#I’ve been craving fluff and comfort for the past few days and this kept me going | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daisynik7 · 9 months

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hi, nikki :) congrats on 2k, my love 💕you deserve it and more! i’m just sending in a lil something for the milestone event: (i bet you look good on the dancefloor) by arctic monkeys — fluff/smut for reiner braun! thank you so much in advance, lovely! 🎀

I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor

Pairing: Reiner Braun x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.7k

cw: modern-day au, college au, drinking (everyone is 21+), fluff, smut – PIV sex (missionary), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, pet names (sweetheart, baby)

Summary: You, a college senior who’s lived a mostly vanilla lifestyle the past four years, meet the alluring and mysterious Reiner at your friend’s birthday party. He’s different from you in many ways, but something about him captivates you like no other. When he invites you to an underground concert, you take a chance with him, craving for a taste of something different.

Author’s Notes: @pinkmirth Mira, my love! Thank you for participating in the y2k karaoke party! I appreciate you so so much and I hope I did your hubby justice with this one! I went a little over the word count that I originally thought I would, but I just couldn’t help it! I got too caught up in the setup, LOL, sorry! Special shoutout to @mobolanz for always posting amazing Reiner content that kept me motivated to finish this hehe.

Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated! Thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest (although I’m fairly certain it’s from the manhwa 19 Days).

It’s Annie’s 22nd birthday today; instead of going out to a club or bar, she decides she’d rather have a kickback with her closest friends, eating pizza and drinking cheap alcohol. Armin and Eren offer to host at their place, which is a twenty-minute walk from the university. As an RA for one of the freshman dorms on campus, it’s nice to get out every once in a while in the city that you so rarely have a chance to explore, even if it is just at someone else’s house. When you arrive, you recognize all of the people already there, other students you either personally know or have seen in passing. You greet Annie with a hug, handing her a small gift bag with a bottle of her favorite liquor. “Thank you!” she exclaims. “I’m so glad you were able to make it.”

“Me too! Though, I’ve got my work phone on me in case there are any emergencies,” you reply, pointing to the crossbody bag hanging on your shoulder.

“Always so responsible. Such a good girl,” she teases, pinching your cheek.

In your four years as a college student, you haven’t done anything outside of your comfort zone. You waited until you were officially legal to drink, and even now, you barely do it. Studies and extracurriculars always took priority over your social life, and while you have a solid group of friends, you haven’t done anything remotely wild. It’s not because you don’t have the desire to, there’s just never been a good opportunity.

You spend the next half hour chatting with a few of the partygoers, sharing stories on certain professors, gossiping about other students, all while nursing a White Claw, sipping it slowly. It seems all of Annie’s friends are already here, so you don’t except anyone else to arrive. So, it surprises you when there’s a loud pounding on the door. Everyone glances towards it, curious at who it is. Annie answers, revealing two well-built men. One of them is incredibly tall that he has to duck down to enter through the doorway. The other is slightly shorter, though still impressive, with broad shoulders and a muscular physique. He has short blond hair, a trimmed goatee, sharp jawline, and an intimidating gaze. Something about his appearance is striking, and you’re immediately intrigued.

You watch as they embrace the birthday girl, who punches them playfully in the shoulders. “Long time, no see, punks.”

“Sorry, Annie,” the taller one apologizes. “Classes have been a colossal pain lately.”

“And I’ve been busy at the shop,” the other adds. His voice is exactly what you imagine it would be like: gruff, husky. Sexy. Your interest piques even more, and you can’t remember the last time you felt this way about anyone, especially a complete stranger. When he removes his black leather jacket, your eyes widen at the reveal of his biceps, toned and sculpted like a marble statue. He’s wearing a fitted white tank with dark jeans, a chain hanging on the loop of his waistband with a small set of keys dangling. As if he couldn’t get any more attractive, here he is, flaunting his ripped body. You continue to watch him as he hangs his jacket on the coat rack by the door, inspecting the room while talking to Annie. “So, are these all college friends of yours?”

“Yup. You’re the only delinquents here,” she jokes, passing each of them a beer.

“Shut up,” he laughs, twisting the cap off to take a swig. “Whose house is this anyways?”

She points to Armin and Eren, who sit on the couch, talking animatedly. “It’s theirs. They were nice enough to offer.”

“Cool. I guess I should go mingle, then. Unless you think these people will be scared of me.”

“Some of them could use some scaring, if you know what I mean,” she replies with a smirk.

The two strangers make their way towards the hosts, shaking their hands to introduce themselves. You take this chance to approach your friend in the kitchen. “Annie, how do you know them?”

“Bertolt and Reiner? Oh, they’re childhood friends of mine. We all grew up together in Marley.”

“Oh,” you nod. “Cool.”

She raises a brow at you. “Why? Are you interested?”

“No! I was just curious! I’ve never seen them around before.” Your voice is squeaky, and you’ve clearly given yourself away.

She snickers, nudging you in the arm. “I can introduce you if you want. They’re a lot nicer than they look.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to bother them – ”

“Reiner!” Annie calls out to the blond, and heat instantly surrounds your face. Too late to turn back, you stand up straight, watching the attractive man return to the kitchen, finished with his beer. “What’s up?”

“I want you to meet my friend.” Annie beckons you forward, stating your name. You smile at him, holding your arm out.

He flashes a charming grin at you, enough to send a flutter in your belly. “I’m Reiner. Nice to meet you.” He shakes your hand, gripping you firmly.

“I’m going to go socialize. You two get along, okay?” Annie departs quickly, leaving you and Reiner to get acquainted.

“I heard that you’ve known Annie since she was a kid,” you start, attempting small talk. “What was she like back then?”

He leans on the refrigerator door, folding his arms across his chest, displaying his large chest. “She was a little shit, just like she is now,” he laughs. “She’s probably tamer since college though. We used to get into a bunch of fights together.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She can really kick some ass if she wanted to.” He licks his lips before asking, “How do you know her?”

You try not to get distracted by the dirty thoughts swimming in your head right now, more and more attracted to him by the second. “We met in a class back in sophomore year, and we’ve been friends ever since. She’s really fun to be around.”

“And how about you?” His eyes bore into yours, and there’s an intensity in his gaze that you’re drawn by. “Are you fun to be around?”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Probably not. I’m pretty vanilla.”

“Vanilla is good.”

“Vanilla is safe,” you argue.

“It’s also sweet, creamy, and delicious.”

You giggle, already so smitten by him. “Are you telling me that I’m sweet, creamy, and delicious?”

“I guess I’ll have to find that out myself.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he speaks to you, and this could be wishful thinking, but a spark ignites between you. For the first time in your uneventful college life, you’re flirting with the outsides of your comfort zone, slowly gravitating towards this mysterious and alluring stranger. And it’s exciting.

You continue your conversation, exchanging little flirtations here and there, learning more about him. The friend he arrived with, Bertolt, currently goes to school in Marley, where they both live. Reiner is a mechanic at a car shop in his hometown of Liberio. He’s never attended college and doesn’t plan to, already set to inherit the shop when the owner retires. On the weekends, he enjoys riding his motorbike around town and going out to underground concerts. You reveal to him how different your weekends are compared to his, considering you usually stay in.

“Have you ever been to an underground concert?” The two of you have moved into Annie’s room now, where it’s quieter and away from the rest of the party. It was your idea; you weren’t thinking about how it would look, asking him to move into a more intimate setting. He keeps a safe distance from you at the edge of the bed, the door ajar so that you can barely hear the chatter outside.

“No, never,” you reply. “I used to listen to some alternative rock back in the day.”

“Really?” He seems surprised as he takes a sip out of his water cup. “Who?”

You hum, trying to remember. You name a few, then end with, “Oh! And the Arctic Monkeys!”

When he starts singing the chorus to one of their songs, your face lights up, recognizing the familiar tune. “Yes! I love that one!” you beam, nodding along with him.

There’s that endearing twinkle again, scooting closer to you. “You’re so cute.”

His comment catches you off guard, and just when you thought you were keeping your cool, your whole body starts to heat up, completely flustered at the sudden compliment. “What?”

“I said you’re so cute,” he repeats, unfazed. As if he didn’t just rock your world.

You swallow loudly. “Thank you. You’re really…handsome.”

He bursts out laughing, maintaining his gaze on you. “Handsome. The last time I heard that was from my mom when I was a kid.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to say?!”

“Hey, I’ll take it. I’m more than happy with that.” He leans forward and you’re gravitating towards him, gradually closing the gap between you. You’re inches from his face, so close to kissing, when your phone rings loudly in your purse on the nightstand. It startles the both of you, taking you a second to realize that it’s your work phone, indicating some sort of RA emergency.

One of your residents is begging to be let in after losing their keys somewhere. You tell them you’re on your way, giving Reiner a guilty glance. When you’re finished with the call, you explain the situation. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“I’ll give you a ride,” he offers, standing up.

“I drove here, so I’m fine. But thank you.”

“Then I’ll walk you to your car.” You don’t have the heart to reject him once more, so you agree, delivering quick goodbyes to your friends and to Annie, who eyes you curiously as Reiner follows you out. He walks beside you with his hands in his pockets, not speaking. When you’re at the door, he utters your name. “I’d really like to see you again.” He looks nervous, all the confidence he exuded earlier reduced into a shy expression.

You smile at him, chest swelling. “I’d really like to see you too.”

“Next weekend, there’s a concert I think you’d enjoy. It’s in Marley, but I can totally come here to pick you up and – ”

Before he starts rambling, you interrupt him politely. “I don’t mind driving to you. It’s not that far.” You give him your phone; he enters his number as a new contact. You give him a quick call so that he has yours. It’s like you’re teenagers, awkwardly exchanging info, all giddy and timid. “Text me the details, okay?”

“Yeah, I will.” He waits until you’re in the car, waving at you one last time before he shuts the door carefully. You glance at him through the rear-view mirror, grinning as he watches you drive off, already wishing it was next weekend.

~~~

Saturday finally arrives, the day you’ve been eagerly anticipating since the night you met Reiner. It’s unusual for you to be so enamored with someone you’ve only known for a week, worst of all, met once. You’ve been messaging non-stop since, even upgraded to a phone call last night that almost went until morning. And now, you’re pulling into a guest parking spot outside his apartment complex with an overnight bag hidden away in your trunk, just in case.

You head up a flight of stairs, searching for his number on the row of doors until you find the correct one, knocking twice, heartbeat already quickening. He answers promptly, dressed in a fitted black t-shirt that accentuates his ripped build. You swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth to greet him casually, hoping he doesn’t notice you practically drooling for him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he mimics, smiling at you. “You ready to go?”

You nod, surprised when he dangles two helmets, presenting one of them to you. “Are we taking your bike?”

“Yeah. That’s the only way I get around. Is that okay with you?”

You hesitate before responding, “Sure.”

He gives you a reassuring look. “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me. I promise.”

You learn soon enough that Reiner is a man of his word. With your arms around his waist, latched firmly to his abs, all you feel is exhilaration. He cruises through the streets of Marley, the night sky illuminated by the blur of city lights as you pass through downtown. The two of you don’t speak, the whoosh of wind rushing past your ears too deafening to hear anything but that and the engine. When he’s at a stop, he turns around to check on you, giving you a thumbs up, which you return enthusiastically. It also helps that he smells amazing: the subtle cologne on his clothes, the clean scent of his skin. Everything about him is attractive, and you can’t help but be drawn to him even more than you already were.

He parks his bike in an alley next to a venue with a big marquee, spelling the name “Lakua”. Below it shows that a band called “The Warriors” are playing tonight. You hop off first, unbuckling your helmet and passing it to him. He knocks a specific rhythm on a nearby door, and suddenly, a girl with wavy, black hair answers, grabbing them from his hands. “Thanks Pieck,” he says.

“Sure. Who’s you’re friend?” She examines you, smiling.

He states your name, adding, “I met her at Annie’s party last week.”

“I see,” she muses. “Well, have fun tonight.” With that, she winks at you, then shuts the door.

“We can go through the front,” he tells you, leading the way out of the alley and underneath the bright sign you saw earlier. There’s a bearded bouncer with wire-rimmed glasses at the front who acknowledges Reiner with a nod. “Evening, Reiner. IDs please.”

As you retrieve your licenses, Reiner slips him a wad of cash for admittance. “Hey Zeke. Did you hear them warm up?”

“Yep.” He juts his chin towards you. “Porco and Marcel are in top form tonight. Your pretty friend here is in for a real treat.”

“Great, we’re going in now,” Reiner responds quickly, wrapping his arm around you to steer you through the door. There’s a bar on one side, stocked with the typical shelves of liquor and four bartenders serving those that crowd around them. On the opposite end is a stage, set up with instruments, speakers, and lights. There’s a horde gathered near the front, waiting for the main act to start.

Reiner’s breath is warm on your ear when he says, “Follow me.” He holds your hand delicately, expertly maneuvering through the throng of concertgoers. He leads you past a curtained door towards the back, towards a closed room, knocking the same rhythm from earlier. It’s Pieck who answers, opening the door to usher you inside. “Hello again.”

On the couch are two men who resemble each other. Another with light brown hair stands in front of the mirror, fixing his hair. When you and Reiner enter, they all look, happily yelling, “Reiner!”

He introduces you to the brothers, Porco and Marcel, the two who are seated. They both play guitar and do vocals, Porco being the lead. Colt, who gives you a friendly wave, is their drummer. Pieck, the bassist, formally introduces herself. Together, they are The Warriors.

“We mostly do covers,” Marcel explains. “But we have some stuff in the works.”

“We tried to get Reiner to join, but he’s as tone-deaf as they come,” Porco teases, poking him in the arm.

Reiner chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s true. I’m pretty awful.”

“But he’s really good at other things. I’m sure you know that already,” Marcel comments, smirking.

Pieck shoves the guitarist’s arm. “Don’t be gross.” She redirects her attention to you. “Anyways, I hope you enjoy the show. Reiner’s been bugging us all week with requests. I have a hunch that you have something to do with it.”

You smile at him, noticing a faint blush on his cheeks. “Requests?”

“You’ll see,” he replies, grinning.

When it’s time for the band to perform, you make your way back to the dancefloor, more packed than it was when you first arrived. You manage to squeeze your way towards the front, Reiner huddled close behind you. Normally, you’d be claustrophobic, surrounded by all these hot, sweaty strangers. Reiner places his hands on your shoulders, leaning in to say, “I’m right here, okay? It might get a little rowdy, so if you want to leave, just tell me.”

You crane your neck to face him; he’s extremely close to you, enough that your noses are almost touching. It’s tempting to shift just the slightest bit forward and kiss him, but you resist the urge, already thrilled to be with him like this.

The crowd hollers as The Warriors strut across the stage, waving. At the mic, Porco yells, “Y’all ready to have fun tonight?!”

Louder applause erupts, and once Marcel starts a familiar guitar riff, it’s chaos in the best way possible. Soon, the bassline hits, then the drums, and your entire body thumps with each beat. It’s a song you recognize, and you’re impressed at how accurate they sound to the original while maintaining their own unique style. Marcel harmonizes perfectly with his brother, and together, their charisma on stage hypes everyone up. You bop your head to the melody, grinning ear-to-ear at how fun this is, the energy that surrounds you contagious. Reiner sways with you, grazing your back. You reach for his hand, brushing it with yours, turning to face him. “They’re so good!” you yell.

The two of you continue to enjoy the concert, dancing in whichever way the rest of the crowd is moving. You notice halfway through the setlist that many of the songs they’re playing are from artists you listed for him the night you met. The realization really hits you when the iconic intro from the Arctic Monkeys song Reiner hummed for you starts, and you turn completely around with the biggest smile on your face. He beams at you, equally as thrilled, dancing erratically with your fingers entwined together, mouthing the lyrics at each other, completely in sync.

~~~

It's past midnight by the time you make it back to Reiner’s place. Your skin is sticky from sweat, eardrums heavy from the concert, and you really don’t want to go home. You’re unsure if Reiner feels the same way until he unlocks his front door, suggesting, “Do you want to sleep over?” He asks it casually, though there is a hint of hesitation.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I have enough stuff you can use. You can borrow my clothes.”

You’re completely aware of the bag tucked away in your car right now, but the idea of wearing his clothes is too enticing, so you don’t mention it.

While you shower in his bathroom, your curiosity gets the best of you. You inspect all the products he uses, sniffing the pleasant scent before lathering it on yourself, satisfied with smelling exactly like him. You brush your teeth in front of the foggy mirror, wrapped in a towel, wondering how tonight is going to end. Should you make the first move? Should you make any move at all? Even with the vibes totally there, you’re still uncertain if he reciprocates your feelings. There’s this titillating tension hanging in the air, but you’re too nervous to cut it, afraid of rejection, of misunderstanding. Maybe this is the furthest the two of you will go, so you take advantage of this moment, hugging yourself in his t-shirt and boxers he lent you, inhaling his essence until it’s ingrained in your memory.

After you’re done, you walk out of the bathroom. He sits at the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. When he sees you, his eyes widen, scanning you up and down. “Wow.” It escapes out of his mouth abruptly, and he stammers, “Um, sorry. I’m…I’m going to shower now.” He gets up, avoiding your gaze, locking himself inside.

Maybe this isn’t the furthest the two of you will go.

~~~

You sit up in the bed, resting against the headboard, waiting for him. After a few minutes, he walks out, waist wrapped in a towel, chest bared and dewy with water. He glances at you, looking away to search his drawer for a new shirt. The tension is palpable, even more so now than ever before.

You clear your throat, wanting to break this unbearable silence. “Thank you again for letting me stay here.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, sliding a shirt over his head. He bends down to retrieve a pair of boxers on the lower shelf, slipping it underneath his towel. Dressed, he returns to the bathroom to hang his towel on the rack. You watch him carefully, so many thoughts racing in your head, the words on the tip of your tongue. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring at the carpet beneath his feet. “I’ll be on the couch if you need anything,” he murmurs, heading towards the door.

“Reiner, wait.”

He faces you, eager. “Yes?”

“Sleep here with me.” You pat the space next to you. “Don’t make me lonely tonight.”

He swallows thickly, taking long strides to get to you quick, crawling beside you. “Are you sure?”

You nod, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Absolutely sure.”

Fingers laced around the nape of his neck, you pull him in for a kiss, his plush lips surrounding yours seamlessly. He kisses you with fervor, slipping into your mouth, tongue swirling around yours. You yank on his collar, stretching the fabric, imploring him to strip his top off, which his does in a fluid motion. Caged between his biceps, you lay beneath him, caressing his face while you smother him in your kisses. When you break free to catch your breath, he nuzzles his nose to yours, whispering, “I’ve been waiting all night to do this. All week, actually.”

“Yeah?” you coo, trailing down his neck, flushed with excitement. “So have I.”

“You’re so fucking sexy in my clothes,” he huffs, hooking the elastic of your boxers with his finger. “You’re not wearing any panties, are you?”

You shake your head, and he smirks, sliding down the bed to position himself between your legs, tugging at your bottoms. You lift your hips up, wriggling out as he removes them off you, tossing it behind him. He stares at your pussy, throbbing and aching for his touch. Grabbing you behind the knees, he spreads you open, exposing your cunt. He doesn’t dawdle any longer, diving in to spread his tongue on your clit. You throw your head back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling, vision blurry from pleasure as he eats you out, determined to have his thirst quenched. He swallows every ounce of you, running his tongue along your slit and flicking it on your bud. And when your orgasm is so close to the peak, he puckers around you, sucking on your clit until it’s raw and swollen. You climax, squirming and whining, clenching the bedsheets, twisting it in your fists.

“Fuck,” he muffles, lapping at your cum as it spills out of your cunt. “Getting so messy for me.” His finger teases your entrance while he continues to flick his tongue on your sensitive bud. “Can you give me one more?” he coos, peering up at you with adoration, placing a wet smooch on the inside of your thigh. “Pretty please, sweetheart?”

You have no choice but to oblige, sinking into the cushions once more, twitching with ecstasy as he strokes your pussy with your clit in his mouth. There’s nothing on your brain except for Reiner and all the different positions he can fuck you in. You come a second time with two of his digits inside you, pussy covered in spit and arousal. He chuckles, scattering kisses along your body until he’s face-to-face with you, rubbing his nose to yours affectionately. His stiff cock protrudes from his boxers, and you reach down to palm it, kissing his lips, glossy with your slick.

He moans, rutting into your hand. “You’re a fucking dream, you know that?”

You smile, pressing your forehead to his. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

He stretches his arm towards the nightstand, searching the top drawer to retrieve condoms and a bottle of lube. “Think you can take me?” he smirks, shoving his underwear down his legs, erection sprung against his chiseled abs. He’s bigger than you fantasized; your pussy throbs, yearning to be filled by his impressive cock. You nod dumbly, salivating for him. He scoots closer, removing his boxers, stroking himself rapidly, licking his lips. ��I knew you would taste good. Sweet, creamy. Delicious.”

You giggle, remembering what he said to you a week ago. Spreading your thighs open, you caress your clit between your fingers, watching him pump his cock in his fist. “Fuck,” you moan, growing impatient. “Fuck me, Reiner. Hurry.”

Ripping the wrapper with his teeth, he rolls the condom on his cock, coating it with a generous amount of lube. “Okay, beautiful. I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give it to you so good.” He guides himself inside you, stretching your pussy until he bottoms out. “Fuck,” he drawls, nestling in comfortably. “So fucking hot.”

You drape your arms over his shoulders, holding him limply, already spent from your previous orgasms, still so horny for him. He fucks you, legs coiled around his torso, gripping your waist, dragging your body towards him with each thrust. Saliva dribbles out the sides of your mouth, eyes half-closed in a dumb expression, blissfully fucked. He takes pleasure in seeing you unravel like this, clutching you tighter, increasing the pace. “Oh fuck, you’re amazing.” He holds you close, bucking his hips frantically, staring wildly at you beneath him. “I knew it the moment we met, then tonight at the concert. Knew you were special.”

You whimper his name, squeezing him tighter. “Reiner, right there, right there!”

“Yeah? Feels good?” he purrs, circling your clit with his thumb. “Then come on my cock, baby. Show me how much you love it.” He presses his groin to your pussy, burying himself deep inside you, ceasing his thrusts to focus on your approaching orgasm. Frothy spit drips from his mouth directly onto your bud, smearing it with his fingers. You convulse around him, ecstasy coursing through your body, electrifying every nerve all the way down to your toes. His name pours out of you in moans, skin sweltering against the sheets, dewy with sweat. You’re a sticky mess for him, overstimulated from your three consecutive orgasms. And yet, you’re desperate for more.

“Don’t stop,” you whine, reaching out to him weakly. “You’re amazing, Reiner.”

He takes your hand, holding it to his lips, kissing your fingertips lightly. “You take it so good. My beautiful, gorgeous girl.”

You orgasm twice more in this position until he’s nearing his own. His jaw is clenched, brows furrowed tight, ready to lose it. “Tell me where you want it.”

You blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “On me. Come on me, Rei. All over my clit and pussy.”

He groans, pulling out quickly to snap the condom off, pumping his cock in his fist. Within seconds, he’s nutting on you, shooting his seed onto your bud, watching it trickle down to your sopping cunt. “Fuck,” he moans, dick rigid in his grasp. He taps the tip on your drenched clit, relishing the lewd squelch it makes. “So fucking creamy for me.” There’s a wicked glint in his eyes, fixated on how his cum glazes your loins, and excitement bubbles in your core again, realizing that he has no intention of ending it here.

“Like what you see?” you goad him, dipping your fingers in his mess, stuffing it into your cunt. “I told you not to stop, didn’t I? So what are you waiting for?”

He leans over you, kissing you passionately, grinding his dick between your pussy lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ve got all the time in the world now.”

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun smut #reiner braun x you #reiner braun x y/n #reiner x reader #reiner smut #reiner x you #reiner x y/n #aot reiner #aot smut #attack on titan smut #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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jcwriting · 3 years

Text

Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep. Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense. It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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qslovebot · 3 years

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Midnight Escapade: Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer Reid and the reader have been crushing on each other since they met, but neither of them cared to admit it. When doubled up in a hotel room for the night, reader tries to convince Spencer to go with her at 12:30am to get frozen yogurt to cheer him up and it turns into much more than a snack run.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: Swearing, mutual pining (a long time of pining leads up to this fic), food, mention of Sept 11, 2001, self-doubt, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 4533

The case was solved, closed, and finally, your eyes could rest. The case you had just finished was particularly stressful to not only you, but your fellow BAU members as well. You all hadn't slept for nearly twenty-nine hours and Hotch decided it was best you all got the rest you deserved at a nearby hotel.

The ride there, you struggled to keep your eyes open, but Spencer Reid was on another greatly interesting rant about a show he liked, so you figured you would try to stay awake to hear it. You always listened to him because a lot of the time, the rest of the team dismissed him and his oddly accurate monologues. They grew tired of Spencer talking so much about things they didn't understand but you were rather the opposite- and that's probably because you liked Spencer so much.

The two of you met when he was introduced to the BAU. Praised for his mind, he introduced himself to you with a shaky voice and a meek handshake. You instantly admired him from his geeky personality outwards to his tall, thin self with a face sculpted by artists. Little did you know he did the same, but immediately thought of you as out of his league, so he stayed quiet.

You had been friends since then, pairing up on cases as your minds seemed to work like a perfectly oiled machine when together. Like Penelope and Derek, you two were known for the science jokes no one understood and shared looks of adoration that the both of you somehow didn't recognize as romantic. But everyone else saw it.

Derek Morgan teased a lot. He talked to Reid about working with the 'pretty girl' every day, poking him in the side and messing with his hair. The geek and the girl who was smart as hell, but didn't make it her dominant trait.

A doctor and the outgoing agent who matched the loudness of Penelope Garcia at times at karaoke night. You brought more liveliness to the BAU- more music, more spinning, more levity in dark cases. Spencer was always trying to hide a smile when you walked in, trying to pretend he hadn't been waiting for you to bring him coffee each morning. You didn't need an eidetic memory to remember his order and that, for some reason, always sent him over the moon.

But you were here now, listening to him wrap up his story as you fought the sleep that was looming over you as the car came to a stop outside the hotel.

"-And that was the end of it all. I think it's so fascinating how they wrapped everything up into this intricate timeline of interactions and moments and backtracks. We should, uh, watch it sometime." He said as he hopped out of the back, holding his small bag and yours.

You sleepily hopped out after him, hoping you didn't look like you felt, because you truly felt like hell. "Yeah, I'd like that," was all you could really mumble out. He passed you your bag and you smiled your thank you.

Emily held you up by the shoulders as Hotch sent through the check-in information. "Some case, huh?" She laughed as you rubbed your left eye. "I suppose we can't make this a girl's night of post-case celebration if you're dead asleep."

You groaned, "You wanted to do that? Damn it, Em, I'm sorry-"

"You need beauty sleep, (Y/N). I'm not mad or anything, I'll just take a bath and pull out an adult romance novel." A smirk played on her lips as she raised her eyebrows. You chuckled tiredly. "Seriously, no worries."

"Did I hear talk of a romance novel?" Derek shuffled over. "Which one are we reading? 50 Shades of Grey?"

Spencer stepped in, "Did you know that 50 Shades of Grey is actually fanfiction written about Stephanie Meyer's Twilight Saga? If you go further back, Stephanie started Twilight as written alternate universe fanfiction where the emo-slash-hardcore band My Chemical Romance were all vampires. But My Chemical Romance was started by musician and comic book creator- who published a series of comics called The Umbrella Academy in 2008, unrelated, his name was - Gerard Way, who created the band to make music that expressed the trauma he was given from witnessing the twin towers falling on September 11th, 2001."

Emily looked at him, jaw open. "So Nine-Eleven essentially created a badly-written and toxic sex novel, years later?"

Spencer nodded, eyes flickering to you for a brief moment. Derek grinned at Emily, "So you have read 50 Shades of Grey, huh?" He teased. She swat at his wiggly fingers away as Hotch walked over, brow furrowed.

"Rooms need to be doubled up tonight. Morgan, you can come with me. As much as you may hate it, I feel like (Y/L/N) here might collapse on the spot, so we can't go anywhere else." He handed Spencer and Emily a key, expecting them to make their own choices. Of course, Emily knew exactly what she needed to do when Hotch walked off. You were about to turn and go with her, but she bolted off, reaching for JJ.

You looked up at Spencer Reid who had his mouth in a shy, straight-lipped smile. You both knew what this meant, but you were glad you'd get to crash somewhere, floor or not. The room was on the fifth floor, so you took the elevator with Spencer in silence that you were sure he was granting you until you reached the door of your room.

"I will... take the floor tonight," he said, sticking the key in the lock. "You're tired and I'm just going to get dinner and um... read."

His watch read 4:34 pm- it was so much earlier than you had thought, but you were almost collapsing. "I'm sorry," were the last words you could reply with before you walked into the room, got into the bed, and you were out, cold.

You had never had such a fulfilling sleep. You woke up feeling clean, fresh, renewed and restored. There was no groggy feeling that you had accidentally travelled to another dimension while asleep. The room was dim, except for the lamp that was on in the right corner.

When you peered over the edge of the bed, there was Spencer, laying on his stomach with few pillows under his chest and elbows, a book in his hands. He looked peaceful, quiet, calm. "Spence," you whispered. He practically jumped out of his skin and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." You grinned.

He smiled sheepishly, setting down his book. "You're awake."

You nodded back, "How long was I out?"

"Since 4:34, so... 8 hours and 20 minutes. It's only 12:22am." Spencer sat up and against the wall while you adjusted yourself to sit cross-legged. You were still in your clothes from earlier and it surprised you to see Spencer in less preppy clothing.

Well, less preppy for him. No cardigan, no dress shirt, just a t-shirt that read 'math is as easy as pi' with the pi symbol made of cherry pie and his regular khaki pants. "Aren't you tired?" you asked, smiling from his shirt, back to him.

"No, uh, I actually got about four hours in the middle of your eight. I usually don't dream anymore but I actually dreamt I was falling, which is a sign of..." he stopped himself, but he was with another profiler, what was the use, you could already fill in the blanks. He continued, "Which is a sign of insecurity and inferiority, but I don't believe in dream analysis..."

You furrowed your brow, watching his eyes look down at his hands. "Are you feeling insecure and inferior, Dr.Reid, because need I remind you that 99% of the time, it's your brain that leads us to solve the cases."

He shook his head, "Thinking myself over, I'd-I'd say it doesn't revolve around work." The stutter was back. He hadn't talked to you with a stutter in months, you'd assumed it was just because he wasn't as comfortable around you then, but now it was back. Spencer Reid needed to be cheered up, something was wrong.

"Well you know you can tell me anything, right? I've kept secrets about my friends since grade one, I can keep yours." You slipped off of the bed and walked to your bag on the table in the far corner. You could feel Spencer's eyes on you as you went, so you shot him a smile over your shoulder. He reverted back to looking at his hands.

Through situations and being friends, you knew Spencer was insecure. He was bullied constantly as a child, some going as far as to strip him down and beat him. Disgusting, self-esteem-ruining acts you wished you could remove from his eidetic memory.

You took off your button-up blouse to stay in your white t-shirt that lay underneath. You hadn't the time to remove it before falling asleep. Thinking about that- you probably had bedhead too. Your balled-up shirt was shoved into your bag and you pulled out a brush in exchange, to get the knots out of your hair.

"I could really go for frozen yogurt right now," you said, running the wooden brush through your hair. Spencer narrowed his eyes at you, a little confused. "I haven't eaten dinner."

"It's nearly 12:30 am..." Spencer said. It looked like he was running through his vast mind to find a scientific explanation as to why you might have wanted frozen yogurt at half-past midnight. You let him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pulled the top bit of your hair up. "Are you pregnant?" He asked, out of the blue, entirely serious. Seemed like the only logical explanation he could find. You nearly choked on the air.

"No, Spencer, I am not pregnant!" You laughed. His face tightened as he went back to searching his mind. "I just want frozen yogurt. Regular cravings, not... pregnancy cravings. Are you coming?"

He looked at you, oddly surprised he was invited. "Why?"

"Why not?" You picked up his jacket from the hook and tossed it to him. "Nobody has to see your cheesy math shirt."

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, but went right back to being analytical, a mumbling rant with hand gestures.

"The average half-cup serving of frozen yogurt alone has about 17.3 grams of sugar and plus various toppings, the sugar is upped to at least 25 grams. But, versus a half-cup serving of vanilla ice cream, the sugar is only about 14 grams and with toppings can be upped to about 22. Fat-wise-"

You interrupted him because this was seemingly the only way to lift his mood and he was making excuses to stay here and wallow. "Come on, for once, let's be able to act like the youngest members of the team. Once, Spence. I don't need a play-by-play on how much sugar is in it- though I did find that interesting-I just want frozen yogurt and I would like you to come with me. I'll pay for yours if you want any, just... please?"

He met your eyes with a curl falling down his forehead and quickly looked back at his hands. You'd been friends for nearly a year and four months and he still couldn't look you in the eyes for long. He really wasn't good at refusing you at all, either.

Spencer nodded and you practically beamed. Maybe this would help to take his mind off of what was bothering him, even if the distraction was brief. You jumped on the spot and slipped on your own jacket and grabbed your wallet, ready to go and by the door.

He had a small smile when the two of you stepped out, his hands behind his back. You locked the door behind you and the two of you walked silently to the elevator, careful not to accidentally wake anyone else in case they decided to peer out into the hall.

In the elevator, you turned and looked up at Spencer who was fiddling with his hands. "You look nervous, Spence. It's frozen yogurt, not a pretty girl."

"Well I'm with-" he stopped himself again and actually started laughing his breathy laugh, squeezing his own hand so hard his knuckles turned white while his cheeks and nose went a little pink. "You..." He finished, rocking on his heels.

You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. Though you mentally disagreed with him sometimes on your appearance, you smiled and looked back up at him. "Thank you. You're pretty too."

He shrugged himself further into his jacket, hands still wildly fidgeting. "Thank you..."

You both stepped out of the elevator the moment it got to the ground floor, looking for air that wasn't filled with odd tension neither of you could explain. You two walked through the lobby and into the cool midnight air outside, where things were open, dark, and still.

You shut your eyes for a moment and opened your arms to face the gentle, cool wind that blew your hair and hit your face gently. Inhaling deeply, you opened your eyes again to Spencer in a similar state, but much less relaxed looking. Instead, it looked like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Spence, you look out of it," you said, folding your arms over your chest. You had gotten him outside, now maybe instead of distracting him from whatever it was, you could help him through it. It was part of being a friend- profiling wasn't needed to see he was thinking long and hard over something that bothered him. "You can tell me what's wrong."

He started walking down the street toward the neon lights that shone bright with the word 'fro-yo', you stepped quickly to follow. "If I like a girl.. h-how am I supposed to go about telling her?" He asked, not even looking at you. His forehead was creased and his hands in his jacket pockets.

So this was about a girl he liked. Spencer Reid had a crush. Of course, you were oblivious it was you, but Spencer Reid was romantically interested in someone!

Yay?

An odd feeling of happiness came with finding this out and there was an uprising feeling within you like the first drop on a rollercoaster, but it lingered... and it was much less happy. You ignored it, of course, letting your outer emotions display themselves.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, the human encyclopedia- have you finally found a girl that puts you at a loss for words?" You teased, pressing the back of your hand to your head for dramatic effect, struggling to keep up with him.

His mouth twitched, "Maybe."

"Well, to be honest, Spence, just... tell her. Just go at it- ask to kiss her, maybe, then confess after. Or... or, you could confess, see how she takes it, then you can see if you should or shouldn't kiss her based off of if you get rejected or not." You told him, catching him by the shoulder to get him to slow down at the entrance of the frozen yogurt place.

He was much taller than you, so that came with him being that much faster, but that didn't matter now, he had stopped. Spencer looked at you, concern in his eyes, panic. You smiled kindly, "She won't reject you. I don't know any girl who would even think of it." Reassurance, because he needed it.

His eyes trailed to the ground and he ran a hand through his hair, opening the door for you. "And w-what do I say?" Spencer asked when you both went inside. You were the only two there and the cashier must have been in the back room.

You hopped over to the flavours, "I mean, whatever feels right, Spence. If you feel like going on a long, romantic, poet-written rant about how much you like her, do that. If you're afraid to bore her, you can wait for her to speak, but the truth is if she can't listen to you rant, she probably isn't worth going for."

He evaluated your words while you casually got yourself vanilla frozen yogurt. He also scanned the flavours, probably mentally shaming the company for marketing this as somewhat healthier. You giggled watching him try to figure out how to get the yogurt out of the machine as you put raspberries in yours.

"(Y/N), uh..." he said quietly, gesturing you over. The genius's mind was scrambled enough to miss the lever in front of him. You took his cup from him and pulled the lever, to which he made an 'o' shape with his mouth and nodded comprehensively.

"Chocolate mocha," you smiled, handing it to him as he stood there sheepishly again. "Good choice."

You spun back to your yogurt, adding a bit of honey over the top of it all. He followed, choosing raspberries as well, silently adding them. He still didn't seem at rest with the girl thing, you noticed by the way he was failing to open the scoop-box of cookie crumbs. He had long fingers, usually nimble ones, but not so much right now. Spencer was too stressed to work properly. Error in the system, you may have joked if things weren't so bad with him.

When you were both finished, Spencer tapped the little service bell on the desk and a little woman, maybe mid-30s came out wearing the merchandise of the shop. You both placed your cups on the scale and she weighed them for the price, but both you and Spencer pulled out your wallets.

He put his card out faster, so you swat his hand with your card and paid while he mumbled "Ow..." Of course, you checked to see if he was really hurt, but he had his small, crooked smile back on his face. He was okay, maybe he was feeling better?

Saying good morning/night to the lady, you both stepped back into the midnight air, starting to walk, but not back toward the hotel. You'd think with what cases you two had worked on you'd be a little warier, but with each other, you both felt safe. You walked a few steps, eating your yogurt, before Spencer spoke up again. "Is it a bad thing I'm so clueless as to what women like? Everything I know about women is scientific. Chocolate releases endorphins, flowers are associated with beauty and love, but... other than that... I don't know anything."

You swallowed your bite as Reid took his, waiting on your answer. Just as you always listened to him, he always listened to you. He probably valued your opinion over Derek's at times. You waved your spoon in the air when you spoke, "I wouldn't say bad. Everyone starts somewhere for everything. If anything, a man who is willing to learn is more attractive than one who wings it and doesn't ask comprehensive questions to up the relationship quality."

"Asking questions, got it. Should my confession include a gesture, though?" He spoke with his mouth full. Spencer really wanted to get this right- it was admirable. But there came that uneasy feeling again. It was more like an ache this time. Perhaps it was the awkward hours of sleep throwing you off?

You sucked it up, shoved the feeling down. "Really, Spence, it depends on the woman. Do I know her? Maybe I can help- that is unless you want to profile her to get her interests? I can help with that too-"

"No, I-I don't want to profile her, I want to stay away from that, we do that on a near-daily basis."

"We?" You questioned. Reid froze, but kept walking, looking a little petrified. He put more frozen yogurt in his mouth, maybe to shut himself up. You grinned, "We as in you and her are both profilers or we as in you and I profile others together, so you don't want to profile her with me?"

"I don't want us... to profile her," he cleared his throat. "Yeah..."

You sighed with a breathy laugh, "Good, because I was starting to think you were after Emily."

He chuckled, "Oh, no, not Emily. She's too scary for me anyway. Uh..." He swallowed hard, the way he always did was he was anxious or nervous. I saw in his face he'd come to some sort of conclusion. "Don't... don't yell at me for this, alright?"

"Yell at you? Spence, I wouldn't..." You were confused. He set his frozen yogurt down on the bench he had stopped in front of and stood back in front of you, pushing his hair behind his ears. He looked at you with his doe eyes and the wind blew his curls back in front of his face, he looked to the ground. His forehead still creased between his brows, but his eyes were soft and sweet, his nose was slightly scrunched and his mouth was twisted to the side as if he was once again mentally calculating something. You granted him back the silence from earlier, wondering what was going on in that mind of his. That was... until his eyes met yours and he looked so desperately lost and longing and like he ached inside... and you no longer wondered.

You let out another long sigh. She was you.

This girl that he was trying to understand how to win over, she was you. He asked you because he needed to know what you wanted. He was nervous because he was practically confessing to you and you, a profiler, were too blind to see that.

He watched your face for your reaction, waiting for something good, but you were too shocked to react right. He unfroze, hands flying to the roots of his hair and he spun away from you. He started rambling, obviously thinking everything had gone wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That- that wasn't how I had things planned and I was so certain that maybe you-hm- liked me too."

His words made it true. This was, in fact, happening at 12:56am in the middle of a foreign city. Your words spilled out, stern, focused, serious. "Kiss me then."

He spun around again, "What?"

"Confess, then kiss, remember?" You recounted carefully, looking directly at him, stepping closer.

"But I didn't get to do my whole monologue thing-" He was grinning pretty hard now, all signs of stress removed from his face. He looked brighter than the neon froyo sign, in happiness and disbelief right down at you. You were pretty sure you looked similar as all the pieces fell in place in your mind. It all fit.

"I don't care." You beamed back. "Do it after."

So without wasting another second, he grabbed your face and kissed you. He kissed you with a year and four months' worth of frustration, lust, confusion and past jealousies. His hands holding your jaw, his fingertips in your hair and your hands on his chest, holding fast to jacket. The kiss was a little messy the first two seconds, but every second after it was enjoyable and sweet and oddly powerful. He also tasted rich, like chocolate mocha, but you knew where that came from.

He pulled away first, which surprised you, but he didn't move very far, in fact, he mumbled against your lips as he tucked your hair out of your face. "I think I've liked you since you and I first met. You didn't hate my science jokes and instead of being annoyed with my informational rants, you listened to me. I wasn't expecting you to be so involved with me since you're, well... you're you and you're loud and fun and sweet and beautiful, but we worked so well together how could I ignore what I felt?"

His hand was a little shaky still, but his fingertips on your cheek were gentle. He continued to quietly ramble, "I decided maybe I'd do something with myself that wasn't devoted to the BAU so I thought maybe I'd- I'd tell you this. That I think you're beautiful and smart and talented and maybe you'd understand and feel the same way and now that I know maybe you do, I feel oddly put back to how I'm supposed to be. And... I think I'm supposed to be with you. If this is too soon or... ruins our friendship, I'm sorry and I'll slow it down, but I won't stop liking you."

You couldn't believe that in a three-minute span you had gone from painfully oblivious to so extremely wide awake. But it was in the best way possible after a year and four months of you also being painfully crushed by your secret feelings for Dr.Reid.

"It's fine, Spence," you said quietly, smiling at him with the most happiness you had found in months. "More than fine, I can't believe this is real."

He tucked the other side of your hair behind your ear, "You might have DRC, then. It stands for dream-reality confusion and is a difficulty or inability to determine whether an event or experience occurred during the waking state or whether it was part of a dream. I can assure you that you aren't dreami-"

You reached up and pulled him onto your lips by the back of the neck, smiling into it. This would be the first time you've ever shut him up. He welcomed it by kissing you back again, softer this time. Now that he was sure you wouldn't hate him for it, it felt a lot more natural, a lot more at ease. His passion was still there, as was yours, but this was how things were supposed to be. There was no longer a rush.

The two of you started laughing after it all. Both of you laughed at how painfully oblivious you both were and he went on a small explanation as to why we don't see our own tells and how feelings of romantic relation cloud the judgement. You went over every time the rest of the team had made a comment you both secretly loved or some you dismissed because it was an ache to hear.

Spencer opened up about his fear of rejection and you did the same and that too resulted in more laughing because here you were, so afraid, but you had both been in it for so long. You deserved to have each other after all this time not only because you fit, but because everyone saw it too, far before either of you did.

An innocent, fun, midnight escapade to cheer Spencer up turned into him finding a truly happy state of mind. You took that as a win and success as you tossed frozen yogurt containers in the garbage and found your way back to your room where you told Spencer it was okay to sleep in the bed as long as he was nice.

So he let you turn out the lights and lay next to him, your head on his chest in the way you had done before when it was only an achingly platonic move. He played with your hair, stared at the green walls, ranted about the history of the colour green and soon after, the both of you went right back to sleep, entirely happy.

Tagged: @ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch

#spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminalminds #emily prentiss #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer x y/n #cm #aaron hotchner #mutual pining #romance #spencer reid fandom

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bakugohoex · 3 years

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I saw your post abt Haikyuu requests and by all means I’d read the hell out of any Haikyuu content! I have no specific request but anything with a happy ending and Akaashi, Bokuto, or Iwaizumi would be amazing :) keep up the good work friend 😌💕

“hajime iwaizumi never meant to fall in love with you, but he sure as hell was glad, he had”

paring: hajime iwaizumi x female reader

cw: major tooth rotting fluff

word count: 1900+

a/n: i was going to do this for all three characters but decided on just iwaizumi, i hope you like it love, i wrote it kinda differently to how i normally write but i hope you still like it, and your support means so much to me

summary: in which a timeline of the progression of your relationship with iwaizumi is established from your first meeting to your happily ever after

↞ back to haikyu!! masterlist

Hajime Iwaizumi never meant to fall in love with you.

He would always remember the first day he met you, your eyes sparkled as you talked to him in Maths. You had met out of sheer luck, your seat in front of him, half way through the teacher speaking your leant over, head against his desk looking at him upside down. He acted irritated even though you gave a cocky grin knowing he’d have to become friends with you. He remembered your first words, guess I’ll be studying with you then, it was a coy remark but even then, he watched at how you swirled round to meet his gaze. How could he concentrate with you staring at him. Your head against your hand, you were barely paying attention to the board instead just staring at the boy. He would always remember this day, the day he had gotten another pain in his ass.

He hadn’t meant to fall for you, everyday you’d turn to give him such a bright smile and after each lesson you’d bug him for help on the maths homework. For someone as smart as yourself, he always questioned why you asked for help when you understood the work. He didn't care wanting to get on with his own life away from your irritating behaviour. But the irritation turned into something more, he slowly grew fond of you. Craving each day where you’d turn to meet his gaze, how your shirt had a few buttons undone to let the air hit your neck. He hadn’t meant to fall for you, but he sure as well loved that he had.

It was by pure accident he asked you out. Oikawa had taunted him about his crush, how Iwaizumi would almost smile when you’d walk past the gym, how you'd run up to him in the halls. With those pleading eyes, to help him with something, Oikawa had pushed him to ask you out. He watched as you had a hop in your step as you had walked into the gym, a bright smile, with the papers in your hand. You never came into the gym when they were practicing, it was unusual but when you showed him the 100% you had gotten in the Maths exam, he felt proud. He already knew you understood it, so he didn't understand why you were thanking him, his simple question coming out, we should go out together to celebrate. The chuckle you gave almost made him want to retract his words, I’ve been trying to go out with you for months now, idiot. It was in that moment that those times in the library or before maths when he’d help you were opportunities for him to ask you out insides. It wasn't by accident he asked you out, you had just been waiting instead.

A date with you would never turn out how it was supposed to be. The both of you going for dinner at your favourite place had seemed like the best idea. What he hadn't realised was your favourite place happened to only serve sushi. Nothing else, he was stuck in a place that would consistently bring him sushi when he didn't want it. But how could he refuse, you made towers of the sushi betting him to eat the tower in a single mouthful. He had to accept, he couldn't watch that smug grin you had, you began placing each sushi into his mouth. Every time his mouth widened to accommodate more, even with the success of fitting 6 sushi’s, he was surprised that you didn't want anything else. That a simple date like this was what a complex girl like you would want. His actions next may have been in the heat of the moment, but he hadn't cared, whilst walking you home. He had stopped, making you let go of his hand, you stared at him before his hands grabbed your face, bringing your face to his own. The date was never going to be like any other dates he’d been on, and that's what made it so special.

An I love you, was not an expression Iwaizumi used often, but in a matter of moments. Sitting in your room, your head lying against his chest as he plays with your hair. He felt it, he admired all your features as you played the game in your hand. You had been trying to defeat this one level for weeks now. He watched as you stared intensely at your screen, the way hot breaths of air would spew out of your mouth. A frustration every time you lost, even if he was at peace just watching you cuddle into his back more, the words fell out in an instant, i love you.

A long-term relationship had been established but with it came your first fight, a minor issue that could be resolved so quickly. But it wasn't, he had kept to volleyball, even his teammates realising how Iwaizumi had been distant with you. You had stopped swinging past the gym to walk home, the days without you bringing him pain. Until one day he snapped, you sat in front of him, not turning to meet his gaze. Instead answering the questions, even with you ignoring him, he was still so in love with you. How could he not, with his pencil he had tapped your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around and that is when he saw it, the bags under your dull eyes. The emotions that filled you and all he could say was an I’m sorry, that he never meant the words he said. How much he missed you and loved you, how he regretted letting it drag on. It was your first fight, but it was the start of further communication where he would never let you cry again.

The many years that had followed your relationship, from going to university and passing your degree. Having an apartment and watching as Iwaizumi became an Athletic Trainer for the Japan National team. How could you not be proud of him, every step he took leading to greater success, your own career working out with both of you having supported each other. He knew for months now he wanted to be with you forever, the questions going through his head of how to make it a reality. Until he came home, box in pocket watching as you had come home early, set up a candle light dinner and wore the prettiest dress he had ever seen. He was in a rush to wear nice clothes as well, to sit in front of you as you gave him the food you had made, the food filled with your love. How could he not do it at this moment, watching and waiting as you spoke about your day and other interests that had occurred. He finally blurted it out, the months of knowing he had to permanently make you his, came down to this one second as he spoke the words aloud, box in hand, giving it to you, just as you opened it, will you marry me?

He knew from the very beginning of the ceremony that he had won; he had won in life and he couldn't wait to tell you. He couldn't wait to start a future where you were both bound together happily in love. Your husband had gained everything he wanted with a further confession occurring, he didn't mean to get this drunk, but the way Oikawa and his friends pushed the alcohol into his system. Lead him into a happy state, with yourself being happily tipsy. You watched as even you had gone into a drunken state, dancing with the boys as you felt yourself let loose with your husband and friends. He had come right up to your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck as he spoke his i love you’s and what nots. But most importantly the words he had wanted to say since he had rested his eyes on you, it’s you, it’s always been you.

Babies were never supposed to be scary, Iwaizumi knew that, so why was he so scared at the idea of them? He knew that ever since you both had gotten married the question of having a family had arisen. What he hadn't expected was for the two lines indicating he was going to become a father. The teary-eyed look and fear you had that you both had not enjoyed married life first. But his words of comfort and happiness that he was going to be a father helped you a lot better. He was gaining everything he had wanted, everything he had seen since the first date with you at that stupid Sushi place. He wasn't scared of babies; he was scared he’d be a terrible father.

The day his baby boy was born was the happiest day of his life. Your relentless pushing and swears towards your husband soared through the hospital and at 2:46am, your baby boy was born. Your family had started, he watched the babies frail fingers stick across your chest. Watched at how you cried at the baby you had been carrying for the past 9 months. He watched the happiness and joy engulf you both, kissing your forehead until he was allowed to hold his boy. For once in Iwaizumi’s life he had found another person he loved more than you, his son.

First words for any child were always a big moment, your baby boy playing with some toys in your arm as you waited for Iwaizumi to come home. The cries and whispers to your boy about how proud you were of him for walking to Iwaizumi earlier this morning. The shock of this morning had made you and Iwaizumi gush with joy at how your boy was growing up. Little bubbles coming from your baby's mouth before hearing the keys twist in the house, you gleamed as Iwaizumi walked inside stressed from the day. But at the sight of you two, his face became softer, say hi dada, the sound of your boys mumbles before the words came out, dada. Iwaizumi had been able to witness the moment his baby said his name and he would never forget it.

Family had grown important along the years, watching as your son went to nursery, made friends, grew stronger and smarter. Iwaizumi never pushed volleyball but after seeing the Olympics live and in action, watching his father train the people he called his uncles. How could he not try out, being an instant star in the making, even Oikawa had to admit your son was a lot better than the two of them when they had started out. You had grown proud of this family you had created the way your son would always remain like you both. Annoying but always amazed by any new thing, even beating his father by fitting 8 sushi’s in his mouth. Your son had grown and so had your family, even Iwaizumi had to admit in the years you both had been together. He was surprised at how little had changed from your first date, how you still irritated him with your provocative manner, how you teased him like it was your wedding night and how you still said that I love you with the same manner you had spoken when you were 16.

Hajime Iwaizumi never meant to fall in love with you, but he sure as hell was glad, he had.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac @dai-tsukki-desu @fandomsinthegalaxies @crimsonbows-and-arrows @admin-in-residence

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

Text

“So that’s how you want to play this, love?" | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey My Lovelies! I hope all is well today! I received a request ages ago from @activist-af to do something like this, as you will read below. I honestly aimed to fit the movie night theme in there but it was swallowed up pretty fast! I only meant for this fic to be 3000 or so words but, as it always seems to do, it got away from me.I truly hope that you enjoy this, you've given me an unwavering amount of support these past few months while I was battling a major bout of depression and writers block. I can't repay all the kindness and love you've given me but I hope this is a start! Much love darling! And much love to all of you lovelies! Please have a fantastic evening for me! <3

Please read before continuing: I usually wouldn't write this much before my story but I wanted to add this: this story is my first full blown smut. I'm honestly not sure how well it will go over but I tried to make it as loving and healing as I could. I take my writing very seriously. I know sex for many is a touchy subject, and that truly pains me. I sincerely hope every single one of you reading this feels all the love and saftey I tried to incorporate into this peace. I wish you an eternity of love and healing. Be safe my loves!

Request: "Could u do a mikaelson boys x reader? Any plot really, but I’d very much love it if it was a bit more Kol focused. there’s just such a lack of content for all three of them and I love your writing so much. If u need any plot point ideas maybe a movie night kinda thing? I really hold him a bit higher than the other boys. Or something similar to the fic with the Klaus + Eli being injured? Fluffy ending please, smut is fantastic too 🖤"

Description: Y/n is upset that the boys won't let her come on their mission with them, feeling isolated and useless. Kol is supposed to stay behind and watch out for her however things get heated after she tells him off.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, mainly Kol and Elijah

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! This is a full blown smut, I honestly do not know how it happened, probably 4000/5000 words are pure sex scenes, also there's a bit of fighting/angst at the beginning of the first scene but it doesn't last

Word count: 5343 (I'm so sorry)

Tags: ANGST, SMUT (full on), FLUFF

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

“I really don’t see why you guys are leaving me behind, again,” you run an agitated hand through your hair, huffing indignantly at the two boys in front of you.

Yes, boys. Not men. If they aren't going to treat you like the full grown woman you are then no way in hell are you going to give them any validation either. Even in your head.

“It’s too dangerous,” Elijah’s chocolate eyes are stern, his hands clenching at his sides, “I can’t risk the witches doing anything to you as a way to get to us. You’re too important.”

Your chest warms slightly at his words but it isn’t enough to break down your resolve. Three hundred years under your belt; they’re going to need to do better than that if they want to keep you away. There are only so many times you can stay away from a fight, only so many times you can watch them come home hurt knowing that if you had gone with them then maybe you could have prevented it. You’re a family and you’re tired of feeling like you aren’t pulling your weight.

You narrow your eyes at the tall boy, still not man, trying to peer through all the red you’re seeing, “I’m not a child, Elijah.”

He stares right back, not backing down, his face cut like marble, unwavering. Beautiful but harsh. Stone. He wears a white shirt, the first button popped and the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His veins are prominent and tempting. Elijah means business. You swallow the lump in your throat, pushing away the heat growing in your stomach.

“Love, trust me, we know you aren't a child. Any other time I would gladly rip you upstairs and prove it. Right now, though, I agree with him. You’re staying here,” Klaus’ softer voice pulls your attention from your staring match with the eldest Mikaelson.

He has a leather jacket on, the material clinging tight to his arms, ready to burst. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his crystal eyes. He folds his arms neatly in front of him. He’s not going to budge either.

You scoff at him, shaking your head, “I want to come, Klaus. I need to.”

A new voice joins the three of you in the foyer, “I can make that happen, darling, but you’ve got to stay home with me if you want that.”

You don't even need to turn around to hear the smirk on Kol’s voice but you do anyway, meeting the youngest Mikaelson face to face. He has a grin on his lips, one that, in any other situation, would have you weak in the knees. He has a sweatshirt on and a pair of sleep shorts. He’s on babysitting duty, he doesn’t need anything else. You only roll your eyes at him before facing Elijah once more.

“I’m part of this family, too, you know. It should be my choice,” you have to will your voice not to crack, keeping your tone as low and as steady as you can, “I’m not useless, Elijah, as much as you’d obviously disagree.”

You rub your hands over your bare arms, fending off a sudden chill. You feel like there’s ice coursing through your veins. A traitorous tear tracks down your cheek but you make no move to get it. Elijah’s hardened face softens when he notices.

“Baby, come on,” he reaches to grab you but you step back, not allowing him to touch you.

He can’t do that, make the decisions for you. Maybe if you were still human it would be called for but now it’s not. Sure, you aren't a millennium like they are but you’re not a piece of glass either. You’re strong, whether they want to acknowledge it or not.

“Don’t, Elijah,” you back away further, your cheeks drenched but your eyes fierce, “I’ll see you guys in a few days. Be safe.”

You turn and walk away, ignoring all three brothers as they call out to you, heading up to your room before any of them decide to follow you. You close the door, not slamming it but not exactly shutting it gently either. You can hear Elijah sigh from the front hall and you know he’s tugging on his hair. Klaus swears, his frustrated voice floating up to your ears. More tears fall but you brush them away angrily, lifting a pillow from your bed and screaming into it. No doubt they can hear it but, right now, you couldn't care less. The front door shuts and your heart plummets.

You sit on the edge of your bed, gripping your dark comforter tightly. Usually you like being the one they take care of. You like being held, how small they make you feel. Right now, though, it’s too much.

A soft knock draws your attention to the door, Kol’s careful voice cutting through the wood, “darling?”

“Leave me alone, Kol,” you try your best to make your words harsh but you only sound tired.

“Not likely, love,” he presses, “you know I can go all night, now it’s up to you what that means.”

Your cheeks flush and, as if he can see you through the door, he chuckles. The sound echos through your chest, stirring the remains of anger and frustration and mixing them with something hot and untamed. You pull the door open, coming face to face with the smirking Mikaelson.

“Sorry you landed with babysitting duty, Kol, but I’ve kept myself alive for three hundred years now and I’m pretty sure I can handle two more days on my own. Why don’t you go help Elijah and Klaus, yeah? Seeing as you are the only three who can actually do any good. I’m clearly not strong enough to do anything so I’ll just sit here and look pretty and do absolutely nothing at all because I’m useless. Okay?”

With that you close the door in his face. Well, you try to but he wedges his body in the way so you can’t shut him out. Whatever smile had previously been on his face is long gone and in its place sits a deep frown. His brown eyes ice over slightly and he stands taller than he did mere seconds ago. You can feel a switch in the atmosphere and suddenly you’re face to face. You honestly can’t tell which one of you is more pissed off.

“So that’s how you want to play this, love,” he pushes closer to you, “you want to get angry, yeah? Alright darling, I can do that.”

You open your mouth to protest but before any profanities can fly out his lips are on yours, fierce and strong. He uses his foot to kick the door closed, slamming it into place. It’s done merely for effect. No one is home but the two of you. He spins you around aggressively, pushing you roughly against the hardwood. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, no doubt drawing blood. As if on cue a copper taste fills your mouth, drowning your senses in red. This time, though, the anger is mixed with a wicked kind of lust.

Your hands find his hair without your permission, tugging harshly at the roots. He groans into your mouth, a sound that makes you want to slap him across the face and wrap your legs around him all the same. His hand snakes around your waist, squeezing your hip with a fervour that will no doubt leave bruises that will take longer than usual to heal. He pushes against you, every single part of him rock hard.

“God fucking damnit, Kol,” his lips find your throat with painful ease, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth in a way thats just this side of painful over pleasurable.

Right now, though, you crave every bit of pain that Kol lays on you. In a sick way you’re proving that you can take it. That you’re strong enough to do the things that they do. Another flash of red floods your vision when you think of the other two Mikaelson's who refused to let you help. You drag one of your hands down Kol’s back, scratching hard enough for him hiss against your neck.

He jerks away from you quickly, only long enough to rip the sweatshirt over his head before he attacks your neck again. He sinks his teeth in at the same moment he rips your tank top in half, lulling you into that sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, hate and lust once more. His shoulders are deliciously toned under your searching fingers and this time when you drag your nails down his back you know you draw blood. Serves him right anyway.

“Fuck, baby,” he wraps a hand around both of your wrists, pinning your hands above your head, “that kinda hurt.”

You want to claw the smirk off of his face. Or kiss it. You can’t quite decide. His other hand is slowly sliding up your back, inching towards the clasp of your bra. His eyes burn into yours, the inferno behind them nothing less than intense. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so loud it’s almost hypnotic when combined with the tantalizing draw of his hand. It lulls you into a false sense of security, your eyelids heavy in anticipation. He stops moving when his fingers are about to undo the hooks.

He pushes his hips closer to yours, locking you between his body and the door. His stomach is hot against yours and cut like marble. Your fingers itch to feel every bump and dip with agonizing intricacy. Every inch of your skin is alight, every hair raised waiting for anything to happen. You can feel every breath he takes as if it’s your own, your covered breasts just barely grazing him with each rise and fall of his chest. It’s delicious torture.

“Before we go any further here, I need to know what you want. Do you want some quick fuck that’s going to leave you more angry when it’s done?” He rolls his hips against yours, sending sparks flying through your body at the first real touch you’ve had tonight, “or do you want me to make love to you like you know I can. And make all these terrible feelings go away. It’s your choice, darling?”

His words tangle and knot in the pit of your stomach, weaving through the white hot hatred that had been building in your stomach until it explodes. They hit you right at the source like missiles aimed with the utmost precision to destroy every bit of anger left in you. Tears prickle at the edge of your vision, your senses overloaded from the sudden loss of your fury. All that’s left in its wake is this gut wrenching feeling of not being good enough. It’s the original problem and he just effortlessly broke through to it.

“I,” you tug your bruised lip between your teeth, if only to keep it still, “make it go away, Kol. Please.”

“That’s all I want to do, darling.”

He releases your wrists, opting instead to haul your body into his arms and slamming his lips against yours once more. You waste no time running your freed fingers down his sculpted chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as he holds you up. You push yourself as close to his body as you can get, wrapping your legs around his taught stomach and clinging on for dear life. He kisses you slowly, as if drawing all the negative energy out of your body with his lips.

He walks the two of you backwards towards your bed, sitting on the edge, leaving you straddling his hips in the most delicious way. You push your hips to bring you closer together, wanting to feel every part of him that you can. He meets every movement with his own energy, wrapping an arm around you back to keep you pressed against him. Your body is warming up once more in his arms.

He pulls his lips from yours reluctantly, his hand snaking back to the clasp on your back, “this needs to go.”

You shiver at the light touch of his fingertips on your spine, arching with the click of the hooks coming undone. He pulls the lace from your chest slowly, his thumbs grazing down your arms, memorizing every inch of skin he can get his hands on. His eyes meet yours again and he drops the fabric on the ground next to your bed. His hands, now resting on your hips, trail fire up your stomach as they trace their way over your ribs.

“Kol, please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, reveling in the warmth of his chest so close to your own, “I need you.”

There’s a glint in his eye again but this time you don’t want to slap him. No this time you want him to do heavenly things to every part of you. You want him to take the last remains of this awful feeling and snuff it out with his mouth. His hands finally crest the remainder of your ribcage, his thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts with tantalizingly careful circles. Tears sting your vision again from all the pent up energy inside of you.

“What shall I do, darling,” his thumbs draw along the sides of your breasts, stoking the untameable fire in the pit of your stomach once more, “tell me how you want me to touch you.”

His fingers dance closer to their target, each stroke driving your brain further into it’s Kol induced frenzy. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell is the boy in front of you.

“Kol,” his name falls from your lips in a desperate moan, “please just do something, god.”

He chuckles, a sound that flows like honey and wraps around every inch of you like silk. His eyes sear into your own, daring you to break his stare but you don’t. You can’t

“Well I could do this.”

His thumbs roll over your hardened nipples, as if to punctuate his words, and you see stars. You don’t even try to stop the moans that tumble from your lips, turning to clay in his hands. You give him free reign to mould your body in any way he desires, as long as hands never leave your skin. He pinches each bud between his fingers gently, pulling more praises from deep within you. His eyes never leave your face, drinking in each expression with unashamed greed.

“Or maybe I could do this.”

You know what’s coming when he leans forward, It’s quite clear what his intentions are. However, what you aren’t expecting is for the first gentle nip to send you so violently crashing over the edge that you have to squeeze your thighs around him to avoid falling off the bed. He doesn’t stop when you cry out and you don't want him to. Every swirl of his tongue around your nipple sends you spiraling further into the sweet oblivion he’s created just for you. He rocks his hips against yours while his mouth assaults you, pressing the delicious hardness against you while you fall apart.

He detaches his lips from your lips when you start to come down from your high, kissing his way up your sternum, over your collar bone, before settling on your throat.

“So beautiful darling,” he pulls your skin into his mouth as if he didn't just get enough just moments ago, “so damn beautiful.”

You press down on his hard length again, pulling a groan from deep within his chest, “I want all of you, Kol. Please.”

That's all the encouragement he needs to flip the two of you over and lay you on your back. He kneels between your legs, hooking his thumbs in your plaid sleep shorts and pulling them off much faster than he had down with your bra. He’s more than warmed up now, something that excites you to no end. You’re left laying in a pair of black lace panties that match the bra on your floor.

Kol’s eyes go dark at the sight, a growl that hardens your nipples again rumbling through the air. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling the lace off of you once more and adding it to the growing pile of clothes. He kisses the junction of your thigh next, sending electricity rippling through your body. It restarts the heat once more and the familiar wildfire rips through your abdomen. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to stand many more orgasms if each one is to be like the first.

“Please just make love to me, Kol, I need to feel you.”

He lifts his head from your thighs, a sight that you will never grow tired of, and his eyes set ablaze, “I was made for nothing more.”

Your heart flutters rapidly in your chest, a warmth spreading like butter over your bones. He kicks his own shorts and boxers off quickly, moving back up your body to rest between your legs. You drink in the heat radiating off his body, allowing it to soothe the remaining ache leftover from your small throw down. His one hand slips under your head, lacing through your hair gently. The other reaches between you, lining himself up against your opening. The slightest touch of him against you is enough to have you mewling his name already.

He teases you slightly, taking his sweet time before pushing in. The first thrust is pure magic, filling you in the way that only Kol can. Each of you boys feel different. Kol lights every one of your nerves on fire with his slow movements. He makes you feel every deliberate movement. He makes you know that every circle of his hips, every time he joins you together is done to perfection exactly how he intends. Kol makes you aware of your entire body and just how much control he has over it.

He pulls back slowly before thrusting back inside of you hard enough to rock your bed into the wall. You clench around him without warning, pulling your name from his lips with mouthwatering ease and sending small shocks through your lower half.

“Christ, baby,” he rocks his hips deeper into yours, burying himself all the way inside you, “how are you so close again already.”

You giggle quietly from underneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips and rolling your own to meet his thrusts. Your hands glide over his shoulders, soothing the scratches you left earlier. You draw his face to your own, pulling his lips down to graze yours. You want him to feel every word you say.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing,” the end of your sentence is blurred with unrelenting moans.

His hand grabs your leg, pushing your knee to your chest before pushing you into the mattress with a world altering thrust, “you’re right darling, I just like to hear you say it.”

He closes the gap between your lips with another shattering push, your walls clenching harder than before around him again. You swallow each moan that slips from his mouth and into yours. His nutmeg scent clings to you and you know it will take days to scrub him off of you, not that you want to. You could very well spend the next century wrapped up in Kol in every single way possible.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you with controlled ease. Your hands lace through his hair, keeping him as close to you as possible. Your senses are overwhelmingly heightened, allowing you to feel every damned inch of him. You’re in serious danger of falling apart. The fiery ball in your stomach is at its peak once more. When he pulls your lip between his teeth, and you taste the crimson, it explodes.

This time you don't just see stars, you see the sun and the moon and every planet in the solar system. He continues to move in and out of you, drawing out the intensity of your orgasm as he rides his own out. You cling to him with everything you have, refusing to breathe anything but Kol. Everything in this moment is about him and the way he makes you feel. Nothing else matters anymore. Perhaps nothing even mattered before. All there is, all there has ever been, is this one moment.

When you finally land back on earth, he slowly pulls out of you, giving you one last taste of electricity before drawing you to lay on his chest. Your ears ring from the energy you just exerted at Kol’s mercy, your skin deliciously sticky against his own. You're completely and undeniably spent.

You don’t realize that you’re crying until you go to speak, “Kol.”

You feel the sharp inhale he takes rather than hear it. Before you can blink the fresh wave of tears away he’s flipped you around, laying between your legs again and propped up on his elbows. His face is pure concern, his eyebrows creased together in a way that makes you want to smooth every harsh line away. It makes you cry that much harder.

“Darling, talk to me,” he runs a soothing hand down your thigh, pulling you close to him, “what’s wrong baby?”

The tears pour faster at the gentle tone in his voice, drawing an answer to the surface before you even process what you’re saying, “Do they think I’m useless? Do you?”

Your voice is shattered, all the emotions from today coming together in yet another crescendo. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears, drowning out the sounds around you. It’s probably the reason you miss the footsteps pounding up the stairs. You can feel Kol’s soft caresses but just barely. The only thing registering in your mind is the feeling of being completely and utterly weak. Why do they keep you around if you can’t even hold your own?

“God’s no, never. Not even a little bit,” just as Kol speaks, the door opens.

Well, the door slams open, hitting the wall with a crack that echoes through the large house. Kol isn’t startled. He should be but he doesn’t even flinch at the bang. You, on the other hand, tense underneath him, the pounding in your ears still as intense as before. A woodsy scent flows through the now open doorway, pine mingling with your already nutty skin. The pieces start clicking together, albeit at a slower pace than you like.

You’re almost certain you know who’s in the doorway but you look anyway to make sure, “Elijah.”

His name is a whisper and it gets lost under Elijah's own words, his dark eyes searing into yours, “Kol, do you mind giving us a moment?”

Kol glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. You plead with him to stay but this is Kol, he’s your hell-raiser. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before he stands, still completely naked, and walks out of the room.

He pauses on the other side of the door, settling a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “careful brother, she scratches.”

Elijah shuts the door when he leaves, much gentler than he had been when opening. Your boys, always the ones for theatrics. He leans against the frame, folding his arms over his chest. You stand from the bed, trying to meet his height but failing. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand but it doesn’t do much to clear the droplets. He tracks your every movement with a fire raging behind his chocolate eyes. You’re painfully aware of how much of your skin is on display for him; that is, all of it.

“What,” you pause when your voice cracks, stealing a moment to compose yourself, “what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off saving the day.”

He pushes off the door, taking a few steps towards you. You can see he's fighting back a lot of primal instincts. He's as affected by your lack of clothes as you are. His eyes shift rapidly between his usual brown and a deeper coal colour. Despite the situation, you can’t help the heat seeping from between your thighs. He stops a few feet in front of you. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now.

“I was needed elsewhere,” his eyes dip down momentarily, his jaw clenching, “by someone infinitely more important.”

You watch him squeeze his fists together, forcing his eyes to remain on yours. The determination in them is unwavering and fierce. He takes another step towards you.

“It seemed important a few hours ago,” you drop your eyes to your feet, breaking his stare.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him and, in turn, igniting your body, “I assure you it was not nearly as important as making sure that you’re ok.”

Your throat tightens, aching with the promise of even more tears. You wish you could just stop. You’re not afraid to cry but usually you can control it. Right now you can’t. Everything has been building, every little insecurity has pooled, and today was the chip in the damn needed to make the whole thing collapse. It’s too much.

“I’m not,” you wrap your arms tight around yourself, gripping your arms with bruising strength to try and hold back the tremors, “ I am not okay Eli. I feel so helpless. Everytime you come home bleeding and exhausted and where am I?” You run a trembling hand through your mussed hair, yanking at the roots, “Here. Always just here, useless, letting you and Klaus and Kol take it all for me. Am I really that weak? That I’m just extra collateral damage to worry about? What is it, Elijah?”

The words pour from you, each one making him flinch like he’s being hit by an invisible enemy. Every syllable is a bullet to his chest. His body tenses further, his eyes no longer holding any trace of their usual warm brown. Instead they're pitch black, the veins under his eyes a deep plum. The veins in his arms pop as well, his fists iron tight. He curses under his breath when you finish. His voice is gravelly and scrapes the deepest pit of your soul.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, whatever resolve he had been clinging to snaps. He pulls you towards him, wrapping his strong hands around your hips and lifting you against him, giving you a second to wrap your bare legs around his clothed hips.

“Elijah, what are you doing?” You cling to his chest, trying to avoid tumbling out of his arms when he begins walking you towards your bed once more.

He doesn't answer your question, laying you down against your ruffled comforter, “You aren’t collateral damage, baby.”

His voice is the lowest you’ve ever heard it, emanating from somewhere deep inside him. He opens the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before making it even halfway down his chest. He drops it, much like he Kol had not long before, next to your bed. Kicking off his shoes, he kneels on the bed, coming to rest between your thighs. The heat emanating from you is now a furnace and it in no way goes unnoticed by him. His dark eyes swim across your naked body, drinking in every inch.

“Eli-” whatever you’re going to say is obliterated when he leans down and attaches his lips to the crook of your thigh, dangerously close to being exactly where you need him.

“You aren't weak,” he moves to your other thigh, nipping at the delicate skin and pulling unintelligible murmurs from your throat.

He kisses his way to your center, the anticipation growing like a knot in your stomach, begging to be unraveled once more. Even in the midst of falling apart you can’t get enough of these men. He lays a soft kiss against you, offering you the slightest glimpse of what you know his mouth can do. In the exact same way you had with Kol earlier, every part of you craves Elijah.

Your body arches willingly to meet the first swipe of his tongue, his name falling from your lips like a praise, “you aren't a burden to me, you beautiful creature.”

You cry out as he works his mouth expertly against you, his words humming ecstasy into your skin, melting away any trace of doubt in your mind. His arms wrap around your thighs, bringing you as close to his face as he can get you. The sight of him completely engulfed in your heat is almost enough alone to send you tumbling right there and then over the edge.

“You mean more to me than anything else on this fucking earth,” his dark eyes meet yours as he works you dangerously close to breaking before letting up once more, “and if I have to spend every hour for the next hundred years worshipping you to prove it then consider it done.”

He lowers his mouth against you harder, sucking your electrified warmth with renewed vigour. Your hands seek out his hair, tugging him against you and raising your hips to meet every pass of his tongue. The smell of pine trees and sex envelope you, brining you the closest yet to the kind of high only Elijah can draw from you. In this moment you’re nothing more than entirely his.

“I cannot lose you, baby,” he slips a few of his fingers inside you, “please let me protect you. I need to. Please.”

He curls his fingers just as the last syllable rolls off his tongue and into your core, shattering you into a million tiny pieces. Your hands fist his hair as your body clenches around his hand, pulling a delectable groan from his lips. Your third orgasm almost puts you to sleep on the spot, each of your muscles completely exhausted. Elijah watches you come undone the entire way through, nothing less than reverent awe locked on his face.

He wastes no time pulling your spent body into his arms, wrapping you as close to him as he can manage. You bury yourself against his neck, admiring how even the most unassuming parts of him have an undue amount of strength. He truly is your warrior.

“Eli,” you yawn into his chest, basking in the warmth of his skin, “I can protect myself.”

He tightens his arms around you, “I know you can, baby, but you shouldn't need to. I’ve been searching my entire life for a meaning. A thousand years of trying to be honorable. Then I found you and, all of a sudden, it all makes sense. All the searching and fighting and pain finally has a purpose: to protect you. Let me take it for you. Please.”

You’re speechless, there isn’t anything else to it. His words hit you with immense power, sinking into your skin and settling around your bones. You’re his, all of theirs, to watch over. You really didn't know he felt this strongly. You’ve always had to defend yourself. Perhaps you just aren't used to someone else being so willing to take on that task. Someone begging to take it.

He stands suddenly, with you still in his arms, and walks out of your room, starting down the hall. The faintest sound of rushing water fills your ears, lulling you into a welcome daze.

“Where are we going, Eli?” You have yet to open your eyes, stuck in the soft between being awake and falling asleep.

He kisses your forehead, resting his head on yours, “Niklaus said he wanted to take a bath, my love.”

#the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #kol mikaelson smut #smut

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flightlessangelwings · 3 years

Text

Work of Art ~ Chapter 2/2

Marcus Pike x tattooed!fem!reader

Chapter 2/2

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: fluff, Marcus being the best boyfriend, reader’s boss is an asshole, attempted kidnapping, reader is a badass, hurt/comfort, happy ending

Notes: This part focuses less on the tattoos and has more drama because it’s me lol. Thank you to @we-can-be-himbos for beta reading as always! Moodboard made by me

The sun hit your face as you stirred from your sleep. Marcus’ bed was soft and warm and you didn’t want to get up, but when you realized he wasn’t there you figured it was time to. It had been a few months since the first night you came to his place, and things couldn’t be better. Marcus was better than anyone you ever dated before, and always went out of his way to make you feel special. You quickly felt a strong connection to him for sure, and he felt the same about you.

Dates with Marcus Pike were always an adventure, even if it was just out to dinner. He loved to take you to museums and art shows. Of course he took you by his work to show you off too. He even went with you once while you got a new tattoo. You had even convinced him to get a small one of his own. The longer you dated him, the more nights you spent at his place; not that either of you had any complaints about that.

With a yawn and a stretch you rolled out of his bed and slipped on an oversized t-shirt that barely tickled your thighs. You stepped outside the bedroom and into the living/dining space where Marcus was focused on the stove in front of him. His back was turned so he didn’t see you yet. You saw that he only wore a pair of grey sweatpants and the sight in front of you made your mouth water.

Marcus must either have felt your gaze on him or heard you walk in because as you stepped closer, he turned around to face you. He let go of the handle of the pan where he worked on breakfast for you both and his eyes roamed all over your figure. You felt yourself heat up at the way he looked at you, especially how his eyes zeroed in on your bare legs.

It was no secret that Marcus Pike loved your tattoos. He always spent plenty of time tracing his fingers along the ink patterns in your skin and he always kissed all over the artwork that adorned your body. Marcus was especially fond of the ones on your thighs and hips, since he was the one that saw them more than anyone else.

“Morning,” his voice was still rough from sleep as he broke the silence in the room. Marcus didn’t hesitate to close the gap between your bodies and wrap his arms around you as he placed a series of soft kisses on your skin.

You giggled as you leaned into his touch, “Marcus don’t forget about the pan there,” you said between kisses.

He blindly reached behind him until he felt the knob and shut the stove off. Marcus was too focused on you to care if he burned the food. “You’re a better breakfast anway,” his voice was low as he groaned into your skin. Still, you felt the grin on his lips as he pressed them against you.

“Marcus!” you couldn’t help but laugh at his cheesy line.

He responded with a heated kiss on your lips as he backed you up against the kitchen counter. With his arms around your waist, Marcus leaned his body into yours now that the counter supported your weight. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him in as close as you could as you wrapped one of your legs around his thigh.

You kissed each other sloppily but passionately, and you both quickly got lost in each other’s lips. Marcus kept one hand firmly on your hip while the other trailed down your side and ran over your bare thigh. He stroked the skin of your thigh a few times before he ran his hand up and gave your ass a firm squeeze. The feeling of his large hand on your skin made you sigh into his mouth, and you felt Marcus grin against your lips. The two of you were content to stay like that, or even go back into the bedroom, but the sound of your phone interrupted.

“Ignore it,” you spoke against his lips as you pulled Marcus back in for another kiss. You moaned into his mouth as you rocked your hips against his and you felt the rumble of his low groan against your chest.

But when your phone rang again, Marcus broke away with a disappointed look on his face, “Maybe you should answer it.”

With a sigh, you decided to see who it was since it was unusual for someone to call you so much. Your face turned into a scowl when you saw it was your boss, Rodderick. “Hey Rod,” you put on your fake voice and used the nickname he hated just to annoy him.

“I need you to come in today,” he sounded irritated, but he usually did with you so it was hard to tell the difference. He had no real reason to dislike you, yet for some reason he always gave you a hard time. You did your job very well, and you even got promoted to head concierge in the years you worked there. At least the owners of the hotel liked you even if the manager didn’t.

“Rodderick, you know this is my day off. I can’t,” you dropped your voice as you didn’t bother to hide your annoyance.

Marcus watched your face with a frown as you went back and forth with your boss a few times before you hung up the phone. “Are you going in?”

“No way,” your face brightened up when you met his eyes, “This is our one day off together this week, I’m not giving that up,” you wrapped your arms around him again and kissed him softly. Kisses with Marcus Pike were always just what you needed, and you craved them all the time.

Marcus held you close again as he leaned into your kiss, just as addicted to you as you were to him. But, in the back of his mind, something still bothered him, “You know, I could put in a good word for a job around the office for you,” he suggested tentatively when he broke away, “I hate seeing you deal with him.”

From day one, Marcus hated the way your boss treated you. He noticed it right away, and though he tried to do what he could to help, there wasn’t much he could do for you. Marcus had offered to help you find another job before, but you always turned him down. You told him that it was hard for you to leave that place after having been there for so long, and you finally got the promotion you tried for and you didn’t want to leave so soon after getting it. Marcus understood, but always kept an eye on you regardless. There was something about Rodderick that gave him a bad feeling.

“It’s fine,” you couldn’t help the way your heart flipped in your chest at his concern for you, “Don’t worry about me.”

Marcus looked at you with a light in his eyes as he cupped your face, “I always worry baby.”

The two of you stayed still for some time as you just looked into each other’s eyes. You clung to his shoulders as if you would fall over if you let go. The tension in the air became palpable, and there was a thought on both your minds that hung in the air between you. Marcus rubbed his thumb over your cheek a few times and you leaned into his touch. The adoration in his eyes as he looked at you made you melt and you felt like you could cry from the rush of emotions that ran through you.

“I love you,” Marcus confessed bluntly.

Your eyes went wide as you gasped.

“I know we haven’t been together long, and I’ve been told I move too fast before,” he felt the need to explain himself as he rambled on when you stayed silent, “But what I feel for you…” he said your name, “Baby I can’t help it. I’ve fallen for you. And it’s ok if you can’t say it back yet but I…”

“I love you too, Marcus,” you cut him off in a hushed whisper as you tightened your grip on him. Marcus had told you about his past relationships, and you quickly wondered why anyone would let his man go. But it was their loss, and you found yourself lucky that he chose you to be with now. You were determined to succeed where the others failed, and you knew from the first night that you spent with him that you didn’t want to be with anyone else.

This time, it was Marcus’ turn to be stunned into silence, and he just stared into your face with an open mouth. But he soon recovered and swept you up into his arms again and kissed you like your lives depended on it. You giggled into the kiss as you let yourself get swept away by this wonderful man that you fell in love with.

“So how about we enjoy our day off then?”

The next day, you found that you didn’t want to go into work. You would rather just spend another day alone with Marcus, but life dictated that you both needed to go into work. You both made plans for a weekend getaway soon, so you had that to look forward to at least. And even though you dreaded facing Rodderick after your phone conversation the previous day, nothing could bring your spirits down.

You stepped into the lobby in your work uniform and a big grin on your face. You quickly got yourself set up for the day and greeted your coworkers. It was another quiet day, not too many check ins or check outs on the schedule. This was the slower season for your hotel anyway, so it wasn’t anything to be concerned about. But your mood was brought down when Rodderick called your name from his office.

With a sigh, you made sure the others were alright on their own before you headed into the office, “Everything ok, boss?” you decided not to push his buttons today. You were in a good mood, and you didn’t want to argue with him right now.

He sat at his desk and held his head in his hands, “I don’t ask for much from you,” he sighed, “And yet I’m constantly disappointed.”

So this was how it was going to be, “Rodderick, yesterday was my only day off this week. I do my job well, the owner likes me, I never call out…”

“Yeah, well I still shouldn’t have hired you,” he cut you off, “You and the disgusting way you mutilate your body with those tattoos,” you swallowed hard and tensed your body but stayed silent, “I’m surprised your FBI boyfriend can stand to look at you naked.”

“Ok that’s crossing a line,” you spat back, “My personal life is none of your business, and you better stop there before I go to HR and tell them what you said.”

That shut him up and he dismissed you. So much for your good mood.

The rest of the morning was uneventful, and Rodderick avoided you for the most part. You were more than ok with that though, and you wondered what would happen if you told Marcus what he said. You knew your boyfriend would be angry and insist you quit your job. You also didn’t want him to worry so much about you and put himself on the line for you. His own job was stressful enough without having to worry about yours.

But as you kept an eye on your boss’s behavior throughout the day, you noticed that he was acting strange. Truthfully, his behavior had been off ever since the theft and he definitely was shorter with you since then. But the past week or so he seemed to look over his shoulder more and had more meetings with men that gave you the creeps.

You had a strange feeling something was up with him.

So, when he stepped out of his office for a meeting, you slipped in to see what you could find out. His desk was a mess, but that was nothing new. Quietly, you thumbed through the papers until you found something odd. Near the bottom was the contact information of the man who was arrested for stealing the painting from the lobby months ago.

You furrowed your brows and looked at the computer screens, where the security camera footage was displayed on one. On the other monitor, you clicked through a few things until you found the footage from the night of the theft, and you found that the footage was tampered with. And it looked like Rodderick was messing with more recent footage as well, as if he was trying to figure out how to edit the timeline.

Something felt off, and you quickly pulled out your phone and took pictures of everything you could before you set everything as close to where it was before you messed with it. Hopefully it would be good enough that Rodderick wouldn’t notice that you went through his things.

You slipped out of his office just in time and as you took the first few steps out, your boss came around the corner from the concerference room. He gave you a questioning look, but you didn’t say anything and went back to your computer. As soon as Rodderick went into his office, you pulled your phone out and sent the photos to Marcus. Surprisingly, he replied almost immediately with a text that said “call me.”

With an excuse that you needed a restroom break, you slipped away again and locked yourself in the bathroom at the far end of the hall to put some distance between you and Rodderick. As soon as the door was locked, you called your boyfriend’s number and he picked up after the first ring.

“Is everything ok? How did you find this?” Marcus couldn’t hide the worry in his voice. He knew right away what the pictures you sent meant, and immediately his first concern was for your safety.

“Yeah I’m ok,” your heart pounded with nerves, “I don’t know, Rodderick was acting weird, so when he went to meet with this electrician I snuck into his office and found that. It’s odd, Marcus, even for him,” you tried to keep your voice down in case your boss tried to spy on you.

Marcus didn’t want to say anything to you until he was sure, but the investigation into the theft at your job was not closed. They caught the guy who did it, but there were too many unanswered questions. Even after the agents interviewed him, they still had more questions than answers. But your photos made everything click in his head.

“Listen to me,” he tried to keep his voice calm for your sake, “We’ve been investigating and we think your boss had something to do with the robbery,” he heard you gasp but he kept going, “But we didn’t have concrete proof until now,” he quickly explained that Rodderick had gotten himself into debt with some shady people and tried to hire the thief to steal the art piece to pay it off. And with what you found, all the pieces fit. But now that meant you were involved, and it was the last thing Marcus wanted.

He continued, “I’m coming to you with a small team. I want you to stay away from Rodderick until I get there ok?” Marcus’ voice was serious and you heard the slight tremble in it that told you he was worried. He knew you couldn’t stay hidden in the bathroom, so the next best thing was to act as if everything was fine until he got there, “I’ll be there soon, baby.”

“Ok,” was all you should whisper back, “I love you Marcus,” you added in a hushed voice.

“I love you too,” Marcus replied back with your name before he hung up.

Your hands trembled from nerves, but you had to keep yourself level until he could get there. You knew he would be as fast as he could, so you just had to pretend everything was ok until then. Just before you unlocked the bathroom door, though, you grabbed your phone again and turned on the recording function before you slipped it into your pocket. You weren’t sure why, but a voice in your head told you to do it, so you did.

With a deep breath, you flicked the lock. Everything will be ok, you told yourself.

But the momentary calm soon vanished when you were met with Rodderick’s face right as you opened the bathroom door. You jumped with a gasp before you collected yourself again.

“Rodderick! I didn’t see you there,” you tried to play off your nerves as you moved to go back to your desk.

However, he didn’t let you and he grabbed onto your arm before you took more than two steps. “Let’s talk,” his voice was low and threatening and immediately the nerves took hold of you again.

“I need to get back…”

“They’re fine without you,” he insisted, “You and I need to have a little chat,” Rodderick pulled you down the hall and used his master key to open an empty guest room and pushed you inside. He stayed in the doorway to block your exit as he ushered you into the room.

“Something wrong?” you asked as you played dumb and hoped that he wasn’t suspicious of you. Although you knew that was a fleeting possibility from the rage in his eyes.

“Why were you in my office?”

“I uhh…needed some paperwork,” you tried to come up with a convincing lie.

He paused for a moment, “Then why were your hands empty when you left?”

You took a deep breath, “Couldn’t find it.”

“What about your bathroom phone call?” his eyes bore into you and you suddenly felt so helpless.

“That’s personal,” was all you said.

For some reason, Rodderick’s face twisted into a smile, “You’re a terrible liar. You think you’d do better dating a FBI agent and all,” he paced and you remained silent as you waited for an opportunity to bolt, “Your love life really complicated things for me, you know that,” suddenly his tone was pointed again as he stopped, “I know you figured something out. You’re smarter than I give you credit for, I'll give you that.”

Still, you said nothing.

“Can’t really frame someone who is fucking an FBI agent,” his confession caught you off guard and for the first time you showed a reaction. Rodderick grinned darkly, “I needed the money. I got myself in with some people I shouldn’t have. And because I don’t like you I was going to rig it so you took the fall. Two birds one stone thing. But you can’t frame someone when they’re with a fed all the time.”

“So you were behind the theft?” your voice was weak but you tried to keep yourself strong.

“I knew you figured it out. You acted funny ever since I caught you leaving my office.”

When Rodderick lunged for you, you ducked and ran towards the door. You only hoped that your phone picked up his words as you moved as fast as you could towards the lobby. You heard your boss shout your name behind you, and you ran as fast as you could. He couldn’t dare hurt you while on the premises, but he could easily force you into his car and take you somewhere where he could possibly do something.

Luckily for you, just as you reached the lobby, Marcus and his team burst through the front door with weapons in their hands. He spotted you immediately and extended one arm out to you where you ran right into him. Marcus held you tight against him with one arm while the other pointed his gun at Rodderick, who hadn’t noticed the team yet.

A chorus of, “Freeze, FBI!” rang through the lobby as several agents pointed their weapons at your boss.

Immediately he froze and put his hands up in surrender. But before the agents were able to cuff him, he lunged for you one last time with a “You bitch!”

Marcus quickly pushed you behind him so he could shield you with his body and his team was able to restrain Rodderick in no time. From behind Marcus, you shook with adrenaline as you clung to his jacket. It wasn’t until the rest of the team took your now former boss outside that you finally let yourself exhale.

“Hey,” Marcus turned around and spoke your name in a gentle voice, “You alright?” He wrapped one arm around you and placed his other hand on your face to inspect your expression. When you were quiet, he said your name again and the look in your eyes nearly destroyed him. He had never seen you look that afraid before and he never wanted to see you look like that again.

“I’m ok,” your voice was weak, “Shaken, but ok,” you tried to chuckle, but it fell flat.

“I got you baby,” he wrapped both arms around you this time and held you tight against him, “You’re safe,” Marcus kissed the top of your head, “I’m sorry baby, I should have told you. I should have gotten here sooner.”

That was when you realized that Marcus Pike was just as scared as you were. He hid it better than you did, but you heard the way his voice shook and you felt the way he trembled. He really did love you, more than anything. And his fear for your safety proved it in that moment.

“I’m ok Marcus,” you repeated in a stronger voice, “Can we just get out of here?”

“Anything you want, baby.”

It broke protocol for sure, but Marcus didn’t care. All he cared about was you, so he took you back to his place and made sure you knew you were safe. He was quiet at first, but you knew he was going to ask about what happened, so you recounted the whole experience for him. The whole time, Marcus held you close and kept his gun closeby just in case. Whether it was for your peace of mind or his, neither of you were completely sure.

A few days went by until you were able to get back to your normal self, and Marcus barely left your side the entire time. He worked on the paperwork and followed up on the case from home where he could keep an eye on you. He also made sure that your work was aware you would be out for some time. Marcus sat at his computer with files all over his desk while you were in the shower. He was happy you got back to a somewhat normal routine fairly quickly, and you attributed that to his watchful gaze. Being around him definitely helped you feel safe again.

“Marcus,” you voice cut through his thoughts and he looked up to see you in the doorway in a tank top and sweatpants. You looked better today, like the life finally returned to your eyes and for that, Marcus was grateful.

He stood right away and crossed the room to you, “Everything ok, baby?”

You smiled warmly, the first genuine smile in days, “I’m fine.”

“Come, sit,” he guided you to the couch where he sat you both down and pulled you onto his chest. The sound and feel of his heartbeat was a comfort that helped you enormously in the past few days. Not to mention his warm, safe embrace and his sweet words that he always spoke in your ear as you fell asleep.

“I think I’m ready to go back to work,” you told him as you felt his hand run up and down your body. Your own hands played with the bunched fabric of his shirt as you spoke.

“You sure?” Marcus didn’t want you to push yourself, and he would be there for you for whatever you needed. True, you weren’t in as bad a situation as you could have been, but any situation where you were in the slightest bit of danger was too much for Marcus. But you were strong, he knew that. He also knew that you wouldn’t want to stay cooped up in his place forever.

“I’m sure,” the certainty was clear in your voice.

“Is there any way I can convince you to work at my office?” Marcus was only half joking, “I can put you in another department if you’d rather so it’s not weird for you,” when you were quiet he added, “I just want you safe, baby.”

You were quiet for some time as you thought it over, “I know,” you finally spoke in a whisper, “But I guess I have a knack for investigating though, so it doesn’t sound like it would be terrible…”

Marcus shifted you both so you sat up, “You mean it?” The look in his eyes made you melt and you couldn’t say no to him even if you wanted to. You bit your lip and nodded and he hugged you tightly. “Thank you,” he whispered into your ear, “And no one will give you a hard time about your tattoos. I promise.”

That made you both burst into laughter. It was nice for Marcus to hear your laugh again and he nuzzled you as he kissed wherever he could. It would be a change, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. And with Marcus Pike at your side, you knew you could handle anything.

“I love you baby,” he spoke low in your ear.

“I love you too Marcus.”

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike imagine

119 notes · View notes

chocosvt · 4 years

Text

⚬ pairing: junhui x reader ⚬ word count: 8125 ⚬ warnings: none! ⚬ genres: secret relationship, some slice of life uni moments, FLUFF, very light angst, spice, roommates!wonhui.

✧✎ synopsis: you’re friends with junhui - but also, not really. it’s friends and a little bit more than that. it’s difficult keeping your relationship a secret, especially when you’ve never loved someone the way you love him.

✧✎ a/n: NOBODY MOVE! I WROTE A JUN BDAY FIC ;_; this is really just me projecting all my years of love onto a word doc. enjoy!!

It was midnight, and the apartment was dark, unmoving. No one had bothered to clean the blue cereal bowl left in the sink and there remained bread crumbs on the countertop from lunch. As you flicked through the strange glimpses of late-night television, yawning in an outrageous width, there was a hunger pang, accompanied by an immediate craving for some sort of sweet candy.

So, you did what seemed best: fit into your sneakers and a windbreaker and push open the door to Jun’s bedroom while he was curled up on his side watching his drama. Wonwoo would usually be occupying the adjacent bed, though he had stayed over at Joshua’s dorm to study for his next history summative. Yet he’d left his beat-up, decaying textbook on his pillow.

“Put on your slippers or something, we’re going to the convenience store.”

Jun didn’t say anything, rather he continued holding out his phone, the bedsheets pulled taunt to his nose. Looking at Jun’s desk that sat next to the door, you picked up the rubber band ball he’d been adding to since his twelfth-grade year and threw it at his shoulder.

“Ow!” He squeaked dramatically. His head then poked over his shoulder as he attempted to see where the ball rolled off to.

“Put on your slippers,” you reiterated, “I want strawberry tangs.”

Without much effort, Jun quickly gave up looking for the elastic ball and returned to watching his drama, establishing his comfort while somehow still persisting to ignore you. He was very much so a homebody, and if it weren’t for you guiding him out the apartment like a grandchild taking their elderly for an afternoon walk, then he might’ve never left his bedroom apart from his class schedule. Yet, you knew exactly how to persuade him, weaken his heart that was already soft and golden.

An immediate whine rumbled in his throat when you jumped on the bed, pulling at him until he finally rolled onto his back, at last pressing pause on his phone. You tossed a thigh over each side of his silhouette and gripped the boy’s wide shoulders, gazing unflinchingly past his black fringe and into those big, glistening eyes.

“Come with me to the store,” you weren’t sure if you were offering or demanding, “please?”

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

It was a surface-level question really, but nonetheless, your heart still skipped a beat. In only a second or more the silence was bearing down too heavily and it felt like your heart was a book with all its pages out. Jun’s eyes were twinkling as he blinked up at you.

“Walking around alone at night? Hello? Do you have no concern for me?” Came your joking counter.

He tossed his head back, the black fringe bouncing from his lashes. His capitulating yelp of, “fine, fine, I’ll come” was satisfactory enough for you to remove yourself from the boy’s tiny waist, where you stepped on the floor and nearly sprained your ankle due to that dumb, elastic ball. At least you found it. While you returned the toy to his desk, Jun quickly threw a worn jean jacket over his black long sleeve and didn’t bother bending down to fix his sneakers, his heels jutting out the back.

At the convenience store, the only shoppers were you, Junhui, and this lady wearing a huge pair of sunglasses, though you figured she was far from the strangest of the midnight stragglers.

It was rather quiet, even with the fluorescent lights buzzing and the battery-powered fan keeping the cashier cool at the register. You grabbed the first package of strawberry tangs while Jun sorted through the other flavours very meticulously.

“What about blue raspberry?” He said. “You don’t want that?”

“I don’t know, I just really have a craving for strawberry.”

Jun detached a bright green package from the rack. “Sour apple? What about that?”

“Not tasty at all. Pass.”

He grabbed another package and quirked his eyebrow. “Sweet cherry? Come on. That sounds good.”

You lightly hit his arm with the strawberry candy, your laughter echoing over the shelves, “I just want strawberry! If you think the sweet cherry sounds good then you buy it!”

But Jun just shook the black fringe from his playful gaze, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Tangy zangys are the bottom tier of gummy candy. No way.”

“So shut up then.” The words were harsh, yet your smile was no more menacing than a butterfly.

Since it would be impossible for Jun to leave the store without stocking his snack collection, you shopped for longer than expected, filling a basket with spicy chips and hard candies and a few chocolate bars. Heading home down the nighttime street, beneath the moonlight, the infinite expanse of a blackness that felt like a cocoon, you had already ripped open your strawberry tangs while Jun tore the corner off a tiny pouch of bubblegum poprocks.

They crackled loudly on his tongue, in which he made sure to hover in close proximity to your ear, ensuring you could detect every small fizzle. Each time it warranted you to shove him away, muttering a cheap laugh about how it wasn’t required that he lean in so generously, though you couldn’t evade that one nervous thought ticking at the back of your head: you wanted to kiss him, wrap your palm around Jun’s neck and taste the electric bubblegum from his heart-shaped mouth.

“Aren’t you glad you came with me?” You asked, suckling the sugar off a red candy strip.

Jun swallowed his poprocks. “I guess you can word it like that.”

Standing at the living room fish tank, you opened the tab to the flake box and shook the food into the water, your pink guppy who you had so fittingly named, Princess Pebble, swimming toward the surface in order to nip at the flakes. Wonwoo observed you from his seat at the kitchen table, dragging his spoon through the remainder of his cereal, scooping out the last soggy pieces.

“I feel good about it,” Wonwoo hummed, referring to the history test he wrote yesterday, “I think I might’ve left out some information on the essay question.”

You closed the fish flakes and returned to the table, where you left your cup of tea.

“Eh, who cares,” you mumbled behind the rim, “you’re gonna get like a ninety-five anyways.”

The boy shrugged, pressing a fingertip to his glasses, moving them higher up his nose. He had always been diligent with his studying, though he often left the apartment to write notes at the library or a classmate’s dorm. It was difficult to accomplish much when Junhui would distract him, and rather than reading his textbook, Wonwoo would always end up playing computer games with the latter.

“Did you hear Jun come home last night?” You asked, gulping the rest of your tea.

Wonwoo set his bowl into the sink and filled it with water, smiling. It irked you somehow. You were only curious about whether or not he heard Jun return from his dance practice.

Joining him at the sink to clean your mug, you bumped his elbow. “What’s so cute over here?”

“Nothing,” he hummed dismissively, “I heard him crawl into bed, that’s pretty much it.”

“And that’s funny or something?”

“You ask about him quite frequently.” Wonwoo turned to you with a suspecting glance, one that made you subtly desire to dump a cup of water over his head. “You know that, right?”

The morning air was cool, yet your face felt immensely heated, almost prickling.

“I ask because we’re fri—”

“Friends. Yeah, yeah.” Wonwoo huffed, the omniscient smile creeping back toward his mouth, to which you could do nothing apart from gawk at your roommate despite his reiteration of a musing that wasn’t at all unfamiliar. “I’ve always loved you for your innate sense of comedy. It’s priceless.”

It’s what everyone assumed anyways. You and Jun fought tooth and nail to articulate your friendship, to paint with the colours that would lead everyone to believe it was true. Most often your explanations worked, yet there remained some who were particularly stubborn. Wonwoo was an evident case. But he was too close, too eagle-eyed, and he saw that you and Jun behaved in a manner completely beyond friendship. Despite the likewise feelings, something unbeknownst kept you apart.

“I know exactly what that means, idiot!” Echoed your shout as Wonwoo disappeared down the corridor, hoping to take refuge in his bedroom.

“I’m glad!” The depth of his voice reverberated into the kitchen, and you heard his door quickly shut.

No less than a few seconds later did Junhui reveal himself from around the corner, clean and freshened up after a steamy shower, one he desperately needed upon immediately passing out, sweat-soaked and exhausted in his bed the night before. Soonyoung definitely hadn’t taught their lesson with any degree of ease. Pretending you weren’t just quipping at Wonwoo, you smiled.

“Were you two fighting?” Jun asked, pulling out a frying pan from the cupboard. He usually whipped together an omelette for breakfast.

“No, not at all. We never fight, remember?”

Jun scoffed while opening the fridge, removing an egg carton and a plastic wrapping filled with vegetables. Still hungry, you started peeling open a tangerine from the fruit basket and stood next to him as he organized the produce onto a cutting board. Ever so faintly, you could smell the crisp scent to his aftershave. It was peculiar how a bit of foam could render your chest that cottony.

“In fact, when’s the last time you even remember an argument Wonwoo and I had?” You prodded.

“Two days ago,” Jun laughed, “when Wonwoo wanted to watch that exploration documentary on King Tut, but you changed the channel so you could finish the last season of Home Makeover.”

Pressing his rose lips together, Junhui casted you an innocent glance. “So there’s that.”

Separating a small slice of tangerine, you gently pushed the clove into the boy’s mouth. He smiled softly as he began to chew. With the gentle tang of citrus in the air, you set a hand on Jun’s shoulder and buried your face against his warm neck, whispering, “yeah, and it was definitely worth it.”

Quite frankly, neither you, Jun, Wonwoo, or Joshua were fairing optimally at the library. While Wonwoo sat on the opposite side of the table helping Joshua organize his economics presentation, you were neglecting your biology packet, instead choosing to sketch a tiny Princess Pebble in the paper’s upper corner. Jun had been tasked with reviewing his latest theatre script, yet he hadn’t even flicked through it. He was intrigued by one of the numerous mangas he’d saved to his phone.

“Take the last point off here,” Wonwoo said, peering over Joshua’s shoulder at his laptop, “there’s too much text, and this isn’t a major branch of your topic anyways.”

Joshua sighed as he made a few clicks on his keyboard. “Dude, I don’t think I can edit another word. This class is so boring.”

“Mr. Canning is just a boring professor,” Wonwoo sympathized, “it would be best if it were someone who weren’t so… dry. I guess is the right word.”

Slumping back in his chair, Joshua huffed, “he’s like a human chalk stick.”

Desperate to discuss something that wasn’t related to his lacklustre econ class, Joshua spared a glance at Jun’s unopened script. “Shouldn’t you be learning that?” He asked.

Jun didn’t look away from the phone in his lap. “I can’t do it here.”

“That means he’s going to open it for the first time at one in the morning, the day of his performance.” You chuckled, outlining the sketch of your guppy using Wonwoo’s pink gel pen.

Harshly, Jun’s hand smacked your knee under the table and you couldn’t help but laugh, garnering an over-the-shoulder glare from a student in the corner who’d been trying to focus on their colossal textbook. Wonwoo smiled at them apologetically while Joshua feigned as though he were typing something on his laptop. However, Jun’s hand didn’t leave your knee, and your laughter became an immediate drought, to which the sole thing you could feel was his palm creeping higher up your leg.

Attempting to be subtle, you turned your head slightly and looked at the boy with a bit of a warning expression, though Jun simply continued to scroll through his manga.

“I’m going to check the world history section,” Wonwoo announced, rising from the table, “anyone want to come with?”

Joshua pushed out his chair. “I’ll come just so I don’t have to stare at this shitty powerpoint.”

As soon as the boys walked beyond earshot, you pinched the edge of Jun’s ear. He finally tossed his phone onto the table, though he didn’t exactly appear compassionate, rather he was smirking, for he knew if you truly didn’t want his hand touching your leg then you would have bumped it away.

“You can’t do that.” Nonetheless, there surmounted a need to establish some insignificant boundary, one that neither of you were going to follow through. “Not when they’re so close.”

“But they didn’t see.” Jun replied, squeezing your inner thigh. “It shouldn’t matter.”

“It does. What if Joshua saw?” At that point, Wonwoo was fairly conditioned to your lingering fingertips, grazes and stares. He usually pretended not to notice them. However, Joshua was a risk.

Jun shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t you worry too much? I always touch your leg.”

That was the problem. People trying to convince other people that their relationship was wholly platonic didn’t linger in such an intimate way. They didn’t creep fingertips up the other’s inner thigh beneath a tablecloth, or possess a gaze that traced the other’s lips like a delectable piece of candy when they spoke. There shouldn’t be any whispers pressed quickly against the other’s ear when no one else was looking, or the dire urge to climb into the other’s lap when their legs were wide open.

Both of you were afraid. Neither of you wanted to break the question that would thrust your relationship into the light. You kept waiting for the right time, but it always seemed one step ahead.

The movie theatre was nearly empty as the longwinded credit screen continued rolling, the last few congregations throwing their soda cups and empty packages into the garbage on their way out. Still, the floor of practically every row had been scattered with butter popcorn or melted m&m’s, shiny chocolate wrappers left crinkled in the recliners like the employees were supposed to take them home as gifts. Wonwoo put his hands on the back of his head, examining the disastrous rows.

You sensed he was feeling rather lucky about not being scheduled that night. Jun forced himself from the recliner and picked up his cup of fruit punch, jammed with way too many ice cubes.

If no one else was going to comment, you might as well. “That wasn’t the worst.”

“Agreed.” Wonwoo said, pushing up his glasses. “The murderer’s ploy was difficult to follow at times. I started getting confused when he left his car in the woods.”

“What?” Jun gawked. “That’s when you got confused? I didn’t even know what was happening after the first half hour.” His eyes gleamed in astonishment.

“Same.” You admitted. “I guess you’ll have to explain in the car.”

Reaching into the cupholder, you pulled out the package of strawberry tangs with nothing but a tiny amount of the powder-like sugar left inside.

“Thank you for picking up your trash,” Wonwoo sighed, taking the lead down the stairway while the credit music still played, “I’d hate to be working tonight.”

The wide corridor was completely vacant by the time you exited the theatre. Ever so slightly you could hear the galactic sound effects from the arcade machines. That buttery scent of popcorn seemed to waft no matter where you stood in the cinema. Wonwoo announced that he was going to check the concession counter to see who was on cash, but assured he would meet you and Jun at the back exit. Jun hurriedly downed his fruit punch in a large gulp before you emerged into the night.

You were confined to the small overhang by the doorway, for a hard rain was pelting against the concrete and turned the night air considerably cooler. Not one of you had checked the forecast beforehand, and you would undoubtedly get drenched straight through to the flesh in your thin long-sleeve.

“How are we going to make it to the car?” You groaned.

Pulling up his hood, Jun only laughed. “Now is a good time to be able to teleport.” He then stuck out his hand for a moment, the raindrops hitting his palm.

“Does it feel like bullets?”

“No. It feels kind of nice actually.” He remarked.

Curious, you rolled up your sleeve and extended your arm into the downpour. Jun was right, it felt satisfactory as each of the brisk droplets splashed your skin. However, you prematurely discovered the rain wasn’t so appealing when Jun suddenly shoved you from beneath the overhang.

“Hey— what the hell?!” You squealed upon the immediate repercussions, the cold water already leaking through your top while Junhui slapped his thigh, cackling.

Wanting to erase that luminous grin of his, you attempted wrestling the lanky boy into the weather, but no more than a few harmless drops skimmed his shoulder. Yet, with another brute shove, Jun stumbled, feeling the silver needles of rain pour down from the night sky and swirl at his dampening sneakers. He was laughing as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you hard against his chest before you were even cognisant that an immense wetness was soaking through your every article.

You wished it had been indignance drumming in your heart rather than affection, because it was taking every single fibre of your being not to kiss him. As the droplets beaded down his skin, he was like a springtime flower caught in the morning dew, and when he carded back the wet, black hairs plastered to his forehead, you thought it was possible to fall into him and never feel that concrete scrape your knees. Gently, his hand touched the small of your wet back, his breaths deepening.

He urged you in tighter as his tongue ran along his bottom lip, tasting the rain.

You were shivering, frigid, though your blood was far too warm to let yourself take note. Instead, you moved your head closer, closer, Jun’s cold palm cupping your cheek and your eyes fluttering shut and your soft mouths just brushing together— until Wonwoo appeared from inside.

Instantly, you two pushed away from each other. With his eyes widening, Wonwoo stuttered.

“I-I’m… I’m going to pretend as best I can that something weird didn’t almost happen.” He stated, swallowing thickly. “Just… Why did you two have to get soaked? You’re sitting in my car, y’know!”

At last, you felt that icy shiver trickle down your spine.

“S-Sorry.” You hummed, teeth chattering.

“I guess it’s fine,” Wonwoo sighed, “I have some towels under the passenger’s seat.”

Not long after returning to the apartment, Wonwoo gathered his laptop and slipped into his pyjamas. He proceeded to flop onto the couch to edit his research paper, though it didn’t take much for his eyelids to start weighing down, his dense paragraphs blurring together on the screen. More often than not you would take advantage of Wonwoo’s midnight crashes in the living room.

After exchanging your damp, terribly cold clothes for a warm t-shirt and sweatpants, you found yourself cozied beneath Jun’s comforter for the umpteenth night. The boy’s head rested against the crook of your neck, where his slow breaths were cool to your skin, though they occasionally became heavier when your fingertips stroked at his smooth hair. He was much like a kitten who loved a thorough scratch behind the ears. You swore that he purred whenever you rubbed the right spot.

Holding out his phone, he’d been finishing an episode of his drama before bed. You tucked some of the black locks behind his ear, noting how much it’d grown over the months. Then your gaze wandered over every detail that shaped his face, as though he were a textured oil painting.

His eyes were always glimmering, seemingly innocent and curious, yet you knew just how much that earthly shade could darken when he fell into his professions. When Jun acted on stage, his gaze lost its untainted nature. It moulded into the role of the sinister characters he preferred playing. When he danced in blazing lights, those eyes were sharp enough to consume, to cut, almost like a razorblade.

But then you studied his lips, his heart-shaped cupid’s bow, the small constellation of moles that dotted his skin like kisses from past soulmates. You thought back to the mist and the rain, his hand resting against the small of your back, how close you were to tasting the flavourful, fruity mix of his drink. In fact, you wondered why you didn’t just kiss Junhui whenever you wanted. What was stopping you, in that moment, from turning his head toward you so that your lips could press to his?

Suddenly, the boy laughed at his phone screen, to which you felt the brassy reverberation erupt in his chest, his eyes glinting and his mouth stretched into a box-like smile. You pulled a few strands of hair from his forehead as he seemed to be glowing, his cheeks rosy.

Jun mewled in surprise when your fingers threaded rather tight through his black locks, feeling you tilt his head up until his gaze was burning into yours.

You didn’t hesitate. Leaning forward, you kissed him sweet and slow.

Jun’s eyes fluttered as the pressure warmed his mouth, a small whine getting caught in his throat upon the gentle sting of your hand tugging at his tresses, his scalp tingling. His phone sunk into the bedsheets, and instead he was gripping your t-shirt, moving his head with yours as the kiss deepened. He tasted like mint, and his small whines were silky.

How on earth could you have ever shied from kissing him when it felt so relieving? Nothing else held any significance to you apart from making his pretty lips shine.

However, you needed to catch your breath. Releasing the firm grasp on his hair, you detached your mouth from his, your chest rising and falling in great lengths. The boy’s eyes couldn’t be more glazed, his lips shimmering, flushed garnet and slightly swollen. Neither of you uttered a word. The blankets fell from Jun’s shoulders as he straddled your waist eagerly. Again, his mouth slotted with yours, and your hands slid up his caramel thighs, imprinting his flesh with the curve of your fingernails.

If you kept quiet enough, then perhaps Wonwoo would remain asleep until morning.

Standing amongst the crowd in the cramped performance hall, it was inevitable that you would get bumped around like a tiny, flying pinball. After rutting into Wonwoo’s shoulder for the third time, he seemed dauntingly close to losing his indolence and snapping, though he realized it wasn’t your fault that others were pushing toward the front of the stage and bit his tongue.

It became tradition for Soonyoung and his students to rent the downtown performance hall and host a fundraiser. The event typically lasted a few hours, with a few short interludes where the dancers would retreat backstage to catch their breath. Being Jun’s roommate, you and Wonwoo were always granted access into the small dressing room, and though you never admitted it, you loved experiencing that small flash of pride whenever the moonstruck audience watched you slip away.

The next interlude was closing in. Despite the different dancers on stage, you really, truthfully, only watched Jun. Each time he captured the centre position, you couldn’t help but cup your hands around your mouth, being one of the first to cheer overtop the deafening music as he moved so fluidly, with poise. He was a completely different person when he performed. Somehow, his tender-hearted nature would peel back and he’d emerge a domineering beacon.

As soon as the stage ended, an uproar rippled from the audience and resonated deep in your ears, to which you couldn’t help but slightly bury your head against Wonwoo’s shoulder to muffle the cacophony. Nonetheless, you were clapping, smiling, staring fondly as Jun grabbed his collar and fluffed it out, welcoming a slight gust of humid air. His skin was dewy with sweat, and yet he glowed beautifully, even when he was breathing so heavily through his nose.

Soonyoung was speaking into his microphone, but you missed half his speech, and before you knew it you were being dragged by Wonwoo through the crowd toward the backstage entrance. The room was at least big enough to accommodate the dancers. Jun was in the corner, gulping down his water.

“Only three more songs,” Wonwoo smiled, “you guys really stepped the level up this year.”

It took a moment before Jun replied, the column of his neck glittering as he completely crushed the plastic bottle in his hands.

“Yeah,” he burst out, “I’m freaking dying.”

“It’s for a good cause at least.” Wonwoo reasoned, ignoring how you stepped on his foot.

After Jun rolled his eyes, he was staring at you.

The air grew much too thick, and you had to clear your throat. “S-Seriously, you’ve improved so much. I can’t believe it.”

“Thanks,” Jun replied, scratching his nape, “it’s nothing special, really.”

“Uh? Nothing special?” Wonwoo quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t Soonyoung say you’re one of the best in the class?”

When Jun innocently flitted his gaze toward a distant spot and pressed his lips together, Wonwoo merely huffed, announcing he was going to the lobby for a drink of water. You watched him wind between the busy dancers, either wiping down their sweat or fanning themselves, until he disappeared out the door. When you faced Jun again, you looped your fingers through the satin collar of his stage outfit and kissed him quickly, knowing everyone was too occupied to take note.

He squeaked, “what happened to being careful?”

“This is your fault.” You eagerly pinned it on him. “Try being less hot.”

“That’s horrible advice. And also not possible. Which makes it worse than horrible.”

You weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to feel his mouth again or whack the side of his head with his deflated water bottle. Opting for latter, you stole another kiss, though you tensed in surprise when Jun wrapped his arm around your waist to secure your body firm against his. Hastily, you pushed at his toned stomach, your heart drilling manically as you looked over your shoulder toward the dancers. It didn’t appear as though anyone had seen and you breathed out in relief.

Suddenly, Soonyoung poked his head through the doorway.

“Ten minutes!” He shouted before disappearing.

Jun was staring at you with the most ingenious twinkle.

“That was your fault.” He purred, tapping your thigh with his water bottle. “Try being less hot.”

You did feel a small sliver of guilt. After all, Wonwoo had been waiting back at the apartment for approximately an hour, twiddling his thumbs, wondering why you and Jun required so much goddamn time just to buy some hot fudge sundaes. The molten taste of the chocolate, the vanilla ice cream, cold and sweet, was completely stolen from your lips by the boy whose lap you were occupying. Wonwoo’s sundae sat on the dashboard, dripping slowly beneath the evening sunlight.

And yet, that infinitesimal sliver was plucked straight out when Jun latched onto a sensitive patch of your neck, softly digging in his teeth and swirling his tongue. Your fingers sheathed through the black hair and pulled up at the roots, knowing how much pleasure he took from the dull sting. Button by button, Jun started to simultaneously open your shirt, to which you questioned if this was really happening, if you were really going to sort of out the complications of intercourse in his car.

The device abandoned in the passenger’s seat buzzed. You already knew the name to the text. As Jun kissed his way down to your collarbone, licking and suckling, you reached for your phone, feeling it buzz again with another impatient text. The guilt from earlier began to resurface.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] This is suspicious now. WHERE ARE YOU? >:(

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] Actually screw that. WHERE IS MY HOT FUDGE SUNDAE?

The screen blipped with yet another message.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] I know you’re reading these… Answer me or I won’t feed Princess Pebble!!

“J-Jun,” you piped up, hearing his low, husky mumble while he continued to mark your collarbone, “I think we need to go home now.”

The boy splayed a few more open-mouthed kisses against the skin before peeking up at you, his eyes wide and glimmering, lips flushed a deep magenta. With half the buttons of your shirt hanging open and your heart blazing, you had to snip the venereal longing in its bud.

“What’s wrong?” Jun hummed, pushing his fingers through the loops on your jeans. “Who’s texting?”

“Wonwoo. He’s been waiting for almost an hour, and his sundae is gonna be a puddle at this rate.”

He blinked a bit cluelessly, though still in musing. “There’s no way to be quick about this, is there?”

Rebuttoning your shirt, you shook your head and laughed. “Let’s wait before we ruin the car. I’m sure there’ll be a better time in the future.”

Jun nodded in agreement and relaxed back into the seat, a ray of sunshine that bled golden slanting through the windshield. Somehow, Wonwoo’s sundae wasn’t a complete pool sitting in the plastic cup, but that didn’t negate the fact he was still going to start his theory on responsibility and trust the moment you stepped onto the welcome mat. As you finished clasping the last buttons, something had caught Jun’s eye out the window, for he immediately panicked and tightly gripped your waist.

“Oh my god, g-get off my lap,” he grunted, to which your head bumped against the ceiling during the hurried shuffle and your knee whacked the gearstick.

“Ow! Okay, I’m going! Jeez, could you not give me a warning?”

“No,” Jun remarked, looking quickly to the rear-view mirror to straighten out his hair, “it’s Jeonghan and Soonyoung. They just came out of the store.”

When you glanced out Jun’s window, you noted the duo making their way across the parking lot, some plastic bags filled with groceries hanging from Jeonghan’s hand while Soonyoung appeared to be texting someone. To both your dismay, Soonyoung immediately recognized Jun’s car. You watched as the blonde bumped Jeonghan’s shoulder, how they took a slight detour on their way over.

“We have to talk to them?” You whined. “Are you kidding? Lock your window.”

Jun’s brow pinched together. “How is that going to help? They already saw us so just relax.”

“You’re telling me to relax? You practically threw me off your la—”

“Shht,” Jun snapped as the two boys drew nearer, “just shhhhht okay?” And with an incredibly large gulp, he plastered a happy-go-lucky smile to his mouth and let the window slide open.

“Jun?” Soonyoung called, leaning down slightly to peer inside the vehicle. “What’re you doing out here, huh? Back from shoplifting?”

Jeonghan bent down too, grinning snidely. “You looked a little frazzled or something.”

“Me?” Jun pointed at himself. “No, I’m fine. Just – we have to leave. Wonwoo is waiting.”

“Wonwoo?” Jeonghan seemed excited. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Hey, tell him I’m still appreciative for writing my World History paper on the Persian Empire.”

You knew it was best to stay quiet, but you couldn’t help your slight choke. Wonwoo had come home one day saying that one of his classmates offered him seventy-five bucks if he’d write their history paper. He wasn’t going to oblige originally, but cracked after listening to his classmate type out their introduction in the library, that it was just so bad Wonwoo felt piteous and decided to pitch in.

Gaping at Jeonghan, you exclaimed, “that was you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I still dropped that class. And Wonwoo definitely thinks I’m a dumbass. But I didn’t have to do a spot of work, and now I’m getting smooth nineties in English. You just have to make up some shit and do a couple fancy indents and you’re set.”

Jeonghan paused, then leaned in a little further to look you up and down. “Y’know, I’ve never seen you before. How easily do you give out your numbe—”

“We really have to go,” Jun interrupted, already clicking the button to roll up the window, “see you at practice, Soonyoung. Bye Jeonghan!”

The two boys didn’t really have any other option apart from stepping back, allowing Jun to exit the parking space and turn onto the road. Not that it would help much, you turned on the air conditioning until it felt like the wind was pure ice, hoping that you’d be able to preserve Wonwoo’s melting fudge sundae. You made sure to text him on your whereabouts, that you were heading home, and churned up a white lie about how you ran into Jun’s friends who held a persistent conversation.

It wasn’t entirely false. And yet, Wonwoo still managed to see through it.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Just say you were making out.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Btw, I fed Princess Pebble.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: I’m not a sinner. Unlike you guys.

Later that evening, after delivering Wonwoo his melted cup of chocolate ice cream, after Jun quickly threw some extra clothes into his backpack and ran to his late-night dance practice, you were standing at the fish tank with some new plants you bought for your guppy. As the bright lights of the tank reflected across your face, there was a strange feeling inside you. It seemed like turbulence, confusion, your heart experiencing one sentiment but your brain thinking another.

You hadn’t realized you were absently standing there until Wonwoo came into the dark living room, holding a crumpled tube of toothpaste and his toothbrush. Watching the pink fish swim in between her new seaweed arrangement, he asked you if there was an extra tube stored in your bedroom.

“Don’t think so. Text Jun and ask him to stop at the store when his practice ends.”

“I’ll do that…” Wonwoo sighed. “Hey, you know I already fed Princess Pebble?”

He accompanied you at the tank. For some reason, you refused to look at Wonwoo. You felt unusually vulnerable, like a fragile shell that could be cracked open even by the gentlest hands, and the more you thought into your emotions, the harder your heart started pounding.

“I-I know,” you smiled weakly, “but I got her some new plants today. I just put them in.”

Wonwoo could always tell when something was off-kilter. You almost hated how sharp his senses were, that he was able to detect with such accuracy how you were being eaten up inside. Softly, he touched your shoulder, urged you to turn toward him so he could see the honest colour in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned, pushing up the bridge of his glasses.

You felt terrified, but there was no sense in pretending.

“How do I tell Jun that I’m in love with him? That I don’t want us to be a secret anymore?”

It was a weighted question, and you knew that. But it was also the truth. As much as it could be invigorating to maintain a secret relationship, you were beginning to feel the brittle side effects that came with keeping such love behind closed doors. You didn’t want Jun to push you from his lap just because his friends might’ve seen you, nor did you want to keep an eye out for whether or not you should knock his hand off your thigh in public. The secrecy had been fun, but it wasn’t enough.

Scratching the blue collar of his shirt, Wonwoo appeared uncertain.

“I’m not sure, honestly. I just think you shouldn’t repress this. You need to be upfront.”

“How?” It sounded like a desperate plead. “I don’t know how, Wonwoo.”

“Stop overthinking it,” the boy advised, grabbing onto your shoulders and giving your frame a small, grounding shake, “you know Jun. You know he isn’t a rash person. You know if you tell him he’ll hear every word of it. It doesn’t take a genius to see you’re all he thinks about.”

Wonwoo brushed at the side of your cheek with his thumb. “Don’t hurt yourself like this, okay? The next time you’re alone, just say how you feel. I promise it won’t be as bad as you’re hypothesizing.”

You inhaled a deep breath and nodded. Overthinking was a poison to you. It shouldn’t be that difficult to be honest, especially when you knew how attentive Jun was, the manner in which he always adapted himself to be of a comforting presence.

“Okay,” you attempted to draw together some confidence, “I’ll do that.”

“Good.” The boy grinned, still fiddling with his empty tube of toothpaste. “It really doesn’t bother me that you guys run around together. Just… please… never do anything weird in my bed.”

The next time you were alone with Jun, it was all but a desirable circumstance. Once you came home from work and heated up some leftover dinner in the microwave, you decided to feed Princess Pebble, though your jaw unhinged as you noticed something a little unorthodox about her tank: a pink blotch floating against the surface of the water. Immediately, the tears welted hot and stinging against your eyes. You had to use the small net to scoop your guppy out from the water.

Remarkably, Princess Pebble had lived a long life for a fish. You remembered walking with Jun to the pet store one summer afternoon, after you two finished your last day of eleventh grade and had just escaped a brutal chemistry exam. Rather than studying beforehand, you spent ample time researching different types of fish, and would often send Jun pictures asking him to choose which one he thought was cutest. Yet, at the end of it all, you chose a guppy with the prettiest pink scales.

“Don’t most people want a puppy? A kitten? And you choose a boring fish.”

Jun had teased, sounding awkward and a bit lisped through his braces.

Somehow, Princess Pebble had managed to live a five-year lifespan. Wonwoo told you most guppies live for two years, three years if the owner takes good care. Sitting at the kitchen table, you placed her body onto a piece of paper towel, the thick tears dripping down your cheeks while your sinuses grew wet and congested. You didn’t know if it was petulant to be your age, crying over a pet fish. In fact, you didn’t even possess the heart to rise from the table and discard her body.

It wasn’t much longer until Jun returned home after his theatre class, to which you heard his key rattling in the lock. Wonwoo was scheduled for a shift at the cinema, most likely handing out overpriced popcorn and chocolate and having to reject every person who asked for his number.

“Hey,” he called, shouldering off his backpack, “Wonwoo texted me. That weird thriller we were looking at is playing next week. We should—,”

Jun paused the moment he heard your runny sniffling. He didn’t realize that your fish was sitting on the paper towel until he took a few steps closer. You felt embarrassed Jun had to see you like this. If you were crying, it had always been over something with a little more gravity, like the time you were distraught about flunking your laboratory practical, and Wonwoo couldn’t persuade you to open your bedroom door no matter how frequently he stood outside, pleading.

Plucking at the collar of your shirt, you used the fabric to clear away the tears. Without a word, Jun grabbed another chair from the dining table and pulled it next to you, scooting in close. As soon as you felt his arm drape around your shoulders, it was like someone had pulled the plug on a bathtub filled with water, to which you pressed your face against his neck and sobbed harder.

“I’m so sorry.” Jun whispered, hugging you tight to his comfortable chest. “It’s okay to be upset. I know how much she meant to you.”

He drew soothing strokes down the back of your head, and he sat with you until those wet pearls ran dry with salt. You knew it wasn’t wise to keep her body out in the air, that you would have to discard her somehow, yet the thought of having to flush her away seemed too cruel. Jun wiped the soft glisten from your cheeks with his sleeve, his fingers then tracing up and down the side of your face.

“I-I don’t want to flush her.” You blubbered.

The boy shook his head. “We won’t do that. We’ll find a good way to handle it.” His thumb brushed tenderly below the fragile skin of your eye for a moment, and he seemed to be in musing.

“Wait here.” He announced, suddenly running into his bedroom.

You could hear Jun shuffling through his closet, moving around clothing hangers and pushing aside boxes still filled with some of his old belongings from homelife in Shenzhen. When he remerged into the living room, he was holding a particular tissue box, one that you hadn’t seen since twelfth grade biology. You, Jun, and Wonwoo had painted and decorated the box as part of an optional project, to see if you could grow any plants from the packets of radish and tomato seeds your teacher had.

Nothing ever grew. Wonwoo claimed there had been some green sprouts when it was his turn to look after the makeshift garden, but that his cat snuck into his room and ate them all. Jun always kept a multitude of random things that dated back to your adolescence. As awkward and bumpy as those times were, seeing the tissue box reminded you that there had been precious moments too.

“Why do you still have that?” You laughed, even if your chest was aching.

“Because that was the first time us three did something together.” Jun said, returning to his seat beside you. “It was one of the first memories I made after moving away from home.”

You fondly looked at Jun while pulling the tissue box toward you, slathered in old, chipping acrylic paint and obnoxious, starry glitter.

Licking the dry salt off your lips, you smiled. “Princess Pebble would love this.”

“It can be her shrine. When Wonwoo comes home, we can find a good place to bury it.” Jun explained. “I know I called her boring five years ago, but I didn’t mean it. I loved her too.”

In the pensive silence, you thought back to your conversation with Wonwoo, recalling his firm grip on your shoulders as he reiterated the importance of freeing your heart, of not bogging yourself down with too many untold truths. Then, you glanced at Jun. You thought about that fluttering feeling when you kissed him, when you ran your fingers through his hair, listening to his deep-chested laughter whenever he gleefully buckled over into your lap after telling one of his hit-or-miss jokes.

The boy tensed slightly as you pulled him into a hug, though he quickly came to ease and warmth. You thanked him, because it just felt like the right thing to do for his compassion.

And then you told him something else.

“I love you.”

Without missing a heartbeat, he murmured against your hair, “I love you too.”

It was late, unreasonably late, the past-midnight late where the entire world falls still like an unperturbed pond. Downtown was completely hushed. Every so often the wind picked up, though it inevitably withered away in between the buildings and emerged a pitiful whistle onto the street. And yet, despite the fact you should be tucked in bed while the moon protected the silence in her silver hands, you were pushing outside the convenience shop with Jun close behind.

He took the end of a straw into his mouth and slurped at the sweet, cherry-flavoured slushie that was beginning to empty. Immediately, he crinkled his forehead and his face contorted.

“How many times have I said not to do that?” You laughed as he passed you the slippery cup.

“I don’t know. Three?” Jun replied with a grimace. “I can really feel it. Wait, I need a moment.”

You stopped next to the traffic post at the end of the street. Jun grabbed at his hair and squeezed like it was some miraculous remedy for curing a brain freeze. Directing the straw into your mouth, you sucked up the cherry syrup and crushed ice until you felt the distant ache thrum inside your head.

“Okay…” Jun concluded, brushing the long, black fringe from his eyes, “I’m good now.”

Thrusting the drink back into his hands, you couldn’t help but huff: “you’re such a baby.”

As though to prove your point, Jun started whining. “My head is so, so cold. It’s freezing.”

“So put this up or something.” You teased, reaching around the back of his neck to pull the boy’s hood over his head. Giggling slightly, you grinned at him as he shot you a questionable glance.

The streets remained quiet, and the sky was remarkably clear, no more than a few ragged and thin clouds drifting over the stars. The last time you had been on this corner, you were licking the strawberry sugar off your fingertips while Jun crumpled his last packet of popping candy. You remembered tracing the rose tint that warmed his lips, each fibre in your muscle twitching because you just wanted to wrap a hand through his locks and kiss him like he was your last breath.

You didn’t understand how you could love one person so much. Why love often fused itself into your bloodstream more than functionality. Your heart knew how to beat, yet it stumbled whenever you gazed at him. Your lungs knew how to filter the air, yet they closed up whenever you caught his eye. Your tongue knew how to articulate, yet it tied itself in a knot the moment he’d touch you.

“Hey,” you mumbled, patting his arm, “can I ask you something?”

Jun looked away from the stars, sipping at his drink again. He nodded.

The moon probably wanted to crush your heart in her hands for how loudly it was thumping.

“What if I told you that I want people to know we’re together? What would you say?”

Despite your anxiousness, you weren’t as afraid as you anticipated. Maybe it was because Jun didn’t immediately sour or attempt to disparage your sentiments. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he blinked at you, but it didn’t matter. When it was most important, Jun picked his words carefully.

“I’d tell you that I want the same thing,” he admitted, his tone deepening and the amber in his cheeks sparked with pink, “that I want people to know how I feel about you… That I’ve always been in love with you.”

You smiled wide, like a kid who just got their braces off. Unable to contain such a rapturous energy, you stepped in close to Jun and held onto his shoulders, dotting the corners of his mouth with small kisses before you pressed your lips against his. You felt him smirk, though it seemed too devious. Jun had suddenly wrapped his arms around your lower back, pushing you in chest-to-chest. You melted as he kissed you, your fingertips ghosting along the soft hairs at his nape, the moonlight on your skin.

When you arrived back at the apartment, you could hear a few of Wonwoo’s gentle snores echo from behind the bedroom door. Just before you slipped away into your own room, Jun left a goodnight kiss to the top of your head, his hand thoughtfully squeezing your hip.

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

You finally knew what you should have said.

“Because I love you.”

✧✎ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET PRINCE!! never would i have imagined that someone who’s on the opposite side of the globe could mean so much to me ;_; mr. moon has been such a healing presence, and it’s bc of him that i have found so much happiness these past five years! whenever i see him smiling and laughing and have good ol times just being himself, all my worrisome thoughts somehow fade away and i feel only joy!!

anyways, i don’t want to ramble for too long (i could really fill a page with my cloying sentiments r.i.p) but i hope this was a wholesome fic!! the stars aligned and for once i was able to write a fic for a member’s birthday :_)

#svt fanfic #jun scenarios #seventeen scenarios #jun fic #seventeen fics #seventeen imagines #jun imagine #jun x reader #svt x reader #wen junhui #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #junhui scenarios #jun fluff #junhui fic

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marauders-venting · 3 years

Text

I Know Him

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)

genre: murder mystery fluff

warnings: several mentions of murder, child abuse, blood (stabbing and bullet wounds), hints at homophobia, hints at sex

words: 4447

a/n: this is a switching fandoms fic with harry potter characters in the sherlock holmes universe. In this fic remus is holmes and sirius is watson. I have kept certain aspects that i thought were important about remus and sirius’ personalities but i had to give them some of holmes and watson’s personality traits for the fic to make sense.

also just so you know I based this fic off the original sherlock holmes books only. I have never seen the tv shows or film adaptations but i’ve heard they are very different from the books.

It was a chilly Saturday afternoon and Remus and I were sitting together in an armchair by the window. He was reading a book but I simply stared absent-mindedly. At Remus, at the street outside, at the dust in our apartment catching the light. But mostly at Remus. Suddenly, I caught sight of a flurry of movement outside. A woman bundled up in scarves was running down the street looking flustered.

“Remus,” said I, as I watched the woman scan the numbers on the building and near our apartment, “if I am not very much mistaken, the very thing you have been craving for the past week is approaching right now.”

“A client, you say?” said Remus, laying down the paper. “About time!” His eyes lit up with excitement and I scrambled out of his lap just as a knock sounded on the door.

“Mr Lupin?” said Mrs Hudson, the landlady. “I have a Miss Anne Robinson here to see you.”

“Yes, yes let her in,” replied Remus impatiently. Within a few seconds, Mrs Hudson had returned, leading a friendly-looking, middle-aged woman into the living room. Miss Robinson had a cheerful face with wrinkles next to her eyes that come from smiling and yet she looked sullen and tired, as do many of the people who visit our rooms at 221B Baker Street to seek professional help from Remus.

“Pray take a seat, Miss Robinson and tell me your story,” said Remus eagerly. “I have had no other cases to occupy me for the past week and would be glad for a problem of any kind. You are a cook, I presume?” The woman looked startled.

“Why, yes, Mr Lupin,” she said. “I work as a cook for the Wright family. But how could you have known that?”

“It is of no importance, I assure you. I simply noticed the soup stain on your dress,” said Remus. I could hear the slight note of impatience in his voice. However, I doubt anyone but I could have noticed it.

“How very clever of you,” said Miss Robinson, smiling at him. Remus brushed the compliment aside with a gesture of his hand.

“Now what is the case that you have brought for me today?” he asked.

“Well, Mr Lupin,” began the woman, “just three days ago, tragedy struck the Wright family. I spoke to Dr Wright and he agreed that it would be best to bring the case to you. I should probably begin by explaining to you the history of the household. Mr and Mrs Wright were very fitting for one another; they loved each other very much. When they decided to have children, Dr Wright hoped against hope that the child would be a boy. He desperately wanted someone to carry on the family name and honour. Poor Mrs Wright died in childbirth and Dr Wright heavily mourned her loss. To add to the trouble, little Mary Wright was not the boy her father had hoped for. Regardless, he learned to love his daughter and cared for her always; I would even venture to say he spoiled her a bit too much, although she turned out to be a lovely, modest young lady. And the spitting image of her dear mother she was too! Never saw a girl resemble her mother more than Mary resembled Mrs Wright.”

Miss Robinson smiled serenely at the thought of the mother and daughter together but then, her mouth turned down at the corners and her eyes became watery. She blinked several times and shivered slightly before continuing with her narrative.

“Anyway,” she continued, her voice shaky and unstable, “this is where I come to the crime. Just three days ago, at 9:30 on Wednesday night, Mary and her fiance, Charles, were found dead in Mary’s bedroom. He was stabbed right in the heart and she was shot in the head. The police have their suspect and I must say that the evidence against him is quite startling, that is to say, it seems like a finished case. But I thought I had better come to you sir, for I have the strangest feeling that the police have got it all wrong and I always trust my instincts, Mr Lupin.”

“Who is this suspect and what evidence do the police have against him?” asked Remus.

“His name is Joseph Williams, sir. He is a servant of the Wrights. He was found bending over the body of Charles after a gunshot was heard. When the other servants arrived, myself included, and called out his name, a triumphant smile rested on his face, his eyes ablaze, alive.” Miss Robinson shuddered. “The mere thought of his face chills me to my very core. I don’t know why I believe him to be innocent, sir, he seems perfectly capable of committing so horrible a crime. He has confessed to the police to have loved Mary ever since he first laid eyes on her. This would, of course, explain why he would have killed her fiance. The police think that he killed Mary because he was angry with her for not requiting his love but he denies all claims. He says he would never have touched a hair on her head. And as for Charles, he says he would have very much liked to kill him but that he did not do anything of the kind.”

“Were the weapons for the crime found?” asked Remus.

“The gun was in plain sight, thrown on the floor right beside the two. But the knife has not been located.”

“And I suppose the crime scene has not been preserved if the crime happened three days ago?”

“No sir. They moved the bodies on Friday morning.”

“Very well,” said Remus, straightening up. “Then I shall like to interview the other servants and Dr Wright if possible.”

“I shall speak to him, Mr Lupin. Perhaps you could come around to the house tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, I think I shall,” replied Remus. “Alright then, I just have one question before you leave, Miss Robinson. What hotel was Dr Wright staying at that night and why was he out of town?”

“How the deuce did you know he was out of town?” asked Miss Robinson, her brows raised and her eyes wide.

“It was quite simple, really. You never mentioned anything about how he ran into the room and cried out at the sight of the couple’s dead body or anything about how he slept so heavily that he didn’t hear the shot. I have heard many recounts of murder and this detail is included every time without fail. And yet you left it out of your narrative. Therefore, he must have been out of town at the time.”

“Oh,” Miss Robinson chuckled, “you gave a fright there for a moment Mr Lupin. Dr Wright was staying at L'Hôtel D'Affaires as he had an early conference meeting the next day.”

“Very well,” said Remus, “We shall see you tomorrow morning, Miss Robinson. Good day.” And with that, she bustled off back into the now significantly more crowded street.

The following day Remus and I ventured out to the Wright house to investigate. Remus questioned the two other servants but the interviews were brief and nothing new was discovered.

“Now we shall question Dr Wright and then I might head to the station to hear Mr Williams’ account,” said Remus.

One might think that it ails me to watch Remus question so many people and not understand what he understands. However, I must admit that it is one of my greatest pleasures to watch Remus work through a case. He is the master of deduction but there are a few telling signs that allow for me to draw my own conclusions. I know that he is excited despite his efforts to conceal it. Perhaps he fools the rest of the world but not me. I have the expressions of his face memorised. The furrow of his brows when he collects his evidence, the twinkle in his eyes when the pieces fall into place in his brilliant mind, the bite of his lip when he’s concentrating (sometimes I wish I were the one biting his lip in his place), the curl of his lip when, once again, he manages to outwit everybody else in the room. I believe Remus is the only man I have ever met who can be both modest and proud at once. And I love him for it.

“I was devastated when I got the news Mr Lupin,” said Dr Wright, once we were all sat down in the living room. “Naturally, of course. My beloved wife has passed and now my daughter and son-in-law too. This was the order of events as I had it. I left that evening at 6:15 and checked into L'Hôtel D'Affaires at 7:30. I had an important conference meeting early the next morning, you see, and I abhor rising early. The next day, I was summoned by the police and told that Williams had been arrested for the murder of Mary and Charles. I never knew Williams had feelings for my daughter but I think that his actions were certainly a poor expression of love.” Dr Wright’s face tensed with anger and despair. He looked truly broken and empty, as though he were lost and unsure about what he could do now that everything he had loved so dearly was gone.

“With your permission, sir, I will ask you a few questions now,” said Remus. “Were the couple happy together?”

“Oh yes. My Mary loved Charles truly; I believe she would have done anything for him.”

“And how did you feel about the match?”

“I too was satisfied. I thought that the boy was a wonderful young man and that he would take good care of my girl. I looked forward to their marriage.”

“What was the boy’s family like?”

“Oh, they lived quite comfortably and were very kind people. I thought Mary would be happy to be welcomed to such a family.”

“Well sir, I am truly sorry for your loss; I think we shall quit your company for I think I know everything that can be of use to me.”

---------

“Now to the police station then?” I asked once Remus and I left the house.

“No,” said Remus, still deep in thought, “no, I think our time would be better spent at the town gossip house.”

“Two beers, please,” said Remus as we walked into the nearest pub and placed three two-pence coins on the bar. When the bartender handed us our drinks, Remus turned to me and said, “Did you hear about what happened up at the Wright house?” I was familiar with Remus’ tactics by now and knew that he was, in fact, not speaking to me at all but merely hoping to be overheard by one of the locals at the bar.

“Know ‘bout that now do you?” the bartender interrupted before I would have had a chance to reply. He turned to face us once more.

“Yes, I read about it in the paper,” said Remus casually. I have said it before but he is an incredible actor. He fools them all. All but me. I grow warm at the thought and a smile begins to spread across my face but I suppress it. Smiling now would seem odd at the very least, suspicious as most. “They arrested the man, didn’t they? The servant they suspected?”

“Sure did,” replied the bartender. “And I reckon ‘e’s the one ‘oo dun it, too. D’you think ‘e’s the one ‘oo caused all them yellin’s up in the Haunted Shack?”

“Excuse me?” said Remus in evident surprise.

“You ain’t from around ‘ere, mister, are you?”

“No, I can’t say that I am.”

“Well, there’s a shack up there next to the Wright ‘ouse, a right nasty shack I’ll give you that. Now them Wrights is livin’ in a nice house, ain’t nothin’ too grand but it’s more than modest. Right by the Wright ‘ouse there’s an ol’ shack, abandoned I reckon. Dr Wright had fenced it off but ‘e never ‘ad it torn down. Now sometimes, in the dead of night, we villagers would ‘ear someone sobbin’ up in that place. Once we even ‘eard a scream. Ghosts, that’s what everyone’ll tell you, that the place is haunted. Rumor ‘as it that the reason that Dr Wright never tore down the bloody thing is because ‘e fears them ghosts. But I think different. I say whoever been makin’ those noises up in there, that’s your man, that’s the murderer. It ain’t makin’ much sense but it’s the bloody truth I’d be prepared to swear to it.”

Suddenly, Remus drained his drink in a gulp and said, “That’s an interesting idea, but we really must get going, Sirius, if we’re going to make the next train.”

Next, we visited L'Hôtel D'Affaires where Remus made some small inquiries while I admired the hotel’s lounge and thought over our discussion with the bartender. Why on earth would Williams, the servant, sob and scream in an old, mangled shack? I had no answer but I was sure that Remus did.

Finally, we returned to Baker Street for a spot of supper and bed. We ate without exchanging a word until Remus suddenly broke the silence.

“This case is wrong, all wrong!” he exclaimed in frustration. “But I haven’t enough evidence just yet to get the man convicted. But I shall find it, I shall.” And with that, he marched up to bed. I waited to follow him up. On nights like this, I give Remus space to mull over his thoughts about the case alone before going to bed. He has never asked me to but I know he wants the time to think.

“Hello,” said I, upon entering the room later that night. Remus seemed to have been lost in thought; upon my entrance, his head turned sharply towards me. “Would you like me to leave?” I asked hesitantly.

“No, of course not, darling,” he said, his expression softening, revealing the man I know behind the great detective. “As a matter of fact, perhaps I should let my mind become distracted by other matters and return to the case in the morning. I sometimes find it easier to approach the facts at a different angle when doing that.”

“I could think of a few ways to keep your mind distracted,” I said, grinning at him.

“Can you now?” he smirked.

---------

The next day, Remus decided to go back up to the Wright house and search Mary Wright’s room, the place where the crime was committed, for evidence of his new theory. He came back with a triumphant look on his face that indicated success. That night, after a small supper, Remus asked if I wished to accompany him.

“Where would we be going?” I asked curiously.

“To bring this case to justice,” he replied simply. “Bring your revolver,” he added; even though I had not yet consented to join him, he knew I could not refuse an offer such as the one before me. Not only because of my all-consuming love for him, but because of my curiosity as well.

When we arrived at the Wright house – which was, apparently, our destination – the door was opened by Dr Wright himself.

“Mr Lupin,” he said in surprise. Without waiting for a reply, Remus stepped over the threshold and into the house; I was on his heel as always.

“I must insist that you leave,” said Dr Wright in rage. “What is this hour at which you call upon me? Surely what you want can wait until tomorrow?”

“As a matter of fact, it cannot,” said Remus. His amber eyes bore straight into the brown ones of Dr Wright as though seeing right through him. “I don’t often carry out the commands of murderers.”

“I—what—h–how dare you—?” spluttered the doctor but he had turned significantly paler.

“Would you like to tell the story or shall I tell it for you?” said Remus.

“You know everything?” asked Dr Wright, sinking into a chair.

“I do.”

“Then I may as well come out and say that I had no intention for it to go this far. I suppose it began with my wife. I loved her dearly and I wanted a son terribly. When Mary was born and my wife passed away, I was in agony. I felt as though I had lost everything that I held dear. Mary was the spitting image of my late wife; she was a constant reminder of my lost love which was both excruciatingly painful and necessary for my survival. I hadn’t the heart to kill the girl but the pain drove me to near insanity sometimes and in those moments I would drag Mary into the shack on the outskirts of this property and whip her with my riding crop. I treated her terribly though nobody knew, not even the servants.”

My hands began to shake at that. Memories of my own childhood filled my head. The whipping, the beating, the screaming. I clenched my hands into fists to mask the shaking but Remus noticed. He noticed everything. His hand twitched towards mine but I met his eyes and shook my head ever so slightly. Not now. And certainly not here. Only one arrest would be made tonight and it wouldn’t be either of us.

I forced myself back into the present, feeling a surge of anger towards the man sitting before me but I did nothing more than continue to glare at him. All these years working alongside Remus had taught me to control my temper if only a little. This man would get what he deserved. Hitting him now wouldn’t solve anything. It would make me feel a whole lot better, though. The thought crossed my mind but Remus met my eye again. He knew what I was thinking. His eyes flashed, reminding me that acting now would be unwise and reckless.

Dr Wright must have noticed the disgust and fury with which Remus and I were glaring at him, for he added defensively, “I’m not proud of it; these were certainly my lowest moments save when I… well I’ll get to that later. Anyhow, the villagers heard Mary’s sobs and started the rumour that there were ghosts living in the old shack. I encouraged the rumours, or at least I didn’t discourage them.

“Then, all of a sudden, my little Mary was announcing that she was engaged, that she was to be taken away from me; my last living link to my wife. You must understand my position gentlemen.” Dr Wright’s eyes were wide; he looked like he was pleading with Remus and me to put ourselves in his position. “On Wednesday night, I left the house at 6:30 that evening, telling everyone that I was staying the night at a hotel as I had an early conference meeting the next morning. I wasn’t lying but I wasn’t telling the full truth either. I intended to go to Charles’ house and confront him, to tell him to call off the marriage and threaten him with everything within my power. I went to Mary’s room to bid her farewell and left for Charles’. I knocked on the door but there was no reply. The door was left unlocked so I entered. I called for the man but without success. Then I saw a letter lying on the table.

“‘Dearest Charles,’ it read, ‘Father is leaving town tonight for a conference. Perhaps you would like to stay at our house for the night? All my love, Mary.’ I was infuriated. I rushed back to the house but rather than entering through the door, I climbed into Mary’s room through the window and found Charles sitting at her desk, a mischievous smile dancing on his smug face. Anger surged through me and, without thinking, I grabbed the knife I had brought with me, for caution’s sake, and stabbed him in the heart. He gave a strangled sort of scream; it was not loud enough to wake the servants but it was loud enough to cause Mary considerable alarm.

‘Charles?’ she called from the hall. ‘Is everything alright?’ And that was when my world fell apart. Mary entered the room and I stood up so violently that I pulled the knife right out. So many emotions flooded me at once and it was too much for me to handle. I pulled out my gun and shot her. I stood frozen for what felt like eternities, watching my only child fall dead to the floor from a bullet I had shot. The servant’s yelps of concern from downstairs caused me to snap out of my reverie. When I realized what I had done, I dropped the gun, pocketed the knife and scrambled back out the window. I left for L'Hôtel D'Affaires and spent the night there. The rest of the story, you already know gentlemen.” Remus’ look of disgust had not yet faded off his face. My hands had not yet stopped shaking.

“I have alerted the authorities,” said Remus, “and they are waiting for us outside. You will accompany them back to the station and await your trial in jail. If you do not come peacefully, I will use force.” Dr Wright said nothing else but followed Remus and me outside where he was arrested by the county police.

---------

“I believe I owe you an explanation, Sirius,” says Remus once we were seated once more in the comfort of our armchairs in 221B Baker Street. “And an apology. I shouldn’t have suggested that you accompany me on this specific case. Not when the details of it could… resurface unwanted memories.” I shake my head.

“It’s quite alright,” I say.

“No, it’s not,” says Remus, taking my hand in his own. “I forced you to relive your worst memories without so much as a warning, all for my peace of mind. All because I wanted you by my side. It was horribly selfish of me.”

“I would have insisted on accompanying you anyway,” I say. “I want to be by your side, my love. Now, pray tell me about your thought process. How did you solve the case?” This, perhaps, is what I enjoy most about working on cases with Remus. The moment when the case has been solved, the victims avenged, the villains confronted and punished appropriately, and only Remus and I remain, in the living room of our flat, our limbs tangled together as I watch the excitement and passion that radiates from Remus as he explains to me how his extraordinary mind saw what only he could.

“Firstly,” he begins, and already I can hear the shift in his voice. He loves his work. And he shares it with me. It is one of the things I love most about him. (I do say that quite a lot. Perhaps it is simply because I love everything about him.) “I will admit that I entered the case thinking that Williams was very likely the culprit. I consented to conduct the investigation in the case that my client’s instincts proved to be correct but I was almost entirely convinced that the investigation would be worthless. My suspicion first fell upon Dr Wright when I was interrogating him. I asked him what he thought of the match between his daughter and Charles; he said he was looking forward to their marriage. I found this most abnormal as nearly all fathers feel some sadness when their daughters leave their houses for that of another man especially when their wives have passed on. Why should this man be glad to lose his daughter? My immediate response was that he wasn’t, he was merely pretending to avoid suspicion. This, however, was hardly evidence, it was nothing more than a gut feeling.

“So we went to the town pub and learnt about the shack. I followed this by visiting L'Hôtel D'Affaires and inquiring as to the hour at which Dr Wright checked in. As you may recall, he told us that he had checked in at 7:30, an hour after his departure. But at L'Hôtel D'Affaires I was informed that Dr Wright only checked in at 10:30 on Wednesday night. By this point, my theory was formed and I was certain of its accuracy but I still needed proof. Therefore, the following morning I went to the scene of the crime and, after some rummaging about, found Mary Wright’s diary which included Charles’ reply to her letter that invited him over on that fateful night. The diary told me everything I needed to know. Then you and I went to confront Dr Wright, he was rightfully arrested and here we are now.” Remus concludes his explanation with a grim smile.

“Wonderful!” I say, applauding him for his achievement. Remus shrugs but I can see that he is attempting to hide a smile. If I could only shower him with compliments for the rest of my days to see his beautiful smile, I would do so. “You know, detective, one might find it very attractive when you make all these deductions,” I add.

“Oh?” he says, eyebrows raised. “And would this ‘one’ be you, by any chance?”

“Is that another deduction?” I tease.

“That wasn’t something I needed to deduce, love, it’s written all over your gorgeous face,” he says. Then I kiss him slowly, bringing my hand into his hair when I feel his on my waist.

“I do love you, you know,” he says, his lips still lingering on mine, refusing to pull away. “I don’t say it as often as I should but I do. The world can continue to hate it but I will never cease to love you, Sirius.”

“I know,” I reply, allowing my hand to fall and gently brush his cheek. “I love you too.” Remus blushes and I can see the man I fell in love with. Where the rest of the world sees only his brilliant mind and his icy exterior, I see beyond. I see the goodness in his heart, the emotion in his voice, the passion in his eyes, softness of his lips. I see it all and more. He shows it to me and only to me. He lets me have him. And I give him all there is of me in return. It is of this that I think when I lean in to kiss Remus again. And it is of this that I think when he kisses me back.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #sirius black #sirius black fluff #moony #padfoot #wolfstar #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #wolfstar fanfic #Wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar oneshot #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #Marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot #sherlock holmes #switching fandoms

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emmies-archives · 3 years

Text

Under the Roses. A Valentines day special.

Genre: FLUFF pure fluff. I am too soft.

Wordcount: 1.8k

Summary: Class 1a celebrates Valentines day for the whole weekend. The girls had an idea to hang roses up like mistletoe. You spend the whole weekend watching Todoroki under the roses with every other girl except you, but you didn’t realize he meant for you to be there instead.

“Y/n, why are you staring into space?” Midoriya asked, breaking your focus.

You were looking at what had to be the stupidest idea you’ve ever seen. And, of course, you had been a part of its making. This year Valentine’s day happened to fall on a Sunday so the class had thought it would be a lot more fun to celebrate the whole weekend. At first, you were excited, it was going to be a nice break from classwork and all the mishaps that happened with training.

All the girls got together to sort through a box of old decorations when class ended Friday afternoon. After a few minutes of looking, Hagakure squealed. She was holding up a ball of mistletoe.

“We should totally hang this up! It’ll be so much fun!” She said and some of the other girls nodded.

“The only thing is that it has nothing to do with valentines’ day,” Momo said a slight frown on her face. “It may look a bit tacky.”

“What if instead of mistletoe we used roses?” You asked, not serious. It would’ve been cool to start a new tradition with the other classes, but you didn’t know if this would be enough. But the girls' reactions made it seem like you were a genius, and it was settled.

Throughout the day as you walked around the dorm you found more and more balls of roses hung up. They were all over, at least three in the common room, one in each hallway, in the kitchen. Everywhere you looked it seemed like roses were hung up. Momo and the other girls worked faster than you thought. It was going to be an interesting weekend.

Unlike mistletoe, the girls decided that if you found yourself with someone under the roses you had to show some form of affection or appreciation. Whether it be a hug, high five, or even a kiss. But of course, if someone was uncomfortable with it, they did not have to participate. You thanked Ochako for that part of it. You had seen Mineta sneaking around the roses several times, waiting for whatever poor prey he had his eyes on. A couple times they were on you. You just sped up your pace and passed him.

Friday went by fast and you hadn’t found yourself under the roses more than a couple times. The first person was Momo, and the two of you shared a hug while giggling. Momo was surprisingly very good at hugs. You bumped into Midoriya under them when you were heading for your dorm room. His face immediately turned red and he started to mumble. You just held both hands up for a double high five which he sighed in relief at.

Saturday morning the class spirits seemed to be higher than before. Everyone had a smile on their face, and you couldn’t help but thinking it was from the roses. You had even seen Kaminari and Sero tackled Bakugo in a hug, and he was yelling but he hadn’t resisted. It was nice seeing everyone enjoy the weekend. That’s all you wanted. Even if it was just a small break away from everything, all the stress and heaviness from weeks prior washed away. Spending time with your friends was enough. The first time you saw Todoroki standing under the roses, Momo’s hand in his, your heart stopped for just a second. He placed a small kiss on the back of her hand and then walked away. You were only a little jealous.

The jealousy grew though, somehow Todoroki kept finding himself under different roses hanging throughout the dorm and somehow you had witnessed each one. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t force yourself in following him under the roses. The feelings you had for him were no stranger to you. But for some reason, you had a hard time expressing them. There had been a few times where you just barely exposed them to him.

Each time the encounters were fleeting. Always being interrupted by something or someone. You figured fate just wasn’t in your corner, so you settled for the long glances, brief touches in passing, and occasionally, the soft words exchanged between you two. Once there had been just enough time for a small connection. Standing close to each other, the air between you tense and full of longing. The conversation long gone in your mind now. Todoroki’s phone lit up with an incoming call. Before he turned to leave, he leaned in and placed a small kiss on the corner of your lips. Whispering a soft apology. You wanted that connection again, even only a moment of it.

Sunday came fast. Valentine's day. Nearly two whole days had passed, you missed your chance several times. You had seen Todoroki under the roses several times now, with each girl from the class and even some of the boys. His lips touching each girl’s hands burned into your eyes. His arms wrapping around the boys seemed to tease you. It was starting to become too much. If it wasn’t for your hesitancy every time you saw him walk toward or near a bunch of roses you could’ve felt that closeness for yourself. You were running out of time now and you weren’t even sure if you’d even be able to finally grasp what you wanted.

“Y/n, who have you been under the roses with?” Mina asked, plopping down on the couch next to you.

“Most of the girls, Midoriya, Sero, Sato and Kirishima.” You answered and smiled. Everyone had such fun reactions to being under it. Kirishima’s was your favorite so far. He had grinned and attacked you into a bear hug, picking you up and spinning you around. He ended it with a fist bump, and you couldn’t help but laugh at him. He was like a big brother.

“You kiss anyone yet?” Ochako asked and Mina wiggled her eyebrows. You shook your head and couldn’t help glancing at Todoroki across the room.

“Ohhhhh, I see why.” Mina grinned and nudged your shoulder. “Your waiting on a certain someone.”

“Don’t be so loud! And don’t look over there you’re too obvious.” You said laughing now. You couldn’t even deny her, she knew she was right. She didn’t get a chance to respond before you heard your name being called out.

Todoroki called you again and motioned for you to go over to him. In the back of your mind, you felt disappointment twinge when you saw there weren’t any roses above him. Mina winked at you when you got up and went to him.

“What’s up?” You asked. You didn’t know what you were hoping for exactly, but you could feel your heart beating faster now.

“Remember in class a couple days ago when you asked about my hero costume?” He asked and you nodded, tilting your head a little bit. You wanted to know about the accessories and who the designer was for them. “I emailed them and asked if they had any openings to meet with you. They just responded with a couple dates.”

“Oh really! That’s really cool.” You said a distracted. No matter how many times you had been close to Todoroki before, he always seemed to catch you off guard. Maybe it was due to his quirk, but he had a warmth in the air around him. He always smelled so good, comforting.

“I had also sent the design of your current hero costume to them, they sent back a new one. Do you want to take a look?” You could only nod, as he got closer to you.

There was a magnetic force pulling you to him and it took everything in you to fight against it. He turned his phone to you but there was just a loading screen. He muttered something about bad service and moved back a few steps, he didn’t have to say anything for you to move with him. Your eyes were still fixed on the screen, trying to hide how he affected you.

“There we go,” He said, and you were confused a bit, the screen was still loading. Your focus was broken as he placed a hand on your arm and put his phone in a pocket. “I finally got you.”

It took a second to register what he was saying, but then you looked up. Your eyes were met with roses and you could feel your heart beating faster. He had tricked you.

“I’ve been trying this whole weekend to get you under here with me. You’re a hard one to lure in, Y/n.” He said and you met his eyes. There was a softness in them. The warmth you were craving the past couple of days crept through your skin now. A small smirk on his face caused your cheeks to burn. You couldn’t find yourself to say anything in response. “I’m sorry you had to see me with everyone else. It was supposed to be you.”

“You knew I was watching?” You whispered, being so close to him was taking your breath away. His face was inches away now. Your bodies gravitated to each other, almost touching. Todoroki nodded in response.

“This is for you,” He began and moved his right hand to cup your cheek. You felt yourself melt into his cool hand. “and only you.”

A second passed and it felt like a lifetime. His body flush against yours now, his dual-colored eyes bearing into yours. He was the only thing you could think about, overwhelming everything else. The bustle in the common room washed away from your peripheral and your vision tunneled to him. You felt heat soaring through your chest and a coolness on your skin.

This was the only thing you had wanted. Who leaned in first was impossible to tell, the magnetic connection finally pulled the two of you together. The way his lips moved against yours was addicting. Todoroki invaded all of your senses, even time seemed to slow down. You weren’t sure if you dreamt this moment before, but the raw emotion of his arms around you, your fingers tangling in his hair sent you soaring.

Time started slowly again once you pulled back a bit. Todoroki rested his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes still. You had forgotten about the others in the room until you heard someone cheer and clap. But you still couldn’t give it any focus, only able to take in the boy in front of you.

“You’re so warm.” Were the only words you were able to get out. He laughed breathlessly and you blushed again.

“Happy Valentine's day, darling.” He purred leaning in and placing another kiss on the corner of your lips. You remembered the fleeting moment he had done that before. This is what you had been waiting on. You barely had a chance to responded before he laced his fingers through yours and started to pull you with him.

“Where are you going?” You asked laughing a bit as he dragged you across the room, trying not to look at the faces of your classmates.

“To kiss you under the rest of the roses.” He answered. Another blush erupted across your face.

#shoto todoroki xreader #todoroki shouto #shoto todoroki imagine #shoto imagine #todoroki imagine #shoto todoroki oneshot #shoto todoroki #todoroki bnha #shoto bnha #bnha reader insert #todoroki x y/n #todoroki fluff #bnha fluff #shoto fluff

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bridgetotheskyyy · 3 years

Text

Heliophilia || Yuji/Reader ||

Rating: Mature Warnings: Sadfic, angst Relationships: Itadori Yuuji/Reader Additional Tags: Oh boi do we love not to have plot, Plot is for wimps, Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Slight comfort/fluff because the flashbacks are so lovely but other than that, JJK makes me so in my feelings, In my feelings about Yuji, Absolute Angst, Mature because of some detailed sex Summary: Then why are you hurting me? You wanted to scream back. But you knew — that horrible, sickly type of knowing, like the looming death of a loved one or the scent of a lie — that Yuji was not breaking up with you because he didn’t love you. That wasn’t it.

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for quite a while. I don't know why I'm so obsessed with it! Please tell me if you spot any errors or anything! Might write a companion piece. Read on ao3!

“I’m sorry,” Yuji’s voice fractured, resisting tears. Emotion was so pronounced in his atonement you could feel the pain living in his throat in your own. “I’m so, so sorry, (Y/n) …”

You faced away from him, back turned from him. Your nails bit into the leather of your jacket so. Your face hot, the threat of tears in your eyes, as well. You tried to focus on the blissful white noise of the fountain, pouring forth its waters in elegant streams, and not Yuji’s aching, agonized breathing.

“It all works out, doesn’t it?” You choked. “If you’re really sorry, you can use all this misery to fuel your cursed energy, can’t you? Not a total loss then —“

“Don’t talk like that!”

Yuji gripped your shoulders, forcefully turning you to face him.

“I love you!” he pleaded. “You know that! Don’t you ever say things like that! I love you, I just — I can’t — we can’t —“

Then why are you hurting me? You wanted to scream back. But you knew — that horrible, sickly type of knowing, like the looming death of a loved one or the scent of a lie — that Yuji was not breaking up with you because he didn’t love you. That wasn’t it. Silence stretched between the two of you in the edenic park and it carried the weight of years, filling the agonizing space.

Then why are you hurting me?

I love you but I’m a sorcerer. I love you but I’m Sukuna’s vessel. I love you but everything’s dying around me. I love you but I couldn’t protect Junpei and one day I won’t be able to protect you, either.

You found yourself laser-focused on Yuji’s hands pressed into your shoulders and wanted to prolong his touch. Finally, the tears began to fall, along with a sob that ransacked your lungs. You lowered your gaze to his chest, the urge to sink into him astounding.

“I love you,” Yuji repeated. “Please believe me …”

Please believe me.

I do.

You managed the last remnants of your strength to pull away from Yuji, one last time. You resisted the heavying ache in your chest as Yuji sunk to his knees, hugging yours. You yanked him away, walking away from the fountain.

“Goodbye, Yuji.”

In hindsight, you would never understand how the possibility of it being the final time you ever saw your ex-boyfriend Yuji didn’t bring you running back to him.

But you kept walking.

You flicked the blaring red reject button so hard on your phone it almost fled from your hand, slamming it on the nightstand and sinking back into the grove of sheets.

He wouldn’t stop calling.

It had started that night, having gotten back to your apartment. Thank the gods you lived alone; you broke everything in plain sight. By the time it was over, you were slumped onto the hallway floor, the kitchen floor a sea of broken plate glass, the pillows emptied of their stuffing, vases destroyed. All culminating in your neighbors hurriedly running over, thumping on the door, asking are you okay, we heard crashing, god, we thought there was a fight, are you sure you’re alone? Are you safe? Should we call the cops?

You waved them off best you could, but surely you were not nearly as convincing as you wanted to be with tear-reddened eyes and a croaked voice.

Just a hard time, is all. Just anxiety. I’m going through it, okay? I’ll be fine.

You refused to talk, but that hardly mattered — once it all hushed down, Yuji started.

Messages. Dms. Snapchat. Instagram. Anything he could use you get a hold of you was used to try and talk to you, clear things up, explain. You disabled it all, ironically thankful for the isolation his insistence was situating you in. And somehow you managed to get to sleep that night.

Now, two days later, the ritual was the same. Your phone blared to life, ringing a tone you now thought horrible into the air. You would rush to reject it, slam on nightstand, back to bed.

Rinse, lather, repeat.

You didn’t rise. You didn’t eat. Papers dedicated to different classes sprawled on your office desk, unsure of when you’d be able to get to any of it. Probably never; college seemed such a distant, small thing in the face of losing Yuji, hardly worth a paltry thought in your mind.

Five, afternoon passed. No call. By now, Yuji had to have been persuaded by someone else to stop hounding you — Megumi, probably discouraging him, even taking his phone away from him, maybe.

You’d never know.

Another thought, this one piercing your heart with unexpected ferocity — you even bucked as it arrived to upset you:

Maybe he was dead.

You’d never know.

Whatever relief you had felt as the hour passed into another and no call livened your phone was gone, replaced with grief.

And … longing.

You would’ve done anything to talk to him.

Please, you thought, twisting toward your nightstand, eyeing your phone. Please, call again. I promise I’ll pick up. Yuji …

Your phone did nothing, resting on your stand, black and unresponsive.

The first thing you grew to miss was his voice.

Your mornings would begin with his soft acknowledgment before being accompanied by lips pressed to your forehead — “Morning, (Y/n).” — your evenings full with Yuji, tailing you around the apartment, helping you with chores, telling all about some new show he’d binged over the weekend of some new movie he snuck off to see.

It was … so quiet now. The silence lived in your ears, so pronounced it served as its own sound. After a few days, you felt well enough to at least clean up what you had destroyed. After the chaos you had caused all that remained was a trashed apartment and uncomfortable tranquility.

The process of cleaning bestowed on you a new ache to refresh the others; usually at times like this. Cleaning day, at any normal time in your life —

“And then he picked up the bad guy’s gun,” Yuji continues, absentmindedly clearing the table of trash, dropping items into the large black trash bag.

“Mhm,” you hum back loving, reaching on your tiptoes to dust behind a picture frame. “Yeah?”

“And he shoots the bad guy and he misses,” Yuji awes from behind you, “only he doesn’t miss — they just make us think he misses because when the camera cuts back he’s —“

“Yuji?” you turn to him, eyebrows raised.

Yuji’s cheeks are reddening. “Heh. Sorry, was I rambling again?”

“It’s okay,” You drop the duster to the floor, peck him on the cheek. “Let’s just finish cleaning this table.”

But of course, he doesn’t stop — Yuji is excited and bubbly, especially when he helps you, and his anecdotes from movies, or shows, or sorcerer life, distract you from the grunt work of cleaning day — or any day.

You were miserably aware of the ringing silence, nestled in the space Yuji’s voice used to live as you cleared the table of plastic cups and empty plates all on your own.

The second thing you grew to miss was his kiss.

Yuji had been your first kiss and your lips craved the attention of his.

You were in class, your college professor rambling about some eighteen-hundreds writer while you twiddled your pencil. You bit into your lips hoping to satiate them, but it only worsened your yearning. The classroom began to fall away as memory tugged at your mind.

“(Y/n).”

Yuji’s voice carries your name so tenderly you almost fail to recognize it. You look at him as the first round of fireworks explodes in the summer night’s sky.

“New Year’s Eve, Yu-Yu,” you said, your own soft voice trembling. “Did you make a wish?”

“Wish? Heh, No, but there … is something I wanted to do.”

You part your lips as Yuji eliminates the space between the two of you, inch by cursed inch.

You swallow, letting the moment hang as sparks fly behind Yuji’s head.

“What?” You ask.

But your inquiry dies away as Yuji banishes the final inch.

His lips descend on yours. Soft, warm, sweet. He moves little, tentative, before your arms wrap around his shoulders and invite him closer.

“(Y/n), I —“

You refuse his words, cupping the back of Yuji’s head to re-close the gap between you.

He doesn’t attempt to speak again, pressing you against the railing of the park while his lips caress yours. Fireworks whistle behind you as they combust in the sky, showering down in luculent streams.

His kisses, then and thereafter, are loving, lingering — gentle until they are not; the union of lips dissolves into sloppy angles and reddened lips. Harsh breaths and Yuji bucking into your body, eager for more.

“Miss (Y/n)!”

You jerked. Raised your head.

“I have a hard time believing you’ve not heard your name once these past seven times I’ve called it,” Your professor glared.

No, I haven’t.

“I’m sorry, professor. Repeat the question, please.”

Your hand balled in your fist. You shouldn’t miss him. You shouldn’t miss him.

But you do. And the list of things you’ll miss will only continue to grow.

The third thing you grew to miss was his touch.

You shifted on the couch, painfully aware of the lack of Yuji’s presence at your back, snuggling into you from behind, legs intertwined into yours.

“Yuji …” you giggle. “Stop it …”

“What?” Yuji snuggles the back of your neck before finding his way into your crook. “I’m not even …”

Language dies as the two of you collapse into giggles. The tv plays a movie neither of you hold much interest in now that Yuji’s finds his way into your shirt, tickling the sensitive flesh at your sides.

“Yuji!”

“What?” he patterns your neck with kisses, pressing you closer to him with an armlock around your waist. He is so strong and holds you to him as you squirm.

Finally, you give in, cupping his face with your hand, you bring him in for a kiss. He hums into the kiss and reciprocates immediately, pressing into you properly —

A gunshot from a crime show you left on yanked you into reality. You blinked, sunk into the sheets, letting the tv’s artificial light fall over you.

Reality, where the blankets cannot compare to the boy you have lost.

But the thing you’d miss the most?

Yuji warms his cock inside of you as you burn red, hot lines into his back with your nails. He stains your perspired forehead with kisses as he empties his seed into you. His hips swerve, providing friction to your exhausted clit. You whine into his shoulder, furrowing your brow as your orgasm takes you.

“Ah — ah …! Yuji …!”

Yuji rocks into you a few more times, crescendoing your climax before hooking a hand underneath your knee and rolling in bed so you are side by side. You bite your lip, grind your clit on his strong thigh before settling, resting your head on his shoulder.

The silence is effortlessly serene and comfortable.

But Yuji breaks the silence. “(Y/n)?”

You smile, looking up at him from your place on his chest. “Yeah?”

“I …” he looks away, blush flourishing on his face. “I really love you alot, you know?”

You match his blush with one of your own as your eyes widen. Yuji overcomes some of his embarrassment to caress your cheek with his hand.

“I …” You trail, placing a hand over the one that currently holds your face. “I love you, too, Yuji.”

Even worn from sex, Yuji manages to perk, light coming to his mocha eyes. He smiles back at you.

“That’s good.”

You kiss his cheek, settling by his side for the night.

Yuji is the only warmth you know and the only light you recognize. You allow him to blanket you, shield you from any cold that exists.

“Thanks for that.”

You leaned against the headboard, a thousand-mile stare burning into the wall opposite to you. The aftermath of your sex slumped horribly in your stomach. Your guest zipped up his pants, reaching for his shirt next.

“Yeah,” You replied, absentminded and silent. “Yeah, sure.”

“Next time, okay?”

Your insides screamed to reject but instead:

“Yeah, okay.”

Your one-night stand left, leaving you thudding your head against the headboard. It hadn’t been bad, even unpleasant, it had been … fine. Cold. Impersonal. Impartial. You had never had fine. Not with Yuji.

Yuji, you grieved.

You turned your head to your phone, your hope of Yuji’s call blown out by its perennial blackness.

You clutched a hand to your heart, hollowed out from longing.

His love came last.

#yuji itadori x reader #yuji x reader #jjk fics #jjk #yuji itadori #my work

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tarteausuga · 3 years

Text

Wonderless

In which Mark is at a crossroads between the two loves of his life...

WC: 1676 words

CW: angst, a smidge of fluff, use of a few profane words. Band!NCT, lead singer!Mark x she/her oc

A/N: vaguely based off of Wonderless by Pierce the Veil

Meeting her was the best and worst thing to ever happen to Mark. He always told himself that the day he falls in love with someone is the day he would start to cut back on his work. He never anticipated that day to come so early in his career. It was a crush that got out of control and before things got too serious, he had to make a choice: his love or his dreams.

"I just want you to be happy, Mark." She said tearfully that night he made his decision. The image of her forced smile through her sad eyes is the most vivid memory he has.

"I'm sorry." He said to her but she quickly brushed it off.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. This is what you've been working for, you need to go chase it," she wiped her eyes, "I'll always be cheering you on so don't turn back, okay?" She held onto his hands so tightly until she finished that sentence. Her grip weakened and Mark's hands dropped to his sides.

He wanted to say something so bad. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, thank her for everything she's done for him but he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would tell her he's staying. Instead, she said it all, "I love you, Mark Lee. Do good."

Mark still regrets not watching her walk away after she left a kiss on his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair for the last time. He still regrets not doing enough to make stronger memories with her. She was always there for him during the long nights of writing and recording, sleeping on the tiny couch of the tiny recording studio he and his band rented. She was always by his side through it all but ultimately, he had to leave her behind.

"Hey Mark!" Johnny poked Mark with his drumsticks. "You done daydreaming?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

The crowd was buzzing as their set time approached. This is what Mark loved so much about performing but there was still something missing. He knew exactly what it was.

Hanging his guitar over his shoulders, he downed his beer before meeting his band backstage.

She kept him grounded. She reminded him that outside of the recording studio, off the stage and beyond the interviews, he was just Mark Lee. But lately, the feeling was he didn't know who Mark Lee was anymore and it was starting to seep toxicity into every area of his life.

"Mark! Let go!" Johnny and Jaehyun jumped in to pull him off of their youngest band member and rhythm guitarist.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" Mark spat as the much larger Johnny restrained him while Jaehyun did the same to Haechan.

"What the hell is going on?" Taeyong, their lead guitarist and de facto leader stood between the two youngest as they both tried to break from their restraints.

"Ask him!" Haechan used his chin to motion at Mark.

"Me? He's been getting on my nerves since the start of this damn tour!" Mark roared.

"I don't care! I don't care what the fuck is going on between you two but you can't be going for each other's throats right before a show!" Taeyong yelled.

"Whatever." Haechan finally shook free from Jaehyun's arms. "Dude needs to get laid." He said under his breath but was still loud enough for Mark to hear.

Johnny, thinking the dust had settled, dropped his guard and gave Mark a chance to lunge at Haechan but Taeyong stepped in front of him before he could do anything else. "I don't know what's going on but you need to go cool off." Taeyong said quietly, but sternly.

"I'll play this show but only because we get a break from the tour after…" Mark chewed his words.

The show was noticeably tense. The usual friendly banter between them onstage was replaced by rehearsed lines to hopefully draw a laugh from the crowd. Their fans could easily tell there was something up with lead singer, Mark, so no one was surprised when he declined to sign autographs that night. Instead, Mark retreated to their tour bus, grabbed the bag he had packed before the show, and asked their manager to drive him straight to the airport. He was going home. For how long? He wasn't sure but he really didn't want to go back on tour. He wanted her.

With a tendency to act on impulse, he had no plans for what he was going to do when he landed. It had been just over two years since that night… did she really mean it? He wondered. She's always been one to keep her word so he trusted her and made his way back to the neighbourhood where he grew up.

As the taxi made its way into the deep suburbs, Mark felt a relief of comfort on top of nostalgia. This is where he fell in love with music. This is where he found love. Passing by his parents' house, he made a silent promise to visit them once he settled his business.

Walking up those steps and pressing the doorbell took him back to the first time he picked her up for a date. He didn't have his license at the time so his dad was on the driveway, idling while he nervously waited to see her. He held his breath like he did back then. Like he always did when he was waiting to see her.

"Oh hi Mrs.-" Mark began to greet her mom but he was instantly pulled into a hug.

"Honey! Come down!" Her dad yelled upstairs.

Mark's eyes widened as he focused on her descending towards him. Her mom peeled away, allowing him to scoop her up into his arms. His favourite person. The muse for all of his songs. His anchor.

They stood, wrapped in each other's arms for a long time before he finally spoke.

"I love you." He said just loud enough for her to hear.

"You really came to say that?" She giggled.

"Yeah, I did." He tightened his arms around her waist, determined to imprint the feeling into his brain along with her scent and the warmth of her cheek against his neck.

"I missed you." She confessed, finally pulling away to examine Mark.

"You didn't go out of town for university?" He smirked.

"I mean… Not for you… they had the program I wanted here but… yeah, maybe it was a little bit for you." She blushed.

He was relieved but he also felt guilty that she felt the need to stay for him, waiting for him. Maybe this could have worked if he was just a little bit more committed, he wouldn't have had to give her up for his band.

"So why did you really come back?" She asked him as they took a walk through the park, chasing the sparse lights, showing the path in the night.

"Why did you wait?" He answered.

"Answer me first." She pushed him lightly.

"I don't really know. I just felt like I had to, so I did." He shrugged.

"Typical Mark Lee, doing things without thinking first." She giggled.

"Is that bad?"

"Not when it's you. You act with your heart and that's what I've always loved about you." She eased his worries.

"So why did you wait?"

"I was worried. I knew that one day, you might need an escape from that world and I wanted to be here when you did." She went on but Mark got lost in her voice. He missed her voice so much. The way she would stumble on her words when she spoke too fast, the unique intonations she had for certain words. There was just something about her that made him feel normal.

There was a point in his past where he craved being on stage. The bright stage lights and roaring crowd were addictive. They sang every word he sang and they cheered after every song. But somewhere along the way, the lights were disorienting and the cheers were suffocating. The songs he wrote and sang were about and for her.

"Mark?" She poked him.

"Yeah?" He shook his head out of the clouds.

"You were off in your own world again." She laughed as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"Sorry." He laughed softly while rubbing the back of his neck.

"So when are you leaving?"

"I don't think I want to." He took a deep breath and appreciated that he wasn't trapped on a tour bus with a bunch of sweaty dudes.

"What? Mark, you can't stay here!" She gawked at him.

"Wait wait wait… you don't want me to stay?"

"Of course not! Mark you're so good at what you love, I would hate to be the reason why you give it all up." She said.

"Then why did you stay here?" He yelled at her for the second time in their relationship. His memories were modified to suit his needs. What truly happened was not as calm and perfect as he wanted it to be. He was begging her to go with him but she refused. She promised that she would always be there for him but she couldn't give up her life for him. "You're the one who said you couldn't give up your dreams and yet you're still here!"

"I… things change." She wanted to yell back but she couldn't.

"Then why can't I change my mind and choose you?"

"That would be the wrong choice… I stayed because when you left, I was afraid to leave too." She started to explain, "I was ready to go to university. Everything was packed but it didn't feel right. I wasn't ready. It's different, Mark. You know what you want and you're doing exactly what you want. I'm still trying to figure it out."

"What if I want you?" He said quietly.

"We can't have everything we want." She said.

#nct scenarios #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct scenario #nct blurbs #nct angst #mark lee imagine #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark Lee scenario #mark Lee angst

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pinknerdpanda · 4 years

Text

The Diner

Word Count: 3,623 (decidedly NOT a drabble...it got out of control and I won’t apologize.) Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Angst, Theft, Fluff Beta’d By: @princessmisery666 - thank you my love

A/N: This was requested (kind of?) by my amazing and wonderful Name Twin @amanda-teaches. I hope you like this babe! (And I promise I’m working on the other still) I know these are called “Merry Manda’s Christmas Drabbles” and literally NONE of them are Drabbles...but I’m lazy and haven’t changed it in the 4 years I’ve been doing these. So...Sorry? (I’m not, actually. I’m not even sorry a little bit.)

The bitter chill of winter air cut through the leather of Bucky’s jacket as he stepped out of the car. He’d briefly considered taking his bike for the evening but had thought better of it. Though now, he was grateful he’d spared himself that torture. Shivering, he wondered if getting out on this frigid night was even worth it at all.

“Fuckin’ hate the cold,” he muttered, the words crystallizing in the air as he shoved the keys into his pocket and began making his way to the door.

After Steve went back in time to return the stones - and himself - to their proper place, Bucky felt lost. He’d known Steve’s intentions - even supported them. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell.

He and Sam had gotten along better than Bucky would have guessed at the jump. They’d actually grown code enough, Bucky might even go as far as to call Sam a friend. Sure, they still had their moments of friction, but overall they worked well together. Sam was a damn hard worker and made him laugh, despite the obvious pain Bucky saw in his eyes. He missed Steve too. Whether they admitted it or not to themselves - certainly not out loud - they needed each other.

But sometimes Bucky just needed some time to himself.

That was how he’d wound up here the first time six months ago. It had been Steve’s birthday and even though Sam had invited him along to go see his old friend, he’d declined. He hadn’t been ready for the reminder of what kind of life he’d missed out on. So instead, he’d chosen to go for a drive with no real destination in mind. Not long into the trip however, he’d gotten hungry and stopped at the first place he saw.

The diner was small; cramped and slightly dingy, with scuffed linoleum floors and cracked booth seats. The menus felt sticky and none of the dishes matched, but the coffee was perfect. Hot, dark and slightly burnt; just how he liked it.

If anyone had recognized him that first day, they didn’t say anything. He was used to his fair share of open stares and the odd murmuring of worried voices wherever he went. But not here. Here, he was just Bucky - cup of coffee, no cream.

Bucky fell in love with the place immediately and it soon became his little home away from home. A place of refuge he could escape to when things got too heavy or his thoughts got too loud. Or, like tonight, when he just really, really wanted some of that amazingly shitty diner coffee.

The cold air that enveloped Bucky sloughed off as the diner door shut behind him, quickly replaced by the warm scent of coffee and whatever Mel was frying in the kitchen. He’d been there less than a second and he could already feel himself begin to relax.

A quick scan of the space showed no signs of anything out of the ordinary. Well - not really. A few weeks back, someone had decorated the counter top with a small, fiber-optic Christmas tree and a Santa figure that looked nearly as old as the place itself. Meager as it may be, it made the place feel festive.

The old jukebox in the corner - usually churning out songs by Chuck Berry, Elvis and The Temptations - hummed holiday tunes and voices that made him remember Christmases long since past. Before the war, before HYDRA, before the snap...when he was just a charming blue eyed kid from Brooklyn, looking out for his sisters and his annoyingly stubborn best friend. Bing Crosby's soothing timbre always brought back fond memories of his ma's cooking and the squeals of delight from the girls when they woke Christmas morning.

His moment of reverie was broken, however, by the sound of another familiar voice.

“Hey Bucky. Merry Christmas!” Y/n smiled and Bucky briefly thought of the prospect of making new Christmas memories to settle alongside those from so long ago.

Y/n followed him with a steaming pot of coffee as he took his seat at his usual booth. She filled the cup to the very brim before leaning against the back of the seat opposite of him.

“Merry Christmas, y/n.” Bucky wrapped both hands around the chipped porcelain mug. “I figured you’d have the night off, bein’ the holidays and all.”

In all the months he’d been coming here, he’d only ever seen her face bright and full of joy. She was sweet and kind and always made a point to have a chat with him about anything and nothing when she had a moment to spare. If he was being honest, part of the pull he felt toward this place was because there was a good chance he’d get to bask in her glow, if only for an hour or two.

But now, the smile on her face drew tight and the light in her eyes dimmed. In an instant, Bucky was filled with a pang of regret. Before he could find the words to apologize, her features melted back into place. He wondered if the cheeriness she tended to exude was simply a mask that he’d failed to recognize.

“Girl’s gotta make a buck somehow, right? Just the coffee tonight?”

Bucky paused, the cup halfway to his lips as he thought about it.

“Actually, I think I’m craving pie.”

Y/n nodded approvingly. “Well lucky for you, we have lots to choose from. Pick your poison.”

Savoring the delicious burn of the first sip of liquid gold, Bucky smacked his lips and tipped his head to one side. “How about you surprise me? Bring two slices of your favorite?”

“Coming right up!”

Bucky watched as y/n made her way behind the counter, setting the pot back on the warmer and moving to the fridge where they kept their pies. Propping a fist on one hip, y/n pursed her lips as she surveyed the options before her.

Bing's voice filled the comfortable silence as he crooned "White Christmas".

“Heya, Buck!” Mel’s voice drew his attention and he turned to find the greying head of the diner’s owner peeking out of the kitchen window. "Merry Christmas!"

“Merry Christmas yourself, Mel. Surprised you’re even open tonight.”

“Everybody’s gotta eat, even on Christmas Eve.” Mel grinned. “Besides, who else is gonna let your ugly mug drink all their coffee for a buck and a half?”

Bucky scoffed and shook his head. “You oughta be grateful I even come in and pay for this sludge, Mel. I could just stay home and drink my own damn coffee.”

“And yet here you are,” Mel quipped back, his gaze flicking to y/n as she approached Bucky’s table with two slices of pie. Mel winked at Bucky before disappearing into the kitchen.

Bucky’s face flushed at the not so subtle implication. And yet, here I am, Bucky thought as y/n set the plate in front of him.

“Chocolate cream pie, huh?” Bucky quirked an eyebrow at her. “I woulda pegged you for a cherry kinda gal.”

“Guess you woulda been wrong then, Sarge.” Y/n shrugged, a smug smile on her lips. “Enjoy!”

Y/n turned to head back to the counter, but Bucky caught her wrist gently. As she turned around, a spark of something between fear and confusion flashed across her face.

“Now where are you going?” Bucky let go of her wrist and motioned at the seat across from him as he continued. “Thought we were gonna have some pie?”

Confusion won over as she narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re gonna have some pie. I gotta get back to work.”

Bucky gestured around the nearly empty diner, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. Only one other table was occupied - a young couple, too giggly and twitterpated to notice anything other than each other. “I dunno. Looks to me like there’s not much work to be done at the moment. And besides, you really think I could eat all this by myself?”

Y/n planted her fist on her hip again and rolled her eyes. “Something tells me you definitely could.”

Gasping in mock offense, Bucky pressed his hand to his heart. “Even the notion! And on Christmas Eve, no less…”

Scoffing, y/n held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. Let me go get a cup of coffee and I’ll join you. But only because it’s Christmas.” Y/n shook her head warily as she walked back behind the counter.

He didn't even try to fight the pleased smile from his lips as he tapped the side of the mug with a vibranium finger. “Maybe just bring the pot?” Bucky called before draining the last of his cup.

A dull thunk against the warped tabletop nearly startled him and he looked up to find y/n already settled across from him, the coffee pot between them.

“Already ahead of you, Bucky.”

Bucky grinned and nudged a napkin wrapped fork in her direction as y/n poured a cup of coffee for herself and refilled his.

“So…” he began, unfurling his fork and immediately scooping up a large bite of pie and jamming it into his mouth.

Y/n’s eyebrow quirked and she paused, fork poised midair as she responded - “So?” - before copying his action, albeit with a slightly smaller bite.

“That’s some damn fine pie.” Bucky licked his lips and hummed in delight as he took another bite. “So, what’s the story?”

Y/n set her fork down and wiped her napkin over her mouth. Bracing her elbows on the table and wrapping her hands around her coffee, she tipped her head to one side.

“What’s what story?”

Bucky at least had the manners to swallow before taking a drink and leveling a measured gaze at her.

“Earlier, your face dropped when I mentioned you working tonight. What’s that about?”

Perhaps at some point in Bucky’s long, long life he’d have danced around the question. But lately he found himself growing more and more blunt. Why not just cut right to the chase without all the benign pleasantries?

Y/n blinked and cleared her throat. “I...uh...I don’t know what you mean.” She smiled at him, though her lips seemed forcibly stretched around her teeth.

Leaning forward, Bucky shook a gunmetal grey finger at her. “Nope. Not gonna cut it. Something’s bothering you, and I wanna help. If you’ll let me.” He sat back, running a hand through his recently shortened locks. “God knows you’ve listened to enough of my bullshit to last a lifetime.”

Tentative fingers wrapped around her fork as she began swirling the tines through the whipped cream of her mostly-uneaten pie. Bucky watched as she distracted herself with the sugary concoction.

“It’s,” she cleared her throat, gaze still trailing the swirls made with her fork. “It’s my brother. He got himself in trouble with some pretty brutal bookies. He came around last week asking for cash; I guess he’s in pretty deep. I gave him the little bit of savings I had, but I guess it wasn’t enough.”

Bucky’s body went rigid and he felt the anger building in his veins. He was thankful her gaze was still downcast, because he imagined the look in his eyes was pretty dark.

Y/n swallowed, setting her fork down with a soft ‘clink’ against the plate. “I came home from work a few days ago and he’d come in and stolen anything he thought he could get some money out of. I dunno; guess he pawned it or something.”

Small whirs and barely audible clicks of metal on metal filled the silence between them as Bucky’s fist clenched nearly as tight as his jaw. He knew she probably didn’t hear it, but to his heightened senses, it sounded like a blaring siren. Schooling his features and relaxing as best he could, he took an extra moment to level the tone of his voice.

“Your brother robbed you to pay off some bookies?”

Y/n eyes shot up, meeting his and widening suddenly as realization struck her. “Shit, I didn’t...please don’t…” She sucked in a shaky breath.

Bucky placed a hand over hers, surprising himself for a second before shaking his head. “Hey, hey. It’s ok.”

Hanging her head, she sighed. “Sometimes I forget who you are. You’re just Bucky, to me. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to put you in any kind of awkward situation being an Avenger and all…”

Her rambling died as Bucky’s hand tightened around hers reassuringly.

“I think knowing I’m ‘just Bucky’ here is one of my favorite things about coming here,” he offered her a lopsided grin as she met his gaze through watery lashes. “I’m just worried about you. You didn’t do anything wrong, darlin’.”

Releasing his hand, she sunk back into the faded pleather booth and wrapped her cardigan around herself.

“I know. I’m fine. Really.” She picked at an invisible thread on her sleeve. “I mean I can do without a TV or a computer, but he took all the presents I bought for the kids down at the rec center. I’d been saving all year to be able to do something nice for them.”

Bucky’s face flushed with renewed anger. How in the hell did someone so kind and generous and wonderful as y/n wind up with such an asshole for a brother?

“Excuse me, miss?”

Y/n looked as caught off guard as Bucky felt when the young couple from the other table called for her. They seemed hesitant to even disrupt the obviously tense situation.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but we’re gonna miss our train if we don’t leave soon.”

“Oh no, no, no. You’re no bother.” Y/n sniffed and pasted on a smile as she slid out of the booth and met them at the counter. “I’m sorry I didn’t check on you sooner.”

Their conversation faded into the background as Bucky’s head buzzed with all the ways he wanted to make y/n’s brother pay for hurting her so badly. A voice in the back of his head - one that sounded entirely too much like Steve’s star-spangled-ass for his liking - told him to calm down. It was obvious y/n loved her brother, and anything Bucky’s scrambled mind could come up with to deal with him would definitely end up hurting her more.

So, rather than plotting revenge, Bucky pulled out his phone instead. He began clicking away furiously and got so lost in his mission, he missed the sound of y/n’s footsteps as she neared. The feeling of a warm hand against his shoulder made him jump, the device thumping to the table, narrowly missing his now-cooled cup of coffee.

“At ease, Sarge. It’s just me.” Y/n chuckled and patted his shoulder. “I didn’t think it was even possible to scare you.”

Bucky’s face twisted in smug defiance. “It’s not. I was just distracted, that’s all.” He snorted in derision.

“Uh-huh.” Y/n’s lips pursed, clearly trying to fight a smile. Bucky wished she wouldn’t; he’d give just about anything to see her face light up again. “Well, I’ve gotta go clear their table and start getting things shut down for the night. I just wanted to thank you for listening to me and for always being so...well...you.”

The sound of Bucky’s heartbeat roared in his ears as she leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

----

A loud, almost violent-sounding banging on the front door woke Bucky up with a jerk. He scowled, eyes squinted against the faint golden rays of morning sun peeking through his curtains. The clock on his nightstand seemed to mock him with bright, bold, red numbers declaring the time to be 6:48 am.

The banging started again, somehow more violently. Muttering curses under his breath - mostly aimed at Sam for deciding to spend the holiday with his family down south, thereby leaving him to deal with whoever was currently trying to break down the front door - Bucky stumbled out of bed.

Another rapid series of knocks came to an abrupt stop as Bucky swung the door open. The venomous glare melted from his face as soon as his eyes met y/n’s.

“Y/n? What are you…”

His confused mumbling was cut off as y/n pushed inside and began pacing the length of the living room. She looked upset; angry even. Which Bucky could understand, at some level, as he, too, was none too pleased with being conscious at this god-forsaken hour. He watched her silent pacing with a sleepy sort of curiosity, expecting her to either start yelling or crying at any second. When a minute or so passed and she’d done neither, he tried again.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?”

The pacing stopped suddenly as she whirled to face him. The fire burning in her eyes was slightly off putting and not something he was used to seeing from her.

“What’s wrong?!” She stalked towards him. “What’s wrong is that I was woken this morning by a burly man named Carl - who smelled of cheese and tequila and told me he had a load of packages waiting for me in his truck. I was seconds away from calling the cops when he told me that it had all been paid for by someone named J. Barnes.”

Bucky’s head fell forward, a funny heat creeping up his face. A particular plank of flooring had suddenly become incredibly interesting.

Y/n scoffed. “I was confused at first, because I don’t know any J. Barnes, right? Except I do, don’t I James.”

The sound of his given name fell from her lips in a sort of disdainful disbelief that made Bucky’s head snap up.

“Y/n listen…”

“How did you even know where I lived? Are you some type of creepy stalker customer? I never asked for...I didn’t…” y/n huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t tell you that story so I could be seen as some charity case!”

Bucky held his hands up and took a slow step towards her. When she didn’t step back, he continued to approach her cautiously.

“First off, I know you didn’t. I didn’t mean for it to come across that way. I was only trying to help.” He now stood only a foot away, and made no move to come closer as he continued. “I’m not a stalker, either. I only had EDITH look you up and send the address straight to the delivery company. I specifically told her not to give it to me.”

“Who the hell is Edith?”

Bucky sighed, “It’s not a who, it’s a what. It’s Stark’s AI. The narcissistic bastard called it EDITH - ‘Even Dead, I’m The Hero’.” Bucky rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help the twinge of pain at the thought of Tony. One of Bucky’s biggest regrets was not being able to make peace with the man before he sacrificed himself against Thanos.

Y/n frowned, opening and closing her mouth a few times. Bucky took a chance and stepped forward, placing his hands gently on her elbows.

“I’m sorry, I swear I was just trying to help. When you said your brother stole all the gifts you’d bought for the kids at the rec center, it made me think of my sisters. There were a few Christmases when my ma couldn’t afford presents and it broke my heart for them. I was just a kid back then and I couldn’t do anything to help, but now I have the means and I just...I just want to help.”

Without warning, Bucky found himself engulfed in y/n’s arms. Her face was warm against his bare chest and he blushed, just now realizing he hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on. He pushed aside his own discomfort and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tighter when he felt her body begin to convulse with silent sobs.

They stayed that way for...well, Bucky wasn’t sure. It could have been a minute; it could have been an hour. But eventually, her tears subsided and she pulled back, wiping her face and not meeting his gaze.

“Thank you, Bucky” Her voice was so quiet when she spoke, Bucky wondered if he’d only been able to hear it because of his enhanced hearing. “But I can’t accept it. It’s too much, I can’t ask you…”

“You didn’t. I wanted to. For you and for those kids. Every kid deserves a present at Christmas.”

Y/n shook her head, eyes still glossy, though her lips curved in a sweet smile.

“You’re too precious for this world, you know that Sarge?” She sucked in a deep breath. “Ok, fine, but on one condition.”

Bucky frowned. “Condition?”

“Yes. You have to help me deliver them.” Y/n crossed her arms again, a challenging glint in her gaze. “But you should probably put a shirt on first.”

Bucky cringed. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” Y/n’s eyes widened as though she hadn’t meant to speak the words out loud.

Bucky fought the urge to make a smug remark and chose instead to ignore it and save her from any further embarrassment. Though he did catalogue that to contemplate later.

“Alright. Let me get changed and then we can get going.”

Bucky smiled and started toward his room, but stopped to face y/n again.

“Oh and y/n?”

Y/n looked at him and Bucky pretended not to notice the way her eyes trailed over his bare torso before she met his eyes.

“Hm?”

“Merry Christmas.”

Like what you see? Want more? My SPN Masterlist is here, and MCU is here. Thanks for reading! :)

A/N 2: I am using my new and improved taglist. If you want to be added, Send me an ask with the list you’d like to be on. Weirdos are for everything, Heroes is MCU and Hunters is for SPN.

Weirdos:

@hannahindie @amanda-teaches @ellen-reincarnated1967 @feelmyroarrrr @masksandtruths @princessmisery666 @jamielea81 @foxyjwls007 @becs-bunker @super100012 @shy-violet-soul @emoryhemsworth @impandagrl @donnaintx

Heroes:

@arrowsandmixtapes @bethbabybaby

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes Fluff #merry manda's christmas drabbles #merry manda #merry manda 2020 #panda writes #panda writes MCU

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puckluck28 · 3 years

Text

A Merry Upstead Christmas!

This one is for my lovely Chicago PD Secret Santa recipient @upsteadhc for the prompt: “any prompt from an angst or fluff list” so I figured what’s better than an Upstead pregnancy oneshot. A little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff, I hope you enjoy it! Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday Season!

*The prompts I’ve used are highlighted in bold.

For Better or For Worse, Even When Pregnant

Hailey glanced at their front from her spot on the couch in their dimly lit living room before checking the time on her phone for what felt like the hundredth time. At reading the numbers that read 1:28 AM plastered over her background that was a photo of her and Jay from their gender reveal party a few months ago, she sighed and took another sip from her now semi-cold tea. Fighting the urge to close her eyes with each passing moment, she’d been hoping for a voice mail, a quick text, something, anything that would give her enough relief so she could at least attempt to sleep, but there was nothing, and the wait was driving her crazy. Since their last call, there was an uncomfortable feeling eating at her insides, something in the pit of her stomach that had been growing for a few days, and she knew it wasn’t just her nerves growing from being only a week away from her due date. She’d gotten this same feeling a few times in the past few years, and she prayed to God that this time wasn’t like those other times.

Where the hell are you, Jay?

The unit had caught a big case a week ago: a dead pregnant girl that led the team to an international human and child trafficking ring smuggling young girls from all around the world into the States, forcing them to get pregnant, and selling the babies to God knows what kind of people. It was an understatement to say it was a rough case, even for Intelligence’s standards, and from the limited information Hailey knew about it from her lunch dates with Jay at the precinct, and the occasional calls and visits from Kim and Vanessa so Hailey wouldn’t actually lose her mind staying at home, it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park to solve.

On a regular night, Hailey wouldn’t worry about Jay staying late to go over evidence or to work on paperwork, especially while they were working a new case, but this time felt different. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about the way Jay had been especially quiet at home the past few days, those days that he had actually made it home before Hailey went to bed. It was almost as if he had been trying to avoid her, and successfully so. Then there were his texts: one word answers after taking forever to respond, that was if he responded. It wasn’t like she was expecting immediate responses or constant texting either. She knew that whenever a big case, especially something this big hit, it was all hands on deck with no room for distraction, but she at least expected a response, any response, when she asked if he’d be coming home for dinner, or if he was okay.

Now, having been partners with Jay for seven years, dated for two of those and married for one, Hailey could tell when a case, or someone, was irking him. So when he had started acting a little off the first time, she had given it to the combination of the caseload and having to work with a new partner now that she was officially on maternity leave, and done with desk duty, as per Voight and Platt’s orders. Jay’d been looking to find something to complain about his new partner from the day Voight had brought in Detective Aiden Thomas, a freshly minted detective from narcotics, as Hailey’s temporary replacement. Whether it was the way the young detective tabbed evidence files or the way he sipped his coffee during stakeouts, Jay found an excuse to text her, whining about being stuck with the new kid. So when the texts got more staggered and eventually stopped, Hailey had started getting suspicious and when she hit absolute radio silence the entire day that day, with no luck during the night either, Hailey knew it was time to call in back-up.

Around 10:00pm or so, Will had been the first person on her call list, not wanting to alert anyone on the team just yet if the older Halstead could reassure her enough to get that sleep she oh so craved. It also helped that she knew that Will was on call that night, him having shared his work schedule with Hailey since she was so close to her due date and who knew where Jay would be if she went into labor. Unlike his younger brother, Will had picked up Hailey’s call in two short rings. “Hailey? What’s up? Are you okay? Is it the baby?” He had asked in doctor mode.

“Yea, we’re good. I was calling to see if you heard anything from Jay today?”

“Jay? He was here this morning to talk to an injured suspect but that’s about it.”

“Did you realize anything off with him?”

“Not that I could tell. He and his new partner were in and out. I didn’t even see them leaving.” Hailey sighed in defeat at her brother-in-law’s response. She had really hoped he would say something that would ease her growing nerves. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yea, yea things are fine.” Hailey took a deep breath. “I just haven’t heard from him the whole day and he hasn’t come home yet and…” Her voice trailed off as her words died.

“I can-”

“No, that’s alright.” She cut him off, turning down his offer. “I don’t want him to worry if they are working.”

“You sure?”

“Yea, knowing Jay, he’ll think I’m in labor or something and freak out.” She attempted at a joke to hide her worry.

“You know, it would teach him not to ignore his pregnant wife.” That even earned a soft chuckle from Hailey.

“Thanks, Will. It’s not even that late, I’m sure it’s just me being paranoid.” She tried brushing it off. “You know how much I love staying home all day.”

“Don’t I know it?” Will went along even though he knew that for Hailey to be calling him, she must have a good reason to worry. “You and Jay are the worst people at enjoying doing nothing.”

“Yea, I’m ready to go back to work once your niece finally graces us with her presence.” She told him, her hands instinctively rubbing her 38, almost 39, week along belly at the thought of finally getting to meet her baby.

“I’d be careful wishing on that this close to your due date, Hailey. It might happen any day now.” He jokingly warned her, hoping he was providing some comfort with this distraction.

“I think it’s safe to say when it happens, you’ll be one of the first ones to know. I guess the first one to know if it happens during this call.” Hailey responded, though the only thing she could think of as silence fell was what she’d do if she were to go into labor now and Jay was nowhere to be found.

“Regardless, you know I’m here if you need me.” Will broke the silence.

“Thanks, Will. I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Alright, but seriously, call me if you need anything. I’ll be up all night.”

“I will. Thanks, again. Good luck with your shift.”

“Any time. Now stop worrying about that knucklehead and try to get some sleep.” Will jokingly ordered and with a mumble of agreement, Hailey hung up. Sleep… She really hoped she’d be able to get a little bit of it that night.

She’d given him about an hour after calling Will, called and texted a few times, but when those had gone unanswered once again, she’d moved to the next person on her list and called Kim, really hoping that they were really just working late and she wasn’t waking her up. “Hey, Hails, everything okay?” Like Will, Kim picked up the call in a few rings. It was almost as if everyone who knew Hailey was on call to answer her calls except for her husband.

“Hey, sorry I’m calling so late. Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, no, actually Kev just came back from a coffee run so I was taking a break.” Kim answered, followed by a yawn.

“Case wearing you down?”

“It’s a bad one. We found two of our suspects, who of course didn’t go down without a fight. One of them took a bullet to the knee so we are waiting for Med to release him into our custody when he’s done and the other’s downstairs.” Another yawn. “But looks like it’s gonna be a rough night. Well, I guess morning.”

“Everyone okay?” Hailey asked after hearing that their suspect had put up a fight. If he had gotten shot, it meant that he had started the shooting, and her heart started racing thinking all the worst case scenarios. Surely she would have been notified if something serious had happened to Jay, but with the way he had been so distant lately, maybe that had been it: he had gotten injured and was avoiding her calls.

“Everyone’s good, came out without a scratch.” Hailey released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Hey, is everything okay with you?” Kim asked upon hearing Hailey’s loud exhale of breath. “Oh my god are you in labor?”

“No, everything’s good here. No baby just yet.” She answered quickly, getting that out of the way. “I was calling to see if Jay’s around. I’ve tried calling him a few times but his phone kept going to voicemail, but I guess you guys are busy so I’ll let you go.”

“Ummm, Hails, Jay left a while ago.”

“Oh?” Kim’s answer took Hailey by surprise, an unpleasant one. She lost her train of thoughts and stuttered as she tried finding the words to ask her next question. “Did he- umm, did he say where he was going?”

“No, sorry. We all figured he was gonna go home and get some sleep. It’s been a rough day for him.”

“What happened? Is he okay?” It felt weird to not know that Jay’d had a rough day. It felt weird being the one to ask what was happening with him.

“One of the suspects we caught turned out to be ex-military. Someone Jay knew back in the day.” Kim told her. “I think Jay was hoping the lead would turn out to be bogus since his name came up a few days ago but…” The rest was obvious. Finding out an old buddy involved in such a disgusting case must have taken a toll on him, and understandably so. What Hailey couldn’t figure out was why he hadn’t talked to her about it, and the question hurt her more than she thought it would. “Jay must have gone on a drive or something. I’m sure he’s on his way home though.”

“Yea, yea, you’re right. I’ve probably just been losing my mind from having to stay home.” She tried laughing it off again, just like she had done it with Will, but this new found

“Oh, tell me about it! A few days is enough to drive you insane.” Kim commented, as bittersweet it was, remembering having to stay back during her short lived pregnancy so many years ago.

“Oh yea.” Hailey tried acting her usual chipper self but the fake smile plastered on her face failed to reach her voice. “Anyway, I should let you enjoy your break.”

“You sure everything’s okay?”

“Yea, yea, everything’s fine. I’m getting pretty tired anyway and you guys are busy.” She added a fake yawn to her sentence which made Kim yawn as well. “Thanks for the conversation.”

“You want one of us to drop by? I know Kevin’s about to head home for a quick nap and-”

“No, that’s fine.” Hailey cut her friend off before she could finish the sentence. “It’s pretty late.”

“Alright, well Adam, V and I are gonna be staying here tonight if you need anything. Just give us a call, alright?”

“Thanks, Kim. I really appreciate it. Enjoy your break and good luck!”

“Good night, Hails.” The line went dead, leaving Hailey to her thoughts, wondering where her husband was, worst case scenarios running through her head. The last time he had gone awol, he’d gotten kidnapped, shot and almost died. She couldn’t go through that again. Not now. Not when they were about to have it all. With tears in her eyes, Hailey swore he would never forgive Jay if he left them alone.

About another hour or so later, the clock almost hitting three in the morning, Hailey was just about ready to give up, go to bed. She was exhausted, achy, and really, all she wanted was to know that Jay was safe. They could deal with this, whatever it was, in the morning. Hell she didn't even care if it meant that he’d continue avoiding her, and she’d have to wobble to the precinct in her pajamas. That being said, she knew sleep was her enemy tonight and the moment she would decide to go to bed, the oh so tempting sleep that had been trying to pull her into dreamland would disappear the moment her head’d hit the pillow. Not that sleep was really an option with their daughter kicking up a storm in her belly either.

“It’s okay, munchkin.” Hailey rubbed the spot she kept feeling the kicks. “It’s all gonna be okay.” Realizing she had no tea left, she threw her blankets off and stood up to stretch. If she was going to stay up, she needed to keep herself otherwise occupied. “Let’s get mommy some tea and you some of those cookies you crave so much.”

Hailey was about to head to the kitchen to get herself another cup of tea and get a snack when the sound of the door opening startled her. Her head instinctively turned towards the source of the noise, and watched frozen as Jay’s silent silhouette moved in the foyer. She held her breath as her eyes followed his every move: The way he snuck into his own house, the way he took his jacket and shoes off as quietly as possible, thinking Hailey was already asleep, the way he tiptoed further into the dark house. Watching his arm reach for living room light switch, Hailey prepared herself to face their current situation, and when the lights turned on, bringing the couple face to face, a loud silence surrounded them. “Hails? Why are you awake? Everything okay? Is it the baby?” Jay listed his questions, alarmed.

“Yea, yea we are fine but I guess I should be the one asking you that.” Hailey shot back, needing him to know that what happened today was NOT okay. “What’s going on, Jay?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m fine.” He gave her his staple bullshit of an answer as he walked further in and towards her in the living room. “Just a long day at work.”

“Well, I know for a fact you’re not “fine”, so wanna try again?” Hailey crossed her arms over her chest, her words stopping him on his tracks to walk over to greet her.

“I-” He started but seemed to be at a loss of words.

“Jay, I’m worried about you.” She cut him off at the realization that he needed a push before he’d really open up. “You haven’t picked up your phone or answered any of my texts and I had to find out from Kim that you had a rough day. What’s going on?”

“Hails, I’m just really tired and just want to go to sleep.” He was hiding behind an excuse, but at least it was an honest one, and Hailey considered that a good start.

“Alright, if that’s what you want, we can go to bed. I’m glad you’re safely home.” She told him with a flat yet soft tone. She didn’t want to discourage him from opening up, but his actions had terrified and hurt her, and she couldn’t just pretend that it was all fine now that he was home. “But we are gonna talk about this, Jay.” She added, letting him know he wasn’t off the hook. “What happened today, the radio silence… The last time that happened, I almost lost you and the thought of losing you, especially while I can’t even be out there,” The memory of what Angela Nelson put them through hitting her straight in the pregnancy hormones and feelings, she could feel tears welling in her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry. She refused to. “It, it terrified me,” She looked down her body in an attempt to avoid his eyes and blink away the tears as she protectively put both her hands on her bulging belly. “It terrified us.” She sighed. “We, we have to talk about it.”

“I can’t do anything right, can I?” Jay muttered more to himself than Hailey, disappointed in himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew he shouldn’t have pushed Hailey away, but this case, these past few days, then what happened in the morning… It had brought up so many painful memories, so much rage, so much fear that he simply hadn’t known where to start. “You must hate me for what I put you through today, huh?”

“I don’t hate you, Jay. I will never hate you.” Hailey’s voice softened. “But I hate that after all this, you’re still trying to lie to me.”

“Hails…”

“Yes, Jay?”

“This case has been terrifying.” He started to confess. “When we found that pregnant girl, the way her body was left behind, all I could think of was you and what I would do if I found you like that.” He was finally opening up. “Then we found out that one of the suspects is an old army buddy of mine and when we interviewed him today…” He shook his head, the memory of the interrogation room replaying in his mind and he collapsed on the couch in defeat. “He looked me in the eyes and said “You’d make pretty babies. Should consider changing careers.” with the smuggest smile, and Hailey, the things I wanted to do to him for bringing our kid into it… And then all my anger turned into this fear of failing you and Aislyn and, God, Hailey, it paralyzed me. I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“Jay,” She got it. She really did, but the silence and distance had hurt. “Holding everything in doesn’t help you know.” She told him as she walked over to take a seat next to him and put a supportive hand on his back. “Why didn’t you tell me what was happening?”

“I know I should have.” He looked at her with tear sheathed eyes, his greens tired and broken. “I mean I know I could have come to you. I trust you more than I ever trust myself, but I didn’t want to worry you especially with how close you are to your due date. It felt like by burdening you with my worries, I’d be failing you two before we even became parents.”

“I understand, Jay, but not knowing what was going on with you and having to call our friends and family only to find out from Kim that you’ve been having a rough time with this case worried me so much. I felt like an outsider and not your wife and best friend.” She took a deep breath, giving Jay some time to process her words. “Your worries and fears and rage will never be a burden on me, Jay. We said for better or for worse when we said I do. Being pregnant doesn’t change that.”

“God, I love you and I’m so damn sorry.” Jay pulled Hailey into his body and apologized with a broken voice upon realizing how much he had hurt her. The last thing he wanted to do had been to hurt her, but he realized trying to not be a burden was more hurtful to their partnership than anything. “I promise I’ll do better.”

“I know you will.” Hailey snuggled into his embrace before turning in his arms to be able to look him in the eyes again. “I love you, Jay.” She cupped his cheek in her one hand, and grabbed and guided his hand to rest over her belly with her other. “We love you. Unconditionally. Just remember that the next time you feel overwhelmed and I’m not there.” Feeling their daughter’s kicks under their palms, Jay leaned down to press a kiss on her lips; a kiss meant to seal his promise, to show his love, to give them both hope that they were stronger for facing their challenges.

Their last few days had really taken a toll on both of them, but with everything out in the open now, and promises of love and hope had been made, they knew they could tackle anything as long as they trusted in each other, even when they didn’t trust themselves.

So when they finally got into bed, tightly holding one another close, their daughter’s soft movements between them, they finally got the relieved rest they had been needing that day.

- @puckluck28

#cpd!ss2020 #chicagopd #chicago pd #upstead #one chicago #hailey upton #jay halstead #haileyupton #jayhalstead #jayxhailey #haileyxjay

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

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You've probably seen me and my asks/reposts/reblogs a few times and if not I mean- Anyways! I'm craving some BAMF! John content bc who wouldn't want that in their life? Also- I really love all that you do for the fandom and your followers. (I was an old Nonny who spoke about being asexual. I was wrong and I mean it happens-) But yeah you are super duper amazing and I hope one day I can do the same for others

Hey Lovely! <3

Aww, it’s okay to change your labels when figure out who you are (I certainly have)! I have a lot of asks from ace nonnies, so I’m not sure which one is yours, hahah. That said, don’t feel bad for identifying as one thing until recently... it’s normal. <3

Ah, yes, we all love a badass mother-fuckin’ John!! I’ve only done one list related to it, so I’ll link to it below :) As always, I encourage everyone to add their own fics to the list below!

Thank you for your kind words, and I hope you enjoy what I’ve got for you! <3

BAMF and/or SOLDIER JOHN