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sage-nebula · 4 months

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"Friede's using himself as a decoy to keep us safe."

I rambled about this in the tags of a reblog, but hell, I'm going to go ahead and make a separate meta post about it as well, because it's something that I think could have a delicious narrative impact on a future Horizons arc if the writers choose to utilize it. (And even if they don't, it could make for some delicious fic.)

So, one thing I noticed on my catch up binge of Horizons is that Liko and Roy (and to a lesser extent Dot) see Friede not only as the leader of the Rising Volt Tacklers, but also as a hero -- as their hero. This especially jumped out at me in episode 25, when Friede had them take shelter in the tower of the ancient castle while he battled Amethio. Not only did they readily listen to him when he told them to stay put inside the tower while he alone went to the exposed top, but then we were treated to this:

This whole sequence is notable for several reasons:

Friede jumps off the tower to draw Amethio away from the higher floor of the tower where Liko and Roy are sheltering, so that Amethio has a lower chance of going after them.

As he passes by their window, Friede gives them a wink and a smile, to comfort and encourage them.

The animators made sure to show us not only how Friede looked from Liko and Roy's perspective (heroic), but also how awed they were by giving us a full shot of their own facial expressions.

Just in case it wasn't obvious enough, Roy and Liko spell it out themselves that Friede is using himself as bait for Amethio in order to protect them, not only telling the audience what he's doing in case the audience didn't pick up on it (which, young children do watch this show), but also showing how this knowledge affects them, because Roy's voice is shaking a little when he says his line, and Liko's is hushed.

This was a very scary night for these two kids. They were outnumbered, their enemies were much stronger than they were, they were being pursued and in hiding. But Friede put himself between them and the greatest, nearest threat, and did his best to comfort them as he did so. To give them a wink and a smile as if to say, "Don't worry, it'll be okay."

And this isn't the only time.

We would be here all day if I grabbed screenshots of every time Friede rushed in to either save the kids from danger (either directly himself or by sending Cap in his place), or check on their well being after the fact to make sure that they were unharmed. Often, he does both in the course of the same episode, sometimes multiple times. Hell, his establishing character moment in the very beginning of the series is a heroic rescue whereupon he enters the scene to protect Liko from Amethio on the rooftop of her school. Friede makes it a point to prioritize the kids' safety and well-being, and as a result, they've reached the natural conclusion: they view him as a hero. As their hero.

So then, the question must be asked: what happens if their hero is taken out of the picture?

The question needs to be asked for a few reasons, and not just because I have a love for angst. The first reason is because we've already been given a teaser of what would happen at the end of the Terapagos Shine arc. In episode 44, Friede was trapped in a tower of Spinel's design. Though neither Liko nor Roy knew that the tower was a trap by Spinel, they did know that Friede was trapped inside -- and both immediately panicked upon seeing that Friede was trapped in a tower beyond their reach in enemy territory.

Roy immediately tried opening the door and, when repeated attempts to yank it open wouldn't work, banged it on it with his fists while yelling Friede's name. Liko, meanwhile, stared in abject terror. And even after Friede reassures them, Roy still frantically demands more answers while Liko just as frantically wants to know if Friede is okay, and a little bit after that has to take a deep breath to try to get herself to calm down. Keep in mind that just an episode prior to this, when faced with a sudden attack by the Explorers, Liko's first instinct was to call Friede for help, while Roy said that he would battle because there was no time to call Friede (not because calling for backup wasn't necessary). Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying the kids aren't brave. Of course they are! They both insisted on going on this mission in the first place! And they're there because, as concerned as Friede is for their safety, he is also Professor Pushover when it comes to them and caved immediately to their puppy eyes. But they also feel much safer on that mission because Friede is there with him. Feeling that he is in danger, cut off from them like that -- the stakes suddenly became that much more real.

And on the other side of the door, Friede knew it as well. And how did he react?

He's not happy. He knows this is a bad situation. But --

He does what he always does: he doesn't let on at all that this is a bad situation, so as not to worry and scare the kids. He also tells them to leave the area, because Spinel is there and Spinel is dangerous, and he wants to get them away from that danger. To date, Spinel is the most dangerous Explorer that they've encountered. Remember, Spinel is the one who successfully stole Terapagos' pendant, and the one who wiped Liko's memory and had her missing in Levincia for awhile. It's understandable why Friede would prioritize getting the kids as far away from him as possible.

So, to recap:

In a situation where, as far as the kids knew, Friede was just temporarily locked in a room away from them (in enemy territory but not with an enemy) and could still talk to them, it freaked them out enough to make them panic, and it took Landau telling them that they had to believe Friede could get himself out of the room and that they had to move forward for Liko to deep breath her way out of her mounting panic attack so she and Roy could move on. In a situation where Friede was actually captured, then, we could probably expect their reactions -- at least, their initial reactions -- to be much worse.

And I consider this possibility for two specific reasons: one genre, and one narrative.

First, genre. Pokémon has always been a coming-of-age story of sorts, but I feel that the Horizons anime feels especially so, focusing very strongly on Liko, Roy, and Dot as they grow up and discover both who they are, and who they want to be when they're older. (This has been especially emphasized with Liko and Dot, I feel; with Roy, he hasn't really thought about the future beyond battling Rayquaza.) The thing about coming-of-age stories set in fantasy settings, though -- rather, the thing about coming-of-age stories set in fantasy settings wherein the young protagonist has a stronger mentor that they can lean on to bail them out of jams is that, if they can consistently rely on the mentor to bail them out of jams and danger, then it doesn't give them the opportunity to overcome that danger themselves. Therefore, very often those stories will kill off the mentor character to force the younger protagonist character to go off on their own to face the primary villains in the end. Hence the deaths of characters like Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars, Gandalf in Lord of the Rings, and so on.

Now, given that this is a Pokémon anime, obviously they're not going to have Spinel murder Friede. I mean, true, they let Zygarde kill Lysandre on Bonnie's order at the end of the XYZ anime, but Lysandre was the big bad and we didn't see his corpse, it was just heavily implied that he didn't survive what Zygarde did to him. Same with Hunter J and her crew in the DP anime. Did she live? Probably not, but we never saw the bodies, so hey, plausible deniability, and they were villains anyway, so. But Friede is a main character, and a hero, so we can be 99.9% sure that they're not going to have Spinel or anyone else murder him in order to force the kids to get by without him for awhile.

However, Friede doesn't have to die for him to be taken out of the action. He just needs to be put into a position where it is physically impossible for him to get to them to save them when they're in danger (and for them to know that he can't get to them when they're in danger). But I'm getting ahead of myself. The point I'm making here is that, for genre reasons, the writers have a reason to want to remove Friede from the field of play in order to force Liko, Roy, and Dot to stand on their own against the Explorers. Because while they would still have the rest of the adult crew of the Rising Volt Tacklers, the rest of the adult crew aren't really battlers. The only one among them who has a fully evolved pokémon is Orio with Metagross, and we've only seen her attempt to battle once. It doesn't mean she can't, of course, but it does imply that perhaps she's not an active battler. Certainly, she's not the one rushing in to save the kids all the time like Friede is. The rest of the RVT crew is important as well, but Friede is the one who would cause the real narrative impact here, as well as the psychological impact on the kids.

(And to briefly address Dot, since I've barely talked about her: Dot hasn't received as much focus in this discussion since she rarely leaves the ship, and thus hasn't been in as much danger as Liko and Roy. However, Friede has had as much of an impact on her life and I believe she sees him as a personal hero just as much. He is, after all, the one who gave her the new life that has impacted her so greatly. He's the one whose thesis first caught her attention. He showed an interest in her interests. He called her abilities special. He invited her to join the Brave Asagi. He brought her aboard no questions asked, made her feel welcomed, has never shamed her for being a shut-in, so on and so forth. Friede treats Dot with as much respect as he does the rest of the crew and his offer to let her become a crew member changed her life for the better. So while he hasn't had to rescue her as much as the other two, I think she does see him as a hero just as Liko and Roy do, and would be just as affected if something happened to him as they would be.)

The other reason why I think the question needs to be asked is a narrative one. I think, from a narrative perspective, it would simply make sense for the Explorers to want to do something about Friede at some point, particularly if they wish to take Terapagos from Liko (or get the kids out of the way of their plans for Rayquaza / Terapagos / Rakua). Again, whenever the kids are in danger, Friede swoops in and saves them. This is something that Spinel, at least, has noticed; he built the trap on the island specifically to imprison Friede. Why would he do that, if Friede was not at the very least a nuisance, at the very most a threat? And at the end of it all, we got this:

Which then brings me back to what I mentioned earlier: since the anime clearly can't (and won't) murder Friede, because that would be going way too far for a Pokémon anime, if the writers do choose to temporarily remove him from the field of play in order to give the kids room to stand on their own two feet without Professor Safety Net, then I could see this playing out one of two ways.

The first (and most delicious) way is obvious: have him be captured by the Explorers. I feel that this is already set up by Spinel's little smirk and comment above. Spinel has already designed one trap meant to imprison Friede; there is nothing stopping him from designing more. Of course, it would require nerfing Friede (and Cap) a bit, in order to leave them captured for a good while; but it would also give the kids a mission, that mission being rescuing Friede and Cap in a reversal of all the rescues Friede and Cap have provided for them thus far, while simultaneously taking the fight to the Explorers, versus the Explorers always coming after them. Of course, this does carry the risk of still seeming too dark for the writers to want to consider, since Friede would be a prisoner during all this, but if nothing else, I can always write fic.

The second possibility that is less obvious and more bonkers, but less dark and so somehow more plausible in my mind, is that Friede could somehow end up trapped in Rakua with Lucius. And before you're like "what," consider this:

Friede has a plan that involves the three Heroes they've obtained so far. If I had to guess, Friede is going to continue pursuing the remaining Six Heroes while the kids are on their Terastal course. And that's fine / good; he's continuing the mission so they don't lose time, although how he's going to do that without Terapagos is a mystery. (Although I'm sure Liko would let him borrow Terry if he just asked.) But the point is, he's got this mysterious plan involving the three Heroes they currently have. Rakua is some mysterious place that isn't on any maps and so could very well be another dimension or something similar, because those are 100% canonically real in the Pokémon world (e.g. the Distortion World). It would behoove the writers to have Friede off the field of play for awhile, to the extent that it is physically impossible for him to help the kids. And the kids also intend to reach Rakua because that's what Terapagos wants. So if Friede somehow got trapped in Rakua, then they would be killing two birds with one stone: Friede can no longer help the kids when they're in danger from the Explorers, and the kids can rescue Friede when they take Terapagos to Rakua to see Lucius' spirit (or just Lucius himself if Lucius has been alive in Rakua all this time because it's like a fountain of youth or limbo or something). Bonus points if the kids don't even know that's where Friede is, if they just know that something happened to him but don't know what, but they keep working toward Rakua anyway because the other adults on the crew convince them that Friede would want them to. (But Friede can maybe still somehow get messages to them through Terapagos visions or something, I don't know.)

I could honestly see this being the way they go with it, simply because it's less dramatic than "the enemy has taken your mentor hostage and taunt you about how powerless you are to do anything about it and also they're going to hunt you down to steal your little turtle, too." Plus they're setting Friede up to do something with the three Heroes, and it can't be for nothing. But then again, neither can Spinel's interest . . .

Either way, the fact that the kids so clearly see Friede as their hero, and the way it would impact them to have something happen to him as a result, has lived in my head ever since episode 25. Particularly since it would have a narrative impact as well, given how often he is their safety net, and what it would mean if he couldn't be any longer. Not because he chose not to, because he would never choose that; but because he couldn't, because external forces took that choice away.

Well. Even if the anime itself doesn't deliver, that won't stop me. :)

#pokemon #pokeani #anipoke #pokemon horizons #horizons anime #professor friede #trainer liko #trainer roy #trainer dot #rising volt tacklers

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scarlettriot · 3 years

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Along for the Ride PT 1

Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader

Summary: A drunken mistake had you marking the little Plus One box to your snobby cousin's wedding. Kirishima told you not to worry, if you couldn't find a date, he'd go with you. When the wedding gets moved up, there's absolutely no time to find a date and you're now about to be traveling to America with Kirishima on a private jet no less, dreading having him meet your rude and impossibly arrogant family.

Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Kinda smutty for a minute. Minors DNI. Drunken Sex. TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues

A/N: This story has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I might rewrite this and repost. Or I might just post the whole thing soon. I dunno yet. It does get smuttier.

Word Count: 4,974

"What's up with Y/N?"

Eijiro stepped out of the locker room with a towel slung over his shoulder and made his way into the kitchenette where Mina was chugging a bottle of water before getting back to her patrol. His eyes were trained on their mutual friend out on the patio, pacing.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, the high neck of your hero costume unzipped to your collarbone and he noticed your gloves discarded on a chair.

"No clue." Mina shrugged. "She got back from patrol and she noticed a bunch of missed calls from her mom. She's been out there, flailing on the phone for the last fifteen minutes now."

The three of you had met in your second year at UA when you transferred into their class and were quickly accepted by their little squad of friends. You were a bit quiet at first but quickly found comfort in the group. Eijiro had grown especially close to you when you both interned with Fat Gum.

Late nights traveling on the train back to school, a few close calls while helping patrol, and days spent playing cards while you both healed up in the hospital left plenty of time for Eijiro to get to know you better than most. It was how he knew you had a pretty bad relationship with your family, why you hated returning home for the holidays almost as much as you hated any and all forms of tomatoes.

He considered going out there just to see if there was anything he could do but before he had the chance, you were sliding the glass door open. "Oh, good, you're back." He offered you a bottle of water for your throat that he assumed was sore after that argument. "I- um- can I borrow you for a second? Alone?"

Mina snorted a laugh. "If you guys wanna bang it out on the counter you can just say so. I gotta go to work anyways."

Eijiro threw the towel at her as she left the room leaving you two alone. "What's goin' on?"

You hoisted yourself up on the countertop while he leaned against the fridge. "You remember my cousin's wedding that's happening this winter?"

He nodded. He vividly remembered the both of you getting waste a few weeks ago when you were filling out the RSVP and accidentally marking 'plus one'. Then you ran around trying to find White Out but he'd told you if you didn't find a date or have a significant other by the time of the wedding, he'd just go with you.

You argued that your family was bat shit crazy, had more money than they could spend in their lifetime and because of that, they were among some of the rudest people you knew, and you didn't want Eijiro or anyone else around that.

The thing was, Eijiro already knew that and was still okay with going. He came from money too. A lot of it. His family was just more welcoming than yours, the wealth never really going to their heads. But, he reminded you that he'd ran into enough people like those in your family that he knew how to handle them. You finally agreed to let him accompany you, leaving the plus one box checked but the name line blank.

"Well, my cousin just found out that surprise, she's pregnant! And, obviously, she can't have a wedding while seven months along so they've decided to move the wedding up to this weekend."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "This weekend? As in four days from now?"

"Yup! Saturday at 4 in the evening. Oh! No one's supposed to know she's pregnant either. So, I'm just supposed to compliment her on how flattering her dress looks, how thin she is," Your hands strangled the water bottle between them, "And I have to find something flattering to my figure because my mother has seen me in my hero outfit and she's so glad I wear a mask because if anyone knew her daughter ran around looking like I do, well, it'd ruin her!"

You massaged your temples circling back to the actual point, "Anyways, I just wanted to bitch for a sec and let you know you're off the hook since four days is just a little short notice and I told her my plus one wouldn't be able to get the time off that fast."

He pushed off the fridge. "Well, wait, hang on! I'm not letting you go in alone to deal with them! Hell no! You need backup!" You looked almost taken aback by his abruptness, "Yeah. I can work this out. Is the wedding at the same place it was supposed to be or has it moved?"

"No, it's still that fancy lodge in California. I was planning on leaving Friday morning and then coming back either Sunday night or Monday morning since my mother insists I go to their brunch the following day. But, Eijiro, I already have this weekend off..."

"Denki owes me a favor or twelve. He's supposed to be off this weekend too, I'll just see if he can cover me."

"And if he can't?"

"Then..." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, "Y/N, am I feeling warm to you? I think I might be starting a fever!"

You folded your arms, shaking your head, "Thought you said lying isn't manly."

"Technically, correct. But, what would be real unmanly is for me to let you deal with your family's bullshit all alone." You watched him closely, "To be honest, I'm sure we could just explain you had a family thing come up and asked me to come along for moral support. I don't really think anyone would think twice about it. Hell, you took a few days off to console me when my turtle died suddenly!"

"Eiji, you refused to eat."

"And you brought me my favorite dumplings! Same thing!"

You might have shaken your head at him but your arms opened wide. The telltale sign you wanted affection. He walked forward, consuming you in a tight hug. Your arms latched around his neck, face buried in the hollow of his throat. "You're the best."

"I just do what I can."

>>><<<

You should have canceled. Instead of Eijiro faking sick to get out of work, you should have faked it with your mother so you didn't have to go in the first place. You crumpled to the floor of your bedroom in pure frustration amidst the twenty or so outfits and dozen pairs of shoes you'd thrown out of your closet trying to find something that your mother would deem appropriate.

It wasn't your fault you had a fuller figure. You worked out, ate right, not to mention your job kept you very active, and yet your, hips, ass, and breasts were by no means subtle.

Your mother had also insisted on the dress being floor-length and modern, "Do try not wearing all black. It's a wedding, not a funeral. And, get your hair looking natural, please." And, just like that, 70% of your wardrobe was out the window!

"It's open!" You called from the floor when the doorbell rang.

"You really should lock this." Mina tutted, walking through the door with a bag full of takeout.

"I do. At night."

"Honey, it's 9 PM."

"Night like bedtime."

Mina just rolled her eyes and walked into your tiny kitchen. "I see the dress hunt is going well."

"I actually figured it out!" You got off the floor, careful not to step on a heel as you made your way to the pink haired woman, "I'm just gonna go in my birthday suit. I figured, my mother made my body technically therefore she can't disapprove of it. Because, you know, she's never done anything wrong in her life!"

Your best friend snorted out a laugh and passed you the take-out container stuffed full of stir fry. "you're a wonderful person, you know that?" You loved the fact Mina didn't even have to ask what you wanted.

"If you'd just move closer to work then you could pick it up yourself and I wouldn't have to bring it to you."

"Too expensive." You declared after a mouthful. "You pay almost twice as much as I do per month and I just don't see the point. I have damn near the same amount of space you do for half the cost!"

You adored your small one-bedroom apartment. It was perfect. Right above a bakery that you visited each morning after your run and a little balcony that provided you with the most stunning view of the sunset.

"You and Kiri, I swear." Mina just shook her head and curled up with her food on the loveseat. "I thought he'd end up with the biggest house out of us all the moment we started making that real Pro money. You've seen his parent's house. It's massive! You could get lost in that place!"

Eijiro's place was barely bigger than your own. He lived in the same condo he had since you'd graduated UA, claiming it was perfect for him in each and every way. But, you knew that he donated a sizable amount of his paycheck every month to charities, the same as you. With savings to spare, neither of you saw the point in hoarding it and therefore the small condo was all he could afford with what he actually kept.

"Just don't understand how a guy that big can live in such a tiny little space. At least with you, it's you know, physically feasible."

Eijiro's bedroom was barely large enough to fit the king-sized bed the man needed to sleep comfortably and even then, his feet were dangerously close to dangling off the bed. And, as if the man's ears were burning, your cell phone went off under a pile of discarded shoes.

Shark-E: Figured out your dress situation? If not, I'm just gonna pack like ten different ties and hope for the best.

You: Yeah! I totally did! I'm just gonna wear this birthday suit I got and call it a night.

You chuckled at your own joke all over again. Watching the grey ellipses appear and then vanish, appear and vanish again. After a third time, you took pity on the man.

You: Joking, Ei. I still don't have it figured out but Mina's over so, hopefully, she can help.

Shark-E: Gonna give me a damn heart attack! Seriously, I wouldn't put it past you just to see the look on your mom's face. Tell Mina hi and good luck to you. I vote the dress from the Hero Gala two years ago.

You: Hi from Mina. Can't. Too much boobs.

Shark-E: You take that back right now! There is NEVER such a thing as too much boobs!

You chuckled to yourself, putting your phone down, and then finished off the last of your delicious dinner, thinking about the dress Eijiro mentioned.

You wondered if maybe there was a way you could make the thing work but it was so very low cut. So much tape had been used to make sure no slips happened but damn was it worth it! The beaded bodice with the sparkling long sleeves, gods, how you loved that dress.

"I'm inclined to agree with our shark boy. You're busty, who gives a damn. You looked hot as hell in that dress."

"My mother, that's who. As much as I'd like to not give a flying fuck what she thinks, for some dumb reason, I do. On top of her telling me that the amount of cleavage I would show would be vastly inappropriate for a wedding, she'd also say the way it hugs my hips makes them look too fat."

Mina rolled her eyes. "She's such a piece of work." Pushing herself up, she held her arms out to you, wiggling little pink fingers for you to take. "Come on then. Let's get you sorted."

"What about that one you wore to the charity art thingy with Kyoka last winter? The one with the silver top."

"Silver is too close to white." You called out from within your closet.

"What! Not true!"

"You know that. I know that. Every person with two brain cells knows that, which is why most of my family does not know that."

"Fine..." She whined and started sifting through the opposite end of your closet. "Oh, what about this?" Mina waved about the blue and green plaid skirt that made up your uniform from your middle school days when you lived in America. "Please try this on. I'm begging!"

You were pretty sure it wouldn't even go over your thighs anymore.

"It's got a better chance of fitting you!"

Mina threw it at you anyway. Slipping off the sweats you wore, somehow, someway, you were able to tug it on AND get it zipped, barely. It no longer covered your ass but you still enjoyed the way it swished around when you wiggled your hips.

"You could be fulfilling so many people's fantasies right now." Mina mused.

You pulled the skirt off and sweats back on, throwing the former back at her. "Yeah, you can take it and go fulfill Hanta's fantasies if you like. Not like I've got anyone to impress." You pulled down a dress you bought on sale a year ago but Mina was quick to dismiss it.

Too puffy, she said and then held up one that was from Momo. "I needed to get it shortened and I don't have time for that now."

"Wait..." She hummed and dropped the Momo dress. "I know what it should be!"

Mina hurried through the closet, grumbling about not finding it. "Just tell me which dress and I can tell you where it's at."

"It's that one you got for grad night and then you got sick and couldn't go!"

"Mina, Mina I can't wear that! That's actual vintage, not like, made-to-look-vintage!"

"But it's so elegant and has that off-the-shoulder sleeve thing. The wedding is at a damn sky lodge! It'll look so pretty in the snow! Ah! Found it!"

She yanked up the long, elegant gown from the garment bag you'd never removed it from. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the burgundy fabric. It looked just as beautiful as the day you found it in that second-hand store, on a mannequin with gaudy stage jewels that you just had to buy so the look was complete.

You ran the back of your hand over the velvety fabric, soft to the touch. "It'll be too tight now. If I was the same size I was at graduation-"

"Bullshit!" Mina cut you off with a dismissive hand, "You've got hips now. We aren't 18 anymore! It's not like it's some clubbing dress. And I bet no one would say a damn thing about your figure if they knew how easily you could crush them with those thighs!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without quirks, you gave every single one of your classmates a run for their money in hand to hand. Most were fairly easy to beat. You could usually take down Eijiro in about five or six minutes and Katsuki in half the time. Funny enough, it was Ochaco that gave you the hardest time.

"I'll consider it. But help me find something else just in case."

>>><<<

It was another two hours before you finally agreed on an a-line, empire waist green and gold number that had been the bridesmaid's dresses for Tetsutetsu's wedding. Mina thought they were a crime the first time they had to wear them, she had no idea what you were thinking.

That's why the moment you were preoccupied with trying to find yet another dress for the Sunday brunch, Mina pulled out her phone.

You: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow Y/N to wear the green dress. She's bringing two because she can't decide. Red is the winner!

Jaws: Aw, come on. If she likes it, let her wear whatever she's comfortable in. She'll be under enough stress already.

You: Kirishima, it's the dress from Tetsu's wedding. The one that looks sparkly baby food.

It took him a second to respond.

Jaws: Alright. Understood. I thought you guys looked good but damn, she hated that dress.

You: We all did.

Mina looked at the message chain again and couldn't help but asked, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you and Eiji are flying all the way to America, last minute, to attend a wedding together, even though you're not together?"

"We've flown to the states before."

"For work!" She sat up eagerly. "This is different, Y/N! This is a date and not just a, like, casual date but a wedding date!"

You poked your head out of the closet. "No, it isn't. This is a friend helping another friend who stupidly mismarked an RSVP." You corrected very plainly but Mina wasn't one to give up so easily.

She whined, dragging out your name, "You guys have been doing this thing for ages. Why do you have to be so stubborn about it all!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

Mina started ticking off points on her fingers. "He was the first person you opened up to at UA. You saved his life when he was busy saving Katsuki's life second year. You spent all that time interning together, became sidekicks together. Went to America together for three whole months, ALONE, and you honestly expect me to think there's nothing between the two of you!"

The truth of it all was simple really; 17 year old you had a massive crush on Eijiro Kirishima. He was sweet, always listening to you, providing comfort when you needed it, and always encouraging you to push your limits. He was bright and honest, a little slow in the head from time to time but that made him all the more endearing.

He was also head over heels in love with Katsuki Bakugo.

It was why you never made a move. Never spoke a word of the feelings you harbored. You didn't dare to cross that line with him because you couldn't ever hold a candle to the explosive man.

In the three years Eijiro and Katsuki spent together, your brain finally started registering Eijiro as just a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You thought your heart had followed suit but it was becoming more and more apparent that wasn't the case. Because the night he showed up at your door, tears in his ruby eyes, every lock you put on your heart broke open.

The same way you couldn't hold a candle to Katsuki, Eijiro couldn't hold one to Izuku. You knew exactly what he was feeling even if you never intended to tell him. Too overcome with fear. If Katsuki came back... that'd be it. Eijiro would go back and you wouldn't even blame him!

Still, the redhead consumed a decent chunk of your heart though, you couldn't deny that after the three months you spent together in America, gathering intel on a smuggling ring, living in the same apartment. The groggy, 'good mornings' when his voice was still scratchy with sleep, hair falling in his eyes. The late nights bandaging wounds and killing cheap bottles of wine while watching terrible American reality shows.

It was those bottles of wine that did you in on your second to last night in America. Supplying you with courage and draining your sense of reason, allowing you to crawl onto his lap, into his arms. You could still remember the pressure of his lips on yours, those sharp teeth gently dragging along your lower lip.

Scared hands tracing the curve of your ass before taking handfuls to squeeze. The laugh that came from you was unlike anything you heard before, something so genuine that you couldn't reproduce.

How it felt when he lifted you up and took you to his bed, laying you down taking his time removing your clothes, and watching with awe as you pulled away his own. The way he looked over top of you, his hair a curtain of red around you just before you closed your eyes, gasping while he filled you.

You also remembered the guilt that crept into your head during the wee hours of the morning, the doubt that was louder than the snores coming from behind you.

It made you slip from under his massive arm, gather up your clothes from his floor, you tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple before padding out of the room.

You told yourself you'd talk to him about it if he brought it up, but he never did. Not the next morning, or night, not on the plane ride back home, nor anytime since. It was a memory you'd hold close to your heart, one you wouldn't let slip away or share.

"There's nothing there, Mina. We're just good friends is all." You lied with a smile on your face, something that had become surprisingly easy to do.

If only you knew that Mina saw right through it. That Mina already knew the truth of it all.

>>><<<

It was nearly one in the morning when your phone rang. The goofy picture of Eijiro with face half painted at a festival a few years back never failed to make you grin.

"It's a little late." You answered by way of greeting.

"Don't pretend like you were anywhere close to sleeping, you little night owl."

Chuckling at the nickname that had followed you since high school, "What's up, Eiji?"

"I was going over flights. You said in the office that you wanted to leave on Friday?"

"Yeah. I have patrol tomorrow and I didn't find any flights after 6 PM so, Friday is the earliest."

He was quiet on the other line for a moment. "Yeah, you don't have patrol tomorrow, or work at all for that matter."

You sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Um, yes I do."

"No, you don't. I called Mina, asked her if you'd mind taking that shift for you and, since she knows what's happening, she agreed the extra day for travel would do you some good. So, she's covering you tomorrow then you're off work until next Wednesday. As for me, thanks to all that overtime I put in when Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi got married, the three of them are splitting up my days so I have until Wednesday too."

Eijiro sounded impossibly proud on the other line, you could almost see the smirk on his face. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"And a bag nearly packed. Just need you to tell me what ties to bring."

"Gold, burgundy, and black."

"Thought your mom said no black for you?"

"She said no black for the wedding. She said nothing about black at the brunch!"

You couldn't wait to put on the tea-length dress that had been a favorite for years. Satin with a lacy top and, best of all, pockets.

He let out a rumbling laugh that fell off into comfortable silence as you laid back in your bed, lights still on, the room still a mess. You tapped the speaker icon and laid the phone on the pillow right beside your head, listing to the various sounds of Eijiro moving around.

A door creaking open, a hanger clattering against another, and a zipper. "And just like that, I'm all set."

"Don't forget your passport or hero license."

"I have one in my wallet and the other in my backpack."

You swiped up on your iPad, off Netflix, and going to google, lazily searching through flights. "So, did you find any good flights since you've clearly been looking?"

Another chuckle, "Eijiro, why are you laughing?" More stifled giggles had you sitting up in bed again. "Just tell me a site you were on. They're just flights, what's so funny?"

"There isn't a site."

"You said you were checking flights."

"And I was... on my family's jet."

"Eiji! No! No, no, no! That is supposed to be for their business or hero things! My stupid cousin's wedding is neither of those things!"

"Relax, Y/N. My family has multiple and they don't have any business trips planned right now anyways. I already cleared it with my mom. Seriously, I just mention your name and she's likely to let me have it for a whole year at least. Plus Todoroki's is back up in working order so the agency is covered too."

Damn, why'd he have to be so good at planning from time to time! You'd completely forgotten about the second jet his family had. Always opting for the larger one since the few missions they needed it for required them to bring fifty or so heroes along.

"Besides, if we fly private, we can land at an airstrip closer to the venue and won't need to drive four hours on top of a ten-hour flight."

"Alright, okay, thank you but, let me take care of the rental car, please. It's the least you can let me do."

"Deal. I just have one more question for ya."

"What's that?"

"Wanna leave tonight?"

You nearly dropped your damn iPad in shock. "Eijiro! What the fuck has gotten into you! It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm excited!" He boomed, "I haven't had a vacation in months!"

"I hate to break this to you, buddy, but this isn't going to be a vacation. You really shouldn't get your hopes up. This isn't going to be a good time with laughs and fun memories... my family, they just, they aren't those kinds of people."

"But we are." He stated matter-of-factly. "If they want to have sticks up their asses then let them! We'll have a good time on our own, laugh and make fun memories! So, what do you say, Y/N? I can be at your place in fifteen. I just gotta put shoes on and grab my keys..."

"Wait, hang on. Are you forgetting that we need someone to, oh, I dunno, FLY THE PLANE! Actually, we need two someone's, can't forget about a co-pilot!"

He hummed happily and you rubbed your temples. "You, you have a pilot and a co, don't you, Eiji?"

"Mhm! There is a company we use. Two can be at the hanger in an hour and every hour after that. I just have to make the call and get the flight plan approved which will be done before I even get to your house."

There was literally no reason to say no. You had mostly everything packed, nothing you needed to get from the store, all you had to do was put on pants and pack up your hygiene bag and you were ready too. Maybe getting there quicker and getting the whole thing over with would be better than staying home dwelling on everything.

"Better put your shoes on."

The glee in his voice, that was enough to make this whole thing worth it, "I'll see you soon."

>>><<<

Eijiro reached into the backseat and plopped a bag down on your lap the very moment you were buckled in. "Had to make a pit stop." He explained.

"It's after two in the morning, where'd you have to..."

"Just open the bag and don't complain."

You found it filled to the brim with all your favorite snacks.

"I'm sure the plane will have a bunch of snacks we can raid but I know for a fact they don't have these." He held up a pack of cookies and creme flavored pocky that had been his favorite for as long as you'd known him, quickly followed by your favorite flavor too. You also found a massive bag of gummy worms and jolly ranchers.

"So, what you're telling me is our teeth are going to rot by the time we land? Not that I'm complaining."

You ripped open the bag of ranchers knowing that was what he'd go for first and sure enough his hand dove inside just as he pulled away from the curb. You could hear his dangerously sharp teeth biting through the rock candy like it was nothing while you still rolled one around your mouth.

Eijiro asked you about the resort you'd be going to, wondering if you'd been there before or what other stuff you guys could do when you weren't dealing with your family. "I figured we could fly back Monday night or Tuesday morning, you know, just play it by ear in case there was anything else we wanted to do."

More than anything, you wished you could just leech a little bit of that excitement from him. The glimpses of his smile you caught as you drove under the street lights made your heart ache.

"What?" He asked with that wide smile of his. You'd been caught staring, red-handed.

"I, uh, I just don't know what to tell you."

You could see the subtle change of his grin, watch as it softened and his hand came to rest on your thigh. "Hey, it's gonna be fine! And if we run into them while out doing stuff, you can just avoid them or hide behind me!" At least hiding behind Eijiro is an easy thing to do, damn mountain of a man.

His thumb slowly brushed back and forth. "'S gonna be okay. I'll beat 'em up if they're assholes!"

You snickered at his Katsuki impression and let the drone of the radio fill the air around you both. Enjoying the silence the rest of the way to the hanger with Eijiro's hand atop your leg.

#mha #bnha #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #eijiro kirishima #kirishima smut #mha x reader #mha x y/n

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fruitoftheweek · 3 years

Text

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 5: Matching Memories

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

Hey guys! Again sorry for the wait! Both my computer and my work schedule have been ass and every time I thought I was going to have free time, I absolutely did not. I was really looking forward to writing this chapter after all the appreciation I got from the last chapter and I am so excited to enduldge you with this 7,356 word chapter. I am also working on a fluffier oneshot that should come out in the next couple days which I am so excited to write! I hope you guys really like this chapter! Love you guys and thank you for 120 Followers!

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After the previous nights' escapades, you and Spencer decide to talk about boundaries as your team questions your budding relationship

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slapping, Oral Sex (male and female receiving), Handjob, fingering, pleading, spanking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, language, non-intentional self-harm (hard to explain), PDA, degradation, smut smut smut.

Word Count: 7,356

Spencer loved to match everything but his socks. You found that out the morning after your late-night escapades. You weren't sure if your alarm hadn't gone off or if you two had just slept through it but you two were running late and the plane was leaving in 40 minutes with a 30-minute drive to the airport. The actual thing that had woken you up was Morgan banging on the door, notifying you that he had dropped off Spencers go-bag.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" he shouted as he bumped his elbow on the table, hurriedly trying to get his socks on. You peeked around the door frame of the bathroom, checking on him to make sure he was ok as you shoved your toiletries into your bag. You watched, curiously as he stopped what he was doing and purposefully banged his other elbow on the same table. You made a mental note to ask him about it later, but right now, you had to go.

Along the way, you had noticed small habits that Spencer had to keep himself "matching." Once you saw it once, you couldn't help noticing it. How he brushed his teeth the same number of times on each side of his mouth. How he had to eat at least two peanuts at a time so that he could match the chewing on either side of his mouth. These were all harmless, but you worried when he bumped his right temple on the window of the cab as it went over a pothole, and you watched as he proceeded to turn his head and bump the other side. Most of the morning had been held in comfortable silence as you reveled in the afterglow of the previous night. So when you silently reached up to his head and brought it down to your shoulder, Spencer didn't mind. You made sure to gently rub his temple to apply even pressure to make sure his sides matched, a caring gesture that did not go unnoticed.

Luckily you two had made it to the jet on time, only catching a couple of questioning glances from Morgan and Elle as you rushed on, red-faced. You hurriedly sat next to each other as the plane took off, Spencer shoving both of your go-bags in the upper compartment as you held his book. He had brought Graziella, and had already read it 4 times; you, unfortunately, had brought nothing as it was your first trial case. He sat down, and you handed him his book, his fingers tentatively brushed yours in a silent question. Neither of you had fully discussed your relationship this morning in the rush and you could tell he was nervous to talk to you about it. As he pulled away, you captured his wrist before he could go too far, gently drawing a small heart into the inside of his wrist with your finger as you looked up into his eyes. He smiled slightly, understanding that you would talk about it when you had reached home.

This small gesture hadn't gone unnoticed as Morgan watched you from the other side of the jet. He stocked his way up to you with a shark grin on his lips as he smelled blood in the water. "So, You two woke up late huh? How come you never made it back to our room last night, pretty boy?" He mused, enjoying the light pink tinge resting on Spencer's cheeks. "You were the one who took both of our room keys and wouldn't let me in! And- and she was nice enough to let me sleep in her room even though it was a one-person room." He retorted, knowing Morgan's implications. "Woah, chill, Reid. I was just asking some questions." Morgan replied, feigning innocence. "Yeah, I took Reid's virginity last night. How could you tell?" You stated matter of factly, earning a shocked squeak from Reid, and spluttered out laughter from Morgan. "That's what you want to hear right? C'mon Spencer, he’s just giving us a hard time because he wasn't invited to our movie marathon last night." You lied, shooting a joking wink to Spencer, hoping he would get the drift and go along with the story. "Hey, we didn't- yEAh he wouldn't get the nuance of 'Une Femme est Une Femme' and the directorial skills of Jean-Luc Godard." He said, catching on when you pinched the soft spot under his ribs. Morgan just rolled his eyes, frustrated at not getting what he wanted before sulking back to his seat.

You smiled up at Spencer before saying, "Good boy," just loud enough for only the two of you to hear. It was the first time you had alluded to your escapades that yestereve and you both felt a breath of fresh air as the slight tension was lifted off of your backs. Spencer was flustered in multiple ways; he loved the way you praised him, and he now believed you felt regrets about your exchange.

He felt electricity crackling in every gentle secret touch of yours that he had the luxury of experiencing that day; all he could think about was how you had touched him and how your skin felt on his. You had him wrapped all-around your finger, and he couldn't be happier. All he wanted to do was service you and please you, even in non-sexual ways, which he was happy to indulge in as he watched you staring out the window. Your fingers were discreetly tracing small drawings on his knee cap as you watched the clouds pass by. The motion caused him a great distraction from his book, and all he could do was watch your finger. Even though you weren't paying any attention to the motion of your fingers, Spencer could still envision the lines you created carving into his skin. Sometimes a little face, sometimes an abstract geometric rhombus, and his favorite, a heart with puffy humps and a pointy end. Every time you drew it, he became hyper-aware of the gentle flush coloring your cheeks as you looked out the window, sending him a secret message.

He quietly cleared his throat, as to not disturb the others; most of which had chosen to indulge in a little extra sleep to make up for their early morning. It had broken you from your entranced gaze out the window and you looked over at him smiling. "D-Did you bring anything to do on the plane?" Spencer asked as you continued your drawings on his leg. "Surprisingly, that was the one thing I forgot. I was so worried about making sure I was well briefed on the case that I forgot all about the flight." You said, smiling sleepily. He couldn't help but think about how beautiful you were at that moment. The gentle sunrise behind you in the window illuminated the apples of your cheeks and the highlights in your hair, which was still messy from sleeping so soon after your shower. Your eyes were puffy except for the sockets, which were slightly sunken in from lack of sleep, and you were fresh-faced, small blemishes now in the open, but all Spencer could think was that you reminded him of the fresh air of spring in the morning after a storm. He shook himself from his trance as you began to turn back towards the window. "You know, if you would like, I can read to you." He said shyly. "I know you read faster in your head, don't feel like you have to read to me because I was silly and forgot to bring a book." You said, smiling at his gesture. "N-No, I want to read to you. My mom always used to read out loud to me when I was little when she would wake up early." He said, adding waveringly, "And... and I would like to read to you, not because you didn't bring anything, but because I think you would like this book." You smiled up at him, lifting the fingers you had been swirling on his leg to your lips before gently kissing them, pressing them to his cheekbone, and returning them to their reserved spot on his leg. He took that as a green light to read aloud.

You watched as he closed the page he had been reading to flip to the beginning. You knew he remembered what page he was on but his choice to start you from the beginning melted your heart. He really wanted you to appreciate this story so you were going to give 110% of your attention to the words flowing out of his mouth.

"Ok, this book is Graziella by Alphonse de Lamartine. I arrived at Naples on the first of April. A few days later, I was joined by a young man of about my own age, to whom I had attached myself at college with the friendship of a brother." He began as you listened intently, enjoying the gentle atmosphere created by the soft hum of the jet and snores of your colleagues. Spencer continued reading aloud to you on autopilot as he focused on the drawings of your fingers, now all turned to hearts.

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

The problem with taking a morning jet home was that you would have to go straight to the office to finish your paperwork before finally being able to rest in your own bed. You all trudged out of the car and into the office in varying states of awakeness, dreading the hours of work to come.

"Welcome back, you guys!" Garcia said, miscalculating the tone in the room, earning her a couple nods and grunts in response.

"Hey, I'm going to my friend's apartment tonight, and she lives by you. Since you take the train home and I'm going that way, do you want a ride?" You said to Spencer, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. For a Genius and a Profiler, he sure was bad at picking up clues and hints. You weren't really going to see your friend, you just wanted some alone time with him to straighten things out, but he obviously didn't understand. "I mean if it's on the way, that would be nice. Thank you Y/L- Agent Y/L/N." He said, nearly forgetting to call you Agent in front of the others. You smiled and headed back to your seat begrudgingly, seeing the mountains of paperwork.

It was kind of sweet how oblivious he was. You were trying to be discreet at work, and you could tell he was trying too. Keyword: trying, as he was failing miserably. You could tell he was trying to be sneaky, but there was nothing sneaky about him following you to the coffee machine every time you needed a refill. He told you it was because he wanted to match and you couldn't help but indulge him. He wanted to match coffee, unfortunately finding out that you did not, in fact, like as much sugar in your coffee as him. You settled for a little bit too sweet and him not enough for the sake of matching. He came to your desk, trying to trick you by asking to borrow a pen, even though you could see his usual green pen in his shirtfront pocket. He was just so cute and just so obvious so you caved, but it was only because you wanted to see the beam on his face knowing there was yet another way you two could match. His boldest move yet was to match sweaters. If you had yours on, he had his on; when you took yours off, he would follow suit. Even though it was very cute, he was being far too bold so after a while, you decided to just keep it on.

Finally, after hours of handwriting reports and witness statements, your cramped hand said a thank you as you signed off your last sheet. You stretched languidly, looking over to Spencer's desk. He had been done for a while but was pretending to be busy so he could wait for you without subliminally pressuring you to hurry. You pulled your go bag and satchel together, getting ready to leave as you watched Spencer hold his bag, waiting for you to make the first move. You clicked your tongue at him as if you were calling a cat, "Let's get going, I don't want to be late to see my friend!" You called over to him as he shot up, padding quickly to catch up to you. "Goodnight guys! Sleep well!" You called to Morgan, Elle, and Garcia, the only ones left in the bullpen. "Ok, now something definitely has to be going on," Elle said as they watched you two leave, Spencer tripping over himself as he got in the elevator behind you.

You two shoved your bags in the back seat and got in the car. As you turned the car, your music started blaring out of the speakers. "Woah! Sorry! I like to drive with the windows down so my music is usually pretty loud." You said as you slammed on the pause button. Spencer was startled but he didn’t mind as he'd just learned new things about you. 1. You like loud music 2. You like the windows down when you drive. 3. You have great taste in music. "That's ok. Just make sure you turn down the volume sometimes, 17% of adults aged 20–69 years have suffered permanent damage to their hearing from noise-induced hearing loss. And that was... certainly loud enough to cause some noise-induced loss. Make sure to take care of yourself." He said and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. His naive sweetness and caring nature had been gnawing at you all day. All you had wanted to do while you were trying to focus on work was kiss him.

You leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Even though you came in slow, you surprised him. Here you were in the Quantico parking lot, boldly kissing him when any of your coworkers could have seen. "Why-why did you do that?" he asked as you pulled away. "I can't?" you asked, pouting slightly, teasing him. "N-No, You can you can, we're just so out in the open, and we haven't talked about anything, so I didn't know how you felt, and you were ignoring me all day." He rushed out as you let out a little laugh at him. "Let's drive, cutie." You said, turning your music back on, this time to a lower volume, as you pulled out of the parking lot and down the street. "First of all sweetness, I wasn't ignoring you all day, I didn't want Morgan to tease you again. You were busy with paperwork and I knew you didn't need him being an asshole to you to make it worse. Second, did you see all the paperwork they had left? There was no way any of them would have been out in the parking lot yet." You said as you smoothly merged onto the highway towards your house.

You were wondering when he was going to notice that he was going in the opposite direction of his house but he was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You glanced over at him before returning your eyes to the road. You cursed yourself for not having an eidetic memory because you would have kept a snapshot of him like that in your mind forever. His hair, once slicked back, now slightly disheveled from running his hands through it as he did his paperwork and the wind from your open windows. The cool summer wind that rosied his cheeks and the tip of his nose as he gazed out the streetlights overhead. Blue, red, green, purple yellow, white; the blinking lights of the city married the sunset hues that danced across his face. Illuminating his beautifully arched nose and his prominent cheekbones, it felt as if the sun was setting just for him and the city was awakening his beauty.

You smiled to yourself as you switched the cd in the cd player for one of your classics. "Hey! You listen to these guys?! You know I was going to see them last year but then we had this case out of town and I had to miss it. That was when they were still playing at that bar by the Speedway that burnt down." Spencer said excitedly. "Really!? You like them too? I haven't seen them yet but I've been listening to them since college. I never had that much money to be spending on tickets for shows beyond small house shows. I can't believe you like them, I always thought you were more of a Debussy or Chopin person." You replied, excited to have something to share. "Yeah I mean I like pretty much every genre but I've been really into their old stuff lately and, surprisingly, also french 70s music." He said matter-of-factly.

Contrarily, he was fibbing. He knew exactly why he had been listening to it. The previous night he had dreamed of the two of you off the shore, in the south of France in spring, reading books across from each other, legs tangled together, on a chez lounge. Jacqueline Taieb played on the radio as you pulled him up to dance. He removed the thoughts from his mind as he realized his predicament. He didn't know if he was allowed to think about you like that. You had been so sweet and caring towards him last night, and you kissed him so sweetly, but he was still unsure of where you stood. He was still lost in thought as you pulled up to your apartment and parked.

"Hey, this isn't my apartment. Is this your friend's place?" He asked, surprised. "No, Sweetheart. I didn't want Morgan to bother us as we were leaving so I made up some excuse. And this is my apartment. If you want to talk about what happened last night, you can come in. Well, I guess you can come in if you don't want to either, but that's beside the point. If you don't want to talk about it or if you just want me to take you home, I can do that right now. It's up to you baby." You said, gently taking his hand in yours. "I-I want to talk about it." He said shyly. "Alright then, my partner in crime. I will welcome you into my abode. We can order some dinner and talk about it. I'm thinking curry, what about you?" you said.

You could sense his nervousness and tried to lighten the mood even though deep down you were pissing yourself. You had never really done this either. You had a couple of one-night stands and short-term relationships, but nothing that lasted that long, and something in you wanted this time to be different. The young doctor was so endearing, and he was the first person who seemed to be interested in making you happy in the relationship, unlike most of your past suitors. You were terrified that you would push him too far or something would change, and that's why it was so important you had a talk and had trust and communication. You held his hand all the way up the stairs and to your apartment, not letting go when you went to open your door. You told yourself it was to make him feel better but you knew it was because you needed to do something with your hands to get them to stop shaking.

"Sorry, it's not the cleanest space ever. I wasn't expecting guests" you said as you began to tidy up random things around the room, mostly mason jars full of water or a stray empty mug. Spencer took note of his surroundings, drinking everything in. He couldn’t remember what he assumed your apartment would look like because as soon as he entered, he couldn't imagine you living anywhere else. It was all the parts of you that he knew and all of the parts he had yet to learn. He knew that you loved reading, so the bookshelves made sense. He knew that you loved music, so the cd player with piles of CDs next to it made sense. He knew you loved movies, so the VHS player and tv with a built-in DVD player and even more stacks of media made sense. But his favorite part was the giant easel positioned by the window with a large canvas on it. "Wow, Y/N! You paint?" he asked as you continued to clean up. "Oh, don't mind that! Sorry I didn't have time to put it away before we left! I'll get it out of your way!" You said, already carrying a basket full of god knows what in your arms. "No, No! Please leave it out. It's beautiful." He said, looking at your brush strokes. "Suit yourself. Let me know if it gets in your way," you said, finishing your cleaning by fluffing the pillows on your couch.

You finished bustling around your apartment and sat down on your couch across from the TV. He slowly made his way over to you, sitting at the opposite end from you, still unsure of your boundaries. You could spot his nerves from a mile away, so you swung your legs up onto the couch and poked him in his side with your feet. "Why are you sitting so far away, Sweety," you said as he looked over at you. You looked just as you did in his dream, soft and comfy in slouchy clothes. He hadn't noticed that you had changed into some comfy pajama pants and a loose pajama top, and now he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you changed at some point when he was in the room. He knew it was silly. He had already seen you naked, but it all felt like a dream." I'll call and order, and you think about what you want to eat and what you want from me for a bit, ok? I know this great place a couple blocks from here." You said as you pulled out your landline, and dialed the number that you had scrawled on a notepad on your coffee table.

Then, Spencer saw the notepads, notebooks, sticky notes, and other odds and ends that you had all over the house. One on the fridge, one by the easel, one on the tv stand, two on the coffee table. They were all decorated differently for each task, of which he could see two, one titled 'Yummy restaurants' and the other titled 'movies to watch.' He tried to stop his distracting thoughts of how comfortably he fit in your space and how every item embodied you perfectly, all in different ways. When he was finally able to focus, he felt you start absentmindedly kneading your feet on his thigh that was closest to you. He could barely look over at you, finding you unbelievably erotic. He sucked in a breath as your pajama shirt was only buttoned up so much, enticingly drawing his eyes to the swell of your breast that he could see above the collar of your shirt.

You hooked your foot up under his thighs and brought his legs up onto the couch as you continued to order. You tangled your legs together, lifting your right foot to his chest, gently tapping out a rhythm absentmindedly as you talked. You broke through Spencer's entrancement, asking "What do you want to eat?" "Um... Whatever you're getting." He responded, as he still hadn't even begun to look at the menu. "Yeah! Then for the second order, can I get the same thing but make it mild." You said, poking your tongue out at him teasingly before finishing your order.

You two walked to pick up your food, talking about nothing in particular. You didn't want to talk about the elephant in the room until you got back, so you filled the space with meaningless conversation that instantly stopped as you entered the house. It was silent as you got forks ready, spying Spencer sitting rigidly straight on the couch, waiting for you.

"You know, you were so bold in the office today that I didn't expect you to be this shy when we got here. We don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to, sweet-" "I do, I really do." He said, cutting you off. "Ok! That's great. Well, I'm going to start off by saying that any relationship like this, whatever you want that to be, depends on strong trust and communication. That goes beyond the bedroom. Being on the team I trust you with my life. I know I'm new so I understand if you don't trust me yet but I just wanted to set that baseline with you. I'm going to be 1000% truthful with you and I'm going to start by saying this. I don't regret anything that we did last night. I loved what we did last night and I really like doing this with you. I want to explore with you if you would be so gracious as to let me. I find you very interesting, and I would like to be friends or more depending on what you want as we continue our rendezvous." You said as you grasped his hands, willing him to look into your eyes. He let out a sigh of relief. "I really liked what we did yesterday too. I was kind of worried that you regretted it or something. I'm really really new to everything, but I feel comfortable exploring if it's you. You made me feel really safe last night and I appreciate that a lot. I find you really beautiful and sexy and intriguing and I would like to be friends and maybe more with you now. I don't know if I'm allowed to say this... but I want to." He said, gaining some confidence. "You are allowed to say whatever you want, baby. That's why we have open communication. Everything is to make sure you are feeling as good and safe as possible," you said, rubbing his hand. " You should feel safe and good too. I know you are more experienced than me, but you deserve to be safe too." He said gently before continuing. "I was wondering if... if I could request that this be monogamous. I get really upset thinking about you with someone else." He said, and you could feel the shaking in his hands as he anticipated your reply. "Of course, sweetheart. I was hoping you would ask. Maybe I'm a little selfish, but I don't like to share my things. They're mine for a reason." You said before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, earning a smile from him. "But I think, for now, I would like to be friends and see how it goes from there while we... explore," Spencer said. You nod and smile in agreement.

"Alright, so Spencer, tell me what you're interested in, sexually. What do you think about when you jerk off? What did you think about when you read my book?" You asked nonchalantly, as you picked up your curry and rice, taking a bite as if you'd just asked him about the weather. "w-well, I think about a lot of things." He sputtered out. "Just give me a little list I can work off." You said in between bites. "Um, I like seeing you naked. I like it when we match because it feels like we have a deep connection. I like h-how you touched me yesterday. I want you to touch me more." He said shyly, hiding his face behind his cup of water. "And the other two questions?" You prodded, watching as the bulge grew in his pants. "Um, what do I think of when I jerk off? Oh my god, I can't believe I'm saying this," He blushed before continuing. "I think about how it would feel to have your mouth wrapped around my cock. I think about you calling me a naughty boy. I think about you praising me. I think about your book and how there's so much more that I have to read. I think about you not wearing panties at work. And I think even more about pulling you into the storage closet, lifting up your skirt, and fucking you while everyone is working. I think about your piercings, and I think about your piercing chapter."

"What did you think of that chapter by the way? You ran off to the bathroom pretty quick. What were you thinking of doing to me, naughty boy?" you said, setting your food down on the table, leaning towards him, hands planted on his thighs. "Tell the truth, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," You said, squeezing into his thighs. He bucked up towards you, searching for friction in any way he could." f-fuck. I read the chapter when I was touching myself. I thought about how you had pointed at my boner, and I thought about how I wanted you to make fun of me, and smack me, and punish me for being naughty." he said hurriedly, hoping his answer would satiate you. "Nuh-uh! Come on, tell me the whole truth," you said and smacked his thigh. He yelped as your hand came down, leaving him with a dull sting. "Ok! But it's embarrassing so don't laugh... I thought about you cockwarming me while I pierced your tongue, and how you would drool, and how you would squeeze around me. I thought about how I wanted to mark you and make you mine." He said, covering his eyes, hiding from his shame and how it made his cock stir in his pants. "You naughty, naughty boy, Spencer Reid. I thought you were innocent but here you are with your hand on your cock, at work, thinking about my pussy and my tongue and my spit, and it made you cum. What a rascal!" you said, watching for a reaction in his pants.

You pried his arm from his eyes, so he was forced to look at your smirk. His face and neck were a deep pink, and his lips were as pillowy and soft as a rose petal from biting his them. You couldn't help yourself as you pounced on him. You knew this was supposed to be just a talk about boundaries, but there was an undeniable electricity in the air that had been lingering from the moment you had woken up. He looked so fucked out, even though you hadn’t touched him yet and part of you wanted to absolutely ruin him that night. "Remember your colors, baby. What are you feeling?" You said, now perched in his lap. "Green, green. P-Please touch me." As he said it, you ground down on him. While you were in your comfortable clothes, he was still in his tight corduroys and button-down, sweater long gone somewhere else in the apartment. "Have you ever heard of something called edging?" You asked, and he nodded excitedly. "What about overstimulation?" You said, and he nodded quickly again. "What do you think about them?" He nodded, and you smacked him, not as hard as you would usually go, but enough to leave a sting. "Use your words, naughty boy." You said, capturing his jaw and tilting his face up to meet yours. "Yes, please. I'm so green. I have been wanting you to do this, please." He shot out through squished cheeks, looking at you with the most hungry eyes you have ever seen. His warm hazel eyes, now shiny and black with desire.

You got up off of him, and he whined, missing the warmth of your body on his. You grabbed him by the back of his neck like he was a naughty kitten, and pulled him down the hall and into your bedroom. Before he could take in your room, you pushed him back on the bed. "Strip." You commanded, and your scent overwhelmed him. Your daily aroma that intoxicated him was ten times weaker than the pure pheromones that blanketed your room. Spencer mused that your room must have been built to have sex in. Your bedside tables were adorned with candles, incense, your daily jewelry, and a pair of your panties. You had a red canopy on your four-poster bed that draped your room in a soft red glow.

Your figure was obscured by the canopy as you moved some items around your room. Spencer was lost in your scent, the idea of finally being in your room, and possibly a little lost staring at the panties on your table, making him move too slow for your liking. You parted the fabric and crawled up the bed to him. "Spencer Walter Reid, if you don't strip now, you're going to get a spanking. You have been such a naughty boy today. I thought you were going to be a good boy for mommy but I guess you want to get punished." You said as you slinked back off the bed. "I'm going to count down from 10 and if you aren't naked by the time I reach 0, you are getting spanked. Understood?" You said, and he squeaked out and "Understood!" "10... " Who knew it took so long to unbutton a dress shirt? "9... " Now, his hands were stuck in his sleeves. "8..." Shirt off. "7..." Is his belt broken, or is he shaking too much? "6..." Belt undone but not off. "5..." Pants, ok. "4..." Fuck, his shoes are stuck on. "3... 2... 1... 0. STOP NOW"

You parted the curtain, smirking down at him. "I think I said naked, not underwear on." You said, looking down at him. "You didn't give me enough time!" He whined but you were already flipping him onto your lap with his ass perched in the air. "Color?" You asked, earning his eager response of "Green, so green." You pulled his underwear off and hung it on the corner of your side table, right next to your own panties. The sight was oddly domestic, making him even harder as he tried to rut into your leg. Your hand came down hard on his ass and he bucked into you moaning in shock. "You naughty boy, pathetically rubbing on me. Does my thigh feel good baby?" you asked, and he nodded. Your hand came down hard on his other cheek "How many times do I have to tell you? Use. Your. Words." Punctuating your last three words with three more smacks to his ass, gently rubbing the red skin as he cried out. "Yes, mommy! Your thigh feels so good! Thank you so much!" he said as he ground himself down on you pitifully. "Why is mommy punishing you, sweetheart?" you said, sweetening your tone. " Because I didn't get dressed?" He asked. "Hm, if you were really sorry, you would know what you were sorry for. What are you being punished for? One more chance." You said, smoothing over the plains of his ass. "For being a naughty boy who doesn't listen and rubs his cock on mommy too much." He said. "So close, baby!" You said as you brought down one last smack to his ass as his cock leaked precum all over your legs. "You were getting punished because you don't listen and because you were being really naughty at work, sweetheart. But you took punishment so well, so you deserve a treat." You said as you flipped him over, making sure he was laying in a comfortable place on the bed.

"C-can we match?" He said, pulling on your sweater. You smiled down at him sweetly as you stripped, taking your time to let him gaze over the planes of your body. When you returned, you sat high up on his stomach, making sure he couldn't get any friction against you as you kissed him softly. He was still a little clunky when it came to kissing but when you took it slow, it helped him warm up to your motions until you two were completely in sync.

"Alright, so I'm going to do some new things. Let me know at any time if you aren't comfortable or you want me to stop." You said, and you turned so you were sitting on his chest, looking down at his cock, as he got a wonderful view of your ass and the dimples in your back as your muscles flexed. You collected some spit in your mouth and let it drip down slowly onto the head of his already overly excited cock. He hissed as your finger swirled in the spit that pooled at the base of his cock as you wet your hand before grasping his length. Even though he had felt this exact same thing yesterday, he could never get over the sensation of your hand squeezing around him, circling his cock, and playing with the tip with your thumb. You spit into your other hand and wrapped both hands around his length, working them up and down his shaft, gently twisting and squeezing. The best part was that he couldn’t see anything you were doing. It was like he was blindfolded, stomach muscles tensing in anticipation of your touch.

"Fuck baby I'm close." And that was when you stopped. right as he was about to cum, you squeezed down hard at the base of his cock. "You don't cum until I do." You said, scooting your core back so that it was a couple tantalizing inches away from his face. "Really? You'll let me eat you out? For real?" He asked, mind blown at the idea of eating you out. "I was hoping you would." You replied, waiting for him to make a decision. He hooked your arms around your thighs and pulled you into him so hard, you were worried he broke his nose at first. 'I need a man who eats pussy like it's the only way to quench his thirst' rung out in his head. That's what you had written in your journal titled "Male needs" and he wanted to be a Male that you needed, so that's what he did. He flattened his tongue as he licked a long stripe up your folds, and back down to your clit, latching on hungrily, alternating between sucking hard and twirling his tongue on it. "H-Holy shit Spencer." You moaned, and you knew you wouldn't last long. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you were soaking wet just from teasing and punishing him. That, coupled with how sweet his tongue was on your core, and you were done for. You certainly had never had a man eat you out like this, much less a virgin. "Shit baby, you're so good? How did you get so good?" You asked incredulously, as he reached his hand back around and inserted a finger between your folds, giving his mouth a short break. "I read the literature and from what I saw, the g spot should be about here." He said before curling his fingers inside of you, brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing you to moan deeply. His smirking mouth found its way back to your clit as he added another finger, working your g spot with feverish strokes.

"Fuck, baby! I'm cumming!" You shouted and right as you were reaching your peak, he stopped everything. "What the fuck are you doing!?" You yelped at him, your mounting peak now decrescendoing before ever hitting the climax. "I thought we were matching. You're edging me, I'm edging you." He said innocently, but you could hear his smirk tinging his words. "You just want to be punished huh?" You said and squeezed down on his base as you kissed the tip of his cock. "Naughty boys don't get proper head. When you make me cum, then I'll actually suck your cock. Got it?" You asked as he bucked his hips"Yes." He replied fervently.

This was his first-ever experience getting head, so of course, you were going to give him a good time. He would just have to wait. You held down at the base of his aching cock as you lazily sucked and licked the head. Not even close to the usual effort you would put in, but it was enough to make his legs shake and finger you faster. His mouth was too busy panting and whining to eat you out but you were fine with that because the way he was curling his fingers was creating a knot in your stomach and you could feel your impending release. "Fuck baby I'm cumming. Let me cum this time." You said and he reattached his mouth to your clit, sucking hard as he used all of his willpower to keep himself from cumming. And just like that, you're cumming all down his face and fingers as you shake but he keeps going, this time with more enthusiasm, riding you through your orgasm and overstimulating you. You eagerly take him into your mouth all the way, sucking hard, lathering his length with your spit, and in two seconds he is cumming hard down your throat. "Mommy I'm cumming" He said a little too late as you had already swallowed around him.

You were both so caught in the afterglow that you just kept going. Aftershock spurts of cum kept shooting down your throat but you kept sucking. You wanted him needy and wrecked under you. "Oh my god! ah! AH!" He said, shaking as you keep sucking him down. He keeps finger fucking you as if he is possessed. You are both riding your highs and are so overstimulated that in no more than a minute you are both cumming all over again as sobs wrack your bodies.

You flop down next to Spencer and kiss his cheek tentatively, knowing most men don't kiss after head. Spencer leans up, kissing you passionately, tangling his tongue in yours, tasting your release on each other's tongues. "Flip over baby," You said as he rolled over. You pulled out your lotion from your bedside table, gently warming up a small amount in your hands before spreading it on his butt. "I don't know about you, but I'm way too tired to take a shower tonight. I'm just going to put our leftovers in the fridge and brush my teeth. I have some spare toothbrushes if you would like to borrow one, and some pajamas." You said to a very sleepy Spencer. He didn’t even say anything, he just grumbled and got up, leaning on you.

He helped you clean up, both still naked, enjoying the domesticity of just walking around completely vulnerable together. You needed to brush his teeth for him as he sat on the toilet lid and you couldn’t help but think he looked like a little baby, barely clinging to the little energy it had before a nap. You got him up and back in bed, looking down at his naked form, now noticing the gentle matching bruises on either side of his body. “I know you like to match but take care of yourself. Don’t bang yourself up so much. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You said as you picked his clothes off of the floor. You reached down for your pajamas but before you could get them back on or pull him into his, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down on top of him."I’ll try to stop. Only for you, and only because you asked so nicely. Right now, I’m too sleepy, let's sleep naked. Night night." He mumbled into the crook of your neck. Warmth enveloped your body at his words, “only for you.” Somehow that was all it took to finally give in to sleep's welcoming grasp, reveling in the warmth shared between your skin.

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Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

And there we go, that's chapter five! Make sure to give me any comments, criticisms, or ways to better the plot. I hope you guys liked this chapter. I tried to balance out the sweet and spicy aspects of this one. I hope you guys have a great night!

Tag List: @spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @spencersmagic @uhuhuh @living-for-romance @aharvey979 @xoxo-jnh-xoxo @marrymespencerrei @crypticcorvidinacottage , @ladydragoneye , @stjoaninthewildwest

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #sub spencer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #sub!spencer #pervspence #pervespencer #perve spencer reid #perv spencer reid

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will-on-the-internet · 4 years

Text

Fire Alarms | Spencer Reid

Summary: After a fire alarm sends you spiralling into a panic, Spencer makes it his mission to look after you.

Warnings: mentions being scared of loud noises, mentions of food, fire, smoke, fluff, angst, swearing!

A/N: This is based on an experience I had this morning where a fire alarm sent me into a total panic, and it is quite a self indulgent fic. Also, there might be errors, since it’s literally 2 am when I’m posting this.

Word Count: 2.5k

LINK TO AO3: AO3

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You hated loud noises, had hated them ever since you were a kid and the fire alarm went off in your parent’s kitchen, shrill, terrifyingly loud and screaming as if to say, “GET OUT”. And as you grew older, your hate for loud noises slowly turned into a fear, paralysing you and forcing you to cower like the child you once were.

The team at the BAU knew this, they knew you hated the sound of a gun going off, or that an explosion would leave you rattled for days after. But they were sounds you expected in your line of work. You knew how to cope, what to do when you felt your body freezing and the sound shaking through your ears in a way that chilled your veins with fear.

It was the unexpected sounds that terrified you. From a car back firing down the street, a door slamming shut in the wind or a sudden bang out of nowhere, sometimes you couldn’t help the gnawing panic that rose up in your stomach, let the shakes take you and your heart rattling in your chest. And, like Spencer learned on an ordinary Friday night, fire alarms were the worst.

The two of you had a night off for once in your busy work lives, free from paperwork, a deadly case or even drinks with the rest of the team. Tonight, it was just the two of you, trying to cook dinner and have just one normal night as a couple. Dinner was something homey, some nice pasta in a rich sauce and some homemade garlic bread that JJ had made. Neither you or Spencer had taken a night to yourselves to relax in what felt like ages, always hopping from one case to another, and when you did have time together, it was just to sleep. But now, as Spencer slowly drained the pasta, you smiled softly.

And that’s when it happened. The piercing shriek of the fire alarm sounding through the apartment, deafening you and scaring the living out of Spencer, causing him to shout in surprise and drop a pot into the sink. It kept going and going, ringing against your ear drums, and making you look around wildly for the culprit of the fire alarm. But Spencer reached it first, turning off the oven and picking up a tea towel to wave around furiously, trying to rid the room of the smoke that started to billow out of the oven.

“Fuck…FUCK. Baby, go open some windows!” Spencer didn’t hesitate to take charge, glancing at your frozen figure and noticing the way that your fists were clenched tight, nails surely digging into the palms of your hand. He knew the best thing to do was to get you away from the noise, to distract you while he delt with the problem at hand. Yet you didn’t move, stuck where you were standing until Spencer placed his hands on your cheeks. “Sweetheart, I need you to go open the windows for me, it’ll help with moving the smoke around and get it out of the apartment faster. Do you reckon you can do that for me?” He stared right at you, not letting your gaze move from his face until he watched you nod. “Okay, it’ll be okay. I’ll have it off in no time, I promise.” Spencer gently pushed you towards the hallway then, and even though you couldn’t hear a single sound other than the fire alarm, and the air felt thick and heavy, and everything smelt like smoke, you walked to the first window.

You made your way around the apartment, pushing open the windows and making sure that every fan that could be turned on, was on, and as you went, Spencer cursed and huffed, trying to get the damn oven to stop spouting out smoke as he watched JJ’s garlic bread burn, quickly turning into a smouldering heap. Spencer knew he needed to turn the fire alarm off as quick as he could, because when he glanced at you again, he could see you were on the verge of tears, body visibly shaking and hands over your ears as you willed the alarm to go away. He could tell you were panicked, that your mind was reacting through fear and worry and anxiety. And as he stood up, waving the tea towel around again to try and push the smoke out the window and away from the smoke alarm, he made the only decision he knew would help.

“Baby, go wait in our bedroom, okay? You hear me, baby? Go into our bedroom and close the door behind you. I’ll be there when I get this turned off.” He took your hand and squeezed it, signalling for you to do as he was telling you, and when you looked up at him, Spencer instantly recognised that picture of fear you wore. It was chilling, a look of terror that was embedded with so much past fear, a mixture of trauma and horrifying memories that made you react in a way he didn’t expect. You didn’t move to your bedroom like he hoped, didn’t close the door, and move away from the noise, but instead you latched onto him tightly, burying your face in his chest and winding your arms around his torso. Soon he was feeling tears against the fabric of his shirt, and your hands held tightly to the material of his cardigan, not wanting to let go at all.

“Shhh, it’s okay, darling. I’ve got you; everything is going to be okay. The alarm is going to turn off soon, I promise.” You didn’t respond to his words, just held him tighter as he wrapped his spare arm around you and waved the tea towel in the air with the other. After nearly another two minutes of the painful noise, and the two of you standing in the middle of the kitchen tangled in each other, the alarm finally shut off. Spencer let out a relieved sigh, closing his eyes for a moment and relishing in the silence that now filled your home, but at the sound of your sniffles and muffled sobs, he quickly turned his attention to the new problem: you, in tears, and still panic stricken.

He cupped your face in his hands, watching as wet drops still fell down your cheeks and left trails across your features. Spencer frowned, never wanting to see you upset, but he also knew that you were only going to be okay if he comforted you. In a moment, without a word, he was lifting you into his arms and carrying you to the couch in the middle of the living room, knowing exactly what you needed right at that moment, even if you couldn’t voice it. Nestling you in amongst the various cushions and his own body, Spencer pulled you against him, letting your head fall into his lap as you tried desperately to push the panic away, to quell the stirring of your stomach and for your heart to stop pounding.

“I’m sorry, baby. God, we should have gotten that oven fixed weeks ago, I just forgot it was broken and I didn’t even expect the fire alarm to go off. Actually, I think that’s the first time it’s ever gone off while we’ve lived here.” You could tell he was talking to fill the tense silence, using his voice to bring you comfort as he placed a warm wool blanket over you, stroking a hand through your hair. “You know, it’s okay to be scared of loud noises, sweetheart. In fact, some scientists have proven that the fear of loud and sudden noises are quite common in society, because our brains are not used to such loud volumes of sound. Our minds react out of shock, and it looks for the danger because somewhere in the back of our mind, loud noises signal a threat. Your body is following its natural instinct, darling, and that’s a completely natural thing. Now, can you tell me what you need me to do to make you feel better?” You’d stopped crying by then, small sniffles still escaping as Spencer ran a hand over your cheek, waiting for an answer that might not even come. But he sat there, just holding you, knowing you would speak when you were ready.

“We burnt all our food.” The words left your mouth before you could think, and after a moment of surprise, Spencer let out a loud laugh, one that made his chest rumble and had him smiling a soft smile down at you.

“Ah, yes, that is an issue. Well, how about this, my love? I’ll order us some take out of your choice, and then I’ll sit with you and watch your comfort show. How does that sound, baby?” Spencer knew that you had to make the decisions, that he could offer suggestions, but you had to give the go ahead. He knew in this moment you needed as much control over the situation as you could have, so when he gave you options for take out, you nodded your head when he said your choice. It worked like that for the next five minutes or so, with Spencer getting out from underneath you to pick up the television remote and to que up your requested show, to fill up a hot water bottle to put at your feet and to lean over the couch and press kisses to the top of your head, calm and comforting. When he was done setting up the couch for you to be comfortable, he wandered into your shared bedroom, fiddling around in the closet for a couple of minutes before he came back out, dressed in his favourite pair of flannel pyjamas and holding some sleep pants and one of his old jumpers for you to get dressed in.

Without a word, he helped you undress slowly, before gently pulling the sleep pants over your legs and tugging down his jumper, smiling warmly at you when he saw you snuggled up in his clothes, which were far too big for you. But they were warm, soft, and smelt like your boyfriend, so there was no way you were going to complain.

“Thank you.” You uttered the words quietly as he stood back up from his kneeling position, on his way to grab some plates and cutlery for the food that was coming soon. But when he heard you speak, he stopped and turned to face you.

“What on earth for, sweet thing?” Spencer looked at you with a gaze filled with love, adoration and happiness, something that nearly stole your breath as you opened your mouth once again to speak. You took his hand, pulling him closer until you were looking up at him from your position on the couch.

“For looking after me, especially when I can hardly look after myself. Hell, I probably would have just curled up into a ball and wished the fire alarm to turn off, if you weren’t here.” Spencer shakes his head furiously, and without a moment of hesitation, he sits down on the couch next to you and pulls you onto his lap, arms around your waist and making sure that you’re not going to wiggle out of his grasp as he speaks.

“No, sweetheart, no, you don’t need to thank me for that. You never need to thank me for taking care of you.” He sucked in a breath, a hand coming to rest against your cheek as he turned your gaze back to him, wanting to look at you as he spoke. “You, darling, are everything to me, and I hate seeing you in pain like I did only half an hour ago. And I know, you think that you’re pathetic, or humiliating because you freeze up when a loud noise scares you, but you are perfect in every way. Do you know why?” He waits for you to shake your head, and soon his lips are against your hand. “Because, my love, every time you do freeze up and get scared, you figure out a way to get past it. Every time you get stronger, you get better at blocking out the noises. It’s true, sometimes, like tonight, everything is too overwhelming, and that’s okay, because I know that by the time you’re awake in the morning, you’ll be okay again. You’re brave, and strong and even if you do fall down sometimes, I’ll always be there to help you get back on your feet. Just like you’re always there when I have a nightmare or get scared of the dark.” His lips were on the corner of your mouth then, warm air ghosting over the skin of your face as he spoke, and for a moment, you got lost in him.

Lost in the idea that a man such as Spencer Reid could love you so fiercely, so devoutly that he could drop everything to care for you, to run to you when you were in trouble and to do everything in his power to take all your pain away, even if it meant putting himself in harms way. You couldn’t say anything as you just stared at him, emotions bubbling in your stomach until you just swung your arms around his neck and pushed your head into the crook of his shoulder. Whispering a soft “thank you” to the tall man, Spencer just hummed and rubbed your back, letting the both of you relax into each other.

“I love you, Y/N. Please don’t ever forget that.” Pulling away after a couple moments, you pressed your lips gently to his, humming as he sighed against you. The kiss was soft, slow, and filled with so much love and warmth that it made your heart sing and Spencer’s race.

“I won’t, Spencer, I promise you that.”

Sometimes, fear froze people, panic poisoning their veins and fierce anxiety making their hearts pound in a beat of dread. Sometimes, loud noises made you want to cower, hide from the world, and not return until the invisible threat had been destroyed. And sometimes, you wished you could be stronger, could face your fears head on and not crumble to the ground like a child you thought you were. But every time those thoughts started to swallow you whole, Spencer was there to scoop you up into his arms and bring you into a cocoon of safety, warmth, and love that you so desperately desired.

And you knew, while the two of you were bundled up in blankets on the couch, munching down on your favourite take out and quietly enjoying your comfort show, that he would be there for you every time you needed him, without you even asking. He was your lifeline and saving grace, and there was no changing that. Spencer Reid was here to stay.

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#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #will writes

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imagineyourworld · 3 years

Note

Congrats on the 100 followers 👏 can I request number 5 with Commander wolffe please? Maybe a mechanic reader?

Hi,

Thank you <3

Sure thing! If you'd like also check out my Wolffe x Reader fanfiction The Wife, it has (amongst others) the only one bed trope ;)

Love, Charlie

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Wolffe x Genderneutral!Mechanic!Reader

Warnings: Shirtless Wolffe (if that counts a warning), nightmare (no detailed descriptions though)

5. Only One Bed

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You loved your job, you really did, but you hated being covered in grease. Granted, it didn't happen every day, in fact it happened quite rarely, since you always made an effort to be really careful, but today was just one of those days. Your alarm didn't go off in the morning, meaning when you entered the mess hall all you got was cold caf, H9J, the droid that usually assisted you with repairs, had some lose wiring that needed fixing before you could even start work for the day and once had finally finished repairing the first starship and started on the second you were startled by a loud bang, which resulted in you cutting the wrong wire and the engine unloading every milliliter of oil and fuel and grease onto you. "If one more thing goes wrong I'm gonna kill someone", you muttered under your breath while walking through the hallway to get a change of clothes before hopping under the shower. "In that case I don't think you'll like what I have to say." You came to an abrupt halt and turned around to see Wolffe walking up to you. Just seeing him brought the hint of a smile to your face. Wolffe was probably the only person who could always make you smile, which was ironic, since the stoic soldier didn't smile much himself. "Just tell me so I can get out of these clothes." Wolffe looked you up and down, a slight hint of disgust on his face, probably due to the different fluids staining your overalls, but there was also the hint of something else, something you couldn't quite decipher. “The ship needs to be taken in for some sort of internal moderation, so we’ll have to spend the night somewhere else.” You raised an eyebrow at him. Not only because ‘internal moderation’ sounded a bit suspicious, but also because he knew as well as you did that none of you, neither clones nor crew, had someplace else to stay. “The GAR has arranged hotel rooms for all civilians on board”, Wolffe quickly added, probably having recognized your shock and disapproval. You just nodded. “When do we have to leave?” His crooked smile told you everything you needed to know. Apparently this day could get way worse, now you couldn’t even shower in peace. “Alright”, you sighed. “Just give me fives minutes to pack an overnight bag and then we can head out.” You didn’t wait for Wolffe’s reply, sure he’d turn up at your door in five minutes to tell you to hurry up. What you didn’t expect was for him to follow you once you turned around and made your way to your room. “I won’t be going with you, none of the clones are. The hotel rooms are for civilians, not clones”, he clarified. His tone made it very obvious how little he liked the arrangement. “Most of my brothers have already left, the majority lent some camping supplies and the rest are hoping to find someone at the local bars to spend the night with”, he continued. You hesitated for just a moment before voicing your proposal. “In that case I think it would only make sense for you to stay with me. Unless you’d like to go to the bar as well.” You didn’t dare to look at Wolffe and just kept your eyes locked on your door, which had finally come in sight. The idea had been rather spontaneous, mostly because you knew how he despised camping, but in the time it took him to reply you quickly came to regret every single word. “You don’t have to let me stay with you, I’ll be fine”, Wolffe tried to argue. Though this might have been your way out of this awkward situation, you shook your head. You were nothing if not stubborn and since you had proposed it you couldn’t back out now. “Please, you’ve done so much for me, helped me when I first joined the 104th and protected me ever since then, it’s the least I can do to repay you.” When Wolffe finally nodded in agreement you weren’t sure whether to be glad or if this was the final straw on your bad day.

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About twenty minutes, and a deadly silent walk, later you found yourself in front of yet another door, though this one didn’t lead to your room, but rather a hotel room. “Here goes nothing”, you mumbled as the doors opened after you scanned the key card, knowing how little funds the army had and that they wouldn’t waste them on hotel rooms. “This isn’t that bad”, you exclaimed as you made your way into the room. “Look, there’s even a pretty decent view of the city.” Other than you, who now stared out the window, Wolffe focused on the bed. Bed, singular. He should have known, after all the room was only supposed to be for one person. It wasn’t even a large bed, just slightly bigger than the one Wolffe was used to in the barracks. “Maybe this is a bad idea”, Wolffe said, hating how uncertain he suddenly sounded. But who could blame him? He’d have to sleep next to you, with only very little possible space between his body and yours. Just when he thought he was finally getting over his crush interest, this had to happen. “Why would you say tha... Oh... Oh, Wolffe, I didn’t realize”, you said as your eyes followed his and also landed on the small bed. “I’m gonna go”, Wolffe said. He began to turn around when he suddenly felt your hand around his wrist. You both knew that you weren’t strong enough to keep him here if he really wanted to leave, but just this slight touch broke down all of Wolffe’s walls. “C’mon, Wolffe, we’re friends, and more importantly, we’re both adults, I think we’ll manage to sleep in the same bed for one night.” The part of Wolffe that was still thinking straight was telling him to get out of the room as fast as possible, but the irresponsible and honestly down right tired side of him relented. How bad could it be?

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Though you were having second thoughts while brushing your teeth in the small refresher, once you stepped out and saw Wolffe, in only the trousers of his blacks and with hair more unruly than you had ever seen it laying on the bed you thanked the stars for your spontaneous idea. “Do you need to use the refresher again?”, you asked as you sat down on your side of the bed. Wolffe only shook his head, his gaze glued to the window and the city beyond. “Alright then... Good night, I guess”, you said as you pulled the blanket (yes, only one blanket for the two of you to share) up, though you were slightly disappointed at the fact that it now covered more of Wolffe’s toned chest. “Night”, he echoed before reaching over to the bedside table and turning off the small lamp. You didn’t know how it was possible, but in the dark you were somehow even more aware of Wolffe laying only a few centimeters away from you, so close that you could feel his body heat under your shared blanket and smell the shampoo in his hair, which somehow smelled better on him than the other clones, even though they all used the same one. Even though it took you a while to fall asleep, you tried your best not to move, partly because you wanted to avoid accidentally touching Wolffe, which would only result in even more confused feelings, and partly because you knew Wolffe was a light sleeper and didn’t want to risk waking him up. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of laying still in the darkness, you fell asleep. Though only shortly, because next thing you knew you were awake again. Awake and sweaty and shaking. “Shh, it’s alright, everything’s fine. Just focus on me, focus on my voice.” The voice was familiar, as were the hands on your cheek and shoulder, though it took you a moment to place them, still too consumed by the nightmare you had just woken up from. “W...Wollfe?”, you stuttered, hating how shaky and scared your voice sounded. The hands on you grew firmer and you could have sworn that for a split second you felt a pair of soft lips on your sweaty forehead. “I’m here, cyare”, the same voice, definitely Wolffe, whispered in the dark. Though you still couldn’t see him, his familiar voice, touch and smell helped you to return to reality. “Wolffe, I... I’m so sorry”, you choked out, trying your best not to sob. The nightmare was still in your bones, and the embarrassment of having woken Wolffe didn’t help. Instead of the gruff reply you had been expecting Wolffe suddenly pulled you closer. Your chest, clad in only a thin top, was now pressed against Wolffe’s naked one, one of his arms around your shoulder and the other grabbing your hip. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You had a nightmare, we all have those. Hell, mine could probably give yours a run for their money.” You just nodded before moving closer to him so that your nose was buried in the crook of his neck. You might have just had a nightmare, but luckily it had been replaced by this dream, a dream of laying in Wolffe’s arms that you had already had more often than you’d like to admit. Sadly you knew deep down that that dream would never become reality.

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When the light of one of the planet’s suns streaming through your window woke you up the next morning you were somehow still tired. It took you a moment to remember where you were, and even longer who you were with. Your eyes widened in realization when you noticed that you were cuddled up next to Wolffe, your legs intertwined with his and his arm around your waist. Though you had to admit that you were rather fond of this position you knew that it would be terribly awkward once Wolffe woke up. Speak of the devil... “Hey, you feeling better?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes. Surely this had to be another dream, if this were real Wolffe wouldn’t be so relaxed to waking up with you in his arms. You gave him a moment, maybe he was still too sleepy to realize who exactly he was cuddling with. “(Y/N)? You alright?” The way he said your name in his even rougher morning voice, and the fact that he said your name at all, clearly knowing who it was next to him, did things to you you’d rather not analyse, at least not in that moment. Finally it dawned on you that the dream after the nightmare had not been a dream after all, it had all been real. Your nerves slowly began to fade away at the realization, and curiosity took over. “Wolffe, what does cyare mean?” Instead of answering your question he untangled his body from yours and sat up against the headboard. The look in his eyes was something you couldn’t decipher, though it wasn’t altogether unfamiliar. “Buy me a cup of caf and maybe I’ll tell you.” A laugh escaped you, unexpected, but not unwelcome since it seemed to lighten the mood. “How about two cups of caf and you’ll call me that again?”, you tried to bargain with a raised eyebrow and a smile you hoped was something between smug and seductive. In truth, you’d buy him all the caf in the galaxy if it meant he’d say that word again in the same voice he used that night, if he held you again like that even better. “Oh, cyare, I don’t need caf for that, all you had to do was ask.” His tone easily beat your when it came to being smug and seductive, but you didn’t mind at all, not after hearing that word again. Stars, that man, especially early in the morning and without a shirt, would be the death of you.

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I sorta just used this prompt to deal with the terrible nightmare I had last night, so sorry for that, but hopefully you enjoyed it anyway

#wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #wolffe x y/n #wolffe imagine #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x y/n #commander wolffe imagine

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scriptaed · 4 years

Text

bygones of the sun. 09 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok;

length: 5.5k;

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

Moonlight bellows in the background of the warm, golden-lit room—crashing and seceding, crashing and seceding, repeatedly colliding against the jagged rocks by the cliff like tidal waves out at sea in the deep sway of the black night. Under the hypnosis of the jet-black skies absent of the charming twinkling of the stars, you had somehow stumbled through the retreat to your room. You aren’t exactly sure what you had seen—and perhaps, out of consideration for your well-being, you simply don’t want to nor need to comprehend your sightings—but the glutinous image of the broken boy sticks to your chest akin to a dark secret weighing heavy on a sinner’s heart.

And somehow, amidst the long night looming ahead of you, the spur of emotions sweeps you before the door of his room.

Taking a deep breath, you clear your throat and whisper hesitantly next to the wooden frame, “...Hoseok?”

In the red-carpeted hall where dozens of fellow camp attendees rest until the next sunrise, you stand there wondering if Jimin had mistyped the captain’s room number on the emergency flyers. The overwhelming guilt of having pushed Hoseok to his breaking point, albeit unknowingly, had forced the heavy footsteps of yours to this very spot, but now that you’re faced with silence as an answer, you figure perhaps it isn’t in your fate to confront him tonight; it would be the easier way out, at least, for irrationality had bewitched you and plans on what to even say were the last things on your mind… until now.

Subconsciously, your knuckles meet the cold wax finish of his door once again.

One knock, two knocks, and alas, a sigh.

Your hands drop to your sides in defeat, despite regretting your rash decision which had brought you here in the first place. You glimpse around to ensure that the coast was clear, and when the last sigh escapes your lips and the balls of your feet pivot to your left, only then does the door swing wide open.

“What do you want?”

Whirling around, you find Hoseok standing aside where one arm leans against the door frame and the other hides behind the door, clutching the gold handle. As you gaze at him in silence, too taken aback to make your next move, Hoseok stands there, heavy-lidded and jaws clenched, disgruntled by your late night appearance.

The uninviting glare of his elicits the uncomfortable shift in place of your footsteps. It’s a rare moment for goosebumps to rise and chest to constrict when in the presence of someone as playful and flirtatious as Hoseok, but the sudden cold mien of his persona now conveys to you that you’re not welcome here tonight.

“I… I was just…” your eyes dart to the floor as your mind crashes into auto-pilot, searching for any form of excuse other than the truth too unready to be exposed, “I couldn’t fall asleep. So—”

“—you could’ve texted me,” he refutes, brows furrowing, but all your eyes are fixated on are what appears to be beads of sweat dripping from his damp bangs. And when he notices the softening of your wandering eyes, his voice nearly drowns in the waves of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the buzz of the vending machine which shrills in your eardrums to this very second.

From the tee which drapes his upper body and his sweatpants which masks the witnessed scene weighing heavy in your heart, everything about him now would serve as the perfect facade of a normal captain disturbed from his sleep. But at least he's still up, at least he's still trying, at least he answered your call.

You want to believe he’s okay again, that everything you had seen was just a misunderstanding, but something tells you the sun won't be rising again after tonight, and that very thought plagues you of your sleep.

A few seconds pass as you scan him over in a confusing mixture of both disbelief and relief, when Hoseok half scoffs and half chuckles, frowning at your expression, “is something bothering you? You look like you're almost glad to see me for once.”

“...why are you sweating?” you blurt, his words completely missing you as your eyes fixates on the beads of liquid plastered across his temples and trapped in his brows.

“Sweat…?” Hoseok arches a concerned brow before pressing his lips into a thin line. “This isn't sweat… I just got out of the shower. What makes you think that, though?”

Your lips part, but silence ensues when you realize neither you nor him seemed prepared enough to tackle the true reason as to why you're here.

“Nothing… really. It was just the first thing which came to mind.”

Hoseok nods, eyelids weighing heavier and heavier as the conversation comes to an abrupt end. “So…” he drawls, “what do you need?”

“I didn't need anything, per se,” you emphasize, eyes averting to the side and away from his watchful gaze, “I just… wanted to talk. I didn't get to talk to you much today.”

Usually, at a point like this, Hoseok would tease you; “someone's a bit needy today, and I know you're pure and untainted and all, but shouldn't you at least know not to come begging for attention to a guy's room at midnight”—is what he would've said, but tonight, the tidal waves under the wavering moon dictates otherwise.

“Look, Y/N,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans his entire weight against the doorframe, “I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone right now. I want to be alone.”

But does he? Because the gleam in his softened eyes, the windows to his soul, are begging you to accompany him through the long night.

“Are you… okay, Hoseok?” you ask, brows cinching in concern.

He flinches, but his brows immediately lift to mask the initial response. “...yeah,” he finally says after a long pause, taking a deep breath and sighing, eyes never budging from yours, “...I'm fine. Now go sleep if you're done badgering me.”

“Okay… you should sleep, too.”

“Yeah,” he utters under his breath, eyes glued to the ground as he mumbles, “I'll try.”

“Try…?”

“I have a lot of things on my mind and decisions to make tonight,” he explains with a final sigh, the void in his eyes lifting to meet yours once again, and you don't notice until now the purple-blue dark circles which only emphasizes the absence of his usual vigor. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”

And ever so quietly, as if none of the conversation had taken place under the mist of the night perched high up on the mountains, the door closes on you, and the walls between you and Hoseok become thicker than ever.

You can't tell what's on his mind. You can't even tell what's on your own mind. All you can convey is the sheer dejection, the unusual lethargy radiating from Hoseok akin to a captain too prideful to allow his pupils to witness his own cracks and falls.

You're partially responsible for this—no, somehow your mind had convinced you that you're the one completely responsible for this. If you hadn't pushed him to return, maybe things wouldn't have gotten this far. You had reopened a wound like ripping stitches off a gash still in the process of rehabilitation.

And sometimes, wounds of seconds can inflict more pain than its first and leave deeper scars than the past itself.

You're guilty as charged, and you want to fix things now, but the unwelcoming tone of tonight's conversation tells you it might just be too late. If you've acknowledged your mistakes but the other is unwilling to receive your sympathy, what else are you supposed to do?

You had hated the new Hoseok for laying the death of the old, but now that you stand here before his guarded walls and closed door, maybe things would've been better the way they were before.

But that thought finds you as ridiculous, and the very fact that a part of you still wants to aid him in rediscovering your first love at the expense of the person he is now, finds you even more horrendous.

For now, a shower is the only concoction for such a plague.

Water beads drip from the ends of your hair to the cottons of the white towel hanging from your neck. A rush of goosebump inducing air envelops you the second your right foot meets the carpet beyond the bathroom tiles. Besides the remaining drip drops of the water draining in the bathtub behind you, all that is left in the sanctuary of your room is what should have been silence.

Because you can still hear the buzz of the vending machine, the familiar squeaks of sneakers, and worst of all, his wincing breaths endowed with despair still echo in the back of your mind—gradually quickening and crescendoing into a chaos of a symphony without its conductor until everything collapses, the squeaks and the huffs replaced by the ominous buzz of the machine.

As you run through your hair and turn your back on the door to further bury yourself in the depths of your sanctuary, a sudden rise of events interrupts the temporary serenity with the strike of fear into your racing heart.

A series of slurred knocks—two loud, quick knocks followed by one hesitant bump of the knuckles—elicits a ring in your ear as you cautiously turn on the balls of your feet to face the door head on.

The numbers 1:15 A.M. blink in red digital font from the desk beside your bed.

Who could possibly be visiting you at this time of the night?

“Y/N?”

The familiar voice strained with lethargy finally announces after a sigh, and as if reciting words to a spell of witch craft, your heart stills and your body freezes… because did you really just hear Hoseok? Outside your room? The one who had just turned you away without a blink of the eye?

Even with the mess of your mental state after finally digging up the answer you had been searching for all along, the only and greatest fear which plagues you now is the thought of whether the victim, Jung Hoseok, had somehow caught onto you preying upon his darkest of secrets.

After half a minute of silence, Hoseok sighs once again with a groan, “I’m not here to mess around with you if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m on duty for patrolling tonight, and I noticed your light was on. Now open up, would you?”

The walk to your door seems to take you centuries, because the second your hand pushes the handle even an inch down, the door swings wide open to reveal the rather irritated, profusely impatient boy standing on the other side.

“Could you be any slower?” he remarks, eyes peering down at you, unamused. “You’re even slower than me and I worked out more than…”

His white tee shifts underneath his crossed arms as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. The intensity of his eyes with bags and dark circles drooping below elicits a shift in your own body of discomfort. Your own eyes retreat to the ground when his brows cinch and you can tell he’s scanning you over, just seconds away from catching you red-handed.

“...w-what? Can you stop staring at me like that?”

“What? I’m not checking you out or anything if that’s what you’re worried about,” Hoseok scoffs for a fleeting second before silence befalls his lips—and suddenly, the warmth of his hands radiate from your cheeks. A lock of your hair lies in the palms of his long, delicate fingers just barely grazing your cheeks, and it doesn’t take you very long to hastily cover your reddening ears and cheeks with your dampened towel. He frowns, not at your sheepish behavior, but for the wet strands of hair which are all that he fixates on, “did you just work out or something?”

Shouldn't you be the one asking him that? It's as if the irony of his actions is his own method of begging to be exposed without having to come out and ask for it himself.

“No,” you retort, scrunching your face at the absurdity of his suggestion.

Just as you’re about to pull away from his touch, Hoseok retracts his hands from the proximity of your cheeks before what would usually be another one of his mischievous acts; and as much as his sneaky pecks and meaningless affection had once infuriated you, it’s hard to admit how empty you now feel in the absence of its wake. His retreat made of his own will is a first for you.

“Then why are you showering at 1 A.M. in the morning?” he cocks his head with a raised brow.

“Says you—”

“—but at least I have an excuse. I was busy cleaning up after practice,” he retorts and shifts his weight to his other leg, musing, “you, on the other hand…”

“B-Because…” you cross your arms and shoot him the most annoyed glare you could muster; while meeting and comforting him were all that shrouded your mind just a few minutes ago, seeing him in a completely fine state like this is enough to put you to peace and shoo him away for now. “...I slept through the entire day and forgot to shower.”

“...okay,” his lips pressed into a frown gradually bursts into a large grin plastered with second hand embarrassment. “While you kept nagging at me to ‘attend dance camp’ and pick up dancing again, which I so dutifully obliged to tonight, you hide yourself in the corner of your room and sleep the day away?”

“Oh, shut up. It's not like I'm an actual dancer like you—” you roll your eyes before stopping mid-sentence; was that too insensitive of you to say considering the struggles Hoseok seemed to be going through? Clearing your throat, you lift your head high and sigh, “so what’re you doing here? I thought you were busy thinking the night away.”

“Like I said, I'm on patrol tonight. Are you even listening to me or are you to busy fantasizing about all the things we could've been doing in my room right now?” he teases and gently knocks his knuckles on your head.

His entire demeanor had reverted to his usual self, and as concerning as it is to wonder whether this is all an act too painful to witness yourself, you're glad to see him joking around again, even if it's forced.

“No, that's the last thing on my mind, but I guess it's not the same case for someone here,” you roll your eyes.

In retaliation to your indifferent attitude, Hoseok leans against the doorframe with a scoff, pulling you back in as you pushed him out. “Like I said, Ms. I Like To Break Rules Because I’m Dating the Captain, you’re supposed to be asleep by now.”

“I’ll turn off my lights after I blow dry my hair, Mr. Ex Dance Captain—” you bite your tongue when you notice the twitch in his darkened eyes and hardened jaw “—I mean, I'm not dating you.”

At this point, you’re not even sure how to address his relationship with dance, if you should even do so at all.

“So, if you’ll excuse me,” you continue, giving him one last pressed smile and stepping back to close the door; but before you could do so, Hoseok swiftly juts a foot out to interevene, and a simple question ensues.

“What? You don’t want me here?”

All efforts to protest dissipate when he turns his head to face you and lets out a scoff in disbelief, eyes completely empty, and you nearly have to lean in to catch his next words.

“You’re always so cold to me,” he lets out a soft laugh and cracks the most reluctant of grins. “Why do I even bother being disappointed at this point?”

A few seconds of tense silence goes by before it occurs to you what he had just said.

For once, he actually cares about what you say? He’s taking your meaningless banters to heart?

“I’m turning off my lights now,” you frown at him, but his attention remains elsewhere, “isn’t that what you came here to do?”

“You really...” he scoffs and lifts his head, eyes piercing yours and opening the window to his souls; shaky, colorless, lost and infuriated by the calamity of the world before him, in the world you present him. “...do you really think I came here just for that? I could care less what time you sleep.”

“O-Okay…” you stutter; you know there isn’t anything to be hurt over, because what he’s saying has made you believe is of the utmost truth, but the unusually blunt implications of his disingenuity comes on all too harsh.

His constant switch in demeanor is all too confusing to keep up with tonight, and quite frankly, you don't know how to read him anymore, as if you ever could.

His lips part, words of apology ready to be uttered, and his eyes soften in worry for a swift second, but when the clock ticks twice, his jaw hardens the invisible wall built between the two of you.

And for the first time in a while, he’s actually acting like the infamous reputation he had been endowed; because he doesn’t apologize, and now your guts begin to twist and turn, wondering whether you had done something wrong.

Was he in a bad mood because of what you had seen just half an hour before? Should you confront him about it? Should you comfort him? Would words of encouragement even help? Is that what he’s asking for?

Is that the true reason as to why he’s here? Is he… asking for help?

“I’m here to check up on your ankle.”

His mumbling interrupts the internal war fared between two hidden motivations; defeat is all that reigns in the realm of tonight—you, unable to decipher his code, and him, unable to send you such codes.

The mention of your momentarily forgotten injury brings a crease between your brows, “my ankles are fine.”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is for me, your highness,” he refutes with a pressed, unamused smile.

“But it really is fine—” you stop mid-sentence when you notice Hoseok taking a deep breath, chest struggling to rise while constricting the impatience and whatever else remains buried from within.

Please let me in, his eyes scream.

Your feet stumbles as they shuffle backwards, and in response, he takes one swift, large stride forward. The door shuts behind him, and suddenly, the room seems significantly more lackluster than before.

“What if someone sees us?” your fear translates into words.

“Should’ve worried about that earlier, don’t you think?” he flatly remarks, cocking his head to the side.

“...but,” you frown and shake your head, “what if they spread rumors about you entering my room?”

He snorts and rolls his eyes before returning the look of impertinence to you, “haven’t they already spread rumors about us? We literally made out at the pool last night. And who cares what they say? I’m tired of giving a shit about them. All it does is burden you.”

“Burden…” your mind subconsciously slips the words into formation when your eyes naturally trail from his gray sweatpants and up to his white tee where beads of water drip from his drenched bangs. “...hey, Hoseok, why haven't you dried your hair yet?”

He couldn't have possibly went out to practice again, could he?

“My hair…?” his brows cinch as his hands find their way to twirl the wet locks in between his fingers and his eyes light up before settling into a frown once again. “Ah… but first, why are you so concerned for me tonight?”

“Maybe because I was kind enough to let you in my room and that's the least you could do…?”

“But I’m the captain. I’m the one in charge,” he quickly quips. You can see the tip of his tongue running across the inner walls of his mouth from the protrusion of his cheeks and his hardened jaw, as if preparing for a fight. “So, technically, I do have the rights to be here, because you broke the rules. If you don’t want to see me, maybe you should turn off your lights next time.”

His sudden defense rubs you the wrong way when you scoff, “captain? Huh, funny, because I seem to recall a certain someone getting all pissed off at me because I begged them to come here in the first place.”

“What?” he asks in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at you.

“It’s really not that big of a deal. Why are you being so aggravated today? Are you scared to tell me the truth? That you’re playing around and checking in on me to pretend and act like you’ve been up hard at work all day? So you can continue playing around with me without having to hear me nag at you?”

You just want him to be honest with himself, and more so with you, and maybe you aren’t approaching it the right way, but you simply don’t understand how to fix the dent in Hoseok’s enclosed heart.

“What?” he repeats, the fury in his boiling blood exuding from his step forward and your step back. “I’m doing my job here, aren’t I? I’m guiding us through the camp, I’m teaching you guys how to dance, I’m even out here past midnight patrolling as a captain should! So how am I anything but a captain?”

Buzz, sneakers, collision, and buzz—the entire sequence washes onto shore once again from the back of your mind, blaring at you as if to tell you to back down.

He continues to take steps forward, forcing you to retreat backwards into the depths of your room.

“I didn't mean it like that…” you mumble, taking another step back until your heels hit the drawer and the back of your head bumps into the TV behind you.

Hoseok steps one intimidating stride forward, arms gripping at the drawer on either side of you and entrapping you in his field of control. He gives you one long, hard stare, and as uncomfortable as it is, something tells you there would be serious repercussions if you looked away.

“No, but it sure does feel like it and it confuses me,” he retorts lowly, “so tell me, Y/N, why are you so concerned for me all of a sudden?”

His watchful eyes and parted lips pray for the hopes that you had seen him, that he had finally found someone who knew the true him, but you don't want to and you can't possibly reopen his wound. You know it would hurt him all too much.

So you keep silent, just as he has all along

“...you’ll wake them if you yell any louder,” you mumble, looking off to the side in dejection.

But his warm hands cup the cold surface of your chin damp from your shower, turning you until your gaze has returned to meet his.

“Stop making excuses. You know they can't hear us,” he lowly utters. “What did you even think I was doing anyways?”

“I-I don't know. I was just asking what you’ve been doing. It’s not that hard of a question,” you mumble. “You can lie to me, even, if you want.”

“No,” he shakes his head, keeping his fingertips grazing against your chin. “I want to hear your guesses.”

You gulp, diverting from his piercing gaze, “I don't know…”

“You seemed to have a pretty good guess just a minute ago,” he narrows his eyes at you. “Just say it. I dare you to.”

I dare you to say it, but I doubt you can, because I doubt you even know, his leer screams.

“...maybe you had a girl over in your room or something…”

You know that's not the case, or at least you hope, but that's the most believable guess you could muster other than outright accusing him of his late night practices sessions.

“You think that I'd let another girl other than you into my room? Who do you take me for?” he scoffs, even chuckles. “Ah, you're too cute.”

He doesn't mean it, you tell yourself, you can't believe him and you can't fall for this specific trick because you know that's exactly what he wants to distract you from the pain hidden beneath that flirtatious crooked smile of his.

You frown, “quit playing and let me go...”

“Just one more question,” he laughs for a brief second, silence failing for a tense minute before finally asking in the lowest of voices, “can I kiss you?”

“W-What?”

“I mean, last time I was so congested and upset with these dark thoughts of mine that I forgot to even ask you for permission before I forced myself on you. Two elements of a great kiss are consent and surprise, remember? I think I got the surprise part down judging by the look on your face,” he smirks, but all you can do is stare at him in silence.

It's not like you're opposed to the idea of kissing him, per se, but you're against sharing such an intimate moment when you know he would just be using you like alcohol as a way to temporarily numb the pain.

But should you go ahead and let him? If something as trifling as this could even relieve him of the pain, should you give him what he wants?

“Are you… lonely? Are you upset over something? Can't I help you?”

Several seconds of silence passes by until you hear him chortle with a sigh, his arms dripping from your sides and releasing you from his grasp as he brushes by your shoulder and heads toward your bed. “I was just joking around with you. Don't look at me like that, it hurts me too, you know? I didn’t come here to argue anyways, ” he remarks, lightening up the mood. “I just forgot to dry my hair, that’s all. Do you have any snacks in your fridge?”

Nonchalantly, Hoseok plops onto your mattress without further permission, but all you could notice is the slight limping in his walk; if anyone else had watched his strides, including you from the past, no one would have suspected a thing, but now that you’ve discovered his secret, the uneven footsteps of his are all too glaring.

With his head against his hand propped by an elbow against one of your two pillows, Hoseok grins at you with an arched brow and a hand tapping on the sweatpants concealing the swelling of his leg.

“...no,” you finally answer, walking a few steps forward into the room to lean against the corner wall next to the lower side of your bed. You cross your arms and continue, “why would I bring food for a three night trip?”

“Ah, I forgot this is only for three nights. I see,” he nods, pursing his lips and turning to lie on his back with his head nestled into your pillow. The fingers of one of his hands drum against his stomach as the other props above his shoulders and under his neck.

The buzzing of your empty fridge stimulates you to memories you don’t want to revisit, but the overwhelming silence seems to be the motif of tonight and you just don’t know how to fix it; yet the longer he stares emptily into the ceiling above, the more curious you become.

“Hoseok?”

“Hm?” he hums without budging his eyes from the ceiling.

“What’re you thinking about?”

A few seconds pass by before he takes a deep breath and sighs loudly, his chest noticeably rising and sinking underneath his water-drenched tee.

“Truthfully, I actually came here after you left because I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone tonight. I was wrong to shut you out,” he confesses; but when you’re left staring at him in utter, shock, Hoseok finally breaks his gaze from the ceiling to meet your gaping expression with a chuckle. “It’s a joke, Y/N. I’m a lonely person, just like you said, remember?”

“Being lonely isn’t a joke…” you grumble, uncrossing your arms and walking over to gently seat yourself beside him in bed.

You’re expecting some teasing remark for supposedly joining him in bed, but what you don’t expect is what slips from his lips instead.

“Have you ever wanted something so bad that it’s all you come to know, but the second you get it, it turns out to be the only thing you can’t have? It just… it doesn’t love you back. I’m the only one trying at this point.”

“Like what…?” you hesitantly ask.

“Like you,” he swiftly answers, turning his head to shoot you a lopsided grin.

Everything comes crashing down into a full circle once it finally clicked for you: dance; dance is the unrequited love for Hoseok, and you were just one of the many replacements to allow him to forget what he had lost.

The thought irks you the wrong way, and as much as you want to console him, the teasing relationship you two have established does not exactly authorize for such a moment.

“But you never got me in the first place,” you snort.

Hoseok blinks blankly at your words before scoffing in disbelief, turning his head and smirking with the shake of his head, “go dry your hair before you get sick, you cold-hearted woman.”

“No, I can’t leave you unattended in my bed!”

“I won’t stay here overnight, alright,” Hoseok rolls his eyes while cracking a smile. “So stop worrying and go or you’ll get a cold.”

“Psh, fine,” you huff, getting up from your bed; but before you could depart to the bathroom, Hoseok’s hands grip onto your hands only to pull you back into bed beside him. You sigh, turning your back to glare at the blank look on his face, “do you want me to stay or not?”

“Y/N,” he ignores you and proceeds with his question, looking you straight in the eye, “what would you do if I said I still wanted to quit dance? If I said this entire trip only reminded me of why I hated it so much in the first place? What would you do?”

Your eyes grow wide; he’s practically asking you upfront about his inner true conundrums, and this time, you’re going to make things right again.

“I would support you no matter what. If dancing isn’t what you want, then I’m fine with it,” you answer. “I kissed you so you would come to camp. That’s all I bargained for, and that’s all I’m asking for.”

Hoseok stares at you for several seconds in silence before scoffing and tossing your hand to the side, “I came here for an answer, but now you’re just confusing me.”

“What?”

“Go dry your hair already. Your hands are cold,” he states, turning his head away from you. “I won’t be able to kiss you anymore if you get sick.”

Glaring at him from his back, you oblige to his demands and retreat to the safety of your washroom. While drying your hair, you spend all your time scrambling for something to say, to fill in the conversation, to keep you from the pounding white noise of sneakers and buzz, but most importantly, to keep him from the ill reminder of his downfall.

Yet, all is in vain, when you return to your room to find him asleep.

Sighing, you tiptoe your way to lie down in the bed right beside him. With your head cupped in your hands propped on the mattress by your elbow, you lean just a bit forward to catch a glimpse of his dozing expression. Only in his slumber is he relinquished of all worries. The crease between his brows has vanished, and the frown he had constantly worn in the corner of his lips had dissipated along with it. Finally, he is at peace and solace.

“You see, Hoseok, the thing about life is that it constantly challenges us to new obstacles… kind of like what you’re doing to me right now,” you chuckle to yourself and brush the fallen streaks of hair off his forehead and to his temples, “but you’re strong enough to overcome it, and as long as you have someone beside you the entire time, everything will turn out just right. You are loved, you just don’t know it.”

And with that, you lean in to place a chaste kiss on his forehead.

It’s the first time he ever failed to smirk after a kiss shared between the two of you.

With the official set of the sun ironically at the rise of dawn, an epiphany strikes you at 2 AM in the depths of your room where Hoseok lies asleep beside you.

Some secrets are meant to be kept hidden, some wounds are never meant to be revived; and so, instead of hurting and turning him away, you’ve agreed to be his sanctuary for just tonight.

Jimin [2:23 A.M.] Hoseok? No... he’s not supposed to be on patrol. I am.

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Burning The Midnight Oil (Javier Peña x gn!Reader)

Summary: Javier has been burning the candle at both ends. He just needs some rest. Luckily, you’ve got your husband covered.

W/C: 3.4K

Warnings: oh boy um. language, non sexual nudity, brief sexual jokes/innuendo, lots of talk of sleep deprivation bc that’s a plot point here, brief mentions of alcohol and guns (maybe once each), mostly talk of food/eating, eating meat/pork (Javier does, not reader) otherwise I’d say it’s fluffy for the most part

A/N: ☄️ anon, god bless your soul for this idea!! I really love it so I banged it out in one night and here we are!!

You haven’t seen your husband in days. You know he’s exhausted, only ever showing up at home when you’re off at work. It’s a terrible situation, the only contact you’ve had with him being at odd hours over the phone.

The DEA has been all hands on deck this week, requiring their men to be there at all times unless they’re at home and sleeping; even then, they only get about six hours off at a time, many of them too wired to sleep. Javier only gets to come home every other day, usually during the middle of the day. He’s been staying up for a dangerous amount of time, in your opinion, leaving you just about ready to find the heads of the cartel and beat their asses yourself.

During the work week, you can’t complain. You have no right to. You knew when you and Javier had eloped and married that the man’s job was a baggage you’d be forced to carry as a couple. You normally didn’t mind, but when it goes into the weekend, that’s when you get mad. Not just that you don’t get your husband at home with you, but that he doesn’t get to be home. He deserves it. Javier hardly relaxes during the weekends, and essentially does not relax on weeknights until he’s fallen asleep with his head on your chest.

Saturday found you running errands, expecting Javier home by midday at the very latest. Returning home with a pep in your step and finding no Javier there, your mood and smile fell instantly. It’s Saturday; your husband should be home. They should be letting them go home, you thought angrily as you took your anger out by chopping the vegetables to go into your dinner. Surely Javier will be home by dinnertime.

Nothing. 6 P.M., 7 P.M., no Javier, just a dinner growing cold and your heart sinking. You knew Javier had got his break yesterday, and had been in the apartment while you worked, but a slightly rumpled bed was the only evidence he was even there.

At 8, you walk to the phone and dial the DEA office, specifically Javier’s extension.

Your husband picks up and his voice wrecks your heart. “Peña,” he mumbles, his voice crackly. It sounds like his morning grumble after a long night of sleep next to you.

“Javi,” you coo, heart breaking. “Baby, when are you coming home?”

Javier perches on the edge of his desk, phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder. “Fuck, cariño, I don’t know,” he admits, rubbing his face. “I just woke up, I got an hour nap in the break room office. We have to keep going. We’re so close, I can tell.”

You understand his desperation, but you know exactly what he looks like now, a stubble growing thanks to his time away from home, his eyes bloodshot and drooping. His hair is probably messy and his shirt is probably all wrinkly; you’re absolutely certain he’s holding a mug of the sludgy black coffee the office brews. He’s most definitely the picture of exhaustion, and even though you can’t see him, you know your husband. He is a wreck. “I can let Saturday slide, but you’re coming home tomorrow, I don’t care how long. I need to see you and you need to be taken care of.” “I’m doing just fine,” Javier shakes his head and you can hear a flick of a lighter as he’s most likely lighting a cigarette.

“You’re not, and don’t try to pull that card with me. I know you. You’re a disaster; I can tell from your voice. You haven’t eaten and you haven’t slept and you can’t deny it. I want you home as soon as you can tomorrow, you got it? Don’t you even fucking dare try it, Javier Fernando Peña.”

The full name: ouch. He sighs and exhales the cigarette smoke, then takes a sip of his coffee before answering you. “God, I fucking love you,” he chuckles softly. “Okay.”

Another sign of Javier’s exhaustion: how easily he gives in. Javier is a stubborn man, but over your years together he’s learned that you’re just as hard to budge. When both of you are set, neither of you can be moved. Your sarcasm and wit and willpower was what drew him to you in the first place; Javier could never have a compliant, submitting partner. He’d be a mess. He needs you to ground him, he knew and still knows it. It’s why you’re married now.

“I love you too, handsome. Call me before you come home, okay baby? I want to be awake for you,” you say, a soft smile on your face. Your voice is much warmer, less jagged and rough.

It’s the way you always get Javi, the thing that makes him melt the most: when you’re snapping one second and gentle the next. God, he fucking loves you. You understand him, you don’t question him when he comes home and doesn’t speak. You read him and then you hold him, and all of his fears dissipate with his calming breath. “Okay. I love you,” he repeats again, more earnest and purposeful. He wants you to know it; he worries you haven’t felt it in the past week. It’s also another sign of his exhaustion.

“I love you too, Javi,” you remind him as you chuckle and stand. “Don’t fall asleep on the job. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Javier groans and cracks his neck after hanging up, sliding the typewriter back to the beginning. Just a little longer, he tells himself, then he gets to come home to you.

The phone rings around 5 in the morning, waking you from a restless slumber. The sun is just starting to rise, making the sky lighter and colorful from its previous midnight blue. Knowing Javier would be calling, it was impossible for you to sleep fully, leaving you in a dozing state more similar to a daydream than to any form of REM.

“Hello?” You answer with a groggy voice, hoping it’s Javier. Who else could it be, at this hour on a Sunday morning?

“Hey, dulzura,” Javier sighs into the phone. “I’m packing up my shit now. We didn’t get Escobar, but we got one of his big guys late last night. They’re bringing in some Search Bloc guys and giving us tomorrow off.”

You nearly cry in relief at his words, making a noise between a sigh and a squeal, heavy and happy. Javier laughs softly at your noise of relief, allowing himself to smile. His vision is hazy from the lack of sleep, but he’ll be cognizant enough after this last cup of coffee kicks in. “Get your ass home, Javi,” you tell him with a voice just as sleepy as his own. “You got an ETA for me?”

There’s a moment of silence as he looks at his watch. “5:45.”

Your eyes haven’t even opened yet, and you finally let them as you look at the clock. That’s soon, really soon, and it makes your heart speed up a little as your body forces you awake. “Great. I’ll see you then. Drive safe. If you’re too tired-”

“Steve will not be driving,” he cuts you off with a grumble. It makes you giggle a little, his adamance that Steve could never possibly do something better than him, more competently.

“Just reminding you. I’ll see you,” you tell him and hang up before he can make another sarcastic comment.

He’s glad you hang up so fast. He doesn’t have the brain power for a classic witty retort.

Javier goes to unlock the apartment door about half an hour later, but finds that his keys aren’t necessary: you’ve left the door unlocked for him.

He’d be ashamed to admit it to anyone but you, but it really does happen: Javier’s eyes water as he walks inside to the smell of cooking, the stream of soft light through the kitchen window, the sound of soft Sunday morning music drifting from the radio.

You’re at the oven, cooking, and turn when you hear a noise, grinning to see Javier. “Hey, handsome,” you squeal and rush over, wrapping your arms around him.

Javier buries his face in your hair, throwing his arms back around you. You smell fresh and clean, so soft in the fluffy robe he bought you for your birthday a few months ago now. You’re surprised to feel warm water drip from his eyes to your neck, and you pull away with a frown, cupping his face. “Are you okay, love?” You ask, wiping the tears from his eyes.

He nods. “So tired,” he admits and swallows hard. “So glad I’m home. So lucky I have you.”

You have a feeling he doesn’t have the energy to kiss you. Instead, you press your forehead to his and squeeze him tight in your arms. “Okay. I cooked breakfast. You need it. Why don’t you go take a shower?” You ask, breaking away and rubbing his arms.

He shakes his head. “My arms feel like lead. I don’t know if I can even wash my hair,” he admits, his voice a low rumble from his chest. “Just let me sleep, baby.”

“I’ll come with you, then,” you offer, already unbuttoning his shirt and working it off of him purely for comfort. You know your way around your husband’s body by now. You could unbutton his shirts blind; in fact, you have. “Come on, cariño,” you murmur and pull him along to the bathroom by the side of an unbuttoned shirt.

Once in the bathroom, Javier blinks and squints at the bright vanity lights, overwhelmed. You turn on the shower, the bathroom filling with warmth as the water heats and steam fills the air. Even in his tired state, Javier loves to undress you. He tugs the belt from your fuzzy robe, sliding it off your shoulders and tossing it on the counter. You then strip off your respective clothes, and you’re the first to step into the stream of the warm water.

Javi doesn’t have to say anything; you can tell his thoughts from your gaze. His eyes rake your body, taking in the sight of his most beloved person on the planet in all of your naked glory. He climbs in after you, and you grab a bar of soap and get to scrubbing, covering all of Javier’s body with the cucumber-scented suds. He leans his head back against the shower wall, loving your warm hands and the hot water. If he wasn’t standing, if his back wasn’t aching so hard, he’d fall asleep here and now. He’s never been more blissful.

You rinse his body then work his shampoo into his thick hair, your fingers scratching his scalp and massaging his head. “You’re the fucking best,” Javi mumbles sleepily. You just chuckle and work the soap into his hair, stripping it of the grime and cigarette smoke of the office, until he’s wiped clean, ready to start anew.

Later, you wash yourself and let Javier enjoy the hot stream of the water. He’s so zoned out you can’t even tell if he’s awake. You have to actually check. “Javi, baby?”

“Hm?” He mumbles

“Did you fall asleep on me?” You chuckle as you turn off the shower, which makes Javier frown at the loss of warmth.

“‘Course not,” he grumbles, taking the fluffy towel from you and wiping his face.

After the two of you have dressed in fresh clothes, you sit on the edge of your bed and wait for Javier to finish. He pulls a worn t-shirt over his head, then comes and sits next to you, kissing the side of your head. “You’re so good to me,” he mumbles into your temple.

He goes to flop back but you put an arm around him, catching him. “Excuse me, Agent. I made breakfast,” you chuckle and sneak a kiss from his lips, chuckling at the way his mustache is still a little damp. “When was the last time you ate?”

Javier stares off as he considers it. It takes a while for him to respond. You nod at that. “Exactly. Come on, I made breakfast just the way you like it.”

The food is still somewhat warm when you find your way to the kitchen. Javier loves the local cuisine, always has, but something about an American breakfast makes him weak at the knees. He sits at the kitchen counter and sighs as you hand him a plate of buttered toast. “There’s your appetizer,” you chuckle and head back to the stove. Half-cooked bacon, which you turned off when he came in, sits in a pan, and you turn it back on to finish. You crack a couple of eggs into another pan, making sure they sit just right so they’re the way Javi likes them: fried. You sprinkle them with salt and pepper, humming to the radio as you cook.

The sizzling bacon makes Javier’s stomach grumble. The toast isn’t even that warm anymore, but the carby goodness fills Javi’s mouth and suddenly he’s never felt so ravenous. The two pieces of buttered toast are devoured in a heartbeat.

Bringing him a mug, you pour some coffee and his favorite creamer in. “You’d better tip me later,” you tease him with a wink as you return to the stove, flipping the bacon and putting some onto a plate.

“I will tip you anything you want, I swear,” he murmurs before sipping at the ceramic mug, the warm coffee going down like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, warming him from the inside out. The A/C blasts in the apartment, making his dripping hair feel even colder.

In yet another pan, you start pouring the premade pancake mix you’d prepared before he got home. “All of this and the sun is barely up,” He muses, wandering to the other side of the counter and stealing a strip of bacon.

“Quit,” you whine and smack his hand, making the bacon fall back onto the plate. “Your order isn’t ready yet, sir. Stop harassing the cook.” When his arms wrap around you, your defenses fall. “Go sit down,” you say weakly as he kisses your neck.

At least he obeys. Javier sits in his chair and watches you intently, downing his coffee in a short amount of time.

Finally, the feast all comes together, and you present it to Javier on a large plate: bacon, fried eggs, fruit (which you know he won’t eat, but it’s worth a shot), and heart-shaped pancakes. “I wanted to make a pistol, but I’m not super artistic,” you chuckle as you refer to the fluffy cakes on the plate.

Javier shakes his head but smiles. “Thank you, dulzura,” he manages out before he digs in, devouring the plate at a breakneck speed. You’re content to watch, standing across from him. You go to refill his coffee and come back to find the pancakes completely gone.

It doesn’t take much time at all before the plate is wiped clean, the entire thing in Javier’s stomach. Food has never been the biggest concern for him; he skips meals often for work, and you suspect he hasn’t done much more than snack here or there over the past week. His eyes droop even further now that he has a full stomach, and it warms your heart. You’ve got your husband cleaned and fed; now all you need is one last step before you have your beloved Javi back.

“Alright, handsome,” you smile as you drape your arms across his shoulders. “Nap time.”

He can’t deny that. He stands, letting your arms fall off his shoulders. He pulls you around to his front and wraps his arms around you; you know what comes next in this routine. Your feet slide on top of his and Javier walks the two of you to the bedroom, you backwards and being led by him. Javier is not an overly affectionate man: kisses and sex, primarily, hugs if one of you really needs it. This is his one little act he insists on, since you don’t let him carry you.

As you waddle along, you kiss along Javier’s jaw, giving him all of the affection he missed out on in the past week. When you finally enter your bedroom, you stop as you feel the backs of your calves against the bed. You know this routine all too well. It’s usually reserved for when Javier can’t get his hands off of you, when you desperately need him on top of you, surrounding you, kissing your neck. “Wait,” you murmur and step off of his feet, going to pull back the covers.

You return to the end of the bed, standing on top of his feet again. “There,” you say with a grin, and Javi has no choice but to grin back then kiss you. “Okay, continue.”

Then your routine resumes: you fall backwards onto the bed and Javier falls on top of you. You both grunt with the impact but you smile, wrapping one arm around Javi while the other grabs the sheets and blankets and pulls them over the both of you.

Javi’s cheek is nestled against your chest, listening to your heartbeat, his eyes already shut. “Real cute. Get off of me now,” you tease and nudge his side.

His body beneath yours is all he’s needed, all he’s dreamt about while half-consciously dreaming on the apartment couch. He can feel your chest rise and fall, his head going with it. “No,” he simply mutters, his face squished against the skin encasing your beating heart. “M’comftrble.”

You can’t deny him that, you chuckle, your hands reaching down to entangle your fingers in his dark brown hair, nearly black from the dampness it holds. “Fine,” you sigh, whispering the word to him. “I love you so much, Javi. Missed you. Missed my man.”

“Missed you too, dulzura,” Javi mumbles back, but it’s clear he’s almost already out.

“How long were you up, minus that nap, Javi?” You ask.

He thinks on it for a minute, and you think he might’ve fallen asleep until he responds. “36.”

“Hours?” you exclaim quietly, massaging his scalp. “Baby.”

“I know. Had’ta.”

“Well, you can sleep as long as you need to now, love,” you murmur and kiss his forehead. He makes a soft noise of disapproval. “Just a nap. Wake me in like an hour.”

“Okay,” you lie, knowing you’ll let him sleep as long as his body needs it. “Rest now, baby.”

Javier nods and you exhale deeply, holding his head to your chest. He’s back now, your husband, and you know he’s safe, know he’s healthy and well taken-care of: you did it yourself. His breathing slows. You can feel it against your chest, the way the steady rise and fall becomes slower and slower and you know you’ve won when you hear a soft snore, his parted lips smashed against your chest.

You stay like that for a while, Javier lying on top of you and resting. It’s a comfort to have him pressed against you, to feel your husband’s body and know that he’s here. It’s even better to know he’s resting well, deeply, from the way he slumbers against your body. You intermittently kiss his head, continuing to rub his head in hopes it’ll loosen the tension he’ll surely have when he wakes.

About an hour passes, and you find yourself drowsier and drowsier as the sun rises higher and higher in the sky. Scooting out from beneath Javier, you replace your chest with a pillow to support his face. Rolling him slightly to the side, you cuddle in behind him and spoon him, your arms around him.

The quiet Sunday morning is all too perfect. You drift off too, then wake up an hour or two later and proceed about your household chores. You burn some pretty candles, clean, listen to the radio.

Javier doesn’t wake until 10 P.M. that night, 15 hours after he fell asleep.

Some nap.

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p-antomime · 3 years

Text

dawn addiction.

— minors don't interact.

— wc: 3,3K

content + warnings: 18+, including: car sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, public sex (kinda of), unprotected sex, tummy bulge, pet names (dabi actually calls the reader "princess"), virginity loss (only mentioned), i bit of fluff bye

pairings: no quirk!dabi x fem!reader

— song: Press Your Number; by TAEMIN

After waking up alone one dark night without you sleeping next to him in the spacious bed placed in the middle of his room, Dabi catches himself thinking about you and feeling strange without having your warm body next to his in the bed. Thinking about Y/N was becoming a vicious habit for him and it was the kind of addiction that the more he fed, the more it seemed to swallow his sanity. However, he didn't blame you for not wanting to be seen or related to him, in a small town like the two of you Touya was the delinquent that people avoided interacting with lest they be excluded from that closed society.

He stretches to the side in order to get his own phone from the small table placed on the side of his bed and finds himself standing there for a few seconds feeling the smell of your body that permeated the pillow next to him. After taking a deep inhale, Dabi unlocks his cell phone to try to call you, but there is no answer, after all, it was past 1:00 AM in the dawn and Y/N was now probably lying in her own bed in her house trying to sleep.

The dark haired man lets out an impatient grunt before dropping the cell phone on the bed. He was deeply rooted in you and, because of that, feeling like an insane madman who was insisting on something that couldn't be his. But what could he do but fall in love with you after kissing your lips countless times and spreading your legs dangerously wide for him before claiming your virginity as his?

And the end of that night, just like all the others where you would finish fucking and you would shamefully put on your clothes to go home, would be filled by him masturbating with the thought of your naked body running through his mind.

Touya could feel the warm temperature of yours with little mental effort with his own fingers and would cling to the fading memories of the few non-sexual moments you had shared over the past few months.

That night, Dabi slept when the sun was already up, but Y/N, on the other hand, didn't even sleep a wink. She couldn't even take a lousy nap, because her eyes were glued to her cell phone screen waiting to see if he would call her again because on the first call of the night she wasn't brave enough to answer knowing that her parents were half a wall away. A coward? Yes, that's what she was. But there was a perfect daughter demeanor that she needed to maintain, especially if she wanted to continue to nurture her father's idea of letting her start studying at a university in the metropolitan area of the country.

Y/N would turn twenty a week from today — and if her father's promise to give you a car came true, her plan was already halfway done — and she didn't want to be stuck in that small, rural town forever. She had big dreams, and, ironically, in most of them the fulminating image of Dabi was present beside her. What if she was the only one there who wanted to leave that life? What if he didn't want to leave with her? But more importantly, at what point had their relationship become so deep?

It was now 7 o'clock in the morning, which meant that in about two hours your parents would wake up to go to work. You took a deep breath and reached out to grab the cell phone lying next to you on the bed, and then began to type a message as brief and vague as possible to your lover:

"Pack up all your stuff by next Friday. Take everything that you think is important or of value to you, pack it up, and meet me on the other side of the bridge that leads to the avenue out of town, the side that has the rusty 'Welcome to our town' sign. At two o'clock in the morning. No delays. And please try not to draw too much attention, wear the most decent, neutral clothes you have in your closet. Oh, and bring documents."

And all week long you could barely look your parents in the face without feeling guilty for wanting to break free from their protective arms, but you just couldn't take it anymore. You hated that small town, and you also hated being forced to go to church every Thursday and Sunday with your mother because she said that God would "bless you with all your dreams come true," so why didn't he just indirectly help you leave that town behind? Literally, the only thing holding you back in that town was Touya and you wanted to take him with you outside the boundaries of that town that looked more like a village forgotten by the rest of the world.

Y/N's favorite place to be was Dabi's lips, and even then, the girl's replies to him by messages and short calls that didn't last more than 5 minutes started to decrease drastically. The useless monologues continue to increase inside her mind. Until the Thursday before her birthday when Y/N was about to fall asleep after standing for almost 2 hours listening to the local church mass hoping that her mother would not notice her slouching and irritable posture, suddenly a sound of something banging against her bedroom window was heard. And initially she didn't bother to get up to find out what had caused the noise, until she heard it twice more and frowned as she got out of bed after seeing that it was almost two o'clock in the dawn.

You drew the curtains in front of the window, opened it and stuck your head out, looking down and suddenly feeling your cheeks heat up violently. And there was Touya looking at you with a look of sorrow and animosity. He pointed in the direction of the hidden backyard behind your house where the two of you in the beginning of your relationship used to hide just to spend some time together or have a make-out session that ended up leaving both of you sexually frustrated because neither of you had the courage to have sex in that place where anyone could see you if you made too much noise. However, Dabi was the devil in your life worth sinning for.

— What the fuck are you doing here? — Y/N asked almost desperately as she felt Touya wrap one of his arms around her waist to glue their bodies together.

— What? Can't a man miss his beloved and want to go see her? — He asked, holding her face with his free hand. — You barely answer my messages.

— I told you we were going to meet tomorrow, on Friday. — You rested your hands on his chest to move away just enough to look him in the face.

— And about that, you're killing me with curiosity, princess. What are you thinking of doing tomorrow? It's your birthday. — Dabi commented, running his thumb along her bottom lip affectionately.

— I-I know. — You replied, looking away. — I was planning on... going out... with you. — You just didn't say it was going to be an out-of-town trip with no intention of coming back.

— What are you hiding? — He asked, leaning down to place a simple, tender kiss on her lips.

— Would you follow me wherever I went?

— I would follow you to the ends of hell if you asked me to. — Dabi answered, and instinctively you grabbed his face to place your lips back on theirs in a kiss deeper than the one before in a frenzy of feeling.

— Then do it. — Y/N whispered against his lips staring into his beautiful turquoise eyes. — For my birthday the only thing I ask from you is to always be by my side, I don't need material gifts.

Seconds after you finished speaking, the sound of footsteps inside your house could be heard, and a shiver ran down your back as your hands desperately pushed Dabi away in the direction of the very door through which the two of you had entered the yard.

— Damn, not even at dawn I... — Touya began to complain as he walked briskly away from you and disappeared into the darkness of the night to return to his house.

— Shhh, shut up. I'll see you at dawn. Two o'clock, don't forget. — You whispered loud enough for him to hear you as you turned back and faced the back door of your house slowly opening to reveal to you the sleepy figure of your father.

— Honey? — He asked, and you gasped as if you were distracted by something while you could hear your heart beating rapidly. — What are you doing out here? It's late? and cold, you might catch cold.

— I... — Y/N looked around just to make sure there was no more sign of Dabi. — I heard a noise here when I went down to get some water and just wanted to come down and see if it wasn't an animal or something. But it was nothing, I guess it was just my mind playing with me. — It was a good enough lie considering that it wasn't hard to wake up during the night to go to the bathroom or eat something from the fridge.

And then your father called you inside and you promptly went. As the day went on, not even your father's birthday present with the car seemed to quell the anxiety inside you of going to see Dabi in the middle of the night with no intention of coming home. Y/N packed three backpacks and after watching your parents go to sleep, put them all on the back seats of the car after grabbing the keys that your father had left on top of the coffee table in the living room, and also grabbing some money from your father's safe that was in a secluded room in the residence.

After writing a short, albeit long, letter explaining to her mother that she was going to the metropolitan city — but without saying with whom — to try a new life there and that you would be fine because "there were friends waiting for you there" — which was a big lie, but she didn't need to know that — Y/N put on a sweatshirt and ran out of her now former home. Remembering all the various driving lessons her mother had made her take last year, you put the key in the ignition and made sure that your license and other documents were in one of the pockets of the three backpacks on the back seats. And you set off across town to reach the end of the bridge that served as both a gateway into and out of the city, parking exactly beside the welcome sign.

After about fifteen minutes, you watched a silhouette approach through the darkness, and if you didn't recognize the blue-toned sweatshirt with white details that Dabi usually wore when he didn't want to attract attention, you would surely lock yourself inside your car for fear that it was some sexual predator. Before he could finish approaching you at the agreed upon spot and open his mouth to vocalize something, you ran toward him to jump into his arms and kiss him fervently like you hadn't done in almost two weeks. He didn't fight your grip and responded to your display of affection instantly, he missed your touch more than he would admit.

— Where are we going? — He asked, analyzing her new car as he watched you open the back seat door and gestured for him to put his own belongings inside.

— To the big city. — You answered unlocking the door next to the driver's seat after hearing Dabi choke on his own saliva looking at you as if he hadn't heard you correctly. — Come in. — Your head swiveled inward.

— What do you mean we're going to the city? What about your parents? You have a loving family here, I have nothing to lose, but you? — Dabi put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

— I want to go to the city. I want to live with you. — Y/N replied feeling her cheeks heat up and looking at him expectantly. — You said you would go anywhere with me, to the ends of hell.

— And I will, but this decision... — You interrupted him.

— Please. For once in my life I want to do things my way. Without having to hide you from anyone, without having anyone judge me for being with you. Let's go to another city, live together, we'll figure it out when we get there. — You put one hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently.

Touya took a few seconds to process the information and after looking from you to the car, he said:

— Where are the keys? — You waved them in front of him, flashing an amused smile. — So get in the car, doll face. I'll drive. — He gave you a light slap on the butt before pushing you toward the driver's seat, getting into the car and putting the key in the ignition. — How long until we reach the city?

— About six hours, we can get there in the morning.

— Great. — Dabi started the car and began to drive along the deserted road while resting one hand on Y/N’s covered thigh and occasionally giving the area a gentle squeeze.

After about an hour of driving, you became distracted by fiddling with your cell phone until you noticed his long fingers sneaking up and over your thighs until they came dangerously close to Dabi's real intended destination. Her eyes cast a serious countenance at him as if she were silently saying: "Don't you dare" and in response his lips parted in a defiant smile as his hand on the steering wheel slowed and eventually brought the car to a full stop.

— C'mon. It's been almost two weeks since we had sex. — He said, lowering the two seats you were sitting on and pulling you to sit on his lap with your back against the steering wheel.

— And the best place you could find to have sex was inside my new car? — Despite your complaint, you didn't try to restrain his hands from reaching into your sweatshirt to grab and squeeze your breasts, nor did you object to the feeling of his knee pressing against the middle of your legs.

Touya lifts your arms and pulls up your sweatshirt and then concentrates on removing the simple tank top and lacy bra you were wearing, shortly after which he leans over your body to take one of your nipples between his lips to begin stimulating it. In response, you rub your hips against his leg as your hands grip his dark hair as a way to relieve the growing tension settling through your body. His hands slowly slid down your back, past your waist and into your pants, while his right hand also invaded your panties to run his fingers over your pussy lips and his left was busy opening the buttons of that garment.

Y/N put her hands on the hem of his sweatshirt, pulled it up, and was not surprised to see him with nothing underneath. Strangely enough, his skin was naturally too warm and it was not hard to believe that even with the low temperature outside the car he would only need a casual sweatshirt to not feel cold. And that was exactly why you liked so much to run your hands along his body exploring him calmly to make your touches last longer.

Dabi turned his body so that you were lying on the passenger seat and stood over you with a smug smile as his hands dug in and squeezed the skin of your legs after he finished getting rid of your pants with some difficulty because of the tight space.

— Keep your legs open for me or I won't let you cum, princess. — He whispered, sliding his mouth down her torso to her pelvis and pulling her hips up as high as possible before burying his fingers inside her pussy and enveloping her clit with his lips.

Y/N's hands gripped Touya's now messy hair and pushed his face against her hip in search of more of that mind-blowing pleasure she had missed for the few days she had been avoiding him. Suddenly the car became extremely hot, almost to the point where you both felt suffocated and ironically neither of you cared about that, not when Dabi was curving his fingers and sucking your clit in the way that always made your vision cloud and too loud moans escape your mouth. But, you didn't want to cum in his mouth, so your hands moved his face away from your hips and pulled his body up.

— Please, Touya, I need you inside me. — Her voice was slurred by her rapid breathing.

Dabi didn't need you to say anything else, he just stepped back briefly to get rid of the clothes that were still covering his lower body, adjusted your hips to his, leaned on the car door behind your body and guided his cock to the entrance of your pussy. As you felt him fill and enlarge you completely with his tip rubbing against your cervix, you groaned, leaning on his shoulders to face him and watching the small rise against your belly that was always present when that black haired man penetrated you.

Touya slid one hand down your neck and closed his fingers around your neck applying just the right amount of pressure to make waves of pleasure run through your body and not to hurt you. He began to move and Y/N passed her legs around his waist moving her body downward every time Dabi moved upward, occasionally he would take her lips on his just because he liked to feel her moans against his mouth and the rhythm of his hips gradually began to get harder and faster.

— I should cum inside you, hmm? — Touya asked, keeping eye contact with you every moment he thrust inside you again and making you clench your walls around his length without you even realizing it. — Damn, I love you so much, you have no idea what I would do for you.

— So show me. — You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was still resting on your neck and squeezed it without too much force. — Make me your girl.

With a smug and satisfied smile, he continued thrusting himself against her insides to the point where her hips began to ache just seconds before she reached her own orgasm with her nails digging into the skin of Touya's arm and her back arching as spasms coursed through her entire body at a high rate of speed. He gave a few thrusts against your pussy until the white streaks of cum painted your insides and slowly pulled out of you, wanting to prolong the feeling of having you squeeze him some more.

Dabi let his tired body fall back against the driver's seat and concentrated on stabilizing his breathing while you did the same as you looked up at him with the following thought running through your mind: "This is definitely the man I want to be with forever". The thought made your cheeks burn and it didn't go unnoticed by him:

— What? — One of his eyebrows arched.

— Nothing, I was just thinking... about you, about us. — You answered, starting to look around the car for your clothes, and an amused laugh came from Touya's mouth, who looked at you tenderly.

— So I'm always on your mind?

— More than you think, yes. — Y/N answered, leaning over to place a tender kiss at the corner of his lips. — Now get ready, get your clothes, let's get back on the road.

— Can we fuck again before we get to the city again? — Her eyes narrowed in disapproval.

— Shut up, you idiot.

#dabi smut #bnha smut #mha smut #my hero acadamy #boku no hero academia #bnha touya #touya smut #bnha dabi #mha dabi #i4nanami #bnha toya #touya todoroki #dabi x oc #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #bnha

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luvjjongtae · 3 years

Text

The Honeymoon Suite - Ch. 3: Sweet Dreams

Read Ch. 1 here

Pairing / AU info: Kim Kibum x Choi Minho. College AU.

No warnings apply. This is fluff!

Word count: 4.6k

Minho and Kibum didn’t sleep together for two weeks.

And Kibum was suffering. Every morning he woke up and Minho was already gone, making a point to get up and leave earlier than him. They didn’t text or call. Their dinners ceased altogether, and Minho always came back to the dorm after Kibum had fallen asleep.

Well, pretended to be asleep. Kibum not only knew he was having nightmares and fits in his sleep but was now apparently an insomniac, taking at least two hours every night to finally fall asleep. His puffy eyes and dark circles became more prominent than they ever were before.

Minho and Kibum occasionally talked about mundane things like Japanese homework or whether to leave the window open now that the weather was nice. But their conversations were short and curt, neither of them willing to bring up that night again.

After the fifteenth night of not sleeping together (Kibum had counted), he downed his third cup of coffee just that morning, willing himself to stay awake through his math class.

“You good, Kibum?”

Kibum’s eyes snapped open at the whisper of his good friend, Jonghyun, at his side. He had already started dozing off again. That wasn’t a good sign. “Huh?” Kibum said, looking around bewildered.

“You look exhausted, man. Are you sure you should be here today?” Jonghyun asked quietly with concern.

“You know I can’t miss this class,” Kibum grumbled, refocusing on the board and copying down the notes he’d missed when he had been dozing off. “I’m barely passing.”

“Whatever you say,” Jonghyun said, raising his hands up in defeat. “But don’t strain yourself, okay?”

“Sure,” Kibum said halfheartedly. He knew Jonghyun had his best interests at heart but his other friend Jinki had already given him a lecture about falling asleep in the middle of a student government meeting earlier that morning, and he wasn’t ready to deal with that again. “Don’t worry about me, Jjong.”

Jonghyun arched a questioning eyebrow at Kibum but stayed silent, returning to his notes as well. Relieved that he wasn’t going to be lectured or interrogated, Kibum widened his eyes as far as he could and tried to keep them that way, feeling them starting to dry up dangerously fast.

After all his classes were over, Kibum decided he was just going to go to his dorm and take a well-deserved afternoon nap. He didn’t have to worry about an awkward interaction with Minho there because he knew he had practice at this time, so he unlocked their door with a click and groaned loudly when he went inside, dropping his backpack with a bang on the floor.

But then he froze. Minho was there, asleep on his bed. Was his practice canceled? Did he also want to take an afternoon nap? Kibum tried grabbing his backpack and retreating quietly so as to not disturb him but the sounds he had made before already seemed to have woken up Minho, who stirred in his sheets and stretched his arms out with a sigh.

Kibum saw him blink a few times and then lock eyes with him at the door and froze in place. “Kibum?” Minho said quietly.

“Sorry, I’ll leave now.” Kibum flung his backpack over his shoulder and turned to leave.

“No, it’s fine,” Minho said firmly, stopping Kibum who had his hand on the doorknob to leave. “I’m done with my nap anyway.” Kibum heard Minho shuffle around in his sheets and get up.

Kibum turned around to face Minho again, a new resolve to work this out grounding him in place. “But you never take naps. You always said it’s too bright during the day.”

“Yeah? Well, I took one today. Sue me,” Minho snapped back, grabbing his backpack and slipping his shoes on. “I gotta go now,” he said, pointedly looking straight past Kibum at the door behind him.

Kibum stood straighter and stepped to the side to block Minho’s way to the door. “Minho, wait. We need to talk,” he said authoritatively. Enough was enough.

“Not now, Kibum,” Minho said, his eyes darting around to look at everything in their room besides Kibum. “I have somewhere to be.”

“No,” Kibum said, puffing out his chest in determination. “We need to talk.”

“I said, not now,” Minho grumbled through gritted teeth as he roughly pushed past Kibum and grabbed the door handle, flinging the door open aggressively and stomping out to the hall. Kibum watched him leave, the sting in his heart that had been there for two weeks amplified by Minho’s attitude towards him now.

His heart sank when he realized that maybe Minho didn’t want to fix their relationship. Kibum had made an effort to reach out and Minho had only stormed off. Maybe Minho just didn’t care anymore. Kibum could see it now: Minho would wait out the final month of the semester, take his finals, and get a new roommate for next year. He’d never talk to Kibum again and block his number. Kibum would become a distant memory from that one trip to Tokyo he took his sophomore year of college.

And the thought terrified Kibum.

That night, Kibum wrapped himself up in his blankets and angrily stabbed at a stubborn piece of chocolate with a spoon in the tub of cookies and cream ice cream he had indiscriminately been eating while watching a Netflix show on his bed. Was he sulking? Probably. Did he care? Not enough to stop him from swallowing another large spoonful of ice cream.

Minho wasn’t there, as expected. He had been arriving back at the dorm later and later every night, and Kibum knew he was going to sleep alone in the dorm again. Near midnight, Kibum noticed his eyes drooping, the empty ice cream container forgotten on the floor by his bed. He couldn’t remember how the last episode of the Netflix show he had been watching ended, and, blinking sleepily, he shut his laptop and willed himself to fall asleep, praying that the insomnia wouldn’t interfere. He was so sleep-deprived that he had to. Right?

His thought process was correct because Kibum woke up what he figured was a few hours later in a cold sweat to an insistent shushing and whispering near his ear. Stirring slightly and adjusting his eyes to the dark, he could make out the whispering after a few moments. “Shhh, stop screaming,” the voice said gently and repeatedly.

In his sleepiness, Kibum hadn’t realized that there was a warm body pressed up against his back. Minho. His strong arms were wrapped around Kibum’s shivering body, his chin resting on his shoulder. “Shhh,” Minho said again.

“Minho?” Kibum breathed out in disbelief. Minho was in bed with him again?

“Just sleep,” Minho said gently, his hand reaching up to pet Kibum’s hair comfortingly. He sounded half-asleep. “Everything’s all right.”

But Kibum felt completely awake. His eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed, pushing Minho’s arm off him. “Wait, wait, wait,” Kibum said, rubbing his temples as he felt the blood rush up to his head quickly. “Minho, what are you doing? I thought you were mad at me.”

Minho just reached up groggily, his eyes still closed. His hand waved around and caught ahold of Kibum’s elbow, trying to drag him back down to bed. “Bummie,” he whined, “let’s just sleep. I’m tired.”

“Okay,” Kibum said in a soft voice, letting Minho pull him back down and trap him in his embrace on the bed. But Kibum wiggled around a bit and managed to turn so that he was facing Minho, his arms still locked around Kibum’s body. “Is…everything really alright?” Kibum asked quietly, his forehead almost touching Minho’s nose. He could feel his breathing.

“Mmm, yes,” Minho said sleepily, hugging Kibum tighter to his body, his eyes still closed.

Kibum’s eyes widened impossibly in surprise, but after a moment, he let himself melt into the embrace, snuggling his head into Minho’s shoulder. “But…but you were mad at me before,” Kibum insisted.

“I was never mad at you,” Minho said, his voice stronger and more awake. Kibum’s insistent talking had probably woken him up more fully by now. “I guess I was just mad about the situation,” he admitted, resting his chin now on the top of Kibum’s head so that Kibum could feel him talking.

“The situation? You mean us sleeping together?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to force you into anything,” Kibum started, pulling away slightly from Minho to look up at him. “If you were uncomfortable with it, you should’ve told me. I just didn’t kn–”

“No, not that,” Minho said with a low chuckle, interrupting Kibum’s rambling. They were looking at each other face-to-face now, and Minho’s deep eyes were unreadable in the dark. “I never had an issue with this,” Minho said with a small smile Kibum could faintly make out.

“Okay…” Kibum said hesitantly. “Then what do you mean?”

Minho sighed deeply, his breath ruffling up some of Kibum’s bangs. “I can’t tell you.”

“Minho, c’mon. It’s about time we talked about this,” Kibum pleaded. He decided it would help if he was vulnerable first, admitting, “I don’t want to lose you – this friendship, I mean.” He was glad it was dark because he knew his face was starting to get red with this sappiness.

Minho’s breath hitched. “I– really? I thought you…didn’t like me that much, or something,” he mumbled, his gaze dropping.

“Why would you think that?”

“We didn’t exactly have the best first impressions on each other,” Minho said with a smirk.

“Well, yeah.” Kibum rolled his eyes. “But we got over that, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Minho said mostly to himself. “We did, yeah.” Kibum stayed silent, letting Minho think. Then Minho carefully and slowly said, while staring intently at Kibum, “I guess I just thought you didn’t care about me as much…as I care about you.”

“Minho…”

“No, wait. Now that you got me going, I can’t stop.” All the sleepiness was gone from Minho’s voice, replaced with fiery determination and conviction. “I wasn’t mad at you or the arrangements. I love being your roommate. I love sleeping like this with you.” He sighed again before saying, “I guess I just wanted more.”

Kibum was dumbfounded. “More?”

“Yes, more.” Minho continued, rambling slightly, “And look, I get it if you don’t want that - if you don’t like me back that way, whatever. I also just…don’t want to lose you.” When he finished, Kibum could hear his shallow breath coming out in quick, nervous bursts, anticipating Kibum’s response.

“I like you.”

Minho’s eyes widened with surprise - and excitement. “You do? Really?”

“Yes,” Kibum said, cracking a small smile at Minho’s pure bafflement. “I do.”

“You’re not just saying that. Right?”

“Why would I be ‘just saying that?’” Kibum teased.

“I don’t know– I– wow!” Minho said, tripping over his words. Then he laughed. His laugh was so free and fun that Kibum also couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as well. “Oh my God, we’re idiots. We both like each other and we’re idiots.”

“We really are,” Kibum said, beaming. He snuggled in closer to Minho, resting his head on his chest. “We really had to do this at three a.m. too.”

Minho turned serious, his hand resting on Kibum’s back protectively. “You were screaming again. It was worse tonight, so I had to do something.”

“Sorry about that,” Kibum mumbled into Minho’s warm chest. “I guess you couldn’t have been sleeping well either with all my yelling.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t help the situation. I was being an asshole to you.” Minho pulled back to sincerely look into Kibum’s eyes again. “I’m sorry.”

“Please, we really are stupid,” Kibum said with another laugh, which Minho reciprocated. “It was fifteen days of suffering for nothing.”

“Wait, you counted?” Minho then asked.

Feeling the blush suddenly return very quickly, Kibum admitted the truth. “Yeah…”

“God, you’re cute,” Minho said with a smile. Then he pulled Kibum back into his chest and placed a kiss on the top of his head.

Kibum stopped breathing. “Huh?” he managed to choke out.

“You’re cute,” Minho said again, cupping Kibum’s face in his large hands. “Very, very cute,” he said with two accentuating kisses on Kibum’s forehead for each ‘very.’ “Thought so ever since I saw you in Japanese for the first time.”

“Minho, no–”

“Hush, I won’t hear it,” he said, forcing Kibum back into his embrace and pressing him close to his body, their legs tangled together in the sheets. “Let’s just sleep now. We can talk more tomorrow once we’re rested.”

Kibum could feel Minho’s steady heartbeat in his chest. “Okay,” he said quietly, letting himself relax and close his eyes. Kibum felt the tension in his muscles ease away with Minho’s rhythmic breathing and warm presence. He breathed in the familiar smell of cologne, the scent surrounding him in safety and comfort. He was in bed with Minho again, and he was content.

He fell asleep easily and undisturbed in Minho’s arms, finally getting some much-needed rest. He slowly blinked open his eyes the next morning, the room illuminated in a gray sunlight filtering in through the blinds. He basked in Minho’s now-familiar warmth around him, embracing him in a safe bubble. Kibum had been sleeping with his head against Minho’s shoulder, his hands against his chest. He looked up through his lashes and saw Minho’s peaceful sleeping face, his features pleasant and relaxed. Kibum smiled to himself, glad when he realized that this was how he could spend every morning again.

Just then, Minho moved, fluttering his eyelids open and yawning. He noticed Kibum watching him, pressed close to his chest, and smiled softly, saying, “Good morning, Bummie. Did you sleep well?” Kibum felt Minho squeeze his arms around him tighter.

“Yeah, I did. Thanks to you.”

“Me too,” Minho said, snuggling his chin on the top of Kibum’s head. “It’s Saturday, right?”

“Mhmm,” Kibum confirmed.

“Then if we both don’t have anything, we can sleep in some more. Do you want that?”

“I’d love that,” Kibum whispered against the spot between Minho’s shoulder and neck, leaving a little kiss there. Kibum felt Minho’s heartbeat quicken under his hands and smiled to himself.

“Okay.” Minho’s voice came out strained, and he readjusted his legs against Kibum’s, disentangling them slightly. Kibum mourned a little at the loss of his touch but then paid it no mind, letting his heavy eyelids close and sighing deep into Minho’s neck, falling asleep quickly again.

Probably no more than thirty minutes later, Kibum woke up to Minho removing his arms from around him as carefully as possible. “Oh, man,” Minho said when he noticed Kibum wake up. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Why are you leaving?” Kibum whined.

“My phone keeps buzzing,” Minho said with a sigh. He sat up in bed, pushing his messy hair out from his forehead. Oh, how Kibum wanted to kiss that forehead. Minho reached over to grab his phone on the nightstand, vibrating insistently. “Let’s see who it is this time,” Minho said, somewhat annoyed, as he unlocked it and checked his notifications.

Kibum decided he was too cold without Minho, even with the comforter and sheets still piled on top of him. He sat up in bed as well, getting on his knees and waddling over behind Minho, wrapping his arms around his neck and placing his chin on the top of his head now that he was taller than him. Minho, still focused on his phone, reached up with his free hand to stroke Kibum’s arm lightly, acknowledging his presence. Kibum felt his heart swell at the fact that they could act this touchy and intimate even while not sleeping, and that it was natural and easy. “Who dares bother us?” Kibum asked dramatically.

“It’s Taemin,” Minho said with a groan. “He says he needs a highlighter I borrowed from him back. It’s urgent apparently.” Kibum could practically feel Minho rolling his eyes.

“Well, we can’t keep a man waiting,” Kibum said, releasing Minho’s neck and sitting down beside him on the bed, their legs swinging back and forth nonchalantly. “Right?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you,” Minho said quietly, staring at their feet side by side.

“I’ll go with you then,” Kibum offered.

“Okay!” Minho said, jumping up from the bed. “And then we can come back to sleep in.” Minho’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“We could probably do other things besides staying in our room all day,” Kibum said with a light laugh, getting up from the bed as well and stretching his arms.

“Oh, yeah. You’re probably right.” Minho bowed his head in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to– If you don’t want to that’s–”

“I’m kidding,” Kibum said, grabbing his morning cup of water on his nightstand and downing it quickly. “I’d rather stay here with you. I don’t like going out much anyway.”

“Okay, okay,” Minho said, reassuring himself. He pulled out a random sports t-shirt and a pair of jeans from the dresser. “I’ll go get ready now in the bathroom,” he told Kibum with a smile before leaving the dorm.

Once the both of them were dressed and ready to go, and Kibum had insisted on making the bed even though they would probably mess it up in less than an hour again, Minho looked around the room satisfied, his hands on his hips. He breathed in deeply and said, “I love our dorm.”

“Yeah?” Kibum asked, tugging slightly on the comforter to straighten it out.

“Yeah, because you’re my roommate,” Minho said, flashing Kibum his handsome smile once Kibum finished with the bed.

“Stop it,” Kibum said sheepishly, slapping Minho playfully. Minho was watching him intently with his deep brown eyes, sparkling and shining with something Kibum quite place. Kibum’s gaze roamed over his face, examining his cute button nose and pink lips. He gulped. “I’m the one who’s lucky to have you.”

“Hm, that is also true,” Minho said teasingly, turning to open the door and leave. “Now let’s go–”

Kibum couldn’t stop himself from reaching for Minho’s shirt sleeve and pulling him towards him, halting him from opening the door. He spun Minho around to face him and grabbed a fistful of the front of his t-shirt to drag him down to meet him at eye level, reaching up on his tip-toes as well. He kissed him, hard and quick, pulling away after a few seconds, out of breath from the adrenaline.

Minho blinked at him in surprise, his mouth agape. “Uh, that was our first…” Minho said after a moment, his eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Kibum said, immediately feeling guilty and letting go of Minho’s shirt. He looked away rapidly, shuffling his feet around awkwardly. “I just–”

Minho put his heavy hands on Kibum’s shoulders, holding him in place to look at him. “Do that again,” he commanded, his voice low.

Kibum did as he was told. He grabbed Minho’s shirt again and roughly pulled him down, their lips practically crashing together. Minho’s hands on his shoulders tightened their grip on him as he returned the kiss this time, their lips moving together in desperate harmony. Minho’s hands strayed from his shoulders down Kibum’s arms, leaving anticipating goosebumps in their wake. He wrapped his arms around Kibum’s waist and pulled him closer to his body, still kissing him hard. They both wanted this.

Kibum melted into the shape of Minho’s body, letting him hold up his weight as he continued kissing him. He let go of Minho’s shirt and instead pressed his palms flat against Minho’s chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat against him.

After a few more moments, Minho broke away, his teeth tugging on Kibum’s bottom lip lightly. He was out of breath and smiling, his lips deliciously pink. “Well, now I don’t want to go see Taemin at all.”

“The sooner we see Taemin the sooner we can come back,” Kibum said, forcing himself to push Minho’s arms off him, creating some distance between them Kibum wanted to close back up immediately with a kiss.

“I guess you’re right,” Minho said with a whine, grabbing the highlighter Taemin needed so badly off the nightstand and following after Kibum as they both left the dorm to meet up with Taemin.

Taemin had texted Minho to meet him at one of the student lounges, coincidentally Kibum’s favorite place to buy affordable coffee. Kibum and Minho walked together inside the large, spacious lounge, looking around for Taemin’s familiar face. They spotted him waving them over at one of the tables near the main window on the far side and joined him at the table.

“I got you all coffee!” Taemin said, gesturing to the three cups of coffee on the table. “I didn’t know what you wanted, Kibum, but Minho had said you liked sweet things so I got you the sweetest option they had.” He shot him a welcoming smile.

“Oh, thanks, Taemin,” Kibum said, grabbing the warm cup and lifting it to his lips, tasting the drink. It was pretty good. Then Kibum glanced over at Minho and asked, “Minho talks about me?” He noticed Minho’s cheeks redden a bit as he quickly reached for his coffee cup as well, hiding his face as he drank it.

“Oh, yeah. Loads.” Taemin ignored Minho’s death glare and continued. “After that trip to Tokyo, he would not shut up about you, and when you both became roommates he came to me almost in tears. Happy tears,” Taemin added with a smirk in Minho’s direction.

Minho coughed on his coffee and hit his chest a few times. He looked over at Kibum, worry drawn all over his face. “I can explain.”

“You don’t have to,” Kibum said, reaching over under the table to stroke the top of Minho’s hand on his lap softly. “I think it’s cute.”

Minho’s eyes widened, and he looked away, back down at his coffee. But he didn’t move his hand from Kibum’s and his lips were pursed in a small smile.

“See, Minho told me there was nothing between you two, but this doesn’t look like ‘nothing.’” Taemin sipped on his coffee, his gaze flickering between them suspiciously.

Kibum stayed silent and looked over at Minho in question, wondering what he was going to say. Would he say they were together? They hadn’t exactly discussed it, but that’s what it seemed like…

“We’re…” Minho started, his head snapping to Kibum in panic. “We’re…what?” But Kibum also panicked, not sure what to say.

“Er, I’ll just leave you two to figure it out,” Taemin cut in, standing up from the table and grabbing the highlighter Minho had left at the center. “Thanks for the highlighter, bye!” he said in a sing-songy voice, bouncing out of the lounge and leaving Kibum and Minho alone at the table, staring at each other in silence.

“So,” Kibum started, his hand still on Minho’s underneath the table. They both didn’t move.

“So.”

“What…are we?” Kibum asked. “Not that we have to decide or be anything…but, y’know…” His voice trailed off with uncertainty.

“What do you want us to be?” Minho said instead.

Kibum froze. Should he say what he really wanted? Minho had given him all the signs but there was still a small, cowardly part of him that feared rejection, losing him completely.

But he remembered what happened the last time he went with “the safe option,” and decided this time to be honest about what he really wanted. “I want us to be boyfriends.” He focused on Minho’s face, waiting for his reaction, his heart in his throat.

Minho beamed at him. “Me too. Me too, Bummie,” Minho said, his voice cracking as he rushed forward slightly to kiss Kibum, his hands pressing down on Kibum’s shoulders to hold his balance as he scooted to the very edge of his chair. Kibum kissed him back, his body instinctively relaxing into Minho’s, forgetting that they were in the public lounge. His hands haphazardly wrapped around Minho’s neck, pulling him closer and closer to him as they kissed each other senselessly.

A loud cough a few feet away caught both their attention. Minho pulled away, snapping his head to the side, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “Rude,” he huffed out with a pout.

“We’re in a public place, Minho,” Kibum snickered into Minho’s shoulder. “Let’s go back to the dorm.”

“Oh?” Minho asked, turning back to Kibum with an excited sparkle in his eyes. “Wh– what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” Kibum started, getting up from his chair and pushing it in. He started walking towards the exit, knowing that Minho was close on his tail. “We could, like, fuck or something, if you want…” Kibum said nonchalantly as he walked ahead of Minho, trying to aggressively push down the blush he felt rushing up his cheeks.

“You– I– what?” Minho sputtered out, running a bit to catch up to Kibum’s fast walking. He fell into step beside him. “Um, I mean–”

“I’m kidding, Minho,” Kibum said, shooting him his best smirk. “How’s cuddling? We could watch a movie marathon,” he offered to Minho whose face was tomato red.

“Yeah.” His voice was strained, Kibum noticed. He nodded at Kibum, his head bobbing vigorously. “Cuddling sounds good.”

They climbed up the stairs to their dorm together, their hands brushing past each other softly every once in a while and sending tingles up Kibum’s arm before Minho decided to hold Kibum’s hand in his fully, squeezing it softly when Kibum glanced at him. They smiled at each other warmly.

Once the dorm door closed behind them with a click, Minho grabbed Kibum’s shoulders and kissed him hard again. Kibum reciprocated, stepping back until his knees pressed against his bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling Minho down beside him as they continued kissing passionately.

Then Kibum pulled away, admiring Minho’s handsome face, clouded in want. “Weren’t we going to cuddle?”

Minho pouted. “Oh, yeah…”

Kibum grabbed his laptop from his backpack on the floor and pushed himself back on the bed, settling into the corner by the wall and the headboard. He felt Minho also sit back on the bed beside him, his arm pressed against Kibum’s, as he browsed through Netflix. “What are we feeling?” Kibum asked.

“How about that one?” Minho pointed to a movie with a soccer ball on the cover photo. Of course.

“Sure,” Kibum said with a smile, clicking into it. “I’ll watch something about soccer for you.”

“For me?”

“Only for you.” Kibum pressed play and leaned back into the pillows, snuggling next to Minho, holding onto his arm and feeling his bicep through the shirt sleeve. “But you can’t blame me if I fall asleep from the sports.”

“Okay,” Minho said in a quiet voice, leaning his head on Kibum’s. “I’ll be here if you do. Always.”

“I know,” he responded, his voice also quiet now that the movie started. “Thanks, Minho.”

“No need to thank me,” Minho said, placing a kiss on the top of Kibum’s head. “That’s what boyfriends do.”

A few hours later, the computer lay forgotten on the bed, the Netflix “Are you still watching?” screen on display in the dimly lit room. But Kibum and Minho were peacefully asleep, their heads leaning towards each other and their legs tangled together on the bed, sweet dreams playing in their heads.

#shinee #shinee fic #shinee fanfic #shinee fluff #kim kibum #choi minho #shinee key #shinee minho #minkey #minho x kibum #kibum x minho #minkey fluff #kpop fluff

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thirstyforcharacters · 4 years

Text

Tequila (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: Every person has a soulmate. When your soulmate experiences pain, so do you, and any bruises, scars, or other markings that they get appear on your skin. Or, the story of how aliens attacking Las Vegas was the best thing to ever happen to you.

Notes: Hello! I already did a very similar soulmate AU for Sam Wilson (which you can read here), but I love soulmate AU’s so much that I decided to do one for Bucky, too! Hopefully, I made them different enough that they don’t seem too repetitive. Did I write this while I was supposed to be watching a documentary on Bach for music history? Maybe. But I think this was a much better use of my time. Hope you enjoy! (no y/n, no pronouns)

Warnings: canon typical violence, alien invasion, blood (not too much tho), car crash

WC: 1.9 k

For all of your life, you couldn’t feel your left arm.

When you started to crawl, your parents noticed you only used your right arm to pull yourself forward while your left would hang limply at your side. Your parents brought you to the doctor, deeply concerned, but when she examined your arm, she found nothing wrong. No x-rays showed broken or deformed bones, and no MRI’s showed any problems in the brain. By all medical standards, you should be able to move your left arm. You just couldn’t. Everyone hoped that it would go away, but to their chagrin, it remained unmoving throughout your childhood. You obviously knew your arm was there since you could clearly see it, but you couldn’t feel the nerve endings inside it. When you poked your arm with your other finger, you felt absolutely nothing. And weirdly enough, your family said it was always cold to the touch, no matter how warm the rest of your body was.

You had a feeling that it had something to do with your soulmate, and when you reached adulthood (specifically around 24), you were almost positive that was the reason. You often woke up with random injuries that you knew you didn’t give yourself. Gunshot wounds, deep slashes, broken bones, and large bruises were commonly branded on your skin. You were positive that if your soulmate was getting shot at every other night, then they almost definitely had some sort of damage done to their arm that affected your own. But if they had had this condition since you were born, how old were they? That was always a question that kind of weirded you out. You didn’t particularly want to be “meant to be” with some wrinkly, old person! Especially if they were somehow getting themselves into this much trouble. And now that you thought about it, none of these injuries were on your (or their) left arm. How could that be if they’ve literally been hurt everywhere else on their body?

When you weren’t in and out of the hospital with randomly serious injuries, you were quite busy cooking up a storm in Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila, your restaurant in Las Vegas. You and your best friend, Nicolás, had opened it three years ago; you were the head chef and he ran the business side of things. The two of you had talked about opening a restaurant together since you were teenagers, so both of you had moved to Vegas together after college/culinary school. Together, you found that you were an unstoppable team, and within a year of opening, you were one of the most popular restaurants throughout all of Vegas! Most times, because you were so busy, your soulmate problem stayed in the back of your mind. But every once in a while, a bruise would appear on your eye or a large cut down the length of your leg, and you would be reminded again.

Nic, as you called him, already found his soulmate. Oliver had moved in with you a year ago, and joined you side by side in the kitchen. You became almost as close with him as you had with Nic. They were adorable together, and never made you feel like the third wheel. There were some times, though, where you found yourself a little bit jealous that they had found each other so quickly, and that neither of them had ever suddenly started bleeding all over a nearly complete order of mango fish tacos.

Whenever you got a little down about it, Nic would always clap you on the shoulder and say, “You’ll find them someday. And when you do, break their nose. They deserve it for the hell they’re accidentally putting you through.”

It never failed to make you laugh. You had half a mind to do just that when you met the love of your life. You just didn’t know when that would be.

On yet another hot and dry Nevada night, you were closing up at the restaurant (or morning, you supposed, since it was nearly 1 am). Nic, Oliver, and your other employees had gone home already, so it was only you that remained. You turned off the lights and locked the door. You pushed your way through the drunken crowds and tourists on the street and made your way to your car. As you were opening the door, you could hear gasps of shock coming from the crowd of people roaming the streets. You looked up and saw an eerie flash of green across the sky, and a strange-looking, portal appeared in the sky! Shrieks of fear permeated the air as grotesque, reptilian creatures began spilling from the portal.

Frantically, you flung yourself into your car and turned over the engine, hoping to escape the clutches of these aliens. Though your apartment was in the opposite direction of the portal, as per usual, there was a decent amount of traffic, so you weren’t sure how good your chances were. But you figured you’d at least be safer in your car than exposed outside of it.

You were able to pull into traffic and weave through it fairly well, making good use of the side streets that only the locals knew about. But the creatures were overtaking the city faster than you could drive. You knew you didn’t have long before they caught up with you.

Just when that thought popped into your head, a blinding flash of light appeared in your rearview mirror. A loud bang, almost like a cannon, sounded, and through your mirror, you saw a truck hurtling toward you at breakneck speed! You attempted to swerve out of the way, but the truck crashed into your car, shoving it against a street light! The driver’s side of your car crumpled against the lamppost, and the glass in your window shattered at the contact. You attempted to cover your face with your hands, but a piece of glass still managed to make a pretty deep cut above your left eye, as well as a few pieces of shrapnel sinking into your legs. The whiplash from the contact damaged your neck as well; pain spread throughout your neck and back. All you could do was sob in agony. You had never felt this much pain in your life.

Your hand was trembling as you unbuckled your seatbelt, but you found yourself unable to leave your car! The driver’s side door was crushed, the truck was smushed against your passenger door, and there was no way you would be able to climb out of the backseat, nor lift yourself out of the broken window with the injuries you sustained. You were trapped. You waited for a little bit, until some of the chaos surrounding you died down; even in your damaged state, you knew that no one would be able to hear you even if you screamed for help as loudly as you could.

You strained your ears, and were able to hear gunfire, commands being shouted, and the hissing of these reptilian creatures. Eventually, instead of the noise of a battle, you could hear voices trying to dig people out of the rubble. Somehow, they sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place how. Well, if they were rescuing people, you figured they were your only chance.

“Help,” you screamed, “I’m trapped in my car! Please help me!”

You heard footsteps sprinting in your direction and a voice call, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of there!”

You watched in amazement as the truck on your passenger’s side was surrounded by a glowing, red presence, and moved out of the way! It had to be the Avengers! Who else would be able to do something that crazy? You were brought out of your thoughts by your car being dragged away from the pole, making you jump. A face popped up in your shattered window. He was gorgeous; bright, blue eyes, short, chestnut hair, and a warm smile. He took hold of the broken door and wrenched it from its fastenings.

“Hi. My name is Bucky Barnes. This is Wanda Maximoff,” the man said, gesturing back to a woman wearing scarlet, “we’re going to get you out of here, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, relieved, “thank you so much!”

He smiled again, “Oh, it’s no problem. You should probably stay there until the EMT’s get here. Moving might make your injuries even worse.”

You nodded slightly in reply, but the pull in your neck made you groan in pain.

He winced, “Try not to move that, either. You may not be bleeding there, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Here, let me help you with that. I can at least stop the bleeding,” he offered, gesturing to your forehead and leg.

“Oh, thank you!” you answered.

He nodded and reached for some bandages he had in his jacket with his metal arm. His left arm. Suddenly, you noticed things you didn’t notice before. He also had a large cut above his left eye, in the same spot as your injury. It wasn’t bleeding, though, perhaps because of his enhancements. You noticed him moving his neck in a circular motion, seemingly to stretch it out. He had holes in his pants and small puncture wounds on his legs, in the same spots where glass was sticking out of you. Again, though, they were already healing. Could that be why you had never felt your arm before? Because your soulmate’s was metal? It would make complete sense.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t even realize you had zoned out until Bucky addressed you. He was gently cleaning the wound on your forehead.

“Yes,” you whispered, fixated on the wound on his forehead.

His eyebrow raised, “Are you sure? You seem a little out of it.”

“I-I’m fine. I just noticed something kind of strange. I think the cut on your forehead matches mine.”

He touched his forehead, “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that with the adrenaline and everything. Only got it maybe 20 minutes ago.”

“That’s when my car crashed. And you’re having neck pain, like me,” you murmured, “and your arm is metal. I’ve never been able to feel my arm.”

His eyes widened, “Really? You think we’re meant to be?”

“Maybe,” you replied.

He nodded, “It seems likely. What’s your name?”

You gave him your name and he smiled again.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a century.”

You giggled softly, “I guess that explains why I’ve been experiencing this since I was born. I was afraid you’d be gross and wrinkly.”

He chuckled, “Well, hopefully you don’t think I’m either of those things.”

“Definitely not.”

The EMT’s arrived then. Bucky stepped aside and the medics removed you from your car.

As you were being loaded into the ambulance, Bucky approached you.

“How can I get in contact with you after this?”

“Just come by Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila. It’s my restaurant, I’m almost always there,” you told him.

“Okay. I’ll drop by sometime soon, when you’re better of course.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

As he was walking away, you couldn’t stop the grin forming on your lips. Sure, what had happened to you today was terrible. But you knew you would heal, and now, you had also finally met your soulmate. No wonder why you were randomly injured all of the time! If today was any indicator of what the rest of your relationship would look like, though, you’d probably need all of that tequila you were selling for yourself.

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #Bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #Bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky barnes fic #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier fic #x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader fic #x reader fluff #soulmate au

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katrinawritesthings · 2 years

Text

Jonghyun/Taemin ; an actual vampau can you believe it; PG

Anonymous asked: vampires in a fancy castle 🧛👑🌙🍷 "This," he gestures around the room again, "this is like. Ooh, I'm a spooky vampire, I want to suck your blood, bluhh.” He draws the collar of his jacket up and speaks in the dracula accent, wiggling his fingers and baring his fangs, then rolls his eyes. "I'm just saying, it's a little tryhard.” vamp au : )

“This is where they live?”

“Huh? Yeah.” Jonghyun barely looks up from his phone when Taemin asks him the question. It's cool that Taemin is seeing the grand manor for the first time with its high towers and gnarled trees and gothic windows and everything, but Jonghyun has seen it a hundred times before and he has sportsball to pretend to be interested in if he wants to fuck that cute human at the gym anytime soon. It's been a while since he's wanted to sleep with a jock and he's sure the rules have to have changed since the last time.

He grabs the wrought-iron gate and yanks it open, beckoning Taemin to follow him with an impatient hand. Above them, the moonlight gives them enough light to not trip over the cobbled stone pathway up to the front doors. On the porch, Taemin rings the doorbell and Jonghyun impatiently taps his knuckles on the black wood until they're let in.

"Oh, it's you.” Jonghyun doesn't even need to look to know that the dickhead receptionist has scrunched their nose at him as usual.

"Sure is," he says, brushing past them and into the entrance hall. Twenty-something years has not sweetened his opinion of them one bit.

"Is this your new little project?” they sneer as Taemin follows behind him.

Twenty-something years hasn't made them any better at being petty, either. It's not even fun to be enemies with them. "Mind your own business,” Jonghyun says, and he pulls Taemin into the waiting parlor without a glance back. "They know we're here," he tells Taemin, taking a seat on one of the expensive leather couches. "Vampire stuff. You know how it is. Just hang out for a little bit.” And he gets right back to his phone.

He should probably be offering Taemin some advice; it's not every day a baby vampire gets to meet the elders to celebrate reaching their first decade. But as Taemin's mentor these past ten years, Jonghyun has learned how he works. He picks up on Jonghyun's tense moods, taking Jonghyun's worry as justification for letting his own anxiety swallow him up. So if Jonghyun doesn't make a big deal out of this, neither will Taemin.

Since when has college sportsball been important? Is he supposed to care about two entire separate leagues? What the fuck. Maybe he doesn't want to sleep with the cute gym guy as much as he thought he did. Not if it requires this much effort to seduce him. Then again, he does smelly really fucking good.

"This is all so tacky.”

“Wuh?” Jonghyun tears his eyes away from his phone. Taemin is standing in the middle of the room, hands on his hips, frowning underneath his wavy black bangs. He looks at Jonghyun and gestures around at the walls.

"All of this,” he says. "The decor. The black and red. The fancy lace. Crystal chandelier.” He points up at the ceiling. "This literally looks like, like, the goth mansion from the sims. You told me they only moved here a century ago. They had to make this place look like this on purpose. Did they become vampires and decide to become stereotypes too?” Walking to one of the recliners, he feels up the cover on the back of it and apparently decides that it's too fancy and pretentious because he lets go of it with a scoff. "Am I supposed to be impressed by these old rich assholes?" he asks.

Jonghyun frowns right back at him. Rude. "You're supposed to be respectful, at least," he says. The elders are the ones that gave Taemin a sentient afterlife, and the ones that keep vampires safe from hunters, and the ones that use all of their wealth to do on the ground charity work and public services for humans that the government refuses to do. So what if they want to live in a cliche. "Also," Jonghyun says, not bothering with reminding Taemin of everything the elders are good for. They can do that if they care enough to. He crosses his legs and his arms, raising his eyebrows at his baby mentee. "You're one to talk. What have you done since you became a vampire, mister fly all the way to Paris to film a slutty dance video of yourself in front of the original Gates of Hell?"

"Okay," Taemin says loudly. He crosses his arms and sets his jaw, the image of the defiant, grumpy, confrontational vampire he was during his first year. As he's learned more and grown more used to his new life, he's calmed down a little, but he does pull this mood out when he's feeling particularly defensive. Jonghyun wonders if Taemin knows that it doesn't work on him anymore and now he just thinks it's cute. "That's different," Taemin says. "That was – first of all, you're the one that wanted to go to Europe. Second of all, I liked dancing before. And third of all, I'm literally weird queer deconverted catholic. It wasn't stereotypical, it was defiant. It was empowering. It was reclaim. Reclaimary? Atory? Recl–re–”

"Reclamation.”

"It was a reclamation.” Taemin continues without missing a beat. "This," he gestures around the room again, "this is like. Ooh, I'm a spooky vampire, I want to suck your blood, bluhh.” He draws the collar of his jacket up and speaks in the dracula accent, wiggling his fingers and baring his fangs, then rolls his eyes. "I'm just saying, it's a little tryhard.”

"Maybe we just like the way it looks.”

"Jesus –” Taemin jumps a mile when Jinki speaks behind him. Jonghyun, who watched Jinki walk into the room, smiles broadly at his mentor.

"Hi Jinki,” he says. He's looking way too handsome as always with his square glasses and pushed back hair and rumpled suit. Even more so now that he’s smiling so amused at Taemin. Smugness always did look good on him. Jonghyun has to take a moment and catch his own breath.

"Hi honey,” Jinki says to him, so much warmth in his voice that Jonghyun has to take another couple of moments.

“Christ,” Taemin mumbles into his hands. He hasn't blushed in 10 years, but Jonghyun still knows that if he could he would be neon red right now. "You can't do that to me, Jinx," he groans.

Chuckling, Jinki gets an arm around Taemin's waist. “Come on, birthday boy," he says. "Let's go tell the others what you think about their home decor.”

He guides Taemin out of the room, mumbling and whining into his hands the entire time. Jonghyun watches them go, shaking his head. So much for Taemin not being nervous. He's still pretty sure that Taemin will make a good impression, or at least not embarrass himself any more, but he calls, "be nice to him!” At JinkIis back anyway.

Taemin might be a gremlin and annoying and way too much of a handful to deal with, but all the same. He’s Jonghyun's gremlin. Jonghyun is the only one that gets to snap at him. Anyone else will get a full show of his fangs no matter who it is. Even if it's one of the elders. He doesn't care.

Alone now, he lays out on the couch and pulls up his phone again. He has a couple of decades of sportsball to catch up with before Taemin will return needing praise and validation.

#jongtae #jonghyun #taemin #jinki #Also is there #Mostly to be hot #vampau #pg13 #comedy #ydw #Aaron. Aaron look.#I didn't actually mean to make this vampau but here we are LMAO #Taemin Goes in and introduces himself and talks about some neat stuff that he's been doing since he got turned #And then Jonghyun goes in and talks about what a good little noodle he is and how much he's learning #And all the new spooky friends he's made #And then they get. I don't know. Congratulations on not accidentally stepping outside and getting vaporized by the sun for 10 years awards.#And then go home and get chicken nuggies : )

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thegryffindorprincess · 4 years

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Too Hasty//Draco Malfoy x Reader

A/N: OKAY I’M SO SORRY I JUST LEFT THE WHOLE PLATFORM FOR LIKE A MONTH! Basically, I caught covid-19 (lmao) and have been dying for a few weeks, but today was my first day out of my uni halls and first day back in lessons so I’m back for now. Here’s a cute ass little story for you all, I will be back x

Word Count: 1,818

Set: Post War

Warnings: Literally none, just cute

Harry Potter stood in the door way of the dining room at the back of Grimmauld Place fondly, looking at the people sitting around the table. Hermione and Ron were sat together reading, him noticing her grinning slightly when Ron needed to read a passage of text out loud to understand what it was he was reading. His eyes shifted to George, Luna and Neville who were attempting to balance as many goblets on top of each other as possible, erupting into a fit of giggles when it fell, Luna casually flicking her wand before they made a large bang on the table. He also watched his fiance, Ginny coo at Teddy Tonks who was babbling away in his high chair, using the few words he knew to communicate that he was demanding more pumpkin juice. And finally, Harry smiled as Draco Malfoy attempted to spoon feed Teddy some very odd looking green paste that he’d read encourages toddlers motor skills. When their eyes met they shared a very understanding glance. Teddy giggled as the goop touched his nose, spraying some of it onto Draco, causing the blonde man to grimace slightly but smile at the small boy instead. Harry moved towards the table and began to stack the plates onto one another, moving them into the kitchen.

“Hey Harry, let me help you.” Draco said, wiping Teddy’s dribbling mouth, going to stand, starting to pick up a few of the plates. Harry smiled at him thankfully and the two of them began to wash up the dishes in the kitchen. Harry Potter liked this Draco Malfoy and was amazed at the man he had grown up to be. Since the war- and since Harry had saved him from a stint in Azkaban, Draco had devoted himself to things that brought the world good. He’d trained long and hard to become a Healer, helping to care for vunerable people who were affected by the war, he’d taken on Teddy as his own son, moving in with the Order of the Pheonix to not only care for his second cousin every day but to help his new found friends with their fight against dark magic. Everything about his new life appeared to be perfect, except one thing. As Draco and Harry finished off drying Teddy’s “Chudley Cannon’s” bowl, brought for him by Ron, the shrill sound of the door bell sounded throughout the hall. Harry jumped a little, excusing himself from the others and walked towards the door, right hand resting on his wand that was stuck out of his pocket. He flung the door open. The cool air from the evening night hit his face and a figure that had been waiting patiently away from the door turned to face him.

“Harry!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in. Y/N Y/L/N was stood in the weak evening sunlight, her skin glowing. Her features were so gentle that they seemed painted, her hair was done up, wand stuck through it. She was grinning from ear to ear, skin tanned.

“Y/N! Come in, come in. You must tell us where you’ve been!” Harry helped her in, taking her suitcases and resting them by the staircase. Y/N entered Grimmauld Place, taking in how much it had brightened up and changed since the last time she’d visited. She wondered into the dining room, exchanging hugs and greetings with her friends, all of them exclaiming how amazing she looked and how much they’d missed her. She smiled back at them all, thanking them for their kindness.

“Oh it’s been amazing! Paris was just beautiful I am so glad I went. I feel like I’ve finally got over-” Y/N stopped suddenly, looking over to the figure who’d just emerged from the kitchen. Draco had been hiding in the darkness of the kitchen, but now was stood awkwardly in the dining room’s light. “Draco.” She breathed, finishing her sentence. He waved a little, throwing her a tiny smile. She didn’t respond. Pretending she hadn’t seen it, she continued with her anecdote, animatedly telling the group about her world traveling, her visit to most of the wizarding Ministries of Magic and her new career editing the Daily Prophet. The group listened intensely, hanging on her every word, Hermione keeping her eye on Draco as he stared nervously at his feet, remaining at the door. Y/N also told Teddy about the creatures she’d met from other countries, taking pride in the way he glowed. The conversation came to an end.

“Will you be staying Y/N?” Ginny asked grinning, “please say you’re staying!” Y/N laughed at her best friend.

“If it’s not any trouble, I can always go to the Leaky Caul-”

“No way.” Hermione said firmly, “you must stay here.” With that, Hermione took Y/N’s hand and led her up the stairs, Ginny and Luna following behind. Hermione took them into one of the spare bedrooms, where Luna’s bed was already set up and waved her wand, creating a new blow-up style bed on the floor. Y/N thanked her gently, throwing her heavy bags down by the dresser. The girls stayed for a while, making themselves comfortable in the room. They sat in silence.

“I didn’t know Draco was living with you now.” Y/N said quietly, making sure her face remained neutral.

“Yeah,” Hermione said, fidgiting with her sleeves, “he’s lived with us ever since his charges were dropped.” Y/N nodded quickly, going back to unpacking her bags.

“I’m sure Y/N doesn’t want to be bored by chat of her ex fiance.” Ginny slightly snapped, pulling Hermione with her, nearing the door. “We’ll let you sleep now, goodnight girls.”

Once they left, Y/N and Luna got ready for bed, exchanging slight chat as they did so, Luna very interested in Y/N’s travels.

“You know,” said Luna quietly as they both snuggled up into the covers, “Draco really is quite different now.” Before turning over and closing her eyes dreamily. Y/N huffed a little, turning over herself.

“Let’s not be too hasty.” Y/N mumbled, huffing again before going to sleep.

XXXX

The morning came quickly for Y/N who’d spent most of the night awake. At five in the morning, she slipped out of bed, putting on her dressing gown and gently plopping down the stairs. She wandered into the kitchen quietly, trying not to disturb the sleeping house. As she went towards the kettle, a figure moved out into the light, causing her to jump slightly.

“Draco!” She whispered, clutching her chest. He smiled at her softly, a small baby bottle in his hand, which he was shaking.

“How are you?” Draco asked, running a pale hand through his platinum hair, letting it hang messily in front of his eyes. “I feel like yesterday was a bit of a um shock for us both.” Y/N looked awkwardly, filling the kettle up with water, tapping it with her wand.

“Yeah it was a little odd, I mean last time I saw you you were a death eater and now you’re some kind of fucking saint.” As the words left her mouth, she watched his face fall. Her hands shot up to her mouth. “I’m sorry....I-”

“I can hear Teddy crying for his bottle,” Draco whispered horsely, pushing past her as he left the kitchen, “I’ll see you later.” Y/N watched him leave, unsure of what to say. She continued to make her tea, eyes threatening to spill tears as she sat at the table. Her owl flew in through the window, dropping the Daily Prophet onto the table top. She thanked it, before settling down to read in the morning sunlight.

XXXX

When the rest of the house arose, they were rushing around getting ready for work. Knowing Draco would be staying home all day with Teddy, some of the gangs attempted to haul her to work with them, George explaining how much he’d love to have her at the shop, Ginny saying that Y/N would be more than welcome to help referee, but she politely rejected all of them. They left one after another, all looking very important and busy. As Ron shut the door behind him, the last one to leave, the house fell into a sudden silence. Y/N watched from the dining room as Draco played with Teddy, teaching him letters from a small leather bound book. His face was painted in a gentle happiness as he watched the small boy fondly, running his hands through his dark locks. She watched closely as Teddy’s eyes began to flutter close, Draco hauling him up onto the sofa and covering him in a blanket from the chest on the floor. As Draco placed a small kiss on his forehead, Y/N entered, settling on the living room floor and tidying some of Teddy’s toys away.

“Leave that,” Draco said, swatting her away, “I’ve got it.” Y/N shuffled awkwardly from him, letting him squish past to grab the toys.

“I wanted to say sorry.” Y/N began, looking Draco in the eyes for the first time since last night, “You didn’t deserve that. I shouldn’t have spoken to you in that way.” Draco nodded, continuing to tidy up the floor.

“I’ve not stopped thinking about you.” He slightly whispered. Y/N felt like she’d stopped breathing for a moment. “Not dated, not kissed, not,” he lowered his voice, looking over to Teddy to ensure he was asleep, “fucked anybody else.”

“Really?” She asked. “Neither have I for the record I couldn’t.” Draco swallowed, looking down at her, where she sat on the floor.

“I kept my promise to you.” Y/N cocked her head a little confused. He rolled up his sleeve, showing her the nearly faded dark mark that still lay in his skin. “I will counter act my evil until my mark disappears for you.” Her mouth fell open as she watched how he flinched at the sight of his arm. She leant up, Draco allowing her gentle fingers to stroke the mark.

“For me?” She repeated.

“You.” Draco watched her carefully as she stood from where she was standing, moving closer to him. He automatically pulled her into him, just like he always had.

“Kiss me idiot.” She said grinning, allowing him to grab her jaw softly, pulling her into a glowing kiss. She felt her skin heat up as her pressed closer to her bringing her closer and closer.

“Uncle Dray?” A tiny voice squeaked from the sofa. The two shot round just in time to watch Teddy looking confused at them.

“Yes Ted?” Draco quickly said, regaining his composure.

“Is that your new wife?” Teddy asked innocently, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Y/N began to giggle a little, covering her mouth with her hand. Draco began to laugh to, walking over to Teddy and pulling him into a cuddle.

“Let’s not be too hasty hey Ted.”

688 notes · View notes

celestialinception · 4 years

Text

When All is Right with the World (pt.2)

Summary: When the ministry issues a call out for the proving of blood status, Fred decides that it’s too dangerous for the Reader and him to be together, leading to unforeseen consequences.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Whump, brief mentions of torture, mutual pining- with a happy ending.

With a crack, Fred and George landed outside the gates of Malfoy Manor and began pacing around to one of the servant entrances. The wind was loud, and the sound of shaking trees muffled their voices.

“Right- in and out. And we’re splitting up. We can cover more ground that way.”

George nodded, not minding that they were going to completely disregard what their father had told them. “We’ll meet back where we came in in 15 minutes. That way if she’s not there we can keep moving, and if one of us gets caught we know somethings up.”

Fred’s mouth was set in a grim line. He shook his head in assent and continued walking through the long grass, his shoulders squared.

“We’ll find her, Fred. We’ll get to her before…” George trailed off. He couldn’t complete that sentence truthfully.

George was very worried as to what he and his twin might find in the Manor. As core-shaking as the image of Y/n’s unconscious or worse, dead body, was when it came to mind, it was nothing compared to the image of his brother finding the body and losing the plot, resulting in him inadvertently killing them both.

Fred had changed since he had cast Y/n out. His old cheerful and exuberant demeanor was faded, and instead a cynical, hardened exterior had taken its place. George also knew that he rarely had a full night’s sleep, as was evident by the dark rings under his eyes and also the fact that Fred always went to bed later and got up earlier than himself. While George was externally annoyed by this new Fred, internally he was constantly worrying about when Fred would reach breaking point and snap.

Fred didn’t say a word, and they continued until they had made it through the gate and into the kitchen of the manor. They passed through the doors, finding a long hallway.

“Shout if you need.” George said.

“Yeah. You too” and with a quick nod to each other, took off in separate directions.

The scent of old drapes hung in the air as George traveled down the corridor. He checked every door as he passed by, peeking in to see if Y/n was in one of the rooms. He was desperately hoping to find Y/n before Fred did, therefore he would be able to prepare Fred if the worst had happened.

He turned down another hallway and had gotten halfway down it when a muffled scream was heard coming from a door down the hall. George took off.

He reached the door, and checking that no one was around, cast alohomora in case the door was locked and opened it slightly. He had to be sure it was Y/n before he went barging in.

The croaky voice of a girl sounded, but it was so low, George couldn’t identify if it was Y/n.

“Please… Please don’t…”

A man’s voice floated into the hallway.

“Now, now lovely, don’t be like that. Just a bit more, I mean you can’t be dead when they see ya’ you’d be no use otherwise. Just a couple more lovely litt’le markin’s for ya, and we’ll be done for the moment.” George looked through the doorway and the chilling scream that sounded from the girl twitching on the floor shook him more than he had ever been in his life.

The door banged against the wall as George threw it open.

“STUPEFY!”

Rookwood slumped over to the side from where he had been positioned over Y/n. George ran to her side.

“Y/n! Are you alright!? Come on, answer me… dammit!”

The pools of blood that were lying in the hollow of Y/n’s collarbones were seeping onto the floor. Tremors shook her body, and even if she heard him, she couldn’t even look at him. They needed to get her out of here.

“FRED! FRED! I’VE FOUND…” His voice trailed off as the form of Lucius Malfoy strode in through the door, wand pointed at George.

“Ahh, so there was a little rescue mission after all. Well, it’ll make it easier to get information I suppose. Get away from her, go on now.” Lucius nodded his head to the wall.

“Not a chance, mate.” George stood defiantly over Y/n’s body, trying to shield her from view.

Lucius sighed. “Very well then,” A groan from Y/n caused George to look around, and in the split second of distraction, ropes flew from the end of Lucius’s wand and around his body. With a flick, George was pinned to the wall.

“Now, “ Lucius stalked over to Y/n and dragged her halfway upright by her arm. As he did so, her arm made an awful crunching sound, and Y/n, in her barely conscious state, cried out. Lucius put his wand just underneath the cut under her collar bone. “If you comply and give me what I want, she can be returned to you with no further harm done and you will be permitted to leave no questions asked.” He pressed into her skin, and she groaned. “But if you don’t, I will personally make sure she dies in the most excruciatingly painful way possible. Your choice.”

The blood was dripping from her clothes now. George’s mind was racing, weighing up betraying Harry and letting Y/n die. Neither option was acceptable.

Lucius grew impatient, “Let me spur along your decision making… CRUCIO!”

Y/n’s body writhed, and her screams had him pulling frantically on the ropes that were binding him.

“Y/N! I’LL TELL YOU I’LL TELL YOU STOP HURTING HER I SWEAR I WILL TELL YOU PLEASE…”

A loud bang sounded, and Lucius Malfoy was hurtled away from Y/n into the wall across from George. Fred stormed into the room, eyes blazing. She slumped down to the ground, and George’s ropes fell away onto the floor, he rushed to her side. Fred, seeing that George had Y/n, turned back to see Lucius clambering to his feet.

Lucius turned his wand on Fred, but Fred was quicker.

“Incarcerous.” Lucius’s body was immediately seized, and with a flick of his wand, Lucius was forced roughly back into the wall, head banging on the stone. His slumped form appeared concussed, struggling to focus on Fred as he drew nearer. Fred placed the tip of his wand harshly under Lucius’ chin.

Fred’s voice was so low that George could barely hear it. “If you ever touch her again, I will ensure that you never again see the light of day.” In that moment, George was sure Fred was half-crazed, finally cracked. Fred walked over and scooped Y/n out of George’s hold up into his arms.

“Let’s go.” He nodded at George and with a crack they hurtled away from Malfoy Manor.

_____________________________________________________________

Y/n woke to the feeling of cold wind on her face. Opening her eyes, she found herself in yet another unfamiliar room and began to panic. She went to sit up in bed, but upon moving, was stopped as a sharp stabbing pain pierced through her side and shoulder. Moaning slightly in pain, she stopped trying to move and through watery eyes, settled for looking around to see where she was.

The cold air was coming through the gossamer curtains lining the open window to her left. She appeared to be in a bedroom, tucked up under covers and wearing a set of pajamas that weren’t hers. Someone had dressed her while she was unconscious. That thought almost caused her to start hyperventilating, but the sharp pain in her side reminded her to stay calm and breathe slowly.

She tried to remember how she got here. The last thing she remembered was George getting thrown into a wall by Lucius Malfoy. George. Fred.

If George was there, there was a large chance that Fred might have been nearby. Maybe they had rescued her. Or maybe someone else had helped her and the twins had been captured. She needed to make sure they were both alright.

Y/n had been positioned on her side and deduced that due to her shoulder she probably wouldn’t be able to roll over. She did need to get out of this bed though and figure out what was going on.

Very, very, slowly, Y/n began to shuffle her way out of the bed, trying desperately to silence her gasps of pain. She had managed to flip her knee over the side and land upright on the floor, and then looked up to see a familiar red-haired man slumped over the bed. Her heart began to beat faster.

Fred had fallen asleep by her bedside, the sounds of his breathing barely audible over the wind. The only way Y/n was able to tell he was alive was through the soft rise and fall of his back. She did not want to wake him however.

As much as she then tried to deny it to herself, feelings from months of missing him rushed back to her. She wanted nothing more than to stagger across the bed to him and kiss him. But she had no idea of why he was here.

Was he only there because he felt guilty? Was he there on George’s orders, only to make sure she was still breathing as a favor to him? Had George gotten hurt trying to rescue her, and Fred was only here so that his sacrifice wasn’t in vain?

All these possibilities swirled around her mind, and further convinced her not to wake him. She needed to find George.

Y/n was able to use her non-injured arm to get up onto her feet, but she was very unsteady. Her legs felt like lead, and her head began to spin as she took several steps.

She had gotten halfway across the room when a large wave of dizziness overcame her, and she tumbled right down to the floor. White overcame her vision as her crash jolted her injuries, and if the loud noise hadn’t woken Fred up, her cries of pain definitely did.

“Y/n!” Fred was at her side in a moment, carefully trying to turn her over up off the ground.

“What are you doing? You could hurt yourself even more. Dammit woman, I…” He trailed off as he saw her tears of pain.

His voice immediately went softer.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He cradled Y/n into his body as gently as possible and began to lift her back into the bed. She couldn’t help but whimper at the movements, but her vision was becoming foggier, the urge to slip into unconsciousness growing stronger by the second.

Fred managed to place her under the covers back in her original position without any more jolts. Y/n tried to look back to see his face but was immediately stopped by his hands. He came around to the other side of the bed, so she wasn’t straining.

“Trying to give me a heart attack again woman, you would think I did something horrible to you.” Even though he said it light-heartedly the truthfulness of the words still hurt him.

“Fred I…” She trailed off as tiredness was overtaking her.

“Shhh, it’s alright.” Fred smoothed her hair back off her face. “You can berate me all you want when you’ve had some more sleep. I’m going to go and get some more bandages, but I’ll be back soon.”

The fatigue finally won out and she fell into unconsciousness.

The blooming red on her bandages made Fred sigh deeply. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead before getting up and walking out of the room.

He was met by the sight of George coming up the stairs.

“I heard a crash. Is everything alright?”

“I fell asleep and Y/n tried to get up. She only made a couple steps before she fell over. She’s very weak still. I think she reopened some of the cuts. I’m just going to get more bandages.”

It seemed that the knife Rookwood had used on her was enchanted. Despite the complex spell work performed on her, Y/n’s cuts were still very slow to heal and opened at the slightest stretch. It had taken many blood replenishing potions to stop the shock from the blood loss.

George turned and walked down with him into the kitchen. “How did she react when she saw you?”

He gritted out, “She was anxious. The fall probably didn’t help that though. I don’t think she wanted to wake me.”

“She’s probably just confused as to what’s going on. It’ll get better when she understands.”

Fred turned sharply to face him,

“Will it? She didn’t try not to wake me because she was confused. She hates me. She probably couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me. I don’t blame her.”

He grabbed several bandages out of the cupboard and shoved them at George.

“Here, grab Fleur and give these to her. I doubt Y/n will want me to see her. I’m going for a walk.”

_____________________________________________________________

The next time Y/n woke, the window was closed, and the blonde figure of Fleur was setting down a tray on the side table.

“Good morning, Y/n. I’m glad to z’e you are up.”

“Fleur? Where am I?”

“Shell c’ottage. You are in ze guest bedroom. You ‘ave been ‘ere for ze’veral days.”

Y/n tried to sit up, with more success than last time.

“Days? What do you mean days? Where’s Fred?”

Fleur lightly pushed her back down to the bed.

“Gentl’y now. Or you will break open z’e wound again. He is out walking I z’ink. George is in ze ‘ouse though. It might be better if he explains it.”

“Could you get him please. I need to thank him for helping me.”

“O’f course Cherie. Just a momen’t.”

Y/n fiddled with her hands as Fleur glided out the room. At least she was able to move around without sharp pain through her shoulder blade. She must have fractured something when they had apparated her to the Manor. She looked up as George walked in the room.

“I heard someone was in dire need of my company.” George smirked

In her excitement, Y/n made another move to get up.

“George! Come here!”

“Oi don’t move now or Fleur’ll yell my other ear off.”

He picked up his pace and came to the side of the bed.

George leaned down over the bed and hugged her. Y/n was relieved to see and touch him again. After the breakup, she had not only lost her boyfriend, but one of her best friends as well.

“You should have seen the speech she gave Fred after you got up the first time. You can tell she’s part Veela, gets scary when she’s angry. Don’t know how Bill does it.”

He turned serious as he pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You alright though? You scared me back there.”

“I’m okay. Thanks for rescuing me.” She scanned him up and down, “Were you hurt?”

“Me hurt? Nah, I’m too manly for that.” Y/n rolled her eyes as she laughed, “And it was a joint effort, Fred drove the whole mission really.”

“Fred was there?”

“Yup. Stormed in and saved us both really. Lucius had me cornered.”

“Oh,” Her eyes began to swim with guilty tears. “I’m so sorry. You both could have been hurt or killed and it would have been my fault. If I had just covered my stupid bloody tracks, they wouldn’t have found me.”

She hung her head, and George put a hand on her arm.

“Y/n, it’s not your fault. We would have been in way worse trouble if we hadn’t been prepared. Fred wouldn’t have hesitated to say anything to stop you from being hurt.”

“No, he wouldn’t, I’m not worth that. He would never have picked me over Harry.”

He raised his eyebrows at her,

“Oh, wouldn’t he? As soon as you sent that Patronus, he went in, no second thoughts. It was all Mum and Dad could do to stop him from apparating off as soon as he told them where he was going. I honestly thought he was going to murder Malfoy when he came in.”

Y/n’s face betrayed that she was still not convinced. George pressed on.

“He broke it off with you to protect you, despite my saying it was a dreadful idea might I add. It nearly killed him to do it. He was a wreck while you were gone. He honestly thought you’d be safer if you were in hiding and not associating with blood traitors.”

Y/n sat back for a moment. It explained his reaction to finding her on the floor. Him coming to get her. How he had sent her away. Finding out it was only to protect her made her chest ache. It started a whole new wave of tears. All the nights missing him. Moving around listlessly around the countryside. It could all have been avoided.

She shook her head through the sobs, “He’s so dumb.”

“I told him that as well. Although it’s not his fault I got both the brains and the looks.”

Y/n laughed shakily.

“I guess I should probably go find him and straighten everything out.”

“Please do. He’s been moping around the cottage since we got here, and Fleur will probably hex him if he doesn’t stop being grouchy.”

“Alright then. Let’s go find him. Can you help me up?” She stretched out a hand to him.

“As long as we go slow and Fleur doesn’t catch us, absolutely.”

_____________________________________________________________

After spending a long time carefully making their way down the stairs and out the front door, George began leading Y/n down the beach. He had had to hold onto her tightly, as her unsteady legs coupled with the strong wind and dips of the sand had her stumbling often.

“You sure you don’t just want to wait for him to get back? It’s going to be a hell of a lot easier for you. I didn’t realise how unsteady you’d be, it’s probably not even good for you to be out here.” He looked back to the cottage.

“George, I need to see him. If you don’t want to come that’s fine, but I’m going to keep going.”

He sighed. “Bloody stubborn you are. Alright, we’ll keep going. But I mean it, if we run into Fleur, you forced me against my will to bring you out here.”

They kept walking across the sand for another twenty minutes until she saw him in the distance.

“Found him.” George looked up from his careful watch for possible trip hazards to see his brother, sitting on an aged fallen tree trunk, overlooking the bay.

Y/n had a sharp intake of breath.

“Do you still want to do this? If it’s too much we can go back.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Alright then. Fred!”

Fred turned to see them both. Although he was far away, Y/n could see his face turn to a frown. Fred got up off the petrified wood and started walking towards them. Y/n’s chest ached again as she thought of being in his arms.

“We couldn’t have just walked to him?”

“You already are looking white as a sheet, I don’t need you collapsing on me where I can’t get you into the house easily.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I’m not going to…”

The sound of sand crunching caused them to turn back to see Fred in front of them. His face was cold and he snarked at George.

“What are you playing at, bringing her out here? She needs rest, not another bloody collapse. Take her inside, now.”

He sounded so harsh, Y/n began to doubt if George was actually telling the truth. He hadn’t even looked at her. In fact, he was keeping his eyes directly on his twin, not even giving her a glance. Her fears were assuaged. If he didn’t care, he would have had the decency to look at her. Despite the cool of the wind, she felt her cheeks begin to flush in anger.

“Y/n wanted to come and speak to you. I was merely making sure she didn’t crawl her way across the sand. But now that you’re here, I don’t need to do that anymore.” He smiled and let go of her arm.

“I’ll be inside if you need me.” He began walking off back to the cottage, leaving the pair alone together on the beach.

“George!” Fred tried to call after his brother, but he didn’t listen. Fred turned to Y/n.

“You need to get inside, there’s a storm moving in. You can berate me as we walk.”

He walked a few steps in front of her, but stopped when he realised she wasn’t following. He turned to face her.

Y/n exploded as he finally looked at her. Anger and pain from all the nights spent alone burned in her in full force.

“Months! Months I have spent away from you, all this time, and all you can do is lecture me about not staying in bed. REALLY? I am so angry with you!”

Fred looked back at her, seemingly dumbfounded.

“So many nights wondering what the hell I did wrong, and all I get is a scolding. I traveled all around Britain trying to forget what you had done to me, what you had made me feel, and all I get is a “you can berate me as we walk”’?" She made imaginary quotation marks with her fingers.

"I will bloody well berate you wherever I want Fred Weasley. How dare you act as though this means nothing? I…"

Y/n went to take a step forward and lost her footing. Before she could hit the sand however, he caught her and pulled her upright. Fred had seemed to find his tongue again.

"IT’S BECAUSE IT MEANS EVERYTHING! That’s why I need to make sure you are getting inside and better!"

He was growing angry as well.

"I condemned you to torture just by being with you! You have been tortured because I did not protect you! That was my job, to protect you! AND I FAILED. I made a call and it was wrong, so don’t expect me to not try and make up for everything I have done to you, because I won’t. I am going to spend every minute of the rest of my life regretting that stupid decision, so forgive me if that guilt involves me making sure you are safe."

His chest was heaving. He dropped her wrist from where he had been holding it as his body almost began to curve in on itself.

Y/n reached up and cupped his cheek. His confession had made her begin to cry again. She took a deep breath and willed herself to keep a steady voice.

"It is not your fault." He would not meet her eyes.

"Look at me," she all but whispered to him, "Please,"

He looked back up to her.

"It is not your fault. None of this is your fault. I can’t say that making me leave was the best decision, but you cannot take this onto your shoulders. You did what you thought was best and tried to protect me as much as you could. I don’t agree with it, but I can’t allow you to take blame like that. Okay? You are not at fault for this."

All that was keeping himself up seemed to disappear as he almost collapsed and bought his arms around her, bringing her tightly into his chest. She was openly crying into his shirt, small sobs wracking her body as all the emotional pain she had felt from the last two months drained out of her.

"I’m so sorry."

She nodded her acknowledgment into his chest. They stood there, arms wrapped around the other, almost clinging for dear life. Small taps of cold began to fall onto her scalp. She pulled back slightly and looked up.

It had begun to rain.

"I need to get you back inside. I like my Y/n at room temperature, not as a popsicle."

She nodded and started trying to walk back, but her knee gave way as she took the first step. Fred caught her again.

"Remind me to kill George for letting you out here like this. Come on, I’ll carry you."

Before she could protest, he had swept her up into his arms, and was walking back to the cottage. She didn’t have the energy to fight herself and ended up leaning into him as he walked. Her heart swooped when she thought back to what he said, “My Y/n.”. Was he just saying that though or were they back together? She needed to know before she got her heart broken again.

They were nearly at the cottage. She wanted to ask him this out here before they got inside. That way she would have time to compose herself before she saw the others.

“Fred, can you put me down?” She had to talk loudly over the rain.

“We are nearly there, just hold on.”

“No, I need to say something now.” She wriggled in his grasp, and managed to slip down to the sand, landing softly as he tried to catch her.

“Y/n we need to get inside, you’re going to catch your death out here!”

“Just wait!” she turned to face him. Her voice was getting louder over the rain,

“George told me something and I need to know if it’s true. Do you love me or is it over? If you don’t have feelings for me anymore that’s fine, I just need to know. Please Fred.”

He shook his head in annoyance and shouted as lightning crackled across the sky.

“Dammit woman, I never stopped! I thought that was obvious!”

“So you still…”

“Of course I still love you!”

She reached up and crashed his lips down to hers. He immediately reciprocated. His arms circled around her and up into her hair once more, pulling her deeper into the kiss. She was soaked from the rain and unsteady as the wind felt like it was blowing through her, but it didn’t matter because he was clinging to her like she was a lifeline.

After a minute, he pulled back and picked her up again, without giving her time to say anything. He paced to the cottage's door and turned the handle, carefully carrying her inside.

As they entered, Fleur’s shrill voice began echoing around the cottage, but it didn’t matter. She looked up to see Fred smiling down at her. All was right in her world again.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #george weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter #whump fic #x reader #angst

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mangozcat · 4 years

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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. lee donghyuck x fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. fluff, heavy angst, smut 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you were forced in an awkward spot when your best friend, of which you had fallen in love with somewhere along the road, got a girlfriend. his attention was forced from your morning coffee runs and rose petal scent to the way her eyes lit up every time he gave her a kiss on the cheek. so when you finally get some time to catch up with your best friend, you eagerly took the opportunity, realizing just how much spending time with him, being forced to stay as friends, was breaking your heart. so you finally did it; you came clean to the boy of your dreams.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆. haechan’s hand was interlocked with hers, eyes glowing as they discussed how nice the scented candles on display smelled. together, they seemed like the perfect image of a beautiful couple out on a mission to buy as many holiday gifts as they could. so, together, they wandered around the bath and body works inside the mall, leaving you standing at the pretzel stand in the middle of the in-door courtyard.

yeah, you were certainly third wheeling.

honestly, you weren’t sure why you had agreed to come along in the first place. you knew watching them interact and share the occasional kiss would only make your heart hurt more. and it certainly had. maybe you needed to work on your ability to say “no” aloud, but how could you, when haechan had given you that innocent look that made him look like a lost puppy? as expected, you lost.

at least you had bought a pretzel. that seemed like the highlight of this whole trip. when they disappeared inside, you decided to wander into your own store, browsing the shoes upon the shelves. maybe you’d treat yourself for all the heartache you endured (which was your fault, though you liked it better when you were in denial.)

you still don’t know when it happened.

one day, your friendship with haechan was normal, simply platonic. the two of you met in high school, stuck in some classes together. you were paired with him for a project, and when he came over to your place, two coffee’s in hand, you had decided he was a keeper.

he even introduced you to his closest friends, and you were surprised to find how well you worked together. renjun and jaemin, two of his friends, had even made a bet about who would give in first. they didn’t necessarily doubt that guys and girls could be friends, but when they saw your chemistry, they knew it would incredibly stupid if you didn’t start dating.

but the two of you had built this idea in your mind that your relationship was simply platonic. even when the two of you had shared a breathtaking kiss during a game of spin the bottle, neither of you changed your minds. just a friendship, that’s all you guys thought of it.

just a friendship.

from then, you guys had the occasional sleepover and movie night. you and haechan were as close as you could be, and you were very content with your friendship.

but then your perspective changed. when you cuddled, and his hands rested on your sides, you always noticed your heartbeat speed up drastically. every time you woke up to his smell, his sleepy smile and tired groans, you felt so happy. it was such a strange attraction for you, to learn that you were falling in love with your best friend with sparkling eyes and a bright smile. every time he was near you, you seemed to pick up this spark, always finding yourself stuck in this never-ending loop of him.

and then your world cracked.

haechan came over to your apartment one morning with a coffee in his hand, a smile etched on his lips. he seemed to excited, and for what? you weren’t entirely sure. and then he revealed to you that he had found a girl that caught his eye, and wanted you to help him choose a date location.

it all felt wrong. the way you agreed so quickly, the fake smiles you had to send to him to mask your disappointment, and how jealous you were that he was stolen from you, even though he was never yours to begin with. it should’ve been you, you had thought at the time.

it should’ve been you that got roses, that got a nice night at some nice diner with haechan, and it should’ve been you he announced to be his girlfriend the next week.

he never would know how painful it was for you. after all, how could he? you were a master of pretending, and you had been doing it for two years. it wasn’t enjoyable, nor was it easy to hide how lost you were every time you cried in jaemin’s arms about how you had lost him; how you had lost the boy of your dreams, and also your best friend.

your relationship would never be the same, especially since his eyes weren’t on you anymore, his arms weren’t wrapped around you as you watched movies, nor did he ever sleep in the same bed as you. the two of you had lost the bond that took oh-so long to develop, and you weren’t too sure if you’d ever be able to spark it again.

the three of you ended up meeting again an hour later, bringing together all of your combined gifts and placing them in haechan’s car. haechan’s girlfriend, mini, enthusiastically rambled on about how excited she was to get home and start decorating her apartment for christmas. you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lit up when he gazed at her, and how invested in the topic he seemed.

you had nothing against mini. in fact, the two of you were decent friends. she was nice and sweet and honestly held no ill intent. it was strange, enjoyable, and painful knowing that you got along with the girl that stole away your haechan. he wasn’t yours to begin with, you had to remind yourself, he doesn’t belong to you.

“what about you?” mini asked you, a smile on her face. her hair was shoulder length, a cute style you thought fit her quite well. short and well shaped bangs adorned her forehead and you were reminded of how pretty she was. green eyes, light pink cheeks and puffy lips, she was quite a stunner.

“what’s up?” you asked, knitting your eyebrows together. perhaps you had zoned out for a little longer than expected. mini shook her head, knowing a little too well that you had done this since the two of you met. you were never there, always in your own little world.

“I asked if you were excited to decorate,” mini reminded politely. at some point, haechan had sneaked off to the bathroom, leaving you and mini alone for a minute or two.

“oh!” you exclaimed, “a bit? I’m certainly not hyped to get out my decorations or put in the effort to put them up, but I’m excited for the end result. I always loved the lights especially, they’re always so stunning and magical to me.”

she let out a small laugh, accepting your honesty. “me too, to be honest. I only really enjoy the decorating part because of my mom,” she said, a fond smile appearing on her face at the mention of her mother. “she made us put up decorations every year, and our house always looked like a mess. but it was something we all did together, at least.”

mini never really talked to you about her family, but it was nice to hear about. often times, the two of you only spoke about casual things (most of which involved haechan), and it never really got deeper than that. it was strangely nice, you noticed.

when haechan returned from the bathroom, shooting you both a dazzling smile and asking if you were ready to leave, you and mini nodded eagerly. getting in his car and getting ready to drive back to your apartments, you couldn’t help but notice the way haechan’s fingers laced with hers over the middle compartment.

and suddenly, the pain was back.

with mini living closest to the mall, she had been dropped off first. and as perfect as it had seemed, you and haechan were left alone, the man driving you home whilst quietly humming along to the song on the radio. his fingers idly drummed against the steering wheel and you were left to bask in the silence of the moment, staring out the window.

“we used to listen to this song,” he finally said, finger drifting over to turn up the music. when you heard the song, a soft smile appeared on your face as you heard the soft tunes in your ears. “when we met, specifically.”

you remembered. how could you forget? haechan would always stumble into your appartment with his notebook, ready to study with you. and when the two of you began, he’d put on some playlist of his. you always loved this song in specific, and it got to the point where he played it on loop, turning the sound down as to not dull your mind from listening to it on repeat.

“I still love it,” you smiled slightly, tilting your head back against the seat. closing your eyes, you listened to the song, getting lost in the familar lyrics.

“yeah, me too.”

you wanted to talk to him like you used to. wanted to claim that the silence was comfortable, and that you didn’t need to say anything out loud to feel content with your friendship. yet, you couldn’t. it felt forced, the small conversation, and it quickly died out. the silence was awkward, and you were fearful of what that meant.

you had hoped it would never get to this point. where you were unfamiliar with alone time, and were lost when it came to talking to him whilst alone. it never felt like the two of you actually hung out, and were simply clinging onto what you thought was familiar; each other.

but you weren’t familar anymore and holding on was hopeless, you knew. the two of you were too scared to move on, to put each other in the past and move onto better things, less painful things. it was unfixable.

but yet, despite knowing that, your heart still jumped when he said, “I miss spending time with you, y’know.” you had glanced over at the boy, his eyes still on the road. “I heard there’s a firework show in town later this week. would you-“ he paused, lost in how to ask for one simple thing; to accompany him to the last set of normality he could remember, -“I don’t know, maybe, would you want to go with me?”

you smiled, “like old times?”

he finally looked over at you when he came to a stop at a red light. smiling, he nodded, “just like old times.”

preview | part one | part two

#nct #writing #kpop #nct haechan smut #nct haechan #lee haechan #haechan smut #haechan #nct haechan fluff #fluff #haechan fluff #nct dream #nct 127

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