere at once. she whined into his lips, kissing him so urgently, like they didn’t have all the time in the world, now. “i missed you,” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders desperately.

“i missed you too, beautiful,” he returned, pushing her dress up her thighs, “now lie back and let me make you feel good.”

his head was spinning by the time they’d finished, and not because of the drinks he’d had. cadence was tucked up under his arm, her head pillowed on his chest. she was still catching her breath as she dragged her fingertips along the tattoo spanning the expanse of his ribs.

the sun was starting to come up outside, filtering light into his bedroom. he stared at her face, illuminated by the dawning daylight. “you know, if anyone here is gorgeous, it’s you.”

“oh my god,” she mumbled, pressing her face into his skin, “you’re never going to let this go, are you?”

he smirked up at the ceiling as he pulled her in closer. “would you say it makes you so mad?”

“i’m going home,” she threatened, pinching his side. he laughed, squirming away from her hand. “this is over. you ruined it.”

“well, what if i want to come along?”

“raleigh,” she groaned finally, kicking him under the covers, “stop it.”

he snickered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “what, you’re allowed to write about me, but i’m not allowed to enjoy it?”

“please,” she sighed, settling in against his chest again, “like you don’t write about me.”

“i never said that,” he hummed, already imagining the things her face would do when she finally got to listen to his album, if he ever finished it. “i’m really hoping the label doesn’t make me change the name of sex at the moda.”

“okay, you did not write a song called ‘sex at the moda.’ tell me you didn’t.”

“i’d hate to lie.”

she lifted her head to look at him, her face flushing. “will you play it for me?”

he eyed the guitar in the corner of his bedroom. like he could ever say no to her. still...

“maybe later,” he grinned, rolling over to pin her beneath him, the sheets tangling around their legs. “i can think of a better use of our time. we have a lot to catch up on.”

her arms wound around his neck. “tell me about it.”

#raleigh carrera #cadence dorian #raleigh carrera x mc #raleigh x mc #raleigh x cadence #platinum #choices platinum #myfic #i think of cadence's sound as like very pop-forward so that's where the song choices came from #also bc the little mix songs came on shuffle and made me think of them #i hope you guys like this !! i've had it in my drafts for literally 2 weeks debating whether or not i should post it lmao #i think it's kind of corny with the song choices but the second half of it picked up to me so idk #i want it out of my drafts for organizational purposes lol i hope some of you like it anyway !!

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doubleshotofsomething · 4 years

Text

Needy

[ This is my submission for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan ‘s Little Darlin’ Mystery AU challenge. It is a three part soulmate au inspired by the song ‘Needy’ by Ariana Grande, the prologue and epilogue do not count as part 1/3.]

There is nothing wrong with wanting more. You deserve the love you give to others. You deserve it more than anyone.

Summary: The end is the beginning. The beginning is the end. You can still love someone and not want them in your life.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader

Warnings: angst...aNGST?? fluff ( i think its there, im not sure, but yes). Loki is alive here folks...and... everyone is learning to not be idiots?

Prompts: soulmate au. song prompt

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series masterlist

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Epilogue

Born a King.

There are so many things Thor doesn't remember missing about home. The sound of his footsteps as he walked on the bridge, the glimmer of gold when light reflected on it, or the creatures that Earth could never have.

He still had Asgard, at every smile and every nod as he would walk past his people. At every meal and every feast with his people, every conversation with Valkyrie, and every disagreement with Loki. He still had home in them.

Born a King.

He doesn't remember missing the bruises of battles fought, or the stiff muscles of every war won. The anticipation before a fight, or the unpredictability of space. The adrenaline that came with every spark of lightening, the power that came with the energy coursing through his blood. He doesn't remember missing any of that about home.

He doesn't remember why he keeps getting coffee grains of that brand, or how Loki survived in space. He can't remember what colour the ceiling was in the throne room or why he keeps leaving Stormbreaker in the closet. He doesn't remember that being part of home.

Born a King.

He doesn't remember what it felt like when you walked in through the door, or how the look in your eyes made him feel every time you found him on the couch – that too small for two couch – waiting for you. He doesn't remember the way you would try and squirm your way out of his grip in the morning, trying to escape before he made you late again.

He doesn't remember hating the little jokes you would make, or the stupid way you stumbled over your words when he got you flustered. He doesn't remember getting annoyed at the sight of the missing toothbrush next to his, or the milk that he keeps getting and ends up getting spoiled because no one drinks it, or the coffee that's slowly filling up the cupboard. He doesn't remember hating the thought of you.

When the hell did you become home to him?

Born a fucking King.

Then why is the thought of you, sharing your jokes with someone else, making him feel so powerless?

Why is the possibility of another man in your bed, your sheets, poisoning his judgement?

He was born a king, powerful and strong. So, why... why did leaving you make him feel so weak?

Thor was made for a throne, a Kingdom. Not a woman, not a Midgardian woman.

But he doesn't remember yearning for something he cannot have when he was with you. He doesn't remember missing the land he was raised on when he was with you.

He doesn't remember missing home. Especially not when it was curled up on his lap, face buried in his neck as you fell asleep. Not when you smiled at him like that and kissed him like that and held onto him like... like... like you weren't made for anyone else but him.

It has been over a year, but you still failed to leave his mind.

It has been over a year and he still can't unlove you.

"I don't have anything left to give."

How much had your mate taken from you, for you to think that you had to give him something to stay?

How much had everyone taken before you became complacent enough to still give?

Even when you had nothing, you still tried to give him something to stay.

You must think the worst of him, right now. You offered yourself to him, ready to defy fate and nature, for him, and he still chose to leave you.

Thor turned to look at Bucky. His arms were crossed over his chest as he faced Tony, nodding every so often as the man went on about mission strategy. To his right sat Wanda, his wife.

Thor could understand, if he tried to, why someone would not be with their soulmate. He could understand, if he listened, why he chose her. He could come to see reason, he didn't choose you either when the time came, but...

This was you.

Thor may not have chosen to stay, but he still couldn't move on. Not when every fibre of his being still knew what Saturday morning felt like with you.

Blue locks on blue, a colour that just won't seem to choose you.

"Thor..." Bucky raises an eyebrow at him, in question. "You good, buddy?"

He frowns at that. Because no, I'm not good and how could you still be okay? and how did you manage to forget the sound of her footsteps?

Thor shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing as he studies him. For the first time since they had met, he studies the man with another woman on his arm – in his heart.

"You must be so hard to please." He finally says, leaning back against his chair as he scans Bucky one last time.

Thor didn't mean to find you; he was looking for Jane when your car hit him. He didn't mean to keep coming back, he just needed to make sure you were alright. He didn't want to love someone else, but he willingly fell for your fool's gold the second he saw you laugh.

You made him come back for more, until he decided he just wanted to have it all. You made him want things he didn't know he wanted and taught him things that he would have gone his entire existence without knowing. You taught him what love, selfless and unconditional, looked like – felt like... And he couldn't even think about wanting it from someone else.

How could your soulmate want it from someone else?

Bucky frowns at first, confused, then his face visibly hardens. "We're bonded, not matched—"

"Doesn't matter—" Thor stands, hand tightening around stormbreaker. "—I don't care. We're both wrong... But I learn from my failures."

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You were over it. Really.

A year later and you could walk into your apartment, look at everything and not cry yourself to sleep.

You could separate your own colours, and do your own dishes, and slice up your own peppers. You could roll over and not have to bump into another being in your bed, you could get out of bed and not be late for work.

You couldn't sleep in the dark anymore, but that's not something a bedside lamp can't fix.

The window was jammed again, and the caretaker had reverted to being difficult. Your neighbour woke up one morning and realised Nickelback was his spirit music – whatever that means – so he made sure you heard it too. The couch was still too big for just you and there was that empty space next to the milk, that you can't seem to fill...

But you don't cry whenever it rains and Bucky has stopped trying to reach you, so all in all... Progress.

Good.

Great.

"Jesus Christ—" You nearly jumped into your ceiling, pressing a hand on your chest and shutting your eyes.

Your groceries are scattered on the floor, and your heart is racing. You take a moment to catch your breath, before opening your eyes back up.

He's waiting for you. He has been waiting all day, sitting on the coffee table and staring down at the passage that lead to your door. You're home and he remembers how it felt.

He's waiting for you to calm down, to take a breath. He remembers how you never liked unannounced guests, but he couldn't risk you driving away the second you saw him in the parking lot.

You're looking at him now, finally looking at him after all this time. And he hates how your eyes narrow at him.

He can hear your heartbeat, and he's worried you might pass out if it doesn't slow down. He can feel your anger, from where he's sitting, and he can see it in your eyes – in your stance, in the way you're not wearing that pendant he had made for you.

He left you and that warrants your anger.

He didn't stay when you needed him to, and that justifies your fury.

But his key still fits in the lock, and his fingerprint still deactivates the security alarm. So, surely you don't hate him that much, right?

He wants to say something, tries to say something, but he draws blank. What else does a man say to the woman he let go?

Sorry I didn't stay?

Sorry I didn't fight harder?

Sorry I was too weak to choose you?

"What do you want?"

You speak first though. Your tone harsh to his ears, but it's enough for him to remember why he should have listened to you.

"You."

He's serious. As serious as he was on the day he left, when he told you he couldn't stay – knowing what you were.

So, you don't believe him.

Why should you?

You put your heart on your sleeves, and let him in. Then, as soon as the going got tough, as soon as things got uncomfortable, he leaves.

You don't believe him. Not when you've spent the past year wondering which part of you keeps giving them a reason to leave.

You do not believe him. Because you're done being that idiot. Because you're not that desperate. Because you deserve better.

"I don't believe you." You tell him, glaring at him, at clear sky blues.

He doesn't argue, like you expect him to. He doesn't force it down your throat, like you expect him to. He doesn't demand, or yell, or break anything.

He just nods, slow and understanding.

You don't believe him, and you don't forgive him. And that's okay with him?

He can read the confusion so clearly on your face, it's almost as if he never left. Except he did, and now he has to learn.

"What do you need me to do?" He asks, leaning his elbows against his knees as he looks up at you. "What do you need me to do, to earn your forgiveness?"

What?

You blink at him. Because no. Because not today. Because you were just learning to live without him, and he pulls this stunt?

"I want you." He states, blue eyes unwavering as they stare back at you. "I want you. I want us. I have spent this past year trying to forget, trying to live—to exist— without you... I failed. I failed when I didn't stay, and I failed when I chose to listen to anyone but you.

"I see you everywhere. I feel you everywhere. In my thoughts, in my dreams, in my heart. And every time I think I can get through a task without thinking about you, I hear your voice. I hear your ridiculous laugh and I spend the rest of the day trying to find it, trying to find you—"

"That's not fair—"

"—it's not fair," he agrees, almost instantly, eyes glistening to match yours. "It's not fair. Because fate made you for someone else. But it feels like you were put in this world for me to find. It's not fair because I wasn't made for someone else... but I can't even function without you.

"It's not fair, for me to be here, and ask you to want me back. So I won't. I won't ask you to have me or to believe anything I say. You gave me your trust once and I broke it, and I know that. I failed you, and I'm willing to spend the rest of my life apologising for that— to make up for that... Tell me what you need me to do, is all I ask."

If you were mad before, then you were angry now. Furious, even.

Words. Words. Words.

That's all the whole lot of them have ever been good at. Promising things they can't give, telling you things they shouldn't, preaching and never practising.

Steve had words for you, promises of keeping Bucky away from dangerous missions. Suddenly, you're allowed on the compound because he got too injured to be treated at the Tower.

Wanda had words for you too, telling you all about how she would make sure he never tried to contact you again unless it's an emergency. You've seen him ten times in one week, and none of those were emergencies.

Bucky had the most words for you, though. Preaching about the happiness you deserve and the loneliness you don't, yapping about finding someone but ruining it the second you do. He tells you to move on, to be happy with someone else, but you can barely sleep at night with all his hovering. He smothers and lurks, talking about fixing things.

You tell him to go on less missions, he listens and nods but never agrees. Why would he listen when you’re not his wife?

He talks about forgiveness and promising to be a better mate and friend to you. You listen and nod, but you don’t forgive. Why should you when he’s not your husband?

And now, Thor. The last person you expected to see back in your life, is giving you words. Telling you things. Baseless words and empty promises.

Have you ever seen anything so hollow?

Tears blur your vision, and you don't need to look at your hands to know they're shaking. You're pissed, and hurt and tired of all this bullshit, and you've had just about enough.

"Haven't you people taken enough from me?" Your voice isn't as stable as you had wanted it to be, but it's still yours. "You lot show up, whenever you like, just to take. You don't care about what you leave behind or the shit I have to deal with, all you want to do is take. And take. And take. Even when there's nothing, you still take – what more do you want?"

Your words sit heavy on his chest, and his heart aches for you. He doesn't want to take, but he also didn't stay when you were the only offer on the table.

You struggle to speak past the lump in your throat. "I was ready, to choose you. I told you that I wanted you and you left—" you quickly wipe the tears just as they slide down your cheeks, "—you left, Thor. You can't do this, you can't just walk in here and talk that bullshit like I didn't—like I didn't crash and burn because of you."

"Do you want me to leave?" He hopes you say no. He hopes you ask him to stay and hold you, because he won't be able to walk passed you and leave.

He's hoping you don't break down in front of him, because then he can't leave. And he can't stay for the wrong reasons, he can't stay without your clear-headed say so.

The sound that comes out of you when he asks that, has his stomach cramping for even suggesting that. Because you're staring at him in utter disbelief for saying that, for putting it in the air, for making you even think about it.

"How dare you—"

"Y/N—"

"I never wanted you to leave—" he's getting up from the table and crossing the room to you, before you even finish, "—you did that all on your own."

He doesn't touch you, though. He lost that right a year ago, and he understands. He has a great deal to learn and a lot to amend... so, he'll only stare until you can stomach his touch.

He'll only stare, until he can learn from his mistakes.

He'll only stare, until he's earned the privilege to hold you...

Until he's earned your love, once again.

You deserve better, you know that now, and so does he.

So, he'll be better.

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THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading this. Thank you so much for all your support and feedback. And thank you so very much for just being here.

Thank you to @sourpatchkidsandacokecan for letting me participate. Your challenge is amazing and so unique(it’s closes on the 20th incase anyone wants to join). Thank you

To anyone that related to this fic, I want you to know that I am so very sorry that someone made you feel that way. Please know that you are not needy or too much. You deserve the love that you give. You deserve selfless and unconditional love. You deserve better.

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Tagging: @sourpatchkidsandacokecan , @decadentsoulbiscuitgoth

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