#but hey! let the worlds that be twiddle their thumbs a little longer

[strangeracrossthestreet]

credits for the images:

letstalkpalestine

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen react to you ignoring them for your dog

requested by @cinnamoroxie : "svt w an s/o that has a super hyper golden doodle.. and svt gets jealous cuz you’re giving more attention to the dog than to him"

masterlist

seungcheol

whiny, so so whiny. gets jealous instantly. the moment your dog pads into the room and your eyes are no longer on him, he's demanding your attention back and pouting and looking all sad. is acting like a puppy himself, actually. doesn't even care if your puppy is the cutest thing in the entire world because he's meant to be your cutest puppy.

jeonghan

goes all "hey >:(((" when he sees that you're not paying attention to him, but then he looks behind him to see the dog and he's all "!!! so cute!!!" coos over your dog for like ten minutes but when you end up paying more attention to it rather than him he's all "hey >:(((" again bc yeah your doggo is pretty but he's pretty too???

joshua

your dog doesn't even come over to you, it goes over to joshua. you're not paying attention to what shua says purely because your puppy just looks so comfortable in shua's arms as if he was the one to own your pup. joshua acts like nothing is wrong at all tho, n keeps pouting telling you to look at him while he's talking :(((

junhui

just starts ignoring you in favour of cooing over your dog too. your dog had come in at some point while you'd been together in the living room, but an hour later and the pup has been getting a little wriggly and you've been distracted. so, in return, junhui baby talks to your dog constantly and pretends you don't exist until you're laughing and pouting for him to look at you too

hoshi

he's devastated. heart broken. "you love a dog more than you love me????" begrudgingly admits that your doggo is cute but he's still cute too so why don't you coo over him :(( "okay be honest if i were a tiger and not a person would you still love a dog more? yes??? but i'd be a tiger!!"

wonwoo

you purposefully start ignoring him when your dog walks into the living room, but wonwoo just stays completely silent until you finally look up to look at him. he's just smiling at you, so softly, watching you play with your dog. goes "i never knew you had a dog 😊" so sweetly like he didn't even know you were plotting against him bc he just thinks you're so cute

woozi

sits there twiddling his thumbs when you start ignoring him favour of humouring your hyper puppy, but when you smile and apologise for cutting him off he just grins and asks if he can pet your dog too ^^

minghao

he doesn't mind your dog, in fact he loves your dog, but now you've started ignoring him in favour of petting it and so he's a little upset. and petty, so he ends up regaling your dog with his life stories instead of you, and so now he's the one ignoring you in favour of your dog instead

mingyu

you don't have a dog wym it's just him. he's your dog. nonono you don't own an actual puppy, he's your puppy. your dog scratches against the door whining to be let in and join your conversation and he just goes "what dog :|". doesn't let you use your dog as a jealousy ploy bc he is your dog okay

dokyeom

doesn't even care pls bro is ignoring you first. your mother comes back into the house from walking your dog while he's staying over and he immediately has tunnel vision for the adorable little puppy alone. you don't even exist to him anymore, he's just cooing at the adorable puppy for the rest of the time he's there. promises to come back again very soon. for your dog, that is.

seungkwan

gets offended for all of five seconds when you stop talking when your dog comes into the room but then you show him your dog and he's just absolutely enamoured by the adorable puppy, cooing and asking you a million questions ranging from how old your dog is to whether he's allowed to steal it

vernon

you get distracted when your dog starts whining for your attention and stop listening to him talking but he doesn't even care bc he's just smiling and taking a video of you cooing over your puppy bc he's never seen you baby talk anyone or anything like that before and it's adorable

chan

ends up just playing with your dog with you fr. doesn't even register that you ended up ignoring him bc honestly if he was you then he'd definitely also ignore you to play with such a hyper and adorable puppy. you still try to ignore him to make him jealous but it doesn't work bc your dog ends up loving chan more than u so they're both ignoring you instead

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[cauliflowertree]

blurb night!!

remus or sirius x reader and y/n is sick and keeps trying to down play it but he always knows better

remus lupin—let me love you

summary: remus wants to take care of you.

word count: 0.6k

fanfic no. 021

remus knows what it looks like to hide suffering behind a well-worn mask and a convincing smile. he knows the amount of effort and energy, the lengths you have to go to, to make it seem like the affliction is minor, that simply turning up to classes isn't a labouring chore. and it was precisely these reasons as to why remus knew you were hurting.

sitting in the library, hunched over a book and slumped to one side against the wall, just to offer some sort of relief to your muscles, remus winced. he walked over cautiously, for he knew that without doing it properly, you'd protest until he left the subject buried.

"alright, love," hey said softly, sitting beside you.

perking up, you smiled at remus and, for the moment at least, left the world of herbology behind. "yeah, you?"

"i'm okay," remus replied, twiddling his thumbs and wondering how best to approach the subject. "you been here long?"

"a few hours," you sighed, flicking through the book's pages aimlessly.

"maybe you should call it a day," he suggested. "it's friday, you can afford to give yourself a break tonight."

remus lupin was suggesting you took the night off? when the exams were only two weeks away? he was only coming to the library to study himself, why should he suggest you'd had enough when you knew he'd been studying far longer than you throughout the day.

"you're not," you shrugged. "why should i?"

remus sighed and shook his head. you weren't going to make this easy. truly, there was no shame in being ill. remus had to accept that for a week each month, at minimum, he was forced to take it easy and preserve his energy, regain his strength.

"you don't look very well, love," remus said after some silence.

"what do you mean?" you scoffed, avoiding his eye.

"i mean, i think you should get some rest. i know there's a cold going around," he added pointedly.

"so? it's just a silly cold."

"silly colds can take their toll," remus reminded you. "you probably shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning. but you can make up for it by going to bed now," he smiled, forcibly closing your book.

"but-"

"no buts, i'll walk you there myself," he said smugly.

perhaps you were feeling a little drowsy. you'd been working all day, attending classes and trying not to wince every time someone said your name too loudly or cringe at the noise in the corridors. you'd barely eaten—you'd lost your appetite—and sitting with your back hunched against the wall was the most comfortable you'd been all day. and anyway, if you got up early tomorrow-

"and i know what you're thinking, but you're on bed-rest tomorrow, and i won't hear any arguments."

"but rem, i need to study."

"you are one of the most prepared people i know. a couple of days won't hurt your chances of getting Os."

you smiled bashfully, for remus knew you inside and out. when everyone else saw your façade, remus saw a brave face and an act of stoicism. he took care of you, you took care of each other. so you followed him willingly, not another argument slipping past your lips or even entering your thoughts.

remus pulled out your favourite pyjamas, and as you went to change, pulled back the sheets of your bed, ready for you to climb in. with a quick, chaste kiss to your lips, remus slipped quietly from your dorm, deciding to finish the rest of his work nearby in case you needed anything.

🏷 @cherrystrees @sw34terw34ther @imabee-oralizard @mad-elia @velvetcloxds @natashxromanovf @masivechaos @ell0ra-br3kk3r @garfieldsladybird @flesh--amnesiac @maricoolerthanme @uwiuwi

[alienguts]

Spectacular (Ash Williams x f!Reader)

Summary: Y/N needs glasses and wants Ash to help her pick some out.

Warnings: fluff, friendly teasing

Request?: No

A/N: This one goes out to my glasses wearing babes out there. I am not one which is a shame because I look good in glasses. Also, I know that it takes much longer for prescription lenses to come in but this is a magical fictional opticians where they have things instantly.

Ash had spent fifteen minutes twiddling his thumbs in the optometrist waiting room, watching the rerun game show on the world’s smallest television set. He’d told Y/N multiple times that she didn’t need him to accompany her to her eye test, but she’d insisted so much that he eventually caved. He didn’t know anything about eyes except what it felt like to stand on one, and that was something he wished he didn’t know.

Eventually, Y/N came out of the exam room, the eye doctor in tow and a piece of paper in her hand. He looked up as he heard them come in and saw how her lips were pursed into a hard line.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking between Y/N and the doctor.

“I need glasses,” she said. 

Is that it? Ash thought as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, ignoring the doctor.

“Hey, it’s not the end of the world, honey,” he soothed. “I bet you’ll look cute in glasses.”

“I’m not worried about that, Ash,” Y/N said as she shrugged his arm off of her. “It’s how much they’re gonna cost. I don’t exactly have all the money in the world.”

“Oh. Well, we’ll figure something out.”

The doctor cleared his throat briefly, drawing their attention back to him.

“If you’ll both follow me, we’ll try some frames out.”

Ash had expected to spend another fifteen minutes twiddling his thumbs while Y/N tried on glasses, but it turned out that he was quite keen to help her find a good frame.

“What about these?” he asked as he held up a thin framed pair with perfectly round lenses. Y/N immediately scrunched her nose at them.

“Nah, I’d look like John Lennon in those,” she said but still took them from him. She placed the glasses on her face and took one look in the mirror before turning back to Ash. 

“See?” she said. “They’re too Lennon for me.”

“I dunno, I think you look cute in them,” Ash said. 

Y/N immediately turned back to the wall of frames, embarrassed by him complimenting her in a public place. She picked up a pair with square lenses and settled them on her face before turning back to Ash.

“How about these?” 

“Now those are cute,” he said as he took her face in his hands and angled her chin around, as if he was trying to get a good look at her from all angles.

“I like these too,” Y/N said as she tried to suppress a laugh. 

“You look like a cute librarian,” Ash said and let go of her face before kissing her gently. He felt how her face immediately heated up against his and smiled against her lips before drawing away again.

“Okay,” Y/N said, trying to not look so flustered. “These are a definite yes, I just need a spare pair.”

“You mean we gotta keep looking?” Ash whined. “Can’t you just get two of the same?”

“I could, but I want a different pair too,” she said and turned back to the wall to look at the frames again.

Ash let his eyes wander over the display and immediately pulled a random pair off the wall.

“How about these?” he asked and placed them onto his own face.

“Ugh, no,” Y/N bristled. “I’d look like a serial killer in those.”

“I guess they are a little creepy when they’re not sunglasses,” Ash said and put the frames back. “Hey, I’m gonna leave you to it, I gotta use the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N said. “I’ll probably be here a while so don’t rush yourself.”

Ash took his time, as Y/N had said to, coming back to the store just as she was paying. Her back was to him as she took a bag from the assistant, presumably with her new glasses inside. He took quiet steps as he crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She jumped slightly when she noticed him but rested a hand on her wrist as she finished her conversation and thanked the assistant.

“Ready to go?” he asked as she turned round to face him.

He was surprised to see Y/N already wearing her new glasses: a pair with black frames and mid-sized lenses that sat perfectly on her face. They were better than any pair he would have picked for her and just made her cuter.

“Hey, you made a good choice,” he said and gently took hold of her chin to turn her face to different angles. “You suit them.”

“You think so?” Y/N said, her face warming. “I was worried you wouldn’t like them for a second.”

“You kidding?” Ash said as they left the store together. “Nah, you look cute in them.”

Y/N smiled and reached up on her tiptoes to gently kiss him. “Thank you, honey.”

 “You’re welcome, poindexter.”

“Why did I have a feeling you would end up teasing me?” Y/N said with a laugh.

“You just know me so well, baby,” Ash crooned. “I could say other things to you. How about if I said you look like a sexy librarian?”

“I’ll think about that one, just don’t tease too much or you’ll get it.”

"Can't wait," he said and took her hand in his to lead her to the parking lot.

[blackbat05]

Be My Shelter

Carter Hall x Reader

Plot: A series of misfortunes in a day leads you to meet the leader of JSA. Using prompt - “it’s raining and they huddle together under the roof” but with a special twist😉

Genre: PG-13

A/N: Guess who almost did it in less than three hours? After that breakthrough, I thought why not? As usual, congrats to @tom-whore-dleston and also tagging @wint3r-h3art since I saw from the previous story y’all are interested in his fics? No pressure though😬

You ran past the newspaper stand, throwing out apologies as you bumped into several people. The world really was against you sometimes.

Your alarm didn’t ring, the train broke down and now you’re here.

Holding your bag close, you attempt to weave through the morning crowd to some degree of success.

Some degree.

You felt a hard tug on your shoulder and you see a masked individual running away with your bag.

“Hey! Come back here you bastard!” You tried to battle with the influx of people going against you, finally managing to push your way through to see the culprit run down the street. Apparently, no one was interested in helping you - getting to work was evidently more important.

Still, you weren’t going to give up. Putting all your energy into your legs, you sprint in the same direction, determined to catch up with the robber.

As you turned into the next street, you’re shocked to see a small crowd forming up ahead. Curious, you head to the scene to see the same person who took your belongings being held down by a man wearing a burgundy suit and dress shoes that you swore could burn a hole in your pocket.

Walking to the front with muttered apologies, you stand in front of the man who was holding down the struggling robber with ease. In fact, the man looked almost unbothered.

“Is this yours?” He refers to your bag which you meekly nod.

“Thank you.” You placed a hand at your side, trying to get back your breath. “I’m so sorry but I really do have to get back to work. Do you think?”

His low baritone chuckle makes you twiddle your thumbs behind your back awkwardly.

“I got this. You can go.”

You bow in gratitude, scampering off to find the quickest bus to get to work.

Carter Hall watches your retreating back with interest, lingering gaze only broken when he can no longer see your figure.

***

Another day, another battle fought. You trudged out of the office with your colleagues, the enforced camaraderie of office life being reiterated once again.

Waving goodbye, the group splits into their respective directions and you find yourself alone again.

The thunder rumbles above and you immediately search for your umbrella without much success. Just great.

There was still a while before the bus stop. You calculate the distance to the nearest shelter. No way you could make it with the impending thunder cloud looming over you. You just had to make do with what you had - control damage.

Taking out your cardigan, you held it over your head, continuing in a brisk walk.

The rain starts to get heavier and you are forced to slow down. You were determined to not make the end of the day as horrible as it started, bravely going forward despite your vision being limited by the downpour which was bound to soak you.

The squelch of your socks against the insoles of your shoes finally brings you back to reality. You can’t help but to tear up a little at the subpar day you had.

The rain stops and your positive that your exhausted mind is playing tricks on you. Glancing from the fabric of your cardigan, you see a golden wing shielding you from the torrential rain.

A man wearing a eagle shaped mask in the same shade of gold stands close to you, brown eyes piercing into yours.

“Hawkman.” Your breathed out, eyes widening. “Uh… thank you. Really.”

“Can I walk you back?”

You didn’t have much of an option being stuck in the middle of nowhere and your unlucky streak had bought you here.

“I would appreciate that.”

You notice that his other wing was at his side, letting the rain hit his armor.

“Are you not tired?” You asked, pointing at the wing that was shielding you from the rain. The innocent question throws Carter Hall off slightly and he chuckles. You freeze for a moment.

Where did you hear that sound before?

“My wings are made of a special metal. It won’t be that easy for me to tire out.”

You nod at his explanation. At a closer look, the gold metal was truly an art itself.

“Can I?”

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers move towards the metal, gently caressing the wings that you saw so often on television.

Feeling the hero’s gaze, you retreat your hand back quickly, not wanting to overstep.

With his company, you almost don’t realize that you had reached your destination. You see the front lights of the bus and for once, you wished that your dirt luck today would continue for a while more.

“Thank you again. I wouldn’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.” You smile to which he returns in kind.

You really want to stay just for a little longer but the doors to the bus has opened and the driver looks at you impatiently.

Carter carefully guides you onto the steps of the bus before lowering his wings down.

You move to back of the bus, getting a seat. Turning back, you see the glint of golden armor in the rain. Carter doesn’t move from his spot until the back of the bus finally turns into a corner. He checks his surroundings before flying into the sky.

He’ll see her again. He just knows it.

[bi-bard]

and he feels like home - Jack Hodgins Imagine (Bones)

Title: and he feels like home

Pairing: Jack Hodgins X Reader

Song Drawn: long story short

Word Count: 570

Warning(s): none

Summary: The aftermath of an important meeting for both (Y/n) and Hodgins.

Author's Note: Sorry that I disappeared for a moment. I'm working on a personal project and potentially getting a Patreon set up!! If anyone wants to see that, let me know.

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

I was in my office, just kind of twiddling my thumbs.

I had no work to do right now.

I would usually go visit Jack and ask if he needed any help, but I couldn't now.

Cam had told us off for too much PDA at work. She assumed that it was interrupting our work. It wasn't... but she still wanted us to be separate more.

Now, I was just sitting and trying to waste time. Trying to not feel guilty. I don't even think I deserve to feel guilty. I just didn't know what to feel about the whole thing.

"Hey," I looked up from my desk to see Jack in the doorway.

"Hi," I let out a small sigh as I smiled.

"I expected to get a visit from you after the case was over," he explained as he circled my desk and leaned against the edge. "What happened?"

I shrugged. I was hoping to play off the entire incident with Cam. However, Jack knew me too well.

"It's about our meeting with Cam, huh," he asked. I reluctantly nodded. "She only meant when we had a case."

"I know, but I'd rather just avoid making people uncomfortable," I replied.

"That's not all that's there, is it," he tilted his head a little bit.

I rolled my eyes and looked down.

"Nope," he grabbed my hand and gently pulled me out of my chair. He wrapped his arms around my waist so he could pull me closer. "What's going on?"

I couldn't find the words.

"Come on," he leaned his forehead against mine. "I don't want you to be upset with me. What is it?"

"You just seemed to agree with Cam really fast," I mumbled. "And I felt stupid for focusing on it, but I wanted to make sure that you were comfortable."

Jack seemed to be thinking about what he had said during that meeting. I felt like I should've just dropped it. I should've kept it to myself and stopped making a big deal out of nothing.

"You know, I'm sorry-"

"No," he shook his head. "I didn't know that upset you. I'm sorry. I was trying to smooth things over with Cam because you seemed stressed about it."

"Oh," I muttered.

"I should've talked about it with you, I'm sorry," he pulled me into a hug. I hid my face into his shoulder.

I let out a small sigh of relief, "It's okay."

His hand gently rubbed my back. I tightened my hold on him. We stood there in silence for a few moments longer before he broke the silence.

"What's going on in your head," he asked quietly.

"That this feels like home," I replied. I chuckled at how sappy I sounded. "Sorry. I just... I messed up a lot along the way. Some not-so-great guys. Finding you was the best thing to happen to me. I love you."

"I love you too," he mumbled, kissing the side of my head. "Wanna head home?"

I stepped back just enough that I could look at his face.

"Early?"

He nodded, "The case is over. We don't have any work to do. Why not?"

I smiled and nodded back at him. He leaned over and kissed my forehead.

"Get your coat," he said, almost running from my desk to go and grab his things.

I laughed and shook my head.

I had gotten truly lucky.

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

Masterlist

What I Write For

Request Guidelines

Musical Prompts

Small Moments With…

When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who Crossover Series) Masterlist

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

[purple-babygirl]

request?🥺🐺 Just when you can, Maybe one with Sam and Bucky fighting/argument maybe one almost could’ve gotten killed and the other was being too reckless and scaring Little reader thinking they might break their whole relationship apart saying such things (ya know when ur angry) and She intervening but say something like “Daddy’s are talking right now!” And arguments heated and then it’s comforting telling reader they’re not going anywhere showing little that they still love each other -🐺

Pairing: SamBucky x little!f!reader

Warnings: ddlg dynamics, polyamory, yelling and a couple of curses.

Word Count: 1,950

A/N: White wolf nonnie love, even your request is cute😭 you're the best nonnie in the world and I hope you like this one🥺💜💜 I'm sorry it took me a while, love, I didn't mean to keep you waiting so long. Please enjoy xx.

misunderstanding

Aside from the laughs Sam might pull from her and Bucky, their house was mostly quiet. It was always peaceful and serene. But that wasn’t the case that night. Sam and Bucky have been arguing for a while now, their voices only growing louder, and the glares on their faces deeper. She wanted it to be over; she just wanted her calm, understanding and loving daddies back.

“Dada,” she called, her voice hushed as she tried holding Bucky’s hand. She knew she shouldn’t interfere but they wouldn’t stop.

“Daddy and papa are talking, doll. Go to your room.” Bucky took his hand out of hers, waving her away before he shouted something in reply to an equally loud Sam.

She jumped but neither man noticed before she was running to her bed, hiding herself under the covers. She could still hear their loud voices and it made her heart beat so fast. Papa and Daddy barely got so mad at each other and it frightened her little self to no extent. They were yelling and even using bad words; that was how angry they were.

“But it's okay when you do it?!!” Bucky shouted, the veins on his neck prominent.

“I can fucking fly! You were on the ground right before them, begging for them to shoot your ass!” Sam reasonably argued, a frown inhabiting his fine features as his sharp voice echoed through the house.

“Well, that didn't fucking happen so why are we even having this stupid conversation again!”

“Because you never seem to actually listen no matter how many times we have this stupid conversation!”

“That's because I know what I'm doing!” Bucky barked, his finger poking his chest.

“If you're not gonna listen maybe we shouldn't be together then!” when fighting bad guys, Sam should’ve added.

But he didn’t and it made her slowly pull her head out of her blanket, concern bubbling around her heart. Daddy wasn’t going to agree to this, was he? Papa and Daddy loved each other. They could never not be together.

“Maybe we shouldn't!” Bucky yelled back, his stare intense as he looked at a similarly livid Sam.

Her heart sank to her stomach at Daddy’s reply and tears pricked her eyes.

“Fine!” Sam threw his arms in the air, giving Bucky his back and that was Bucky's cue to leave.

He walked out of the door, noisily slamming it behind him without looking back.

“Papa.” Sam heard her choked voice behind him and knew he was going to be met with her tears when he turned around.

“Sugar, go wait in bed.” Sam sighed, fingers pressing to his closed eyes as he tried to calm down, “papa will be there in a minute.”

He needed to get it together for her. She had no hand in their fight and it wasn't fair that she gets sent to bed without a bedtime story just because Bucky thought it was a good night to practice stubbornness.

~

“What would you like papa to read for you tonight, baby?” Sam asked, showing her the stories they had that she knew and loved all too well.

“When’s daddy comin’ back?” she asked instead, innocently speaking Sam’s thoughts.

“Soon, baby.” Sam avoided eye contact, flipping through the books.

“How soon, papa?” she pressed.

“Just soo-”

“In ten minutes?” Her big, anxious eyes stared at Sam, wanting a satisfying answer.

“Sugar.” The man sighed, not knowing what to tell her. He was already exhausted enough and it was just becoming too much.

“An hour?”

“Baby, here, pick a story,” Sam tried again.

“'S dada comin’ back tonight?” she asked, tears swimming in her eyes.

“What? Yes, sugar. Of course he is!” Sam didn’t really know that, but it was what he was hoping would happen.

“Are you lyin’ to me, papa?” she sniveled, twiddling her thumbs.

“No, baby. Daddy’s coming ba-”

“Did daddy leave forever?”

“Suga-”

“A-Are you gonna leave me too?”

“Baby.” Sam shook his head, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder “no, sugar, no. No one is leaving.”

“You promise?” she sniffed, the back of her hand swiping under her nose.

“I promise, baby.” Sam nodded, helping her with a tissue.

“Dada’s not leavin' us?”

“No, baby. He’s not leaving. He just got a little angry with me is all. That happens sometimes.” Sam explained, putting the stories back in place. She was no longer going to require one.

“But he never left before.” She cried more.

“I know, sugar.” Sam held her to his side and rubbed her back, “but he’s coming back.” He kissed her hair.

“Can I stay up 'n wait for him?”

“No, baby, come on now. You need to go to bed in time like the good girl you are,” Sam told her gently, hugging her tighter so she’d calm down.

“Please, papa.” She held onto Sam’s hand.

“Sugar.” Sam gave her one look, supposedly stern, but she could see how drained he looked. He had no more argument in him.

“Yes, papa,” she sighed, laying on her back and letting Sam wipe her tears and tuck her in.

“Good girl, baby.” Sam gratefully kissed her forehead with half a smile, “night, sugar.”

~

It was at least 2 hours later and Sam was still awake. He huffed, turning on his side again, his hand reluctantly reaching for the phone on the bedside table before quickly retracting for the millionth time. Bucky was going to come back soon. There was no need for him to call and bother him. He probably left looking for some space; probably gathering his thoughts, and Sam wanted to give him that. He was worried but he would do it if it meant Bucky would have a clear mind again; if it meant he was going to come back faster-

“Papa.” She stood by the door, balled fist rubbing her eye.

“Hey, sugar.” Sam sat up and opened his arms. “What is it, baby? Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, can’t sleep.” She shook her head, taking slow steps to Daddy and Papa’s bed.

“You wanna try cuddling with papa?” Sam offered and she quickly nodded.

“Come here, sugar.” Sam pulled the covers open for her so she could slip underneath with him.

She gave Sam a big hug, holding him tighter than she usually would in such a heavy-eyed state and he could instantly sense her anxiety and worry.

“You’re okay, sugar. I got you,” Sam assured her, patting her back gently before she pulled back.

She waited until Papa was comfortable on his back then moved herself on top of his chest, humming at the warmth radiating off his body and buzzing through hers.

“I’m scared dada won’t come back,” she whispered in Sam’s neck, her fingers clutching his shirt.

“He will, sugar. I promise. Daddy will be here before you wake up tomorrow,” Sam comforted her, his concerned eyes glancing at the clock again. It was way past midnight already, where on earth was Bucky?

“How do you know, papa?” her knuckles rubbed her eye again as she yawned, snuggling more into Sam.

“He loves us too much not to come back, baby.” Sam’s big hand stroked her back calmingly, “Bucky will always come back.” He whispered, more to himself than to her, before he half-heartedly let his eyes close.

~

“Sam, I said I was sorry!”

She quickly spitted the toothpaste and washed her mouth when she heard Daddy’s voice downstairs. He didn’t sound too happy, but at least he was back. He wasn’t there when she woke up like Papa said he would be, but this was good too. He was there and that was all that mattered.

“Sorry? Sorry?!! I was worried sick about you and that’s all you have to say?!” Sam shouted, frustrated, and Bucky scoffed.

“Worried sick, right. Is that why I have no missed calls from you?! Not one! You didn’t even care to see where the hell I stormed off to or if I was okay!” He argued, his face following Sam’s when the man turned away.

“Dada,” her voice momentarily interrupted their fight as she collided with Bucky, her arms wrapping around his middle.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky greeted much softer, swallowing when he saw tears already gathered in her eyes.

“I thought you left papa and me forever,” she told him, hugging him even closer, pressing her forehead to his chest.

“What?” Bucky looked at Sam, panic in his eyes, and Sam gestured to her with a shrug saying ‘see what you did to us?’

Bucky exhaled, pulling her closer to him, his chin on her head, “I could never leave you, love. You’re my life,” Bucky said, his eyes on Sam’s.

Sam reluctantly broke eye contact, shaking his head and leaving the kitchen.

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing as regret enveloped him. His thumb caressed her cheek before he lifted her up, her thighs finding their way around his waist.

“Papa was really worried, stayed up all night,” she whispered to Bucky when her face was on level with his, “and- I thought you were leavin' papa,” her lips trembled as tears overwhelmed her, “and I thought you and papa were leavin' me.”

“Oh, doll, no, no,” Bucky shook his head as her tears triggered his own, “none of that is happening, love.”

“Promise?” she hiccupped.

“Promise. No one is leaving, love. Not me, not papa and definitely not you. I love you and papa too much to ever be without you, doll.” Bucky poured his heart out, unknowingly repeating Sam’s words.

She brushed the tear he let slip away, making him chuckle fondly.

“Jus’ like papa said,” she mumbled, her heart finally fully reassured, as she nuzzled Bucky’s neck, hugging him closely again.

Bucky’s feeling of regret grew even more when he caught her words.

Sam never doubted him for a second, not even when he walked out on him to rudely end a discussion he was the reason got heated. He trusted Bucky’s love for them and relied on it to bring him back sooner than later, but Bucky only kept him worried.

“I love you too, dada. Please don’t ever leave everrr again.”

“I won’t, doll. I’m not going anywhere.”

~

“Sam-”

“I didn’t call because I thought I was giving you space. Of course I cared where you stormed off to and if you were okay; I love you,” Sam admitted, finally looking Bucky in the eyes.

Bucky could see how sad he actually was; how distressed this whole fight has left him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice dripping with sincere remorse this time, “I’m so sorry, Sam. About everything. I just- I guess I didn’t know how to react. I’m not used to people looking out for me or caring about my wellbeing-”

“Yeah, well, you better start getting used to it because I’m not planning on stopping,” Sam replied, trying his best to keep the glare in his eyes present, yet miserably failing, his eyes softening for his one and only James.

“I love you, and I’m sorry,” Bucky repeated, walking closer to where Sam stood, “I’m sorry.”

“Give your cyborg brain a break; you’re forgiven.” Sam grinned, pulling Bucky in by the waist for a sweet kiss.

“I love you so much it’s uncountable,” Bucky whispered, making Sam smile even bigger as he kissed him again.

“I love you more.”

Feeling sound again as she watched from a distance, her big smile was back to lighting up her eyes. Peace and calmness filled the air again and her heart was content. Papa and Daddy didn’t lie to her; no one was leaving. They were solid; she was safe.

~~~~

Tags: @harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen

[mochikeiji]

Come Home

↠ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

↠ Warning: anxiety attacks, pregnancy, manga spoiler! chapter 91 (for those who have not read)

↬ Word Count: 2k

If death was giving you a sign at this very moment, it would be the cold ticks each second the clock on your empty apartment room echoed. Each second comes an outbursts of numerous emotions. On the first tick sent shivers on your skin, the second felt like small pricks of hair slowly rose up as goosebumps followed after, third was the frantic tapping of your foot on the carpeted floor as you bounced your leg.

On the outside, you would've been labelled as overreacting. On the inside, you were slowly dying.

As of now time felt like a never ending torture. It was a tug of war between trust in your husband or the one in your gut; a battle between mind and heart, to whom should you choose to believe in? How long do you plan on standing at the edge of the cliff not knowing the faith that has been laid out for you and the most powerful shaman? To whom do you concede to?

A critical position for you to be in. If Gojo were here beside you, not only would you have to wince at the feeling of his finger flicking your forehead, but also a round of uncharacteristic scolding about how bad it is to be stressed out or anxious because of the growing life inside of you. Well, none of this wouldn't have happened if he didn't left. But as all married couples are out there, you are one of the majority that did not want to tie their partners down from what they were meant to do. Especially if your partner is the most needed person in the world.

You couldn't tell him not to go out. Not out there on the field you've come to grow as a sorcerer yourself. The deaths of your fallen comrades and innocent civilians, the demands of the elders and powerful clans. Most of all, being part of the theatre death had directed. No one knows who'd be next to live another day or to be at forever slumber. And your husband was one of the main casts in this scene. Someone who'd always be near death's door only to keep taunting the horrifying God.

It was all fun and games before. It was either ride or die with Gojo during your youthful days. But as time progressed, and the upcoming family you both had dreamed of was at its peak, from that moment every thing came crashing down. It wasn't hormones anymore. It wasn't simple.

You were beyond terrified.

"Please come home."

Not even realizing you were already kneeling down from the couch you were seated, hands clasps together hard, the veins prodding out as if they were going to pop. A silent mantra of pleads to the unknown world you were stuck in. Chest heaving harshly, tears and snot mixing as they fell down the cushions. You didn't feel them. You couldn't see anything.

There was no way to describe the gaping hole that had swallowed you to your deepest depths of fear.

"Come home, Satoru.."

Was the last thing that had been uttered out from your lips before the dark hushes turned into soft cooes. The once imaginary prickly like nails that was scraping your body changed into gentle strokes on your back and onto your bulging stomach.

If there was no way to describe your fears, what is there to be said for the immense heart break of your own husband coming home to see you knelt down with cascading despair written all over your features? The image of the cheery, and powerful woman he's had of you now haunted by what he had came home to.

Though Gojo never had the brightest personality to everyone, he would trade every thing he has if it meant for you to be pulled out from where he had dragged you in.

He knew from the start loving you would mean a lot. You were every thing he wanted and yearned for in life. The love he always came home to. Cursing his naive self of erasing the fact that you were only human.

You had your limitations and this was it.

"Hey, wifey, shhh." the warmth of his breath next to your ear made you choke a sob. Having his body shield your smaller one from behind with his hands now trapping your still clasped ones. "I'm here, I'm not going any where. Not now or ever." his white hair tickling the side of your cheek as he rubbed the side of his face onto the your tear stained ones. If there was one thing everyone knew he was good at, it was being overly affectionate. Not that you'd complain.

His thumbs massages the back of your hands, smoothing down the veins in hopes of easing your grip. He should probably thank Yuuji for passing out hours ago, if not he'd be still stuck training the young lad and have you deal with this torment possibly longer. Even so, he was glad he had manage to finish up early. At your 7 month of pregnancy he wouldn't dare take longer. He didn't like being away, he never did. Always cursing at those who demand his presence. All he wanted was to stay home with you.

Home where everything is safe.

"Let's get you up, kay? May I carry you?" it was a shock on how uncharacteristically cautious he's become ever since your pregnancy. No one knew the Gojo Satoru knows when to tone it down on situations. It was all heart warming, you wanted to cry.

You gave him a small nod, feeling your body hoisted up from the floor and nested on top of his lap with ease. Never failing to amaze you how you managed to marry this man. The man you'd devotedly pray to the heavens would come back to you alive.

As his arms finally settled on your waist, moving at an upward then downward motion, he rubs your sides. Slowly coming to the globe of your stomach with a soft hum, he watches you deeply with a soft gaze behind his interfering blindfold.

Sighing shakily, you shifted your position a bit to the side, allowing yourself to lean your cheek on his left pectoral, listening to the rhythm his heart beat, sobs died down into sniffles and hiccups. You twiddled with his fingers placed on your stomach. The anxiety inside you barely disappeared, but tamed for the moment.

A light peck on your forehead was placed, snapping you back from the little world that had consumed you, down back in the arms of your beloved husband as he smiles and wipes away the left over tears, "Hi there, honey."

Focused on the warmth his palm emits, you reached out over his covered eyes, sliding away the blindfold, freeing the captivating azure gaze he possesses as they held nothing but love piercing back to your teary ones. His hair framing his adorning features, yet so perfect and lively he was smiling at you. The image of this man you wanted to wake up to every day. To welcome, to smile with, to live, and to love.

"Satoru.."

Cupping your cheeks in worry, the serene peace disappearing from him when his brows furrowed with his lips frantically hushing you. Parental instincts kicking in as he eyed your stomach in wonder how your dear child was holding up with the mountain of negative emotions crowding you, "Honey, you need to stay calm. Our little bun in there might have trouble baking you know?" he whispered close to your lips, foreheads leaned onto yours.

"Oh, Satoru." a broken smile formed from your quivering lips, "You're home, you're home." thumbs coming close to stroke his lids softly down to his cheeks. Fragile, that's how you'd describe yourself in touching your husband. Every day from the moment you lived with him are days you two cannot be separated from each other's lingering touches. Even so, on those days it still felt like it was too good to be true to have each other embraced away from the terrors of the world.

"I'm home, I'm home." sealing away your sobs with his lips to yours, letting you feel all of his emotions and unspoken vows within the action of only you two could share forever. The love he never knew he was capable of only for you and your child to be gifted of.

"I'm scared." pulling away as you shut your eyes. The dark hushes returning, coming back to haunt you of what is in store for tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and so on. The strings attached upon you two, unknowing who was in control of your faiths. "Satoru, I'm scared. Please don't go anymore."

Confessing all of your troubles, he tightens his hold around you. Not a chance, he curses in his head would he allow himself to be defeated so easily and submitting himself to the awaiting gates of death.

"What if you don't come back to me anymore?"

Not a chance, was he going to die after happiness is just within his reach. Longing for something so surreal his entire life. He wasn't going out without having a taste of the sweetness of he now calls home in his life. Not ever. Not when he knows he's the strongest and will continue to reign as he is.

"Honey loves, I'll always come home to you." a vow he seals with the gaze he has locked with yours. The golden band that was proudly worn on his finger from his left hand above your stomach, "I'll always come home to you both, my sweet loves." a vow for only the two people in his life that kept him going. He will always keep his word by heart.

Though it was known that it wasn't enough to fully assure you. The comfort of today was much appreciated and needed for you to finally sigh out one last bit of the sadness, and giving him a teary smile.

"I love you, Satoru."

A melodic sound his heart would crave for every day. Definitely another thing worth coming home if he could hear it again and again.

Smiling mischievously, he reciprocates the feeling by stealing another one of your kisses whilst cradling your body and stomach. He wonders how long would it take for your baby to come meet him. He could hardly wait anymore.

"I love you more."

Was the last thing he had said before his eyes shut close to bask in the warmth and safety of his domain. His and yours little domain. One day to be shared with either a mini you or him between your arms, erupting small giggles into the air.

He couldn't wait to come home to that very day.

Not to wake up another second.

Or was it a minute?

An hour?

He couldn't tell. For time was unpredictable inside the realm he was kept imprisoned.

"Oh, another dream."

An old memory he has with you over months ago.

A breathy chuckle comes out. Was it another thing to mock him of his moment of weakness? Where he could do nothing but lay down and wait for he knows nothing of what could and what was happening?

His bones were on fire. The caged rage inside of him waiting to be freed as he could hear the cackles of his own enemies having to won over him.

"Come home to me."

No, they have not.

The fight was still going. He knows deep down as his faith on his beloved students remains strongly as his love and promises to you. Somehow, some way, he will get out. Like before, time is the enemy. He could only hope that you're holding up for the mean time. It was only matter of time you would be giving birth as well.

And he wasn't planning on missing out the biggest part of his life.

Nor was he planning on letting his enemies run free easily. They were going to pay.

He was going to pay.

"I'm coming home. Wait for me."

Thus begins the string of faith as every thing is set into motion.

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[kuroopaisen]

impulse | fushiguro megumi

➵ megumi can't hold it in anymore. gn!reader. 1.4k

Megumi’s tense. He always is, around you.

Although, he usually doesn’t feel like his heart is about to hammer its way out of his chest at any given moment. No, that’s reserved for when you’re touching him.

And you’re doing just that, sat together in the alarmingly muggy infirmary as you tend to his wounds.

He’d be the first to admit that he could’ve left his last fight in better shape, but that isn’t quite how things played out. It’s a rather diverse set of injuries – some cuts on his forehead, a small gash along his chin, scratches on his knuckles, his palms, and his fingers… Typical fare.

He’d managed to clean his face before you’d come bursting into the infirmary, eyes ablaze with worry and rebuke. But you’d spared him the lecture, far too worried about the general state of him than anything else.

It’s late afternoon, and Megumi knows you should be relaxing by now. You deserve it. Instead you’re here, with him, playing nurse. The sun sets outside the window, bathing you in unfairly flattering golden light. It makes you hard to look at.

But if you notice Megumi’s apprehension, you say nothing. You’re too focused on his hands.

“You need to stop being so reckless,” you murmur, fingers brushing against his as you finish bandaging his knuckles.

Megumi grimaces. He’s not sure how, but you always seem to know when he’s been injured. Even if he’s making an active effort to keep it a secret from you – in a misguided attempt on his part to spare you the anxiety – you always find him.

And every time he tries to play his injuries off, every time he tries to tell you that he’s fine, really, it’s worse than it looks, you just glare at him with those aggravatingly expressive eyes of yours, your anger thinly veiling your heavy worry.

Today, however, his injuries don’t look too bad compared to the usual. Regardless, you worry. It makes him feel so… so…

He sighs heavily, too exhausted to even begin untangling the thoughts burning in his brain.

Your eyes are bright as you smile at him with a hint of mischief. “About to start brooding, hm?”

“No,” he grumbles.

You chuckle, your entire face lighting up with a smile. Megumi swears his heart constricts.

He doesn’t want you to worry. Every time you look at him with those sad eyes, asking him ‘what happened’, he can’t help but feel like a piece of shit. You shouldn’t be spending your time worrying about him. He doesn’t even know why you do.

“There you go,” you sigh, holding his hand with both of yours as you inspect your handiwork. Your hands feel so soft against his fingertips, warm yet not overwhelming. The thought of them obscures anything more logical.

“Thank you,” Megumi swallows, drawing his hand out of yours a little too hastily. He turns his hand over to admire your work. As usual, you’ve done an excellent job at wrapping his wounds. Firm, but not so tight it’ll disrupt blood flow.

“You don’t have to do this,” he sighs, flexing his fingers. They’re still a bit stiff, but they’re better than they were a couple of hours ago.

“I know,” you hum nonchalantly, tilting your head at him. “You need to stop saying that.”

Megumi resists the urge to flare his nostrils like a bull in some matador show. He feels like you’re always doing this for him; he’s not as reckless as Itadori, but he knows he’s still too blasé for your liking.

But that’s just how you are.

Soft. Gentle. Too kind for your own good.

Certainly not cut out for this world of violence.

Megumi’s eyes darken at the thought. He can’t help but wonder if it weren’t for him, for Itadori, for Kugisaki, then maybe you’d walk away. Maybe you’d be free from this grim waking nightmare. Maybe you could live as a normal teenager, worried about average adolescent things and crying over inane little dramas.

No fighting. No suffering. No death. That’s the life you deserve.

“Hey,” you murmur, eyes downcast as you fiddle with the hem of your jacket. “I… I don’t want to make assumptions or anything, but… if you’re worried about being a burden, you’re not.”

Megumi’s breath catches in his throat and his eyes widen.

“I-I mean, burden might be the wrong word, but…” You bumble, gaze firmly affixed to your own lap. “I just mean that sometimes you… you seem to feel… guilty, and I don’t want you to.”

Megumi swallows roughly, unable to take his eyes off your face. You look so… reticent. Like you’re afraid of saying something you’ll regret. How can he say that he doesn’t want you to be careful?

“I…” You break the tension with a sound almost no louder than a whisper. “I care about you,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs in your lap.

It’s not unusual for you to get Megumi’s heart racing. Sometimes a smile from you is enough to make his pulse quicken.

You’re cute, yes, but Megumi knows it runs a little deeper than that.

And sometimes – just sometimes – he lets himself hope. In moments like this, where you can’t quite seem to look at him, voice quiet and eyes sparkling, looking so innocent and earnest.

He doesn’t know what to say. What to do. He wants to say it back – he certainly cares about you, too. More than he’s comfortable admitting.

But he can’t just leave you hanging like this, letting your quiet little confession melt into the wooden walls of the infirmary.

You swallow awkwardly, fumbling around with your equipment. “Let’s do your forehead.”

He’s struck breathless as you lean in, fingers brushing against his forehead lightly as you inspect the damage. You’re close – alarmingly close, so close he can feel your breath against his nose, so close he can smell the faint sweet scent of your shampoo – and Megumi can’t take it anymore.

Fuck it, he thinks.

A large, bandaged hand cups your cheek and the next thing you know is that his lips are on yours, warm and soft and insistent.

You let out a quiet gasp and Megumi worries he made the wrong move.

But you lean into him, placing a hand on his knee to stabilise yourself. Your lips are so soft. Somehow softer than he’d imagined. There’s the faintest taste of your vanilla lip balm; that, perhaps, is what makes Megumi realise this is real. This is happening.

He’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him back. Neither of you know what you’re doing, fumbling awkwardly through it, but Megumi doesn’t care. He’s so lightheaded that he’s dizzy, and he’s forgotten how to breathe (and he doesn’t even know if he wants to).

But if he doesn’t breathe he’ll pass out, and that’ll just make you fret.

He pulls back reluctantly, his breath ghosting your lips as his face lingers close to yours for a second longer.

“Was that… too much?” He swallows, eyes more intense than usual as he finds the courage to meet your startled gaze.

Your own eyes are wide, but they’re sparkling. It’s a look Megumi knows well – one he’s silently vowed to protect. You’re happy. No, that’s too plain of a word. You’re… joyful. Thrilled. Something of that ilk.

“No,” you smile, shaking your head ever so slightly, “I… I liked it.”

Such a simple sentence, yet such an avalanche of emotion within them. He may not be the best at reading people, but even Megumi can glean what you really mean.

Megumi considers, for a moment, that this might be a dream. That there’s no way he’d kiss you on impulse and that you’d kiss back, and that you’d like it. That you’d tell him you like it. That you’d smile like this.

But he feels alive. And it’s the first time in a while that he realises he doesn’t need to be in the thick of battle to feel this way.

“We…” He swallows once more, brows drawn together as he searches desperately for the courage to continue on. “We could… keep doing it. If you’d like.”

It’s such a stupid question, so teenage, and yet you respond with such earnest sincerity that Megumi’s heart aches.

Your entire face lights up, and perhaps it’s the most humbling thing that’s happened to him today.

Once again, your words are simple, but strong enough to move a tsunami. “I’d like that.”

[theringers]

counting crimes - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, part three

summary: “wandering eyes and comfortable lies, you seem to sleep just fine” counting crimes / nessa barrett

a/n: i’m thinking there’s only gonna be two more parts but that may change, we’ll see. enjoy this and let me know what u think! feedback is always appreciated xoxo

also this gif today killed me

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, semi public sex shocker!, lil angst, cocky pierre

Your eyes widen as you try to comprehend what to do. Someone was at the door and Pierre was still inside of you, in shock. “Hey, y/n? Are you in there?” Max’s voice could be heard through the door. He tried to push the door in but the deadbolt stopped him.

You glared at Pierre, cleared your throat and placed a finger on his lips. “Yes, give me a few seconds.” You panicked and pulled your dress up, trying not to make too much noise.

Where the fuck was Pierre supposed to go? You should have just kept quiet. Your eyes focused on the window and you pointed towards it, quietly shoving him out.

He squeezed himself through the window and stepped down onto the grass. After quietly shutting the window, you looked in the mirror and readjusted your dress. Your hair needed some readjusting as well, so you quickly brushed through it.

You unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door to see your husband. “Hey,” he smiled at you, genuinely happy to see you.

“Hi, Max.” Your voice was shaking but you smiled to try to play it off. You usually had a good amount of time to psych yourself up before you went back to Max but you could still feel how Pierre had fucked you.

You were awful. He placed his hands on your hips and kissed your cheek. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re kind of hot.” He placed the back of his hand to your forehead.

“Yeah, it was really hot in there but I feel better now.” Hopefully he would buy that story.

“Well, if you’re feeling better now, I have an idea.” His hands rested on your hips again and pulled you into his body. “We have a few minutes to kill. What do you say we have a little bit of fun in here? It is our anniversary after all.” His lips found your neck and placed soft, gentle kisses on the skin. “You look so beautiful tonight, baby.” You were feeling sexually frustrated after being interrupted but he was right. It was your anniversary, so what the hell.

You leaned your neck to the side, inviting him in. “I love this dress, but it needs to come off.” He looked you in the eyes and smiled, reaching around for the zipper. He bent his knees and slowly pulled your dress to your ankles. His hands rested around your calves and move upwards while his lips trailed kisses on the soft skin of your thighs.

His finger pushed aside your panties and he slid a finger between your folds. “Jesus baby, you’re so wet.” He smiled and looked up at you. You moaned and rolled your eyes into the back of your head to avoid making eye contact with him. His tongue found its way between your legs, licking lightly before fucking your pussy with his tongue. You let out a moan while your body jerked toward his face uncontrollably. You needed him to finish you off so badly.

His fingernails ran lightly over the skin on your abdomen down to your thighs. “Oh, Max” you moaned.

Your hand quickly covered your mouth, remembering that even though he wasn’t out there possibly listening there were other people who shouldn’t hear you right now either.

He pulled his suit pants down and took himself in his hand, smiling at you. “I love you,” he said before entering you. He pressed against your body and thrusted up into you while looking in your eyes.

“I love you too, baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a moan.

Sometimes you forgot what it was like to have sex without the looming threat of someone finding out. Instead of worrying about someone catching you cheating, you were able to focus on the sensation and the intimacy but even now, something was missing.

Max left the bathroom before you, allowing you more time to clean up and look normal. You didn’t want to draw any more attention. “Hey guys, sorry I wasn’t feeling to well.” You said, grabbing your napkin off the table and taking your old seat. Max looked flushed for obvious reasons and couldn’t hide his smile.

You turned to your left and smiled at Pierre and Anna. “Did I miss anything?” Pierre’s gaze was glued to the stage ahead and he refused to look at you. His jaw was clenched and you could feel the steam coming out of his ears. You made eye contact with Anna and cocked your head in confusion. Why was he acting this way? Maybe Anna thinks it’s something she did wrong.

“Nothing important, for us at least,” she said, fixing single pieces of her hair.

Max’s hand gripped your inner thigh and he looked over to you and smiled. You returned the smile but immediately looked in Pierre’s direction to see him still refusing to look at you, his fist balled at his side.

Hotels in random cities at 2 am are lonely. The sound of Max’s snores kept you awake longer than expected. Your mind was wandering to places you wish it wouldn’t and you couldn’t get silence long enough to dream. The air conditioner in the room was set to the coolest temperature - hotel air always hitting different. Your mouth was dry, making you uncomfortable and adding to another thing making you unable to sleep.

You pulled the covers aside in frustration and grabbed a pair of shorts to put on under Max’s oversized Red Bull Racing shirt. You looked around for the room key and slid it off the table as soon as you spotted it.

As you stood in the elevator, you looked down and noticed your bare feet. It was 2 am so you were hoping there was no one important in the lobby. You just wanted a sip of cold water to help put you to sleep.

The night before races always made you nervous. You never knew what was going to happen so you had a constant pit in your stomach over your husband’s safety. That stress only increased when you began sleeping with another driver. Someone else’s safety to worry about.

You smiled at the older couple that greeted you when the elevator door opened. You crossed your arms and tip toed to the mini bar, grabbing the largest bottle of water they carried. After giving the gentleman your room number, you ran towards the closing elevator doors only to be met with familiar blue eyes. His hair was messy and his skin was glowing from sweat.

“Don’t mind me,” he said, stepping to one side. Even though he clearly just worked out you could still smell the strong scent of his cologne. “How have you been, y/n?”

“I’ve been okay. Your summer break looked fun,” you took a quick sip of your water and smiled at him.

“As did yours.” The silence was uncomfortable. You two were always laughing and talking nonstop. It was what you loved about him.

You focused on the pounding of your heart and your eyes wandered, trying to pass the uncomfortable time.

You suddenly lost your balance as the elevator shook, the lights flickered off, and the cables stopped. Turning your head towards Pierre, you began to get worried.

“Did this just break?” He asked, pressing the floor buttons and hoping the lights would come back on.

“Just our luck.” You laughed at yourselves. Why did the universe hate you? You plopped down onto the ground and twiddled your thumbs, realizing that you left your phone in the hotel room. “Do you have your phone?” You asked Pierre.

He lifted his wrist to show his apple watch. “I just went on a run. I never bring it with me on a run.” Of course he didn’t.

You groaned and banged your head on the wall behind you.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” He laughed, pleased with himself. He slid down to join you on the floor, the summer heat starting to creep into the elevator.

After not speaking for the entire summer break, this unconventional meeting was quite uncomfortable. You watched on Instagram as him and his wife vacationed in Bali, looking happy as ever. Granted, he did the same with you but he would never admit it. He had too much pride.

“Why didn’t you ever reach out?” You asked him, bluntly.

He looked at you making you feel dumb. “Why do you think I didn’t? I spent four weeks straight with Anna. Would you want me calling you up while you were on holiday with Max?”

“I don’t know,” you stumbled over your words. “I just would have liked to talk to you.”

“I told you before, I can’t keep doing this.” He said, exhausted at the back and forth you two had done.

“Yet, you do. You tease me and torture me and then say you need to be devoted to her. It’s not fair to me.” You let out a deep breath, exhausted over feeling this way.

“You want to talk about fair? You had sex with Max right after me. Less than five minutes after I was inside of you, he was too.”

You looked at him confused.

“I thought you were just going to talk to him for a few moments and then send him off.” Oh no. “I was waiting for you to open the window and let me back in.” He ran his hands over his face.

“Pierre, I’m so-”

“Don’t, y/n.”

He heard you and Max. You felt remorse for doing it, putting Pierre through that. But at the same time, you didn’t. Pierre is sleeping with his friend’s wife. He has no place to be jealous or mad. He comes second.

“How much did you hear?”

“I left when I heard him talk about how wet you were. He thought it was because of him but he had no idea that it was all for me.” Pierre scooted closer to you and put his hand on your thigh.  “He has no idea how wet you get for me.” He moved in closer to your ear. “How good I make you feel.”

Your head spun at his words. When he made you cum, you forgot about everything in the entire world except for him.

“I’m really sorry, Pierre. That was shitty of me.” You rested your hand on his chest. “Let me make it up to you.” Your hand moved to his thigh and grazed over his thin mesh gym shorts.

You pulled his shorts off and took him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head. He pulled your loose hair into his hand as a makeshift ponytail. He let soft groans escape his lips, being mindful of the setting. He would look down to see you taking him fully and have to look away or else he would finish quicker than he would like. Each time his eyes trailed down, his hips thrusted uncontrollably and a grunt would leave his lips.

“That’s it baby,” he said, in a low tone but almost whining. “God, your mouth feels so good. It was made to take my cock.” He continued to fill your mouth and throat, making you gag and tighten around him.

He pulled your head up by your hair and looked at you. “Come sit on my face.” He looked at your outfit, examining how he could take it off in the easiest way possible. He slipped off your comfortable sweat shorts, leaving you in just your Red Bull tee.

He laid down on the ground and hoisted your legs up and around his chest, getting the perfect view of your ass.

You stroked his cock and started to grind your hips against his chest. He took you in his hands immediately, not up for teasing, and pulled you onto his face. You rocked your hips over his face at a slow, light pace while still focusing on taking him in your mouth.

His tongue flicked your clit while his thumbs massaged your ass, pressing down hard and most definitely leaving bruises.

You moaned at the feeling of your legs beginning to tingle. He loved to 69 with you because every time you got an ounce of pleasure, your moans vibrated around his cock. You would tighten your throat and gag, sending him down a spiral. You both knew how to make each other feel incredible.

His facial hair tickled your inner thighs and left light scratches on the skin. As you ground your hips into his mouth, the sensation got rougher but the pleasure just increased.

He used his ab muscles to thrust into your throat, looking for his release. You tightened your grip around the base of his cock and suctioned even harder with your mouth as he let go.

Your legs went fully numb as the tension began to build in your stomach. You reached your peak, hearing Pierre’s tongue lap at your juices.

You rolled off of his body, looking for your shorts. The guilt was already beginning to set in and you couldn’t escape it now. You were stuck.

Pierre wiped his mouth with his hand and you noticed his whole face was wet. He was still smiling.

“I just hope Anna and Max aren’t standing there waiting for us when these doors decide to open.”

“Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake?” You laughed, brushing your fingers through your now knotty hair.

Pierre pulled his shorts back on and looked at you. “Now be honest with me, who eats your pussy better? Me or him?”

“You can’t ask me that.”

“I can and I did.”

“Well, I’m not going to give you an answer.”

He laughed at you, not the reaction you were expecting. “Don’t worry, I already have the answer. I heard the sounds you make when he’s between your legs. It’s nothing compared to the sounds you just made for me.” He winked at you, knowing exactly where you stand with him.

next part

[planetsano]

pimp my ride, please?

REQUEST ☆ "can I request a reki x f!reader where she asks him to decorate her skateboard? Reki introduced her to the world of skate so she wants him to be the one to do her very first skateboard!! And Reki is like "really? me? 🥺🥺🥺"

WARNINGS ☆ none! just fluff sweeter than candy.

PAIRING ☆ reki kyan x female reader.

A/N ☆ this was extremely self indulgent, thank u nonnie!

"You okay, kitty cat? You're a little quiet tonight." Reki says. His was attention on his personal board laying on the crafting table in front of him while he tweaked a few things that would improve the board's functionality. His hands so veiny, slender, and pretty under the lamplight as he worked. You sat beside him in your own little world, chewing gently at your thumb trying to muster up the courage to just ask him one simple question, but you didn't know how to do it.

It wasn't any secret that Reki was talented. Not only is he an amazing skater but an artist. You've seen him craft so many boards by hand with unique and intricate designs. Not only did they look aesthetically pleasing, but they were practical and held up to a standard that takes years for a person to master. His creativity not only benefits the artistic side of things but it's simply innovative. The best example of this being Langa's skateboard.

Not only that, but Reki is an excellent teacher. He always so patient with you through all your mess-ups and countless falls to the ground. He did all this while never losing his enthusiasm and warmth towards teaching you the best he can, not only as a teacher but as a best friend and a boyfriend. Every time you fell, he was always there to pick you up with a big smile, a kiss on the forehead, and a couple of smiley face bandaids if you needed them.

The thing is, he was using his board to teach you. Not that he minded, he was actually more than happy to share his board with you. It was intimate in its way. Only skaters would know how it feels to have a bond with someone so strong that you're willing to let them ride and learn on your board. It has a similar vibe to when ravers share and trade their Kandi. Reki has teased you about it before, but the only reason why you haven't purchased your board yet is that you wanted him to be the hands and mind behind your very first skateboard.

"(Name)~" He called your name in a singsong manner and pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Welcome back, space ranger." He chuckled and looked at you over his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine!" You smiled. Fine? Reki was no mind reader but he knew something was up.

"I know when you're lying~" He turns to you in his stool and pinches your nose gently. He thinks your reaction is cute, seeing you scrunch your nose up like a baby bunny.

"What's up?" He tilts his head and offers you a smile.

You start to feel shy under his gaze and your cheeks begin to feel particularly warm the longer he looks at you. You take a sudden interest in your fingers twiddling them mindlessly as you tried to find the right words. Why were you nervous? He was your boyfriend after all! The worst thing he could say was no, fuck but even then you'd absolutely die of embarrassment. You need to get it together, come on.

“Um..." You trail off causing him to let out a happy giggle. He wasn't sure why you were acting so shy all of a sudden but he thought it was endearing.

“So shy, for what?” He lifts your chin with a gentle hand getting you to look at him, then he winks.

“Stop teasing me, I have something important to tell you..” You whined and shooed away his hand with a pout on your face.

“Okay, then tell me what's on your mind." He straightens his posture and reaches over to hold your hands in your lap.

“Well, you've been taught me a lot with skating, and I only know what I do because of you," You started. He's listening closely and giving you all his undivided attention. “The reason I haven't brought my board is that, well, it would be more special to me if you made it.." You trail off once more looking down at where your hands are connected.

Reki's eyes widen at your words. You want him to make you a skateboard? He needs confirmation, so he lifts your head once more.

"Wait, really? You mean that?" His voice is soft to matching the way his expression melts from shock to the rawest form of love. He's really just looking at you with the softest case of puppy dog eyes.

"Reki, you're so talented. It would mean the world to me if you did." You were being sincere and he could tell.

Reki is so touched, his heart is literally swelling and pounding in his chest. There's an intense wave of euphoria, love, and warmth that wash over his body. He's really over the moon right now.

"But only if you w-!" He cuts you off.

"Of course I want to!" He smiles at you brightly taking both of his hands to ruffle your hair wildly. You're about to say something about him messing up your hair but he gives your lips a sloppy peck before shoots up from his stool in excitement.

"We can start tonight! You're gonna be so proud of me, babe! It should be on pimp my ride!" You look up at your enthusiastic boyfriend with a smile.

"I'm so happy you're excited but let's start tomorrow, yeah?" You say and tug at his hoodie. He deflates and blows a raspberry.

"No fun." He sits back down in your hands cup the sides of his cheeks. You're giggling but you're about to scold him.

"Hey, mister! You need a break! You've been working for hours and I need to leave before it gets too late. It's already 11." You said glancing over at the digital clock he had sitting on a toolbox.

"Aw, what! You're not sleeping over?" He gives you a goofily exasperated look. Silently saying, 'you want to start your board tomorrow and you're not cuddling with me tonight?' He was beyond cute.

"Reki, baby, I've slept over the past two nights. I gotta go back to my own bed." You giggle and he playfully folds his arms.

"We shared boards, we can share beds too." He pouts cutely and looks away.

"You're a dork." You smile ans lean in to kiss his lips.

"Ah, seriously (Name)! Sleep over! Please~"

© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.

[harry-writings]

Arrogant Son of a Bitch

- The one where Harry and Y/n are separated, but Harry gets jealous when he sees Y/n getting ready for a date with another man 

Masterlist 

-

It was the last thing Harry wanted to see, really — Y/n in a tight red dress, hooking gold earrings into her ears while she rubs her lips together,  spreading the crimson lipstick upon the surface, legs ending at her black stilettos.

But that’s exactly what Harry sees when he walks into her apartment to pick up their six-month old son, and he’s never had so much of an urge to gouge his eyes out from their sockets and leave them lifeless upon the ground.

There’s someone else. Y/n’s dolling herself up, wearing her Sunday best, letting her hair down in loose curls even though she hates curling her fucking hair, for somebody else — for somebody that’s not him, for somebody that’s not her husband.

“Hey, Harry! Thank you so much for coming early. I don’t want to be late!”

She still has yet to look at him — still scrambling around her living room, gathering everything she needs — and Harry doesn’t even know if he wants her to. One glance from her when she looks like this... and he’ll be a goner, he knows it, and he can’t afford to get all jealous and possessive in front of the very woman he broke things off with not just one year ago.

It was his idea to file for divorce, at the end of it all. Y/n had tried everything she could to mend the marriage that was in constant shambles, but Harry was always too stubborn and too prideful to admit to all the things he’d done wrong. And he did everything wrong.

He didn’t treat Y/n with the kind of love he had once given her — with the kind of love she always deserved. He treated Y/n like an obligation rather than a choice, a burden rather than a need, yet she always kept her promises and lived by her vows because it wasn’t just a casual relationship that could be thrown away and forgotten about, it was marriage.

She signed them up for marriage counseling, but Harry failed to show up to half the meetings. And when he did, he’d just sit there with a scowl on his face saying that talking about their feelings wouldn’t help any because there were no feelings. She tried working around his schedule to go on getaway vacations together to respire their connection, but he always spent the portion of time he could have spent with her working on more of his music.

And when she got pregnant with his baby, Y/n was desperate and silently hoped that the little bundle of joy growing inside of her would help fix all that had been broken between them. But it was no avail. If anything, it only made them grow further apart. Perhaps it was because he felt more bound to her when he didn’t want to be with her at all.

He told her he wanted the divorce half-way through the six month mark of her pregnancy. She was big, she was struggling, and she was absolutely exhausted, yet Harry couldn’t find it in his heart to push it aside any longer. He needed to let her go.

But as Harry stands here, watching Y/n looking as gorgeous as ever for another man that isn’t even hers, makes him want to take back everything he had ever done.

And it’s not that he didn’t before — he’s wanted to take it back from the second he walked into their home with divorce papers in his hands, his pregnant wife sobbing on the kitchen counter, asking why it had to be this way — it just feels like a fresh wound on his already scarred and fragile heart, and he genuinely feels as if a part of him has died.

“You’re going on a date.” Harry says knowingly, his frown deepening in the corners of his lips. And he knows he has no right to feel the way he does — so upset and hurt, like his heart had been ripped in two — but he can’t help himself from falling apart.

At the end of the day, she’s still his wife. Sure, the divorce papers had been filed, but there was still so much that had to be done for their last final steps. But of course, just like everything else that involved Y/n, Harry didn’t make the time for it.

Y/n shrugs, her thumbs twiddling together with her head down, eyes casted at the ground beneath his feet.

It’s been a year since Harry brought the divorce papers home, and Y/n’s barely looked at him since. Sometimes he’s thankful she doesn’t, but sometimes, in times like these, he wishes she would… even if it’ll hurt.

“Yeah, I guess. Just some guy I met the other night at the grocery store. Couldn’t reach one of the cereals for Topher and saw me struggling. Guess he thought I was pretty or something and told me he wanted to take me out.”

“I didn’t ask.”

She knows she should have stopped herself from talking sooner, but being around Harry makes her head spin and her body disassociate from herself. She doesn’t ever know what to do, or what to say, whenever he’s around.

There’s a part of her that tries so desperately to act as if everything is normal — like nothing had ever happened — mainly for Topher’s sake. But the other part of her knows that that’s such an impossible thing to do no matter how hard she tries.

Y/n purses her lips, dropping her hands at her sides in defeat. “Right.”

And it’s not that Harry wants to talk to her this way — like he doesn’t care about her, like he can barely stand the sight of her anymore; it’s the farthest from the truth, really, he’s just utter shit at saying how he feels or what he’s thinking. He’ll lie, and lie, and lie — chew on the truth and spit it out if it means he doesn’t have to apologize.

And right now, that’s all he wants to do. He wants to break down and drown in his tears, hold her to him and tell her how sorry he is for everything he’s put her through. But he has this unexplainable, unsettling wall built around him that he can’t knock down no matter how hard he swings at it.

He curses his career for it, really. He wishes he could be one of the celebrities that says fame hasn’t gotten to his head, but it has. In the most selfish, most arrogant of ways, fame has made him so prideful that he never puts himself to blame for anything that happens in his life.

His mother was the first one to tell him, and still never fails to remind him now that the divorce has been put in place.

You never fight for anything in your life. She’d always say. You think you’re too good for your mistakes. Put your wife through hell, making your kid go through hell, all because you swallow the two words that could fix everything you’ve ever broken. 

But he wants to fight for Y/n. Oh, how badly does he want to, but at this point, it’s just too late. All the damage had already been done, and no woman could ever forgive a man that left her during the nine months she needed the man she loves the most.

“Didn’t mean it like that, just —“ he croaks brokenly, gulping down the cries he doesn’t deserve to weep. “Does he know you’re married?”

The question makes her feel guilty — really guilty, the kind of guilty that makes her stomach swim with bile because nothing she does is ever going to feel right, for either of them. And she knows going on a date when the divorce hasn’t been set in stone is just making everything so much harder.

But what is she to do? Wait around for Harry to finally take the time out of his music to go to the courtroom so she could finally move on? She can’t keep being legally bound to a man that no longer loves her, she can’t keep doing this dance by herself because she’ll never have the heart to find somebody else.

And she just needs somebody else.

Because she’s still so deeply in love with Harry, it hurts. Everyday feels like the world is grabbing her at her feet, sucking her into its core until she’s floating in the midst of everybody’s life except her own. She’s living day by day stuck between the confines of marriage and separation and the worst part is, she feels not only separated from Harry, but also from herself.

It was so good. Everything about them was just so good… and Y/n doesn’t know what she had done wrong to make Harry fall out of love with her.  But somewhere between their picture-perfect relationship hid an unbearable amount of blame being put onto Y/n for things that weren’t her fault, or her responsibility, or her obligations.

The stupidest, littlest of things would set Harry off — leading to heart-wrenching periods of silence, an uncomfortable amount of tension, and constant reminders that her love wasn’t enough to make him happy.

And she just can’t keep living with that anymore. She can’t stand the fact that she has to keep thinking of him because he’s still here, all the time, swimming in the same gray area she’s been drowning in.

“That’s not fair.” Y/n frowns, her eyes briefly looking up to get a glimpse of his face, which is red and as broken as ever, and she curses her wandering eyes.

“I don’t go out with other women because you’re still my wife.” Harry nearly sobs the last word, still finding it hard to speak after everything they had been through. Because really, is she his wife, or just the ghost of her? “I still love you just as much. I’d be cheating on you if I even thought of it.”

And it’s true. Harry hasn’t looked at or even thought of another woman since the moment his heart found hers. She’s the first one he sees — in a room full of people, in his daydreams, in his music — she’s the only one he sees, in everything. He couldn’t even imagine it.

Y/n flutters her eyes closed to keep her composure, wishing now more than ever to be sucked up into the earth’s core again because she doesn’t want to be here anymore — in a room so close to him, feeling his every breath, hearing his every word echo in her head.

“Harry… I’m not your wife anymore. We’re separated. You’ve made it more than clear to me that you don’t love or want me anymore. I can’t keep living my life on your time.”

Y/n’s looking up at him as if begging him to understand, but he doesn’t. He may have fucked up one too many times down the line, but at the end of the day, he’s never once told Y/n he didn’t love her anymore. And he couldn’t even dream of telling Y/n he didn’t want her anymore, he’d throw up if he so much as tried.

There isn’t a universe Harry wouldn’t want Y/n in. She’s all he’s ever wanted.

“When have I ever said that?”

He asks it like her words sucked all that was left out of him and she almost wants to take it back, but she won’t.

“You didn’t have to.”

His eyes drop to the floor and a new wave of tears begin to rise at the surface, pushing at his throat.

He has nothing to say for himself.

Y/n sighs, her eyes wandering around the room as she waits for Harry to break this deafening silence, but he doesn’t. So, she lifts her purse higher upon her shoulder before coughing awkwardly to the open air.

“Topher is in the car seat all ready to go. His binkie should be in there, too. I would love to stay and chat but I really need to get —”

“Please, don’t go.” Harry interrupts, his voice cracking as he closes his eyes, loose tears falling down his cheeks and hitting the hardwood floor below them, hand inching closer to hers. “Stay here with me.”

She’s frozen still, the feeling of her hand being this close to his knocking the breath straight out of her lungs and nearly sending her to her knees. Because how badly does she want to — how badly does Y/n want to break the laws of reality just to be with her Harry again, even for a second, but she can’t keep letting herself believe they will ever come back from this. She can’t keep going back to Harry.

She has to stop choosing Harry.

“I can’t, Harry.” She breathes out, not having the heart or the strength to look up into the very eyes that never fail to make her fall in love. “I can’t stay with you any longer. I have to go.”

And before Harry could reach for her any farther, she was already gone.

-

Y/n was practically dead to the world — all her apartment lights shut off, all doors and windows locked, phone turned off and buried somewhere beneath all the covers she’s been hibernating in — before she heard someone practically beating down her front door.

She rolls over to her nightstand, groaning as her eyes blink to adjust to the blue light reading 1:04AM vibrantly in the dark. She sits herself up on her elbow, huffing out a breath as her hands reach up to rub the dryness out of her eyes.

She looks around her room as her brain scrambles to process reality, but it isn’t until another series of knocks jolt her up from where she sits, nearly losing balance in the process.

“Why? Why can’t I have nice things?” Y/n whispers to herself as she makes her way out of her bedroom to her front door, way too far out of her mind to bother checking her peephole before unlocking the knob and swinging it open.

“Mitch!” Y/n shrieks, her arms held out stiffly in front of her as Harry’s body is thrown into them — not so sure if holding him up is the appropriate thing to do considering they haven’t even touched each other once since the separation. “What the fuck!”

“You don’t answer your fucking phone!” Mitch fumes, his eyes bewildered and unsteady as his body is so visibly angry he doesn’t even know what to do with himself — pinching his lips between his fingers, practically walking in circles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pit of fire burning in his chest. “Needed to get him the fuck away from me!”

Mitch knows it’s not Y/n’s fault that she wasn’t answering his calls — it is well over midnight, after all — but he has been so pushed over the edge that he doesn’t have time to think about anything else other than being as far away from Harry as humanly possible.

Y/n’s struck with confusion because in all the four years she had been with Harry, he never had any problems with Mitch. Sure, they’d bump heads about which notes sound better in certain songs, or bicker a bit after long hours at the studio, but never anything like this.

“Been pissing me off all night about your stupid date! Proper fucking idiot, he is. Files a divorce with you, for what? To get jealous at every man that makes eyes at you? Arrogant son of a bitch, had half the mind to knock him in before I decided to bring him here.”

“Shut up, Mitch!” Harry growls groggily against the skin of Y/n’s shoulder.

Mitch turns his body to face Harry’s back, one hand on his hip while the other rubs along the roots of his beard, his face scrunching with what Y/n can only consider to be a look of complete malice.

He knows he shouldn’t be throwing Harry under the bus about their private conversations, especially ones that consist of Y/n, but there’s only so much he could put up with.

It’s sickening, really — having to constantly be there for Harry when everything that’s gotten him to this point has been his own fault. Harry doesn’t deserve comforting, but Mitch has been alongside him for far too long to not care about his feelings and emotions… no matter how wrong they are.

And what’s even more sickening is seeing how badly he’s hurting his own self by avoiding the divorce entirely instead of taking responsibility for his actions. Mitch could go on and on about all the ways to make things right again, yet still in some way, somehow, it always seems to go right past Harry’s head.

Because trying to sway Harry’s mind or his decisions is practically like pulling teeth — he’ll always find a way to go against what everybody else says and it drives Mitch up the wall. He’s sick and tired of wasting his breath all because Harry’s too stubborn to take anybody else’s path but his own.

“You couldn’t just bring him home? Where the hell is Topher?”

Y/n is struggling to keep Harry up because she’s not even sure if she’s doing it right. He’s got his entire body pressed up against hers, all of his weight being held by her still half-asleep arms and he shouldn’t even be here.

“No, I couldn’t bring him home because the first three times I tried, he wouldn’t get out of my damn car.” Mitch growls through clenched teeth, the side of his fist taking one last swing at Y/n’s open door.

He takes a couple deep breaths, his elbow leaning against the doorframe and he squeezes his eyes shut to regain his composure. “Topher’s with Sarah for the night. Now, for the love of fuck, make Harry grow a pair of balls so he can finally talk to you and not me, please.”

His eyes are pleading with Y/n’s silently, and she nods her head at him in response. She can’t leave Harry like this if she wanted to, anyways.

She sighs, holding Harry against her chest now to get a proper grip on him, and she can feel him press a small kiss against the crook of her neck.

“Have a good night, Mitch. Take care of yourself.”

She smiles softly at him, and for a moment in time, she feels like everything might be okay.

Maybe she only feels this way because this is the first time she’s touched Harry in a year now and it gives her the sense of clarity she’s been missing for so long. Or, maybe she feels this way because Mitch was always the one who was rooting for them despite everything they’ve been through, and knowing he still cares enough about the both of them to bring Harry to her apartment to talk gives her the smallest bit of hope she’s been needing.

“You too, Y/n.”

Mitch gives her one last reassuring look before he shuts the door, leaving Y/n and Harry alone in the confines of her apartment with absolutely nowhere else to go.

She guides him to her couch, which was a bit more difficult than she expected considering Harry is nearly twice her height and much stronger than he realizes. It takes almost all the energy out of her to get him to take a few steps of his own until he’s finally sitting upon the cushions.

“Your date.” Harry mumbles against her shoulder while she lays him down upon the couch, his glossy eyes looking up at her with genuine hurt and concern when his head lays upon the pillow. “Did he treat you nice?”

Y/n smiles softly to herself, reaching for the blanket sprawled atop of the couch — the very blanket Harry gifted her for the first Christmas they spent together. It’s been her favorite ever since.

“I didn’t go.”

“You didn’t go?”

Harry can’t deny that he feels happy about it — happy that she didn’t spend the night with somebody else, happy that she couldn’t find it in her heart to move on from him quite yet. But another part of him — a bigger part of him — suddenly feels guilty, and empty, and like his insides have all been set on fire until they all melted to nothing.

She’s been alone all night. She’s been alone every night. And sure, she had Topher to keep her company throughout the week… but she’s lonely and she’s sad. He can see it in everything she does. And tonight was her one night to be herself again, and somehow, Harry managed to find a way to take it all away from her, just like he’s done with everything else.

She was going to go if he hadn’t guilt-tripped her and begged her not to leave. And she looked so pretty, so fucking breathtaking, for nobody to see it. And that alone is enough to make the last bit of his heart completely shatter until his chest becomes a voided pit.

Y/n nods her head, emotionless, as she pulls the blanket up to his chin. “You were right, we’re still married. It wasn’t fair of me.”

She knows it would have been fair either way, but after seeing how upset Harry looked upon the realization that she was going out with somebody else, she couldn’t stomach the thought of spending the rest of the night trying to make another man happy — one, she’s sure, wouldn’t have even made her happy.

She still didn’t choose Harry, but she didn’t choose anybody else, either, and to know that puts her head at rest. At least for a little while.

“With that being said,” Y/n coughs a bit, blinking away the tears that were mere seconds from falling, “You really need to pick a court date, Harry.”

He knows he does. He’s been draining himself out trying to think of the best time to get it all done — it has taken him twelve months, after all. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he doesn’t want to be done — not with their marriage, not with her.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever want for it to all be done. And so whenever he plans to meet with his lawyer, he can only get as far as parking his car in the lot because he never has the strength to actually walk inside.

Because he knows once he does, there’s no going back, and he can’t imagine himself not going back to her.

So, he’ll cry. He’ll scream, he’ll punch at his steering wheel, he’ll hit his head against the headrest over, and over, and over again until he’s so worn out he can hardly breathe. Because he can’t do it. He doesn’t want to do it.

There have been five appointments he couldn’t bring himself to go to, and she has no idea.

“I can’t.” Harry whispers with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands — refusing to look at her because he doesn’t know what will happen if he does. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?”

Y/n’s breath hitches in her throat because of all the things she expected him to say, that surely wasn’t one of them.

Deep down, she knows he’s hurting, but she never expected it to be so hard on him. Besides, he made it seem so easy — to leave her, like she meant nothing to him after the four years they had been together. And she couldn’t count the amount of times Harry had reminded her that he didn’t have feelings for her anymore.

So that’s what she always believed — that he didn’t love her, that he didn’t want her, that he didn’t need her. But hearing Harry cry out those very words, do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?, makes her question everything she had ever known.

Because he did leave her — has left her on her own for a year now and has never given her a reason to believe he wanted it any other way until this very moment; Harry laying drunk on her living room couch, crying over the thought of her with another man. He has barely looked at her, has barely even touched her, until now — until it’s been far too late.

“You’ve already left me.” Y/n whispers, the tears she once blinked back now falling freely and silently down her cheeks.

There’s a crack in her voice that Harry can feel down his spine, shaking him to his core and leaving him frozen still. He’s never heard her sound so hurt and broken before and he feels his chest hallowing from the inside out; he is the only one to blame.

If he could just tell her everything he hasn’t — if he could just prove to her that not a single fiber in his body has let her go — no matter the consequences, he would in a heartbeat.

But Harry really hasn’t fought for anything in his life, he wouldn’t even know where to begin — he wouldn’t even know what to say, or what to do, to pick up all these pieces. And the worst part is that he wants to, so badly, but he worries that it won’t be enough — that he won’t be enough — and he won’t be able to handle it. His entire world would collapse.

He blindly reaches for her hand because she’s the only one that can ground him and he feels like he’s falling into a never-ending abyss with no safety-net. Truthfully, he’s been feeling that way for an entire year, until now, with her hand in his.

“Not even a little bit.” He breathes out from quivering lips, eyes unblinking, staring helplessly at their intertwined fingers.

Y/n sobs behind her pursed lips, squeezing her eyes closed as she stomps her foot down upon the floor because this can’t be happening. He can’t be doing this, not now — not when she’s this far into grieving his loss, not when she was finally taking her first step away from him. He can’t.

“Harry —”

“Before you say anything please, please just listen to me.”

Both of his hands are now cradling hers in his palms, slightly tugging at her arm because he is wholeheartedly desperate to say everything she needs to hear.

If he doesn’t get it all out now, he may never have her again. And if he has to spend the rest of his goddamn life being so lonely that he begins to loathe the world for moving on when his own stopped turning, he’d rather do it knowing he at least tried.

And if there’s one person he’d try anything for — do anything for — it would be his wife.

“When I filed the divorce it — it wasn’t because of you, okay? I didn’t — fuck — I thought it was my only choice. And it wasn’t because I didn’t love you the same, or because I wanted to be with somebody else, it was because I wasn’t what you deserved.”

Y/n’s staring down at him with furrowed eyebrows and open lips, everything around her moving so quickly she can hardly keep up.

These are answers she’s been begging for for nearly two years now, yet somehow, nothing could have prepared herself for them. She’s gotten so used to wondering — so used to questioning how the universe will take control of their destiny that now, having all the answers seems to defy all forms of faith.

It’ll all be in her hands now. What they’ll be in a year from now, where they’ll be a year from now, or who they’ll be with a year from now is all up to her. Because at the end of it all, Harry wouldn’t be pulling her closer, sobbing into her hand, breaking down all his walls and boundaries if he didn’t want her to break off the divorce.

“I would be away from you for months on end, so goddamn far away that god forbid something were to happen to you, I couldn’t be the first one by your side. I couldn’t be the first one to make you smile each morning, or be the first one to keep you together whenever the world was breaking you down.

“I wasn’t your first, for anything. I couldn’t be. And it was tearing me apart, knowing you were all alone every day and every night. But then I’d come home and it would feel — it would feel so good, like time hadn’t passed between us… but it did, so, so fast, and in a blink of an eye, I’d have to leave you again.”

His mind thinks back to all the times he’s had Y/n crying on his shoulder the nights before he had to leave the country, clinging onto him and begging him to stay with her just a little while longer.

They were so in love with each other that they hardly wanted to spend any time away from one another because they had a connection that was so raw and so real, they couldn’t find it in anything or anybody else. So each time he had to wake up at the crack of dawn to travel the world, Y/n pouting on the bed watching him pack his life together, would break him in two every single time.

The world meant nothing without her.

“The hole that kept swallowing me up every time I had to walk out on you became too much. But I couldn’t tell you that. I couldn’t tell you that because — because I wanted to hold it together so badly for you. I needed to keep it together because I knew if I couldn’t, you wouldn’t be able to, either. It was already so hard on you and I knew that and I kept leaving. And if I had told you that I spent every single night away from you crying my fucking eyes out, you’d sacrifice everything else you had to come be with me… and I couldn’t do that to you.

“And the more I kept bottling it up, the more I took it out on you. I didn’t want to — didn’t even mean to — but I did, in ways that I couldn’t justify to you because I couldn’t even justify them to myself. Then there was a part of me — the worst and most selfish part of me — that couldn’t apologize for it because the world had somehow convinced me that I didn’t need to.”

By now, Y/n’s knees are pressed against the front of the couch as Harry hooks one of his arms around her legs, his forehead making a home at the front of her hip.

“I’d just get more upset with myself, more angry, more ashamed. It was this constant cycle — feeling like I wasn’t enough for you, then blaming you for all my mistakes, pushing you away even farther. Then you got pregnant.”

They both let out a sob.

“And all I could think about was… if I couldn’t be there for my wife, how could I be there for my son? How could I show him the world and give him everything he ever wished for if I couldn’t even do that for you — for the one person I would choose over anything?”

His chin rests where his forehead once did, his red and puffy eyes trying their best to stay open enough to take a good look at her.

“I loved you beyond words. I looked at you and I saw my entire life in front of me. You continuously blew me away, every single day. Being away from you was — it was dangerous. You weren’t beside me and I was just this empty pit wallowing in hotel rooms that I didn’t even want to be in. I couldn’t get enough of you no matter how much I tried. You consumed me whole, and yet I still found a way to convince you that you were the one who wasn’t enough for me.”

He lets out a laugh through his cries, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s capable of destroying such beautiful things — things that were eternal, things that were once unbreakable.

And here he is, praying that he can also be the man that fixes them.

“Then I thought… if she found someone else that could give her everything she deserved, maybe he could be a better father to our son, too. And I was so scared and so angry and so sad I just — I did what I thought would make you happier instead of being a fucking man and owning up to it. But I didn’t, and now look at what’s in my hands. You’re all alone because of me. You’re crying because of me. Topher has to go back and forth between his parents because of me. I’m skipping meetings with my lawyer because I decided to file for a fucking divorce I didn’t even want. I broke our family apart, I broke us apart, I tore you from the inside out and didn’t even tell you that I was sorry.”

His eyes are closed, mouth open as it chokes out sounds of sorrow and pain, sounds of collapsing lungs and a torn chest.

“And I am so fucking sorry, baby.”

He speaks between sobs, his words broken and cracked but Y/n hears them loud and clear. He’s got her hand cradled against his soaking cheek, her palm pressed against the corner of his mouth that Harry keeps kissing.

He can’t fucking breathe and he really thinks this is it — that these are his last moments on earth and the next time he blinks, he’ll never open his eyes again.

Would he even want to, if Y/n isn’t the first thing he sees?

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t the husband you needed me to be. I’m sorry that I let you down. I’m sorry I let our son down. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been waiting on me and held yourself back because of me. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t loved.”

He keeps kissing at her hand, rubbing at the back of her legs, holding onto her like he’d collapse if he dared let her go. He knows he’s going to have to eventually, but he can’t think about that right now.

He needs this — to feel her, to smell her, to soak her all in before their new forever begins, spent apart and living lives so far away from one another that they couldn’t cross paths even if they wanted to.

This is his goodbye. He knows it. She’s not going to forgive him no matter how much he begs for her to understand — how could she? He can’t blame her. He hasn’t even forgiven himself and doesn’t expect anything more from her now, other than to listen to him one last time.

“I love you so much and there will never be a universe where I don’t, or won’t. I think about you… everyday, every second. To this day, I wake up reaching for you at least three times a night, wondering why you aren’t with me. Every time I come to pick Topher up I spend an hour in front of my bathroom mirror telling myself that I have to hold myself back from you. And then when I see you, I have to keep myself together and hold myself in place because you just get more and more beautiful with every day that passes and — and it breaks my heart all over again.”

Y/n reaches her hand down to his hair, gently brushing her fingers back against his scalp because he needs her — she knows he needs her and she can’t choose to be selfish now.

Right now, he doesn’t need her to be anything but his wife, and this may be the last time she’ll ever be his.

They keep each other embraced for a while, silently, unmoving and bracing themselves for the fall they’re each going to have to take.

These are their dying moments — their final moments before the casket gets shut and thrown six feet below them — and it won’t be long before the dirt from the ground gets piled up again, over their bodies, leaving them to decay in the life they once believed belonged to them.

They know it’s to come, because this is the first time that they have been so close to each other, yet feel so lonely all at once. And it’s not supposed to be this way.

“I can’t pick a date, Y/n,” Harry breaks the silence with a whisper, almost losing his voice along the way because what he’s about to say is enough to kill him, “but if you give me one I’ll — I’ll do it, okay?”

He holds her hand even tighter than before.

“If that’s what will make you happy, I’ll do it.”

[thatshiscigar]

Now We’re Even

JJ Maybank x Reader

Requested by @maybebanks : Can you do one where y/n spends the night at John B’s and she wakes up on top of him, jj is also there but he slept on the couch. JJ has a crush on y/n but doesn’t want to admit it so he sleeps with a bunch of tourons. One of the tourons is rude to y/n that morning and JJ defends her. Later Y/n asks why JJ sleeps w so many girls and they get into an agrumeny and he asks why she sleeps with John b . She didn’t have sex with him just woke up lying on top of him.

Warnings: mention of vomit, swearing, mention of underaged drinking

Word Count: 2.3k

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[GIF CREDIT TO OWNER]

“Alright big boy, lets get you ready for bed,” you said as you flung open the door to the Chateau, John B hanging off your body. The poor boy could barely stand, let alone get himself ready for bed, so you decided to do it for him. You and John B have been friends since the fifth grade, and he trusted you with everything he had, and it’s not like you hadn’t taken care of him before when he’s blown past his limit. When you saw him doubled over by a log, vomiting up his stomach, you took the liberty of cutting his night short.

You plopped John B down on the toilet seat lid, emitting a groan from him. He passed his stage of giddy, happy drunk, and was now in the everything in the world is dark and horrible and my head feels like it’s about to explode stage, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he vomited again. You picked up the trash can off the floor and put it in his lap, just in case. He rested his chin on the rim, the weight on his head being lifted off his neck. You grabbed his toothbrush, ran water over it, squeezed some toothpaste on it, and ran water over it again.

“Open,” you commanded as you bent down to his level. John B complied, allowing you to brush his teeth. He closed his eyes, the light in the bathroom getting to be too much for his state.

“Yo! Y/N?” JJ arrived home from the party, his voice booming through the house, which made John B groan through the toothpaste foaming in his mouth.

“In here,” you said, your voice much softer than JJ’s. But it wasn’t soft enough, as John B slapped your upper arm, groaning again. You heard JJ’s boots against the wood floor, making their way to the bathroom.

“Now why does he get special treatment,” JJ whined as he took in the scene in front of him. He leaned up against the door frame, relieving his legs of his weight.

“Hmm, because he’s better looking than you,” you joked, causing a chuckle to come from both boys.

“Whatever, I’ll see y’all in the morning.” JJ yawned, his arms stretching over his head. You heard him flop onto the pullout, and his snores came soon after.

“Spit,” you instructed once you were done brushing John B’s teeth. He did, and you filled up a dixie cup for him to rinse his mouth out with. Once he was done, you picked the trash can from his lap and placed it back on the floor.

“Alright, c’mon bubba,” you soothed. John B slowly stood up, his legs almost immediately giving out on him. Your grip on his waist tightened, as did his on your shoulders. You guys slowly made your way to his room, careful not to wake the sleeping boy on the pullout. Once you made it to John B’s room, he practically flung himself out of your grasp and onto his bed. You closed his door after him, applying opposing pressure in order to ensure it wouldn’t make any noise. John B was having no trouble snuggling into bed, his eyes already closed, his breathing even. You smiled a little bit at your handy work.

“Alright, good night, bub,” you whispered as your headed for the door.

“Nooo,” you heard from the lump of blankets and pillows.

“Stay,” John B pouted as he made grabby hands towards you. You raised your brows in question before ultimately deciding to hop into bed next to him.

“Good night, Y/N,” John B whispered, cuddling into your side.

“Whatever. Get some sleep,” you said, slightly annoyed with his drunken antics. John B was out like a light once he really got settled in. The alcohol in his body was winding down to nothing, and he just wanted the night to end. You finally found your peace when you heard John B’s light snores, lulling you to sleep for the night.

-

“Hey! Wake up! We’re meeting Pope and Kie at The Wreck!” JJ trumpeted through the shack, and when he didn’t get the usual early morning grunt or groan in response, he became nervous.

“Y/N? John B?” he tried one more time. He went to check the spare room, where he thought he would find you, and when he didn’t, he practically busted the door down to John B’s room.

“JJ, what the hell?” you questioned as you woke, John B waking beside you, groaning at the bothersome wakeup call.

JJ was frozen in the doorframe, his eyes and mouth wide open at the sight. He didn’t want to process the scene in front of him, but he knew what he saw. He saw you, a pretty girl, in John B’s bed, which could only mean one thing.

“Um,” he stammered, trying to get his brain the formulate his longer-than-gone thoughts.

“Breakfast at The Wreck, get ready.” He hastily turned on his heel and slammed the door shut, leaving you and John B confused at your friend’s abnormal behavior. JJ stormed out of the house and made his way to the hammock.

He expected this day come, the day the girl he loved would chose his best friend over him, but he never expected it would hurt this much. He’d always been used to John B getting almost everything compared to JJ. John B got the good rep, the loving father, and now, the girl, while JJ got shit handed to him. He was sick of it all, but there wasn’t much he could really do about it, except block it all out with drugs, alcohol, and sex. They numbed his feelings, and it was easier to feel nothing than to feel everything, at least according to JJ’s book. He knew what he was doing wasn’t healthy, but honestly, he didn’t give a shit. And now that he had for sure lost you, he saw no point in stopping.

“Hey,” you yelled as you walked out the door. Your voice pulled JJ out of his head.

“Let’s go.” He got up from the hammock and followed you and John B to the van, the slight of you two together again hurting him more.

JJ was sat quietly in the back, while you and John B shared glances, silently asking each other what was up with your usually talkative friend. You figured it was the usual stuff, one of his many odd jobs had skimped out on a paycheck, or he had run out of weed, so you decided not to press. He’ll get over it soon, you thought. Nothing to worry about.

-

“Hey guys!” Kie welcomed from the table you guys had claimed as yours. Pope was with her, sitting by her side. You sat down next to her, John B across from you and JJ next to him.

After many friendly banters and enough food eaten to keep your bellies full for a lifetime, JJ’s face was still long. You thought good friends and good food would lift JJ’s spirits, but he still felt down. You weren’t the only one to notice though, as Pope reached around Kie to lightly flick your arm, and nodded his head in JJ’s direction. You shrugged your shoulders, telling him that you didn’t know what was up with the out-of-sorts boy.

“So, JJ,” Pope started.

“I saw you talking to that touron last night. That go anywhere?” JJ chuckled at his question, the drunken memories coming back to him. The girl threw her drink in his face and stormed off when he said something raunchy.

“Uh, yeah actually,” he said with a smirk.

“Took me back to her condo, heated toilet seats and all.” Your friends groaned at the added detail, throwing their napkins at him. You on the other hand, were twiddling your thumbs in your lap, your chest heavy with heartache. JJ looked to you to see if his plan had worked, and he saw the results he was hoping for, but he wasn’t satisfied with himself. His stomach dropped when he realized he’d hurt you, but he decided to brush it off. You’d just hurt him earlier this morning, so now you were even.

You shouldn’t have been this hurt by JJ’s words. You knew he hooked up with girls all the time, and each time he brought it up it delivered a little pang to your heart. It hurt knowing that JJ chose every other girl on the island over you, so you decided to shelter your feelings from him. You decided you were never going to tell JJ about how you felt, because it was obvious he didn’t feel the same way, because if he did, he wouldn’t be wasting his time with tourists he’ll never see again.

JJ’s attention was diverted from you to the group of tourons that walked through the door. He recognized them, they were at the party last night. He remembered you talking to one of them last night. From what he could tell, you were getting pretty comfortable. He could see them looking at you, talking and laughing to themselves. JJ’s fuse was already pretty short on the day-to-day, and when he was in a bad mood, it was practically non-existent. Everyone’s eyes followed JJ as he shot up from the table and stomped up to the group of boys.

“Hey man,” one of the boys said nervously, judging JJ by his demeanor.

“What’s so funny,” JJ spat out. They didn’t respond.

“Huh!” He yelled, aching for an explanation. His fists were hard by his sides.

“Maybe you should teach your little girl how to handle her liquor, big guy,” one of them stepped forward, inviting JJ’s anger.

“Unless you want her going home with one of us. She was pretty close to it last night.” JJ lunged forward, not wanting to hear another word from his bitch mouth. He shoved the tourist to the ground, getting ready to beat the shit out of him in the middle of the restaurant. The altercation didn’t last very long, as John B and Pope pulled JJ off and the other tourists pulled off their friend. The tourists hurried out of the restaurant.

“What the hell was that!” You yelled, your previous feelings of remorse being overpowered by anger and concern. JJ looked to the rest of the group, deciding he didn’t want to do this in front of the rest of them. He grabbed your arm and lead you outside. It was still early in the morning, so nobody was around.

“I’m not your fucking responsibility, Y/N, so why do you even care!?” JJ yelled, matching your tone. You stayed silent for a moment, all your emotions catching up to you at once. Anger, hurt, frustration, longing, love, all of it taking over.

“Why do you sleep with them?” You asked, your voice subdued, afraid that if you talked any louder that your voice would crack and reveal all that you felt.

“What?” He snapped, still resentful. You looked up at him, letting him see the tears pricking at your eyes. You weren’t afraid to show him anymore.

“Why do you waste your time on stuck up little tourists, when I’m right here! When I love you!” You were taken aback by your own words, and so was JJ.

“No you don’t,” he said, letting out a small angry laugh. He looked down and wiped his eyes. There was no going back now.

“What are you talking about? Yes I do, JJ.” You reached up to put your hand on his shoulder, but he moved away from you. He looked back up to you, tears moving steady down his face, with no signs of stopping.

“Then why did you sleep with him, huh? My best friend, Y/N!” He was back to yelling. Anger seemed to be the only way he knew how to feel in emotional situations. He was pacing now.

JJ’s words confused you. You didn’t sleep with his best friend, you didn’t sleep with anyone.

“What are you talking about?” Your voice was much softer than his.

“Oh don’t play fucking stupid, Y/N! You were in his bed this morning,” he pointed his finger at you, and you had to fight everything in your head telling you to smack it away.

It finally clicked, your eyes widening at the realization.

“JJ,” you said as softly as you could, trying to calm him down.

“No,” he cut you off.

“Don’t try to apologize, Y/N. I know what I saw.” His voice was quieter now, his body tired of the fighting.

“I didn’t sleep with him, JJ,” you said sharply. He looked at you quizzically. You softened when you took in his tender expression.

“He was drunk, and you know how he gets when he’s drunk. He gets all dependent and needy. I was just taking care of him.” You reached out for his hands, and he didn’t move away from you this time. He couldn’t meet your gaze.

“Promise?” He whispered.

“Yes, JJ, I promise. Nothing else happened.”

“No,” he looked up to you, his face wet with tears.

“Promise that you love me?” His eyes were pleading, begging that what you said was true.

“Yes,” you nodded frantically.

“I love you, JJ.”

Everything he had ever hopped for was now his, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He took your face in his hands, wiping away your tears, before he smashed his lips onto yours. The kiss was full of everything you and JJ had been missing out on. Passion, excitement, love. You didn’t want to let go.

“I love you, too” JJ whispered as he broke away for air, a smile spreading across his face. You rested your foreheads together, holding each other close.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I was being a dick,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” you gave him a small smile before pressing your lips together again.

You made a promise to JJ. You promised to love him and care for him, and he did you. You both had been yearning for each other for so long, and now you finally had each other, fears, doubts, and everything else stopping you out of the way.

Taglist: @supremestarkey @lovelymaybankk @blueeyedbesson @whormotional @classywaves @sexytholland @danaerekat @em753 @babyhoneystvles @angelic-boca @milked-down-coffee @dolanfivsosxox @sunwardsss @leekah

[hqbbg]

remember.

pairing: akaashi x reader

summary: akaashi’s lost his memories and you remember the events leading up to it.

genre: angst

word count: 2.4K

warnings: slight mention of blood, incident of car accident

author’s note: hi y’all! this is my contribution to the Haikyuu Headquarters server collab ✨ the prompt for this one is amnesia and I chose to write for Akaashi, but check out the other writers’ works here! I hope y’all enjoy!

part two.

The smell of the hospital is all too familiar to your senses now. There’s a low buzz of white noise around you as people come and go, walking around and minding their own business. What are they here for? Who are they here for?

You wait patiently for the elevator doors to slide open, your fingers wrung in front of you. You twiddle your thumbs three times before the light comes on above the silver doors accompanied by a ‘ding!’ and you step inside. Your finger immediately presses the button for the fourth floor, and you hold the door open for two more people as they enter the metal box. You ask which floor they need and press the corresponding buttons, watching as the doors close shut, and your steady ascent begins.

It’s quiet, save for the beeping of the elevator every time it reaches a new floor. When you arrive on the fourth floor, you wait a moment before the doors slide open before stepping out. You turn right and see the white sign above the familiar double doors that read ‘Intensive Care Unit’ and press the button for them to open automatically.

A few nurses give you small smiles upon seeing you and you do your best to reciprocate the gesture, though it never quite reaches your eyes. Nowadays, it never does.

Your hands are shaking as you reach for the door handle. The metal feels cold against your fingers and you inhale an unsteady breath before turning the bar. As the door opens, a gust of cold air hits you and the sound of multiple machines beeping fills your ears. You walk in and close the door behind you, setting your bag down on the countertop next to the entrance. Sighing to yourself, you pull the same chair you’ve been using for the past several days up to the edge of the bed and seat yourself in it. You sit in silence for a moment, unable to tear your eyes away from the main source of your joy—although, he was the current source of your heartache—Akaashi Keiji.

Had it not been for the various tubes connected to him and the reason behind this situation, he almost looked peaceful. You lift a hand and brush some hair away from his closed eyes, allowing your fingers to linger a little longer as you float them along the frame of his face. You bite your lip and hold back the tears beginning to line your eyes as your hand retracts back towards yourself.

You hum along to the song playing on the radio and keep your eyes fixed on the moving buildings and cars around you. You feel Akaashi’s thumb rubbing soothing circles around your own, squeezing your intertwined fingers every so often. As the current song comes to an end, you reach over with your empty hand and grab his phone from its spot in the console and unlock it to queue up the next couple of songs. As you do so, his phone buzzes and an unfamiliar name appears accompanied by a message.

What are you doing right now? :)

You frown slightly but choose to disregard it and continue to queue up three more songs. You look over at him and see that he continues to keep his eyes fixed on the road, completely unaware of what’s going on. You put the phone back down and debate on whether or not you should address it or not.

“Hey, you got a message,” you finally say after a few moments.

Akaashi’s eyes flicker over to you for a brief moment.

“I’ll just read it later.”

You hum in acknowledgement and decide to ignore the bubbling curiosity settling within your stomach.

Your eyes flit over to the heart monitor beeping behind the bed and you trace the cadence of each steady beat. You lower your gaze back down and sigh again. You lift your hand and grasp Akaashi’s, giving it a soft squeeze.

The breeze feels good against your skin and you inhale the fresh air with a smile on your face. The two of you finally arrived at your favorite lookout point and the city below still bustles with activity. You turn around and feel the corner of your lips falter when you see Akaashi on his phone, his thumbs tapping quickly along the screen. You turn back around and remind yourself that it’s nothing, probably just someone from work or something.

“Hey, I have to make a call really quick,” he says. You turn your head and nod.

“Okay, I’ll set everything up.”

He smiles apologetically as he takes a few steps away from the car. You choose not to dwell on it and make your way to the car to set up the little picnic the two of you had planned together.

Just as you finish setting everything up, Akaashi makes his way over and presses a kiss against your forehead.

“Sorry, I’m here now. Thanks for setting up.”

You tell him it’s no problem, simply happy with the fact that he’s here now as the two of you sit down. You hear his phone buzz and try to ignore him as he pulls the device out, typing again.

Tears continue to line your eyes as your fingers trace over his knuckles, feeling how prominent they’ve become under his skin. You lift his hand to your lips and press a small kiss against it, gently setting it back down at his side.

He’s so still. Had you not known any better, he reminded you of a living photograph.

For a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw his finger move ever so slightly but figure you’d just imagined it. You miss hearing his voice, feeling his arms around you, just him in general.

“I’m so full,” you sigh in content as you begin to clean up around yourself.

The sun has already begun setting and it’s starting to get dark. As the two of you continue to collect your things, you hear his phone buzz again with yet another text notification. At this point, you’ve lost count of how many times he’d stopped to respond. You want to ask, but you can’t help but feel as if you’re just being paranoid for no reason. However, he’s been on his phone more than he’s even looked you in the eyes tonight.

When you’re both done, you head back to the car and get inside, sitting patiently for him to start up the engine. He sits in the driver’s seat, eyes still fixed on his phone with the slightest trace of a smile on his lips. You can’t help but feel a little irked and albeit a bit jealous, so you finally decide to ask, deciding that you’ve waited enough.

“Who is it?”

“Hm?” Akaashi finally looks up from his phone and blinks innocently at you.

“You’ve been on your phone all night long,” you can’t resist the small pout on your lips.

“Sorry, love,” he says as he puts his phone down. “One of my coworkers just had a question about an upcoming project.”

“Do they know that tonight was supposed to be our date night?” You ask, trying your best to maintain an indifferent demeanor, though the question comes out more aggressively than you’d intended.

Akaashi doesn’t seem to mind, offering another apologetic smile. You do your best to stand your ground, though his smile alone makes you feel like you’re crumbling.

“It was just time sensitive,” he says. “I’ll be sure we aren’t interrupted for our next date night, okay?”

He reaches for your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He starts the engine and you feel at ease, mentally scolding yourself for getting worked up over nothing.

You grasp onto Akaashi’s hand again, missing its warmth. Right now, all you want is for him to squeeze back reassuringly, remind you that everything’s going to be okay.

The doctors had explained to you that he would be able to recover quickly so long as he followed the proper procedures once he was conscious. Even in this state, he was already improving greatly. He just needs to wake up. You need him to wake up.

The drive home is dark. You watch the road ahead of you as Akaashi rests his right hand on your thigh. You continue to reprimand yourself internally for overthinking things, even having the audacity to suspect your otherwise perfect boyfriend.

He treats you so well, taking care of you, and putting up with the different mood swings you’d have from time to time.

“You’re being quiet,” Akaashi breaks the silence first.

“Hm?” You look over at him.

“You seem to be deep in thought,” he says, giving your thigh a slight squeeze before removing his hand altogether. You shake your head—whether it’s to shake yourself back into focus or to rid yourself of other thoughts, you’re not sure.

“I’m just thinking about you,” you reply. It’s not a lie.

Akaashi’s ears and cheeks tint a soft pink at your forwardness.

“Care to elaborate?”

You shake your head again, though this time it’s more playful.

“My thoughts will stay within my head,” you say, grinning to yourself.

As the two of you continue to converse, you both fail to notice a car nearing the intersection at full speed.

You could’ve sworn you just felt Akaashi’s fingers move in your hands. The first time might’ve been a hallucination, but this time, you definitely felt it. You let go of his hand and quickly make your way towards the door, reaching for the handle and pulling the door open. You quickly get the attention of the closest nurse nearby and explain what had happened. He nods and follows you back to the room.

You stop dead in your tracks, feeling your heart flutter with emotion as gunmetal blue eyes stare back at you. Just as you’re about to run over and throw your arms around him, Akaashi opens his mouth to speak.

“Who are you?”

His voice is hoarse, not having been used in days, but you heard him loud and clear.

“I’m one of the nurses here—”

Akaashi shakes his head, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“Who are you?”

In three simple words, it feels like your world is falling apart faster than you can pick up the pieces. He doesn’t have the same soft smile you’re used to, the same warmth and love in his eyes. Instead, he’s guarded, and confusion is written all over his face.

“I need to go get a doctor. I’ll be right back,” the nurse says, quickly rushing out of the room. You’re left alone once again.

“Do you not know who I am?” You frown, approaching him slowly.

“Should I?” Akaashi shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows. This can’t be happening.

“We’ve been dating for over a year,” you respond, feeling tears prickling your eyes once again. “Come on, Keiji, it’s me.”

Your voice comes out weaker than you’d anticipated and the look of indifference you’re receiving in return hurts.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are,” he says politely. You open your mouth to say something else, but the door swings open and a doctor accompanied by a couple nurses walks in.

You’re unsure of what happened. One moment, you’re having a good time with your boyfriend, but the next, you feel your body jerking in multiple directions as the car spins out of control. The sound of glass shattering accompanied by a soft sting of pieces cutting across your skin is sharp in the night.

There isn’t much noise—though, you’re unsure if it’s because the ringing in your ears is too loud to notice—and your eyes feel out of focus. You look over and see Akaashi slumped over, a thick and dark red liquid seeping from the side of his head and beginning to stain his shirt.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you call out for Akaashi, but he doesn’t respond. You continue to scream and cry for him to wake up, preparing for the worst until your throat feels raw. You ignore the pain and stiffness in your neck, gripping onto his bleeding arm and shake him. You’re unsure of how much time passes, but soon you hear sirens and suddenly, your world is black.

“He’s showing signs of amnesia,” the doctor sighs heavily as she looks through the chart on her clipboard. “He’s retained his basic motor skills, but he doesn’t seem to remember much of anything in the past couple of years. This is probably a result from a really intense concussion. When we scanned him for brain damage, we didn’t see anything intense, so it could be possible that this is short-term memory loss.”

“How can he get his memories back?” You bite your lip nervously, trying to hold back the tears so that you can hear out the doctor’s orders appropriately.

“Unfortunately, there’s no promise that he’ll get his memories back at all,” the doctor sighs. “You can try to jog his memory, but there’s a potential risk in doing so; you’d be writing new memories in and forcing him to believe that as reality. It’s quite easy to take advantage of.”

You nod, though you’re still trying to wrap your head around everything.

“The best thing you can do is give him time,” she says. “I understand this is hard for you, but I will also suggest consider making new memories with him.”

You nod again, this time more understandingly.

“When can he be discharged?”

“I’d like to keep an eye on him for a few more days, but after that, he’s home free. Also, I don’t know if this will help you feel better, but some patients can end up getting their memories with a single trigger and everything is fine.”

“Thank you,” you say to the doctor, sighing softly to yourself.

“We have to run some more tests on the patient, but please keep an open mind,” she says. “He’ll be back home before you know it.”

You ride the train back to your shared apartment, feeling numb all over. You’re happy he’s finally awake, but he doesn’t remember you. He doesn’t remember the memories you’ve made together and the idea that he never will twists your stomach into a knot, bringing tears to your eyes.

You want him to remember and you’ll do whatever it takes for him to do so.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 23

--------

2000

We were ten years old, Derek and I. Playing a game of hide and seek with his sister Laura. It felt like it was more a game of “let the kids run around and not bother me”. We were deep in the woods outside of their home, laughing and squealing delight as we ran and ran. That is until lightning flashed through the sky and thunder boomed immediately after. Spooked, we ran further from the thunder and lightning, finding a small improvised shelter that we had made a few years before when we would play cops and robbers. Derek’s uncle Peter had helped us build it, occasionally playing the sheriff when he deemed us “less annoying than usual”. 

Once inside the little hut, we sat and decided to wait out the storm or at least until someone came to get us. It was mostly dry with only or two leaks in the roof. We waited a while in silence, only the rain and wind howling filled the air. It was almost peaceful. I had been sitting there, literally twiddling my thumbs when I noticed the anxious movements Derek was making. He was tapping his foot against the soft earth and he was repeatedly cracking his knuckles. 

“What is it?” I asked. He seemed to snap out of his trance and looked at him, then looking away with a slight blush on his cheeks. 

“I was just thinking about what my mom said last year... About us being arranged in a marriage.” 

“What about it?” I turned my body so that I could face him. 

Derek rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I dunno... I guess that I wouldn’t want to be forced into a marriage with you. It doesn’t seem fair.” 

“You’re right.” I glanced out towards the woods, smiling fondly, “I want to fall in love. I want someone like Dimitri in Anastasia.” I sighed dreamily. 

“Wasn’t he a con-artist?” Derek raised an eyebrow. I shoved him playfully. 

“No...Well, yes. But he doesn’t take the money the Duchess offered him as a reward because he wants Anastasia to be happy.” 

“He’s a cartoon.” 

“And you’re a dork.” I shook my head, “What about you? Who would you wanna marry someday?” 

Derek thought for a moment, “I guess... I would want someone like Anastasia. She’s super badass and defeats the villain all by herself. She also went through a lot and did a lot even when she didn’t remember who she was, she fought for her future.” 

As sweet as that was...

“She’s a cartoon.” I mocked his voice. He grinned and shoved me, starting a wrestling match that ended with Talia and Peter finding us. They brought us home and made us hot chocolate. 

-

After landing, Michael and I had taken a ferry to the Shetland islands to Sumburgh, the village on the island where the Lunar Circle was settled. We actually were brought to a castle, which was already insane enough. The next insane thing was a statue just inside the massive doors into the main room of the castle. It was a humanoid with the head of a wolf, wearing a kilt and armor. The creature also carried a sword. 

“What is that?” I whispered to Michael. 

“The Wulver. A werewolf that had come to peace with his wolf and human sides. He was friendly to locals and they seemed fine with him. That’s when hunters came and tried to kill him. He was the reason for founding the Lunar Circle - coexistence. 

“Can I do that?” I whispered under my breath. 

“Unfortunately, no.” Our attention was brought to a man with a thick Scottish accent walking into the room, “Our world has lost touch with the old magic. But maybe someday we can bring it back.” He was average height, with salt and pepper hair that was on the longer side and a bit shaggy. His eyes were a kind blue color. He held out his hand to me. 

“Praetor Lachlan McLeod.” The stranger introduced himself, “It’s so good to finally meet you, (Y/N).” So this was the man who wrote the letter, it was nice to have a face to a name. I shook his hand and smiled politely. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Praetor.” From my googling, Praetor was a Roman term for an official, which was an interesting concept since Rome had completely invaded all of England, Ireland, and Scotland and almost wiped out their culture. But whatever. 

“Please, call me Lachlan.” 

I nodded, “Okay, Lachlan.” He held both of my hands in his smiling sympathetically. 

“I want to extend my condolences, again, for your loss. Your mother and father did so much for the Lunar Circle.” 

Slowly, I slipped my hands from his, “Thank you... I just have a lot of questions about them.” 

“All in due time, my dear. You’ve had a long flight and I’m sure that you’re exhausted.” 

Michael sighed, “Oh, we sure are-”

 “I’m not tired. I want answers.” I said sternly. Michael looked incredibly nervous which made me wonder how high up this Lachlan guy was, “I appreciate your concern, sir, but I am coming from a place where I am just now remembering my parents were a part of a secret werewolf society that gave them the tools to take all of my memories away and said society wouldn’t allow me to be accompanied by my partner. It took a lot for him to let me come by myself, especially since he had never trusted the Lunar Circle in the first place.” 

“Ah, yes, Derek Hale.” He said, almost amused, “I remember his mother’s rejection letter. It was somehow very personal. I think she referred to me as ‘a spineless coward who would rather fraternize with the enemy than fight them.” 

I clicked my tongue, “Sounds like Talia.” Michael nudged my side, signally for me to chill. 

“And another thing-”

“Oh no.” Michael hid his face in his hands.

“This guy.” I pointed to Michael, “He killed my parents, isn’t there some kind of punishment for that?”

Michael ripped his hands from his face, “Hey, that wasn’t my fault.”

“Mr. Keaton’s unfortunate affliction caused by Peter Hale has been reviewed.” Lachlan put his arms behind his back, “I assure you. It was all the Hale’s doing.”

I jerked forward, Michael had to grab my arms to hold me back, “Derek is not his uncle.” My eyes flashing red. 

Lachlan raised his eyebrows and smiled, leaning down and flashing his alpha red eyes at me in return, “I’m sure he’s not.” The red left his eyes and he stood up straight, “Take her to the infirmary and then straight to bed.” He said to Michael, his eyes never leaving mine. I kept my eyes on him, even as he started to walk away, this kilt swaying with each step.

“The infirmary? Why?” Michael asked. 

“I believe Miss (Y/L/N) is carrying something.” He grinned, “Something that may calm her temper.” 

-

After a blood test in the infirmary, we were escorted to two rooms in the castle. Of course, this left me alone with my thoughts that I really didn’t want to think about. Knowing that Derek and everyone else was back home fighting against the alpha pack while I was in this ancient castle where I haven’t gotten the answers I wanted. Why was I even here? To take up my parents’ mantle? Whatever it was, I didn’t want it. I just wanted to go back home and help. I looked out the window of the castle, seeing the moon high in the sky. 

I mean, what could they tell that I didn’t already know? My parents took my memories to keep me safe and look where it got them? Burned to ashes. And what else? I was only stalked by a psychopath and had to watch my friend struggle to not hurt anyone. I mean, hell, I was still struggling with the change. Uncle Noah was still processing what I was. Yes, he’s supportive but to what end? And Stiles? I wasn’t there to protect him when he was kidnapped and beaten by the Argents and now I was millions of miles away and if he was in trouble there was nothing that I could do. And if anything happened to Derek and I wasn’t there to save him? What was the point of even being alive? I would be without them, helpless and guilty, all because of some stupid secret society. 

My chest got tighter and tighter as my emotions ran high. My thoughts and feelings were moving so quickly that it felt like I didn’t have control of my own mind. My hands clenched tight, I could feel all of my features shift. Coarse hair growing down the sides of my face, the bridge of my nose tightening. I screamed loudly, the high pitch lowering into a loud roar. 

“This is your fault!” She shouted, standing up, “Take me home!” She lunged forward. Michael lunged forward, using the shield to knock her back across the room and into the window. Surprisingly, it didn’t break. She fell to the ground, looking up quickly. 

MICHAEL

From the loud roar that just came from the next to his, Michael had a feeling that the Sheriff had been right. She was a time bomb and she just exploded. Michael quickly grabbed a shield from one of the suits of armor that for some reason always decorated castles and made his way into (Y/N)’s room. (Y/N) was on the bed, tearing at pillows. There were feathers and fluff flying all over the room. She was in full shift, her eyes fiery red, her canines sharp. Her eyes took him in, snarling loudly. She jumped off the bed, landing in front of him on all fours. Michael jumped back, shield held tight in his hand. 

“Come on, (Y/N)!” He tried to put on a brave face, “You just need to calm down and get some rest.” 

“SCREW YOU!” She shouted, lunging again. This time, Michael moved on the way, letting her slam into the door, which also didn’t break. 

“That’s a good door.” He said to himself. Michael looked from the door and back to the angry werewolf. She was seething with rage and one step closer to killing him. 

“Think about this.  You don’t want to kill me!” 

“Yes, I do! I hate you!”

“Hate is such a strong word...” He said nervously. (Y/N) lunged again and was met by a door to the face. Lachlan had opened the door and they both looked down at (Y/N) on the floor. She was on her behind, rubbing her forehead. Lachlan sighed, reaching down to help (Y/N) up. 

“I seem to have underestimated your anger. Please, walk with me.” 

(Y/N)

Lachlan led me out of the castle and down to the grounds. In the back of the stone walls, there was a large garden. The Praetor hadn’t said anything since we had been out here, but I think that’s what he wanted. The moon and the atmosphere around us was calming, must be the magic here. 

“I apologize for dismissing your concerns earlier.” Lachlan said finally, leading us to the cliff side where we could see the waves crashing against the rocks, “You have been through a lot lately. More than any new werewolf is expected to handle as well as you have.” When I looked at him, I could tell he was being genuine. 

“I just...” I sighed, leaning against a nearby oak, “I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t want to leave my partner behind. And... I didn’t want to meet the people who told my parents to take my life from me.” 

Lachlan looked up at the moon, the wind flowing through his hair, “Your concerns are near and dear to my heart. My own parents used the Wolf Eclipse spell on me after I mated with a she-wolf from a rival clan. The look in her eyes when I told her I didn’t know who she was... I see it every time I close my eyes. And then I lost her.” His voice shook a bit, “I never forgave them after that.” He looked back at me, “When your parents told us that they had done the spell after the Hale fire, we told them it was a bad idea. You needed to be stronger than ever, maybe even leave Beacon Hills, but they became too attached to the community, to the sheriff and his son.” They stayed for them... I have no idea what my life would have been like without Stiles in it. It was so different. That was a life I didn’t want to think about because it was a life without my best friend and his insane antics. It was a life without Uncle Noah who loved me no matter what. It would be a life without Derek, or at least a life where I wouldn’t be there to meet him again. 

“I remember now that my father thought we were safe.” I wrapped my arms around myself, “Chris Argent is loyal to his word and the code his family is supposed to follow. Unfortunately, he is the only one who follows that code. Even his own daughter was corrupted by his father and his sister and she was dating a werewolf.” 

“Unfortunately, not every hunter can be Chris Argent. From our understanding, he is the only one fighting with his head while the others see us as inhuman.” He chuckled, “You might even say that we are more human than they are.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek. 

“Lachlan?” 

“Hmm?” 

“What am I doing here? Why bring me all this way?” 

Lachlan looked back up at the moon and smiled, “Well, it was originally to restore your memories. Thankfully, that resolved itself. Now, since you are the only member left of your clan - an alpha was two sparks - we were hoping that you could spend some time with us to relearn the basics. And I also want you to relax, experience your culture, your legacy.” 

“That sounds great and all. But I don’t have time to do that. I need to get back to Derek.” 

“(Y/N), you know that it is too dangerous for the both of you to be there. I don’t want you to experience what it’s like to lose a mate. It’s... It’s soul crushing. Losing who you love most - that is the worst pain anyone can feel.” Lachlan turned to go back to the castle, “Think about it. You aren’t a prisoner here. You may leave whenever you like. But I think you could do great things with just a little help.” With that, his footsteps faded into the darkness; leaving me with only my thoughts, the moonlight, and the ocean below. I had to make a decision, one that would ultimately decide my future as an alpha. I just wish someone I knew was here to help me make this decision. If only Uncle Noah were here. He was so level headed and wanted the best for me, but the werewolf drama was probably too much for him already. And Derek would want me to hone in on my skills, even if that meant going into battles alone and possibly losing them. 

I just wish it wasn’t this hard. 

-

After pressing Derek’s contact, I pressed the phone to my ear and listened to it ring. I had no idea what time it was back home, I just needed to at least pretend I was talking to him. 

“Hey Der.” I smiled, “I know it’s late or early. Honestly, I’m not sure. But I wanted to call you and tell you how today went. The flight was long, the food was okay. Uh they made me get a blood test for whatever reason. Oh, and there’s this thing called the Wulver and he was a werewolf that came to peace with his human and animal side. Lachlan’s really nice and doesn’t want to take me from you so the coast is clear on that one. And uh I remembered something today. When we were kids, we got lost in the woods in a storm and we talked about crushes. Funny how you had a crush on a girl who lost her memories.” I laughed, “Anyway... I miss you. And I love you. And I’ll be back as soon-”

I was cut off by a beep and a message telling me that the allotted time of this  message was over. Sighing, I set my phone down and flopped back on the extravagant bed that seemed to form to my body in just the right way. All the fluff and feathers had been cleaned by the time I came back so I should probably thank whoever the cleaning staff were. All I can do is sleep and hope that tomorrow will give me better answers. 

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

Read part 24 here!

I watched Inside today so I am no feeling good. 

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Leading Lady (Spencer Reid x Reader)

chapter five- multitude of realizations

wc: 3.2k

summary: you realize your true feelings for Spencer

a/n: hope yall like! this is one of my fav chapters haha

chapter index: chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4

-

As you walked back into your dressing room, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. Sure, there was a murderer after you, but this crush you had on Spencer was honestly just as exhilarating. You had come to terms with the fact that you had a crush on him when you were watching Gilmore Girls earlier on Netflix and he was making commentary on the characters and the books Rory was reading. When he spoke, you were more interested in what he had to say than in the actual show. Although the two of you had only known each other for a couple days, spending all of your time with him had bonded the two of you in a way you hadn’t experienced in months. Once inside the dressing room, you made small talk with your fellow cast members. 

“So, Y/N, when are you and Matt gonna hook up? I’m getting bored, I need a showmance,” said Caroline, the actress who played Fantine.

“Ah, I’m sorry but the Y/N ship has sailed! I’m actually seeing someone now,” you said with a smile, the words feeling genuine.

“Oh my gosh. Spill!” yelled Caroline.

“Well, his name's Spencer,” you shyly told her and the gathering crowd of your female castmates. “He’s staying with me for a little bit while he’s in town, he’s actually here tonight!” you told them as they squealed. 

“We have to be introduced!” Caroline shouted, and you laughed.

“Okay, okay! I’ll point him out to you during mic check but that's all until after rehearsal,” you said with a grin before sitting down at your mirror and beginning the makeup and hair process. 

-

After finishing getting ready, you headed out to the stage for mic check. You waited for a couple minutes with the girls, pointing out Spencer for them to gawk at and whisper to each other while he was mindlessly focused on a thick book. As if he felt the prying eyes of your cast, he looked up and shot you a smile and an awkward wave before focusing back on his book. A few minutes later, Matt walked on stage, slightly out of breath and not in his costume. You could overhear him talking to your director, apologizing for his lateness. Once he noticed you he greeted you with a tight smile and walked over to you, the girls whispering on the other side of the stage, still pointing at Spencer.

“So, a boyfriend, huh? Didn’t think our Y/N could pull it off,” Matt said in a teasing way.

“Wow, news gets around here pretty fast,” you replied, looking up again to Spencer at the back of the auditorium to see he was already looking at you. He seemed a little off… you didn't want to assume he was jealous but you were talking to your cute costar so maybe he was just getting a little too deep into his role of boyfriend. Your exchange with Matt was brief, your director wanted to get the show started as soon as possible. Once John called for places, you snuck back around through the lobby to sit with Spencer. You sat down next to him and he greeted you with a smile.

“Hey Spence, sorry that took a little longer than expected, our Marius was a little late,” you explained. You noticed he didn’t reply- he was just looking at you with a goofy smile. “What?” you asked.

“O-oh I’m sorry, it's nothing,” he said, a blush creeping on his face. “It’s just, not many people call me Spence,” he confessed.

“Oh! I’m sorry, did you not want me to call you that? It’s okay I can jus-” he cut you off.

“No! No, it's really fine. I… like it,” he said, looking down and twiddling his thumbs. As the pit orchestra began to play the opening number you settled into your seat with a smile on your face. The two of you watched the first couple songs, Spence occasionally whispering facts about the history of France in your ear and each time he did you smiled and nodded, occasionally asking questions but mostly just basking in the moment. You noticed that you had to go on soon so you excused yourself and ran into the lobby to head back to your dressing room.

Once you got inside you rushed to make sure you were ready to go on. As you frantically checked your makeup and looked for props, Caroline, who’s character had already died, started to talk to you.

“Girl, that boy is in love with you already,” she said, focused on the bag of chips in her lap. This made you stop everything you were doing.

“Im sorry. What?” you asked, not sure if you were hearing her right.

“I said what I said! Let me tell you, while I was trying to die on stage, I kept getting distracted by the two of you being all cute back there! The way he looks at you… i’ll just say, if someone looked at me like that, I wouldn’t let them go,” she said nonchalantly. Obviously she didn’t know that Spencer sharing your feelings was news to you. You couldn’t deny the chemistry, but you thought you were just imagining his lingering glances and soft smiles. It excited you as much as discouraged you, though. Falling for one of the FBI agents in charge of your case just wasn't right! And if he were to reciprocate those feelings, he could get in trouble at work and that was the last thing you wanted. You didn’t have much time to dwell on this, however, because you were about to go on stage.

-

As you acted and sang your heart out, you kept taking glances to see Spencer’s smiling face in the back of the auditorium. As your biggest song, On My Own was coming up, your nerves picked up a little bit- it was your moment alone on the stage and you couldn’t help it. As the opening notes began to play, you took a deep breath and sang.

And now I'm all alone again

Nowhere to go, no one to turn to

Without a home, without a friend

Without a face to say hello to

And now the night is near

and now I can make-believe he's here

You always resonated with these lyrics. You often felt very alone and it was difficult for you to open up to others. That was, until Spencer came along.

On my own, pretending he's beside me

All alone, I walk with him 'til morning

Without him, I feel his arms around me

And when I lose my way I close my eyes and he has found me

When you and Logan, your ex that you used to live with, broke up, you felt really hopeless. You tried not to let a man decide your happiness, but the two of you were long term and he had helped you through your father's passing. When he moved out, every waking moment was spent missing him.

And I know, it's only in my mind

That I'm talking to myself, and not to him

And although, I know that he is blind

Still I say there's a way for us

There was no way that someone like Spencer liked you. You didn’t feel worthy of it. You didn’t think you deserved to be loved, much less even liked, but even you couldn’t deny that there was chemistry

I love him, but when the night is over

He is gone, the river's just a river

Without him, the world around me changes

The trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers

That feeling of comfort that you had grown accustomed to around Logan returned when Spencer started to sleep on your couch. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, but this wasn’t that. It was an opportunity for a deep connection, something that you wanted to build on. Not some cringey story about mommy and daddy meeting eyes across the room and falling right then and there. Sure, Spencer was pretty much just your type looks-wise, but when you talked to him you just appreciated him as a person.

I love him, but every day I'm learning

All my life, I've only been pretending

Without me, his world will go on turning

The world is full of happiness that I have never known

 You were over Logan. You didn’t realize until now that you had been sulking the past few months because of him, but there was a new light in your life. As you began to sing the last few lines, you made direct eye contact with Spencer, tears brimming in your eyes. These tears were real, caused by a multitude of realizations. 

I love him

I love him

I love him

But only on my own

Shit. You really liked him.

-

After what felt like years, you had changed back into your clothes and took off your makeup, anxious to see Spencer and to hear his opinion on the show. You were trying to slyly sneak out of the dressing room before Caroline grabbed your shoulder and whipped you around. You sighed, knowing what was about to happen.

“You’re not getting off this easy! You said I could meet your new beau and I'm not leaving until I do!” she said with a smirk. You sighed, anxious at this being the first time you and Spencer really have to put on an act as “lovers”.

“Fine fine, just come on,” you sighed, leading her to the lobby where Spencer was waiting with his book in his hand, facing the opposite direction and talking to someone. Talking to… Matt. Oh jeez. You picked up your pace so you could greet Spencer, tapping him on the shoulder. He whipped around and when he saw you, his face broke into a joyful smile.

“Hey! You were amazing!” he exclaimed as he pulled you into a hug, genuinely excited. This surprised you but it didn’t take long to melt into it. Matt cleared his throat next to you and you let Spence go with a blush.

“Sorry. Spencer, this is Caroline. She plays Fantine,” you introduced the two. Spencer waved hello, not making a move to shake her hand. You wondered why, but you ignored it. 

“You were really great too!” he told her.

“Thank you! So, this is the famous Spencer, huh? Y/N was telling us all of the hot goss about you two,” she said with a smirk.

“Hot goss?” Spencer said with an inquisitive look, you elbowed Caroline in the ribs.

“Uh, anyways we should get going,” you said, trying to usher Spencer out the door.

“Hey hey hey, not so fast!” said Matt, you cursed at him under your breath. “Our Y/N finally gets a boyfriend and we don’t even get to see them kiss?” he asks, a bit of a harsh edge to his voice. You didn’t think he was mad or jealous at first but this behavior was a little weird.

“Now why do we need to do that?” you asked with a harsh tone, Spencer tensing up beside you. You felt bad that he was in this position.

“I mean.... I kinda wanna see it too…” said Caroline, you elbowed her again. Spencer leaned down next to your ear.

“Y/N, it's okay. Kissing is actually safer than giving someone a handshake, the amount of pathogens that pass is staggering,” he whispered. This spouting of facts only made you want to kiss him more, but you really didn’t want to make him feel weird.  

You sighed and turned to face Spencer, placing a hand on his cheek as he leaned down. You felt really guilty, you couldn’t believe that your first kiss with Spencer wasn’t even real or voluntary, but you didn’t want to seem suspicious. He closed the final inches between you two and you both shut your eyes, savoring the few moments your lips were together. He melted under your touch and it seemed like the world stopped spinning for a few seconds. You pulled away and looked him in the eyes, a soft smile on his lips as he straightened out. You had a goofy smile too before realizing your anger for the two dummies next to you.

“Happy?” you asked them harshly before grabbing his hand and leading him into the cool outdoors. No matter the temperature outside, your face was burning.

“I am soooo sorry, they're so annoying and i jus-,” you begin to profusely apologize before he cuts you off.

“Y/N, it's okay! R-really. I knew that pretending to be your boyfriend might lead to something like this,” he reassured you, slightly nervously. You sighed in relief and the two of you silently began your walk home, both trying to hide the smiles creeping on your faces.

-

You unlocked your door while laughing at a joke Spencer was telling about existentialists and lightbulbs. Honestly, it kinda went over your head but his pure joy after telling the punchline was enough to make you smile. 

“Thanks,” he said, looking down. You were confused.

“For what?” you said, still smiling at his joke.

“For laughing at my joke. The last time I told it, all I got was silence and looks of confusion,” he said, embarrassed. “B-but, if it makes you laugh, I know it's good,” he said, more quietly. Your heart could burst.

“Well, no problem. And, hey, if this whole FBI thing doesn’t work out, at least you know you have a career in comedy!” you joked, and he laughed, accidentally knocking your script off the table. The two of you bent down to get it at the same time, hands brushing. You apologized to each other and laughed it off, before Spencer just grabbed it. You both stood up as he placed it on the table. You stood in silence for a minute, both contemplating that moment, but it didn’t last for long once you heard the familiar sound of Spencer’s phone ringing. 

“What's going on Morgan?” he asked after picking up his phone. As he listened to Morgan talk, you could tell that he wasn’t saying ‘Great news Reid! We caught the crazy guy! Now go sweep Y/N off her feet!.’ In fact, as Spencer’s face fell, you could tell it was the exact opposite. He hung up the phone and began pacing around your small apartment.

“What is it, what's going on?” you asked, panic rising as you followed his pacing. 

“There's been another victim. I need to get down to the station, it's pretty late so I can try to get someone to stay here with you, let me just ca-” you cut him off.

“I don’t mind coming with you to the station, I might be able to help,” you offered, already grabbing your purse.

“Are you sure? We might be there for a while,” he warned. 

“As long as you guys have a coffee machine, i'll be golden,” you smiled, despite the situation. He nodded and grabbed his messenger bag filled with files and stormed out the door, you followed him down to the car. Wordlessly, he hopped into the driver's seat, you in the passengers and the two of you sped off to the station.

-

You entered the station and were greeted with the expected hustle and bustle. You were glad for some familiar faces, though. Morgan walked over to greet you two, looking surprised but glad to see that you had come along too.

“Hey guys. Good to see you, Y/N,” Morgan said, resting a hand on your shoulder. You felt Spence stiffen besides you, but you brushed it off. “Reid, Hotch needs you to look at some crime scene photos with him and Prentiss. Y/N, would it be okay if you talked with JJ and Garcia on video chat in the break room? She’s gonna do some background checks on anybody you came into contact with recently. We’ve looked at everything, we’re willing to do anything at this point,” he said, seemingly desperate. 

“Of course, anything to help,” you smiled, waving goodbye to Spencer before heading to the break room where JJ was talking with Garcia already on video chat.

“Well there's our favorite thespian!” said Garcia through the screen, you could hear her smile.

“Hey Pen,” you laughed and sat down across from JJ. 

“How was your rehearsal?” JJ asked. You couldn’t help but smile, thinking about your “exchange” with Spencer.

“It was… good. Really good,” you told them, honestly.

“Hmmm.., it seems like there's something you're not telling us,” hinted Penelope. It was incredible how these people could so easily read you already, and Pen wasn’t even a profiler. You had felt immediately connected to them, though, so you didn’t mind it.

“Ugh, okay. Don’t freak out, or at least let me explain before you freak out, but… Spence and I… kissed,” you confessed. JJ looked shocked, Garcia was already begging for details.

“Listen! It was because of the cover we have going, I told my castmates that he was my boyfriend and this one guy basically demanded that we kiss and I didn’t wanna seem suspicious, so…” you trailed off. JJ’s surprised face morphed into a big smile. 

“Um, okay! First of all, kinda icky that that guy forced you to kiss, but besides that… how was it?!” Garcia asked, with even more energy if possible.

“I don’t know! It was… just for the cover. But, it was nice,” you blushed and the girls squealed. You continued, “I don’t know, Spencer’s just really great and I've only known him a couple days. I felt bad that he had to kiss me,” you confessed, still feeling a little guilty.

“I’m sure he didn’t mind the kiss from a pretty girl, especially if it was you,” said JJ.

“What do you mean, especially if it was me?” you asked, and JJ looked like she didn’t mean to say that.

“Ugh, okay I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I have a feeling Spence is crushing on you,” JJ told you, your mouth was agape. 

“Y/N how could he not! You’re gorg, talented, and a damsel in distress! I mean you're a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a man, but guys go nuts for that savior stuff,” Garcia explained and you laughed.

“I guess that's good,” you said, your smile faltering slightly. “It’s not like we can really do anything about it, though. I mean, wouldn’t he get in trouble or something?” you asked.

“Maybe, but we’re always rooting for his happiness, and you might be it. We wouldn’t want to get in the way of that,” JJ said, sweetly. You had to take a minute to process this. Once you had, you decided to move on to the background checks, forgoing the gossip for now. 

-

The background checks had taken a couple hours, especially because of the occasional gossip break, but everyone you mentioned seemed to be clean. Exhausted, you found an empty desk and curled up onto the chair, resting your head in your arms on the desk. You were drifting off to sleep, almost unconscious when you felt the warmth of a sweater on your back and a kiss on your head.

-

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