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margowrites · 3 years

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Hi my lovely friend! I have another request if that’s ok, please and thank you❤️❤️How about from teaching ideas- “How do you spell it?” With either Bucky and reader or even Bucky and Steve (either is totally fine) and you can add an AU if you like! Could be like college AU or something or regular! Yay! Thank you! Hugs and love❤️

Can’t Take My Eyes off of You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (College AU!)

Summary: You’ve been infatuated with a boy in your class for quite some time. This time all the seats are taken and he’s sitting next to you, making it harder for you to concentrate on the lesson. Bucky asks for help with spelling, not that he really needs it but it’s an excuse to hear your voice.

Word count: 1,625

Author’s Notes: My sweetie pie @jobean12-blog ❤️ I can’t thank you enough for being so incredibly kind and sending me requests 🥺 they make me truly so happy and I’m so honoured to write something for you! Hugs to you my beautiful friend ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: Fluff, crushes, Bucky is a little sassy towards the Professor, Professor Wilson, mild language (one or two words of fuck), crushes to lovers implied.

If it was under any other circumstances, you would be positive that it was the heatwave outside that caused you to sweat profusely and your clothes to stick to your skin. You would blame it on the sun that was far too hot combined with the speed walk you did across campus just so you wouldn’t miss your class. You would blame it on any other reason apart from the true reason as to why you were currently sitting in your seat with your heart pounding out of your chest, covered in sweat with your hands shaking and unable to grip your pen.

And the real reason wasn’t because of the summer heatwave, the sun or the unbearable and sticky humidity. Your current state is all because of one boy; A top A student in all of his classes, a boy who makes all the girls and even some of the boys swoon just because of his existence. A boy, who loves his leather jackets - even in the scorching heatwave - likes to keep his hair tied back into a bun or low ponytail. A boy who loves to wear his dark jeans and dogtags. An almost 19 year old boy named Bucky Barnes, who you also happen to have a very big crush on. The same boy who was currently sitting right next to you because he was late to class and all the other seats were taken.

This lesson wouldn’t be easy. You were just so infatuated by him. Everything Bucky did fascinated you and you often found yourself staring at him in a dreamlike state when the two of you had the same classes. Watching the way he would roll his toothpick between his teeth, the way he would hold his pen and letting the tip of it glide smoothly across the paper to write down notes. The way he would swing back dangerously in his chair only to be told off by Professor Wilson because, “boy, you could swing back so much your head would crack against my floor and I’m not cleaning it up. Sit properly!”

Bucky even smelled so good, like soo soo good. A sandalwood scent mixed with sweat and something else permeated the dusty air around you that tickled your nostrils that you were sure you would be smelling for days. Not that you would ever complain about that. Being this close to him was a once in a lifetime opportunity and you would make the most of it.

“Y/N?” His voice rang through your ears, snapping you out of your current thoughts. His voice was deep for a college boy, his blue eyes watching you carefully.

You cleared your throat and shifted awkwardly in your chair. Your damp clothes from the sweat squeaked against the hard plastic, causing your cheeks to heat up in embarrassment. If Bucky heard, he didn’t comment on it. That was the other thing you liked about him. Bucky was mostly polite, unless you crossed him, in which his ex-girlfriend caused a scene in the cafeteria one time and Bucky came prepared with his colourful language. They had been having problems for quite some time according to his other friend, Wanda who filled you in on all the gossip. “I- yes?” You stuttered, shaking your head as though it might just shake your nerves away.

“I said, can I borrow a pen? I gave mine to Steve who is currently holding it hostage…” he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. Wait, why was he nervous?

You nodded and pulled a spare black pen from your pencil case. From your observations, you learned he loved to write in black ink only and that’s what you gave him with shaky hands, you pushed it towards him and smiled.

“Thanks, doll! I owe you one!” He smirked, plucking the toothpick from his mouth and licking his plump pink lips.

Oh Jesus Christ.

You knew this would be impossible. Everything Professor Wilson was teaching right now went right over your head. You just knew it was something something about dinosaurs. No information was registering and trying to concentrate just wasn’t going to happen. Not when your crush was right next to you, anyway. The veins in his hands were prominent and the temptation was strong to run your fingertips over the lines. His other hand was moving quickly as he jotted down notes, already halfway down the page. You blinked and stared down at your blank page. Your mind refusing to soak in what’s being taught and your hand refusing to lift your pen and write. Something would be better than nothing, you tell yourself but you’re nervous. Bucky is more interesting than the lesson.

Bucky stops writing for a few seconds to look at you. He frowns, curious if something is going on because from his own observations he knows this is one of your favourite lessons and you’re always keeping up.

Bucky leans in, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear sends a shiver down your spine. “Are you okay?” He smiles, his shirt too tight for his body, you notice.

You nod and smile awkwardly. “Yeah, I’m fine, just finding it difficult to catch up this time.” You sigh, your racing heart still pounding in your chest. The room feels much hotter than it was when you first arrived, even with the air conditioning cranked up.

“Okay, doll. Just checking.” He smirked and started to swing back on his chair as the professor started the second half of his lesson.

Professor Wilson walked around with his hands behind his back as he talked about fossils and mammals that existed almost 169 million years ago. “Mr Barnes! Put your legs on the ground in this instance!” Professor Wilson lectured him and shot him a stern warning look.

“They are on the ground.” Bucky sassed back, rolling his eyes and earning giggles from girls a couple of desks away. Professor Wilson sighed and shook his head.

“If you fall and crack your head I-”

“Yeah, yeah. You won’t clean it up, I know.” Bucky dismissed Professor Wilson’s worries with a wave of his hand and started to take notes once again as soon as the professor carried on with his lesson.

“And the Tuojiangosaurus was found in China 157 million years ago. It was known to be 7.0m in length and weighed a hefty 1500kg.” Professor Wilson brought up slides of what the dinosaur would have looked like.

“What a fuckin’ beast.” Bucky murmured under his breath, “how do you spell whatever he just said?”

A breathy laugh escapes you and you scratch an itch on your nose. “Uh so, TUOJIANGOSAURUS.” You spelled out for him slowly.

“Thanks doll. I thought you weren’t paying attention to the lesson.” He teases, a sly smirk on his face.

“I remembered the spelling from my spelling bee test.” You grow shy under his now intense and impressive stare.

“Well, he should have these in big letters on the board.” He scoffed and you giggled.

“He… does…” you point to writing under the pictures, the names of the dinosaurs in big black bold letters. A shade of pink dusts Bucky’s cheeks and he dips his head with a smile.

“I know, I just like hearing your voice. You sound really sweet. S’like music to m’ears.”

Oh my goodness. This couldn’t be happening, right?

“Oh I uh- really?” You stammered, mesmerised by his homely blue eyes.

“Really doll, I’ve wanted to ask you-”

“Barnes! Since you’re distracted. Tell the class about the Triceratops. We’re waiting.” Professor Wilson stands in front of your desk, his arms folded over his chest and his foot taps impatiently against the tiled floor. All eyes are on Bucky as he sighs and subtly rolls his eyes under his eyelids.

“The- whatever you just said is a horny dinosaur with teeth.”

“Correction. He has a horny beak.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Please elaborate next time Barnes.” Professor Wilson shakes his head and his eyes narrow on your blank page. “Miss y/l/n? Why have you not been taking notes?!”

Your voice was lost, what could you tell him? That you were too busy watching your crush and not paying attention?

“She’s not feeling well and she can copy my notes. S’no big deal.” Bucky spoke and you felt so relieved. Professor Wilson seemed to be satisfied with that answer and went back to finish up his lesson.

“Thank you.” You leaned in and whispered, sighing when things didn’t feel any better for you. Your heart rate was still out of control and you’re pretty sure there might be a damp spot on your seat.

“It’s okay, doll face. You can copy my notes and be my study buddy in the library if you want to.”

If you want to? Of course you want to!

“Yes- I’d like that!” You smiled and pulled your lip between your teeth. “What were you going to say earlier? Before Professor Wilson interrupted?”

Bucky’s cheeks turned from a light shade of pink to a crimson red. He chuckled quietly and nervously.

“You’ll say no!” He chuckled, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips.

“Try me.” You challenge, mimicking his movements with your eyes.

“I’ll tell you when we’re at the library. Deal?” He winks, and shushes you as he writes down his final notes, catching the slight nod of your head.

Your mind went into a frenzy. All it took was for all the seats to be taken and for Bucky to sit next to you this once to escalate things. You wished he was late sooner. What was he going to say to you earlier? You couldn’t wait to find out as you sunk back in your chair with the biggest smile on your face, feeling like the happiest person in the world.

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bbgem329 · 3 years

Text

Just One Night—Chapter Thirteen

Pairings—Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Summary

You spend an unforgettable night with Sebastian Stan. One that would completely change your life. Three years later, Sebastian shows up at your doorstep to find that you both made more than just good memories that night.

Warnings

Dad!Seb, overload of fluff, lil angst, Theo turns three!!! Mentions of pregnancy.

—————

March 14, 2021

“Daddy.”

Sebastian’s eyes fluttered open to meet a pair of big blue eyes, peaking just over the top of the mattress.

“Hi, daddy.” Theo whispered, wearing a big toothy grin as he pressed his face to his father’s—nose to nose and forehead to forehead. “Mornin.”

“Good morning, bubs.” Sebastian lifted himself from his stomach, stealing a glance at the form beside him, relieved to still find (Y/N) still snoozing on. “Happy birthday.” He smiled, slipping as quietly and carefully from beneath the sheets.

“Thank you for not waking momma, Theo.” He mumbled, scooping the boy up in his arms as he made his way out the bedroom, stealing one last look at his sleeping beauty before closing the door gently behind them. “She’s very tired.”

“I three now.” The toddler nodded, eyes wide and expression serious as he held up three fingers, “I big now.”

“You are.” Sebastian cooed, kissing each of his chubby cheeks, followed by his little button nose. “Are you so excited for your party today?” He asked, playfully wiggling his brows, “Grandma, grandpa, and Bunica will all be there.”

“Yay yay.” He beamed, bouncing excitedly in his father’s hold. “Eat cake?”

“Yeah, bubs, there’ll be cake.” He assured with a smile. Pausing at the bathroom door, he placed the tot back on his little feet, “Let’s try to go potty and then I’ll make you a big birthday breakfast.”

After helping Theo up onto the toilet, he scurried to the laundry room where he knew his favorite sweats were washed and folded nearly on the dryer. Slipping them quickly on before returning to monitor the toddler, only to find him already washing his hands on his little step stool at the sink.

He really was a big boy.

Sebastian wasn’t sure he liked it all that much.

He couldn’t help but want him to stay little forever. Even in the little time he’d known him—been in his life, he’d seemed to grow with each and every minute that passed. But it was the natural way of life, he’d slowly grown to accept that, even more so now that they had two more on the way.

And Sebastian hadn’t a single doubt that Theo would make a great big brother. He was very attentive and aware despite his age.

Sometimes a little too much.

Most recently he’d picked up on the fact his momma wasn’t feeling good. And oh, that just wouldn’t do for Theo.

They tried to explain things in latent terms so he’d better understand.

He knew there were two babies in his mommy's belly. How did they get there? He hadn't the slightest clue. That it would soon start to grow and eventually get pretty big. Then the babies would come to live with them and he’d be a big brother. It was a very big role to uphold but he’d do it.

He’d be the best big brother anyone could ever have.

It was minor really, the changes Sebastian had picked up on in the past few weeks. It started with subtle clinginess. Sebastian couldn’t count the number of times he would wake in the middle of the night to Theo sliding, not so sneakily, into their bed before snuggling himself up against (Y/N)‘s front. He didn’t say a word, just placed a little kiss on her forehead and sometimes her abdomen—a habit he no doubt picked up from his father, before curling into her and falling right back to sleep.

Then it was the way he’d begun to track her movements. His bright eyes seemed to follow her wherever she went. If she moved into another room, out of his line of sight, he moved too. He’d simply carry whatever toy he’d previously been playing with along or abandon it all together, in favor of something else. As long as he remained in vicinity of her, he was content.

Next it was “You okay, momma?”, “Momma need help?”, “Momma, happy?”, “Babies okay?”. The man swore he heard him ask all three at least once every hour or two.

(Y/N) was completely oblivious but Sebastian noticed. It was an innocent kind of concern. But it warmed the man’s entire body, right down to the bone. Although he might be a little biased, he swore he had, hands down, the best kid in the world. Theo might be his literal clone but all those good, caring, selfless traits, those were all (Y/N).

Sebastian lifted Theo up and onto the counter, still dressed in his little Dino pjs pants (he’d insisted adamantly that he take his shirt off too, when he’d seen dad had gone without his).

“The birthday boy wants chocolate chip waffles, right?”

“Mhmm.” Theo nodded, a radiant smile spread across his face. “Help too, please.”

“Of course, bud. Thank you!” He shot him a smirk and a little wink as he moved to gather the necessary ingredients and supplies, “Daddy could use all the help he can get.”

And that’s how (Y/N) found them when she finally woke and dragged her tired body out of bed, in search of her two favorite boys. Theo’s back pressed to Sebastian’s chest as they worked together to stir the batter in a big mixing bowl.

“Isn’t this quite the sight?” She spoke up, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she leaned against the door frame. “My two favorite boys making breakfast…and shirtless. I must be dreaming.”

“Momma!” Theo squeaked, making grabby hands at her. Previous objective flying out the window and forgotten at the mere sight of her.

“Happy birthday, Theodore James.” She didn’t waste another second, swooping him up into her arms and showering his face with big, sloppy kisses. “I can’t believe my baby is three now, momma doesn’t want you to grow up.”

“Momma!” Theo giggled and screeched, attempting to wiggle out of her grasp and away from her attack of kisses. “Daddy, help!”

Sebastian jumped in at his son request, snatching him from (Y/N)‘a arms only to turn on him, much to the tots dismay, by bringing his tummy to his mouth to playfully nip at. Theo struggled in his grasp, little hands trying desperately to push his father’s head away.

When the three years old laughter turned to heaving gasps, Sebastian ceased his attack, gently placing the him back on two little feet. He watched with a small smirk as the tot made a mad dash to the pup lounging lazily on the couch.

“Good morning, my love.” (Y/N) greeted, now standing before him, her hands wandering up his bare chest.

She looked effortlessly radiant, basking in the morning light that streamed in through the opened windows. Her (Y/H/C) locks were wild, eyes still glossy and swollen from a good night's rest. The soft smile she wore caused his heart to flip in his chest and knees to weaken beneath him. It showcased perfectly just how content and happy she was to be here with them—with him.

“Good morning, pretty girl.” He leant down to capture her lips in a desperate kiss, one large hand creeping to rest on her abdomen while the other wrapped securely around her back.

The kiss must’ve worked in his favor because by the end of it she was putty in his hands—all grasping hands, hooded eyes, heaving chest, and swollen lips.

He wasn’t playing fair and he knew it.

Her hormones were all whacked out and on overdrive these days. They were only going to get worse from here on out. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it.

“How did you sleep, hmm?” He whispered, nose bumping lovingly against hers as his hand brushed tenderly against her tummy. “You look fucking gorgeous.” He groaned, tossing his back. “As always.”

“Thank you.” A blush spread across the apples of her cheeks, lip trapped between teeth as she glanced up at him through thick lashes. “I slept like a rock.” She chuckled softly, “I guess I have you to thank for that, practically fucked me right to sleep.”

“Just doing my job, sweetheart.” He shot her wicked grin before lowering himself to his knees, face level with her abdomen. Her hands flew instinctively to the back of his head, fingers combing soothingly through his thick locks as he lifted her tank.

Sebastian’s large hands exploded the smooth expansion of skin, whispering soft ‘good mornings’ and sweet nothings to their unborn children.

It astonished him that this is where they lay, both the mere size of strawberries, resting comfortably, nestled within (Y/N)’s womb. He still hasn’t wrapped his head around the idea completely. How strong and selfless she was to be giving up her body to nurture and grow the two new life’s they created together out of pure, unconditional love.

God, he couldn’t remember ever feeling like this. To be so in love and completely enraptured by someone that his chest physically aches at the mere thought of living a life without them. He didn’t even want to think about where he’d be if he hadn’t met her nearly four years ago.

The feelings he had for her made all his past flings and relationships look insignificant and childish. He’d never committed himself to someone in the way he was now. His heart was hers. His mind was hers. His body was hers. It didn’t even matter if a few years down the road, she woke one morning and decided she longer wanted him, at least he’d had her.

Because even a minute with her is better than no time at all.

The realization should’ve scared him, it most definitely would’ve in the past, but he was too far gone now. It was like free falling from a fucking plane and all he could was hold on tight and hope she’d catch him before he slammed head first into rock bottom. Saving him for his ultimate demise. Because losing her—losing them, would be worse than death in his mind.

Sebastian gazed up at her, admiring the way her eyes fluttered closed as his lips skimmed softly across her belly, her fingers tugging gently on the hair at the nape of his neck. She looked like a goddess above him, just waiting to be worshiped.

Well, she was a goddess in his eyes. And he planned on spending the rest of his life—as long as she’d let him—doing just that.

“Wait.” He whispered, large hands palming and touching along her lower abdomen.

“Huh?” She mumbled, still a little dazed and lost under his tender touches.

“I think,” He tugged her shorts lower on her waist, eyes trained on her exposed skin as he ran his hand from just below her breast to the top of her mound.

“Baby!” He glanced up at her, a brilliant smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye, “You got a little bump.”

“What?” She asked, eyes wide, “No. It doesn’t just grow overnight.”

��No, babe, I'm serious.” He cupped her lower abdomen, “It swells just a little right here.”

“I bet I’m just a little bloated…” She was moving out of his hold before he had time to protest, waltzing right out of the kitchen and in the direction of her bedroom. He followed, a smile plastered permanently across his sharp features.

Sebastian knew her body like the back of his hand. He noticed, almost immediately, the widening of her hips, the swelling of her breast in the past two weeks alone. He was right about this.

She perched herself in front of her full length body mirror, lifting her shirt before turning to the side.

He plopped down on the edge of the bed, watching as she studied her changing body. Her brows were furrowed and lips pursed as she shifted to examine it at every which angle, running her own dainty hand along her slightly swollen stomach.

“What the fuck?” She giggled, shooting a confused glance over her shoulder, “Where did this come from?”

“Look at you, pretty girl.” He laughed delightfully, shaking his head softly, “You're starting to show!”

When she was within arms reach, he tugged her to stand between his legs, eager hands wandering her tummy. “God, you’re an angel. So fucking sexy.” The smile he wore made her heart flip in her chest, knees feeling a little like jelly, “I can’t wait to see you get all round and swollen. I'm not gonna be able to keep my hands to myself.”

“You’re incorrigible.” She chuckled, playfully rolling her eyes.

“Only for you, baby.” One hand lifted to cup her cheek, dragging her lips down to meet his, in a fiery kiss. “Only for you.”

—————

(Y/N) scurried around Theo’s room, trying to find the shirt she’d bought last week, specially for this occasion. She could hear Sebastian greeting her parents and Georgeta, attempting to buy her some time.

“Here we go.” She grinned, yanking the t-shirt from the drawer it has been unceremoniously stuffed into. They’d been working on teaching Theo to clean up after himself, so it was most likely him that had moved it from where it was once folded neatly on the dresser. “Come here, bubs. Let’s put your new shirt on to surprise Grandma and Grandpa.”

It took a little more effort to slip the shirt on, the toddler practically wiggling with excitement over his special day and his new shirt.

“What it say, Momma?” He asked, as she combed her fingers through his hair.

“It says ‘Big Bro’.” She smiled, leaning forward to kiss his cute little forehead. “Remember the plan?” Theo nodded furiously. “Don’t say anything. Just let grandma and grandpa read your shirt, okay?”

“Where’s the birthday boy?”

“Right here.” (Y/N) called, taking Theo’s hand in hers and guiding him out of his room.

Upon laying eyes on his grandparents, Theo dropped her hand, running full force into their embrace. (Y/N) settled at Sebastian’s side, watching with a huge smile as they showered him with kisses and cooed over how big he was getting.

The man beside her wrapped an arm around her waist, large hand resting instinctively over her abdomen. She shot him a knowing glance, lip caught nervously between her teeth.

She had no idea how they would react. They loved Sebastian, truly, but they hadn’t officially been together all that long. She worried that they might think that it’s too soon—that they were moving too fast. She didn’t want their opinion on him to change because he’d gone and knocked her up again.

They were both at fault, they’d both been a little reckless in deciding to forgo any protection. She hoped they’d understand that.

Georgeta knew. They had broken the news when she’d brought Theo up to visit at the hospital the following day. The Romanian woman had been absolutely floored over the announcement of two more grandchildren. She’d burst into tears when the words spilled rapidly from Sebastian’s lips, muttering excitedly in Romanian as she embraced them both in bone crushing hugs and repeatedly kissed their cheeks.

“Wait, (Y/F/N),” (Y/M/N) asked, poking at the toddler’s belly. “What’s his shirt say?”

(Y/N) perked up, butterflies fluttering about her navel and heart rate speeding up in her chest. Sebastian must’ve sensed her nervousness because he gave her hip a little squeeze, arm tightening around her waist as he leaned down to kiss her hair.

(Y/F/N) adjusted Theo in his arms, allowing them a better view of his little green t-shirt. “Big… Big Bro?” He read, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes scanned over the words.

“Oh my God.” (Y/M/N) gasped, hand flying to her mouth.

“Surprise?” (Y/N) smiled bashfully, lazily shrugging her shoulders when her mother’s eyes landed on her.

“You’re pregnant?” She asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

(Y/N) nodded, a smile growing as her mother rushed to embrace her and Sebastian, weeping and chatting animatedly over how happy and excited she was. Her father was soon to join them, pulling (Y/N) into a hug and kissing her forehead softly as he expressed how happy he was for her and how proud she made him. He drew Sebastian in for one too, thanking him for taking care of his baby girl and for making her so happy.

They were both beyond relieved by their approval and support. Especially Sebastain, who had been a nervous wreck for the past few days. (Y/F/N) was an intimidating man, he hated the idea of being on that man’s bad side.

“Oh,” (Y/N) spoke up, sharing a small smirk with the man beside her, “We forgot to mention one other thing…”

“We’re having twins.” Sebastain finished proudly, sending her parents back into a flurry of excitement and questions.

Eventually, everyone had settled down. Attention shifting back to the matter at hand… the birthday boy.

Theo requested his birthday dinner be him and his father’s favorite pizza shop a few blocks over from their apartment. Instead of dining in and risking being spotted or approached by fans, Sebastain and (Y/F/N) went to pick it up for takeout.

While they were out, the three women entertained Theo with various party games and crafts (Y/N) had planned out just for this occasion.

Unfortunately, they didn’t know any of the children in the area and he didn’t have his friends from daycare like he had back in Michigan, so they did their absolute best to make up for the lack of party guests and friends the tot could play with. Theo didn’t seem to mind, perfectly content to be with the people that loved him the most on his special day.

The pizza arrived not too long after and they sat at the table, taking turns sharing their favorite stories of the three year old over the years. Something the birthday boy clearly loved, listening intently and curiously as each person told their tale.

Theo’s favorite seemed to be the one his grandfather recalled about the very first time he’d changed his diaper.

It was (Y/F/N) watching Theo, while (Y/N) and her mother ran some errands and went to a postpartum appointment. At just two weeks old, (Y/F/N) had felt a little overwhelmed with the responsibility, having not cared for a baby in quite some time. When the babe had grown fussy and was in need of a change, all previous knowledge of changing a diaper, seemed to fly right out the window. As soon as he’d drawn back the front, the newborn started peeing. In the end, both women had returned home to find his diaper strapped on backwards and (Y/F/N) still drenched in urine as they both slept soundly on the couch—Theo snuggled peacefully in the crook of his arm.

By the end of the story, the older man had the entire room—especially Theo—doubled over laughing. And later on in the evening, the toddler would ask him numerous times to tell it again.

When their bellies were full and the leftover pizza was packed neatly away in Tupperware containers, they moved to the living room so Theo could open his gifts.

This time he’d sought out his bunica’s help with opening his gifts, which brought immense pleasure to the older woman. Taking on the responsibility as if it were one of her greatest honors.

As per usual, the ever spoiled child he was, received an abundance of gifts. Anything and everything from a new bike and matching helmet, to dozens of books, to, what (Y/N) swore, was an entire new wardrobe, and lots and lots of new hot wheels and trucks. The three year old was absolutely elevated and fascinated with each and every item he unwrapped, excitedly running to show his momma and daddy with each and every present.

“Where the hell are we going to keep all this stuff?” She’d whispered to Sebastian when they were only halfway through the gifts.

“Told ya, pretty girl.” He’d responded with a wicked grin and sly wink, “Gotta find a new place.”

When it was time to open his gift from Katie and Carson that had arrived in the mail a few weeks prior, (Y/N) had whipped out her phone for a quick FaceTime. Her sister noticed Theo’s shirt immediately, spending the first two minute of their phone call screeching and jumping around her house.

“Dude! Carson!!!!” Katie had yelled, the sound of footsteps thudding across the ground could be heard through the call before (Y/N)’s brother-in-law had appeared on the screen. “Guess what? We’re going to be an aunt and uncle again!!! To twins!! Fricken twins!”

“No way.” He had mumbled, eyes scrunching to read his nephew's shirt on the screen. “No freaking way! What?? When did this happen? Sebastian, my man, look at you go! Shooting one shot, only to score two!! That’s impressive.”

He’d definitely earned a whack upside the head from his wife for that one and had caused the man in question to nearly fall out of his chair from laughing so hard.

“Alright, alright,” Katie had piped up, expression serious and focused, “Let me see my favorite dude open his presents.”

Of course, they’d sent him his own little custom-made fire suit, face mask and fire boots included. That definitely had been his favorite gift, much to his aunt's delight.

They stayed on the call as they gathered around the kitchen island, Theo sat directly in front of his chocolate ice cream cake—per his request, with a big ‘3’ candle lit dead smack in the middle.

Sebastian had whipped out his phone to take a million pictures and a video of him blowing out his candle. The smile Theo wore was worth everything, especially when he’d blushed bright red when they’d sung him happy birthday.

(Y/N) wanted to make sure that this day was special for him. It was his very last birthday as an only child and soon enough he’d have to learn to share attention with not only one, but two younger siblings. The change was going to be a hard one, it was something that everyone struggled with when adding another member to their family.

She desperately wanted—needed him to know that no matter what, he would always be her baby. For a long time it had always been just the two of them and in the time span of a year, they would gain three new members. And it didn’t make her love him any less.

He was her entire world. Always would be.

(Y/N) tucked him in that night, all tuckered out and coming down from a sugar high and the overall excitement of the day. She’d taken her sweet time reading him three books. He’d fallen asleep halfway through the second one, soothed by her fingers brushing softly through his tousled hair but she’d stayed and finished the third anyways.

Even after he was tucked into his new big boy bed that his dad had set up for him a few days prior, she’d plopped herself on the edge, tracing her fingers along his forehead, down the slope of his nose, and across his smooth cheeks.

She couldn’t believe how fast he was growing up. It felt like just yesterday she was bringing him home from the hospital, all swaddled and tucked snuggly in his baby carrier with his little blue hat.

How perfect he was with his chubby cheeks, button nose, pouty lips, and long eyelashes. He was perfect now too. All grown up, growing to look more and more like his father with each day they passed.

But she couldn’t help but miss the days when all he wanted was to be held tightly to her chest, rocking him in the rocking chair as she hummed soft lullabies to console him.

Back to when he needed her more.

“You okay?”

She glanced over her shoulder to find Sebastian leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah.” She replied softly, “Just can’t get over how big he’s getting, I guess.”

“It’s the way of life.” He sighed, strolling further into the room until he stood behind her, hands resting steadily on her shoulders. He leaned down to kiss her head, his fingers already working to relieve any built up tension in the muscle beneath her skin.

“I know.” She sighed, relaxing underneath his touch, body going lax against his. “I don’t like it.”

“I know.” He chuckled, softly, gathering her hair to one side so that he could press soft, open mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulder. “We just have to cherish each and every moment with him. You did so good with him, sweet girl.” He whispered against her skin, arms tightening around her midsection. “You’ve made his life the best you could in these three years and you still have many, many more to make it even better. He’ll never stop loving you or needing you, you're his mom. A man will always need his mom. Take it from one with personal experience.”

“You’re right.” She laughed quietly, “Thank you.” She turned around in his embrace, burying her face in his chest and inhaling his comforting scent. “I love you”

“And I love you more. Now,” He whispered, his finger lifting her chin before he bowed down to capture her lips with his own. “Let’s let him rest, dragul meu. He had a very busy day.”

“Okay.” She allowed him to take her hand, guiding her from the room. With one last glance at her sleeping boy, she flicked the night light on and reluctantly closed the door tightly behind them.

Sebastian gave her a reassuring smile and a quick peck on the forehead before rejoining their lively parents in the living room to finish the uno game they’d started.

Tag list: @shellbilee @white-wolf-buckaroo @runawayolives @missusbarnes-rogers-laufeyson

#sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you

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mikauzoran · 2 years

Note

Just now realizing that your Lukadrien tag goes back WAY further than I knew about... XD Yay! I love reading your works, so I honestly couldn’t be happier about this. :)

Why, yes. ^w^ I started writing Lukadrien in 2019, so there are a lot of stories to read. I'm so glad you're excited! Thanks for the Ask.

Here are all of my Lukadrien works on AO3.

I would like to take the time to recommend the below. Phantasmagoria and Études are probably my favourites.

Multichapter Stories:

Phantasmagoria - Luka runs into Adrien on the anniversary of his mother’s disappearance in a bar where Luka’s band is playing, and Luka takes it upon himself to make sure Adrien gets home safe. This proves harder than expected when Adrien ends up spending the night on the Liberty. Luka struggles to take care of Adrien without taking advantage. Adrien makes this more difficult with his lack of personal boundaries and propensity to flirt. Secrets are shared, brutally honest conversations are held, and the two grow closer through shared pain and love of music.

Études: Fifty Lukadrien Kisses - Heated, quick, passionate, slow, sorrowful, comforting, joyful, teasing, tentative, angry...fifty times Luka and Adrien kiss in fifty different ways. A series of drabbles taking place throughout the course of Adrien and Luka's relationship. From uncertain beginnings to marital bliss, tough times and times of celebration, from friendship to love, fifty snapshots of fifty Lukadrien kisses.

Your Hands Hold Home - As Adrien attempts to build a life for himself on his own terms, he finds himself falling hard and fast for his new roommate. Meanwhile, Luka tries to be a good, supportive friend while fighting a losing battle against his feelings for Adrien. Misunderstandings, mutual pining, fluff, and soft moments abound.

Among the Wild Things - Prince Adrien has always felt stifled and controlled, never free to be himself. Everything changes when he goes to the enchanted woods to escape his life and his problems and falls in love with a shape-shifting river spirit.

Zebras Can't Change Their Stripes - After four years, Adrien is back in Paris, broke, and ready to try to reconnect with friends and get his life back on track. Meanwhile, Luka is going through a breakup and struggling not to be a total wreck. They’ve grown and changed, but they’re still the same people underneath it all. As they try to pick up where they left off, they support one another, and their friendship slowly grows into something more.

One-Shots:

Private Party - Luka has always admired the seemingly unattainable Adrien in secret, but when Luka runs into Adrien feeling displaced and alone at his class’s graduation party, the walls between them come down, and Luka learns that he’s not the only one who’s been pining.

Better Than Expected - Things Luka did not anticipate happening today: jumping into the Seine, having his underwear choices critiqued by his crush, teaching Adrien to do laundry, and having his wildest dreams come true. In which Adrien shows off his skills at basketball to his own detriment and masters the art of laundry-fu as well as tonsil hockey.

For the Fairest - A bottle of love letters marked “For the Fairest” left by a secret admirer throws the inhabitants of the Liberty for a loop. Luka can’t help hoping that they come from a certain blonde.

Finding the Silver Lining -

Luka growled softly, his head tipping back so he could stare up at the ceiling in his frustration. “Adrien, I don’t know how to be any more explicit with you. …You know how sometimes two people decide they like each other and want to kiss and get married and have babies?”

Adrien’s head tipped to the side. “Yeeees?” He stretched out the vowel, sounding completely uncertain of where Luka was going with this.

“That.” Luka sighed, lowering his gaze to meet Adrien’s. “At the risk of completely ruining our friendship, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Because it breaks my heart that you think no one’s ever going to love you when I’m right here, utterly adoring you.”

When Adrien’s feeling down on his luck, Luka is there to remind him how much he’s loved.

Tights and Tea Lattes -

Adrien hesitated, his stomach twisting up in a panic at the thought of the challenging lift that came next in the dance.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable,” Luka reminded.

Determination set into Adrien’s eyes once more, and he gripped Luka’s hand.

“I can do this….” Adrien’s face softened into a warm smile. “Besides, you won’t let me fall.”

“If I did, I’d go down with you to soften the landing. I don’t let my partner get hurt,” Luka assured. “Especially not you.”

Adrien has always preferred the freedom of dancing solos over the drudgery of working with a partner. When he dances a pas de deux with Luka, however, he learns how exhilarating a partnership can be. Luka might just win him over yet.

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Ask #Ask Mikau

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etherealino · 3 years

Text

the things i do with you — l. minho

synopsis: minho wasn’t feeling the best, prompting him to call you. so you decided to do things with him.

genre: idolverse, fluff and also, soft!minho

warning(s): swearing, minho having a bad day, mentions of beating up (bcs of the movie reader was watching lmao)

wc: 1.2k

note: for @missinghan we’ve been screaming about minho lately, so this is just perfect. ily, sweetheart, to more screaming withy you. 🥳 also im sorry i suck at titles, i hate it. i’m going through it. i miss the boy. and we’re given one week break from school yay. excuse the grammatical errors, i didn’t proofread.

with the loud ringing from your left, your body rose from the sheets as you looked at the side to see your phone wildly making the said sound. you groaned lightly, turning to your back as you picked your phone. you slid your thumb across the screen as you pressed the phone against your ear. “hello? good morning?” you mumble as you slowly close your eyes, the comforting sheets lulling you once again.

“it’s 1 am, baby.” you hear from the other side of the line, a light chuckle following. ah. so it was minho. you smile, lightly chuckling yourself. “did i wake you?” minho questions and you hum, shaking your head ‘no’. when minho doesn’t hear a thing, he calls, “baby?”

“huh? i mean, no.” you say, not wanting to feel him bad. you open your eyes, rubbing your eyes as you sit up on the bed.

“i take that as a yes.” minho says. “i’m sorry baby. you should go back to sleep.”

“no, no!” you said, panicking lightly not wanting him to end the call as well. “i’m awake, already. it’s fine, baby. how are you?” you ask minho and he only responds with a hum.

minho who was on the other side, looks up at the ceiling of the dorms, thinking of what is he supposed to say. he doesn’t usually pour his feelings out to you when he feels bad, he just hugs you until he feels better. there was just something about today that he felt the need to call you and hopefully, maybe tell you about his day.

“min?” you call gently.

“can i come over tomorrow? later, rather.” minho asks and you hum.

“of course, baby. you don’t need to ask, you can come over anytime.” you answer and minho smiles lightly. “what are you doing right now?” you ask as you wait for him to answer.

“watching attack on titan.” minho answers as he stares at the tv screen, but not really hearing the sounds as he lowered the volume earlier so the other members won’t wake up.

you stand up from your bed, snuggling yourself on minho’s hoodie that you are wearing as you walk to your living room, opening the tv as you played a movie (captain america: the winter soldier, to be specific).

“is there a reason why you called, min?” you ask.

“i know, i don’t usually vent my feelings out—”

“you can.” you cut him off. minho holds himself from speaking, knowing you still have something to say. “just because it’s not what you usually do, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to, you know?” you said and minho let his head fall on the head of the back rest of the couch. “...i know, lee know.” you mumble and minho laughs lightly. “tell me, go on.”

minho smiles, shaking his head. he really was lucky with you. “i just.. i couldn’t get anything right today. it was frustrating, i didn’t want to talk to anyone but i just.. i need your comfort, y/n. i couldn’t even get the new song right. the choregraphy, i somehow keep on fucking it up. and...” minho cuts himself off with a light chuckle. “it’s not helping that i’m missing you—it’s only been a week since we last saw each other, but i don’t know. i’m really missing you.”

you chuckle lightly. “i miss you, too, darling.” you smile. “just.. take it slow, min. you’re amazing, you know? you just really need to rest for a bit. you’ve been overworking lately, i noticed. just take it slow. you’ll get it, better than just right. we have those moments, you know? that’s normal. so, don’t beat yourself up because of it, alright?”

“thank you, y/n. you’re amazing.” minho says and you smile.

“anytime, love.” you said. “i love you.”

“i love you more.” minho says and you could hear him lightly pouting.

“what are you doing now?” you ask.

“fixing this corner in the dorm. it’s kinda messy.” minho answers with a light chuckle. you look around your living room and see your unorganized bookshelf. guess, you can fix that as well. you stood up from the couch, turning the speaker mode in the call as you placed it on a table as you rearranged the books. “by the way,” minho says. “how was your day today?”

“alright.” you answered. “it was mom’s birthday, remember? i went to their house and everyone was there. they were looking for you. especially my niece. she wanted to call you but i stopped her, thinking we would catch you at a wrong time.”

minho lightly chuckles and smiles. “looks like you got competition, y/l/n.”

“i do.” you say with a laugh. “i’m just a lucky dame that you picked.”

minho smiles gently, humming lightly. “believe me, baby. i’m the one who’s lucky between the two of us.” minho says and you sigh, smiling at your phone.

“you’re... unusually sweet.” you say. “i mean, you are sweet but there’s still teasing. but right now, non of that, huh.”

“you’ll get the original minho back tomorrow.” minho says with a light laugh and you laugh lightly.

“alright, then. what time will you come tomorrow?” you ask as you stack up the last book. you clapped your hands, removing the dust and taking a sanitizers to clean your hands.

“afternoon. i just want to cuddle with you.” minho admits. usually, he would say he’s going to do you a favor and cuddle with you but here he is right now. straightforward saying that he wants to cuddle you. you could get used to the minho. but your teasing minho was something else. either way, you love minho with all of your heart. “i’m gonna go eat something.”

you grabbed your phone, walking to the kitchen as you open your fridge and pull out a pint of ice cream. you pulled a spoon, uncapping the ice cream and started to eat.

“baby?” minho calls.

“yeah, min?” you ask.

“are you.. doing what i’m doing?” minho asks.

you laugh lightly. “yes.” you answered, having a spoonful of ice cream. “i don’t know. i just thought that it’d be nice to do things with you even if you’re in another place.” you said with a laugh. “you know, like what we usually do just except you’re in the dorms, i’m in my unit.”

“yeah.” minho mumbles. “thank you, baby. that’s sweet.”

“i once saw mom did the same with dad when he had a trip and he felt kind of sad.” you said as you ate your ice cream. “that’s why i did the same. i hope it somehow lifted your spirits up.”

“that’s nice. spirits lifted the moment you fought your sleepiness just for me. i know how much you love to sleep.” minho says as he eats his own leftovers from dinner today.

“you’re an exception to everything.” you said with a smile, eyes locking on the tv screen as you watched bucky beating the best friend he forgot all about and steve letting bucky as he says the line that you love the most. “minho?”

“yeah, baby?”

then, you repeated the line: “i’m with you until the end of the line.”

minho smiles widely, completely forgetting about the shitty day he had. you are his love, his home, his safety haven, his everything at this point. minho could deal with the shitty days that were to come, knowing this won’t be the last one, but just as long as you’re there with him, he’s ready for what the universe is about to bring him, whether it be good or not. because he is with you until the end of the line, too.

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mint-yooxgi · 3 years

Text

{6} - Obsession

Yandere AU - Part of the EXO Obsession Series

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: EXO OT9 X Reader (with a particular focus on X-EXO)

Words: 3,742

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: It's finally here! Yay! After months of waiting, I really hope you all enjoy the update as well as what I have planned for the rest of the series. So, since this is posted on a Friday, Friday's will be Obsession posting days, but every two weeks! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Previous ~ Next

“How did you-“

“Find you? Get in?” He cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “Tracking you was the easy part. All I had to do was follow your scent. Once I picked up on that, I found this quant abode here and waited to see if you would actually show up. Once you did, I knew I had you. You’re cautious, I’ll give you that, but I’m quicker.”

Your eyes narrow as he stands up from the chair. Who knows how long he’s known about this place, and if he can find it, then his original most certainly can, too. You need answers, and you’ll make sure he give them to you.

“How long?”

“About three days,” he hums, nonchalantly.

“Why wait until now to make your move?” You watch him carefully, analyzing every move he makes as he starts to pace the opposite side of your room slowly, each step deliberately dragged out.

The grip you have on the blade in your hand tightens.

“It’s the perfect time, is it not?” Suho quirks a brow in amusement. You’ve never seen him act like this before, an air of arrogance surrounding him as he takes another step. “We’ve successfully infiltrated the compound. The morale of the team is failing, and you’re upset about the ring. What better time to make my appearance than now when I can make the first move? Tell me, has my other self offered you solace yet?”

“You should know,” you retort, shoulders tense.

“I bet he was livid when he found out you didn’t trust him with something as important, as precious to you as that ring. I know I was,” he chuckles, halting his movements for the time being in favour of turning to face you head on. “Let me guess, he told you not to hesitate to call him for anything at all.”

Your breath hitches slightly at the way he says those words, exactly as Junmyeon had said them earlier that same day. A smirk dances on his features: he’s got you.

“If only my original wasn’t such a coward,” he tuts. “We could have been together by now, but no. He’s too concerned about appearances and whatnot.”

“He’s doing better than you,” you counter, and he quirks a brow, clearly amused by your pointed tone.

“Don’t lie to yourself, love,” in an instant, he has you pinned to the wall, hand gripping your one wrist firmly enough to have you dropping your grip on the blade you’re holding. The blade falls to the floor with a small clatter. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel his breath ghost your ear, his voice low as he says, “I could hear your heart racing in excitement all the way across the room.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” your voice is low in response, playing him at his own game as your own breath hits his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Now, get off of me before I make you.”

You’re surprised by his bold actions, but also, from the way he’s been acting, you’ve been expecting him to get in closer any minute. You’d prefer not to be in this position with him for much longer, but perhaps you can use it to your advantage. It’s not like you’re enjoying all of this back and forth.

However, to a pair of prying eyes looking in from the darkness of the foliage outside your window, this position you find yourself in appears in quite the contrast to how you really feel on the inside.

“I’d like to see you try,” you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he drags his nose along the column of your neck, pushing his body even further into yours as he keeps you pinned against the wall. His free hand that had previously been holding onto your waist drifts lower, grabbing the underside of your one thigh and tugging it up so your leg comes to wrap around his waist. He’s only ever dreamed of being in this sort of position with you, and now that he is, he wants to savour the feeling for as long as he can.

“Suho,” your voice is nothing but a warning, and you can feel him tense against you, a sigh falling from his lips.

“Again, with that name,” he leans back slightly, just enough to be able to stare into your eyes properly. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name, love.”

“I’ll call you whatever the hell I want to until you get off of me,” you retort, and though you can see the amusement shining in his eyes, he reluctantly lets you go, taking a few steps back to give you some space. Rubbing at your wrist which had been previously held in his grip, you eye him warily, but you play along. For now. “Thank you, Junmyeon.”

A smug smile tugs at his lips, “there, now, was that so hard?”

You stare at him for a moment, adjusting your stance until you feel the coolness of the metal from the blade against your foot. In the blink of an eye, you manage to drop your body in a roll, grabbing the blade, once more holding it in your hand. Your stare is cold as you remain crouched low to the ground, holding the blade in front of you firmly.

“What is it that you want?” You ask, hearing him let out another sigh at your behaviour.

“I thought I- we made that obvious,” he replies, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You.”

“Then why go to all this trouble to get me? Why not just take me now?”

“It’s like we’ve already said, we want you to come to us rather than us just taking you, but we will resort to those means if necessary.” He says.

“Even if that means hurting me?” This time, it’s your turn to quirk a brow.

“We wouldn’t ever dream of hurting you,” he replies with no hesitation. “The others, on the other hand, are fair game.”

“You of all people should know that hurting them would be like hurting me, no matter how you try and frame it,” you say. “Besides, what’s to stop me from plunging this dagger into my own heart right here, right now?”

“Ah, yes, your seemingly noble act of self-sacrifice,” he hums. “Go ahead, I won’t stop you this time. The others aren’t around to do anything about it either.”

“You seem confident I won’t do it,” flipping the dagger, you point the tip at your chest and you notice him falter slightly before righting himself once more. Seems he’s had a change of heart.

“You may talk big, but you and I both know that you don’t want to die,” Suho’s voice is level, confident in what he’s saying. “No matter how brave of a face you put on, I know the truth. The thought of death terrifies you.”

You grit your teeth, grip becoming so tight on the blade your hand starts to cramp. How he knows this fact is beyond you, and you’re shocked he’d even bring it up at all. Sure you may put on a tough facade for your team most of the time, but he’s right. Death has always terrified you, but your sense of duty has always overpowered that fear.

“Your silence speaks volumes, love,” he smirks, moving over to the patio doors attached to your room. His eyes catch a slight movement as he slides the door open, a gentle breeze drifting through the room as he turns his head to look at you from over his shoulder. “You have three days, and then we’re coming for you. You best be ready for when that time comes.”

Without another word, he’s disappeared, nothing but your open patio door serving as a reminder to what has just transpired in your room moments before.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you release the breath you had unwillingly been holding. The dagger in your hand falls to the floor once more as you relax your tense muscles. Everything has just gotten that much more complicated.

Clearing your mind in the next moment, you stand quickly, locking your patio doors and moving to set your alarm. The last thing you need is another unexpected visit from one of the other clones today.

Picking the blade back up, you keep it at your side as you walk through your house. Doing the only thing you can think of at this time to do, you call Kyungsoo.

Explaining the situation to him takes no more than two minutes, and you can hear him exhale loudly on the other end of the phone.

“You know what this means, right?” He asks, and you can hear some shuffling coming from his end.

“I am aware, yes,” you reply, running a hand over your face as you stare at your tired reflection in the hallway mirror. “I could use all the help I can get at this point.”

“We’ll be there in less than an hour,” is the last thing you hear before the line goes dead. Trust Kyungsoo to always be on top of things when stuff like this happens. Now, all that’s left to do is wait until they arrive.

Meanwhile, as soon as he ends the call with you, Kyungsoo lets out another sigh. You just can’t seem to catch a break.

“What’s wrong?” Yixing peeks his head over the monitors at Kyungsoo.

“Get Minseok, we’re leaving,” is the only reply he gets. “I’ll explain on the way.”

The two share a look, and it’s enough for Yixing to understand that this is about you. Something’s happened, and he knows it’s serious if Kyungsoo refuses to even divulge the topic while at the compound. Too many prying eyes, and ears for that matter.

Not even ten minutes later, the three of them are all packed into Kyungsoo’s car, heading straight to the highway in order to get to your place. Granted, they did have to dodge some questions from your strike team about where they’re going. Luckily, they managed to escape without too many suspicions raised. At least, that’s what they think.

“Is it just me, or are the techs all suspiciously acting real close to (Y/n) all of a sudden?” Baekhyun voices as the six of them go over their stations once more to make sure they didn’t miss filing anything that got stolen by the clones.

“Jun, Dae and I did sort of walk in on them talking about something in her office yesterday,” Sehun recalls, tapping the pen he’s holding on the bottom of his chin as he recalls the hushed whispers he had heard through the door. “It sounded important.”

“You guys don’t think something else has happened regarding our clones, has it?” Jongin furrows his brow in concern, sharing a look with each of his teammates.

“I don’t think they’re being completely honest with us,” Junmyeon adds, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Shouldn’t we give them the benefit of the doubt, though?” Chanyeol reasons, resting the clipboard he’s holding on his hip. “They are our teammates, I’m sure they’d tell us if it were important.”

“Baekhyun’s right,” Jongdae says, and all eyes turn to look at him. “Clearly there’s an air of distrust between us, especially now that the clones have infiltrated the compound and taken her ring.”

“What ring?” Jongin’s brow furrows even further in confusion. So far, he’s the only one who hasn’t received an explanation for it. “You mean the one she came in seething about today while we were in interrogation?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae confirms. “If Kyungsoo was the only other one beside me who knew about it, and Yixing and Minseok are practically uninvolved in this, I’d say they’re probably the people she trusts most right now.”

“This is ridiculous,” Baekhyun huffs.

“Like it or not, Jongdae’s right,” Junmyeon sighs.

“Wait, hold up,” Jongin interjects. “Will one of you please explain this ring to me?”

“It was her grandmother’s ring, given to her to give to the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with,” Sehun explains, a slight daze falling over his features as he recounts everything you told them. Once he’s done explaining, Jongin falls silent.

“Oh,” he breathes, the same thoughts coursing through his head as with the others when they first learnt of this ring. “Well, clearly we need to find the clones and get this ring back as soon as we can.”

“That’s the plan,” Chanyeol nods, only causing Baekhyun to frown with the growing tension now engulfing the room. Each of them want to be the one to get that ring back and destroy their clones first to prove to you that they are the one that is worthy to be yours.

“We need to work together, lest we want to fall apart,” Jongdae says, somewhat hesitantly.

A brief silence settles over the six of them, a few of them nodding their agreement. However, each pair of eyes holds wariness in them, not knowing if they can trust each other to the extent that they have in the past.

“Who’s going to give her the ring back when we find it?” Baekhyun asks, and it’s like someone has stolen all the air from the room as soon as the words leave his lips.

“I am,” both Jongdae and Junmyeon answer at the same time, immediately turning to glare at the other in response.

“I’m her second in command, it would make sense for me to return it to her in the end,” Junmyeon explains.

“And I was the one who got her into this mess with the ring in the first place, so it would make most sense if I’m the one to return it to her,” Jongdae counters.

“You just want to make yourself look like the hero in her eyes,” Junmyeon narrows his eyes at Jongdae, a silent warning to not challenge him right now.

“Like you’re any different,” Jongdae scoffs, standing up from his seated position on the bench. “You’re just hoping she’ll tell you to keep the ring once you present it back to her.”

“Now wait just a fucking minute-” this time, its Baekhyun who stands, a fire lit behind his eyes as the six of them begin to argue over who will get to present you your ring once they get it back.

With each passing minute, their voices grow louder. So much so, that their shouting can be heard all the way from outside the room, though half of it is incoherent. By the time another person enters the room, Chanyeol has Sehun pinned against the wall, sparks are dancing along Jongdae’s fingertips as Junmyeon takes a fighting stance, and Baekhyun is reaching for his switchblade to point at Jongin’s throat.

“Enough!” Dahyun’s voice booms across the room, successfully startling the six men out of their blind rage. “Now, I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but you’re all acting like wild animals. No, even wild animals have more decency than you guys right now. There is a crisis going on here, the last thing we need is to be infighting with one another. Pull yourselves together! Go home and get some rest; take a breather and start fresh tomorrow. There are bigger things at play here than what meets the eye.”

At her words, they all straighten themselves out. Sehun, Chanyeol and Jongin hang their heads slightly in shame, while Baekhyun, Junmyeon, and Jongdae all scowl.

“Good,” she nods once she sees that they’ve all calmed down somewhat. “Oh, and by the way, you two,” she motions to Jongdae and Jongin, “are cleared. Now, I repeat, go home and get some rest. We all need it.”

Without another word, she exits the room, leaving the six of them in a tense silence.

As each of them pack up for the evening, all of their minds are on one thing. Proving themselves to you by making sure that they are the only one to get your ring back for you.

Meanwhile, back at your place, you’ve just finished letting Kyungsoo, Minseok, and Yixing in. Quickly locking your door once more, you turn to face the men now standing in your hallway, two with looks of awe on their faces as they take in your house.

“Damn, (Y/n), didn’t know you had a home away from home,” Minseok muses, quirking a brow at you playfully.

“Maybe we should ‘stay with Kyungsoo’ more often, too,” Yixing jokes, causing you to crack a tense smile.

“Surprise,” you chuckle humourlessly, motioning with your head for them to head to the living room so you can all talk.

“Have you-“

“Already triple checked for bugs and any possible changes to my security system,” you cut Kyungsoo off. “I found none, but you’re free to check while I fill these two in.”

A nod is all you receive from Kyungsoo as you make it to your living room and sit on the couch, motioning for both Yixing and Minseok to join you. It takes about ten minutes to fill the two of them in since they kept asking questions. That, and you kept having to explain how you have this house, and why Kyungsoo was the only one to know about it. By the time you’re done, Kyungsoo rejoins the three of you.

“The good news is I found nothing,” he confirms what you’ve already deduced, you nodding to him in thanks.

“That’s good,” Yixing says, turning back to look at you.

“Hang on, I’m still not done processing what you’ve just told me about Suho,” Minseok shakes his head in disbelief. “That bastard did what?”

“Pinned me against the wall and grabbed my thigh to wrap my leg around his waist,” you reply calmly.

Kyungsoo’s eyes flash, “you failed to mention the leg part in your explanation earlier.”

“Did I?” You huff. “My bad.”

“Well, it’s very clear that you’re no longer safe here,” Yixing says. “At least by yourself.”

“That much is for certain,” you huff, leaning back on the couch.

“You’re still safer here than with one of us at our place,” Minseok notes, hand coming up to hold his chin as he thinks.

“That’s true, but who’s to say Junmyeon won’t do the exact same thing his clone did?” Yixing observes.

“I think Junmyeon has a little more dignity than his clone,” Kyungsoo adds. “Or at least, a little more respect for his captain.”

“I’d say so,” you sigh, bringing your one hand up to rub at your eyes. “He said I have three days. That means we only have two and a half to find them before they come for me. If that at all.”

“Already working on it,” Kyungsoo replies, pulling out his laptop from his bag. “Though I haven’t found much since this morning.”

“What program are you using?” Minseok leans over, watching as Kyungsoo types away on his laptop.

The two of them start conversing back and forth, working out the best means to find the clones before something else happens. Yixing takes this time to move beside you on the couch, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft, expression showing nothing but concern for you.

“I will be,” you exhale a long breath.

“If those bastards so much as lay another finger on you…” he lets his threat linger in the air, eyes cold and unforgiving as they narrow at the wall.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Yixing,” you grin halfheartedly. “I’m sure it’ll all be okay.”

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

“Either way, you shouldn’t be left by yourself anymore,” Minseok pipes up from beside Kyungsoo. You weren’t even aware he had been listening in.

“I agree,” Kyungsoo nods, not taking his eyes off of his screen for a moment.

“We should come up with a schedule then,” Yixing nods.

“Well, the others still think I’m staying at Kyungsoo’s place, so we have to time it so in case they go over to his place, he’s there when he’s supposed to be,” you comment, and you see them nod in understanding.

“So, night shifts?” Minseok turns to look at Kyungsoo, who glances up briefly and then proceeds to nod once before going back to focussing on his laptop. “Cool, then Yixing and I can rotate mornings and afternoons.”

“Sounds good to me,” Yixing says with a faint smile.

“You guys really don’t need to be doing this for me, you know,” you tell them, and you’re taken aback at the intensity of their stares as they all whip their heads to look at you.

“Of course we do,” Minseok replies, standing up from his position to come sit on your opposite side. “Your safety is our number one priority.”

“Okay, but I need at least one afternoon off per week,” you joke and they smirk along with you.

“Whatever you need, we’ll provide for you,” Yixing assures you, squeezing your shoulder lightly.

“Thanks guys,” you smile weakly, the stress of the whole situation weighing down on your shoulders even more so than before. Now, you can’t even be in your own home without worrying a clone will appear unannounced. “I really appreciate it.”

“Like we said,” Minseok pats your back reassuringly, “it’s no problem.”

The rest of the evening is spent finalizing the rotation schedule for the next three days. You’ve all agreed to take the next few days off just to be safe. Unless there’s an emergency, or something that one of them needs to grab, like equipment, none of you will be going into the compound for work.They’ll make sure nothing, no one can break into your house again. At least, not while they’re around.

The longer they spend with you, the better you feel. It’s nice to have the three of them there with you, not only for protection, but also for the company as well. If you were by yourself, you’d probably be extra paranoid right now. With good reason, too, for you have yet to notice that extra pair of eyes watching you, lurking just outside your house. Someone that your security system just can’t seem to pick up on.

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mintymiknow · 3 years

Text

Trust Fall - ch. 14 | Lee Minho

summary | character profiles | masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Reader

Summary: After an eventful evening, you and Minho return to HQ to continue making progress on the case with the other agents. While things are starting to fall into place and answers are found, feelings seem much clearer now as well.

Genre: Secret agent/spy au, romance, angst, action

Word count: Approx. 6.9k

Warnings for this chapter: Death is talked about (but no actual death scenes), suggestive and highly implied content, the word “sex” is used (but nothing explicit or nsfw; I still kept things PG hehe)

A/N: After a loooong wait, here it is! I just checked my outline and realized that I’ve managed to shorten things by putting several chapters together so...I guess the series is ending soon! For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter with some...spicier content for our main couple (spicy but not explicit haha, don’t worry!). Have fun, and don’t hesitate to drop an ask for any questions or comments!

Last night’s sleep was good. Perfect. Much needed.

In the new hours of another day, your head still lay on the pillow, body wrapped up snuggly in the soft sheets as sunlight gently peeked through the closed curtains. It was quite chilly, but there was also a distinct warmth swirling about, making your slumber even better. Your breathing was even, and your mind at rest for once.

And, there were arms around you.

Minho awoke first, his body much more used to getting up at early hours. His eyes slowly peeled open, immediately landing on your sleep-filled expression. Upon hearing the soft snores puffing out of you, the male chuckles to himself - as quietly as possible - and scoots ever so closer, wrapping his arms around you tighter. You mumble something incoherent, making him smile in amusement.

He could stare all day.

The soft and tranquil expression on your face was something he wanted to relish in. Seeing you in constant stress and anguish throughout your time working with them has made him quite upset, so seeing you in a better state surely melted his heart.

It was unexplainable…the way he wanted to protect and keep you safe. To care for you. To make sure you were happy and satisfied. To love you, perhaps.

He did love Jiyeon, but the feeling bubbling in him towards you was something else, and whatever he had for Jiyeon could not compare to what he now has for you. The thought makes his lips quirk up into a small smirk, and he finds himself whispering to himself, “Look at what you’re doing to me, y/n.”

Minho places a chaste kiss on your forehead before carefully untangling himself from you. The male tries his best to not wake you as he slips out of bed and heads for the bathroom to freshen up. He decides to take his time to give you as much sleep as you needed, even silently going out to the inn lobby to grab a snack. There, Agent Ju greets him with a smile, “Good morning, Agent Lee. I hope you and Miss Song are feeling better.”

“Morning.” Minho smiles back, nodding his head once, “Yeah, much better. Thank you.”

Agent Ju nods her head before leaning against the receptionist’s table, “Well, if you and Miss Song are heading back to Seoul, I can arrange for HQ to send a car over.”

“It’s fine. We came by bus and we’ll go back the same way.” Minho says politely, “Thank you for the help, though.”

“Anytime.” Agent Ju laughs.

Minho then nods his head in permission before making his leave to return to the room you shared in the inn. When he unlocks the door, he’s not surprised to see you still fast asleep, now hugging the pillow he was laying on previously. With an amused shake of his head, the agent walks over to you and sits on the edge of the bed. As much as he treasured seeing you at peace like this, you both had to return to HQ.

The male gently shakes your sleeping figure, “Y/n, time to get up.”

You mumble yet another string of incoherent words, releasing a deep breath as you toss and turn in an attempt to stop the agent from shaking you awake. With a laugh, Minho gently crawls closer to lean over you, peppering your unguarded face with feathery kisses. His quick attacks are tickling, causing you to giggle; ultimately, you open your eyes after a squeal escapes your lips as a result of Minho nibbling at your earlobe.

The male laughs at your glare, “Hey, sleepyhead.”

Your glare melts into a small albeit sleepy smile as you respond, “I’m surprised you aren’t sleepy.”

“I’m used to this.” Minho chuckles, taking your hands in his so he could pull you to sit up. The right sleeve of the robe you had worn last night had slipped down to the middle of your upper arm, so Minho gently pulls it back to its place over your shoulder and offers a small smile, “Do you want to freshen up before getting dressed?”

“Yeah, ok.” you say, leaning forward to rest your head on Minho’s shoulder.

The male chuckles softly, allowing you to stay in that position for another minute or so. Afterwards, you take a good stretch and get up from the bed, making a beeline to the bathroom while Minho gathers both your things ready for leaving. After you’re both ready to leave, you gather your things and head to the inn’s main desk to say your thanks to Agent Ju. The woman bows her head and waves with a smile, “Take care, you two.”

You and Minho give her a smile before walking out of the inn. Thankfully, the wait at the bus stop isn’t that long, and a few minutes later, you’re both seated towards the back and are on the way back to Seoul. Minho allows you to sit next to the window, allowing you to watch the scenery as the bus drives by. The sun basks you in enough sunlight, but still mild enough to not make it hot or too bright. Minho sneaks a glance, resisting the urge to claim your lips in his as you preoccupy yourself with the said scenery. Instead, he gently slips his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers like lace.

This prompts you to look away from the window, eyes now focused on him. You crack a smile and chuckle, “Sorry, I dazed off.”

“It’s alright.” Minho smiles, squeezing your hand, “You can sleep until we get to Seoul if you want.”

You shake your head, leaning it on Minho’s shoulder afterwards, “I’m fine, I got enough sleep. I do want…” you trail off, using your free hand to draw patterns on the male’s hand that is clasped around yours, “...to hear your story when meeting the other boys.”

“Hmm?”

“I told you about how I met Hyejoo...and Hyunbin.” you slowly explain, “And you told me about how you met Chan and Jiyeon. How about the other boys?”

Minho chuckles, nodding his head in amusement, “Alright then.”

You let out a quiet “yay”, prompting another chuckle from the male. He then speaks, “Chan was my superior for a while, right? Well, after he convinced Jung to ‘elevate’ me into a more senior agent, Changbin came in, and Chan and I sort of became his superior and trainer until we became a team - not counting Jiyeon, since you know her story. Hyunjin came in a month after Changbin, and the two of us got along pretty well, so our team compositions would rotate between us four.”

“Surprisingly,” Minho chuckles, “Jisung and Seungmin were already in SKZ before I entered. They’re younger, yeah, but they finished college early for their age and started working in SKZ after some recommendations from science and medical professionals who got to see their skills. Jisung wasn’t ‘head’ of the lab department at that time, but he was a well-respected figure. So was Seungmin. I remember becoming friends with them because Jisung spilled coffee on me in the cafeteria, and he wouldn’t stop fussing even after I told him it was fine. Seungmin had the audacity to laugh at the situation, but I found it funny as well.”

A small yet warm smile forms on your lips as you stifle a laugh, “That sounds like a very normal occurrence in your group of friends. And Jeongin?”

Minho shrugs gently, a smile on his face as well, “He was the last to join, but he was usually assigned to team with me, so we bonded pretty well. You could say I taught him almost everything he knows.”

“Hmm.” you hum in a teasing manner, “Jeongin does remind me of a mini-you...or something like that.”

Minho chuckles at this, his lips curling with an amused quirk, “Until he actually becomes better than all of us. He has a lot of potential.”

“Imagine that.” you laugh.

The next few minutes or hour spent in your journey back to HQ is filled with idle chatter and light-hearted conversations about more personal things, such as non-work related hobbies and interests, life as teenagers or kids before, and a random game of 20 questions - all while holding each other’s hands and leaning against each other. Some people on the bus murmured that you and Minho were a lovely couple, and one old lady flashed a warm smile and said something along the lines of “I wish you both a long and lasting relationship”.

Of course, that caused you to burn like a tomato. Minho was calmer, nodding in acknowledgement and thanking the old lady; either he was playing yet another disguise of being a couple, or he actually did think you were a couple.

Were you?

What were you two to each other anyway?

You’ve showered together, slept in one bed, kissed, hugged - everything a couple would do. Something friends would do? No, you didn’t think friends kissed the way you did back at the inn. So...what were you?

There was an unnamed label or string between you and Minho, but perhaps deciphering that could wait until another time - when both your missions were over with.

For now, you were at peace knowing that the person who tore down your defensive and heavily-guarded wall was none other than Minho.

Once you and Minho arrive back at HQ, you both head straight to the labs where Jisung and Seungmin are already working. “Hey, welcome back.” Jisung flashes a grin, “How was the trip?”

“Some...bumps along the way, but…” Minho puts the case on one of the lab tables and explains, “Here are the samples you need to continue testing.”

Seungmin nods and gathers the various bottles and vials, “Well then, we shouldn’t waste any time on this.”

Minho nods his head, “I’m going to meet with the other agents to update them. I’ll call if Jung wants to schedule a briefing session.”

“Alright.” Jisung flashes a smile.

You nod in response, a small smile on your lips, “I’ll help Jisung and Seungmin.”

The eldest male nods before offering a smile at all three of you, turning on his heel to then make his exit. Once he’s out of the room, Jisung swirls around to flash a cheeky grin at you, “Something must have happened in that trip.”

“What are you talking about?” you question, trying to remain calm while helping Seungmin begin the tests and experiments.

Jisung chuckles, “I don’t know. It’s like...there’s been a shift between you and Minho. In a good way.”

“They probably confessed and made love or something.” Seungmin joins in the teasing, a rather funny contrast to how serious he was with the test tube in his hand.

“That did not happen!” you protest, quickly grabbing your own test tube and a vial, “We just...talked.”

“Yeah, right.” Jisung laughs as he conducts his own experiments now, “At least say you kissed.”

“That…” you trail off with a small pout, “...is confidential.”

“So you did.”

“Quiet, Seungmin.”

The next few hours are spent with the three of you conducting more tests and experiments to confirm or support your theories and other data. Thankfully, whatever results were being yielded were indeed looking towards the bright side. Although...Jisung did nearly spill his coffee into one of Seungmin’s lab flasks. Fortunately, the doctor was quick to react; who knew what would have happened if caffeine was mixed with these dangerous substances.

By now, the three of you were seated in one of the lab offices, going through sheets of paper with results and scribbled-down notes and citations while discussing all possible outcomes and solutions. Then, as somewhat expected, Minho called in, explaining that Jung wanted to meet with the team for a quick briefing of all current findings. With that, the three of you gathered your things and headed for the main building, footsteps quick as you made your way to the meeting rooms.

The other agents and Jung are already inside when you, Jisung and Seungmin enter the room. Chan, as usual, greets with a warm smile and nod of his head. Changbin mirrors the action, and Hyunjin gives off a playful salute. Felix and Jeongin aren’t there at the moment, probably still on break or something of the like. Jisung takes a seat next to Hyunjin, and Seungmin takes a seat next to Changbin while you settle down between Chan and Minho.

Jung clears his throat to start the session, “Alright, so, what do we have so far?”

Chan speaks first, fingers lightly drumming against the table, “At the culminating point, all investigations and intel have led to one definite finding. Cle is ready with their prototype serums, and by ready, we mean that intel tells us they are ready to start transacting and trading with other parties.”

“Hmm, I see.” Jung nods, “And how is our side responding to this?”

“Various teams have managed to dismantle various Cle facilities.” Minho begins, “This would either hinder their process by getting rid of their stocks for transactions, or getting these stocks for our own use; for the lab department to come up with a solution.”

“And how is the lab department?” the head of SKZ turns to you, Jisung and Seungmin.

You slowly piece your thoughts together, stringing the right words carefully. “I’ve...we’ve come up with a temporary solution. It’s...far from perfect, but all the tests we’ve performed with it have worked so far.” you answer, “I wouldn’t call it complete and functional though.”

Jung nods his head once more, “Do you think it’s safe to say that we can utilize this now? So that we can interfere with whatever trades and transactions Cle has in store?”

“I…” you look around the room before gulping, “No. I think we should still observe and test it out a few more times.”

“How long ago did you come up with the solution? Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Jung questions, “We could have made more progress earlier.”

You look away, shaking your head, “It’s science, sir. I didn’t say anything because I wanted to be 100% certain the solution was effective. Even now, I’m not 100% certain. Jisung, Seungmin and I are still working to see how credible it is.”

Minho nods his head as if agreeing with you, “It might have been risky if they weren’t completely sure that their solution would be effective. We can’t afford any mistakes on this.”

“I agree.” Jung clasps his hands together, “Good to know that everyone’s efforts paid off. Do you think the lab team can develop several stocks of that solution any time soon, Dr. Song?”

“We’ll do our best to finalize things.” you answer quickly, “Then we’ll see what capacity we can do to produce a large volume.”

“Very well.” Jung nods definitively, “I wish everyone the best of luck. Meeting dismissed. Good luck on your respective tasks.”

Jung is the first to exit the room as soon as his phone rings. Chan leans back on his seat and props his feet up on the table, “So...Minho says you actually have completed the solution, y/n.”

“I...sort of have.” you confirm, “I just want to be more sure of it. There’s no room for a single percentage of failure in things like this.”

Changbin hums, crossing his arms, “Good thing the teams were able to bring back a lot of Cle serums for that then.”

“The power of science huh.” Hyunjin spins his chair around, “Amazing what you can do in a lab.”

Chan chuckles at the long-haired male’s comment before his expression softens and he sits down properly. With a tilt of his head, Chan says, “Sorry to change the topic but...Minho did tell us about what happened in that small clinic with your friend and all...I’m sorry. How are you?”

You offer a small smile and shrug, “It still hasn’t fully sunk in, but...I’ll be ok.”

Hyunjin has an apologetic expression on his face as he speaks with a soft voice, “Well, whatever it is, we’re your friends now, alright? You got us.”

“I know, thank you.” you flash another genuine smile.

“What else happened back there?” Changbin inquires, his playful smile displaying his attempt to lighten the situation.

“Well...Minho told me about Jiyeon and how he met all of you.”

Chan looks at his friend with raised eyebrows and chuckles, “Did he now? That’s interesting. Minho doesn’t like talking about her.”

Minho playfully shoves Chan’s teasing face away from him and rolls his eyes, “She’s bound to find out anyway. I’m sure Jisung and Seungmin would have told her one of these days.”

“Hey!” Jisung protests, “I would not have done so without your permission.”

“You just agreed that you would have told y/n either way...just with Minho’s permission.” Seungmin laughs.

Jisung puffs his cheeks out, causing the other males to chuckle in amusement. You find yourself smiling at the situation too; having a circle of friends who managed to smile despite the existence of problems wasn’t something you were used to after all. Maybe dropping your walls wasn’t such a bad idea as long as it was these boys.

Soon, Changbin playfully salutes before getting up from his seat and laughing, “I’ll excuse myself first. I haven’t gotten any sleep since my last mission.”

Minho nods, “Sleep well.”

The buff agent smiles before making his leave. Hyunjin follows suit, stretching his tall figure as he stands, “And I will look for Jeongin to bug him...he owes me coffee.”

“Well, that’s my cue too.” Jisung hops up, “Felix and I are off to that new pizza place.”

The two males then wave and say goodbye before exiting the room. Chan looks at you and the remaining agents and asks, “And you guys?”

Seungmin stifles a yawn, “I think I’ll copy Changbin. I need some sleep...maybe just nap.”

“I’m not sure yet.” you answer next, shrugging your shoulders as you pout your lips in thought.

When Minho remains silent, eyes looking at Chan with some sort of bro-code message, the eldest agent chuckles softly. “Alright, you should all get some rest. If you need me, I’ll probably be snacking in the lounge.” Chan states before getting up.

With that, he and Seungmin leave the room, leaving you alone with Minho. The silence doesn’t last long for as soon as Minho turns to face you, you offer a small smile. and say, “Do you have a moment?”

Minho looks taken by surprise at first but eventually recovers with ease. “Sure.” he nods in response.

You both then leave the meeting room together, some sort of unspoken agreement to walk towards the living quarters. A few minutes later, you find yourselves in one of the rooftop decks of the living quarters’ building, the expanse of the sky greeting you. You walk over to the railing, leaning slightly to admire the view as a gentle breeze idly blows around. Minho joins in, falling into step right beside you as he props an elbow on the railing.

“Is something wrong?” he quietly asks, eyes intently studying your features.

“How…” you begin to say, but a sudden wave of emotions causes you to press your lips in a tight, flat line.

Your eyes dart to the floor a bit shakily, and Minho is instantly aware of whatever internal struggle you’re battling with. He then takes the initiative to help you, slowly reaching one hand out to intertwine your fingers together. While gently swaying your hands like a hammock, he smiles, “It’s ok.”

You give him a small smile in return, squeezing his hand in an expression of gratitude. Slowly, you manage to speak up again, “How do you get over witnessing death? Someone dying?”

Minho more than understands what your question meant - it was definitely about Hyunbin.

“You’re a doctor, y/n.” Minho starts slowly, “I’d assume death isn’t something new to you.”

At this, a small yet gloomy smile graces your lips as you reply, “I know. But the death I witness in hospitals is very different from the death...in that context.”

Minho stays quiet, analytical eyes still studying your behavior. You then add, “When a patient dies, it hurts, but we know it’s part of life - we can’t save everyone. I know that, and I’m accustomed to it. But when you...you witness someone dying in a much more gruesome way for intentions that are more twisted than you’d like...how do you forget about it?”

“You don’t.” Minho says flatly, a resigned sigh following after, “That’s just how it is. Hyunbin’s death will follow you for the rest of your life, y/n. I’d know because Jiyeon’s death did. You never really forget things like that once you’ve seen them. They have a way of sticking with you.”

“I see.”

“But…” the male trails off, using his other free hand to lift your chin so that your gazes met. He continues, “You can choose to wallow in despair and let that hold you back, or move past it and use it as a stepping stone to become stronger...better. They never leave you, but you can choose to focus on things that are living - things that actually matter.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you look up at the male. The warm, orange hues of the setting sky paints Minho’s features with an ethereal glow, and his hair dances along with the breeze, making him look like a painting that has come to life - a very handsome, strong and smart painting. There’s a sharpness to Minho that is countered by elegance and refinement; he looks tired and worn-out yet is full of life and passion.

“You’re right.” you finally respond, “Thank you. Again.”

Without warning, Minho pulls you closer, circling his arms around your waist. As soon as you feel his arms around you, you nuzzle your face against his chest and take a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I’m being selfish like this.” you say quietly, “I’ve never had anyone to trust to this extent. It’s all...new.”

Minho chuckles, his voice low yet calm, “It’s alright, y/n. You’re not being selfish, don’t worry.”

You remain in each other’s arms for a few more seconds before Minho pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. “I know Hyunbin broke your trust,” he starts, “but I will never. I promise you that.”

“I know, Minho.” your gaze pierces his fiercely, “I know.”

You’re now both stuck in time, eyes trailing down to each other’s semi-parted lips, unmoving despite the breeze picking up. The sun sets much lower, painting the sky now a dusky shade of purple. You feel one of Minho’s hands reach up to your face, his knuckles gingerly grazing along your jaw; it sends a jolt of electricity down your spine, prompting a brief shiver.

“Minho…”

“I’ll be the selfish one right now.”

And it’s the last thing he says before closing whatever distance stood between you, sealing your lips with his own. It, however, isn’t just him that makes a move - you meet him halfway as well, very much wanting to be selfish and allowing yourself to indulge in something...more.

This kiss is slower and much calmer compared to the one you both shared in the inn the other night; that one was hungry, sudden and a bit rushed. This...this was much more intimate and deliberate as both you and Minho took the time to really relish and savor every glide and slide of your lips against each other. The way Minho kisses is gentle yet solid, patient yet passionate - it sends tingles in every fiber of your body as it does to his.

His right arm goes around your waist as his left hand braces the back of your neck to support it as he tilts your head back. You gasp out, arms flying up to coil around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair at the base of his nape as you allow the male entrance to kiss you deeper, melting in his hold as his tongue finds yours in a tango. It’s amazing - it feels amazing.

You’re 100% Minho has kissed many people, whether he meant it or not, but you...you’ve never. To experience such bliss and magic with a man like him was certainly something else, and it made you feel like no scientific or medical discovery could give you this ecstasy. It felt like with every second and every kiss, he took your worries away - your fears and ghosts away.

After a moment, you both pull apart for air, breaths labored as your foreheads rest against each other. Your face is extremely flushed as a tint of pink dusts Minho’s cheeks. The male’s lips curl into a small smile as he whispers, “Let me help you forget it all, y/n. Hyunbin, your past, your pain - everything.”

You nod and pull him closer to the point that not a single sliver of air could squeeze between your bodies. You kiss the tip of his nose and smile in response, “Please.”

And he kisses you again. And again. And again, until you’re both walking back down inside from the rooftop deck without a word, hand-in-hand as you take the elevators to the floor level of your room. Lips are on lips as soon as you enter your room, both of you hastily tumbling inside as the door shuts and the night creeps in.

But this time, you aren’t on your own.

You have someone to spend it with - physically and emotionally.

So when a moment of intimacy unfolds as the agent invades your space, you sigh contentedly. Every touch he administers, every kiss he plants, and every murmur of praise he utters fills you with not only pleasure but also the satisfaction and peace of knowing that Minho will handle you with care - that he won’t ruthlessly manipulate you like a doll but will instead hold you like porcelain ceramics - fragile yet priceless.

When a blanket of stars fills your eyes and a tingling heat explodes within you, you clutch at Minho’s back to draw him closer, feeling his warm skin against your own. You don’t even mind the sticky sweat between your bodies, refusing to let go of the male as if doing so would result in you being alone in the room once again. Like this with him, you feel like you’re home.

You feel the sheets comfortably pulled over both your bare and vulnerable bodies, and the male shifts around to gently lay beside you and pull you into his embrace. While you nuzzle against his chest, Minho traces small patterns down your spine as you both catch your breaths and come down from cloud 9. You feel safe.

But it’s when you feel him plant a soft kiss on your forehead and hear a hushed “I’m here” that you truly, truly feel a boulder lifted from your shoulders - from your heart, in fact.

Tonight, snuggly enveloped in Minho’s arms in the comfort of your bed, you fall asleep without fear of darkness suffocating you.

“Yeah, no.” Hyunjin snickers, “You two are definitely fuc - ”

“Hyunjin!” you hiss, waving your hands in front of the agent, “Don’t say that! That’s not what’s happening!”

The long-haired male rolls his eyes before smirking, “Let me see...you both have so much tension, look at each other with sweet gazes, Minho would kill to protect you, you showered together, kissed at the inn, slept in each other’s arms, made out yesterday, and slept with each other in your room again. You guys seem like great best friends then.”

“I’m not saying we aren’t more than friends, but that’s just it, isn’t it?” you start, “What...what are we? I don’t think we’re....romantically involved just yet. Flings?”

“Minho doesn’t do flings unless he’s undercover, y/n.” Hyunjin advises you with a smile, “Jiyeon was his last serious relationship before he vowed to never get attached to someone again. All the people he’s kissed, dated or slept with are for undercover purposes. So you gotta believe me when I say that he’s romantically and emotionally attached to you by now.”

You pout your lips and lean back on your chair, fingers fiddling with the stem of the cherry placed atop of the cake you ordered, “I’m...not even going to be with SKZ permanently. I’m...leaving after this case.”

Seungmin shrugs, his disposition collected and relaxed, “Then he’d just visit you off-duty hours. It’s going to be like some long-distance relationship. I doubt Minho’s going to let this be a temporary thing.”

“We can figure the technicalities out later. Did you and Minho perhaps...do anything more than sleep together recently? And I’m not talking about literally sleeping with each other.” Hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows.

You raise an eyebrow, “Why do you ask though?”

“I’m trying to assess the level of seriousness and attachment Minho has!” Hyunjin says a bit too seriously as if this were some sort of world-changing matter, “It’s crucial that I know this...as both your friends, after all.”

“Y/n, you were complaining about walking to this cafe instead of taking the bus, right?” Seungmin asks out of the blue.

“Yes, because as I said before we even left HQ, my legs have some sort of ache.”

Instant regret. Seungmin seems to put things together much quicker than you’d like, however. “Well, since you said Minho spent the night with you last night...and judging by how you have ‘leg ache’...yeah.”

“Oh!” Hyunjin gasps upon realizing the truth as well, “So you did have sex last night! Y/n!”

“Shhhh!” you hiss, cheeks now red and hot, “How are my legs hurting related to sex? You both haven’t considered that I’ve been running for my life each time I’m on a mission with you all!”

“For a doctor, you’re kinda dense.” Hyunjin teases.

You groan, shooting both males a glare before sipping your coffee, “I agreed to eat breakfast with you two so we could bond...not get interviewed about my relationship with Minho.”

Seungmin chuckles, his smile bright and happy, “Well, you could say that we just want Minho to...you know, be happy again. To be himself and not some agent hiding behind a stone wall of coldness. It’s apparent that he’s more himself with you.”

“But he’s himself with all of you too.” you point out.

Hyunjin nods, “Yeah, but that’s ‘cause we’re his closest friends. Other than us, Minho is either cold, apathetic or nonchalant. You’re technically part of his ‘close friends’ circle now, or maybe even more. You’ve managed to get him to get over that wall he built after Jiyeon.”

Seungmin laughs, “We’re not going to meddle. I guess what we’re just trying to get at is...be happy. Both you and Minho. Whatever happens, just...do what makes you happy.”

You offer a small smile to both males, “I’m...happy as long as you’re all happy and safe. Even after this case, I want you all to be happy and safe.”

“You have our word, y/n.”

“We promise.”

With that, the three of you shift your conversation to more friendly and light-hearted matters, laughing over breakfast platters and cakes and coffee. If this were a fictional novel, this was probably what the main character would be doing with her college best friends, living life as the sun shone above their peaceful city. And for now, you let yourself live out and play your little novel-like moment with Hyunjin and Seungmin.

The next few hours and days could change everything, after all.

Meanwhile, four agents drive to a high-end bar, dressed in suits and looking like expensive gentlemen. Once inside, one of the bouncers asks for their name. Chan, leading the group, replies, “Christopher.”

“Ah, very well.”

The bouncer then ushers the group to a private room in the back of the bar. Once he leaves them to be, the four males settle on the velvet couch and relax for a moment. Chan picks up the small menu on the glass coffee table and hums, “We’re technically off-duty, so might as well get something.”

“I like that.” Jisung chuckles from where he sits.

A few seconds later, a bartender enters the private room and takes down each male’s order before leaving to prepare the drinks. Minho leans back on the couch and crosses his arms, “He’s late huh…”

“Isn’t he always?” Changbin chuckles.

“Let’s enjoy the drinks while we wait.” Jisung grins, “We deserve it.”

“Agreed.” Chan laughs.

“Bet Hyunjin would have wanted to come with us here.” Changbin says.

Minho shrugs, “I mean, we did tell him. He just wanted to eat breakfast in a cafe today.”

“I think y/n’s with him and Seungmin.” Jisung adds, “Surprised you aren’t together right now.”

Minho smirks, “We were last night. She doesn’t have to be with me 24/7 you know? Y/n’s an independent woman.”

“Ok, yeah that’s true…” Changbin leans closer, “But back-track...you were with her last night?”

Minho shrugs casually, never missing a beat as he gives a knowing and very much suggestive wink. Chan gasps, holding in a laugh as he gently shoves Minho’s side. “Took you long enough to realize you love her!” the eldest male sighs in relief.

“Wait, you confessed?” Jisung and Changbin gasp simultaneously.

“Not exactly.” Minho clarifies, “But…I’d like to think I made my feelings and intentions clear...well, clearer.”

“And how exactly did you do that?” Changbin raises an eyebrow curiously.

Just then, the bartender knocks on the door again, opening it shortly after. The agents allow him to finish serving their respective drinks and make his leave before continuing their conversation. With the bartender gone, Minho grabs his cocktail glass and takes a sip before clearing his throat, “I kissed her.”

“No offense,” Jisung starts with a cheeky grin, “but y/n is not going to understand your feelings with a kiss. She’s super smart, yeah, but she’s denser than you are. She’s just going to think you’re showing her care or something.”

“True.” Minho starts slowly, calculating his next choice of words after another sip, “We also...kind of...did it last night.”

Changbin nearly chokes on his drink while Jisung chugs his in one go. Chan, on the other hand, sips his drink with a knowing smile. “Yeah, I’m sure she knows how you feel now. Impossible to miss the hints and signs if you had sex with someone as…distrusting as both of you are towards others.” the eldest male notes.

“Exactly. I’m sure y/n knows I don’t...do relationships.” Minho says.

Changbin smiles like a proud friend, “But you do know that you’re both going to have to properly and officially talk about...whatever you have going on between you two, right?”

“I know.” Minho shrugs, “I’ll address it after this case.”

“Good enough.” Jisung places his empty glass on the table.

A few minutes later, the door opens to reveal another man in a suit, greeting the four agents with a warm smile and a quick wave. Chan stands first, followed by the other three. They bow in respect before the eldest agent speaks, “Sir.”

The man chuckles and gestures for the agents to return to their seats. With a casual tone, the man speaks as well, “I see you already got some drinks.”

Chan lightly chuckles, “Would you like to order something, sir?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” the man responds with a smile before settling down on the empty space on the couch, “Just had coffee. Now, shall we?”

“Alright.” Chan starts, “Dr. Song has reported that she and her team are nearly finished with the solution against Cle’s serum. However, the truth is, she actually is finished with it.”

“So, in the briefing session you all recently had, she did not disclose this?” the man asks out of curiosity.

Minho speaks up next, leaning forward, “Dr. Song’s a very wary person; she doesn’t really feel comfortable telling people certain things. The only people who know the solution is actually complete are me, Chan, and well...our friends. Now, you.”

“I see. I believe it’s best if we keep it that way until Jung mobilizes teams to interfere with Cle business.” the man explains, “I suggest that Dr. Song and you all keep it a secret until we actually get a move on Cle.”

Changbin adds, “Sir, our latest intel suggests that Cle will start transacting with other parties very soon.”

The man nods, “I see. Well, if that’s the case, once we confirm a date or receive concrete data that a transaction is actually taking place, Dr. Song can reveal that the solution is complete. Agent Han, have you and Dr. Song produced an ample amount of solution?”

Jisung thinks for a second before turning his eyes to the man and answering, “Right now, we have about...three to four vials ready. Seungmin, Dr. Song and I are going to make more today and in the next few days. We hope to have more than 50 by then.”

“That’s more than enough for now.” the man smiles reassuringly, “Well, so far so good. Everything seems to be good for now. I guess that’s it. I’ll just remind you boys to be careful and wary the next few days since...as you mentioned, some Cle activity may take place.”

“Yes, sir.” the four agents nod.

A few minutes later, the man says goodbye and makes his leave, leaving the four younger males in the private room. Changbin looks to Chan and says, “I seriously can’t wait for this case to be over.”

“Same.” Jisung sighs as he slumps back on the couch.

“I do too…” Chan trails off before his serious expression turns into something more playful, “...but that would also mean y/n will leave and return to Gongjak. Guess who’s going to be sad?”

Minho doesn’t hear. Or at least, he pretends to not hear. The faint shade of pink on his cheeks betrays him, and the three other agents with him can tell that he heard Chan’s teasing. Minho looks up from his phone, trying his best to keep his expression neutral. “I’m not going to be sad. As I said, y/n’s an independent woman. She’s an adult with her own life.” he says.

Jisung pouts, “But you love her.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean she has to stay.” Minho points out with a shrug, “If she chooses to leave, then she leaves.”

Chan offers a small smile before standing up, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, why don’t we drop by the cafe Hyunjin and Seungmin brought her to? Might as well have a little rest time before we get back to work.”

Changbin is quick to his feet, “Yeah, I’ve been craving that bacon and egg sandwich for a while now. Let’s go.”

And that was how your group ended up in the cafe where Wooyoung worked, your group of three now joined with another four agents. Wooyoung amusedly transferred your group to an area with a larger table as he served the newcomers’ drinks, allowing everyone to be more comfortable. On one end, Chan, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jisung sat next to each other. On the other end, it was you, Changbin and Minho.

While everyone was enjoying their food and coffee, Chan looks across the table, eyes flitting between you and Minho. You’re the first one to notice his gaze as Minho was too busy talking to Hyunjin and Jisung about the cake they were eating. You tilt your head at the older agent as if to ask if there was something wrong.

“How was last night?” he asks, the mischievous glint in his eyes now more visible.

Your brain goes into overdrive as your cheeks flush with color instantly. You gasp, staring at the agent with a flustered expression, “You!”

This causes Chan to laugh, catching the attention of the other agents. Minho looks at Chan before turning his attention to you, and instantly, he catches your eye when you turn to face him. Like magnets, you refuse to break eye contact, to the point that Jisung coughs a very not-so-subtle “get a room oh wait they already did”.

With a smirk, Minho leans forward to kiss your cheek before turning to Chan, “She thinks it was very good, don’t worry.”

“Minho!” you slap his arm before turning to Seungmin for assistance; however, the doctor just smiles and shrugs as if the green tea cake he was eating needed more attention.

Changbin stifles a laugh, “Not gonna lie, you’re both so cute. Perfect for each other.”

“Agreed.” Hyunjin sips his americano, “Such a lovely couple.”

“Well, there goes my peaceful morning.” you grumble, playing with the fork near your plate.

Despite your words, a small smile forms on your lips as the other boys giggle and get giddy over whatever you and Minho have going on. A small smile forms on your lips when you feel Minho’s hand clasping around yours from under the table.

“To be fair, your morning was going to be far from peaceful if you woke up naked next to a similarly naked Minho.” Jisung jokes.

“Eat your cheesecake, Han Jisung.”

166 notes · View notes

gingeralepdf · 3 years

Text

Walk On By - Part 2

A/N: yay!!!!!! another installment in the shroomrry cinematic universe is here!! i want to say a huge thank you to el ( @harrytheehottie ) and brailey ( @daydreamsofh ) for being excellent beta readers and supporters. <3 <3

and thank you to everyone who has shown my writing love. i truly appreciate it so much. i hope you like this part just as much as the first one. :-)

if you haven’t read part 1, catch up here!!

🍄✨🌈✨🍄✨🌈✨🍄✨🌈✨🍄

****CONTENT WARNING**** alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use

You’re simply buying magic mushrooms from Harry. However, if you keep running into each other, is it going to stay that simple?

word count: just under 5k

**September 15th, 1977, Los Angeles, California**

The brakes on your car squeal as you pull into the last empty spot along the curb and shift into park. The music from your radio comes to an abrupt stop when you turn the key back to shut the engine off. Your head hits the headrest behind you before you empty your lungs into the silence.

Cars drive past on the street to your left. It’s just past five thirty, so all of the after work traffic is in full swing.

You’ve been avoiding this errand for two weeks now. There’s a record that you’ve been wanting to get your hands on ever since one of your coworkers played it at a work function. After looking through shelf after shelf in all of your favorite shops in L.A., and even making some calls to shops in surrounding areas, they’ve all come up short.

This seems to be your very last resort. Right across the street, sandwiched between a donut shop and a hair salon, is Jupiter House Records. From what you remember, this shop has a really good selection and variety, but the handful of unpleasant interactions you’ve had with the owner have been enough to make you look somewhere else. You’ve been stubbornly avoiding this place for years. Now you have a whole other reason for not wanting to spend hours in this store digging through to find your favorites or discover new ones.

Harry works here.

You haven’t seen him since he showed up on your doorstep to return your address book. The conversation you had with Jenny when she came home from work that evening plays through your mind again.

Both of you plop down on opposite sides of the couch in your living room. You sigh and take a big sip from your glass of wine before explaining the whole interaction to her, starting from the moment you opened the door to the moment you saw him drive away in his car.

Jenny grins. The only sound in the room comes from the ticking of the clock on the wall as you wait for her response. “I think he likes you.”

You squint. “That’s what you’re taking away from all of that?”

Her eyes widen and she springs forward, almost sloshing the wine out of her glass when she sets it on the coffee table. “Oh, so you’re telling me he saw the ‘If lost please return to..’ in your address book and decided to make a trip to our house to return it to you in person, when he could have just sent it in the mail?”

You can feel a crease forming between your eyebrows and you take in a sharp breath, fully prepared to counter her point, but she barrels through.

“And he wanted to ‘make sure you were okay’. Out of all the dealers that we’ve met, how many have just shown up at our houses to check up on us? Zero.”

You press your lips together. You can’t argue the fact that this alone sets Harry apart. However, this doesn’t mean he likes you. Maybe it just means that he’s the kind of person that goes the extra mile for the people he does business with. He could have easily left you and Jen sitting on the sidewalk after the concert, but he decided to help, to do what any other good-natured person would do.

“And let’s not forget how he threw the paper on the doorstep so you wouldn’t have to walk all the way down the driveway.” Jenny clutches her chest and swoons.

Scoffing at the way she’s adding dramatics, you challenge, “How do you know he didn’t show up here to see you?”

“He didn’t ask about me, did he?”

“No,” you begrudgingly mumble into your glass.

She grabs her glass from the coffee table and gives you a knowing look. She’s made her point, and the more it lingers like the aftertaste of wine, the more conflicted you become.

You’ve spent more idle moments than you’d like to admit since then thinking about the night you were sitting outside of the Forum. Thinking about what possessed you to lean in and study his face so closely. Was it solely the effects of the drugs? If that’s the case, then why do you want to go back to that moment so badly? And why didn’t Harry pull away? Did he really blush when you were staring at him? Was his heart really racing when you gave him a hug, or was that just your wild imagination?

The honking of a car brings you out of your thoughts. You take a deep breath and trill your lips. There’s a slight break in traffic. If you don’t get out of your car and cross the street now, you fear you’ll stay here stuck in your thoughts all evening.

With a huff, you rip your keys from the ignition and push your door open. You cross the street, walking with a purpose, and make it to the sidewalk.

The full strength of your nerves doesn’t hit you until you’re just in front of the store and the glass door swings out with a simultaneous chime of a bell. Your heart drops from your chest to your stomach and you freeze on the sidewalk to avoid colliding with the man exiting the shop.

When he stops to hold the door open for you, it takes you a moment to gather yourself. You mutter a ‘thank you’ as your hand firmly grips the cool metal of the door handle. Almost like you’re using it as a crutch to get you through the threshold.

Your shoes meet the shaggy mustard yellow carpet, matted down by years of customer traffic.

A woman that looks about your age greets you from behind a counter to your right. You return her half smile and she goes back to flipping through the magazine on the counter in front of her. The nametag on her floral shirt reads ‘Nora’. Behind her is a door with a red ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ sign taped to it.

Underneath the counter that she’s leaning on is a glass case holding records and cassette tapes, all marked ‘deluxe’ or ‘limited edition’. Spread out next to them are a few t-shirts, buttons, and stickers with the store logo printed on them.

You weren’t expecting it to be so quiet. Right now it seems like you and Nora are the only people in the store. The coast is clear. You can relax a bit. The adrenaline rush you were feeling on the other side of the door has now been replaced by the whirring of the air vents and David Bowie’s “Queen Bitch” playing over the speakers.

You turn to your left to take in the rest of the store, meandering into the first row of record shelves.

The large window taking up the entire front wall lets in plenty of evening sun that warms your skin through your shirt. More shelves, each one three tiers deep, line the rest of the walls and create aisles in the middle of the room.

Signs hanging from the ceiling above each section indicate the genre. The one you’re standing next to is labeled ‘new releases’ with a smaller font that reads ‘alpha by artist’. Other sections are labeled country, rock, disco, classical. Your eyes land on the back corner of the store where the funk, soul, and jazz sections are.

You make your way over while pulling your sleeves up to your elbows.

Unsure of which specific section the record you’re looking for will be in, you decide to start on one end of the corner and search all the way through to the other in hopes of finding it.

You fall into a familiar routine of searching through the first tier, then the second, leaning over to search through the top tier, and then taking a step over to start the whole process again.

Once you’re about halfway through the soul section, the bell on the door chimes again. You can’t be bothered to look, not wanting to lose your place.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

Goddamnit. Your hands freeze their movements and your heart begins to race all over again. You know exactly who just walked through that door.

“Harry,” Nora admonishes, “I finally have a date after two months and you’re gonna make me late.”

Harry’s mumbled response is drowned out by the loud creak of the door behind the counter, but judging by Nora’s gasp and the unmistakable thwack of a magazine, maybe it’s better left between the two of them.

You begin to slowly file through records again, this time not paying much attention to what you’re doing. More-so to give your hands something to do and appear busy while trying to hear the rest of their conversation.

Nora sighs, “It’s been really slow today. Hopefully it’s a slow night for you.” All you hear is some shuffling before she adds, “Oh, boss wanted me to remind you not to play the music too loud.”

“Did he? Dunno what he’s talking about,” Harry says, feigning innocence.

Nora laughs, “Whatever.”

The next thing you hear is the jingling of keys and footsteps across the carpet.

Harry raises his voice from the back room, “Are you gonna punch out?”

“Will you do it for me? I’ve gotta go.”

“Sure.”

The bell on the door rings and Nora yells from the doorway, “I left three boxes in the back for you to restock!”

“Oh thanks,” Harry yells back with sarcastic enthusiasm.

“Bye,” she sings as she walks out.

The door slams behind her. The bell’s high pitched ringing seems to hang in the air.

Silence falls on the room when the song playing over the speakers stops suddenly, making the room quiet enough to hear the traffic outside. You hear a needle drop and after a few seconds, the opening guitar notes of “Can You Get to That” by Funkadelic begin to play. The corners of your mouth turn down to fight a smile when the volume is promptly turned up much louder than what it was when you walked in.

You take a sharp breath in, realizing that you’re going to have to turn around at some point. Surely you can’t just stay in this corner and keep your back turned to him until the place closes. You don’t know what you’re going to say to him. Will he even recognize you after not seeing you for weeks?

There’s not much time to decide what to do when the sound of footsteps approaching on the carpet is getting closer to you.

Your heart leaps into your throat when you hear his voice.

“Finding everything alright?”

You turn your head to the left.

Harry is standing a few shelves apart from you with a box propped between the shelf and his hip. The sunlight from the window shines through the ends of his hair and the sleeves of his white t-shirt when he grabs a record from the box and reaches out to carefully wedge it back into the right place. You scan down to where his shirt is tucked into a pair of dark brown corduroy pants, and further down to see a pair of dirty white sneakers peeking out from the ends of the flares. When he turns his head to the box again, you notice that his mustache is significantly thinner from the last time you saw each other.

Heat rushes up your neck and onto your face when he glances up at you.

His hand pauses in the air and his eyebrows raise slightly before the corners of his mouth do the same, revealing just a hint of his dimples. His head tilts back and he blinks in surprise. “Oh… hi.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding when he addresses you by name. Mirroring his smile and turning your shoulders to face him, you reply, “Hi. I… didn’t know you worked here.”

A flat out lie, but thankfully he doesn’t seem too suspect about it.

He frowns and looks down at his shirt, pulling it out in front of him to reveal his nametag. “Hm. M’ afraid I do,” he says flatly.

A breathy chuckle leaves you, amused at the way he’s effortlessly making sarcastic remarks like this with you and his coworker. Quite different from the stiffly awkward interactions you’ve had with him. It’s like you’re seeing him in his natural environment. Him being at ease is having the same effect on you.

“Do you need help finding anything?” he asks, continuing his previous actions, this time with a soft smile.

“Actually, yes,” you clear your throat, “I’m looking for this specific record. I’ve looked all over for it by now. I’m pretty sure it should be in one of these sections if you have it, but...” you trail off as you cast a glance over your shoulder to the shelves you have yet to go through.

“I can take a look in our inventory. Save you some time?”

Of course. Why didn’t you just ask about that when you first walked in? “Sure. That would be great.”

Harry hoists the box into the crook of his arm with a faint grunt and you follow him over to the counter. After setting the box at the end of the countertop, he walks to the other end and reaches underneath the register, pulling out a large beat up binder with ‘inventory’ written on the spine.

It lands on the counter with a plop, probably due to the huge stack of paper inside, separated by multicolored tabs.

“What’s the artist’s name?” he asks after opening the binder to the first page.

“The Equatics.”

He pulls on the ‘A’ tab and folds it over.

“Oh, sorry, it’s Equatics with an ‘E’.”

He tuts and shakes his head before tracing his finger down and pulling on the ‘E’ tab. “Equatics with an ‘E’,” he mumbles.

You fold your lips between your teeth.

Now you’re thankful for the loud music filling the room as you’re standing wordlessly in front of the counter watching him flip through the pages of the inventory binder. Hair hangs in front of his face as his head is tilted down to scan over the pages, all filled with scribbles, arrows, and notes in the margins written in blue, black, and red ink. It all means nothing to you, especially looking at it upside down. You can only imagine how tedious it must be to keep up with.

With his left hand pressed flat against the counter, the expanse of his arm is right in front of you. Hopefully he can’t feel your eyes surveying his tattoos, at least the ones you can see from this angle. A small cross on his hand, an anchor on his wrist, the tail of a mermaid, a delicate rose near his elbow, a heart just beneath the hem of his t-shirt.

He inhales sharply and clears his throat into his fist, “Looks like we do have it. It’s actually in our as-is section.” As he’s speaking, he spins the binder in your direction and slides his finger almost to the bottom of the page to point out where it lists the artist, album title, and the section it’s in.

Despite the relief that comes with finally finding something you’ve been searching for, your face falls a bit. You know that ‘as-is’ is often just a nice way of saying that something is heavily used. “Does that mean it’s… damaged?”

Harry hums and tilts his head to the side, not meeting your eyes until he responds.

“Not always. Honestly we’re pretty much required to put stuff in that section even if it’s just the sleeve that’s messed up. Sometimes the record itself is still in great condition. You can still find some good stuff in there.”

“Okay. Where’s the as-is section?” You don’t remember seeing a sign for it when you walked in, unless you just overlooked it.

“Right. It's, uh, down this hallway here. Kind of hidden.”

Harry rounds the end of the counter and you follow him over to a doorway covered with a ruby red beaded curtain. Harry pulls it to the side and steps through first, pausing to hold the curtain back for you. You mutter a ‘thanks’ and step into a long hallway that extends to your right.

He releases the curtain, letting the beads crash together, before starting down the hallway.

Both walls are lined with floor to ceiling shelves full of cassette tapes, with each row of shelving just tall enough to fit their size. There’s so much packed in this long stretch of narrow space, like a condensed, fluorescent-lit cornucopia.

“I had no idea all of this was back here,” you comment, slightly dumbfounded that you probably would have overlooked this hallway entirely if it hadn’t been pointed out to you.

“Yeah, lots of people think it’s off limits because of the curtain. I need to put some signs up or something.”

As you’re walking behind Harry, you realize you were too distracted before to see print on the back of his shirt, let alone make out what it said. Bold purple font reads ‘MY MIND IS UP ON THE MOUNTAINS’ with a smaller font at the bottom that reads ‘(and i didn’t even have to climb)’. The words are surrounded by a sun, a few flowers, a picture of a mountain, and two mushrooms on the bottom.

A smirk creeps onto the corner of your mouth at how incredibly on the nose it seems for him. It makes you wonder if anyone here knows about his other job, or if he’s hiding in plain sight.

Once you’re both about a third of the way down the hallway, there’s a gap in the shelves on the right filled by a nondescript doorway.

“Here we are.” Harry stops and reaches on the other side of the doorway to flip the light switch before stepping back and gesturing for you to walk in first.

You step into a small room. It only contains two long folding tables pushed against opposite walls. Rather than fancy, neat shelves, the records here are stored in milk crates and cardboard boxes lined up on the tops of the tables. It almost looks like you’ve come across a garage sale.

You furrow your eyebrows and purse your lips to the side as you walk up to the first box at the end of the table closest to the door. When you reach in, Harry speaks up.

“I could help you look for a bit, if you want.”

Harry’s now leaning against the doorframe, running a hand against his jaw. Do you see a slight tinge of pink creeping onto his cheeks as well?

“I don’t really have anything better to do. Plus this section... isn’t really organized,” he continues.

You bring your attention back to the box in front of you, a sharp breath escaping your nose when you turn the Johnny Cash record back to reveal a Mozart one behind it. “I can see that.”

“But if you want to look around by yourself I understand, I can leave you to it,” he says, already slightly backing up into the hallway.

“No, I wouldn’t mind the company. You could take that table and I’ll take this one?” Your own words surprise you as you’re speaking them. Moments ago you had been dreading crossing paths with him again, but now that you’re having a moment that feels comfortable, you find yourself wanting him to stick around longer.

A curiosity is growing in your mind, wondering if Harry is feeling the same way, if that’s why he offered to help, if that’s why he slowly joins you in the room and mirrors your position at the table behind you so you’re not standing back to back.

You both search through the crates without a word, only the faint sound of the music from the front room coming down the hallway. Meanwhile, your thoughts are going back and forth between Jenny insisting that this man likes you and talking yourself out of that idea, insisting that he’s simply being nice, doing his job.

“How have you been?”

The question catches you off guard, taking a moment to realize that he’s actually said it out loud. “Um. I’ve been good. Nothing exciting going on, just working a lot. You?”

“I’m alright, thanks. I’ve been working a lot too. Where do you work? Don’t think I’ve asked you.”

“Do you ever listen to KIIS-FM?”

“Yes?” He responds, possibly thinking that you’re trying to shift the subject.

You smile to yourself, “You’re welcome. I’m a sound engineer there.”

“Oh shit,” he says enthusiastically. “That’s really cool. Do you like it?”

Briefly turning to look at him, your smile grows wider when you read the interest and excitement on his face. An expression you’re seeing for the first time in him, and it's because of something about you. Your heart flutters and you turn back to your table.

“Most days, I do. It can be a real dick fest sometimes though. Not in a good way.”

Despite mumbling the last sentence, Harry seems to still pick it up.

He barks out a laugh. You turn, eyes wide, to see his shoulders shaking and him covering his mouth with his hand.

When he turns back to you, clearly making a lot of effort to compose himself, he places his hand over his heart. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh yeah, the way you laughed really convinced me,” you lightheartedly roll your eyes.

“No it’s just… the way you said it was really funny,” he says, chuckling through his words. He continues, “So you studied engineering at UCLA then?”

Your eyebrows crease as his words hang in the air. You guess it’s not wild to assume that people who live in L.A. have attended UCLA. However, since you’ve never mentioned any kind of schooling to Harry, you can only gather that he’s making that assumption from the UCLA t-shirt you were wearing when he showed up at your house.

“I thought I remembered Jenny mentioning that you both went there.” His tone is cautious now, hesitant even. Like he’s picked up on his own blunder.

You decide to brush over it and simply nod, “Yeah, that’s how we met, actually.”

You return to looking through the crate in front of you. You gasp when you see the familiar red cover of the album you’re looking for.

You feel Harry turn around behind you. “Find it?”

You pull it from the crate. The bold red cover with a blue-grey circle in the middle, running your finger over the lines and arrows creating rings around it with a few stars placed here and there. You turn to smile at Harry, holding up the record in place of an answer, too excited to form words. The paper dust liner crinkles as you slide the plastic disc from the sleeve. Holding it by the edges, you tilt it to the left, to the right, and hold it up closer to the light to inspect it. Your shoulders visibly fall when you spot a long scratch running from the middle to the edge.

“Oh no,” you whisper, bringing the record closer to your face. You lightly run your finger over the scratch. It doesn’t feel rough, you actually can’t feel it at all. A fraction of hope is restored knowing that the scratch isn’t too deep into the grooves. However, there’s no way to know if it’s unplayable unless you actually try to play it.

Harry seems to read your mind. “You could test it out on the player up front if you want.”

“Really?” You spin around, seeming to shock him judging by the way his upper body slightly jerks back. “I mean-- I would appreciate that. If it’s not too much--”

He shakes his head, “It’s not a problem.” He walks toward the door where he waits for you to gather everything up.

The front of the store quiet once you both emerge from the other side of the curtain.

“I liked your choice of work music, by the way,” you say once you’ve both made it back to the counter, hugging your record to your chest.

“Oh yeah, Maggot Brain. S’ a fun album.”

You lean forward to rest your forearms against the smooth wood of the counter, waiting while he takes the record off the player to make room for yours. “Do you listen to a lot of funk music?”

“I do. I’ve never really understood why some people aren’t into it. What’s not to love, right?”

“Exactly! My coworker showed me this album and I think it’s one of my favorites now. It was recorded by this group of high school students in seventy two. They won some studio time in a contest or something and they really made the most of it.”

“Hm. M’ excited to listen to it now.” He stretches his hand out, “I’ll take that.”

You hand over the album. “Could you start it on track two? I think that’s my favorite one.”

“Sure.” He places the record on the player and carefully moves the needle in place.

A warm feeling washes over you when you hear the familiar soft guitar and drum beat at the beginning of the song. You both stand in place as the bass line comes in and all of the instruments’ parts crescendo.

Once the beat drops and the main guitar comes in, Harry turns to you with raised eyebrows and an impressed smile.

“Amazing, right?” you ask through a chuckle.

“It’s really good.”

“I know! And I don’t notice the scratch at all. It sounds perfect.”

“S’ exciting. I’m glad you found it.”

He walks over to where you are and starts to inspect the sleeve, turning it over to read the back. He adopts a similar position as you, forearms resting on the counter as he taps his fingers on his bicep to the beat of the song.

“That guitar part is amazing.”

He’s leaning close enough now that you can see a hint of stubble along his jawline and his upper lip. His cologne, a swirl of vanilla and something else you can’t quite put your finger on. He looks up when you don’t respond and you avert your eyes immediately.

“I think so too,” you mumble.

“I find it crazy how something really amazing can be right in front of you for so long and you never notice it or you just keep missing it.” A pause. “This has been in the back room for… I don’t even know how long, and I probably never would have listened to it if you hadn’t been looking for it.” Another brief pause as he scratches at his chin, seeming to be in deep thought. He shakes his head, “I don’t know. Maybe that’s weird, but I think about that kind of thing a lot.”

“I don’t think it’s weird. That can happen with… so many things, too.”

“Like people.”

His eyes quickly dance over your face. You swear they linger on your lips for a second before returning to meet your eyes.

“Like people,” you repeat. “And I think it is good to think about that stuff from time to time but… it can get overwhelming. Sometimes it could even distract you from the things you’re enjoying now.”

Your eyes do the same motions, glancing all over his face, lingering on his lips, and then back to his eyes. This feels extremely reminiscent of the night you were sitting outside of the Forum, when you were practically nose to nose after you had taken a whiff of his hair. You had been telling yourself that the gravitational pull you felt that night was solely induced by the shrooms. However, you seem to be feeling it again now as your eyes trace over the plane of his cheek, the tip of his nose, the arch of his lip.

A slight crease between his eyebrows slightly contradicts the almost tender look in his eyes. He opens his mouth like he’s about to speak.

Unfortunately he’s interrupted by the shrill ringing of the phone on the wall behind him.

You flinch at the sudden noise and Harry huffs in annoyance before clearing his throat into his fist.

He walks over to the player to turn the music down before answering the phone with a simple, clipped “Jupiter House.”

He covers the receiver with his hand and mouths ‘sorry’ to you before holding up a finger and going into the back room, closing the door until it's just cracked behind him.

You release a heavy sigh and rub your temples.

After a short conversation, Harry comes back and hangs up the phone.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, untangling the cord from his fingers. “Are you happy with this, then?” He asks, pointing to the record player.

“Uh- yes. Yes. I am.”

You go through the transaction in silence, watching the way Harry slides your record into a brown paper bag and the way he makes your change. At this moment, you’re wishing Harry came with a cartoon thought bubble over his head so you could know what he’s thinking right now. What exactly did he mean when he said ‘like people’? What was he about to say before he was interrupted?

He carefully folds and creases the paper, but instead of handing it over, he pauses, hands poised on the top of the bag.

“Sorry, I forgot something.” He opens the bag again and crouches down behind the counter.

“What--”

Before you can get your question out, his hand reaches into the glass case between you, hovering over the merchandise that you noticed when you first walked in. He picks out a button and a sticker. You hear them drop into the bag before he pops up from behind the counter.

“You didn’t have to--”

“I know.”

His smile and his voice are reassuring, absolving your confusion in a matter of seconds.

“Thanks for your help. It was nice running into you,” you smile, taking the bag and holding the record to your chest once again.

“Take care. I’ll see you around.” He smiles.

You back away from the counter and push open the door. The bell rings in your ears one last time.

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

thank you so much for reading!!

if you enjoyed part 2, please remember that reblogs and/or nice messages mean the world to fic writers. <3

you can find my masterlist here and my inbox here

-> STAY TUNED FOR PART 3 <-

#shroomrry #my writing #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles reader insert #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #drugs tw #alcohol tw

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theimmaterialplace · 3 years

Text

holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 2: falling

Chapter Summary: The morning after the reveal of Emily’s death and a conversation with Spencer.

Contains: mentions of cat-calling and panic attacks, light kissing, grief and mourning.

Word Count: 2.4k

Comments: this fic is my new baby and i will nurture it to its end. this is gonna end up being a long story and emily won't reappear for at least another 25k so there's that! also look i gave a little flashback to their relationship! in case i didn't elaborate enough, spencer and reader are quite close and have known each other since elle left which ill get into in another chapter! so that's why she has some of his clothes and why he's so close to her and latching onto her. reader is going through it rn but she's shoving it aside which isn't healthy and not good in the long run so she'll have to adress it eventually but that's not now! she's kinda numb rn and trying to keep it together for spencer which is going... as well as one would expect.

i think my favorite line in this was "The song ends but the moment doesn’t." and "But all moments have to come to an end."next chapter, we'll be getting the rest of the bau team (yay!) and emily's funeral (💔)! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! i love hearing feedback even if it’s something small!

also i’m gonna do a taglist for this fic so if you’d like to be added, send me an ask with the username you’d like to be tagged with!

masterlist | read on ao3

What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

- Harry Styles, "Falling"

When the morning comes, you wake up first on your couch and feel a crick in your neck. The night’s memories rush back to your mind and you immediately feel nauseous. You manage to very carefully separate yourself from Spencer and manage to make it to the restroom in time to vomit.

It’s awful.

You don’t even know why it’s still hitting you so hard when Spencer is the one that should be feeling like this. He’s the one that’s known her for years and you were nothing but a fling for her.

You don’t glance at yourself when you exit your bathroom, already knowing the state you’re in. When you enter your living room, Spencer is still out so you decide to do the next best thing you can for him.

You’re thankful that you already have some leftover ground coffee beans from the day before because you really don’t want to wake him up before you can put a cup of coffee in his hands. Going through the motions of making coffee and then a simple breakfast is calming.

You’re unsure if Spencer will be able to stomach anything if he’s anything like you are now so you make the lightest meal you can. When the coffee machine beeps, you grab two mugs and begin making the coffee the way he likes.

It’s as you’re making your own coffee that you’re interrupted by Spencer calling out your name. You turn around and find him rubbing his eyes and looking a bit better than when he first came in.

“Hey, Spence. I have some coffee if you want some,” you grab his mug at his nod and place it in his trembling hands, “it’s just how you like. Ninety percent sugar and cream and ten percent actual coffee.” A small smile crept onto his face at your joke and you’re glad you’ve managed to make him smile even if it’s just a little bit.

He sips on his coffee and you decide to plate the food that’s still warm onto your dining table. He follows and takes the seat across from you, mumbling his thanks. You both eat in silence for there are no words or fun quips to share with Emily gone.

Spencer is the first to break the silence. “Thank you… Thank you for last night. I couldn’t stay with my team after that. It was just too personal. I know I’ve mentioned it before but I’m the youngest of the team and though they mean well, they tend to baby me. I… I couldn’t handle it so I left them.” He pauses, fingertips tapping in a familiar tune on the ceramic mug, “I didn’t want to be alone and you’re the first person I thought of. I know you know… knew Emily and that you would just be there for me so thank you.”

He looks directly into your eyes as he says this and you know how serious this must mean for him so you reach out for his hand, which he extends for you, and squeeze it in your own. You have to articulate your response properly because you don’t want to scare him off by saying the wrong thing.

Maintaining eye contact, you speak, “I’m glad I was able to be there for you, Spencer. To be the first person you came to means a lot to me. I hope you know I’ll always be there for you, for the small and the big things. While I may not be as close… While I may not have been as close to Emily as you were, I will still grieve for her. Just knowing how much she meant to you is enough for me to know how much a beautiful person she was. From the little glimpses I’ve seen of her and the tidbits you’ve told me over the years, I know this is going to be one of the hardest things for you… and if you let me, I’d like to be there for you.”

He’s like an open book after you’ve told him your resolve, like the book you’ve reread more times you can count and the original copy has been worn down due with some of the passages long gone but memorized in your heart. His eyes are watering again and he’s out of his seat faster than you can comprehend and he lifts you up and his arms wrap around you tightly, as if you’re his lifeline.

He whispers words of gratitude into the crown of your head and you hold him back just as tightly, tears springing to your eyes. You’d do anything to take his pain away and if this is all you can do then you’ll do it willingly.

“I want you here,” his voice is low and wrecked, “I.. I don’t want to be alone. Please. Please don’t leave me. Everyone leaves, Please…”

You look up to him and grab his face gently in your hands, wiping the tears from his cheek as you say, “I’m not leaving, Spencer. I’m right here. I’m here for you always. I promise not to leave you. I’m with you. I’m here.” At this, he looks even more broken and only nods his head, breath hitching and his sobs ceasing for the moment. You know it’s not enough for him so you guide one of his hands to the pulse on your wrist.

“Count.” And he does, his mind focuses on the beat and it calms him; it reassures him you’re still alive.

When the minute is over, he looks significantly more calm and less likely to cry again. He looks at you like he can’t believe you’re really there and you pull him in again. Physical contact is meant to ground people and you only hope this helps him.

A shrill ring interrupts your thoughts and you know it’s Spencer’s because you’ve heard it many times before from him and Emily both.

He lets go of you to answer it and he tenses immediately as he hears whoever it is on the other line. He says a few things in response and his eyes become glassy again. He hangs up only a few moments later and turns to you.

“My team wants me to help inform Emily’s mother of her death so we can start planning her funeral…” He closes his eyes shut and his fingers clench into his palms. Slowly, you walk up to him and unfold his palms and find red, crescent indents on his palms.

“I can drive you…? I know you took the metro here. Let me help, Spencer.” He just nods and you lead him to the bathroom to help tidy him up. You turn the faucet on and hand him his toothbrush, your fingers lingering on Emily’s red one before grabbing your own. It’s a familiar routine and as you finish, you leave to let him use the restroom and wash up while you rack through your closet to find something he's left over to wear for the day.

You manage to find a striped brown button up and matching brown pants while you put on a simple outfit, a grey long sleeve with jeans and a pair of black vans. You knock on the door and he opens it after a moment and takes his clothes from you. You go back to your room to fix up your hair and after a while you deem it acceptable.

As you’re doing your makeup routine, you hear a knock then, “Are you decent?”

“Come in, I’m almost done.” The door opens and you catch his reflection in your mirror. He looks better but the despair that clings to him is obvious to you.

He lets a small smile fill his face and though it doesn’t reach his eyes, you still match it. “I’m surprised you still had this. I had wondered where this outfit had gone but I remember that when I stayed over that night I had to leave immediately and left it here.”

“Well, I wouldn’t just throw it away and I kept forgetting to give it back to you. It’s a good thing otherwise you’d be left in some sweatpants and a Star Trek t-shirt.” He lets out a small laugh at that and you’re grateful you’re able to get him to genuinely laugh.

“Okay, I’m done. We can head out now.” He follows you out of your apartment and into the passenger seat of your car. The ride is silent to Quantico, unlike the usual rides you give him where you play a new genre for him and for him to compare it to his classical music and talk about some facts of the music.

When you finally arrive, you both sit there. He doesn’t want to leave and face reality and you don’t want to be left alone with only the truth to haunt you.

Spencer breaks the silence once again, “Thank you for everything. I don’t know where I would’ve gone last night… If you can, can you pick me up later? I… I can’t be with the team right now. It’s just too fresh.”

“Of course, Spencer. Just send me a text a bit before and I’ll be there.” He nods and gives you a quick hug before leaving and your eyes follow him until he’s nothing but a pinprick in your vision.

Like a switch flipped, you can only think of Emily. It’s not fair that she… that Emily is gone, that’s she’s dead. You never thought this was a probability. She was always such an impervious figure in your mind, a larger than life kind of person. You knew it was a possibility in her line of work but it never crossed your mind that it could actually happen to her. She was a strong woman, never letting anything affect her and you can’t believe she’s gone.

You shouldn’t even feel this strongly for her, you’re not meant to be more than a friend to her but you can’t help but think of her as your lover. Every little moment you’ve shared with her flashes in your mind. One in particular stands out, one that had happened only a month or two ago.

“Ugh, Emily. We’ve gotta go or else tomorrow morning is gonna be hell for the both of us.” You drag her away from the bar and shoot a smile at the bartender who only shakes her head and mouths “have a nice night”.

“ No ,” she whines, “I don’t want to, babe. We were having so much fun. Let’s stay here and dance some more.” She grins at you, taking your hand and pulling you back into the crowd. You let her because you can never say no to her, not when she’s looking at you with those eyes and that smile.

Her mood is infectious and you let her have this one last dance. It’s not even a song you know but you think it might be your new favorite with the way she twirls you around and looks at you with affection and fondness.

Being with Emily is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, even if this is a temporary thing. You would do anything for her, even leave her alone if that’s what she wanted.

The song ends but the moment doesn’t.

“Okay, okay, Em. We really need to go now.” She pouts at you but relents and follows you out of the club.

Before you reach your car, she pulls you in, her hands cradling your face, and she’s looking at you in wonder, “Y’know I can’t believe you’re actually here. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You mean so much to me. I hope you know that.” She leans in and kisses you. You savor every moment of it, feeling her smile against your lips. Like an imp, she grins widely and leaves multiple pecks around your lips, never quite touching.

It’s just you and her in that moment and she’s never seemed more lovely than in that exact moment.

Deciding that her actions are enough, you grab her by the chin and your free arm wraps around her waist so that she’s flush against you and slam your lips onto her own. Every emotion you’ve felt for her is poured into the kiss and you hope she can feel it. It’s passionate and messy and it leaves you wanting more.

She lets out a small moan when you move your mouth to pepper kisses onto her jaw and to suck on her sweet spot, sighing praises into her skin as if they’ll imprint on her, an irrefutable claim.

You’re not sure how much time passes between that moment but you only stop when you hear multiple wolf whistles and she groans before pulling away from you and yells at the offenders, “Shows’ over, you fucks!” Then she turns to you and leers, “We’ll finish this back at my place.”

You’re only able to nod and look at her in awe, “Emily Prentiss… what a woman you are. I’ll never be able to forget you know?”

She smiles even wider at your admission, and beckons you forward and of course you come closer and she admits quietly, “You won’t ever have the chance to. I plan on never letting you go.”

But all moments have to come to an end.

If only that was the truth because she never brought up the conversation the morning after. Whether she actually remembered it and shoved it aside or she genuinely couldn’t remember, you can’t decide what’s worse. You never mention it because you don’t want to ruin something that already works and now… Now you would never have the chance to find out because Emily was dead.

Tears well up in your eyes and you recognize the signs of an oncoming panic attack. It’s with a wet laugh that you realize that you were right, your dramatic thoughts from the night she texted you had come true.

Emily Prentiss would haunt you forever and you’ll let her if it means you’ll never forget what she sounded like or what each gleam in her eye or each smile meant.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #my writing #holding on

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onetwosevensquad · 3 years

Text

What’s Up Danger

Summary: a new town and a new life for Y/n brings unexpected chaos, besides that of high school, to her life.

Warnings: umm blood, fighting, Xiaojun may be the bad guy but I still love him, this is long as shit

Rose: IM BACK BABY!! This is the first fic I’ve posted since November. So yay welcome back kiddos. Enjoy!

———

Well this was a nightmare.

It was your first day at a new school, and you had no idea where the hell you were going. You’ve found all of your other classes rather quickly. But your sixth period chemistry class seems to continue to elude you. After ten minutes, you finally found the science hall and checked your schedule for the right room. You found it and put your hand on the doorknob, bracing yourself for the embarrassment.

You walked in the room in the middle of the teacher talking, all heads turning towards you. You sucked in a breath, already feeling your hands starting to shake.

“Your late,” the teacher snapped. You mentally rolled your eyes at her attitude.

“Sorry, I’m new,” you said. Your voice wavered a bit and you cleared your throat before continuing. “I couldn’t find the room.”

“Well, that’s fine, just don’t make a habit of it,” the teacher said after clicking her tongue. “You can sit next to Mark over there.”

You looked to where she was pointing and saw a kid with round glasses who was sitting at a desk with no one next to him. He waved slightly to let you know that yes, this is where she meant.

“Yes, ma’am,” You mumbled. You quickly walked to the back of the room and slid into the chair next to Mark. You placed your stuff on the table and leaned back, letting out a breath. The teacher went back to her lecture about how the class was going to work for the year.

“Hi,” you heard from next to you. You turned your head and looked at Mark. He had a sweet smile on his face, his glasses falling down his noes a bit.

“Hi,” you whispered back. Mark fiddled with his pencil a bit, twirling it in his fingers and tapping it against his binder.

“I’m, uh, Mark,” he said. You quietly laughed a bit at the boy’s awkwardness.

“I know,” you said. Mark opened his mouth, it slowly falling into an ‘o’. “I’m Yn.”

“So you’re new?” Mark asked. You nodded your head a bit and smiled. “If you need help, I’d be happy to show you around.”

“I might take you up on that,” you said.

“Cool,” Mark chuckled out. He smiled at you one last time and turned back to the teacher before either of you got caught.

———

The rest of your first week at school went rather smoothly. Mark had helped you find your two other classes and by now you knew where they were. Also, you made a friend, Yeri, who was in your literature class. Things were going great.

Today was Monday, your second week of school. And though it was a Monday, you were rather excited. A few clubs started today, one of them being academic decathlon. You were practically sprinting to lunch to try and talk Yeri into joining with you. You didn’t want to be alone. When you got there you saw Yeri at your usual spot, who motioned you over.

You sped your way over to her, not exactly looking where you were going. When you reached the table, right before your seat, a body slammed into you. You stumbled, almost falling to the ground, but someone caught you. You looked up to see a tall, sharp looking boy, glaring down at you. His grip on your arm was like a vice.

“Watch where you’re going,” He hissed. Everyone around you was silent or talking in hushed voice. Yeri was on her feet, staring at him.

“Let her go, Xiaojun,” Yeri said. Xiaojun, as you now knew him as, kept his hand on your arm, holding it tight.

“What’s your name?” He said.

“Yn,” you said, quietly. Xiaojun smiled at you, but it was more smug than friendly.

“Well you better watch yourself, Yn,” He said. Suddenly a different hand wrapped around your other arm and tugged you back. You looked up to see Mark standing next to you, gently holding your elbow. His grip was comforting and not at all like Xiaojun’s.

“Leave her alone, Jun,” Mark said. You looked at Xiaojun who cracked his jaw and squinted his eyes at Mark. He stepped forward, toe to toe with Mark.

“Don’t try to be a hero, Lee,” Xiaojun growled. He pushed past Mark, bumping Mark’s shoulder. After another moment of whispers, the people watching went back to their usual conversation.

“Hey, you ok?” Mark asked. You looked back at Xiaojun’s retreating form, two other boys having joined him. You then turned your attention back to Mark, his eyes soft.

“Yea, yea,” you said waving your hand around. “Wouldn’t be high school without the ass holes, right?”

“You got that right,” Yeri said from next to you. She had sat down, continuing to eat her lunch.

“Thanks for the save, though,” You said. Mark smiled wide, his round glasses scrunching up of his face.

“Y-yea, of course,” Mark said. “Just keep away from Xiaojun.”

You smiled and nodded one last time. You could see the slightly pink tint on Mark’s cheeks as he quickly turned and went back to his table with his friends.

———

“Do you know how stupid that was?” Jaemin said when Mark came back to the table.

“I had it under control,” Mark said sitting down. Jaemin rolled his eyes and let out a huff.

“That’s not the point,” Jaemin said. “What would have happened if he punched you? If you punched him back, people would wonder why the nerdiest kid has a good right hook.”

“He wouldn’t make that big of a scene here,” Mark said. “Too many people.”

“Still a dumb ass move,” Jaemin said.

“It was kinda bad ass,” Jeno said. “The look on his face when he saw it was you.”

“Why’d you stand up for her anyway?” Haechan said. “You don’t even know her.”

“Yn’s in my chemistry class,” Mark said, turning around. He watched you talk with Yeri, your hands moving wildly. Mark turned back to his friends, a smile on his face. “She’s nice and doesn’t need Xiaojun messing with her.”

“Oooo, Mark has a crush,” Haechan said, wiggling his eyebrows. Mark rolled his eyes but didn’t object as he looked down at his lunch tray. “He’s not denying it!”

“Would you shut up?!” Renjun, who was reading, snapped from next to Haechan. The boy deflated for all of two seconds before repeatedly poking Renjun’s cheek. That got him a smack on the head with a rather thick calculus textbook.

———

Mark slid into the gym, five minutes late, for academic decathlon practice. He saw Renjun on the stage helping Mina set up the buzzers and waved at his friend. Mark then looked for Mr. Kim to apologize for being late and found him talking to you.

“Mr. Lee,” Mr. Kim’s voice boomed in the big empty gymnasium. The teacher had noticed Mark out of the corner of his eye, both you and him turning to look at the boy. “Late again?”

“Sorry, Mrs. Jung wouldn’t stop talking,” Mark said scratching the back of his neck once he reached the two of you. Mr. Kim waved him off and went to split up the teams. Mark then turned his attention to you, who never took his eyes off him. “I didn’t know you were jointing?”

“I didn’t know you were here,” you said, laughing slightly. “Well at least I have you. I couldn’t get Yeri to join with me, something about cheer squad.”

“Well, welcome to the team,” Mark said. He inwardly cringed at himself. Really, Lee? That’s the best you could do?

“Thanks, bud,” you said, punching Mark on the shoulder slightly. You giggled a bit and so did Mark, making him feel better.

“Yn, you’ll be on blue,” Mr. Kim called. “And Mark, since you were late, you’re captain of red.”

Mark hated being captain, and Mr. Kim knew this, so this was as good of punishment as any. Mark sighed and trudged behind you, who happily skipped up to the table and sat next to Renjun, who was blue’s captain.

“You’re one of Mark’s friends right?” You asked the boy.

“Renjun,” he said sticking out his hand. You shook it slightly and introduced yourself. He smiled and you after letting go, you returning it. “Ever do this before?”

“Two years at my old school,” you said, proudly.

“Were you guys any good?” Renjun asked. His voice seemed hopeful, eyes pleading.

“State champs my last year,” you said. Renjun smiled wide and put a hand over his heart.

“Thank god,” he said. “Maybe now we’ll actually make it to champs.”

“Alright first question,” Mr. Kim called. Everyone turned to him, buzzers at the ready.

Needless to say, your team absolutely creamed Mark’s.

———

Mark’s patrol was long and uneventful. Sorry, correction, Spider-Man’s patrol was long and uneventful. No chatter on Jeno’s police scanners, no spidy tingle, nothing. Mark climbed back in his bedroom through his window and slipped off his mask.

He flopped down on his bed and caught his breath for a moment. Swinging through the cold night air of September was not easy on his lungs. He almost fell asleep when the ringing of his phone made him jump off his bed. Mark scrambled to find it, ripping through his bag to pull the device out. He smiled a bit when he saw your name at the top of the screen.

“Hello,” Mark breath out. He held the phone slightly away from his mouth so as to not alert you to his fast breathing, which he failed.

“Hey, it’s Y/n,” you said. “You sound kinda out of breath there, Lee. You good?”

“Yea yea, great,” Mark rushed out. “Just... went for a jog.”

“Didn’t peg you for the athletic type,” you said. “Anyway, I need your help.”

“Everything ok?” Mark asked, slightly panicked at the prospect of you being in trouble. That panic immediately melted when he heard your laugh from the other end of the line.

“Yea, no, everything’s fine,” you said chuckling. “No, what I needed help with is history.”

“History?” Mark asked. As he spoke, he hit the middle of his suit on his chest, the material loosening. He slipped out of the sleeves, switching hands to hold his phone.

“Yea, I noticed at practice today you answered every history question correctly,” you said. “I figured you must be good.”

“My best subject actually,” Mark said, proudly. He heard you giggle as he stepped out of the tight spandex of his suit, leaving him in his boxers.

“Well, I’m shit at history,” you said. “And we have a test next week. Three weeks in and a test already is some bull shit. But I was hoping you could help me study.”

“Yea of course,” Mark said. He had pulled a pair of sweats out of his drawer and was attempting to put them on. He held the phone between his shoulder and ear, trying to get his leg in the hole without falling.

“Great!” You said. “Does tomorrow after school work? I figure since we don’t have practice.”

“Works perfectly,” Mark said, a smile spreading across his face. The city could survive a few hours without Spider-Man, right? “I’ll see you then.”

“Bye,” you said. Mark could here the smile in your voice as you spoke. He took the phone from his ear and looked down at your contact, a dumb smile on his face.

———

3:30. That was the time that you and Mark agreed to meet after school. It was now 3:57 and he still wasn’t here, leaving you in the library alone. Well, mostly alone.

You could hear shuffling behind some of the bookshelves, unable to see who it was. You continued to scroll through your phone and eat your grapes, praying Mark showed up so that you didn’t have to smack him in front of his friends tomorrow.

You noticed that the shuffling had stopped now. Footsteps started coming closer to you and you thought that Mark finally showed. You put on your best disappointed face, knowing it wouldn’t last long with the kind eyed boy.

However, when you looked up, the person in front of you was not Mark. Very much not Mark.

“Y/n right?” Xiaojun said. He had a small smirk on his lips, his hand stuffed deep in his pockets. His face was sharp and handsome, making you shift in your seat from the look he was giving you.

“Xiaojun,” you said quietly. He nodded slightly and pulled his hands out of his pockets. He placed them on the table and leaned towards you.

“You know,” he started. “Whoever stood you up is a moron. A pretty girl like you doesn’t deserve that.”

“Did you want something?” You sneered. You could see Xiaojun lips twitch down for a second at your tone.

“Hey, Y/n!” A voice said. You looked up to see Mark coming towards you, Xiaojun turning as well. “Sorry I’m-“

Mark stopped when he locked eyes with Xiaojun. Mark’s usually soft and kind eyes, turned sharp and dark upon seeing Xiaojun.

“Leave her alone, Xiaojun,” Mark said, his voice low. You’ve never seen him like this and, honestly, it was kinda hot. Not the time, Y/n.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Lee. I was just leaving,” Xiaojun said. He turned back to you and winked before walking towards Mark. When he reached him, Xiaojun put a hand on Mark’s shoulder. He leaned in close to his ear, and whispered so that you couldn’t hear.

“Get in my way again, Lee,” Xiaojun said. “And I’ll squash you... like a bug.”

You saw Mark’s eyes widened at whatever Xiaojun said. Xiaojun patted Mark’s shoulder and walked away, his hands stuffed in his pockets once again.

“What did he say?” You quickly asked when Mark sat across from you.

“N-nothing,” Mark said. He looked up to see a disbelieving look on your face. “Really nothing. Sorry, I’m late, something came up.”

“Whatever, you’re here now,” you said. “Let’s start before it gets too late.”

Mark tried to stay focused during your study session, and he succeeded for the most part. Part of his brain was occupied by the bank robbery he stoped before coming here. Apparently, the city could not survive a few hours without Spider-Man. Another part occupied by what Xiaojun said.

Did he know? How could he know? What now?

———

“What do you mean Xiaojun knows?” Jaemin asked. Mark was currently on patrol, talking to his friends over the coms.

“He said he’d squash me like a bug,” Mark said, landing on top of a building.

“That is a pretty specific threat,” Jeno commented.

“Well you’re not a bug, you’re an arachnid,” Haechan said, his mouth full of chips.

“What?” Mark breathed out.

“Spiders are arachnids,” Haechan said. Mark could practically hear the others rolling their eyes. A loud smack could be heard followed by an even louder ‘OW!’

“If he knows, what does that mean for me?” Mark asked. The other end was silent for longer than Mark would’ve liked.

“Look if he knows, he won’t tell,” Renjun said. “He’ll just sound crazy cause, no offense, you’re you. Besides, this is too good of blackmail to not dangle over you.”

“I just wanna know how he found out,” Jeno said.

“Who knows,” Jaemin said. “That rich son of a bitch probably has eyes everywhere.”

Mark listened to his friends discuss how Xiaojun found out while he perched on the roof of a apartment complex. He looked out over the city for a moment before putting his head in his hands.

If Xiaojun knew, this didn’t only affect Mark. It effected his four best friends, his aunt, and you. The last thing Mark wanted was for you to get involved with Spider-Man.

With one last sigh, Mark stood and shot a web to swing home.

———

“Why are you always late?” You asked Mark. He had just walked into the library for your Thursday night study session. He didn’t even get the chance to sit down before you asked your question.

“Literally five minutes,” he said checking his watch. He pulled out the chair across from you and sat down, taking out his textbook.

“Your still late,” you said, opening your own book. “Trying to avoid hanging out with me?”

“No!” Mark exclaimed. He cleared his throat a bit and scratched his neck. “No, it’s, uh, not that at all. I was late today cause the hallway gets crowded and I’m coming from downstairs.”

“Ok, but that doesn’t explain why you were half an hour late the other day,” you said, pointing your pencil at Mark accusingly. “You made me wait and I had to talk to Xiaojun.”

“Yea, I’m still really sorry about that,” Mark said. “Can I make it up to you?”

“How?” You said, intrigued. You placed your chin in your palm and leaned forward a bit. Behind his eyes, you could see the gears in Mark’s head turning.

“Food!” He said. Mark was a bit too loud, as the librarian made a loud shushing noise at him. He whispered out a small sorry before continuing. “How about after we’re done here, we go get something to eat? My treat.”

“Like a date?” You said. You meant it teasingly but it came out like an actual question. Maybe you were hoping this was a date.

“Yea! No!” Mark said quickly. “I mean if you want.”

“I’ll go on a date with you,” you said. A smile spread across Mark’s lips as he giggled a bit. He cleared his throat and opened his history textbook to begin flipping through the pages.

“C-cool,” Mark said quietly.

———

“Good luck today,” Mark said from next to you. It was now the week of your history test. You and Mark studied all weekend and yesterday, Tuesday.

“Yea, thanks,” you said dryly. You trudged next to Mark who was walking you to your doom. Mark said that you were being over dramatic for calling it that but, were you?

“You’ll do fine,” Mark said. You both stopped a few feet from the door, you giving Mark a look of disbelief. “How about, after practice tonight, we go see that new movie? To get your mind off of things.”

“Alright, but your buying the popcorn,” you said.

“Yes ma’am,” Mark said, giggling. You smiled a bit at his silliness and rolled your eyes. “Now go ace that test!”

You grumbled about how hopeful Mark was as you turned towards the door. You walked over to it and spared Mark one last glance. He shot you a double thumbs up making you roll your eyes again, but nonetheless smile.

———

Standing outside of a movie theater, alone, in the cold was not pleasant. Mark said 5:30. You were there at 5:30. Still waiting at 5:50. And here you were now, at 6:05, no Mark in sight. You’ve tried texting him multiple times, each one going unanswered.

To Marker, 5:30: I’m here :)

To Marker, 5:35: I don’t see you

To Marker, 5:45: Hello??? Mark???

To Marker, 5:45: it’s been 15 minutes my dude

To Marker, 5:57: are you coming???

To Marker, 6:05: ditching me again are we??

Looking down at your phone, you noticed that he hasn’t even read them. You sighed and turned the device off, looking around the parking lot. It didn’t have many cars as it was Wednesday.

You figured by now the previews were coming to an end. And if you jogged, you could reach the next bus home in time. You texted Mark one last time before heading off.

To Marker, 6:07: never mind, I’m going home

———

Mark swung back into his room, panting for dear life. He clutched his shoulder feeling that the bone was probably dislocated. He took a deep breath to brace himself before...

Pop!

The sound of him successfully pushing his shoulder into place gave him a sense of relief. However, the pain didn’t, as he almost yelled out. Mark caught himself, remembering his aunt was right down the hall.

Mark stumbled over to his mirror to inspect the damage done. He took his mask off and looked at the ripped and tattered condition of his suit and himself. His left knee was entirely exposed, revealing a gash spewing blood. Along his right side, was a cut that wasn’t too deep but he would definitely have to stitch that up. His left bicep was also cut a bit.

What was that thing?

Mark had never encountered something like it before. This monster, this alien like thing, looked like the emo version of Spider-Man. Except instead of webs, it spewed this black goo. It called itself Venom, Mark remembered. Mark was snapped back to reality by the dinging of his phone. He turned towards it on the bed and picked it up. At the top, he saw seven texts from you.

“Oh shit,” Mark whispered. He looked at the time at the top of his phone, hoping he wasn’t too late. 6:07. “Shit, shit, shit!”

He unlocked the phone and went to read your texts. Each one was a stab to the heart as he read your confidence melting away. To Mark, ditching you, hurt more than any of his wounds.

To Y/n/n, 6:10: I am so sorry Y/n

To Y/n/n, 6:10: something really important came up

To Y/n/n, 6:11: please I’m really sorry

Mark sighed and continued to stare at the phone, waiting for your reply. After five minutes, he saw the read receipt pop up. But no message followed.

———

The entire next day at school, you tried your best to avoid Mark. You didn’t talk to him whatsoever and didn’t give him any reactions. Complete silent treatment. Admittedly, this was a bit childish. But you were still pissed that he bailed on you last night. This is what he deserved.

You received your grade for your history test that day. A big red ‘90’ was circled at the top of the paper. Once class ended, you were about to run and tell Mark only to remember you were supposed to be pissed at him.

“Please talk to me,” Mark said. You were now in chemistry, today’s class going unbearably slow. “Please I’m sorry. I know you got my messages.”

“And you got mine,” you said, not even sparing a glance. Mark shut his eyes for a moment, feeling stupid. Ok that one hurt, he thought.

Mark gave up after that and didn’t bother you the rest of class. In fact he left you alone the rest of the day. However, you didn’t miss the kicked puppy looks he gave you in the hall.

At the end of the day, Mark went looking for you as he usually walks you home even on days when you don’t have practice. However, he couldn’t seem to find you.

“Hey Yeri,” Mark called. The girl turned towards him from her locker, a scowl appearing on her face once she saw who called her. “Have you seen Y/n?”

“You’re an ass, you know?” Yeri said turning back to her locker.

“Yes, believe me, I am aware. I am the asshole of the millennia,” Mark said. “Just where is she? I usually walk her home.”

“She left already,” Yeri said. She looked at Mark who’s eyes were blown wide. “What, did you think she’d wanna go home with you?”

Without another word, Mark took off. He raced out of the building and onto the front steps. Then he stopped dead in his tracks.

What am I doing?

If you didn’t want to talk to him, he had to accept that. He would still try, but he shouldn’t go chasing you down. Especially not as Spider-Man. That would raise so many more questions than he was ready for.

Mark decided it was best to just get on with his patrol. Maybe he’d run into Venom again and he’d knock some sense into Mark.

———

“Stop!” Mark could here the woman’s yells from a mile away. Her voice sounded oddly familiar, making Mark speed up.

When he got to the alley where the yells were coming from, Mark froze. Currently, you were standing there, a knife to your throat, looking terrified.

This is why I walk you home, Y/n.

“Hey!” Mark called into the alley. Both you and the man’s heads snapped towards the sound.

“Spider-Man?” The man asked. Before he could say anything else, Spider-Man shot a web at him and pulled him forward.

Spider-Man then proceeded to punch the guy square in the nose. He effortlessly picked the creep up by the collar of his shirt and brought him over to the dumpster. Spider-Man threw the guy into the green box and closed the lid, dusting off his hands.

Spider-Man turned and looked at you, his body rigid. You didn’t know wether or not to run. Your legs wouldn’t let you however, so you stayed put and continued to stare at Spider-Man.

“Y/n are you ok?” Spider-Man asked coming over to you. You nodded your head as he held you by the upper arms, inspecting for any damage.

“Yea I’m fi- wait,” you said. You placed your hands on top of Spider-Man’s arms and looked him in the eyes. “How do you know me?”

“I-I don’t!” He said. His voice was suddenly deeper than it was two minutes ago.

“You said my name,” you pointed out. Spider-Man stayed silent for a moment, making strangled noises.

“Lucky guess?” He said. As he said the two words, his voice returned back to normal. It sounded oddly familiar.

You slowly lifted a hand and reached for his mask. Spider-Man was faster and he caught your arm in his hand. He moved it away from his face and looked at your shocked expression.

“Not here,” he said quietly. Suddenly, Spider-Man wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close.

“What are y-“ before you could finish, Spider-Man had shot a web out of the alley, sending you both flying. You let out a scream and clung to Spider-Man for dear life. Even with one arm around you and both of yours around his neck, you still felt safe in Spider-Man’s hold as he swung through the city.

Finally, the rush of wind on your face stopped and you could feel solid ground beneath your feet. You opened your eyes, slowly detaching from Spider-Man, and saw that you were on the roof of a building.

“Alright, who are you, for real?” You said, turning back to Spider-Man.

“Please don’t like, freak out or anything,” He said. You nodded your head, wondering who could possibly be under that mask.

Slowly, he slipped the red mask off of his head and held it in his hands. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked up at you. It was Mark. Your mouth fell open in shock as you took a step forward. Mark stood there, awkwardly bitting his lip, waiting for you to say something.

“Y-you’re Spider-Man?” You said taking another step closer.

“Yea,” Mark said, voice breaking. He cleared his throat, obviously a bit uncomfortable. “It’s why I was late to that fist study session. Also why I bailed on you at the movies. And I’m really sorry that I did.”

“No, I’m sure whatever it was, is way more important than me,” you said, waving him off.

“Nothing’s more important than you, Y/n,” Mark said quickly. His eyes slowly widened as he realized what he just said. Mark sputtered, looking for his words, when he saw you coming closer.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned up. Gently, you kissed his cheek. You pulled back and smiled at the blushing boy.

“Thanks for the save,” you said. Mark nodded as you began to pull away. Quickly, he caught your hands and pulled you closer to him. Mark leaned down and placed his lips on yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you quickly reciprocated the kiss. After a second though, Mark pulled back.

“S-Sorry,” Make said. “I shouldn’t have just done th-“

You grabbed the sides of his face and puled him back down, reconnecting your lips. Mark’s hands settled on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He kissed you soft and slow, bringing one hand up to your cheek. You both pulled apart after a minute to breathe. Mark looked into your eyes seriously for a moment before breaking out into a goofy grin.

“Let me take you out,” Mark said. “Right now.”

“Don’t you have superhero things to do?” You asked. Mark giggled and took your hands in his.

“I think I did enough superhero things for today,” he said.

———

When you walked into school the next day, Friday, you entered hand in hand with Mark. Literally no one was surprised whatsoever. However, that didn’t stop his friends from making fun of you. It probably encouraged them, actually.

“God, finally!” Heachan groaned from next to you. Him, Mark and Jeno were standing at your locker as you got your things. “It took you long enough!”

“What did?” Yeri asked, appearing next to you. She opened her locker and began exchanging her things for classes.

“Mark and Y/n are dating,” Jeno said.

“Wow, shocking,” Yeri deadpanned. You laughed and so did she as you both closed your lockers. You turned towards Mark who wrapped an arm around your shoulder, prompting Haechan to make gagging noises.

“Oh, stop it,” Mark said, slapping his friends shoulder. Everyone laughed as Haechan dramatically mocked being hurt.

———

After Mark dropped you off at home, he told you to be ready by seven for a date. He swung home, a big grin on his face, excited for tonight.

At exactly seven, Mark arrived at your house and rung the door bell. No one answered. He knocked on the door a few times and still no answer. He went around the side of your house and found the window that was yours. He looked around to make sure no one was looking and shot a web up and climbed through.

When he dropped from your window sill, Mark looked around your room in shock. Books and papers strewn everywhere. There was a broken shelf, its contents dumped to the floor. The one thing missing, was you. Mark stood in the center of your room, stunned. A sudden beep echoing through your room broke Mark from his trance.

Mark whipped around your room wildly looking for your phone. He dropped to the floor and found it under your bed. He pulled out the small device, the screen lighting up showing a text message from an unknown number. He unlocked the device, you having put his thumbprint in a while ago. Mark opened the text and felt his stomach drop.

From Unknown, 7:03: come get me

From Unknown, 7:03: address link

Mark clicked the link and it brought him to directions to a wear house. Without a second thought, Mark changed into Spider-Man and jumped out the window. He swung as fast as he could towards the wear house district at the edge of town near the docks. Mark got there and looked down at the phone, following the directions to the exact wear house.

Finally, he found the right one after five minutes of searching. Mark walked around the building and found a window to crawl through. In his haste, he not so gracefully fell through the open window. When he got up, Mark’s eyes immediately fell on you. You were sat in the middle of the room tied to a chair. Your face was covered by your hair, your head having fallen.

“Y/n!” Mark shouted running over to you. He got a few feet from you when a black figure dropped down in front of him. Mark stumbled back as the figure straightened up and whipped towards him.

Venom’s white eyes bore into Mark and he let out a vicious roar. Venom stalked towards Mark who was beginning to retreat. The monster roared again and chased after Mark. Venom caught up and grabbed Mark’s ankle and pulled him to the ground. Mark let out a yell and his back hit the stone floor. Venom jumped back down to Mark’s level and growled.

Mark shot a web up at the ceiling and swung over to Venom. Mark stuck out his feet and kicked Venom’s face as he swung by. Mark then swung back towards Venom and shot a web at him. Mark pulled Venom up and slammed him into the ceiling. He then yanked Venom back down and slammed him on the ground.

Mark landed gracefully on the ground and noticed Venom stopped moving. He seemed to be getting smaller but Mark didn’t care. He needed to make sure you were ok. He slid down in front of you and held you face in his hands. At the corner of your mouth, a bruise was forming. Another bruise formed at the top of your forehead. Other than that, you looked totally fine.

“Y/n, wake up,” Mark said, as he brushed some of your hair out of your face. He took of his mask and put it on the ground next to him. “Come on, Y/n.”

Slowly, you began to open your eyes and saw Mark come into view. A smile spread across his face as you slowly lifted your head.

“Mark,” you croaked. You fully lifted your head, which was throbbing, and looked around. Mark maneuvered himself to the back of the chair and untied you. He helped you stand up and held your hands. He pulled you into a tight hug, kissing the top of your head.

“Oh my god!” You said pulling back. Mark looked at you confused until you pointed behind him. Mark turned around and looked at the floor where you were pointing. Laying face down on the floor was Xiaojun. Butt naked.

“Oh god,” Mark said. Mark quickly put his hand in front of your eyes. “Uh, just keep your eyes closed for a sec.”

Mark moved his hand from your eyes, and when he saw that your eyes were closed, he looked around the wear house for something to cover Xiaojun. He found a tarp and put it over Xiaojun’s lover half.

“Alright, you’re good,” Mark said to you. You opened your eyes and walked over next to him. Looking down at Xiaojun, he looked so pitiful.

“Why is Xiaojun butt naked on the floor?” You asked Mark.

“Uh, he was Venom,” Mark said.

“You mean that gooy black Spider-Man that’s been trying to kill you?” You asked. Mark nodded at you after a moment. He took his phone out of his pocket and dialed the police. He spoke on the phone for five minutes before coming back to you.

“Are you ok?” Mark said, putting his hands on your waist. He looked you in the eyes, his own full of concern.

“Yea I’m fine, just...” You trailed off. You stood on your tip toes and grabbed Mark’s face. You connected your lips, kissing him softly. After a moment you pulled back, both of you wearing matching smiles. “Just glad that you’re here.”

“I’ll always be here, right by your side,” Mark said. He leaned down and captured your lips again in a much more passionate kiss.

“Oh and by the way,” you said after pulling back.

“Hmm?” Mark hummed, slightly swaying you from side to side, a goofy smirk on his lips.

“Thanks for the save.”

144 notes · View notes

eideticmemory · 4 years

Text

FINE LINE 3 | SPENCER REID

Two decades of history and two kids later, you and your ex-husband learn to navigate the world of co-parenting. Part 3! Read Part 2 Here!

If you saw typos, no you didn’t ❤️

Word Count: 3,165.

Warning: Daddy issues, mommy issues, angst, romance, drama, yay!

PART 3: EDEN

Eden Penelope Reid was conceived on the twenty-sixth of September, on a ugly, yellow couch in the BAU briefing room. Not two feet from the roundtable! You didn’t mean for it to happen. The sex . . . or the baby. But they were both the result of a dark, disturbing case, sleep deprivation, a long plane ride back to DC, and an encounter in a dark room after everyone had gone home.

Spencer placed a long and slimy kiss to your lips, almost like he had been holding it from you for days. You stepped back, jolted, and you would’ve fallen backwards had Spencer not had his arms around you.

“What on earth are you doing?” you whispered, your voice still laced with shock and surprise.

“Wha — what do you mean . . . ?” Spencer asked, genuine confusion plastered over that pretty face of his. “I thought that’s why we came in here?”

“Oh, my goodness, I came in here to grab my things and go home, Hugh Hefner, where is your mind?”

“My mind’s on you,” he murmured, nuzzling your body into his, pressing his lips to your cheek. “Always.”

“Hm,” you hummed, your eyes fluttering closed as he gave you a dreamy kiss. “You’ve always had that verbal thing . . . quick mind, soft lips. You could talk your way into anything, Spencer Reid.”

“Yeah?” he mumbled, his lips pressed feverishly to yours. “Anything?”

“Yeah . . . anything.”

Stepping out of the shower and drying off, surrounded by the scent of fresh lavender, you wrapped yourself in a cotton towel. Your outfit was laid across the bed, from the top to the pants to the black flats. It felt a little morbid, as if you were staring at a dress made for a funeral. But, God, let’s face it, you’re just being dramatic.

You tied your hair up, and dropped the towel to your toes, warmth caught under the surface. As you took your shirt between your fingers, your bedroom door swung open with an intense creak, and you jumped out of your skin.

“Ah!” You screamed, hugging the fabric against your body, crouching down to hide any and every inch of your figure. “Spencer!”

“Whoa!” He crowed, immediately backing out of the room. “Sorry!”

“What the hell?” You shouted. You hugged the shirt, pressing it to your chest, your torso, one arm outstretched to cover your legs.

“I’m sorry, [y/n], I thought you were dressed!”

“Yeah, right . . . pervert. What are you doing here? I’m meeting you at the office in an hour.”

“I told you I was dropping by in the morning.”

“So?”

“So . . . here I am.”

“Sorry, I’m just not used to you being somewhere when you say you are, my mistake.”

He shook his head to himself, chin ducked down to avert his eyes, “I came to ask if you’d like a ride this morning? After we drop the kids off?”

“A ride?” You responded, quickly dressing yourself to maneuver an icky, uncomfortable situation. “We’re carpooling to therapy?”

“If you want,” he shrugged. “Thought we could get breakfast, maybe.”

You scoffed, and rolled your eyes as you marched towards the door. Prepared to confront Spencer with a bit of sass and sarcasm, you were taken aback by the sight of him. Early in the morning, hair perfectly curled around his face, and he was dressed in a wrinkle-free, perfectly pressed black suit. Like the ones you used to buy for him, just to see the way he moved in them.

“I think I’ll pass,” you told him. “I told the kids I’d take them to school today, and they’ve already got their hearts set on getting Dunkin’ this morning, so . . .”

“So, I’ll see you at the office,” he nodded, solemnly.

You returned the nod with a gentle motion of your head, and as you turned to walk off, Spencer aligned beside you, ultimately following you through the hall. “You look good,” he said. You didn’t respond, just released a silent exhale while focusing your attention forward. “It’s nice to know that . . . some things are still as nice as I remember.”

You laughed -- head thrown back, mouth open, the sound erupting like a volcano. “It’s not,” you explained, looking him in the eye as you approached the stairs. “It’s better.”

Four weeks after Eden Penelope Reid was conceived, you were in Texas, a small town outside of Austin haunted by a head of murders throughout the area. You can’t remember specifically what the town was called because you were so, fucking, sick. You woke up with a headache, nausea threatening to spill by the second, and a stomach ache that wouldn’t kick it. It was bad.

But you know how to put on a Brave Face. You pushed through, even with your husband’s voice echoing in your ear, close to your ear, his worried hand on your back.

“[y/n],” he pleaded. “You’re sick, just — please.”

“Spencer, I’m fine. I’m up, I’m walking, that’s a good sign. I’m okay.”

You visited a crime scene not fifteen minutes later. It was hot, very hot, suffocatingly hot, and you felt yourself. You felt yourself wobble on your heels. Felt the life just fall out of you, like gravity had sucked it into the Earth. Spencer called your name as your body fell.

“Mom?” E called, the sound of the traffic blending in with her voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, hun,” you glanced at her, balancing your attention between E and the road. “Why?”

“You’ve been hitting your juul more than usual lately,” she explained.

“What?” you gasped. “No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have. You’re driving with it in your hand right now!”

“On average, mom hits the juul 16 times an hour, but she’s just hit it seven times in the last five minutes,” Em added from the backseat.

“There. Statistics to back me up,” E gloated.

“I’m fine!” you laughed. “Really. I’m more than fine.”

“Really? So the sudden nicotine uptake has nothing to do with your super secret meeting with dad this morning?” E asked.

“It is not a super secret meeting, it’s two parents, meeting for a discussion.”

“Right . . . not secret at all.” She nodded.

You sighed, “A secret is an awful thing to keep. You can ask your Aunt Emily about that one, but, you know I’d never keep a secret from you,” you smiled.

“Right,” she nodded, suspicious at your sudden change in tone. “You sure you’re not keeping a secret, mom?”

“Are you profiling me?”

“Okay, enough with the profiling jokes.”

“No. Why? Are you keeping a secret from me?” you piqued. It’s been buried. For almost a week now. E, and the boy, as you call him. For a few days, you just needed solitude, time to process and understand. After that, came the confrontational period, well, as confrontational as you get with Eden. Which means you dropped subtle hints until she just thought you were being weirded than usual. But now, she had reason to be suspicious that you were suspicious, and two suspicious Reid women don’t make a mix.

“No?” She responded, slowly, her eyebrow raising at you. “Why?”

“No?” You paused to take a breath. “Okay.” “What does that mean?” “Nothing.”

“Do you know something I don’t?” E asked, her arms now crossed over her chest. Not good. She’s defensive. E’s never defensive.

“See, that’s just the same as the secret thing we had going earlier,” you joked.

“Ugh,” E groaned.

“What?”

“You always get like this,” she shook her head.

“Like what?” “Like this when dad comes around!”

You stopped the car, the brakes skidding to a halt at the school entrance. “Are you -- E, this isn’t about your dad, this is . . . about that boy. That boy that kissed you at your party. The boy who kissed my sixteen year old daughter on the cheek.” “What?” E snapped, sitting up in her seat.

Em slid out of the car, ran to class.

“I mean,” you rambled. “ I have an eidetic memory, E, I can’t unsee that!”

“See that . . . ?“ she whispered to herself. You could see the wires clicking in your head. Her eyes widened, “You saw that? You saw --” She began to pack up her stuff, scrambling really, grabbing her iced coffee.

“E --” you stuttered. “What are you doing? Hey, hey, talk to me.” “I’m late for school, mom, I’ll text you.”

“E --”

“Bye.” you were cut off by the sound of the car door slamming in your face. If ‘what the fuck?’ could be a facial expression, you were wearing it right now.

You had a concussion when the doctor told you about Eden Penelope Reid. You had fallen on the concrete, and couldn’t really see straight. You felt Spencer though. He was holding your arm and supporting your wobbling body with his since you’d hoped straight out of the hospital bed.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Reid,” The doctor smiled at you.

“Huh? What? Congratulations?” You slurred, tired and confused and looking to your husband.

“Oh, I’m . . . sorry, I thought of you . . .” After exchanging glances with Spencer, she sighed and beared another grin. “You’re . . . pregnant. About five weeks along.”

You fainted. Again.

“Hey,” Spencer greeted you, following your fast footsteps with his eyes.

You rounded the edge of the couch and took a seat beside him, huffing as you plopped down, only to give him a glance of acknowledgement.

“You’re late, I thought you got lost,” he said.

“Nope, just took the scenic route,” you grumbled. “Hi, I’m [y/n],” you directed at the therapist sitting across from you. She wore dark red lipstick and a matching blouse, her nails a deep purple over her slacks. Okay. Cool.

“Olivia Oliphant,” she nodded kindly. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” “Oh, just [y/n], please,” you told her.

“Well, [y/n], Spencer here was just telling me about your kids.”

“Oh?” You looked at Spencer. “He was?”

“Yep, Eden and Emerson, beautiful names. How did you guys pick them?”

When you were approximately five weeks pregnant with Eden Penelope Reid, you felt the most excruciating pain of your life. That’s including two rounds of childbirth, some beatings, a bullet wound. You clamp down on your lower stomach, grasping for air as you collapsed to the floor, in the middle of a crowded police station. Penelope rushed to your side, calling your name, “Oh, my goodness, [y/n], what’s wrong? What’s wrong?” “I don’t --” you whimpered. “Something’s not -- ow! -- something’s not right!” Local PD helped you to your feet, a worried Garcia following behind them. “C--call Spencer!” You pleaded, although the phone was already to her ear.

Spencer had just been shot in the neck.

They didn’t think he was going to make it. They didn’t think he was going to make it. You beat Derek, pounding your fists into his chest for not telling you sooner, broke down in the center of the waiting room.

But he did make it.

He made it, and he was right here. He was right here, and you were right here, and E was at school, mad at you, and it was eating you alive. Did you completely undo your ‘cool mom’ reputation with one meltdown? No, how could you?

“[y/n]?” Dr. Oliphant called.

You zoned back into reality, both Spencer’s and her concerned faces focused in on you.

“Yes,” you cleared your throat. “Well, Eden is named after East of Eden by John Steinback, and . . . Emerson is named after Ralph Waldo Emerson.”

“And,” she began. “Would you say your kids are your main reason for being in therapy?”

“Oh, wow, okay, just jumping into it, got it,” you huffed.

Spencer was still eyeing you, worried and troubled. He knows you. He knows when you’re upset, and stressed, and he couldn’t stop staring at your nails. “Uh . . .” you hummed. “Hm? . . . hm? Would I say that there’s any other reason I’m in therapy for sixty minutes with my ex-husband? No.”

“[y/n].” Spencer spoke, turning his body full to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you shook your head.

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “ I haven’t heard that one before.”

“Yes, yes, yes, you’d ask what’s wrong, and I nothing’ed my way through our marriage and we got divorced. I know.”

“Jesus,” he sighed, exasperated, pressing his palm to his forehead.

An awkward silence floated throughout the room for what felt like hours. You stared at your shoes, and huffed. Lifting your head up to smile at Dr. Oliphant, you said, “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

There was an earthquake in California the day Eden Penelope Reid was born. A magnitude of four. This would not have mattered in the slightest -- due to the fact that you were on the other side of the country -- but Spencer was there. In California, sitting in the dark, surrounded by broken glass when Eden was born.

She came at night, after your water broke at the BAU headquarters. You spent hours of the day stumbling around a hospital room, waiting for Spencer to show. Penelope’s quick with a phone, she knew hours before you finally asked her.

“Penelope?” You whimpered, curled up in the bed with your hand pressed to your back.

“Yes?” She pipped.

“Spencer’s not coming . . .” you turned to her. “Is he?”

“We’ve got to talk.”

You glanced over your shoulder, rolling your eyes, “Spencer, please.”

“[y/n], come on,” he pleaded.

You looked him in the eye, sighing as you leaned back in your seat. You could hear the kids shuffling around upstairs, having just been dropped off by Spencer, who was stern and pressed. It was kind of funny.

“I was in a bad mood,” you told him.

“Bad mood? [y/n], you sat there for forty-five minutes sipping your coffee every time Dr. Oliphant asked you a question so you couldn’t talk with a full mouth.”

“Bad mood . . .” you repeated, this time quieter, softer, to yourself.

Spencer’s expression softened, almost instantly. “[y/n]?” he called. “What happened? You’ve been biting your nails, I know something’s wrong.”

You crumbled. You ran yours hands over your face and sobbed. From that moment Spencer and you saw E with that boy, you’ve been reliving it over and over. Trying to recognize his face, and it wasn’t until just last night that you realized it’s . . . Spencer. This boy looks just like Spencer, and you can’t even figure out how you feel about Spencer, -- who you didn’t meet until you were 23, by the way -- let alone this kid.

So how is E doing? How is she already so comfortable around him? And kissing. Have they kissed before? You don’t want to know. No. You do want to know. It’s all you want. You want the most important girl in your life to talk to you, to confide in you the way she did when she was seven years old. But now she’s sixteen and she won’t even look at you.

“And of course, I found a way to blame it on you,” you paused to breath after a long rant. “Because, well, you’re here, which is still weird to me, but hey,” you shrugged, inhaling a hit from your juul.

Spencer nodded his head understandingly, biting down on his to contain a smile. “Now, that . . . is how you should’ve spoken in therapy this morning.” He laughed.

You chuckled, for the first time all day, and rolled your eyes, “Next time.”

“Next time?” He grinned. After connecting his eyes to yours, and seeing a glimmer of confirmation, he sat up, “Well, okay, cool. Then, next time I’ll tell you that you are the best mother on the planet. Raising the kids the way you did . . . you made Eden who she is. You made that incredible girl, and you shaped her into the slightly . . . stubborn girl she is today. She is her mother’s daughter, she just needs someone to push past the hardhead every once in a while.”

You exhaled, a slow, steady breath.

Spencer.

He stayed until Sunday afternoon. Just like he said he would. A whole day after you wandered into E’s room, full of fresh courage and love. You asked her if she was hungry, and she said no. By the time you left, you had a name. Sullivan.

“Sullivan?” You repeated. “Does he go by Sully?” You cackled.

“When he was six!” She shouted, a fit of giggles dribbling from her lips. “He goes by Van now.” “Oh, my goodness,” you feigned as though you were collapsing on the bed. “Van?”

“Yes! Hey, don’t judge! You married a guy named Spencer.”

“[y/n]! [y/n]? [y/n] --” Spencer’s voice lowered to immediately silence the moment he stepped into the room. Under the hospital lights, you laid on a bed, a tiny baby in your arms and a soft smile on your face.

“Don’t be shy now,” you giggled. “Come in.”

He stepped into the room, slowly, his breath shaky from running down the halls. “I--is, is this her?”

“No, I misplaced the actual baby, so they gave me a very life-like doll,” you smirked.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, placing a million and one kisses to your forehead. “You’re incredible, you did -- incredible,” he held you close, looking down at the infant against your chest. “So, what’s her name? You did remember to pick one, didn’t you?”

“Yep, UnSub --”

“[y/n] . . .” he smiled.

You laughed, holding your child up to her father. “This . . . is Eden Penelope Reid.”

Spencer didn’t come out of his room for hours before he was set to leave on Sunday. As worried as you were, you kept to entertaining the kids in the living room. The two of them were snacking on some popcorn, watching a movie on netflix. Em was tucked underneath your arm, and you did your very, very best to focus in on the TV. But the moment you heard the hinge of his bedroom door, you sat up in your seat.

He came down the steps in a stomping rage. Didn’t even come in to join you all, just called for you, “[y/n] . . . [y/n], can you come here, please?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, and stood to your feet, nervously eyeing the kids. “Be right back,” you told them, before walking out into the foyet.

“Okay . . .” Spencer said, just above a quiet whisper. “Okay, okay . . .” He was trying to calm himself down. Pacing, muttering, hands on his hips.

“Spencer?” You walked up to him. “Hey, what’s the matter? Hey . . .”

“I’ve had . . . some time to process, some time to fully understand the information, but I know that you, haven’t, so I’m going to get to it . . . Catherine Adams is being injected tomorrow.”

Crickets. Silence. No sobs, no boo-hoos, nothing. “And?” You replied. “Are we throwing a party? Because that can be arranged.”

“And in exchange for her cooperation in multiple homicide investigations . . .” Spencer sighed, his head ducked down, hands in his pockets. “She gets a final request.”

You scoffed, rolled your eyes, “What does she want now? A night with you at the Ritz? Just give it to her at this point so she’ll kick the bucket.”

“She wants to see Eden.”

“Wha --” The sound slipped out before you could catch it. Thoughts. Thoughts. Thoughts. So many. And all you could say was, “No. Absolutely-fucking-not . . . fuck!”

“[y/n] --”

“The psycho who had my daughter kidnapped wants to . . . meet her? She can go straight to hell, and suffer on the way there.”

And that was the moment, Eden Penelope Reid stepped into the doorway, her hands stern at her side, her face brazen with courage and strength, “I want to do it.”

#mine #fl #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid/reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine

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charming-2d-boys · 4 years

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so i'm feeling this very strong urge to care for gon and killua (esp killua IDK WHY but ugh) and it's 3am, i'm sitting here, freaking out about how adorable they look in their little suits😭 i wanna do that embarrassing mom thing ya know, where you fix their bowtie and pinch their cheeks ajdhsjfhsk~ could you maybe write a little something about how they would react if the older sibling type reader did that❤❤❤ (yay on 200! you're doing awesome!!!!!)

Awwwwwww, this is so cute! 😍

And yes, I know, they're so cute and I just want to take care of them and hug them every day 😭💕

And thank you very much! 🙇

I hope you'll like this! 😄

Cuteness & elegance - Killua & Gon x Older Sister-like!Reader

It was going to be an interesting night for you and the boys. You had all been invited to a symphonic concert by one of your friends who was on the orchestra and you wanted to take them with you. Yes, you were given a few extra tickets and decided to invite Gon, Killua and Kurapika and Leorio, but, unfortunately, the latter two couldn’t come because of their job and studies. So it was only the three of you.

Now, you weren’t really that into these events where you had to dress up like this, but it was a nice change of scenery. You hoped the boys would like it too. As soon as you got your purse and checked yourself in the mirror one last time, you left and locked the door before taking a taxi to the venue. You’d already agreed to meet the boys there and it seemed as if you’d get there just a little bit earlier than the start of the concert.

The entrance was illuminated and had an inviting red carpet, while huge vases full of roses lined it on each side. There was a light drizzle and the weather was chilly, making goosebumps erupt on the surface of your skin. When you got out of the car and presented your ticket at the entrance, you were greeted by the warm air inside and the smell of expensive perfumes. Ah, another reason why you weren’t really fond of these events.

“(Y/N)-nee-chan! Over here!” You heard a loud, childish voice scream and looked to your right, seeing Gon waving wildly, with Killua eating some sweets from a little plate as he snapped his gaze towards you at his best friend’s scream. The he was waving too, with his cheeks stuffed and looking like a chipmunk. You could only laugh before walking towards them.

Gon hugged you tightly as soon as you were within reach and you hugged him back, before he pulled on Killua’s hand and dragged him into your arms as well. Killua wanted to grumble something, but his full cheeks stopped him and he only sighed before hugging you back. When you let go, Gon was beaming at you while Killua was gulping down the sweets.

“Hey, boys! Hope I’m not too late.”

“Nope. There’s still time.” Killua answered, grabbing a glass of juice from one of the waiters before drinking from it.

“Oh, Killua, your face is dirty. Wait, don’t wipe it with your sleeve!” You pulled out a tissue before wiping his cheek and the corners of his mouth clean, the proximity and childish way you made him feel like making him blush. “There, all better. And stop pouting, you are too cute already. My heart can’t take any more!” You whined dramatically as Killua only blushed more and looked to the side. Next, you looked at Gon, who was laughing at Killua’s “misfortune”.

“Now it’s your turn. Your bow tie is crooked from just throwing yourself at me like that. You’re lucky you’re cute, mister.” You lightly told him, smiling at him before bending to his level and fixing the bow tie around his neck. You pinched his cheek when he thanked you and smiled brightly.

“Ready, boys? I hope you won’t fall asleep too soon.”

“We won’t, we promise!” Gon said, proudly.

It was a lie. After 20 minutes, Gon was lightly snoring and Killua was slowly dozing off as his head fell on Gon’s shoulder in the end. You shook your head with a smile and kept watching the concert, occasionally glancing at the boys to make sure they were okay. You guessed you could wake them up at the end of the performance and maybe treat them to something to eat. After all, you knew that they’d probably get bored. Oh well. They were too cute, so you’d forgive them this time. Again.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x reader #gon #gon freecss #gon x reader #gon freecss x reader #killua #killua zoldyck #killua x reader #killua zoldyck x reader #hxh gon #hxh killua #hxh writing

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

Text

Showers and Cuddles and Blood, Oh My! | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies! Coming at you with another Mikaelson boys sharing fic because the last one seemed to go over well! I'll probably continue on that route if the response stays the same. I mean, heck, if I can have all three I'll take all three so why not! Hope y'all enjoy! Stay tuned for more, I have some juicy stuff in the works ;) Much love <3

Description: Elijah and Klaus leave Y/n with Kol for the weekend while they're out hunting enemies, all is well until they return, scared and hurt. Y/n works her magic Y/n powers and makes it all better. Happy ending yay!

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, leaned in Klaus' favor

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! Angst-y, mentions of blood and battle, Smut (not full, just foreplay things)

Word count: 3909

Tags: FLUFF, angst-ish, smut

(Photos not mine but the mood board is :) )

“Kol, pass the popcorn,” you yell at him from across the living room without dragging your eyes from the television screen, not willing to miss a second of The Bachelor just because he’s hogging the snacks.

He’s had the bowl in his lap for the vast majority of the show, slowly munching away on the goodies you had made. If he was on the couch with you there wouldn't be a problem, you could just scoot over and you wouldn’t have to look away, but he’s on an armchair across the room. To be fair, you had made him sit there. You didn’t want him to distract you. Kol’s attention span is worse than a kindergarteners and when he gets bored he gets touchy. Literally. One caress from Kol would pull all your attention, a risk you were not willing to take.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face but you remain strong, “why don’t you come get it, huh princess? Isn’t it lonely over there?”

He’s bored and trying to make you cave. His words hit hard in the pit of your stomach and your thighs clench. Your cheeks flame but you refuse to pull your eyes from the scuba date this bachelor has taken his date on. You can’t remember her name. She’s blonde and tall, but so are all the others girls on the show. You’re only a couple episodes in so you’re yet to really lock down the details. To be honest, you don’t ever really remember the names until the last couple episodes.

You can hear him start crunching again and you swear you see red for a second, “Kol, damnit, give me the popcorn. Now!”

All he does is laugh, pushing you over the edge. One second you're on the couch and the next you’re across the room, ripping the bowl from his loose grip. You don’t eat it, though, you just resist the urge to throw it across the room before setting it on the coffee table. His face is smug as you stand in front of him, simmering with something hot. It’s not rage though and that pisses you off. He won and he knows it.

He leans forward, pulling you by your hips towards him, a sultry smirk on his face, “come here.”

He scoops you onto his lap, pulling your mouth to his and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You sigh into his mouth, your legs dangling over the edge of the chair. Your hands find his hair and tug gently at the roots. You can feel him smile against your lips.

“It’s impossible to watch anything with you in the same room,” you mumble as his lips trace your neck, stifling a traitorous moan, “this is the third time I've attempted this episode.”

“I’m sorry,” no he’s not, “I just missed you.”

How he could miss you even slightly right now you have no idea. Elijah and Klaus have been gone for a few days, off hunting an enemy they refused to tell you about, leaving you to the youngest Miakelson’s wills for the entire weekend. To say you’ve left his sight for even a few minutes would be lying. Not that you didn’t soak up every second of time with him. It’s not everyday you get to be alone with one of them without feeling bad about ignoring the others. It’s a tricky situation.

His hands grip the edge of your tee, ready to pull it off, “you’ve had me to yourself for three days. An hour without touching me will not kill you, Kol.”

Even as you say it you cant help but attach you lips to his neck, leaving a few small kisses before sucking harshly at the base of his throat. His hand grips your hip and you know that if you were still a human it would have left bruises. The other wraps in your hair, pushing you against him a little bit harder.

“Ah, fuck, yes it will, princess.”

He starts lifting your shirt when the front door opens. Heavy footsteps land in the front hall and the smell of mud and something sharp hits your nose. You pull back from Kol slightly and he doesn’t protest, just as intent on listening.

“I, fuck,” you hear Klaus hiss from the near the door, causing your heartbeat to spike, “I’m not healing as fast as I should be.”

As fast as it had spiked, your heart stops, “it’s the wolfsbane, she knew it would slow the process.”

You look into Kol’s eyes, your blood running cold, a feeling you had forgotten existed. As soon as he nods you’re flying out of the den and into the front hall where you stop dead in your tracks. There you find Elijah. At least, you think it’s Elijah. It’s hard to tell who it is by the sheer amount of mud caked onto their body. Head to toe, mingled with something bright red. You already know what it is. Wherever there isn't mud on his body there’s blood, still wet in some places. You can smell the metallic tinge in the air and your heart breaks.

What’s worse is his face. His eyes look shattered. Like all the life has been drained from them. Your chest squeezes painfully at the sight. Your Elijah, your rock, ready to crumble. His hands shake at his sides. He just stands there, looking at you like you’re about to disappear. Klaus is no where to be seen.

“Y/n,” Elijah falls to his knees, the thud echoing through the silent house, “baby.”

His voice is small and, if it’s even possible, scared. In less than a second you’re in front of him, hugging him impossibly tight to your stomach. His arms wrap around your waist as he clings to you desperately. He’s trembling in your arms. You feel like someone’s hand is wrapped around your heart, crushing it. You move to sit down, pulling him against your chest.

“Eli, what happened honey?” Your hands bury themselves in his hair and you wish for his sake that it was under the same circumstances as it was with Kol.

“There were too many, Y/n, they must have had close to a hundred men,” he pulls you onto his knees, burying his face in your neck, “they weakened us before they attacked. I don’t know how. Magic, maybe. Sealed off the land so we couldn’t get out. They just kept coming, I’ve never seen anything like it. Even after their hearts were out they kept coming.”

For a man who has seen the very worst that war has had to offer, he speaks like he can’t comprehend the battle he was in. Like all the wars before this one, even combined, were nothing compared to what he just witnessed. His words make you cry for him. They make you angry like you’ve never been before. You clutch him tighter to you, placing a kiss to his matted hair. His relieved sigh brings some comfort but not enough to make this all better.

“I was so scared, baby,” he chokes on his words, his voice dripping with cold relief, “I thought I was never going to see you again.”

You sob at his words, burying your face against his head. Somehow, beneath all the mud and blood, there's still a hint of Elijah. This faint pine scent that makes you crumble against him and hold on for dear life.

“They did something to Klaus,” your heart drops further in your stomach, “they injected him with something. I think it was wolfsbane but I don’t think that’s all. He’s not healing as fast as he normally does.”

You gasp at his words, “Elijah?”

He shifts, pulling back slightly. There are tracks on his cheeks, glimpses of skin, where he had been crying. You reach to wipe some of the dirt from his face, letting your own tears flow freely. He turns his head into your hand, closing his eyes for a moment and kissing your palm. For the first time since he got home you see him smile slightly.

“He needs you, baby,” always the noble one, your Elijah.

You look at him, reluctant to leave him like this, “Elijah I-”

His warm lips cut you off. You revel in his taste. It hasn’t changed and for that you’re eternally grateful. He kisses you slowly, his hands cradling your face carefully. You savour every second his lips are on yours, memorizing every line and curve. You could stay in this moment for a life time.

But Klaus needs you, too.

“Go, I'll see you soon,” he places one last kiss to your lips, smirking slightly, “besides, I really need a shower.”

You run your hand over his hair one last time, pulling out of his hold and making your way up the stairs to Klaus’ room. Any of the relief you had felt from Elijah disappears as fast as it had come. There are muddy boot prints leading to his door, his jacket, sopping and caked in grime, dropped on the floor. His flannel, less caked in mud and more so in blood, piled a few feet away from the jacket. It brings tears to your eyes once more. The part that makes your heart stop, though, is the scent. You can smell the blood before you're even halfway down the hall, hot and tangy.

A sharp bang sounds from inside his room, followed by a pained groan. You knock lightly on the door, unsure of whether or not to just walk in.

“Go away, Elijah,” he sounds angry but his voice lacks it’s usual passion.

“It’s not Elijah. It’s me, Klaus, it’s Y/n,” your voice is quiet but you know he can hear you.

He pauses for a moment and your chest constricts, wanting nothing but to hold him and make it all better.

Then you hear it, he’s crying, “Y/n?”

As soon as he says your name, sobs your name, you’re through the door. At the sight of him, as it was with Elijah, the wind is knocked from your lungs. He’s on his knees, a ghostly parallel to his brother, but he’s bleeding. He is coated in blood from head to toe. His arms got the worst of it, soaked to his elbows like a pair of crimson gloves. There are slices all the way down his torso, deep ones. His head rests on his hands, his shoulders shaking furiously from the cries wracking his body. Klaus has never been small but right now, curled on his bedroom floor, he looks undeniably smaller.

“Oh, baby,” your voice is a hoarse whisper and he looks up at you with tortured eyes, his mouth falling open.

You run to him, falling to your knees before him, letting him pull you against his chest. His skin is hot, working in overdrive to heal the cuts. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin softly. Your arms wrap around his chest, trying to avoid his wounds but it’s impossible. They’re everywhere.

He clutches you tightly, his body shaking uncontrollably, “it was mother, she turned these hybrids into something else. Dark magic or something. They were dead but they kept coming.”

When he pulls away slightly to glimpse at your eyes, your breath catches in your throat. Up close you see them, bites. All over his arms and chest. Huge hunks of skin torn from parts of his body. Thankfully, they appear to be healing but not nearly fast enough for your liking. Your eyes well up again and you let the tears drop with his. He’s terrified. Your soldier is painfully afraid and it breaks your heart for the millionth time today.

“Klaus, what can I do, you need to tell me what to do sweetheart,” your hands cup his face, trying to wipe the droplets but they keep coming.

He sighs into your touch, his shoulders relaxing slightly, “just stay with me for a little while. Please, love? Don’t leave.”

Your heart aches for him thinking he even needs to ask, “of course I won’t. I’m not going anywhere. It’s just you and me, darling.”

He nods, standing on shakey legs. You follow suit, letting him pull you into a proper hug. Now that he’s on two legs, he towers over you, his face pushed into your hair, breathing deeply. After what feels like hours, he stops shaking. You just stand there, your arms tied around his waist, rubbing circles on his back. He still feels strong under your touch. He’s still your Klaus. Just a little bit worse from the wear.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You run your hand over his face before grabbing his hand and pulling him with you to his attached bathroom. He follows without protest, moving his hands to your hips as you lead him towards the glassed in shower. You let him go for just a second while you start the shower which elicits a groan of protest. You turn the dial to a gloriously warm stream before going back to the muddy blonde. Your muddy blonde.

You reach up, drawing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. He dips into your touch, pulling away to lean his head on your shoulder. You reach for the button of his jeans, popping it open with both hands. He places a soft kiss to your shoulder, just as you had earlier. You’re pushing him to keep touching you. It will ground him. You tug the zipper down before stepping away.

You give him a millimeter smile and revel in the way that, despite everything he’s been through, his eyes still dance over your figure when you pull the tee over your head. Your chest swells in pride that you can make him forget some of the pain and let it give way to love. You step out of your leggings next, letting them pool at your feet. His eyes roam every dip and curve of your body, igniting some of the fire that has been missing.

Standing in front of him, you’re left in nothing but your black bra and matching panties. He pushes his own jeans down his legs, leaving them as he walks back to you, twirling you so your back is to his chest. It’s working. His hands on your back make you shiver. His fingers trace your spine lightly, trailing up until they stop at your bra clasp. His lips land on the back of your neck, pushing your hair to the side as he nips lightly at the skin. His fingers skillfully undo your bra, pushing the straps down your arms until it falls, joining the growing pile of clothes at your feet.

His arms circle around you, pulling you flush against his hot chest, “so beautiful, love.”

You release the breath that you didn’t know you were holding at the sound of his voice. He sounds better, a little more Klaus like. A little more in control. His hands are flat on your stomach, dragging down you abdomen. His thumbs hook in your panties as he pulls them down your legs. They, too, join the pile at your feet. He grips your hips with strong hands, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, pulling your skin back into his mouth and biting down harder with blunt teeth.

You spin in his arms, drawing his face down to yours once more, “Come on, darling, water’s getting cold.

You press a quick kiss to his parted lips before scampering into the shower, a cheeky grin plastered on your face. He wastes no time in pushing the boxers down his legs and joining you under the warm water. He hisses quietly when the water hits the bites, closing his eyes. You pull him into your arms for a moment, allowing him to adjust to the pain. You can’t imagine what he’s going through right now.

When he opens his eyes again, you grab a washcloth that’s hanging idily to the side and a half empty bottle of soap. The label says ocean breeze and you can’t help but giggle. You lather the soap, which, for the record, actually smells pretty good, over the cloth before bringing one of his arms to your chest. That’s where you start, rubbing the material gently over his stained fingers, watching the stream of water pool deep red at your feet before swirling down the drain.

When you finish with his first arm, you move to the next. Over his bicep, down his forearm, caressing his wrist and palm like you had the other. He sighs when you place a kiss to his knuckles, gently putting his arm back by his side. Somewhere between his left arm and his right he had let his head fall back against the shower wall. Your heart soars to see him finally start to relax.

You move next to his chest, beginning at his collar bone. You run the cloth over the nastiest bite, one of the only ones still left healing. Klaus grips your waist when you do, clenching his jaw tightly.

“I know hun,” you coo to him, kissing his tensed face, “I need to do it, though. It’s almost over.”

He doesn’t answer, not verbally at least. He just wraps his arm around your shoulder, placing a kiss to the side of your head and letting you continue. You do your best to rub the dirt away quickly before leaving it be. You move down his chest, over his defined muscles, swirling the cloth over his skin lightly, drawing some quiet groans from his lips. They aren’t pained this time, however. They're something else. More familiar. Hotter.

You run the cloth down his toned stomach, savouring every crevice and dip, drowning in the praises that are flowing louder from his mouth. Heat grows rapidly in the pit of your stomach and before you know it you’re holding back your own sounds. Your head falls against his chest, his hand wrapped in your sopping hair, as you pass his belly button.

“Fuck,” he yanks your head up, crushing his mouth against yours deliciously.

The cloth falls from your hands, replaced with his shoulders which your grip furiously when he flips you around, pushing your back against the tiled wall. His mouth moves to your neck, sucking harshly and drawing the first moan from your lips. His fingers draw down your shoulders, tracing the curve of your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your nipples, pulling a gasp from your mouth.

“Klaus,” you’re panting and he’s hardly touched you, “this is supposed to be about you.”

“Trust me, love, it is,” he says before placing his mouth over one of your breasts.

Your hand flies to hair, holding his head against you, the other clutching desperately at the shower wall behind you. His hands find your hips, holding you against the wall beautifully. He bites down lightly on your nipple before running his tongue over it soothingly. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, everywhere he touches you white hot. His blue eyes find yours through the water streaming around you, shining brilliantly for the first time since you found him.

His hand dips down, trailing fire down your stomach, until his fingers swipe over your clit once, then it’s lightening. His eyes are on you, watching every little movement you make. He does it again, drawing closer to your core, his thumb circling your most sensitive part. He stands up fully again, his lips finding your ear, tugging it between his teeth.

“God, Klaus,” you’re a mess at his touch, “please.”

He smirks at you, pausing his actions, his voice a husky whisper against your skin, “what should I do, love? Tell me. Shall I take my time or finish this now?”

He’s back. This is the Klaus that you’re used to. Fully self-aware and dominant. Strong. Above all though, he’s undeniably yours and yours alone.

“I- Klaus,” you tug his hair, pulling to try and regain a semblance of control, “I need you.”

He kisses your earlobe once more, his voice low and sultry, “as you wish, darling.”

* * * * *

What feels like hours later you emerge from the shower, dripping and sensitive but beyond happy, a pleased Klaus trailing close behind you. His hands refuse to leave your body as you lead him into his bedroom. There he opens his dresser, pulling out a black t-shirt that will most definitely swallow you and a pair of boxers and handing them to you before choosing a pair of grey sweatpants for himself. You pull his shirt over your still wet hair, revelling in his scent. You follow it with his boxers, fully embraced in all things Klaus.

“Now that is a sight that will never get old, love,” Klaus’ breath tickles the back of your neck as his arms wrap around you.

You lean into his touch, playing back the memories of his body tangled with yours under the shower once more.

“Back at you, Sweetheart,” and you mean it, he looks positively eddible in those sweatpants.

He growls lowly, sending another incessant wave of heat through your body, “love we need to leave this room before Elijah tears the door of it’s hinges. I’ve been listening to him and Kol pace for the better half of two hours.”

“Kol,” you say loud enough for him hear from anywhere in the house, which isn't very loud honestly, “can wait. He has had three days. He needs to learn to share.”

You swear you can hear him pouting from the kitchen as Klaus chuckles softly. Footsteps echo up the stairs, stopping right outside the door. You smile up at the blue-eyed blonde in your arms, knowing exactly who it is. He kisses your forehead, mouthing that he’ll meet you soon.

You open the door to face a tired but grinning Elijah, “Kol can wait but I'm just about done, baby.”

You can’t help but admire him, standing in the doorway in a simple hoodie and shorts. This is the side of him that only you get.

“Well, sir, how can I argue with that?”

“Uh huh,” he shakes his head at you, pulling you into his arms, making you erupt with giggles when he walks away, leading you back to the den where this all began.

You wave to Klaus, who winks back at you, mirth laced deep in his irises. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes, finally at peace.

The night ends with the four of you cuddled on the largest couch in the den. Your back is against Elijah’s chest, his arms circled tight around you, not letting you go for anything. Klaus’ head is in your lap, his legs sprawled behind him on the remaining length of the couch. One of your hands is laced through his hair. His are clutching your legs. He’s fast asleep. Kol sits on the floor, your other hand resting around his shoulder, pulling him to lean back against your side. There's a fresh bowl of popcorn on his lap. He still isn’t sharing any of it. The television screen shows the image of a man and a woman scuba diving together. You couldn’t be happier to finally relax with all three of your Mikaelson men.

#elijah mikaelson x reader #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #elijah mikaelson #to #klaus mikaelson #kol mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson smut #tvd imagine #reader insert

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spookypotato · 3 years

Text

My second 1DxC2C is here, yay!

Thank you to @asnowpuff, @peggyrose19 and @ninak803 for motivating me💕

The song I used is happily by One Direction.

The ship I used is O'knutzy by the wonderful @lumosinlove! Thank you for the boys.

Happily

You don't understand, you don't understand

What you do to me when you hold his hand

Everything was too much. It was loud and the lights were coming from everywhere, flashing in all the colours of the rainbow. But Logan's eyes were fixed on one thing and his mind shut out everything else.

There he was, his best friend, Finn O'Hara, shamelessly flirting with some girl he just met. Some random girl in black skinny jeans and a loose fitting t-shirt with some kind of quote. Probably something like "But first coffee." Or "C'est la vie.". Just some quote that's good the first time and then it's everywhere.

Just like her hands. She was touching Finn. All the time. Whenever he said anything, she reached over to him. Couldn't keep her damn hands on her side for one second.

They laughed, together. Finn probably said something funny. He was always the one cheering Logan up on a bad day. Why he told it to her, was another question.

Finn was probably just being polite, now that Logan thought about it. He knew his best friend. There was no way he actually like her. But Finn was always too kind for his own good. He was probably uncomfortable. Maybe he should go over there and save his friend. That would probably be for the best.

Then he saw Finn reaching out. Taking her drink. Holding her hand, around her drink. And not moving away. Off course, Finn, always the gentleman would bring her a new drink, as hers was empty, but holding hands?! That wasn't necessary to be friendly. Finn's hand still lingered on the smaller one around the cup. Maybe he was cheering her up? Maybe he saw, she was all alone, all evening and he just wanted her to feel better, by pretending to be interested.

Or maybe, he actually liked her.

We were meant to be but a twist of fate

Made it so you had to walk away

Off course, that was how it had to go. Finn had been gone for months. Logan was still about to cry, every time he passed his old room.

He could see the new posters, of their new teammate. Brody. Yes, he was friendly and put away the stuff he used. He was an almost perfect roommate. The problem was, he wasnt Finn.

He didnt have those red curls, that got all messed up in the morning and when he got drunk. Like they had been the night of their first - yeah. He didnt have freckles, that built star constellations in themselves. That were supposed to be traced and kissed and -.

No, that boy Logan longed for wasnt there with him anymore. No more distractions, no more pretending, no more hiding his feelings.

No more lingering glances, no more soft brown eyes, no more electric touches.

No more Finn.

'Cause we're on fire

We are on fire

But now he was with him again. Talking, joking, playing. They were on the same line. Off course, they were. Logan knew every detail about each one of Finn's plays. Finn knew every little suspicion and comfort Logan had. They knew each other better than they knew themselves. They just- worked together.

They didnt count their own goals. They scored together. Passing the puck multiple times until one of them had the best chance of scoring. They achieved multiple hat-tricks together, one from Finn and two from Logan. And even if Finn scored three, it was theirs. Because Logan helped. Logan was like his second self.

Logan was his other half.

I don't care what people say when we're together

"I want you, Lo'! I know you do, too. Admit it to yourself. You owe it to youself.", Finn shot at him and then added not much above a whisper, "You owe it to me."

"We can't, Finn. You know we can't. You dont want to risk it. You couldnt live with the whole crowd chanting slurs at you, everytime they see you. I couldnt live with them shouting at you.", Logan cried, tears forming in his eyes and threatening to fall.

"I don't care what theyll say!", Finn shouted. He couldnt hold it back anymore. He had enough of hiding. He wasnt wrong for wanting what he wanted.

You know I wanna be the one to hold you when you sleep

He remembered the morning he left for Gryffindor.

Finn woke up, blinking slowly until his eyes adjusted to the light, from the morning sun. It tickled his feet and hands and neck and shoulder- and that wasnt the sun.

Next to him, Finn had completely forgotten in his half asleep state, was Logan. His head on Finns shoulder, eyelashes on his neck. Tickling him.

Their legs were tangled and Finns hand was on Logans back. He could feel his heartbeat. It sounded a lot slower than Finns now quick one. Logans back was warm. Logan was warm. Finn could feel each place they were touching, like it was burning his skin. It was a good pain for the moment.

For the first time, all the excitement about being able to play for the lions- world famous gryffindor lions, his dream- vanished, rigt now, he just wanted to stay. Stay curled up around, this beautiful boy, lying next to him. He would give up his spot on the team, if there was anyway that would make them work out.

But there wasnt. Logan wasnt talking about things that happend, so why would he talk about things that could?

So Finn just burried his nose in Logans hair for the time being and hoped his feelings would fade. Tomorrow. Not today. He would let himself enjoy the closeness for now. He wouldn't ever get this chance again.

It's four a.m. and I know that you're with him

I wonder if he knows that I touched your skin

And if he feels my traces in your hair

Sorry, love, but I don't really care

Logan was staring at the ceiling. Or the floor?

He was lying on his bed, in Dumos basement. They had just won the badgers game. Yet, he didnt feel like celebrating.

He had left right after dinner, which was as perfect as always. Logan hadnt said more than what had been necessary and he had felt celeste worried glances, but she hadnt questioned it. He was glad about it.

The problem wasnt the win. Or how he played or that someone got hurt. No. I was the moment after the timer had ran out. He had been skating over to Finn, like he always did, bumping the helmets together and celebrating their win.

The problem were blond curls on Finns shoulder, as Leo had come up behind the red head and had hugged him. His hand was on Finns chest. Probably feeling his heartbeat. Finn warm all along his back, not only with adrenaline, but the pressure of another body close to him.

The problem was that, Logan wanted to rip Leo's hand away from Finns heart. Wanted to push him away and take his place, feeling Finns warmth in his arms.

The bigger problem was though, that he also wanted to push away Finn and take his place. Feeling Leo's arms surround him and his head a gentle weight on his shoulder.

And then there was that small part that didnt mind. That small part that wanted them to stay exactly how they were. Leo wrapped around Finn, smiling at him and looking all in all just happy. Holding his hand over Finns heart, a place Logan had had his own hand, thinking about if Finn felt the connection. If Leo felt the connection.

Logan hoped they did.

I just want it to be you and I forever

I know you wanna leave

So c'mon baby be with me

So happily

#harry potter #lumosinlove #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #coast to coast #leo knut #jealous logan #jealous #pining #happily #lyric fic #1d x c2c #one direction x coast to coast #one direction #written by meee #short #fanfic short #oknutzy #o'knutzy

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zackcollins · 3 years

Text

i do (cherish you) || nolan patrick

masterlist

Author’s Note: Surprise, bitches! I’m back with another Player/Reader fic! It’s been a hot minute since I’ve had the inspiration to write one, so I’m really happy that I’ve finally been able to write one. Sorry for being gone for so long in terms of my writing. I still have one request that I need to get to, and, to the person that sent it, I’ll start working on that soon, I promise!! I’m just trying to find the right way to go about writing it. I have all the time in the world to think about it now because my province went back into complete lockdown as of this morning. So, uh... yeah. Expect another fic within maybe a week. GIF credit to intermissionpenguins!!

Warnings: I don’t even know if this is considered warnable but: the reader uses an insulin pump. So... yeah. I’ll just tell you about that just to be safe. There’s also a few brief mentions of alcohol. So, if you need to avoid that, feel free to just skip over the mention of it because it isn’t important at all, if I’m honest.

Word Count: 1.5k+

Title: I Do (Cherish You): Mark Wills

Additional: The reader is masculine this time!! He is described as having a beard and being a hockey player on the Flyers, so I hope that’s okay with you guys!! I made the reader masculine this time because someone sent me an ask this morning and told me they appreciated that I wrote masculine imagines and asked me if I would consider writing more. So, uh. Whoever you are, this is technically for you. I hope you and everyone else enjoy!

Stretching your arms above your head, you grunted when you felt your shoulder joints pop back into place. Nolan looked over from where he was sitting, smirking around his beer bottle as he took a drink.

"Woulda figured you'd be more accustomed to sitting in the same spot for a while," Nolan said, taking the opportunity to dig at the fact that you were a fourth-line player on the team.

You flipped Nolan off before drinking the last of your beer. You rubbed some sweat and condensation off your beard before you untucked your shirt and brought your hands down to your stomach.

"Fuck off, man," you mumbled half-heartedly, more focused on punching the correct numbers into your insulin pump.

"You kn--"

Nolan started speaking but anything he wanted to say was cut off by a succession of beeps coming from your stomach. Nolan quickly polished off his beer before standing from his chair and grabbing your empty beer bottle.

"Guess that means we need to go back." Nolan motioned his head down the dock in the direction of his cottage. "The refills are inside."

You frowned, standing from your chair and tucking your shirt back into your shorts in the process.

"We don't have to. I can just run inside, put one of them in, and come right back out."

Grabbing his phone, Nolan looked at the screen. He hummed before looking back at you as he slid the phone into his back pocket.

"True. But I'm hungry and it's close enough to dinner time."

Sighing, you scratched at your beard with one of your hands before holding them both up in surrender.

"Alright, alright. We can go to have dinner. I think there's still some fish left from what we caught yesterday."

Humming in appreciation, Nolan started making his way down the dock. You rolled your eyes, smirking and shaking your head before you followed after him.

About halfway up the walkway to the cottage, you saw that Nolan had stopped and was holding his hands up defensively. You approached carefully, placing a hand on Nolan's shoulder. Nolan jumped what you could've sworn was thirty-five feet out of his skin before he glared at you.

"Careful," Nolan hissed, slightly motioning his head in the direction of the cottage's outdoor garbage bin.

When you followed the motion, you froze and felt panic blooming throughout your body. A bear was rummaging around in the garbage. A rather substantially sized bear.

"Why is Chara in our garbage," you mumbled, grabbing Nolan's hand for comfort.

Nolan made no comment on the fact that you had grabbed onto his hand but he did glare at you, cracking a small smile.

"Now isn't the time for jokes, idiot." However, he bumped shoulders with you to show that he appreciated it. "And, to answer your question, they're probably hungry."

You swallowed around a thick lump that had formed in your throat and, against your better judgement, dropped your head against Nolan’s shoulder. Nolan sighed and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. You swallowed around another thick lump, this one having nothing to do with the bear, as you breathed heavily out of your nose.

“That’s all well and good,” you said, pausing to swallow again, “they deserve to eat and all that. But I need more insulin if you want me to be functional.”

"Do you want me to…?" Nolan trailed off but you understood what he was trying to say.

You looked up at Nolan, furrowing your eyebrows and face twisting into a scowl.

"I'd rather you didn't," you said, plainly. "If you get mauled, what am I gonna do if I need help later?"

Nolan huffed, knocking shoulders with you again.

"I'm your best friend, (Y/N). Not your caregiver. While I would still gladly help if you asked because I care about you, you don't give yourself enough credit."

You felt yourself short-circuit because Nolan had just said he cared about you. The rational part of your brain knew that he meant it in a friendly way. But the part of your brain that was winning this argument, the part you were listening to, was telling you that he meant it in a romantic way, the way you had wanted for what felt like an eternity.

"If your on-ice antics say anything, you know how to take care of yourself just fine."

Nolan continuing to speak drew you out of your fantasyland, forcing you to formulate an articulate sentence that didn’t involve you spilling your feelings for your best friend to said best friend.

"Defending my honour and staying alive are two very different things, sweetheart," you said.

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you realized what you had said. Your entire face felt hot, your beard suddenly feeling itchy from the newfound heat, and you felt embarrassed beyond belief. Not wanting to look at Nolan, you dropped your head against his chest to hide from his gaze.

"Yes, true. But you've managed to stay alive this long, haven't you?"

There was a long pause, the only noise coming from the bear that was still rummaging around in the garbage. You were worried that Nolan would think that you were starting to get sleepy from lack of insulin (which was actually true if he were to ask), so you mumbled softly against his chest, hoping he would hear you.

“Yeah…” Your voice sounding somewhat defeated. “I love you, sweetheart. Thank you for caring about me.”

Nolan lifted your head up and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Relief washed over you as you smiled, feeling tears in your eyes. After carefully placing the beer bottles on the ground, Nolan wrapped you in a hug. You sighed and got comfortable in Nolan’s embrace, figuring you’d be there for a while.

You weren’t sure how long had passed when Nolan started carding his fingers through your hair and then your beard, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you back from his embrace. You blinked owlishly at Nolan, feeling somewhat bleary from the lack of insulin. Nolan squeezed your cheeks, tapping them a couple of times. You grunted, swatting at his shoulder with a playful smile on your face.

“Just wanted to make sure you were still with me,” Nolan said. You thought you detected some uncharacteristic concern in his voice but you were too out of it to process if that was true or not.

Nolan motioned his head toward the garbage bin. Your eyes slowly drifted over there, lighting up when you saw that the bear was gone..

“Yay! Chara is gone,” you said, voice somewhat quieter than normal.

You yawned harshly, feeling your head start to swim. Looking up at Nolan, you patted him on the cheek.

"Let’s get inside before I pass out.”

Nodding, Nolan held your hand as you walked into the cottage. He sat you onto the couch and rushed into your bedroom to grab you a refill for your insulin pump. When he returned, he handed you the refill and sat down beside you.

It took a few tries to figure out because your hands were clumsy from being so tired but you managed to place the refill into the pump without any help from Nolan. Nolan ruffled your hair, placing a soft kiss on your cheek as you punched in the correct numbers to get the rest of the insulin you needed from earlier. It took a few minutes but you started to feel better, feel more awake. You flexed your hands, pleased that they didn’t feel like gelatin anymore. You blinked a few times, getting your eyes readjusted to being at full strength.

When you looked at Nolan, he looked up at you with a nervous smile. Instead of speaking, he moved closer to you and grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers and placing your hands on his knee. You glanced down at his knee and then up at him, seeing the tentative look in his eye. You nodded because you were fairly certain you knew what he wanted. Your theory was proven right when Nolan leaned forward and connected your lips, cupping your jaw with his free hand. Smiling into the kiss, you brought your free hand up and grabbed the collar of Nolan’s shirt, tugging him in closer. Nolan grunted, mouth falling open as he continued to kiss you. You took that opportunity to experimentally slide your tongue into Nolan’s mouth. Nolan groaned, pulling back from the kiss. You swallowed thickly when you saw the beard burn your kiss had left behind.

Nolan twisted on the couch, dropping his head against your shoulder. You slung your arm around his back, pulling him in as close as you could. Nolan hummed, bringing his arm around your shoulders.

“About what you said earlier…” Nolan looked up at you, eyes unreadable.

“Look, I…” You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that the couch would swallow you whole. “I was starting to go loopy from lack of insulin. It doesn’t mean anything. It never does when I get like that.”

Nolan looked up at you with a sideways glance, furrowing his eyebrows.

“You and I both know that that’s bullshit. You say some of the most truthful shit on the rare chance that you get like that.”

Slouching your shoulders, you sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Worth a shot, I guess.”

“There’s no need to get down on yourself or feel bad,” Nolan said, looking at you softly. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

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iisuya-simps · 3 years

Text

A Kings Coronation (Royal au – Otoya x Reader)

A/N: I've been trying to write this since his birthday celebration card came out

Klab please let me marry this man ~ I will give him my s o u l

God, I wish this were me...

Enjoy~

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

Word count: 2458

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

The day of Otoya's 18th birthday. Today he would be crowned king and take over the kingdom. You woke up early and rode all morning from your country to see him. A few hours later you woke to the sun shining in your eyes, seeing how you slept most of the way.

It was crowded when you got there. Guards lined up at every corner. People came far and wide to witness the crowning of a new king. You had to push through the crowd to even get close to the main balcony when a hand touched your shoulder.

“There you are! I finally found you!” You feel someone's arms wrap around your waist. It was him. “Otoya!” You turn and give him a hug, he squeezes you back. “Thanks for coming.”

“How could I miss my best friend's 18th birthday/coronation??” “Haha, this place is totally packed, huh? Just getting over here to you was crazy.” “They're all here for you.” You give a warm smile.

“Congratulations, King Otoya Ittoki.” You curtsy. “Gosh... Hearing you say it all formal like is kinda embarrassing.” He scratches his head. “Well, I'll answer as the birthday king should.” Otoya puts his hands on his hips puffing out his chest. “You have my thanks, dear Y/N.” Then bows. “Maybe that wasn't so regal...” you both laugh.

“Well, today is about to kick into high gear so stick close to me, ok?” “I promise I won't leave your side.”

“Still, I'd find you even if you vanished into thin air. We'll have lots more time to talk if we stick together, plus everyone can know about us right?”

“Know about us?”

“Let's go!” You follow close behind him but find it challenging with all of the people. You hesitate to grab his hand but he takes yours first. You look up and see his bright smile and wink as he guides you through the crowds of people till he sneaks you inside.

“Hey, there's something I'd like to show you.” “Oh?” “Close your eyes.” “Otoya...” You whine. “Come on it's a surprise!”

“Fine.” You close your eyes and he takes your hand guiding you slowly down the hall.

“Don't peek, ok?” “I wouldn't dream of it.” You go down a few halls then Otoya puts his hands over your eyes. “It's just up ahead, so put your trust in me. Keep walking straight.”

Continuing down the corridor you approach some steps and a large door. “There's a small staircase so watch your step.”

“Shouldn't I be the one surprising you?” “Maybe. But it's not often we see each other. Just a few more steps and we're here!” He takes his hands away from your face. “Open your eyes!” Revealed to you is a grand balcony with a gorgeous view of the land. “Ta da!”

“Wow, Otoya!” “Are you surprised?” “This is amazing! I've never been here before.” “This is the prettiest spot in the whole castle, so I had to show you! There's even an awesome view of the ocean!”

You can see every corner of the courtyard. You walk up to the railing and lean forward taking in the sights, Otoya joins you from behind.

“Beautiful isn't it? Wonderful weather, and a beautiful princess.” You giggle. “And a charming prince, soon to be king.”

You both heard a commotion from below. “Uhh, it looks like everyone is looking for me. They won't check here right?” He scratches the back of his head. “Maybe we should go back.” “Nah, it'll only be a few minutes, no harm done. Besides look!” Otoya shuffles in a bag behind his back.

“I brought us some cake for us to eat together!” You cross your arms. “Otoya isn't that for the reception?” “Well yeah but I want to eat it with you now... And it's my birthday so anything goes!” You shake your head and laugh. “Alright then, let's dig in.” “Yay!”

He places the plate on the table to the left of the balcony. “After you, princess.” He pulls out a chair. “How kind of you your majesty.” Grabbing two forks from his bag he sits across from you unwrapping the cake. “Waah, this looks sooo good. Itadakimasu!” You both took a bite savouring the vanilla cake and fluffy buttercream frosting.

“Mmm, I knew it.” “Knew what?” “That this cake is way tastier being here with you than at the party.” “Uh-huh.” “What? You don't feel the same way?” He pouts. “Everything's better with you, Otoya.” “Really? I think so too... With you I mean!” You both gobble down the rest of your cake not saying a word but simply enjoying each other's company.

“Ahh, that hit the spot. Shall we go?” “You have cake on your face silly. You'll look like a fool if you go out like that.” “Hmm? Where is it?” He licks around his lips. “No on your cheek, here.” You laugh stepping closer to wipe the icing with your thumb from his cheek. Sticking it in your mouth you then clapping your hands together.

“That's better.” “T-thanks...” He blushes but quickly recovers. “Well, the party's just getting started.” You place your hands on his shoulders. “Let's make this the best day ever!”

You and Otoya go back down to greet the people outside in the crowd. Staying closely by his side he never let you out of his sight. “Otoya there you are! I swear you have no sense of time. The ceremony is about to begin!” The queen crosses her arms. “Already?” “Yes, now let's go.” “But Y/N...” “I'll be fine.” You smile. He takes both of your hands in his. “I'll come to find you after, ok?” “Alright, now go get your crown.” You wink.

The crowning ceremony was lovely. Otoya took the coronation oath and made a speech. Afterwards, everyone gathered in the main ballroom then the celebration really began. You were wandering around near the edge of the ballroom when you felt a hand pull you around the corner.

“Hey.” “Oh hi.” You smile and fix your eyes on his crown. “So what's next, king?” “Hehe, come with me.” You spend the rest of the day greeting more people, enjoying the food at the banquet and listening to the royal orchestra. When nightfall came Otoya leads you away from the dwindling crowds to his bedroom to retire for the night.

“Wow, that was a blast.” You jump on his bed and sink into the duvet. “We hung out all day huh?” “Yup seems like it.” “Time flies when I'm with you. Oh! And did you hear the band? They were all like bweeh daa daa doooo.” Otoya mimics a violin shaking his head around.

“Ah! My crown is gonna fall!” He juggles it between his hands leaning over and catching it before it hits you. “Gotcha. Whoa!” The carpet slipping from under him he fell on top of you anyway. “S-sorry y/n!” There was a moment you stared into each other's eyes. You blushed a bright red then laughed.

“Cmon... no laughing. I just let my guard down a bit...” he pouts. “You're just a clutz, Otoya.” You scoot off to the other side of the bed. “Am not! I always act like a king should...” “Uh huh. So what does it feel like to be a king anyway?” He places his hand on his chin and ponders.

“It's not much different than being a prince yet I don't think. Though I guess a big responsibility falls on my shoulders now that I am a king. I have a whole kingdom to look out for after all. And you.” “I can look after myself.” “But you don't have to.” Otoya twiddles his thumbs together.

“Anyway... Today is special! After all, you're here with me.” He raises a brow. “Hey, why are you so far away? Didn't you promise not to leave my side? Come sit by me. You're making me lonely...” He pouts again. “Promise you won't fall on me again?” “Not on purpose.” “Haha.” You move closer and the both of you talk about the day's events. Though the whole time, you couldn't help feel butterflies dance in your stomach.

“I had a great time today, Y/N.” “Me too.” “Everything was so wild during the day, but now all I hear is you.” His hand caressing your cheek. You gaze, getting lost in his eyes. “Those lips hold the voice I cherish most.” His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. Leaning forward his lips meet yours as they come together in a sweet kiss. You stay like that for a moment, then part. You turn away embarrassed. “Wait what's wrong? Don't turn away.” He giggles. “You left yourself open for that.” You laugh too.

“Look at me.” He turns your head and your eyes meet once more. “I'm sorry I guess I just wasn't expecting that...” He places both hands on the side of your face slowly pulling you into another kiss. “Were you expecting that?” “Hehe.” You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. You melt into each other drawing out each kiss for as long as you could. “I don't know, were you expecting that?” You both laugh and he pulls you into his arms.

“Oh, Y/N...” He sighs. “I just want you all to myself.” “So selfish, your majesty.” “Hey, a king's orders are absolute you know. That being said, I order you to stay and talk all night to me.” “I guess I cant disobey direct orders.” “Hehe, no you can't.” You lay back and chat in his arms, steadily getting more sleepy you yawn.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” “I did arrange to stay for a few days.” “Really? He beams then suddenly gets nervous. “W-what is it?” You ask, both looking serious and sit up.

“Y/N, would you stay longer if I asked you to marry me?” Your eyes widened. “O-Otoya I-”

“I know it's sudden, I just can't wait. I want you to be mine.” “Are you sure? There are plenty of other princesses that are dying for your hand in marriage.” “Well of course there are other princesses, but you're the only one I have my eyes on. You're too special not to be my beloved.”

“Otoya...” A happy tear slides down your cheek but he wipes it away and holds your hands. “Hows about I ask you again tomorrow? More formally.” “Okay.”

You're unable to hold back the grin from your face. Marry Otoya? Being his friend is one thing but this is a dream come true.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” You get up and grab your purse shuffling around. “Close your eyes Otoya.” “Ok ok... You take the little box from your purse and open it to place a small wooden triangle in his hand. “You can open your eyes now.” He looks down at his hand to see a small triangular pick. “A pick?” He studies it. “For your guitar!”

“Wha-” reaching under the bed you pull out a brand new redwood guitar. “Wow! For me?! Are you sure?!” “Of course! Otoya takes the guitar running his fingers over the frets and strings. “Happy birthday Otoya.” He sets the guitar down by the nightstand beside him. “Thank you Y/N!” He tackles you to the bed holding you tight.

You spend the rest of the night giddily talking about your goals, dreams and aspirations for the future. Eventually falling asleep next to each other.

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

In the morning you wake to a blushing Otoya combing his hand through your hair and your eyes flutter awake.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Otoya presses a kiss to your forehead. “Morning.” You yawn. “Did you sleep well?” “That was the best sleep I've had in a while.” Otoya beams. “Good, are you hungry? Would you like breakfast? I could have the cook bring us something.” “That sounds lovely.”

“I'll be right back!” Otoya rushes off to the kitchen and has a special breakfast made. He returns with the cook serving both of you a buffet.

“Otoya!! We cant eat all this!?!” "That's ok, there's plenty of variety so just pick what you want!” You share a large breakfast together in bed. Otoya insists on feeding you dessert, but after the feast you just had you couldn't possibly take another bite.

After a quick rest, Otoya leads you on a stroll through the garden. It's early spring and the flowers are just starting to bloom. You're walking along when you pull Otoya to a stop.

“Hibiscus!” You wander over to the colorful display of red, yellow, white and pink flowers. “Hibiscus is my favorite flower.” You hold back your hair and take in the sweet almost fruity fragrance. “Y/N.” Otoyas hand takes yours.

“We've known each other since we were kids. As the years have gone by I've realized how special you are to me as a friend and something more. I promise to love and protect you as I will my kingdom. With you by my side, I feel as if I can do anything. I will give you each and every one of these flowers and more.” Otoya kneels down in front of you.

“My heart belongs to you and only you.” You gasp as he opens the velvet box to reveal a dazzling yet subtle ring. “Say you'll be mine, forever and always.”

“Otoya...” You tear up once more. “Yes, of course I'll be yours!” He stood and took the ring out of the box placing it on your finger. You leap to hug him almost knocking him over in the process. This was better than you could ever imagine.

"Otoya, I love you." Your heart pounds as you pull back to look him in the eyes.

"I love you too, Y/N." You share a very heartfelt passionate kiss.

Otoya plucks a flower from one of the branches and tucks it in your hair.

“There, for my beautiful bride to be.” You plant a gentle kiss on his cheek and walk hand in hand back to the castle where you greet the queen.

You feel quite foolish when you realize that it was your parent's plan all along to get you two together, but it worked out so naturally you didn't care. You were getting married to the guy of your dreams, and that was a miracle within itself.

Your wedding was celebrated with your family and civilians from far and wide.

But with Otoya by your side, this truly was a dream come true.

#uta pri #uta no prince sama #shining live #otoya ittoki #starish #otoya x reader

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danny-chase · 3 years

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Breaking a Promise - Read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Titans (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), The New Titans (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Dick Grayson/Joseph Wilson Characters: Dick Grayson, Koriand'r (DCU), Joseph Wilson Additional Tags: tw for self harm, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Angst, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Canon Divergence, emotional breakdown, Broken Bones, description of injury, star crossed lovers, Flowers, Canonical Character Death, it's Joey guys, I'm Sorry, Swearing, lot of f bombs, POV Dick Grayson, Dick grayson centric, Dick Grayson is bi, Dick Grayson is Bad at Feelings, Dick Grayson is Discowing, Dick Grayson Needs Therapy, Dick Grayson Whump, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, a little bit of fluff near the top, Gardening, when your gf is poly and ships you with someone else, Heartbreak, Heartache, no beta we die like -sobs- Joey, Hurt/Comfort, and then hurt/no comfort to follow it up Series: Part 5 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

The one where Dick Grayson has his heartbroken twice.

Full story under cut

Two years ago:

“Dick, what about this one?” Kor’i smiled sweetly, positively glowing in the sun. She gestured to a little potted plant sitting in the shade of the bottom rack. Her hair fluttered in the wind, seeming to sweep up his heart as well. Crouching, he gently bumped her shoulder, and she nudged him back. Perfect.

“Why don’t we look over there?” Dick asked, pointing over to another shelf.

“But I like this one.” She pouted, puffing out her bottom lip slightly. He glanced at the little sprout she picked out, his mind happily buzzing as he identified it without looking at the tag – botany lessons with Alfred had paid off.

“Lamprocapnos spectabilis.” He began. Kor’i nuzzled her head on his shoulder, reaching out a hand to stroke the leaves. He grabbed the little tag sticking out of the pot. “This one is of the Valentine variety.”

“Mmm.” She rested her hand back on Dick’s thigh, warmth spreading from the spot. “Tell me more.” He swallowed and complied.

“They’re a perennial – they come back annually. They like full or partial shade, and are native to Siberia, Japan, northern China, and Korea.”

“How big will it get?” She asked, rising to her feet, carrying the plant with her.

“About yay high.” He spread his hands two feet. “But Kor’i, uh, I can’t just give that to Joey it’s-”

“Commonly known as the bleeding heart?” She smiled mischievously. “I don’t see why not, your heart bleeds all the time.” She innocently widened her eyes, batting her eyelashes. “Or is it because it symbolizes love? Do you not love him?” Doubt was as clear in her voice as it was in her face.

“I-” He stammered; he would never cheat. “I love you.” Heat rose to his face. “Only you.”

Kor’i was perfect, she was so loving, always building him up, never tearing him down. Always healing, nurturing, growing seeds of her own – not just in him, she seemed to bring out the best in everyone she met. People basked in her beauty, and he simply basked in the knowledge of her presence. In being loved so fully, so openly and honest. Dick didn’t know if he could ever love anyone more.

“Oh.” Kor’i looked thoughtfully at the clear cerulean sky. “I wouldn’t mind if you… loved someone else too.” He frowned.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I did, but Kor’i, you’re the only one for me.” He stood, lightly pecking her on the cheek. She grinned, grabbing his hand, dragging him towards the checkout line.

“I like this one, forget silly earth symbolisms, Joey would love it.”

Dick sighed, following along anyways – she was right, of course, she always was – Joey would love the flowers, they were pals after all, he wouldn’t read too much into it.

One year ago:

A cool breeze snaked its way over the hillside, finding its way around the rock at his back and through his hair – leaving him disheveled in its wake. A chill rain up his spine, goosebumps swiftly decorating his arms. He could feel his hair slowly rise up, standing in a desperate bid to retain heat.

Dick wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, knees tucked to his chest, head resting on his crossed arms. Too long likely. He should be back to the tower soon – he didn’t want anyone to worry, but after the mess on Tamaran, it was best for him to be alone right now.

He was just… so tired. He’d already destroyed half his punching bags trying to fight the emotion out – which had worked to some extent, leaving his hands throbbing and arms burning. He sprinted as far as he could go before his legs gave out. It had dulled the anger and pain, leaving him worn out and exhausted. The dull ache in his chest returned just as soon as it had left.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at the night sky – he’d come out here for comfort – to watch the waves lap against the rocks from far above and gaze up at the stars. But the stars could never shine brighter than Kor’i, only serving to remind him of what he’d lost when he’d ventured too close to the sun.

It wasn’t fair – Kor’i hadn’t loved Karras though they were together – legally bound, and he was here, light years spanning the distance between those bound by their souls.

He never believed in love in first sight. Not until he’d met her.

He’d always believed in love, though, from the time he was a child – his parents were living proof. It was foolish – his parents had died hadn’t they? Believing in their love until the bitter end, loving their lives, each other, him. It was love that kept them on the trapeze all those years, and that love had killed them.

He sighed, maybe Bruce was right – love wasn’t something compatible with their lifestyle. He never shared himself so fully with others or lost himself so fully either. Always playing cat and mouse with his lovers, never committing, communing with another soul the way he had with Kor’i.

He licked his chapped lips, tasting salt in the air. Light footsteps padded towards him. He curled further in on himself, not in the mood to talk. A rough woolen blanket dropped over his shoulders.

It smelled like crisp green apples, mixed with a hint of cinnamon.

Adeline Wilson had great tastes in laundry detergent – something she’d handed down to her son.

Joey crouched next to him, wrapping an arm around him, offering warmth and comfort. Dick hesitated, mind screaming to recoil, run away – be alone and repress, but heart yearning for the warmth and comfort he always seemed to find in Joey. That same warmth reminded him of Kor’i.

The desire for comfort won out, loosening up, he leaned against Joey’s shoulder. Joey’s chin nestled into the base of his neck; soft puffs of warm, wet air sent tingles down his spine. He raised his head a little dislodging Joey, feeling weirdly uncomfortable – but not displeased – just – he’d think about that later, now wasn’t the time.

Joey quickly backed off, removing his arm. Dick gave him a side glance and for a moment, lost himself in kind emerald eyes. <em>He isn’t Kor’i</em>. Why was that so hard to remember?

It took him a minute to process Joey signs. ‘Your hands.’ He followed his gaze down to his numb fingers. Upon seeing them he was hit by the realization they hurt like hell. He probably should have remembered to wear gloves, or at least wrap them, before taking his frustration out on punching bags.

His right hand had swollen, both had bruises blossoming, his skin rubbed raw, blood freely dripping from busted knuckles.

“Fuck.” He’d be out of the game for at least a month, if he was right about his right pinky – that was a boxer’s fracture. Tendrils of pain crawled out from the spot, his hands throbbing in time to his pulse. Dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that – the Titan’s needed him!

Joey squeezed his upper arm, ‘let’s go’, he suggested, rising to his feet. Dick bit his lip, internally cursing himself for being such a dumbass. He shakily rose to his feet, immediately hit by a wave of exhaustion. Which in hindsight – he probably shouldn’t have sprinted until he dropped either.

Joey wrapped an arm around his waist, bending slightly to stand under his shoulder and steadying him as the blanket slipped over his shoulders. They left it were it lay – more pressing matters to attend to, but Dick shivered in the cool night without it. He took a few wobbling steps forward – and dumb – his knees gave out.

He never came close to the ground, instead, finding himself lifted into a princess carry. Joey smiled apologetically, with a little shrug. Dick sighed; this was embarrassing. He was eighteen – he should know better – Bruce had taught him better!

“It’s fine, thanks.” He ignored how rough his voice sounded, instead concentrating on the throbbing from his hands, using the pain to block out the ache in his chest. He focused his gaze forward, not thinking about how close he was to Joey, how Kor’i used to carry him this way, how Joey smelled like honeysuckle and lilac, how this was everything he missed – and he just prayed he wasn’t falling in love again – he couldn’t be, no – he just... he was projecting. He just missed Kor’i.

He ignored Donna’s concerned eyebrow raise as they passed her on the way back to the tower. Gar’s whistle as they crossed the living room. The way Joey was so delicate when placing him in the passenger seat of the helicopter, so careful to avoid eye contact, so mindful of his pride.

In the brighter lighting he noticed stark red against Joey’s golden curls. A flower from a bleeding heart had made its way into Joey’s hair. There were gardening gloves in his back pocket

His heart sped up as they took off, he felt weirdly lighter than before – though perhaps he was just dizzy from pain. Joey stared at him, his eyes darker than before, brow set determinedly, but looking pained and a bit melancholic.

“What’s wrong?” Dick asked, feeling guilty for ruining whatever gardening project Joey had evidently come from. A lot was wrong, he was wrong, was asking a stupid question.

The tips of Joey’s lips curled into a frown. ‘Do not do that again’ he pointed at Dick’s broken hands.

Dick shrugged, it was a dumb move, he couldn’t guarantee he’d never break his hand again. He shifted his gaze back through the window. Joey tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Promise.’ Well, if it would keep Joey happy, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“I promise.” He wouldn’t break his hand as long as he never broke his heart.

Now.

He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid, and he didn’t lack self-awareness. He knew how to bottle his feelings into a jar, create a vacuum seal, and tuck them away on a shelf. The thing was, he also knew eventually he had to deal with the things he compartmentalized.

It had been a month since Joey died. He’d been putting it off. But today…

The bleeding heart had wilted.

The jar fell to the floor and shattered, his heart disintegrating into a million shards with it.

A watering can joined the broken glass on the floor, before he knew what was happening, he was running from Joey’s garden, not knowing where he was going, not sure of his surroundings. His vision narrowed, relying on muscle memory and reflex to avoid crashing.

Crashing was a good way to describe this.

He was right there. Looked Joey in the eyes. Watched him become twisted and never even noticed that his beloved friend was going through things no one should ever go through, slowly destroyed from within, suffocating from a painfully sluggish death before Slade made the final move.

“FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCK!” Birds flapped away as he screamed at the sky, at the world for letting this happen. Joey never knew – he never told him – was too scared that this would – that he would –

WHY DID THINGS HURT SO MUCH HE SWORE NOT TO LOVE ANYONE LIKE HER AGAIN-

*CRACK*

He broke a tree, feeling bone snap against splintered bark.

He froze, staring at his right pinky, and laughed.

So much for promises.

Laughs turned to sobs, knees buckling as he fell to the forest floor – sitting on his heels before flopping to his back. Staring up at the baby blue sky, cumulus clouds drifted by without a care in the world, laughing at him, mocking him from the high heavens.

Tears flowed freely, nature as the only witness.

His heart wasn’t supposed to break like this, he’d locked it away long ago, he wasn’t supposed to care about people like this anymore, that wasn’t in the fucking plan. He’d restrained himself, time and time again, turned down offers, avoided hanging out – he did everything he was supposed to do to not fall in love again.

And absolutely none of it mattered.

Love had mattered – fuck love for being like this – fuck Bruce for making him believe he could live like him – fuck the world – fuck Joey – fuck Kor’i – fuck everything. Fuck whoever he was supposed to be, his training, his painstaking control of his emotions.

He pounded the ground with his good hand, promises could be broken, but he wouldn’t break – not today – he didn’t have time. He could be dead today, next week, fuck – half the Titans were dead, Jason was dead, he couldn’t waste time like this - his life was going to be short.

His life was going to fucking short and he needed to pull himself together – he had family to get back to. He had people he loved – if his heart was going to break anyways – he was so FUCKING stupid.

Drowning in regret, he slammed the ground again, hard enough for the shockwaves to jar his broken hand. Feeling pain was better than feeling this – because fuck – fuck – he loved Joey. He loved Joey and Kor’i and they were both gone and nothing was okay anymore. Joey never even knew. Never even knew – and it was all his fault – and he never knew how much he mattered – never knew how when he smiled it everything around him dulled in comparison or how when they talked it was like he had known him his all life.

He never knew.

And would never know.

He focused on taking painful breaths sobbing himself silly, laughing till he couldn’t breathe, and crying until he couldn’t feel. Time passed in a vacuum, hysteria waxing and waning until he ran out of tears to cry.

He rolled over, pressing himself up, wiping his face on his shirt, ignoring the familiar pain creeping up his arm.

He made a new promise because well, fuck the last one didn’t work out so he might as well start over. Giant pines towered over him standing tall as silent witnesses. He swore on the living along with the dead, any that would listen really – he didn’t care - he couldn’t keep living like this.

“Whoever I love will know.” He whispered the words as a sacred oath, finding an odd sense of solace. He paused, letting the words hang in the air as if imbuing them with some sort of power.

Stumbling forward, he made his way back home.

#bad things happen bingo #titans #batfam #ntt #dick grayson #joey wilson #koriand'r #dickkory #dickjoey #tw heartbreak #nightwing #discowing era lol #my writing

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