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callmeshakespurr · 3 years

Note

Hey, if you're requests are open could you do a Rick Flag × Male Villian Reader (fluff) idk something cute where Rick Flag ends up falling in love with Male Reader, and the feeling is mutual. Idk you can fo what you want with it. ❤

Rick Flag x Male Reader

Requested: yes

Category: fluff, just a little bit of angst

Warnings: slight torture (?), i mention a knife like,, once

Note: I haven’t watched Suicide Squad in some time, so this could’ve turned out just the tiniest bit yandere, I hope you don’t mind! Also- I kinda struggled with this cause its my first time writing an actual one shot, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways (:

Tysm for requesting, hope you enjoy it <3

“Where is he?”, Amanda Waller called out as she walked down the hallway, towards the high security room you were currently kept in — Colonal Richard ‘Rick’ Flag not far behind her.

Her call grabbed the attention of the two guards, who stood in front of your cell.

“Is he in there?”, Amanda asked again, approaching the door with fast steps. One of the guards nodded and opened the thick metal door to let the director and the colonel in.

Amanda Waller had tried to get her hands on you for almost five years now, after you first made an apperiance in a club, killing two people. After that, several assassinations followed. Nobody knew who you exactly were, what you looked like, who you worked for; you were like a shadow — what people then came to call you, Shadow.

The major reason of why nobody could get a hold of you even in the slightest bit, was because you always vanished before anybody could even spot you.

After two years of not being able to catch you, the police gave up on further investigation in your cases. Amanda didn’t break so easily though. She wanted you in one of those cells she kept so many freaks in already, and she wasn’t going to give up until she had you sitting behind one of those metal doors, unable to escape her.

After all these years of going after you, she did manage to find out two major things about you. Why you always managed to escape without anyone catching a glimpse of you, and what your weakness was.

All these things led to the present situation.

You sat in a dark room, the only light source being a small lamp, dangling from the ceiling. Your ankles were tightly cuffed to the chair you were sitting on, on your wrists and neck you felt something cold and heavy, which seemed to send small electric shocks through your body every few seconds.

You weren’t sure where you exactly were, since you passed out before they got you. Hell, you didn’t even know who ‘they’ were.

You closed your eyes, trying to concentrate on your thoughts, which was not as easy as you hoped it would be. To say that you were in pain was an understatement. The electricity flowing through your body kept you from thinking straight, and send a wave of pure pain through your limbs with every shock you got.

A female voice ripped you from your trance, and you slowly opened your eyes again, head still hanging low. You knew that voice and you knew that you didn’t stand a chance anymore.

“Your powers won’t work anymore, unless i allow you to use them, so don’t even try.”, that voice belonged to none other than Amanda Waller, probably the only person on this planet you actually feared. You were never scared of what her minions could do to you, no. You were scared of what she could do to you if she ever managed to get you — which almost happened on several occasions.

You clenched your fists, trying to ignore the pain that came over you again, as you frantically tried to somehow sort your thoughts and find a way out of this, but nothing seemed to work. There was no way out of this. There was no escaping this. The feeling of helplessness washed over you, a feeling you didn’t like at all.

“You’re Y/N L/N, you’re a teleporter, thats how you managed to always vanish before the police got to the crime scene”, Amanda spoke, watching you as you sat there on the chair, staring at the ground, unable to move a single muscle. “It took me some time, but i managed to figure out how to block your powers”, she continued, taking slow steps towards you “Teleporters are extremely sensitive to electricity, some mightve even already died due to the constant pain if they were in your place.” She stopped right in front of you, looking down at your slumped figure, the only thing restraining you from falling over being the thick metallic handcuffs that kept your hands tied behind the chair.

Amanda grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at her. Your sight was blurry and it cost you a lot of strength to even keep your eyes open, but you did manage to make out the silhouette of a rather tall person standing at the entrance of the cell, watching the whole scene, before your focus was back on the woman in front of you. “You’re actually a very pretty boy, Y/N, and very smart too, it’s a shame that you decided to end up like this.”, she said, before letting your face go. “Rick, take him to get the injection, then get his things and introduce him to the team. After that, you can take him to his provided cell.”

The man standing at the door — Rick, you assumed — made his way towards you, as Waller left the room, leaving you to the colonel.

Rick helped you out of the cuffs, that kept you strapped to the chair. Looking at you, he almost felt bad, you looked so drained and helpless. He had never exactly agreed with anything Amanda Waller did, but seeing what just a few hours under her control did with you was another level of not agreeing with something she did.

“Can you stand?”, the colonel asked and you nodded, slowly rising from the chair. Your legs wobbled beneath your weight and you instinctively grabbed onto whats next to you, which just so happened to be Ricks Arm.

After making sure you had gathered enough strength, he began to walk with you towards the door.

time skip

It’s been a little over a week now since they’ve brought you here — you think. Every day was the same. Sitting on the cold floor of your cell, staring at the camera in the corner of your ceiling, some guard bringing you food, you not eating it, some guard taking it away again and reporting everything to someone, more staring at the camera, someone bringing you food again, you not eating it again, the guard taking it away again and reporting everything, all over again, everyday.

The only slightest bit good and entertaining thing was the colonel — Rick Flag, as you learned was his name — checking up on you every now and then when he didn’t have anything better to do. You didn’t quite understand why Rick was making efforts to look after you, just for you to not answer his questions anyways, but you appreciated it. It made everything a little more bearable.

Of course, you were one of the bad guys, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a life outside of assassinations.

When you weren’t working for other bad guys, you loved to just sit in your apartment and read, you loved to go onto high buildings and watch over the city. You dreamed of leaving everything behind and exploring the world someday. You worked at your favourite coffee shop, hell you even had a cat. The thought of your only friend being probably already dead or suffering made you sad, but what could you do about it?

Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t picked the path you were on, but looking back at the time you chose to work for the bad guys, you didn’t really have a choice.

Your train of thoughts was interrupted, when you heard the door to your cell open. Hoping it would be Rick, you looked up, your eyes only half open from the lack of strength you had. What you did not expect was to see Amanda Waller standing in front of you, Rick Flag behind her.

“Stand up”, the woman demanded. You listened, as it was of no use to resist her orders. You slowly got up on your feet, which didn’t last long, since you almost immediately fell over, landing painfully hard on your knees. To your suprise, Rick immediately rushed to your side, helping you stand up again.

“I don’t need him on missions like this”, Waller spoke as she watched you lean onto Rick for support. “Take him to the base, the council and I will be waiting there in the meeting room for him.” With that, Waller left again.

The way to the car wasn’t long, but with you almost not being able to stand on you own, let alone walk on your own, it took a little longer, which only fueled your anxiety. The ride to the base was even worse though, since nobody talked and you had five guards sitting around you.

Finally arriving at the door of the meeting room, which was located in the base, the two guards standing in front of it immediately opened the door as soon as they saw the colonel.

The room was quiet at an instance, when you stepped a food inside, Rick following very close behind you — just in case something should happen.

Amanda Waller stood in front of a group of suit wearing men who all sat at one big round table, most likely discussing something. She gestured you to come next to her, to which you complied.

“And who is this now, Director Waller? A new addition to your group of- freaks?”, asked one of the men as he looked you up and down, probably doubting that someone like you could be much of an good asset.

“This, Gentlemen,”, she grabbed your arm and moved you a little forward, making you almost tumble “is Y/N L/N or ‘Shadow’, he was an assassin for almost five years now, working for several other bad guys. Nobody got a hold of him till now due to his teleporting ability. He has over a hundred confirmed kills and not once did anyone ever get near him. I’m using these electric cuffs”, she grabbed your arm again and lifted it up to present the metal cuff, which was secured around your arm “to block his powers, which means he cannot teleport, as long as the electric shocks are on full power. As soon as I turn down the power a little, he can use his power, it is more draining and limited to a certain radius, but it works. I have him under full control and I want him on the team.” Murmurs broke out between the people in the room, as soon as she finished.

“I’m sorry, director, but do you really think it’s a good idea to put another- another misfit on that team? They’re bad guys and will always stay bad guys, and their freaky abilities make them even more dangerous.”, one of the men in suits spoke.

“As I said, I have him under full control, gentlemen. Let me demonstrate.”, Amanda spoke, turning to you, as the people sitting at the table sat back.

Waller took out some kind of remote and tapped on something. First your body tensed due to all the stress and pain you were under at the moment, but as soon as Amanda tapped on the remote, the electric shocks suddenly weren’t as intense as they were before, and your whole body relaxed, your eyes almost watering due to the wave of relief washing over you.

Rick was more than tense while watched the whole situation, only realizing in how much pain you actually were when Waller turned down the intensity of the electric shocks emmitting from the metallic cuffs you were wearing.

Waller looked you in the eyes with a serious expression on her face. “You disobey, you die, got that?” And suddenly you remembered the injection they gave you, when they first brought you here.

Seeing you had no other choice than obeying her, you simply gave her a small nod and looked around the room, taking in every detail. You looked at the small table in front of you, spotting a sharp knife, which you figured was put there by Amanda specifically for you in this exact situation.

With fast movements, you grabbed the knife and teleported to the other side of the room, holding the knife to one of the mens throat. Everyone in the room stiffened even more, and you heard at least three guns clicking.

Looking up, your eyes met Rick’s, before you looked over to Waller, who was already fixated on you. You slowly pressed the knife more against the man’s throat, wanting to see what Waller was going to do. The next electric shock came and you almost yelled out in pain, letting the knife fall, teleporting back to Waller and falling to your knees, clutching the metal around your neck.

Rick wanted to rush to help you, but was quickly held back by Amanda, gesturing him to wait.

“As you can see, I can control his powers however i want to, and should he disobey in any way, or should his powers bolt”, she tilted your head with her finger, than pressed onto the spot on your neck where they injected you, “he dies.”

Still staring at the ground, you swallowed harshly. You’ve never wanted to go back in time and undo all the bad things that happened so badly like in this specific moment. Maybe if you’re parents hadn’t ever found about your ability, you would still be at home, with your family, not here, being tortured by some government lady who wanted to use you as a weapon.

“There’s one more thing. I don’t need him on any mission in this shape. He needs to recover, quickly, and while doing so, I want him under Rick Flags complete supervision. It might cost a little more effort, but think about of how much use he will be for us”, Amanda said, a mischievous expression crossing her face for a few seconds, that going unnoticed by you and pretty much everyone else in the room.

time skip

Three whole months had passed. You’ve been staying with Rick ever since Amanda Waller announced that he had to fully supervise you.

The time you spent with Rick made you feel as if everything wasn’t so bad after all. Occasional talking here and there, Rick cooking something for the both of you every now and then, you almost felt normal again — weren’t there the electric cuffs reminding you of what was real every few minutes.

Over the past three months, your sleep only got worse. You got used to the constant pain by now, but the electricity didn’t only affect you physically, it also messed up your thoughts like hell. Sometimes you didn’t know where up and down was anymore, everything was all over the place inside your mind.

That was also the reason, you were up right now, in the middle of the night, sitting at the big window in your bedroom, looking over the city. You hugged your knees tightly to your chest, and rested you chin on them, letting a few tears slip. You hadn’t cried in a long time, but you were just so exhausted. You were never this close to giving up than right now. Nothing seemed to ever be okay again, you couldn’t do anything but accept your fate.

Being to entangled in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear your bedroom door open.

It didn’t take Rick a long time to spot you in your place at the window. He just came home from a mission that Amanda Waller had wanted you on, but Rick insisted on giving you a little more time to deal with everything.

The tall man closed the door as quietly as he could behind him, which seemed to not be quiet enough, since you jumped slightly at the noise, quickly standing up and turning around. Rick gave you an apologetic look, before slowly walking towards you, “I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked, I just wanted to check up on you and see if you’re alright-“ “It’s fine, I’m fine”, you interrupted him, wiping your tears quickly, taking a deep breath.

Rick frowned, he had never seen you cry before. He cared too much for you and he knew it, he just couldn’t help himself. Stopping in front of you, he looked down at you, only for his eyes to meet yours. For a moment, you both got lost in each others eyes, before you ripped your gaze away, looking to the side.

“Do you want anything else from me?”, you asked shakily, getting a little nervous with his burning stare on you.

“I actually do, yes-“, he hesitated for a moment. You looked up at him with a questioning expression. “Close your eyes”, you complied, closing your eyes slightly, one hand moving to hold onto Rick’s shirt so you didn’t lose your balance. You felt him lean down slightly, till you could fell his warm breath on your cheek. You surpressed a shiver, as he carefully tilted your head.

Now, you didn’t really know what to expect; you and Rick had gotten closer but you weren’t sure, if there were actual romantic feelings, or if he just pitied you, so a kiss wasn’t exactly what you expected. But you definitely would’ve expected it more than what happened next.

A small ‘click’ echoed through the dark room, the next thing you knew was, that all the pain suddenly disappeared. Your eyes watered when you felt Rick’s fingers carefully removing the heavy metallic cuffs around your wrists and neco, pure relief washing over you. Your leaned your body onto Rick’s, unable to support your own weight for a few moments.

When you had finally gained control over your own body again, you moved back a few centimetres and looked up to Rick, who met your confused eyes. “I couldn’t bear to see you in so much pain any longer, so I triedmy best to convince her and I’d say I’m lucky that she trusts me with you.”, the colonel smiled a little, raising a hand to softly carress your cheek. Your eyes widened. He quickly removed his hand again and apologized, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Rick took a step back, still being careful so you didn’t lose balance again, “I should go, and you should sleep, you need to be well rested and-“

You were fast to interrupt him by taking a quick step towards him, getting a little on your tiptoes, before pressing a small kiss to Rick’s lips. You carefully looked him in the eyes again, “I don’t know either, but it just felt like the right thing to do.”

It took the man a few seconds to process what just happened, but when he did, he was quick to kiss you again, his soft lips over yours, moving slowly, as you kissed back. He put his hands on your waist, while you locked yours behind his neck. You kissed for a few moments, before the both of you had to breathe again. “Thank you”, you whispered against Rick’s lips, before receiving another small peck. “Sleep with me tonight?”, he asked quietly, getting lost in your eyes again. You gave him a small nod, allowing him to pick you up and carry you to his room, both of you smiling as you fell onto the mattress.

#suicide squad #rick flag #y/n #rick flag x male reader #male reader

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years

Text

Nervous

Hello! This is honestly just a bunch of fluff (a tiny bit of angst bc Spencer worries about everything) and the reader being very nervous! I am currently writing a sequel to take place directly after this one! Read part two here!

Summary: Reader is arrested by the BAU! Little do they know, she is dating the one agent who is currently on medical leave...

warnings: none!

Word Count: 4954

“Are you sure you can pick her up today?” You are currently running around your apartment, phone held to your ear with your shoulder. You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, but first you have to drop your daughter off at school, and you’re running very late.

“Babe, yes. I’m almost completely healed and I don’t go back to work until tomorrow. I’ll pick her up after school and then meet you at your apartment when you’re done working. Okay?” Thank God for Spencer Reid. He has been on medical leave for 5 days, slowly going insane. But, it meant more time for you and Lily to spend with him, so you’re not complaining.

“That’s perfect, thank you so much! I gotta go, I love you!” You are in such a daze, you don’t stop to think about the three words that just came out of your mouth. You hang up before Spencer can respond as you wrestle with your six year old to put shoes on. Grabbing both of your coats, you run out the door.

You met Spencer Reid 9 months ago when he came into the hospital you work in with a concussion and some pretty bad bruises. It was really a chance meeting. Normally, you don’t even deal with patients because you work in research. But, your best friend asked you to run some lab results to a patient’s room and you couldn’t say no. Dr. Spencer Reid happened to be that patient.

He wasn’t supposed to be in the room, but apparently something happened with the CT schedule, and he was done earlier than expected. So, instead of simply dropping off forms in an empty room, you hit a man with a door. Why he was standing behind the door is still a mystery to you, but you felt awful. This man is in the hospital and to make matters worse, you come along and hit him! With a door! You offered to get him some coffee as an apology, and in his concussed state he said “Only if we can go together.” You’ve since realized that was smoother than he normally acts, but you don’t care. He is the most lovable man you’ve ever met.

You met up for coffee three days later, and have been dating ever since. He met your daughter, Lily, on the second date. They clicked instantly. You knew then and there that you would love this man forever. You have not, however, actually said I love you before this morning. But, you’re still in too much of a rush to stop and think about it… or even realize it happened.

You pull into the parking garage at the hospital 7 minutes late. Honestly, better than you expected. The morning flies by as you work on research grants and hospital studies. All in all, a pretty average day. That is, until you walk back into the building from your lunch break.

You don’t get a lot of visitors in the research wing, so it’s strange to see two pretty official looking individuals at the front desk. It’s even stranger to hear your name come out of one of their mouths.

“Hi there. We are Agents Morgan and Rossi from the FBI. We’re looking Ms. Y/N L/N. Is she here?” That must have been Morgan talking.

Spencer has told you a lot about his team. You feel like you know them all already with how many stories he’s told you. You’ve been hesitant to meet them though because of Lily. You don’t want her to get too attached to him and his friends if things were to go sideways. You haven’t really dated anyone since her father, so you’re a bit nervous. Spencer, of course, completely understands. He just wants you to be happy. It’s hard not to love him even more at the thought.

You are immediately thrown into a panic at the sight of the two agents. Your thoughts are running wild with possibilities. They must be here because something happened to Spencer. Wait. That doesn’t make sense. He’s not even working today.

Your panicked train of thought pulls to a stop when the two agents walk up to you. “Ms. L/N? Can we speak with you for a moment?” You nod, leading them toward your office.

“Of course. My office is just down the hall.” You can’t help but feel nervous at the prospect of meeting Spencer’s coworkers without him. Especially if it has to do with a case they’re working. These are the people he loves most in the world. They are his family. What if they don’t like you? What if they think you’re an idiot? What if they think Spencer can do better? It also doesn’t help that you know they can tell you’re nervous because you know they are profilers. You sit down behind your desk, offering them the seats on the opposite side.

“Ms. L/N, you’re in charge of the research department, correct?” Rossi says it like a question, but he clearly knows the answer.

“That’s right.” You are trying everything you can to get your nerves to settle, but it just isn’t working. You’re basically lying to two human lie detectors, even if it is just by omission.

“So if items were to go missing from this laboratory, you would be responsible for reporting it.” It was Morgan who spoke this time. It’s hard for you to follow their line of questioning. What would go missing? It’s not like you wouldn’t notice if a fume hood suddenly disappeared.

“I suppose so, although it depends on what items. We don’t have a specific inventory of commonly used products like syringes and gauze, we just order more when we get low.” You can’t decide which agent to focus on. Your eyes are flicking nervously between both of them.

“What about human tissue?” When the words come out of Morgan’s mouth, you freeze for just a second. You don’t have any human tissue in the lab, so how would it go missing? Of course, the profilers take the delay in your response to mean something other than confusion.

“We- we don’t use human tissue in this specific laboratory. We focus on small animal models. The other research lab is responsible for human tissue protocols.” You stutter through your words under the harsh glares of the two agents. It is really not helping your nerves.

“Then how do you explain this?” Rossi slides a paper across your desk. It’s housed in a large plastic bag with “EVIDENCE” across the top in big, block letters. It’s a form you have never seen before. The kind someone would fill out to transfer human tissue between labs. Your hands shake as you hold the paper, slowly trying to figure out what it is. You almost puke when you reach the bottom. It has your signature as an approval of the request. You drop the paper as if it has burned you.

“I’ve never- I didn’t- how did-” You’re cut off before you can try to finish your sentence, but you don’t hear what they are saying. You feel the cold click of metal around your wrists, tight enough to just pinch your skin. They lead you back out of the building, to a waiting SUV. You can’t help but be grateful that nobody was there to witness your arrest.

The ride to Quantico is silent. You keep trying to figure out how someone could have signed your name on that form, but you can’t focus. Your mind keeps drifting to memories with Spencer.

You remember your first date in the coffee shop a block away from the hospital. He ordered a black coffee only to pour in an exorbitant amount of sugar. He blushed slightly, as if he was embarrassed by his drink preferences, only for his features to transform into a soft smile as you did exactly the same thing. The two of you talked for hours, only ending the date when you had to go pick up Lily.

You remember running into him in the park with Lily, what you would come to refer to as your second date. He looked ethereal sitting at a table playing chess. Lily ran up to him, or rather the chess board he was sitting in front of, before you could stop her. She wanted to know what the horsey was for. You watched as he patiently explained to the five year old that it was a knight responsible for defending the king.

He told her how it moves on the board. He told her how it was special because it is the only piece that can jump over other pieces. He must have spent 15 minutes talking to her about this one piece. And she was enthralled. When he was done, he looked around to find the child’s parents only to meet your eye. You’ll never forget the way his smile grew when he realized Lily was yours. The three of you spent the rest of the day in the park, playing chess, walking around the pond, and getting to know each other.

You remember the look in his eyes right after he kissed you the first time. You remember how worried you were the first time he was injured on a case. You remember Lily asking you if he could be her daddy, and crying yourself to sleep that night because you wanted that too, more than anything, and you were so scared it wasn’t going to happen.

Then you finally remember he’s picking Lily up from school today. Suddenly, the car ride isn’t so quiet anymore.

“I need to call someone.” The words come out frantic and rushed. You are absolutely sure the expression on your face screams crazy, but this is about your kid, so you really don’t care. You need to call Spencer. Then he’ll come fix this. Explain how you couldn’t possibly be involved. The agent’s response is shorter than you expected.

“Why?” Rossi sounds skeptical when he asks it. You would later suppose that he had a reason to be skeptical of you. Right now though? You didn’t do anything wrong so the whole innocent until proven guilty thing feels a little fake to you at the moment.

“My boyfriend is picking up my daughter from school. I need to call him.” You don’t really know how to tell them said boyfriend is one Dr. Spencer Reid. You weren’t supposed to meet his friends yet and definitely not without him. You aren’t really in the right headspace to be deciding if right now is the best moment to out your relationship.

“If he’s already planning on picking her up, you shouldn’t need to call him.” It feels to you at this moment that they don’t even believe you have a child. Of course, they must know because they have the one and only Penelope Garcia to find out every little thing about you. Before you can say anything else, they are dragging you out of the SUV and into the building. You are pushed through security into an elevator that takes you to the fifth floor. The BAU. You thought the first time you visited Spencer’s work would be a happier occasion. And that he would be here. The whole situation would actually be kind of funny if you weren’t so worried and nervous.

The first thing you say when you are lead through the very intimidating glass doors is “JJ.” You would come to understand why that might earns some stares. The whole room is looking at you as if you have grown another head.

“How do you know my name?” That’s a loaded question. Spencer has showed you pictures of his godson, Henry. JJ happened to be in some of those pictures as he is in fact, her son. Of course, you can’t really articulate that because you are too stressed and nervous to form full sentences. It takes a lot out of a person to be arrested, dragged from their place of work, shoved in a car, driven two hours through DC traffic, and then pulled into the FBI building as a suspect.

Instead of properly calming yourself down until you can form a complete sentence, your eyes go wide and you say “Henry” as if that is enough of an explanation. If looks could kill, you would be dead.

“How do you know my son’s name?” JJ’s words are so harsh, you physically flinch.

“I.. it’s just that… You… Well… I-” You are a loss for words, yet again. You didn’t expect for Spencer’s best friend to ever look at you with such disgust. It’s honestly a little overwhelming to think the people he calls family all currently hate you. Even if they don’t really know who you are.

“Maybe a few hours in here will jog your memory.” And with that you’re left alone to sit in a cold metal chair and stare at your reflection.

Throughout your relationship, Spencer has tried not to worry. You frequently come home from work a bit later than you originally planned, especially if you feel like you got a late start. So, when you don’t enter your apartment right at 5:30, he doesn’t think anything of it. When 6:00 rolls around, he texts you. At 6:30 he calls. By the time it reaches 7:00 and he still hasn’t heard from you, he’s actively pacing your small living room. When his most recent call goes to voicemail, he breaks. He packs up Lily’s stuff and the two of them are on the way to Quantico, finding you being the only thing on his mind.

He replays his favorite moments with you in his mind as he drives from your DC apartment to Quantico. Normally, he’d take the metro, but if you really are missing it’s safer for Lily in the car.

He remembers the look on your face when you realized you hit him with a door. He couldn’t imagine a more beautiful person. You looked so guilty, he felt the need to hug you to tell you it was okay. It was a foreign feeling for him. He’s never been one to physically comfort people. Maybe it was the concussion. It was definitely the concussion that gave him the courage to ask you to coffee.

He remembers the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach when he watched you pour almost as much sugar as him into your coffee. The soft smile on your face as the two of you spent hours talking about anything he could think of to keep the conversation from ending.

He remembers the utter joy he felt upon realizing the five year old who inquired about the horsey on the chess board is your daughter. He remembers how he felt when he looked up, expecting to find an annoyed parent given that he just lectured a five year old on one chess piece for 15 minutes, but was instead met with your kind smile and loving eyes. He loves Lily just as much, if not more than he loves you.

He remembers how you hung up the phone this morning before he could say “I love you too.” And now the thoughts he’s tried so hard to block out are circling in his mind. The words repeating in his head, over and over. What if I never see her again? What if I can’t tell her I love her?

He pulls into the garage, carrying Lily so he can run faster into the building. He puts her down when they finally reach the elevator. She’s been surprisingly calm despite Spencer’s nervous attitude.

“Spencie, where is Momma?” Spencer’s heart constricts at the sound of her sweet voice. He doesn’t know where you are, and it terrifies him.

“We are going to find out! How would you like to see my desk? You can play with the cube I showed you at home!” He pulls a Rubik’s cube out of his satchel, placing it in Lily’s small hands. He guides Lily to his desk, telling her to stay there while he looks for his friends. She looks so tiny in his desk chair, he would stop to take a picture if his phone had that feature.

He finds the team in the round table room. His eyes scan the room, landing on JJ’s concerned expression last. He’s surprised to find Will in the room as well. JJ notices him before anyone else.

“Spence, thank God you’re here. We need fresh eyes.” Before he can protest, Morgan is filling him in on the events that have unfolded.

“We brought a suspect in from DC, and she knew JJ.” Spencer’s eyes go wide. If the team is in trouble, that could be why Y/N was taken.

“When I asked her how she knew me, her only response was ‘Henry.’ Something doesn’t add up.” Movement in the doorway catches everyone’s eye.

“Spencie, did you find Momma yet?” Lily stands in the doorway, looking straight at Spencer.

“Not yet sweetheart. I have some cookies in my bag, why don’t you go back to my desk and eat them, okay?”

“Can I have two?” The little girl holds up two of her tiny fingers, unaware of the confused glances from every adult in the room that isn’t Spencer.

“Of course, sweet pea. Whatever you want. You can even spin around in my chair!” The child nods before running back to Spencer’s desk. Spencer turns around to find all eyes on him. The entire team wears similar expressions of shock and awe.

“Spencie?” Derek questions the nickname.

“Sweetheart?” JJ’s more focused on how Spencer responded.

“Who the heck was that 'sweet pea’ and why have you kept her from me?” Garcia is glaring at Spencer for hiding such a cutie pie from her for however long.

“She’s why I’m here. Well not her, her mother. We’ve been dating for the last 9 months. I picked up Lily from school today. We were supposed to meet back at her apartment, but she never came home. She’s not answering my calls and I don’t know where she could be.” Spencer breaks down as he tries to explain what’s going on. He can’t imagine a world without you in it.

“Reid, give Garcia her phone number to track her location. This could all be related to our case. If someone is targeting the BAU, we will find them.” Hotch’s no nonsense tone calms everyone in the room. Again, movement in the doorway catches everyone’s attention.

“Sir, she keeps saying she can explain everything. I know you said 3 hours, but I think she’s ready now.”

“Thank you, Anderson. We’ll be right there.” The agent leaves without another word. Hotch turns back to continue filling Spencer in on the case. “Reid, we’ve got a suspect in custody. She doesn’t match the profile, but we think she knows something.”

“She mentioned a boyfriend in the car. He might know something too.” Morgan pipes in as well.

“I want to talk to her. If she knows where Y/N is, I have to talk to her.” Spencer is out of the room before anyone can stop him. He’s practically running across the bullpen to get to the interrogation room.

“Y/N?” Morgan questions to the agents left in the round table room.

You are so cold. They must have the air turned down to put you on edge. You have finally calmed yourself down enough to form actual sentences instead of useless mumbling.

“Please. Let me explain! I can tell you everything. Well, not everything, because I don’t know how my signature ended up on that paper, but I can tell you about JJ! And Henry! Let me explain!” You never thought about how weird it would be to know someone could be watching your every move. You feel like you’re talking to nobody as you beg for them to let you explain.

The door flies open with so much force, you fall out of your chair in shock. There are hands on you, pulling you to your feet before you’ve even registered hitting the ground.

“Where is sh- Y/N?” Spencer’s tone of voice changes so quickly your brain can’t follow. You just look into his before you burst into tears.

“Oh thank God. Spencer, I was so scared. I was so nervous when Derek and Rossi came to interview me. I didn’t want them to hate me, you know? Even though they didn’t know who I was. And then I saw JJ, and I got even worse. I mean, she’s your best friend! And she sounded so angry, which was my fault, but I couldn’t even form words to explain myself because I was so sure these people- the people you consider family- were going to hate me and I made everything so much worse. But I-” Spencer knows if he doesn’t cut you off, you’ll ramble endlessly. It’s always like that when you spend too much time alone. As if all the energy you could’ve spent talking to someone pours out of you all at once.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay. We can explain everything. I’m so happy to see you. To know you’re okay. God, I love you too.” You turn your tear stained face to look up at him.

“Wha- oh my God. I said that. I didn’t even realize I said it. But it’s true. I love you so much. I can’t imagine a world without you. That’s why I was so nervous about meeting the team. And they wouldn’t let me call you, so I couldn’t ask you what to do.” The two of you continue trying to fill each other in on what has lead you to this moment.

Hotch and JJ make their way into the room without either of you noticing. They both sit down before either speaks. “Reid, I’m going to need you to leave the room.” Spencer turned around with you still in his arms, your head pulled tight to his chest. He glares at his boss before responding. “No. She didn’t do this. The dates from the case file you gave me, they don’t line up. April 17th, we watched the new episode of Doctor Who and spent the rest of the night discussing theories. April 20th, we went to dinner to celebrate Lily’s sixth birthday. April 22nd we watched Tangled with Lily until she fell asleep and then we…” He trailed off, turning a bright shade of pink. You wiggled in his arms, trying to hide the blush on your face as well.

“Spence, where’s Lily?” You know he needs to leave if you are ever actually going to get out of this room.

“She’s at my desk. She looked so tiny in my chair.” He practically has heart eyes as he thinks back to where he left your little girl.

“Why don’t you go tell her you found me? I’ll be okay.” You wipe the remaining tears from your eyes as you sit back down in the cold metal chair. Spencer looks as though he would rather read Twilight again than leave you, but he reluctantly walks out of the room.

You start rambling before the agents get a chance to ask you a question.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve probably wasted so much of your time. I just freaked out when I realized I was meeting Spence’s family. That’s why I know your son’s name.” You turn slightly to look at JJ. “He talks about him all the time, and he’s shown me pictures. I’m so so sorry that you had to worry about your child’s safety because of me. I was just nervous to meet you. That’s why I haven’t met you yet actually. Because I didn’t want Lily to get too attached if something happened and we broke up. Not that I can imagine breaking up with Spencer. I would spend the rest of my life with him if he gave me the chance.” You can feel the tears brimming again. “I really don’t know why my name is on that paper. I never would have signed it! My lab doesn’t use human tissues.” You try to stress that point.

“Ms. L/N, we believe you. We never thought you were responsible, but it was a suspicious situation. You can never be too careful in our line of work.” Hotch still looks extremely serious, but his tone is slightly more relaxed than when he threw you into this room.

“Of course. I would’ve thought I was guilty if I didn’t know the truth. Is there anything I can do to help?” You are so relieved to know they don’t think you’re a crazy murderer.

“We need to ask you a few questions about the people who work in your lab.”

“Oh. Okay.” You have to actively force yourself not to start rambling again.

“Do you know any of these people?” The agent shows you three pictures of young women. They couldn’t be more than 25.

“No…” You can’t put your finger on it, but they look familiar.

“But?” JJ encourages you to continue.

“I’m not sure. They look familiar for some reason.” All three women have brunette hair and green eyes. Their face shapes are even shockingly similar.

“Do you know anyone who looks like these women?” You don’t know how they know that, but you do. They’ve planted the seed, and it instantly grew into a massive oak.

“I do! Her name is Renee. Um... Renee Watkins. She works in the hospital, in the lab where they run blood tests.” You look at the agents with hope in your eyes. Maybe now they’ll let you leave. They both stand up without saying anything else. Hotch leaves first. JJ stares at you for a minute.

“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just, you’re his best friend. If you hate me, we won’t work. He cares about all of you way too much for me to get in the way of that.” You honestly still feel awful about the unnecessary fear you’ve caused her and her family.

“He cares about you too. He’s been happier than I’ve seen him in years. I knew something was up, but I didn’t want to push him.” You can’t keep your smile off your face at her words. “Let’s forget about all of it. I’m just going to focus on the relief of knowing nobody is after my son.”

“Thank you. I really am so sorry though.” You feel the need to keep apologizing.

“Really, it’s fine. Come with me, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

JJ leads you back to the bullpen. Right as you turn the corner, you can spot Spence playing with Lily and Henry. He’s captivated their attention with a magic trick.

“He’s so good with them.” Almost involuntarily, your hand brushes over your stomach.

“He’s always wanted to be a father.” JJ eyes your hand before giving you a rather pointed look.

“Oh! No, I’m not pregnant.” You let your arm fall back to your side. “He’s just so good with Lily; she asked me if he could be her dad.” You can feel the tears coming again. “I just know that one day I will have that man’s babies.” JJ snorts and suddenly the two of you break out laughing. Your laughter makes enough noise to capture Spencer’s attention, two little pairs of eyes following his lead. All three of them are suddenly running across the room to you and JJ.

Lily jumps into your arms, much as Henry does to JJ. You pull her close, leaning into Spencer as his arms circle around you both. The moment is interrupted when Penelope Garcia comes running into the room.

“I’ve got him. Shane Harrison, 28. He dated Renee Watkins in high school. He was recently fired from his position in the human tissues lab at Children’s National Hospital. There are reports of him breaking in, although nothing was reported stolen due to falsified transfer documents.”

“What made him start killing?” Morgan asks while you and JJ desperately cover the children’s ears.

“Renee recently got engaged. She posted all about her new fiancée on social media. I already texted you the address.” JJ says a rushed goodbye to Will and the team is out the door. Lily runs back over Spencer’s desk with Henry so she can show him the Rubik’s cube.

“Aren’t you going to help them?” You turn to Spencer who hasn’t left your side.

“I think they can manage this one without me. I’m needed somewhere else at the moment.” As if to prove his point, he leans in to kiss you. It’s short and sweet and everything you needed at the moment.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls the two of you out of your bubble.

“Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia. I’m sure the Genius Doctor has told you all about me.”

“He has indeed. You’re even lovelier in person.” Garcia is just as bright and bubbly as Spencer described her. It makes you smile to think that the team has her never ending positivity while they are surrounded by so much darkness.

“We are having a team gathering at Rossi’s tomorrow night. You should both come. And Lily!” Garcia smiles again before walking away.

“You know that means we have to go, right?” Spencer asks you the obvious question.

“I know honey. You’re afraid of what Garcia could do to you if you get on her bad side.” You laugh at his pout, pulling him down the stairs and over to Lily. It’s about time you all head home.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #Criminal Minds #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #spencer #spencer reid one shot #mgg

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whisperlullaby · 4 years

Text

Team-Building

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Sam

Words: 2369

Warnings: Smut (18+only), oral (f and m receiving), threesome, explicit language

Summary: You are an HR receptionist lucky enough to be around each time Sam and Bucky come in to attend their mediation sessions. They want to apologize for making you stay late one night.

A/N: Written for my lovely @river-soul read over and confirmed it’s not trash by @syntheticavenger Gifs by @navybrat817 Minors please DO NOT INTERACT. This is my first time writing a threesome so be kind with feedback! If I missed any warnings let me know and PLEASE enjoy.

The ticking of the clock seemed to get louder as you become more impatient at the fact you were still at work well past closing. As an HR receptionist, it was your responsibility to process the paperwork involved in Steve giving Sam the shield. You had been working tirelessly, trying to get everything in order, and yet you couldn’t seem to get that last signature needed to finalize the transition. The bickering between Sam and Bucky was holding everything up. They had to go to HR at least once a day if not more to meet with the staff mediator, Emma. You were tasked with locking up the office and you couldn’t very well do that while there were people still in the building, no matter how tempting. Finally, you heard to door click open and each person filed out.

“Now, gentlemen, I hope this can be our last meeting.” Emma sighed, “Just try to find some common ground. Maybe find a hobby or activity you can do together. Kind of like team building.”

You chuckled listening to Emma. She was a complete angel coming in multiple times a day just to field the laundry list of complaints against the duo for their behavior. Your laughing drew in the attention of the pair and as Emma left, they stopped at your desk.

“Hey, there sugar what are you doing here so late?” Sam cocked his eyebrow leaning on your desk.

“Well, Sam there are these two idiots who keep getting into shit with the rest of the team and have late end-of-the-day mediations. Guess who can’t close up the office until those sessions end, and everyone leaves the building?” You teased.

“Doll, I don’t think it’s nice to call Emma an idiot. Sam sure, but Emma? She’s a saint. Has to put up with that asshole.” Bucky gestured to Sam with a smirk.

You couldn’t help but laugh. You have known Sam and Bucky for a few months now since they started coming into HR for their mediation. At first, it was polite hello’s given before they bickered their way out of the office. Soon they began to hang over your desk as you finished up tasks and walked you to your car almost nightly. Sam would occasionally bring you your favorite coffee, and as if to one-up him, Bucky would bring you your favorite flowers. He would tell you they would last much longer than some silly coffee.

They stayed close to your desk as you went about locking up, watching you closely and sharing knowing glances. You squinted your eyes suspiciously at the two of them and when you finally managed to shoo them out of the building to lock up, they followed you to your car.

“So, any plans tonight?” Sam asked throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Just going home, ordering take out, and drinking copious amounts of wine. What about you guys? Gonna find out if you have any hobby’s in common?” You laugh, shrugging off Sam’s shoulder as Bucky grabbed your hand.

“Oh I don’t think Sam and I have much in common outside of enjoying your company.” Bucky brought your hand to his face and gave it a kiss. “How about you let us treat you to dinner?”

You smiled at Bucky and looked over at Sam who could hardly contain his amusement.

“If you guys behave. I’m not about to referee a fight between the two of you. It’s been a long enough week as it is.”

“Don’t worry honey, we’ll be on our best behavior and who knows. Maybe you’ll let us eat out with you more often.” Sam gave you a cheeky grin.

You gave Sam a confused look, “Right, except we’re eating in. I’ve had enough of people I just want a relaxing night at home.”

“Don’t worry doll, we’ll help you relax.” Bucky winked at you.

You gave them your address and told them to give you an hour. After you picked up more wine at the liquor store, you sent Sam a text to pick up the food and headed back home. When you got home you frantically ran around and cleaned up as best as you could. You changed into some shorts and a tank top just in time to hear knocking at your door. Pulling it open revealed Sam and Bucky leaning against the door jam holding bags of Chinese food.

“Jeeze guys did you order enough food?” You stepped aside letting them in.

Sam planted a kiss on your forehead and went into the kitchen. “Gotta make sure we get your energy up after you had to deal with two of the most exhausting people all week.”

Bucky followed Sam after pulling you into a hug.”Sam, I think I said earlier that it’s not nice to talk about Emma like that when all she’s trying to do is help you.”

You went into the kitchen to pull wine glasses down from the top shelf. Normally when it was just you, you would drink directly from the bottle. Why dirty another dish? As you reached up on your tiptoes you felt your tanktop slide up your body. After struggling to try to reach the glasses, you felt a warm hand on your exposed hip and a heavy body press behind you.

“If you needed help reaching something honey you could have just asked,” Sam whispered low in your ear as he grabbed the glasses and placed them next to you on the counter.

He released your hip and turned to grab the wine. You were still facing the counter trying to slow your breathing. When you turned around you were face to face with Bucky as he reached behind you to grab the glasses.

“We kind of need the glasses doll, or are you hoarding them all for yourself?” Bucky leaned forward, caging you against the counter. You heard the faint clinking of the glasses as Bucky grabbed them never once breaking eye contact with you.

“Um yeah, you guys help yourselves I’ll be right back.”

You ran into the bathroom and splashed water on your face. You had to be imagining things, right? Sam and Bucky who came to professional couples counseling weekly were in your home and getting very close. Did they notice how you looked at them each time they came into the office? You had to have been caught staring at Sam’s ass on more than one occasion with the amount you did it. You lost count of the number of times you had to have Bucky repeat what he just said because you got lost in the low gravel of his voice. The jig was up. They were definitely onto you and they were going to tease you mercilessly for it, you were sure of it.

When you came out of the bathroom Sam and Bucky were in the kitchen speaking in hushed tones. At the creek of the floor under you, they snapped their attention in your direction. They slowly started making their way over to you, their eyes glued to your body.

“Oh sweetheart, were we making you uncomfortable?” Bucky smirked.

“I know Bucky can be intimidating but you didn’t have to go getting all wet on his account.” Sam gestured to your chest.

You tilted your head in confusion and looked down. When you splashed the water on your face you must have overdone it seeing as the entire front of your shirt was soaked through, putting your nipples on full display.

“I am so sorry,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m going to go put on a dry shirt I’ll be right back.”

You ran into your bedroom and quickly sifted through the drawers to find another shirt to wear. As you took off the offensive tank top you heard the door to your room creak open and saw Sam and Bucky watching you.

“You know sugar, Emma had told us to find something we had in common. Something we could do together that we both enjoyed. Called it ‘team-building’,” Sam walked over to you and brushed his fingers over your cheek.

“We thought she was out of her mind suggesting it. What could we possibly have in common?” Bucky moved behind you, circling his arms around your hips pressing soft kisses into your neck.

Sam brought his finger under your chin and lifted your head to meet his warm brown eyes.

“We finally figured it out. We have you in common. We can’t stop thinking about you and we’ve noticed how you look at us. You want us too right?”

You let out a small whine and nodded, “Yes, I can’t stop thinking about you two.” Bucky smiled into your neck. “Yeah doll? When do you think about us? When you touch yourself?”

His warm breath on your neck made you shiver. Your nipples pebbled and Sam brought his hands to your chest, gently massaging the soft skin. You moaned at the sensation and Sam pinched your nipples intensifying the feeling.

“I think the tin man asked you a question honey, why don’t you answer him?” Sam cooed.

Bucky growled at the statement and you could feel your arousal pool in your panties.

“Yes,” you whimpered, “I touch myself when I think of you two.”

Sam hooked his fingers in the hem of your shorts pulling them down along with your underwear, leaving you completely bare to the two men. Bucky gripped your wrists and moved them down to your core.

“Show us how you touch yourself doll.” Bucky placed nips and kisses along your shoulder.

You started making slow circles on your clit, throwing your head back into Bucky’s chest. You dip one finger inside your wet channel slowly, sighing with relief. As you continue your ministrations Bucky moves his hands over your breast groping them. You were about to add another finger when you felt Sam grip your wrist pulling your hand away from your core. You looked down at him to watch as he took your fingers into his mouth to suck them clean.

“You taste so good, honey.” Sam hummed before he gripped the back of your thigh and lifted it over his shoulder. He held your ass as he pressed his face into your dripping core licking a stripe straight to your clit. He sucked on the bundle of nerves while Bucky continued to leave marks on your neck. Sam added two fingers into you and expertly stroked your sweet spot.

“Come on doll, fall apart for Sam. Cum for him so I can make you scream my name next.” Bucky pinched your nipples and your orgasm rushed through you.

Sam worked you through your orgasm licking up all your release. When he stood up he stripped off his shirt exposing his chiseled torso. He removed his pants letting his hardened cock slap his stomach. Bucky released you as Sam moved forward to capture your lips in a tender kiss. You could hear more clothes dropping to the ground and when you turned your head Bucky was on full display, the metal of his arm glimmering in the moonlight. Bucky smoothed his hand across your cheek tilting your face to meet his for a soft kiss. Pushing Sam away from you, Bucky guided you to the bed to lay you down.

“I can’t wait anymore sweetheart I have to feel you around my cock” Bucky lined himself up. Before he could push in, you felt the bed dip and saw Sam stroking himself next to you. You licked your lips and reached for him. Before you reached him, Bucky flipped you on all fours and guided your hips back, his length slowly spearing you. You moaned at the full sensation as Bucky bottomed out stilling for a moment.

Sam positioned himself in front of you, “Come on sugar, I want to see what that mouth can do.”

You opened your mouth and licked the pre-cum off before wrapping your lips around his length and hollowing out your cheeks. Sam pushed himself in until you felt him touch the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly as he moaned.

“Sam, do that again, she squeezed the shit out of me.” Bucky smacked your ass causing you to move forward taking in more of Sam, humming with satisfaction.

“Shit, I’ll do that again if you keep that up. The mouth on her feels like heaven”

Bucky started thrusting in and out of you ravenously. Each time your hips met, you took Sam deeper down your throat, drool running out of your mouth coating his cock. Sam pulled your hair causing you to whimper, the sound only spurred both men on. Bucky brought his metal hand down to your clit, pinching it.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me doll? Make a mess of my cock.”

You nodded and Sam groaned pinching one of your nipples.

“Fuck sugar, you’re gonna make me cum. Can I cum down your throat?”

You hummed with approval as Sam fucked your throat. You felt hot ropes fill your mouth and you tried to make sure you took everything Sam had to give you. Bucky continued to fuck you as your own orgasm hit you causing you to cry out his name. His hips stuttered as he reached his own release.

“Told ya she’d be screaming my name bird brain.” Bucky teased as you fell onto the mattress.

“Well, that’s because her mouth was full and our girl knows better than to talk with her mouth full, isn’t that right honey.” Sam brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your cheek.

You hummed in contentment completely fucked out. Bucky got up to get a washcloth to clean you up as Sam soothed his fingers down your back.

“You hungry doll? We did get enough food for a small army and I know you’re gonna need your energy.” Bucky stated nonchalantly.

You sat up and looked at Bucky with your eyebrows pinched together.

“Why would I need my energy?”

Sam pulled you to his chest, “Oh honey, you didn’t think that was the only round did you?”

#sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam x bucky x reader #marvel

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years

Text

Too Many Mistakes - Part 2 (S.CB)

Warnings : swearing, mentions of cheating, smoking

Word Count : 2008

Synopsis : a year after she left, she was face to face with him once again. in the past, she forgave him without him trying. but this time, he was going to prove to her that he could be the man she deserved.

Author’s Note : i wasn’t intending to write a part 2, but an anon requested it so I wrote it for them. i hope you enjoy this part 2! if anyone else has any requests, let me know. i’ll try my best!

He spent the next year alone, waking up in an empty bed made for two, her side completely untouched. Sitting at the table to eat, looking at the empty chair across from him wondering if she was eating wherever she was. Coming home to the place that no longer feels like home, not with her gone.

He messed up time and time again, that he knew. She was always forgiving, loving him in a way he knows he never deserved. He no longer goes to the club, no longer entertains other women, and instead spends his days alone, holding onto a love he knows deserves better. But he wants to be better; for her. Anything for her.

After traveling for a couple months, she returned to Seoul, moving into a new apartment, and getting her life back on track. She enrolled in university after finding her dream and got a delivery job that works around her school hours. After a year, things were finally falling back into place.

Until they fell apart. She stood in front of the place she once called home, holding a bag filled with an order she knew all too well. It’s been a year, but he was still the same. He was still the only man she’s ever loved, but today he was just a customer. “Y/N.” Her name always sounded the best coming from him.

“Delivery.” She handed him the brown paper bag. “Cash or card?” She already knew the answer, pulling out the portable debit machine and handing it over before he could even say a word. She took this time to study him. His hair was a mess, sticking up in random directions, and he had dark circles under his eyes. When the machine was back in her hands, she turned to leave, hoping he would let her go.

“Can I talk to you?” But he didn’t. It’s been a year since he’s last seen her, and he wanted to take her in just a little longer. He doesn’t deserve anything from her, not even a minute of her time, but he was going to ask. And she gave it to him. As if one year hadn’t passed, as if he was still her boyfriend. She stood in front of him, waiting for another excuse like all the ones from the past. “I’m sorry for not loving you the way I should.” But they didn’t come.

“What’s your excuse this time?” He didn’t say anything at first, not used to the bite of her words. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, and sorry is nowhere near enough to fix the hurt he gave her, and he knew that. He knew a year was a long time, people change in shorter periods of time, but he couldn’t help but miss the girl she once was. So loving, so forgiving. But he knows he’s the reason she changed, he’s the reason her walls are built so high up.

“I don’t have one, not this time. I’ve been kicking myself in the ass ever since you left. But I know I deserved to be left. You’re a diamond, but I treated you like dirt.” He took a step closer to her and her feet stayed planted on the ground. “And I just want you to know how sorry I am.”

“I don’t forgive you.” He nodded but still took another step closer to her. “I forgave you too many times. You no longer deserve my forgiveness.”

“Let me earn it.” Her eyes went wide at his words. “I never did anything in the past to earn your forgiveness. So let me earn it this time.” He was still the same Changbin that stole her heart all those years ago, but he was so different from the Changbin she left a year ago. She knows he doesn’t deserve this chance; he doesn’t deserve her. But he’s still the man that owns her heart. No matter how hard she tried to forget him, how hard she tried to move on, it still came down to him. She always came back to him.

“I make no promises, but you can try.” A soft smile spread across his lips before he pulled her in for a hug. He still smelled like her Changbin, but he hugged her tighter. He held her as if she would disappear if he let go. “I have to get back to work, but my number is still the same.” She pushed him away, got into her car, and drove away.

She didn’t expect him to reach out, to actually try and earn her forgiveness. But he did. He woke up earlier to deliver her favourite coffee from her favourite café every morning before her class. He spent his weekends with her, giving her the attention she had to beg for in the past. He tried his best to show her he was going to love her right this time; if he got the chance.

“Are you free this weekend?” Jisung, a classmate and friend, asked as they exited the school. “I have a show on Saturday and I was hoping you’d come.” She could see the hope in his eyes and happily agreed.

“Y/N!” Her and Jisung looked in the direction of the voice calling her name. Changbin pushed himself off his car and walked towards them. “Did you want to grab something to eat before your shift?” Jisung looked between the ex-couple, wondering who this man was, and why she never brought him up before.

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sungie.” She waved goodbye to her confused friend and followed Changbin to his car, getting in when he opened the door for her.

She really didn’t want to fall in love again, especially with Changbin. But he makes it so hard when he looks at her like she’s the only girl in the world. And to Changbin, she is. She is the only girl he’s ever loved, the only girl he will ever love. He can’t believe he ever allowed another girl to take him away from the beautiful girl in front of him. No one has ever compared.

“Where are you going?” Changbin asked as he stood in the living room of her apartment, watching her rush around to finish getting ready. They spend every weekend together, but now here she is getting ready to spend Saturday evening with another man.

“I told you yesterday, Bin. Jisung has a show tonight and I promised I’d be there.” She grabbed her purse from the kitchen table before walking towards the door to put her shoes on. “You can come if you want.” He didn’t hesitate in following her out the door and to the club Jisung was performing at. A club Changbin recognized all too well. It’s been 14 months since he last stepped foot in this club.

The place was crowded, more than he remembered, but she seemed to know exactly where to go. He wondered how many times she’s been here. If she always goes to Jisung’s shows. Is he the person that kept her company all these months? “You made it!” Jisung exclaimed when he saw her, throwing his arms around her.

“Have I ever missed one of your shows, Sungie?” Changbin stood back a couple steps, watching the way the two interact. She doesn’t seem to hold back with Jisung, not the way she holds back with him. Her smile was wide and she seemed truly happy, happier than when she’s with him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought Changbin.” At the mention of his name, Changbin took the few steps forward and properly introduced himself.

“Nice to meet you, Changbin.” He could immediately tell why the two of them got along. Within seconds, Changbin knew Jisung was a better option for her. Jisung would never make the mistakes he made.

Jisung soon disappeared backstage to prepare. “I think you’ll really like him, Bin.” He smiled as he draped his arm across her shoulders, keeping her close to him. He fully expected her to push him away, but she moved closer to him, smiling softly back at him.

“If you think I will, then I’m sure I will.” People were surrounding them, but his eyes were only on her. He only has eyes for her.

“Oh my god! Binnie, is that you?!” Changbin turned when he heard his name over the loud chatter around him, his arm falling from her shoulders as he came face to face with a girl he barely recognized. “It is you!” She wrapped her arms around him, but he didn’t return the hug, instead pushing her off him. “Oh come on Binnie, it’s me!”

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember you, and I’m here with someone.” He turned to introduce this strange girl to his true love, but she disappeared. Immediately, he started searching for her, frantically running through the crowds of people, desperate to explain that he truly only had eyes for her. He will only have eyes for her.

After searching the whole club, he made his way outside, spotting the love of his life sharing a cigarette with a man he didn’t recognize. A man with a kind face and broad shoulders. As he got closer, he could see Jisung beside them, shaking his head at whatever she was saying. “Y/N.” Changbin softly called out, causing all three of them to look at him.

“No.” Jisung said, taking a protective step in front of her, but she pushed herself forward, telling Jisung it was okay.

“I wanted to believe you, Bin, but you haven’t changed. You’ll never change. I can’t forgive you, no matter how hard you try to earn it. So just walk away.” She turned back to Jisung and the other man, but Changbin wasn’t going to back down, he wasn’t going to lose her again.

“No. I’m not going to walk away. Not this time, not any time.” When she faced him this time, he could see the tears that threatened to fall, but he refused to be the reason she cried, not this time. “I promise you I have no idea who that girl was. If you had waited just a couple more seconds, you would have seen me push her off and try to introduce her to you. Because I’m all about you. I made mistakes in the past, too many to count, but I will never make those mistakes again. Because I know what it’s like to be without you, and it’s fucking hell, Y/N.” His voice was getting louder and louder the more he spoke, but he had years to make up for. Years of sitting idly by while he watched her hurt. She always fixed everything even when it wasn’t hurt fault. Now it’s his turn. “I stopped going out after you left. I didn’t even try to move on because I knew no one could ever compare to you. It’s always been you, and I wish I realized that before I ruined everything. But I am not walking away. I am never going to stop trying to earn your forgiveness. Because I love you, and I fight for what I love.”

“What if I can never forgive you?” She met his eyes as the tears began to fall. He cupped her face, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

“Then I’ll never stop trying to earn it. Because you’re worth it, Y/N.”

“You really didn’t know her?”

“Not a clue.” He whispered, wiping another tear as he blinked back his own. He sees now just how badly he broke her, but he will spend a lifetime putting her back together.

“Kiss me.” She whispered. And he did. No hesitation. She knew there was still things they had to work on, things to talk about. He made a lot of mistakes in the past, and she forgave him too many times. She forgave him without him having to work for it, but not this time. This time, Changbin earned her forgiveness.

#skz au #skz imagine #skz x reader #skz #stray kids au #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids #seo changbin imagine #seo changbin au #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #bang chan #lee minho

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samwilsonshandsandass · 3 years

Text

Don’t decline too many times

Pairing: soft!dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: The local gang leader is always nice to you. But is there an ulterior motive behind it all for his niceness?

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (voluntarily), asks about pregnancy, abduction

Word count: about 3000

A/N: This is my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. A big congrats on your milestone and thank you for hosting this challenge, I enjoyed writing for it! I chose general prompt number 5 (“The leader of the local gang doesn’t like it when you tell them no.”) for this. The dividers are made by the awesome @firefly-graphics

You sat at the bar, a small bowl with olives and peanuts in front of you. You had asked for a caipirinha and shortly after if the bartender, a female redhead, could get you some snacks. She said she could, but she also cautiously probed if you were pregnant. No, you weren’t.

“Well then, I can offer you olives and peanuts.”

You nodded, and now the quite unusual combination of a fruity and sweet drink and olives and peanuts found a home in you. You had your elbows propped up on the bar, back straight and eyes on the bar top. The bowls with the snacks were gone quicker than the drink and the bartender kept both coming. Eating way quicker than drinking helped with that, apparently.

You didn’t know what number drink you were on when you were approached the first time that evening. Although night would be a better term.

“Miss? I- uh- I’d wanted to ask-“ The guy who now sat on the stool next to you stumbled over his words, but not because of alcohol in his system. He didn’t slur, he talked normally.

You saw a tattooed hand clasp the guys’ shoulder. “I don’t think you’re in the right place, buddy. Leave the lady alone.”

“Why would I-“ The guy turned to look at whoever had his hand on his shoulder. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Mr.-“

“Yeah, yeah, I imagine you are. But you’ll be even more sorry if you don’t move now” The other growled and the guy got up so quickly, he almost face planted away from the bar.

“Uhm, thank you? You know, you didn’t have to, he wasn’t bothering me. I could’ve dealt with him” You said to the brown-haired man.

“I know. But this isn’t what this is about.”

“Then what is ‘this’ about?” You were a little irritated.

“You’ll see. Enjoy your night, miss” He gave a small salute and went back into the crowd. You tried looking where he went but quickly lost him, although the bar wasn’t as packed as it could be.

Steve looked over the bar patrons from the mezzanine level of the bar, that housed his private booth that could be seen, and was supposed to be seen, from below but no one ever found the staircase until they were explicitly shown where it was.

His night was going nice, no big problems in the last days, the bar was filled and his new favorite person had just walked in. Alone. She made a beeline for the bar and after a short conversation, got what she wanted from Natasha. She didn’t move much throughout the night and he was happy to just watch her.

Steve sipped on his own drink. He wondered what she drank. He’d have to ask Natasha for that. He took another sip and swallowed harshly. Someone sat next to what would be his. Normally, he’d be lenient with that, especially if the bar was packed almost too full but for one thing, it wasn’t. Secondly, you didn’t seem to want any company tonight. Just to be left alone and drink.

“Buck?” Steve looked up.

“On it.”

A few days later, you were out grocery shopping after work. It had been a long day, full of demands you couldn’t meet or weren’t even supposed to fulfill because they didn’t fall into your department. And right as you could finally leave for the day, your boyfriend Chad had called to let you know he came home to an empty fridge and if you couldn’t pick up some fresh vegetables. But only from that one organic store. And only the freshest produce of the freshest.

How were you supposed to get literal farm-to-table produce when the delivery truck for that particular store only came twice a week and only ever in the morning? You asked and just got an exasperated sigh from Chad. So here you were, paying for the groceries and leaving the store.

You stepped out of the store and almost collided with someone. The person just kept on walking, apparently not even noticing how you wobbled and the bags in your hands almost slipped out of your grasp. Just as you thought everything would tumble and you’d have wasted that money, you felt hands on your elbows, steadying you.

“I got you, don’t worry.”

You didn’t recognize the voice. You turned around and did a double take. You looked up at Steve Rogers, the leader of the city’s gang, just known as “The Commando”.

“Th- thank you. It wouldn’t have been good if I had spilled all this.”

“What would you have spilled?”

“Fresh vegetables for tonight’s dinner.”

“All that just for you?” Steve seemed genuinely curious and confused.

“Oh no. For me and my boyfriend, Chad.”

Steve took the bags from your hands without asking. “Mind if I walk you home? It’s late and these bags look really heavy and that’s not even touching your normal bag.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not, I’m offering.”

“Thank you, but it’s not far, it really isn’t necessary” You declined.

“Alright, well have a nice evening, miss” Steve raised his fingertips to his non-existent hat.

“You too, thanks.”

Several weeks later, you laid on the couch with Chad with some mindless trash tv show playing in the background. He had his arm around you. You looked at him. He didn’t look back at you, but maybe he was just captivated by watching something that didn’t require much thinking after a long work day. Well, you wanted to do something that also didn’t require much thinking. You started kissing up and down his neck until he turned his head.

“What are you doing Y/N?”

“What does it look like?” You grinned.

“I’m too tired right now. Tomorrow?” Chad groaned.

You removed yourself from him and sat up again. “You’ve said that for weeks now! I also have needs and I don’t want to use my vibrator all the time. I want you.”

“Well, I can’t change how tired I am!” He raised his voice, despite or because of his tiredness, you didn’t know.

Shortly after, you went to bed. Unsatisfied and feeling like you had been shunned.

Just a few days later, you were frantically searching for a clean and decent shirt you could wear to work. You really couldn’t show up to work in a graphic tee shirt.

“Chad, where are my clean shirts?” You yelled through the appartement.

“In your wardrobe?! Like always?” He yelled back.

“No, they aren’t! Didn’t you do the laundry?”

“No, why would I?”

“Because it was your turn!”

“Well, I forgot. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, always sorry” You grumbled so he couldn’t hear and pulled a unicolor long sleeve shirt from the wardrobe. That would have to do.

It was a Saturday and you were in the mall, trying on clothes, maybe you’d buy some shoes. You wanted to treat yourself. Chad was gone for the weekend and you’d had a stressful week at work. You had found so many things you were packed with two or three bags in each hand plus your handbag over your shoulder. This had been an extensive haul and you couldn’t be more happy about your new treasures.

You carried several bags to the entrance to then get on home when you saw the revolving door wasn’t working. You groaned. Awesome. When you entered the mall, they had still worked and of course, today had to be the time you also bought something voluminous that you couldn’t just transfer from one hand to the other to open the door that was still working. While you thought about setting half the bags down and just walking twice or holding the door open with your foot, someone from behind you reached around you and opened it for you.

“Oh. Thank you!” You turned around and saw a familiar face. Steve Rogers.

“You’re welcome.”

He tipped his imaginary hat when you and all your bags were through the door. You turned and could see him still hold open the door with an older lady thanking the “Young man” and walking off.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” He offered.

“No, thanks I got it from here.”

Steve tipped his “hat” again and said his goodbye when you went in the direction of the parking lot.

You had reservations at a nice Mexican restaurant with Chad for this Friday evening. There was nothing to celebrate, you had just agreed to go out again, because you could. You were excited for it, an evening with good food, talking, no needing to take care of anything except getting home and a nice evening and then a lazy weekend until the work week started again. Now it was Thursday.

“Chad? Friday is still happening?” You sat at the breakfast table and Chad poured himself a coffee.

“Yeah. Work shouldn’t keep me longer than expected.”

“Alright, we’ll just meet at the restaurant, then.”

Friday came, work went down without any incident and you went straight to the restaurant. Granted, you were a little early, but you’d rather be early than late, which would have been the case if you had gone home beforehand.

“Excuse me? I have a reservation for Y/L/N, for two people. I know I’m a little early, but I thought maybe…” You trailed off.

“My colleague will show you to your table, you can already take a seat and wait for your company. I’ll send them over once they arrive” The receptionist said.

“Thank you” You smiled and followed her colleague.

At the table, you texted your boyfriend. Just a simple “I’m here a little early.” After the waiter brought a water, your phone still didn’t ping with a text. Twenty minutes later, you sent a second text. “Hey, you coming? Our reservation is for this time.” Now would’ve been the time your table was reserved for. No answer. 15 minutes and another text later, there still was no answer.

“Miss, do you want to order an appetizer or wait for your company?”

“I’ll wait for him, if that’s okay.”

“Yes, of course.”

Thirty minutes, another text and another visit from your waiter later, there still was no sign of Chad. Just as you felt tears of rage pricking your eyes, your waiter set a dish of panna cotta with fruits on the side in front of you.

“On the house.”

You smiled gratefully. At least panna cotta would soothe some of the rage you felt.

At home, there was no sign of Chad. You went to bed alone, feeling a storm of different emotions ranging from anger to sadness.

You woke to clanging in the hallway. It sounded like a person stumbling, trying to get back up and failing. That could only be Chad. Especially at this hour. You remembered once, pretty early on in your relationship how he had stumbled in just like this after a night out with his boys when you didn’t want to come with. You had helped him sober up and then you both had spent a nice day in with Chad nursing his hangover.

But this was different. This was your boyfriend, first blatantly ignoring or forgetting your date night (you didn’t know which would be worse), no matter if it went along with a special date or not, and now he didn’t even hide what he had been doing instead.

“Hey babe? Can you- can you help me?” He slurred.

And in that moment, you snapped. Still sitting in bed. You couldn’t do this anymore.

In the hallway, you saw Chad entangled in your and his winter coat. However he managed that.

“No. No, I will not do that” You crossed your arms and looked down at him. “I’m done. This is the last straw.”

“What happened babe?” The confusion was evident on Chad’s face but you couldn’t see if it was from the hangover or just general confusion. And either way, you didn’t care.

“Several things. Over quite some time. But this, this takes the cake. We had a date. We wanted to meet after work at this restaurant we’ve talked about. And you didn’t show up! You didn’t answer any of my texts! It got so bad, the staff there gave me a free dessert! It was humiliating! And don’t you dare tell me you lost your phone; you’re glued to it!” You shook from your anger.

“But you got free dessert!”

How could anyone miss the point so badly? You wondered.

“Go. Go and only come back to get your stuff. Otherwise, just leave me alone.”

You threw on clothes quickly, grabbed your keys, bag and purse and left. Down on the street, you just started to wander around aimlessly. You ducked into a bakery for a to-go breakfast and coffee, you went to the park, to a hole in the wall pizza joint for lunch, just meandering through the city.

Now it was evening. You looked up to actually see where you were and were surprised to see you had walked all the way from the park you had been in during the afternoon to the bar of the city’s main gang.

You remembered all kinds of rumors and stories about the gang, sometimes just about one or two members, even if the story didn’t tie directly in with the gang. But no matter the stories or rumors, they all boiled down to “They’re dangerous, stay away from them and their localities!”.

But the first time you had been in the bar, everything was nice, it had seemed cozy and like you were welcomed even if no one knew you. Hell, the bar lady had asked you if you were pregnant, like she wanted to protect you! And Steve, the actual leader of the gang, had been nothing but nice to you. Offering to help you and still not inserting himself forcefully into situations when you said no.

You entered and looked around. For a bar, it was pretty early and you only saw a few patrons. You went to take a seat at the bar again and greeted the red head with a smile. She smiled back and continued cleaning the glasses. A while later, she got to you.

“Caipirinha, olives and peanuts again? Still not pregnant?”

“Yes and no. And how do you remember what I ordered? That was weeks ago!”

“I’m a barkeeper. Simple as that” She smiled.

“Uh, could you keep them coming? At least for a while?”

“Something happened?”

“I broke up with my boyfriend today. Then wandered around and now I’m here” You shrugged.

“Alright. But I reserve the right to cut you off when I think you had enough.”

“Okay. But you won’t cut off the olives and peanuts?”

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Yes, I’ll keep giving you food.”

You smiled for the first time today. “Deal.”

The rest of the evening went by in a more or less haze of snacks, alcohol and the mix of hurt at your ended relationship but also the rage when you thought of what kind of behaviors of Chad made you end it all.

The barkeeper didn’t cut you off, which probably was related to you basically inhaling olives and peanuts. Hours later, you paid, slipped the redhead a big tip and a big smile and made to get home.

Almost right at the exit, you were stopped when you felt a hand on your elbow. You turned your head to tell whoever touched you off, but slight confusion furrowed your brows. Wasn’t that the guy from when you had been here weeks ago who kept that other guy from (probably) asking you out?

“Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, you can. Indirectly at least.”

“What?”

“I’m here to ask you if you’d like to come with me to up there” He nodded his head to the mezzanine level. “to meet someone.” He emphasized the ‘someone’ in a way that made it clear that ‘someone’ was special. In one way or another.

“Why would I?”

“To experience something, you wouldn’t otherwise.”

“No, thank you” You weren’t in the mood for something new. You wanted to mourn and rage at what you left behind and burrow yourself under blankets with pints of ice cream at home.

“Alright. Have a good evening, miss” He tipped his head and went off into the direction of, supposedly, the stairs to the mezzanine level.

You went home. You were surprised to see Chad had actually gotten his stuff out of your appartement. At least one pleasant thing had come out of the morning, in a twisted way. In the living room, you did exactly what you wanted to do. Eating all the ice cream you had in the freezer and basically becoming a blanket burrito.

When you woke, you felt blankets around you and a softly pulsing headache behind your forehead. You opened your eyes and blinked. And blinked. You turned your head. And blinked again. Slowly realization trickled in. Something wasn’t right. You weren’t where you were when you’d went to sleep.

Whatever you laid on was soft and big. You could turn your whole body and roll around. You could move and you could orientate yourself in your body. You looked down and saw you were still in the clothes you had worn to the bar. Right, you didn’t put on pajamas before going to sleep.

Just as you sat up on the bed, you heard a door open. You turned your head and couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Steve?!”

“Just the one.”

“Why?”

“I just want to take care of you. Is that so hard to understand?”

#my things #my writing #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers x reader insert #dark!steve rogers #dark!marvel fanfiction #fanfiction

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filmflowersbangtan · 4 years

Text

Dead of Night (preview)

pairing: gang member!jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: swearing | drug mention | gangs | in the full story, there will be violence, blood, fighting, threatening

preview word count: 4k

you meet jungkook in a diner in the early morning where it’s just the two of you in the entire place. An interesting relationship ensues, and you find out he’s not who you thought he was. He’s a prominent member of the city’s most powerful gang, surrounded by danger and trouble. But you still want him.

author’s note: I sincerely apologize for being gone for so long and for not updating any of my fics. To everyone waiting on IMSWY pt. ii: I am so sorry for taking so long with it. It’s still in my WIPs, and I haven’t given up on it yet, but it is on the back burner right now since I have many other ideas bubbling up that I absolutely have to write or else they will probably internally set me aflame (lol).

I will be deleting many of my fics soon. I will be keeping “Unbound,” “I Must Still Want You,” “Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold,” and “Lonely Planets.” Everything else I will be deleting because I have no desire to finish working on them or I simply do not like them anymore and can’t see them going anywhere.

I also will probably not be writing anymore series. Everything will most likely be one shot because every time I start a series, I get too overwhelmed with the idea of updating parts and finishing them that I just end up postponing them for too long and leaving too many people who have been looking forward to them disappointed. I do want to say that I have been going through So Much since I last posted Lonely Planets pt. ii and IMSWY, but I am in a so so so much better place now. That’s why I’m even writing this story now.

This will be a oneshot. It will not be a series. It will be very long. I am almost finished with it, but I am posting this preview just to see if you all would like to continue reading it.

Thank you all. I appreciate all the feedback and the follows and the reblogs so, so much. The feedback and the reblogs of Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold is what really motivated me to write this one. I hope you all enjoy it. 😊

Being alone was like an addiction. It was fulfilling and appealing and…well, lonely.

Two in the morning diner stops during the weekdays had become routine. The place was completely empty save for a waitress and a cook and maybe a tired trucker. You tucked yourself in a booth in the back. The vinyl seats were cracked and uncomfortable, the lighting was stark and washed everything raw. But it was comforting. Sleep was evasive and your apartment was barely unpacked, boxes stacked haphazardly in the dining area and the mattress on the living room floor. It was your idea to move to this vast city far away from home. This city swallowed everything in its incessant noise. Nocturnal and teeming with cars and neon lights. It never rested and the two of you had that in common. You took solace in that.

The air was thick with bacon grease and bitter black coffee. Every morning you had waffles and orange juice. The refills were free and the waffles were the exact same circumference as the plate underneath it. Time was stagnant here. The city pressed against the plate glass windows, but the reflections from inside barred its entry. If you looked out, you simply stared directly at yourself. Maybe there was some kind of metaphor in that.

The night shift waitress, Bethany, set your plate of steaming waffles on the table as well as a glass syrup dispenser. She knew you by name and you thanked her for the food. She smiled sweetly and left you be.

The door chimed, denoting the entry of another patron. You didn’t look up. Bethany greeted the person in her cheerful customer service voice. You knew she didn’t actually sound like that. Once, you glimpsed her smoking a cigarette by the dumpster at the back of the diner arguing with her boyfriend on her cell phone. She had a tired voice. You wondered if she was lonely, too.

As you ate, Bethany took the patron’s order. From where you sat, his voice was a mumble. “You got it!” Bethany said before breezing away.

You glanced up from your food at the patron. Hair dyed blond, dark brown at the roots. He had a gentle face and a mouth made for smiling or furtively suppressing them. Tattoos were stippled on his arm all the way down to his knuckles. He was staring down at his phone, his fingers were slender and embellished with many silver rings. He was impossibly handsome. A paragon of beauty.

And he looked up. Right at you. Why was it at that moment you happened to notice him, he decided to notice you, too?

Your scalp prickled with hot embarrassment. You immediately averted your eyes back to your waffles. There was only a bite remaining. Good. You could finish, get your check, pay, and leave.

Boldly, you chanced another glimpse. He did, too. This time, a smile, broad and lovely, stretched across his face. It was endearing and intimate and you had never felt so seen. It was exhilarating. A small smile crept onto your mouth. You couldn’t help it. His smile was contagious.

This was how the following hour went. Weighted glances and secret smiles from across the room. He received his food, and he picked up his plate and mug of coffee and…was he coming this way?

You watched him, eyes wide, as he sauntered over to your booth and set his items on your table. “May I sit?” he said. His voice was the perfect match to his face. Smooth, sonorous, soft. Crushed velvet.

Jerkily, like you had never done it before, you nodded. He sat. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” you replied.

“I’m Jungkook.”

You told him your name. He repeated it once, twice, thrice. Like he enjoyed the feel of it in his mouth, rolling it around like a piece of hard candy he didn’t want to dissolve on his tongue just yet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached his hand over the table. You smiled and shook it.

His plate was piled with pancakes and sausages and scrambled eggs. He dug in. In between bites, he asked, “So what brings you here at this time of night?” “I have trouble sleeping. And you?” Your chest was tight with the awkwardness of it all, but he appeared to be perfectly at ease.

“I’m just a night owl. Or I’m a vampire.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued eating.

Surprisingly, laughter bubbled from you until you couldn’t help the giggles that shook you. How long had it been since you had a conversation with anyone? Your store had been a drought for the past month, only a couple of people coming in a day. You didn’t call home because your parents would ask how you’ve been, and that topic lit a fire in your skull. Bethany was just a waitress doing her job. And Nora was always busy. It was refreshing to have someone sit with you. Talk with you. Want to be near you.

His eyes danced at the sound of your laughter. It was an innocuous expression, boyish in how pure it was.

You covered your mouth with your hands to mask the laughter. And he gently grabbed your wrist and removed them. “I like your laugh.”

Butterflies unfurled their wings in your stomach and fluttered in a frantic cluster. He resumed his meal as if nothing happened. “So what do you do?”

You cleared your throat. “I own a used book and record store downtown. It’s small and kind of hidden from the street, but it’s there.” You chuckled nervously. You were proud of that store, but you might have to close it down soon and return to your hometown with your tail tucked in between your legs if the revenue continued as it did.

His eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s super cool. I like records. Books, not so much. Where is it located?”

You told him the address. “By that bodega on the corner.”

“The one that sells the really good blue raspberry shaved ice?”

You snapped your fingers. “That’s the one.”

“I’ll definitely have to stop by.”

This was how the next few hours went. Talking about everything and nothing. He had lived in the city his entire life, worked as a freelance artist, had an apartment not too far away. Plates had been swept away by Bethany long ago. Refills poured, drained, and poured again.

And then, “Do you maybe want to get out of here? Kick it at my place?” Jungkook asked. His expression was open and genuine.

You didn’t know if that was a good idea. But talking to him was stimulating and you didn’t want it to end.

He noticed your hesitation. “Turn you location on your phone, I’ll even give you my address so you can send it to your friends. Anything to make you feel comfortable.”

He was right. He didn’t live that far. It was barely past five o’ clock in the morning, the city was still awake, billboards alight. The buildings towered, dark against the predawn blue of the sky. The apartment building was modest and typical of the city. Clean and affordable but just expensive enough to be appealing to a specific demographic of college students and those with decent enough jobs. His apartment was on the third floor and was charming with brick walls and high ceilings. There was a bookshelf packed with vinyl records, even more in milk crates. A record player in pristine condition sat on an end table beside an armchair.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Jungkook said, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the front door.

“You said you liked records,” you replied, browsing his collection.

“I did.”

“This isn’t liking records. This is a goddamn treasure trove.” You pushed your hair behind your ear, eager to move it from your face. “Bowie, Billie Holiday, Bob Dylan, Prince. You even have a rare version of Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland. With the naked women! This is incredible.”

He laughed. “I see you are a woman of taste.”

“If only my dad could see this. I’m afraid to touch anything.”

“I’m sure you don’t have clumsy hands with records. Since you have a record store and all.”

You laughed. “I appreciate the trust.”

“So what would you like to listen to?”

You mulled it over, taking your time examining the sleeves of the records. Then you found one.

He smiled when you showed him the cover art. “Perfect.”

Frank Ocean’s Blond. A modern classic. Perfect for the liminal hour of five AM.

Jungkook slipped it from its sleeve, fingers on the slim rounded edges of the record. He carefully settled it on the turntable, placed the needle on the disc, and played the album. There was the classic crackle of vinyl, and then the first track emanated. It was a phantasm of sound, rich and ethereal. Light but weighted. The song was the deep blue of the sky before the sun decided to pull itself above the horizon and emblazon the sky with its myriad of colors. It was the perfect song for this liquid moment that felt like a dream. This beautiful stranger standing before you with his incredible collection.

And then you were in Jungkook’s arms, slowly swaying to the music. You smiled up at him and him down at you.

The album continued on in the living room, serenading to no one. You and Jungkook had moved to the bedroom, lounging on the bed. The horizon blushed peach, casting the room in half-light. You both lay on your backs, him with an arm slung casually behind his head, you with your hands folded delicately on your stomach.

“Thank you for paying for my meal today,” you said to him meekly.

He smiled. “Thank you for the great conversation. And having an amazing taste in music.”

You laughed. “What made you come sit with me anyway?”

That was when he looked at you, his mouth still slung in a smile, but his eyes sincere. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Your cheeks went hot and you giggled nervously, covering it with your hands. He rolled over and carefully removed them, his eyes on yours. For a brief moment, time was still. Your breath caught in your throat. He was so close. His lips were so close. Your noses were just barely brushing. His voice was husky when he said, “I like your laugh.”

And then he kissed you.

In the living room, Frank Ocean sang about nights and new beginnings.

In the bedroom, you and Jungkook were breathless. Hands on thighs. Hands in hair. Teeth on collarbones. It was a innocent hunger, one that never got too peckish. He was careful with you, didn’t dare to remove your clothes. “I like you,” he breathed into your neck. You gasped at the sensation.

You kissed until you both eventually succumbed to sleep, the morning sun pouring drowsy golden light across the room.

It was well into the afternoon when you woke to the sound of a shower running. The room was unfamiliar. Definitely not your barren apartment with the boxes strewn about the place. And you definitely weren’t on your living room mattress tangled amongst its waves of sheets. The bed you were in was the most comfortable you’ve ever experienced. Brick walls, plants, beautiful abstract canvas paintings leaning against the wall. Then you remembered.

The diner. The vinyl collection. The sunrise. The kiss.

Jungkook.

He was in the shower and you were fully dressed and the night had to have been a dream. But it wasn’t. Reality settled back onto your shoulders in agonizing waves. You were hours late opening the store. But oh, you wanted to burrow into these soft, sweet-smelling sheets and dissolve into nothing. Eventually you got up.

The door to the bathroom was open. You thought about telling him you were leaving, but instead, you drew your name and number into the mirror steam and went home to shower and change yourself.

An entire week went by and he never called. He didn’t return to the diner, either. It hurt. Every time you lay on your side, willing yourself to sleep, the phantom feeling of his hands and lips barreled you at such an unwelcome rush you would gasp. None of it was real. You had to keep telling yourself that. None of it was real.

Life went back to normal. Jungkook was a fleeting daydream that sifted in and out of your thoughts. The store still barely got any customers, except for the same two or three crate diggers who visited like ghosts. And then Nora, your best friend, breezed through the door. She was a city girl through and through. Large sunglasses, the omnipresent iced coffee, the expensive wardrobe curated specifically for being in front of a camera. She was partly why you moved here. The two of you were from the same hometown, and she had escaped first to chase the tail of a fashion designer career.

“Move here!” she had said during a phone call. “You’ll love it. You’re super hipster and this city eats that shit up! And you can open up that record and book store you always dreamed of.”

She wasn’t wrong. You loved this city but this city seemed to not love you back. Now, she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and set her iced coffee on the counter top before you. You were sitting behind the register, feet up and reading a book when she had come in. You looked up from the paperback in your hands. “And what have I done to deserve your presence, Your Highness?”

“Good morning, dork! We’re going to a party.”

You kicked your feet down. Slipped a bookmark in the book and closed it. And you simply said, “No.”

She blinked, her smile stiff. “Why not?”

“You know I have to open this place every single morning. I can’t go to a party and get drunk and miss another opening.”

“Stop making this store your entire life.”

“It is my entire life.”

“Well, live another one. Just for one night.” She clasped her hands together and actually pouted. “Please.”

You sighed. “You don’t have anyone else to go with?”

She perked up and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I do. I just want you to go with me. I want you to have fun for once. All you’ve done since you been here was work.”

Every single dollar and penny from your savings went to this store. It was your lifelong dream. And Nora—lovely, naïve Nora—had never needed to work for anything a day in her life. She meant well. She was never intentionally ignorant. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

She also didn’t know of your time with Jungkook. It was embarrassing that he never called. It angered you that he called you beautiful and said he liked you only for it all to be false. Thank goodness you didn’t have sex with him.

“I’ll have fun once I’m a millionaire or something,” you said to Nora.

She huffed. “I can find you someone to cover the shop for the night. You won’t even have to pay them. Please just come with me.”

“No. What if they steal something.”

She stared at you flatly. “Do you really think any of my friends—my friends—would steal? Let alone steal any of this stuff? No offense.”

“Why do you want me to go so badly?”

“I already said. Fun. You know, music, drinks, guys.” She sang the last word and accompanied it with a little shimmy.

“I have plenty of music and I can buy my own drinks.”

She slammed her hand against the counter top, startling you. “Stop being fucking difficult and come have some fun with me.”

So, grudgingly, you went. Albeit late because you didn’t trust anyone else to close the shop for you, but you went nonetheless. Nora did your makeup. Just glitter eyeshadow and a little eyeliner because you insisted you didn’t want much. And she picked out your outfit—a black lace bra, a crop top cardigan, and a pair of white shorts.

“Because I can’t dress myself?” you grumbled, sliding on the clothes.

“Exactly that. You dress too…hipster-y. You need to be hot for tonight.”

You hadn’t worn that bra since you dated Namjoon. He was pretentious and arrogant and such a city boy it made you lightheaded. You met when he waltzed into the store shortly after you moved here. He smiled at you and you practically melted. The books were what he came for. He bought a Russian classic novel and at checkout, he discussed with you the allegory of sharing fruit in literature. He was eloquent and intelligent and so damn gorgeous you fell for him in that same moment. He scribbled his number on the receipt and told you to keep it.

The relationship lasted for four months. He suggested you move into his high rise apartment downtown with him. It was a modern edifice, all glass and steel and money. He was the wealthiest person you had ever met in your life. And, stupidly, you were in love.

And then you saw his text messages with some unfairly beautiful girl he followed on social media about how good she looked in his bed . He said he was lonely, that you worked too much, what else was he supposed to do? Needless to say, you left him. And you hadn’t seen him since.

Now, Nora said to you, “And don’t think about wearing those fucking platform boots.”

“Why not?” you said, frowning. “They’re cute.”

“They look ridiculous. Like those boots that one goth girl from that cartoon you like wore.”

You grinned, mischievous. “That’s exactly why I bought them.”

To Nora’s dismay, you wore the fucking platform boots.

The party was in an underground venue. It wasn’t all red wine and an elaborate excuse to brag about money, like the gatherings Namjoon liked, it was edgy. A live band played pop punk on a stage, the lights in the place were dim save for the spotlights and the white Christmas lights behind the bar. Greasy pizza and liquor and neon lights. You brushed elbows with someone smoking a joint, and you were pretty sure someone was doing coke in the bathroom.

Nora pulled you to the bar where she ordered herself a cocktail and you a craft beer. She knew you so well.

There were so many people here. You mentally kicked yourself for not bringing flyers for your store.

And then you saw him. Nora was talking your ear off about how hot the frontman for the band was and you almost choked on your beer.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spat.

Nora blinked rapidly. “What? What happened?”

“This is why you brought me here. You cunt.” You didn’t mean to call her that. It wasn’t a word worn with frequent use in your vocabulary. In fact, you hated the word. But it was deserved in this situation.

Namjoon. He was standing near the stage with a craft beer of his own in his hand, bobbing his head to the music. He didn’t like places like this. They were tacky to him. He didn’t even listen to this genre of music. What the hell was he doing here?

The girl standing next to him turned to him and smiled. She was wearing lipstick as red as murder and her bob was so black it reflected the lights with an envious luster. She had a septum piercing, the two silver balls glittering in the low light like two tiny stars. That’s when it clicked. He was here because of her. She was that unfairly beautiful girl in his text messages. Your skin felt incandescent.

“He had to see how hot you are. I thought you would enjoy shoving that in his face.” Lovely, naïve Nora. You wanted to slap her.

You stood from the bar stool and set your craft beer on the bar. “I’m leaving now.”

Her face was slack with regret. Before she could form an apology, you turned and walked away.

You were a few moments from the door when you heard your name. It wasn’t Nora. You stopped and your breath hitched. Your turned slowly, preparing to see Namjoon with that girl by his side but instead—

“Jungkook?”

His hair was black now and almost as shiny as that girl’s bob. It hung past his ears in gentle waves. He stood there in a baggy black shirt and jeans, his thumbs tucked into the front pockets. Silver bracelets draped from both wrists. In this lighting, he looked ethereal. Infernal. This couldn’t be the same man you shared a chimerical morning with. He looked like he had been created by the darkness of the city’s nights.

Maybe it was just the hair.

“Hi,” he said in the same way he did when he sat your table at the diner. It could’ve been mistaken as sheepishness, but his eyes were not meek. Besides the hair, you couldn’t figure out what was so different about him.

Breathlessly, you said, “Hi.”

“You look nice.”

Over his shoulder, you noticed Namjoon go to the bar. Nora scowled at him. He smiled amicably at her and his mouth moved, saying something. She froze, and her eyes immediately darted to you. Namjoon turned and saw you. And he started your way.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked.

You should’ve ran out of the venue. There were a million other things you should’ve done, but instead you grabbed Jungkook and kissed him.

Initially, he went rigid with shock, but he melted into the kiss. You felt him smile against your mouth. “Miss me that much?”

You pulled away. “I did not.” A glance over his shoulder and Namjoon was gone. You audibly exhaled.

“What happened?”

You ran a hand over your face. “Ex.”

“Ah,” he said. “Is that why you were leaving?”

“Yes. And now I’m going. Goodbye.” You whirled around, shoulders tense with embarrassment and headed for the stairs.

“Wait.” He caught up to you on the stairs. “Can I go with?” There were small white string lights strung in the stairwell and the glow reflected in his eyes. They were so brown.

“Don’t you have friends to be with?” Your phone buzzed in your back pocket with an incoming text message. Most likely your own friend dying to know who the guy you just kissed was. You ignored it.

“They’ll be fine.” He grinned.

“Okay,” you said, feeling yourself smile as well.

There was no destination, but you ended up at a park, sitting beside each other on a swing set. Your feet dragged in the wood chips as you pushed yourself back and forth slowly. He looked up at the night sky and sighed. “Do you want to know why I hadn’t called?”

You just looked at him.

“This may sound like a corny excuse, but… I was afraid of what you would think of me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated before saying, “If we continued seeing each other, you would eventually find out that I’m not a freelance artist. I do paint, but that’s not what I do.”

You could feel your heartbeat gradually speeding its pace. “What do you do?” His eyes fell down to his hands. He turned them over, studying the lines in his palms. His hair slipped over his eyes. He was a portrait of affliction. “I’m a Lost Boy.”

You didn’t understand. He noticed your silence and looked up at you. “The Lost Boys. This city is practically run by them.” He corrected himself, “Ran by us.” He stopped, closed his eyes, and sighed. “I’m in a gang.”

Your voice was a whisper. “What?”

He quickly added, “If you no longer want to associate with me, I understand. They’re—we’re—dangerous. I mean, even if you haven’t heard of us, you know us. The leather jackets, the vandalism, the fights. That venue is owned by us. The drugs at that event were supplied by us. That band playing is in our pockets. My apartment is paid by dirty money.” He laughed quietly to himself then, almost pityingly.

The night air around you was thick with your own dread. “Is being around you dangerous?” You hadn’t meant for your voice to sound so small.

“I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking.” You could hear the unsaid “but” in his tone.

“But what?” you prompted.

He chewed on his lip. A dimple in his left cheek appeared. “I won’t hurt you, but I can’t promise your safety. If you do decide to be around me.”

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #kpop #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts jeon jungkook

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nameless-shrimp · 3 years

Text

PAPER AIRPLANES || ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA

PAIRING: Atsushi Nakajima x GN! Reader

TYPE: one-shot

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

WARNINGS: mentions of insecurities, grammar errors, overall i think this is a terrible fic lol

AUTHOR'S NOTE: like what i stated above, i think this is bad. this is hella unrealistic but then again, i write anime imagines as a hobby so like... i guess it's okay? haha. this is just something cute i thought of and attempted to put it together in less than an hour.

The thing about Dazai that Atsushi took note of was that the man slacked a lot in his work, you know, the typical legs on the desk and the frantic bickering of his partner in the background. Atsushi eyed this carefully, fiddling with the paper in front of him as he turned away from the yelling of Kunikida in the background.

It didn’t take long for Dazai to take note of Atsushi’s twiddling thumbs and out of curiosity, the man peaked over Atsushi’s shoulders, startling him before the folded paper had fallen to the floor. Suddenly, Kunikida’s bickering had stopped; eyes burning into Atsushi’s figure, and Atsushi didn’t bother looking back because he knew that it was his time to get yelled at for not doing his work.

“What’s this? Pretty little Atsushi isn’t doing his wo—”

“It’s not like that!”

And it really wasn’t. Because when Atsushi found out that there was someone that he found appealing that walked into the Agency’s coffee shop on the first floor, he was amazed by the way that they looked, and sure enough, you didn’t take notice of his gawking stare when he had dropped his spoon on the table. You were late one morning to your job, bagel in your mouth and muffling out goodbyes to one of the baristas you were close with.

Across the street, Atsushi recognized your familiar face anywhere easily, and he noticed that you were working in your own office job, completely not aware that Atsushi was eyeing you every once in a while. Regardless of the day, he would glance out the window, whistling awkwardly—not as if he was making himself more obvious—and gaze out at you, across the street in the other building.

He could never make out what you were doing ever. You were too far away, and you rarely made visits at the coffee shop except for that one morning where you had a pastry stuffed in your mouth and that crinkle of your eyes as you waved goodbye underneath the basking sunlight made him want to invest in who you were. So, at some point, Atsushi knew he had to improvise.

“A paper airplane?” Dazai asked one morning, headphones around his neck. “Do you know how to properly make one?”

And Dazai taught Atsushi how to properly fold a paper airplane together. Because Atsushi didn’t know how to talk to people that he found interesting very well; it was easy in some cases, yes, but when it came to finding someone attractive then it was a different story for him—and never did he realize that folding papers could be so boring yet he was filled with determination in order to devise a plan that would get you to notice him.

It took a few days for Dazai to stop tormenting him and to explain that the plan has many chances of failing; the wind was a big issue, and the idea of Atsushi writing a small letter to you and getting it lost amongst the honking cars and strangers living their lives down the street was the bigger issue because Atsushi wasn’t going to let someone else read what he wrote for you—a stranger that had no knowledge of his existence.

For some reason, Atsushi felt stubborn, and he believed that there was some purity of hope clinging onto the tip of his fingertips as he made sure that the wind wasn’t so heavy that one afternoon. He watched you, sitting down at your desk, and he couldn’t quite picture your facial expressions from far away, but his goal was to get it to you—somehow.

Dazai watching him wasn’t helpful enough, because Atsushi’s hands trembled and he gulped every time he felt his senior’s eyes gaze down at him. Without hesitation, Atsushi threw the paper airplane, watching the paper float underneath the sun hidden amongst the clouds that blanketed the blue sky.

And, as Dazai expected, the plan failed.

“Told you—”

“Shut up!”

Atsushi bolted past Dazai, pushing him aside before muttering an apology and he dashed out of the front door, nearly bumping into Kenji and Kyouka who were making their way up the stairs. They called out to Atsushi. But they didn’t matter because Atsushi was too busy soiling his mind for pulling idiotic acts—he should’ve known, really, because who would write a letter in a paper airplane and just toss it in hopes of making it across the street?

He darted out of the front doors; sweat dripping down his forehead, pants leaving his mouth, and he clenched his fists. Atsushi was anxious, he knew he was, and then he eyed his poorly folded airplane swaying down near one of the streetlights across the street. He didn’t find it in his heart to stop moving, so he decided to keep sprinting down the crosswalk, apologizing to the strangers but nothing really mattered because Atsushi sucked at expressing his feelings and he knew that and he felt pathetic for even trying this and—

He was stopped by a red car, honking at him crazily as Atsushi nearly choked on his breath when the paper airplane had fallen into a florist’s flower stand. Good, at least it didn’t fly off. Atsushi darted for the paper airplane; his feet weren't stopping, his body was tired yet he wasn’t going to give in, and as if luck decided to tease his heart today, the wind picked up its speed and the paper airplane had fallen off the bouquet.

Rose petals decorated the air and Atsushi could practically smell the hint of lavender sprinkling his nose from running past the florist’s stand. But again, nothing mattered right now, and Atsushi bolted down the sidewalk, trying not to push people aside but he ended up doing so, anyway.

The mission was still at the task, and Atsushi wasn’t sure why he put through so much effort to retrieve something that had his name on it and—of course, that was the reason. Because Atsushi didn’t know how to properly talk to someone that he found attractive and he wasn’t sure how to share feelings in a way that would swoon someone in order to give in their heart to his; a fragile one, so damaged and lost, and even Atsushi hated himself for getting sucked into these delicate states of insecurities, but at least he tried.

The wind continued to heavy its pace, completely beating Atsushi in its race, and at some point, Atsushi believed that he was going to give in at some point and that it was over for him. It wouldn’t have been too bad, though—it was a stupid letter; one where he wrote about how he wanted to get to know you more and that you looked absolutely adorable with a bagel in your mouth and that your style was really cute in his flustered eyes and—yeah, he was feeling embarrassment heat up his body.

Near an intersection, Atsushi stopped on his feet, panting heavily as he rested his head against a brick wall, not minding the odd stares that he was receiving from other people that were brushing their shoulders along his back.

It was over. The letter had been lost. And maybe it’d rain soon so that his words would drift away with the remains of the sky. Just so that he wouldn’t have to be so worried that someone was going to read what he wrote to you.

And he heard a loud grunt next to him. It caught his attention, and Atsushi turned, looking at a familiar figure that had his paper airplane to their face and it took him a moment to process what was happening; gears in his brain turning, and he gasped.

“Sorry! Are you okay?!” He asked right away, wailing his hands around innocently.

When he realized that it was you that caught his paper airplane, his heart stopped beating for a moment—or so he thought. And he kept his jaw dropped, immediately throwing his palms to his face as he tried to avoid panting in nervousness.

You eyed the paper airplane immediately; confusion scrunched up on your facial expression and with that summer outfit that you wore, Atsushi found it beautiful that someone could look so breathtaking in the style of a season.

“Is this yours?” You asked, awkwardly smiling at him and you handed the paper airplane your way.

“I wrote that—for uh, you!”

You blinked before laughing out loud, unfolding the paper airplane as you decided to skim through the words that were printed on the piece of paper. At first, you thought it was a joke, because how could someone be so invested in your existence after visiting a coffee shop for two minutes on a sunny weekday? Yet it was funny with how the world worked; you lived in the same presence as the person in front of you.

And he had a furious blush on his face—Atsushi knew he had that look. He did his best to hide it and then he sighed deeply, shaking his head, nearly giving into defeat. “I’m sorry for being weird, it’s probably creepy isn’t it?” He kept his head down, almost making his voice inaudible. “You can just throw it in the trash if you wanted—”

“It’s adorable.”

Huh? “Ex—excuse me?”

“I think it’s cute,” you said, folding the letter back into its paper airplane shape and you smiled at him; tongue pressed against the teeth as it grew into a grin and he felt himself shift his position nervously, unsure of how to respond to your genuine reaction. “How about we grab some coffee and—maybe some bagels?”

He found himself laughing. Atsushi. Laughing. He wasn’t sure what came over him or even to you, but when you tucked your hair back and continued to smile at him, stepping closer to his presence, he mentally thanked Dazai for teaching him how to fold paper airplanes and then nodded. “Sure,” Atsushi responded.

Now it was him with a grin on his lips.

tags: @whorefordazai @tender-rosiey @internetkilledtheroxstar @sadcannibal @bsdparadise @pompompurin1028 @dazais-osamu @tetsustation @milky-toast @missrown @requiem626k @jessbeinme15

#i gotta stop writing weird stuff #then again this is my brain #hahahaha #atsushi x y/n #atsushi x reader #atsushi x you #atsushi nakajima x you #atsushi nakajima x reader

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shingia · 4 years

Note

hii ! I love your writing and this is going to be my first request on this site so i'm a bit nervous. May I request your angst prompt #6 with either akaashi or bokuto (or anyone you want but I just love them gah) and something accident related if possible (but if not it's fine!), i'm an angst sucker ;-; thank you and have a nice day!

MEMORY - BOKUTO X READER

hi !! dw it’s completely ok to be nervous about your first request, i was literally shaking when i first sent mine ! and thank youuu it’s always nice to know that my work is appreciated 💕 i had no idea of which boy to choose but i never wrote angst for bokuto so here it is, i hope it’s what you had in mind ! <3

-> angst prompt #6 “stop saying my name like it’s the last time” (that one HURTS omfg)

-> bokuto x gn!reader | Angst with a capital A | word count : 2K

warnings : car accident, mentions of blood, hospital environment

bokuto always thought it was funny how a smell, a sound or a sight could hold enough power to trigger memories that he thought had been erased by time.

but no smell, sound or sight was ever needed for him to remember the day he first met you. how the purple lights of the bar were slowly dancing on your skin, casting shadows that made your features look different every time he casted guilty glances at you. he remembered the feeling of his sweaty palms when he asked for your number, and how you had to blink exactly four times to read his messy handwriting on your arm.

all these seemingly insignificant details were kept safe in the depths of his mind, patiently waiting to resurface every time his heart needed them. but if these kind of memories were kept so vivid by choice, others - much darker - had a terrifying way of imprinting into one’s brain…

it was a bright april afternoon, the kind of day that made people forget about their worries, and bokuto had just finished what he considered to be one of his best practice. as usual, his heart swelled with excitement at the thought that he would tell you all about it as soon as he’d step foot in your house, where he was just heading.

but the sudden vibration of his phone in his pocket made him stop dead in his tracks.

he was not particularly stressed by phone calls, but something about the way his heart dropped made his hands start shaking and his surroundings blurry ; something was off. he hesitated a few seconds before getting the phone out - maybe it was cowardice, but his body already knew that he was not ready to handle what was coming at him.

the voice he heard on the other side of the line was undoubtedly yours. the vibrations, the tone, the pitch, he had heard it whispering sweet nothings in his ear way to many times to be mistaken. so why did it take him so long to admit that it was well and truly you, calling him for what looked an awful lot like a goodbye ?

although pain and fear had grabbed you by the tongue, you miraculously managed to tell him about the poor driver that had been distracted by his kid - too distracted to see you crossing the road on your way to the store, and too slow to hit the brakes.

your voice was weak, so weak that bokuto did not even hear the last thing you said before passing out on the warm asphalt. and so he started running, as fast as humanly possible - if not more - because he knew he was only two streets away from you, and he knew that he would never forgive himself if he arrived too late.

bokuto had many preconceptions about the way he would ever react to an accident. panic, anger, sadness, incomprehension… but nothing could have prepared him for what it truly was. in one second, his mind had time to produce hundreds and hundreds of questions, and they all remained unsolved until his eyes finally laid on you, or more like what seemed like a nightmarish version of you.

a woman was frantically screaming, a hand over her mouth like it was of any use. behind her, a young girl was staring at the blood stain on the white car’s bumper, eyes wide in terror. and in the car, a giggling toddler was happily chewing on his teething ring, having no idea that today had changed his father’s life forever. the latter seemed stuck in a cataleptic trance, and it seemed like the first aider was not going to get anything out of him.

bokuto was ready to beg on his knees for the ambulance driver to allow him on the ride to the hospital. he had a thousand ways to prove that you were the love of his life : the picture of you in his wallet, your matching key rings attached to your respective bags, the crumpled receipt of the necklace he had bought you a month ago, the one that was now hanging loosely around your dreadfully immobile neck. but just a glance at his despaired eyes was enough to understand that he deserved his place by your side in what would probably be the worst moment of your life - and his.

three paramedics were too busy putting you on a stretcher for bokuto to even catch a glimpse of your face. and the fact that he was left alone with his imagination made him want to throw up. yet when his eyes finally laid on your bruised and bloody features, it felt much, much worse than anything his imagination could have thought about. his heart skipped more than one beat at the thought that maybe he had arrived too late.

but no, your eyes fluttered open while the medics were still yelling orders at each other, meaningless words that were only background noise for bokuto. his hands gripped the edge of the stretcher, even though they were longing for the touch of your skin, no matter how scratched and wounded it was.

« hey, hey, stay with me, alright ? » he articulated in a hoarse voice as your hand found its way to his cheek. seeing that, one of the medics started reaching for your arm - you had too many broken bones for him to allow you to move so carelessly. but one of his colleagues, a tall woman with the kindest eyes, stopped him before his fingers could wrap around your wrist. and the look she gave him was screaming for his indulgence. ‘let them’.

although the opaque windows were filtering most of the ambulance lights, faint beams of red and blue were still dancing on your face. it was true that bokuto did not need anything to trigger his memories of the first time he saw you, but the alternation of the two colors on your features were a bitter reminder of the purple neons that had lightened your face in that bar, where everything had begun. and so were his sweaty palms, warm and shaky against your wrist which he had grabbed as carefully as if it had been made of porcelain. but the blinks of your eyes looked nothing like when you tried to guess the numbers he had written on your arm. they were desperate movements of your lids that were painfully trying to stay open - because if you had one last wish, it was that bokuto’s face would be your last sight.

your facial muscles only allowed a few painless movements, and luckily for the both of you, a faint smile was one of them. « h-how was practice ? » you asked, the left corner of your lips curling upwards. he let out a sorrowful laugh, ignoring the tears that were prickling his eyes as he started to kiss your palm at an alarming pace, like he was so desperately trying to get something out of the feeling of your skin against his lips.

« you’re gonna be okay, i promise… i love you » he told you, eyes intensely locked with yours like it was the first time these words were leaving his mouth. « i love you. so much. i love y- i love you. so fucking much, i really love you » he repeated like a prayer, words mixing up in his mind that was too focused on your eyes to think clearly about anything else.

« kou… listen to me » you whispered, still trying your best to keep your smile when it felt like every fiber of your body was being torn apart. your thumb caressed his cheek, but so stiffly that you knew it probably did not even feel like your touch. « thank you for everything, for being you and for loving me. i love you too, and you deserve to be happy… »

no. this didn’t feel right. this wasn’t a promise of love, it had the bitter taste of goodbyes, of words that are said just to alleviate the pain of the living. « don’t say it like that, please » bokuto pleaded, hating himself for ordering you when you were in such obvious distress. but for the first time since that god-sent night at the bar, he hated the sound of every word that had left your mouth. he would have given anything to go back to just a few seconds ago, when you were still joking about his practice. because back then it didn’t feel like you were going to leave.

« you’re gonna be ok. i love you, kou », you said in an almost maternal tone. « stop saying my name like it’s the last time ! » he exclaimed with such vigor that even the medics stopped for a second. but you didn’t flinch, your eyes were still kind and peaceful. and they still were when your thumb progressively started moving, and when your lids slowly closed.

──

the hall of the hospital was cold - in every sense of the word. akaashi was nervously playing with the lid of his coffee, sat upright on a chair even though his legs felt restless. bokuto, on the other hand, had refused to eat, drink or even sit for one second until he had talked to one of your doctors. it had now been almost two hours - and every second felt like torture.

but oddly enough, akaashi was the first to react at the sight of your surgeon that was coming towards them at a frustratingly slow pace.

« how did it go ? » he asked, the joint of his hands white from holding his coffee cup so tight.

« they made it. our nurses brought them to a private room where they will be watched v- »

bokuto didn’t need to hear more. he had no idea of which room you were in, but it didn’t matter - the hospital was not that big, he’d find a way. he always found a way.

running like a madman, he couldn’t even hear akaashi yelling at him to come back. his heart was throbbing with happiness at the thought that you were patiently waiting for him in a room. safe and sound.

he had spent so much time hammering the most terrible scenarios in his head that he had almost started to believe some of them were true. in a sense, he had already felt how it would be like to live without you - and he was now promising himself to never feel that pain ever again.

tired of running around without knowing where he was headed, bokuto eventually asked a nurse to indicate him the room you were kept in. and, although it did not respect the hospital’s privacy policy, she gave him without thinking twice ; because just like every other member of the staff, she knew about the boy that had spent hours crying and waiting for his loved one. her eyes were blurry with tears when he thanked her about three time before heading to the said room.

and there you were. laying on your back, staring at the ceiling with your fingers fiddling with the sheets - just like you always did when you waited for him on his bed.

« oh thank god » bokuto breathed out, taking a few seconds to admire your features before running to your side. his hands were still wet from his tears and his eyes were red and puffy, but he had never felt so happy to hold you. his lips immediately found their way to your hands, completely ignoring the strong smell of betadine, and they stretched in a grin at the familiar feeling of your fingers that seemed so tiny against his.

when he finally looked up at you, he felt like the luckiest man alive. just the sight of you breathing was something he had started to give up on. your chest was slowly heaving and your eyes blinked exactly four times before an embarrassed chuckle left your lips :

« excuse me but… who are you ? »

@toworuu @catwithangerissues

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto angst #haikyuu x gn!reader #hqxreader

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blingywitch · 3 years

Text

Good Feelings - Chapter II

Hey! Here’s chapter two! This fic is going to go in a bit of a weird direction for a while I think— starting in the next couple chapters— but I promise it’ll all align eventually! (Even if it doesn’t seem that way) See, the problem is... I’m having a little trouble figuring out how things will work with it—plot wise—hence why this took some time to get out. It’s out now and that’s all that matters :) But just note that if the chapters are taking longer to get out than usual it’s probably because I’m stuck and can’t write anything but they will get out... eventually. I promise <3

Umm... all I have left to say is Logan Tremblay is a sucker for pretty eyes... as am I.

Full Masterlist & Good Feelings Masterlist

Characters belong to the lovely, @lumosinlove

CW: mentions of food and drink

The sun was barely out when Logan woke up that morning. He could already tell it was going to be a nice day though, there was no clouds in sight and the only reminiscence of the rain that had passed through Gryffindor earlier in the week was the damp grass and small puddles that were scattered around the pavement.

Logan liked the rain, it reminded him of home; And yes, rain was still as common in Gryffindor than it was in Quebec but it just wasn’t the same. No matter where he was in the world nothing would be the same as his home. He missed it.

Logan and his three sisters had moved down to Gryffindor about a month ago. They wanted to expand their families business—Tremblay’s— that had been solely in Rimouski, Quebec until now; and Gryffindor seemed like the perfect place to start. So they packed their bags, said goodbye to their parents—who were staying in Rimouski to mange things there— and they were off.

It was hard at first; Being in such an unfamiliar place. Being without anything that was normal to them. But the Tremblay siblings had each other and that was familiar. They worked together, getting used to the new things and eventually it got to a point where Gryffindor was starting to feel like home to them— a second home.

Moving in together helped. Again, it was comforting to have someone around 24/7 that they knew in a city that was filled with strangers. Logan and Noelle had bought a small apartment together while Audrey and Sydney got places of their own on the other side of town. Being the youngest siblings Noelle and Logan didn’t think they were quite ready to be on their own anyways.

And that’s how Logan got here; closing the door to his Uber and telling the driver where to go. Off to his first official day working at Tremblay’s. Aka opening day.

When the car exited the parking lot Logan’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He hauled it out to see who it was.

New message from: Noelle

Hey, are you almost here? Please tell me you’re almost here.

I just got into the Uber. What’s the rush?

Aubrey is flipping out; Running around the place and talking to herself. Saying something is going to go ‘terribly wrong’. She checked if the open sign was working 3 times already. Syd and I can’t handle this much longer. SOS.

Logan chuckled softly.

Tell Aubrey that it’s going to be fine and that nothing is going to go ‘terribly wrong’. I’ll be there soon.

And if you want me there so bad why didn’t you wake me up when you left this morning?!

I didn’t wake you up this morning because before you went to bed last night you were grumbling about not being awoken before 6 or you’ll be all moody.

I can’t deal with moody Logan in the morning. Especially not this one.

Ok that’s reasonable. See you soon!

Byee.

—

“Logan!” He heard his name being shouted at him by one of his sisters as he entered the coffee shop— Sydney, he realized it was when he looked up. “Vous êtes ici!” She exclaimed.

“Logan!?” He heard again, accompanied by a clash that sounded like a pan hitting the floor. The next moment Audrey appeared; looking slightly frantic.

“Oh thank gods.” Audrey breathed. “You’re here.”

“Finally.” Noelle said playfully; joining in from where she was straightening mugs on a shelf.

Her brother narrowed his eyes at her. Only for her to shoot Logan back a smile that said, you know you love me.

“D’accord d’accord,” Audrey interrupted her siblings moment. “Enough playing around. We have work to do.” She walked over to the back and grabbed a classic blue Tremblay’s apron off of the rack that was there. She tossed it at Logan, the fabric draping over his head, “Put this on. This place opens in twenty.”

Logan lifted the apron off his head, “Yes, captain. I’ll get right to work.”

Audrey ignored her brother’s attempt at trying to loosen the tense atmosphere that was looming over her and went back to what she was doing.

“Oh, and Audrey?!” Logan called after her.

Audrey turned around, raising a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Everything is going to be fine. Nothing crazy or terribly bad is going to happen; I promise.” Logan had a serious look in his eyes.

Audrey smiled softly at him. Logan sure as hell didn’t know how to deal with his emotions but he always knew how to comfort others; especially his sisters.

Walking over to turn on the record player Logan quietly repeated his words to himself so no one would hear, “Everything is going to be fine. Nothing crazy or terribly bad is going to happen; I promise.”

If only Logan knew.

—

Noelle was cleaning off one of the front counters when she heard them walk in; laughing and joking with each other. Holding hands and going to sit down at a table in the corner. She watched as the taller one pulled out a chair for the other and then start a small conversation.

They hadn’t Looked her way, so she was able to sneak away to the back without them noticing while the pair got settled and decided what they wanted. Plus, Logan said he wanted to serve people today.

So she picked up her wash cloth and made her way back into the kitchen where her siblings were. She looked at her brother, “Logan, a couple of people just walked in. You got it?”

“Y-yeah.” Logan almost looked nervous at learning the information. “Ouais.”

Noelle nodded. “Okay. Just give them a couple more minutes to get settled.”

Logan knew he was nervous about today. Would he ever admit that to his sisters? Fuck no. But he never would have guessed that when the time came for the actual work to happen he would be this nervous.

Noelle said there were people here. What if those people hated it here? What if they didn’t like any of the food? Or what if he messed up and got an order wrong? What if he trips over his own feet walking over to them and embarrasses himself— knowing himself though, and how clumsy he could be that is something Logan would do.

“Logan?” Sydney’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts that were quickly getting the best of him. “You okay?” She asked “You look a little sick there.”

Trying to regain himself, Logan took a deep breath and sat up straighter. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Okay.” She sounded unsure with his response but didn’t push it anymore. “Noelle said they should be ready now.”

“Right....” Logan nodded, bringing his hand up to take off his hat before he realized what he was doing and quickly brought it back down.

So, clearing his throat and patting his apron pocket to make sure he had his pen and note pad he set off to take their order. Exiting the kitchen, turning the corner, looking around and—

The odds really weren’t in his favour today were they?

His first thought was, pretty. His second, get it together Tremblay. But that was easier said then done when the two boys that were sat at the table looked like they did. He was still a good ten feet away from them but from what he could see Logan didn’t think he’d ever seen two boys they were so— pretty, as he described them. It was the only clear word in his head right now so it would have to do.

It was then Logan realized he was just standing there, staring at these pretty boys— thank gods they hadn’t noticed him yet— and he had a job to do. So, for what felt like the hundred time that day he took a deep breath and composed himself and mustering up all the courage he had, walked over.

As he got closer he noticed that the boys looked to be in deep conversation, pointing at the menu and nodding along with whatever the other said and Logan almost felt bad for having to break it up. He didn’t want to break it up. He had only laid eyes on the two for a maximum of thirty seconds but he felt content to watch them talk to each other for hours. Something about the way they communicated drew him in, the way they weren’t using many words—from what Logan could hear anyways— but seemed to know exactly what the person across from them meant. It took two people knowing each other well to be able to do that. Logan wanted to know these people well.

He had reached their table. Here goes nothing. “Bonjour, welcome to Tremblay’s,” he greeted. “I’m Logan. What can I get for you two?”

The boys looked up at his voice and Logan felt like he got punched in the stomach. If he thought they were pretty before then this was godly.

Eyes he thought. A deep shade of brown that looked like pools of melted chocolate. In the early morning sunlight Logan could see that they had lighter spots making chocolate and honey swirl into each other in a perfect circle around his pupils. Logan could stare forever. His Auburn hair that appeared as fire itself looked incredibly soft, with the sides shaved and the waves on top flopping to one side. It took Logan everything he had in him to keep his jaw off the floor.

He looked away from the redhead and met the others eyes. Mon dieu was Logan a sucker for eyes. Orbs of cornflower blue stared into his green. They looked curious, observing, almost like they held an expression of their own, like they were doing the thinking instead of his brain. Though Logan couldn’t guess what the boy was thinking if he tried. His face was Guarded; Not in a way that said he didn’t want you to know what he was thinking but in a way that said you just needed to earn it. And Logan couldn’t comprehend why he so badly wanted to. His hair curled around his ears and came down slightly over his forehead where a tuft of white could be seen amongst blonde curls. He was gorgeous. And just before Logan snapped out of his trance he saw the boy’s eyes roam over him; he really had trouble keeping his face straight at that.

The blonde suddenly cleared his throat. “Oh, um... sorry. Finn?”

The other boy— Who Logan now knew as Finn— looked at his friend. Those beautiful eyes of his going wide for a second before looking down at the table. “Right, uhh, I’ll have....”

Logan nodded along with their orders. It was nothing complicated— thankfully. He didn’t think he could handle complicated right now. “Alright, sounds good. I’ll be back with that, you guys sit tight.” He smiled politely at them and started making his way back to the kitchen. Careful not to match his pace with his rapidly beating heart.

As soon as he was out of sight from the boys and back in the kitchen he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and just sat there for a moment; leaning against the wall and calming himself down. Why today? His first day. At least give him a couple days before the really hot guy—or in this case, guys— walked into the coffee shop.

“You okay?” Noelle noticed him first and he was asked that question for the millionth time that day.

Logan opened his eyes and looked at his sister. “You could have told me they were hot!” he whispered yelled.

Noelle just laughed loudly, accompanied by chuckles from his other sisters. They knew that Logan was bisexual; There was an incident when he was in high school where Logan was crushing so hard on a boy that he had to tell somebody and he chose his sisters. It had been a good choice; Unsurprisingly, they were greatly accepting. Sydney even telling him she wasn’t exactly straight herself either. And maybe things didn’t work out between Logan and the boy but he now had amazing sisters that loved him no matter who he loved and that made him more than happy.

“Sorry,” Noelle managed to get out when her laughter died down. “It didn’t cross my mind if I’m being honest.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at her but left it alone. He turned to Sydney, “Syd, I need a breakfast sandwich, hold the tomato— Oh! and a croissant instead of a bagel please!”

“I’m on it, petit fère.” She smiled.

“Excuse me.” He said to Noelle, still playfully narrowing his eyes at her. “I have coffee to go make.”

Noelle smirked and moved out of the way, as Logan walked away she called after him, “I’ll put your number on their check later!”

Logan rolled his eyes, though he was trying to suppress a smile.

—

Deep breaths Logan. Deep breaths.

“Okay, so, we have the breakfast sandwich and the black coffee for you.” Who drinks black coffee? Ew. Logan thought, placing Finn’s order in front of him. “And just the medium two sugar two cream for you.” He handed the blonde his coffee. Did he ever want to know his name.

“Thanks.” He said, looking right into Logan’s eyes.

“No problem!” Logan managed to get out. But not before a pink tint washed over his cheeks.

Logan abruptly looked away. In a failed attempt to hide his blush he smiled politely at Finn and he got one in return, though the redhead looked a bit confused. And that was all Logan could stand before he turned around and walked away, not being able to resist bringing his hand up to remove his hat and run his fingers through his hair.

How was it still only 9 am? Logan didn’t know. But let’s just say he continued his work day with two beautiful faces never leaving his mind.

Auburn and brown, blonde and blue.

#lumosinlove #leo knut #o'knutzy #coast to coast lumosinlove #finn o'hara #sweater weather lumosinlove #logan tremblay #coffee shop au

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mxndoscyarika · 4 years

Text

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 6

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink mention, death mention

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Thank you for being so patient 🥺 School+job interviews have been kinda crazy for the last few weeks. But now I’m on spring break AND got an internship, so hopefully the coming chapters will be up soon. Enjoy!

“Are you sure you don’t mind picking up Missy? I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

Erin laughed softly, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m turning into the school parking lot already, babe. I don’t mind, really. It’s nice to spend time with Missy.”

Her boyfriend let out a sign of relief on the other end of the call. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it a couple times,” she replied, pulling up to the pickup line. When she spotted Missy, she waved her over. Her heart soared as the little girl’s face lit up like the sun. “I should let you get back to work. I’ll bring her back to your place, so don’t worry about stopping by my apartment, ok?”

“Okay, honey.” A pause. “Thank you for taking care of my baby. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably run around frantically,” she teased, unlocking the car doors so Missy could climb into the back seat. “Now go save the world, Marcus. I’ll see you at home in a few hours.”

After that, she hung up and turned around in her seat to greet Missy, who was already buckled up. “Ready to go home?”

The little girl nodded. “Will you stay for dinner tonight? We haven’t had a night with all three of us in a while.”

Erin laughed softly, pulling out of the pickup line. “Missy, sweetie, I stayed over this past weekend! But yes, I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

“Can you stay forever, then?”

Well, that was unexpected. Yes, she’d become an integral part of the Morenos’ lives, but she never thought Missy would want her around all the time. Surely she missed her mom, or missed having free reign around the house with just Marcus as her parent figure. She couldn’t be that important, could she?

Part of her couldn’t help but melt at Missy’s request. For a long time, she’d wanted to find someplace that she could call home–a place where she could live, appreciate, and be appreciated in return. It would’ve been a lie to say that she never thought of a life with the Morenos, but she knew that it was more complicated than her late-night fantasy made it out to be. She couldn’t just barge into their lives.

The drive to Marcus’s house was muscle memory at that point, the turns of her wheel well-practiced. After their first date, they’d gone on two more. And while neither of them had gone much further than needy kisses, she couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with him. He was worth it. He was worth everything.

Missy bounced on the balls of her feet as Erin fished out the house key from her purse, bounding into the house the moment the door was unlocked. “If I finish my homework early, can we bake something?”

“Maybe,” she mused, setting her shoes on the shoe rack by Missy’s. After locking the front door, she walked into the main family and dining area. “What did you have in mind?”

“Can we make a tres leches cake?” Missy asked, looking up at her with innocent eyes. “I asked dad, but he said no.”

Erin chuckled and sat down in the chair next to her. “That’s probably for a good reason, sweetie. We just finished a cake roll the other day, so maybe we can bake it this weekend. Instead, we can have ice cream today.”

The girl sighed and shrugged. “Okay, it was worth a shot.” She frowned as she read over her english homework. “Parts...of speech? I don’t remember learning any of this in class. Can you help me? Pleeeease, Erin?”

Humming in confirmation, she set down the file she was reading and turned so she could read the homework sheet better. “Ah, I remember learning this in school. It’s not too bad, it’s just that the names are a little weird. Let’s see…”

They worked on the homework together, Erin explaining the concepts and asking Missy to give her examples of everything from verbs to nouns. She tried not to think about what it would be like to spend more afternoons and evenings helping her little girl with homework. It was a long way off, and she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

She was explaining the difference between nouns and proper nouns when Missy mentioned, “You know, dad used to have a different name.”

Erin raised a dark brow, surprised at how nonchalantly the girl had made the comment. “Really, now?” It probably shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise–didn’t most superheroes have codenames, or secret identities?

Missy nodded. “Well, I think so. I remember when I was little, sometimes he would write Marcus Pike on my permission slips instead of Moreno. Then he’d have to cross it out and fix it. Silly, right?”

Erin froze, her heart dropping into her stomach. Her Marcus...was Marcus? “Oh...that is silly. I wonder why he changed it.”

It didn’t make sense. Marcus Pike disappeared nearly a decade ago, and as far as she knew, he wasn’t affiliated with the Heroics. And he certainly couldn’t have a daughter that was in second grade.

Or could he?

But if he was the Marcus Moreno, then why did he need to have a fake identity? More importantly, why didn’t he tell her that he was Marcus Pike? Even if it was a codename, it didn’t matter once they met. Unless...he didn’t want her to know.

Maybe he didn’t want to be found; because if she was anything to him, why didn’t he look for her? Why didn’t he try to contact her?

The air turned cold. Breathing slowly through her nose, she sat back and opened her laptop. She scrolled through the reports of Marcus Pike’s disappearance. There was nothing on him except some anecdotes and some text messages between coworkers. There was no address, no email, no mention of his name online. He’d very much disappeared. No one, not even her best agents, could find any trace of him after that winter day eight years ago.

Sighing, she switched gears and pulled up as much information as she could find about Marcus Moreno. She didn’t like the feeling of prying into his life, but she had to know. It didn’t make sense: if Marcus Pike existed for years within the FBI, what was Marcus Moreno up to? Did he disappear too?

Her hands shook as she clicked on the website of the Heroics and went to Marcus’s page. Unlike most of the other heroes, he didn’t have a codename. Why was that?

She paused at his photo, gaze softening slightly. As much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, he did look a lot like Marcus Pike. He had the same furrow between his brows, the same nose. They were the same height as well, which she’d noticed as her body fit perfectly against him.

They–he?–both knew her coffee order like the back of their–his?–hand, and knew exactly how to comfort her when the stress from work became too much. He called her the same pet names, her favorite being….honeydew.

Shit.

Only one person ever called her “honeydew.”

She was terrified as she scrolled down.

The first appearance of Marcus Moreno as a member of the Heroics was eight years ago.

How could she have been so blind? He was right in front of her the entire time, and she never noticed. She built her entire reputation on remembering details and noticing everything, and she couldn’t pick up on the clues. Who else would call her “honeydew,” hug her like it had been years, and want to take the relationship slow?

It was too much.

Not wanting Missy to worry, Erin got up from the table and locked herself in the bathroom before letting the tears fall.

Why did he have to go?

Why didn’t he tell her?

Why didn’t he come back?

---

Erin only let a few tears fall before gathering herself again. She couldn’t let Missy know the truth, not yet. She had to be strong for her, just as she had to be strong for her team when every lead turned into a dead end. So much time had passed since she last had any hope of seeing Marcus again; part of her didn’t want to believe it. But at the same time, she couldn’t deny it anymore: Marcus Moreno was Marcus Pike. He was alive and well, and happy.

The least she could do was be happy for him.

But it didn’t soften the blow on her pride.

Dinner was a quieter affair than usual. She couldn’t bring herself to talk more than a couple sentences at a time, for fear of something slipping out. Maybe it was better that way. Marcus obviously didn’t want to deal with the effects of disappearing, so why should she make an effort to find closure?

That was another thing, she realized. If he really was Marcus Pike, then would she ever get closure? Would she ever get to truly move on from the one person she could never have?

Once Missy went upstairs to get ready for bed, the silence grew deafening. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t know how.

Marcus must’ve sensed something was off, because his brows furrowed just slightly. He came up and leaned against the counter, watching as she transferred the leftovers into tupperware containers. “What’s wrong?”

Erin sighed. Part of her didn’t want to confront him and destroy the little bubble of happiness surrounding them, but she needed answers. If he reacted badly….maybe he wouldn’t be the one. Resigned, she asked, “Why did you lie to me, brown eyes?”

A blanket of silence settled in the kitchen.

His eyes widened. “W-what do you mean?”

Fighting back tears, she asked, “Why did you let me think you were dead, Pike? I-” She covered her face with her hands, eyes clenched shut. “I searched for you, but you were gone!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes glistening. “I should’ve told you.”

As she started trembling, he realized it was the first time he’d ever seen her cry. His honeydew was crying because of him.

“I just wanted my best friend back,” she said. Facing him, she asked, “Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I supposed to live the rest of my life feeling guilty that I was moving on from the love of my life?”

Marcus felt like he’d been punched. She…wanted him since the beginning? “Your...what? Honeydew, I-”

She stepped back as he reached for her. His heart broke as she shook her head and said firmly, “No. You don’t get to call me that. I don’t….I don’t even know who you are.”

“Okay,” he said softly, taking off his glasses. Tears dripped down his face as he faced her. “Let me introduce myself. Completely. My name is Marcus Moreno. We met when I was hiding under an alias: Marcus Pike.”

He told her about his family, and his involvement with the Heroics early on in his life. His mother, Anita Moreno, was one of the original heroes in the organization. As the Heroics grew more prominent and began working with the government, he needed to change his name–while his mother wanted to help the world, he just wanted a normal life. He wanted to go to school, make friends, and have a family someday. With the status that came with being a Moreno, he couldn’t do any of that without putting his loved ones in danger. So, with the help of the Heroics, he changed his identity to Marcus Pike.

Most of his adult life, including university, was spent as Marcus Pike. His failed marriage had Marcus Pike written on the certificate. Even when he worked for the FBI, he was documented as Marcus Pike; no one knew who he was, not when new people were being cycled in and out of the workplace.

After moving to DC and having his engagement with Teresa Lisbon broken off, he gave up. He contacted his mother, got involved with the Heroics again, and had his identity erased so he could take over as the leader of the Heroics.

“But that doesn’t explain why you couldn’t tell me,” she said, frowning. “Is the difference between Marcus Pike and Marcus Moreno so big that it would affect our relationship?”

Marcus sighed. “Do you really want to know?” When she nodded, he confessed, “I didn’t tell you because...I didn’t want to lose you.”

Her gaze softened. “What?”

“I was afraid that if you saw me as Marcus Pike, you’d only ever see me as a friend,” he explained. “And he is me…. But the way you looked at Marcus Moreno was all I ever wanted. It was everything I wished I could have back and more. The most painful part of leaving Pike behind was losing you. It was losing the chance to tell you how I felt, and to see where we could’ve gone together.” He stepped closer, and this time she didn’t flinch away when he touched her. “It was selfish, I know. I’m sorry. But I promise you, Erin, my honeydew, my feelings for you are real. They always were. No amount of name changes and secret identities can change that.”

Unable to stop herself, Erin threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. “I missed you so much.”

He held her close and stroked her hair, basking in her warmth. “I missed you too.”

“You’re an idiot, though,” she said, clinging to him as if he would disappear if she let go. “I would’ve said yes whether or not you were Pike.”

“But?”

“But, that doesn’t mean I’m not mad,” she said. A wave of humiliation crashed over her. “If you were anyone else, I’d be gone.”

“I know,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad, and I don’t blame you if you want some space.”

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” she said softly, wincing as her head started throbbing. “I...I want space, but I’m afraid I'll lose you again. I’m mad, but I’m also….glad that my best friend is alive and well.”

“You can stay for the night, if you want,” Marcus offered, searching her gold-flecked eyes. He braced himself for the rejection, for her to scoff and storm out of his house. But it never happened.

Once everything was put away in the kitchen, they made their way up to his bedroom and got ready for bed. Sharing the bathroom as they brushed their teeth and washed their faces felt odd. Why did it feel like they’d been robbed of years of their life?

He didn’t regret marrying his late wife–no, never–but the more he and Erin spent time together, the more aware he was of just how much things could’ve been different. Everything he had was because he couldn’t tell a woman he loved her eight years ago.

Nestled against him, Erin sighed. “You don’t have to go with me on the undercover op. This job...it’s important and I can’t afford to be distracted.”

He shook his head. “No, I promised you I’d go. Everything will be alright, honey.” The familiar weight of her body against his soothed his nerves, even after everything. “I’m sorry we lost so much time. I’ll make it up to you.”

Erin didn’t respond.

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 4 years

Text

🌎 CULTURAL DIFFERENCES 🌍

Prompt: Y/N and Baron decide to take a big step in their relationship and moving in together. Everything seems to go pretty smoothly for them, until they bump into some little (and sometimes fun) cultural differences.

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Baron Corbin x Reader

Warnings: Apart from some cultural beliefs and cursing, nothing really.

Notes: I wanted to go smooth with my first fic with this giant teddy bear as a character. This little story is all based on my own country cultural beliefs. I’ve heard all of this ever since I was a little girl ok? None of this was made up! It’s written in both Y/N’s and Baron’s POV. Each scene is isolated, they do not complete each other. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Y/N, can you please explain to me why in the hell do you need all of this?” He lifts up my perfectly organized (and not so small) jewelry box

“Babe, please put that down. You’ll take all of my stuff out of order” I say as I’m finishing doing my hair

He places the box down and start to dig through the drawers.

“Jesus, babe! Did you robbed a bank to buy all of these?” He’s incredibly amused by the amount of different shapes and sizes pieces.

“Don’t let your eyes fool ya, Corbin” I laugh “Only the ones on the first drawer to the left are real”

He takes a silver thick chain with small discreet rhinestones on it and stares at the piece of jewelry.

“Oh, those are nice” I say “You can borrow ‘em if you’d like”

He looks at me “I would prefer to borrow these instead” He lifted up a golden bracelet with colorful rhinestones shaped as butterflies “What do you think? Should I wear these to work? Do you think they’ll match my outfit?” He playfully places the bracelet on top of his t-shirt, obviously mocking me, since I do the same thing when I ask his opinion.

“Shut up Corbin!” I laughed

“Why do you need so much bracelets, earrings, hoops, necklaces and rings?” He says

I look at him defiantly “Why do you need so many watches, cigars, vintage lighters and expensive cars?” I crook one eyebrow at him

“Touché, princess. My excuse is because I can, yours?” He playfully smirks

“Because that’s who I am! I grew up surrounded by women full of jewelry, lipstick and these” I show him my long nails as I stick my tongue out just like a child would

“I like those” He pointed at my nails “They feel real good when you pair them up with sweet moans begging me to go harder” He gives me one of his cocky smirks

“You’re so full of yourself” I defeatedly say

.....................…..............................................

“Hey baby girl, what you’re up to? WOW something smells really good in here”

“Oh hi” I look at Baron as he entered the kitchen “Thanks! I’m making dinner” I smile

“Oh yeah?!” He lifts a lid from one of the saucepans “What you’re cooking?”

“Nothing crazy, just a simple regular dinner. White rice, beans, some meat with potato and carrots, broccoli and cauliflower for salad. Plus milk pudding for desert, the same one my grandma always made”

“And that’s your idea of ‘simple dinner’?” He asks amused

“It is simple”

“When you said simple I thought you‘ve meant, meat and some bread or something like that” He vaguely said

“That’s like a snack, not proper dinner Baron”.

“It’s pretty common to have that for dinner you know”

I look at him in disbelief “If I ever suggested that as a dinner option back in my family’s house I would’ve been told to shut up and eat my goddamn vegetables! A proper meal isn’t a proper meal if it doesn’t have rice and beans.”

He laughs “Do you need me to get the beans for you?”

“Do you have it?” I gasp in shock

“Of course” He goes and opens one of the upper kitchen cabinets taking out a can of beans “Here” He hand it to me

My eyes widened “Please don’t tell me you eat this crap!” As I shake the can in front of his face

“What’s wrong with it?” He asks offended

“Everything Baron! If it comes in a can is not good for you! I’m talking about cooking dried beans, real beans. Not this pathetic excuse for a bean”.

“They taste the same Y/N”

“Have you ever eaten freshly cooked beans?” I ask defiantly

“No, but-“

“Then you have no right of opinion on this debate!” I huffed and he rolled his eyes

......................................................................

“What in the actual fuck?” I say as I got up from the bed.

I followed the very loud music coming from downstairs in the living room to find Y/N in some skimpy clothes, barefoot with her hair up in a bun singing and dancing to whatever rhythm that was. I go to the radio and turn the music down. Making her look behind.

“Oh you’re awake” She smiles fondly

“How could I not be with this deafening loud music? What are you doing?”

“It’s Saturday babe” She says as if that was supposed to mean something

“Yeah I know! It’s also fucking 8 a.m. and my day off! I would like to still be asleep!” I say angrily

“But it’s Saturday” She says again

“And what’s that suppose to mean Y/N?”

“Saturday is the official house cleaning day, love” She speaks slowly as if she was talking to a child “Would you like to take the bedrooms and bathrooms or the living and dining room plus the kitchen?” She smiled

“Are you fucking kidding me Y/N? I would like to sleep! Sleep until fucking noon damn it! Official house cleaning day my ass” I scream as I make my way back to the bedroom slamming the door.

......................................................................

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING BARON?” She yelled

“Jesus fuck, you scared me! I’m cleaning as you can see” I say as I grab another piece of paper towel to clean the oven

“With paper towels?! Do you plan to bankrupt us and kill the environment too?”

“And what am I supposed to use to clean it?” I ask impatiently

She reaches one of the lower drawers and take a piece of one of her old shirts from it and hand it to me.

I just stare at her confused. She sighs before saying

“You use this to clean it, after you’re done you’ll wash it, put down to dry and once is dried you’ll store it back in the drawer again for future cleaning uses! That’ll save money and prevent more trees to get killed so you can clean your oven! Do I have to teach you everything babe?” She throws her hands in the air “Unbelievable” As she lefts me with a puzzled look on my face.

......................................................................

“Baron love, have you seen my purse?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve put it in there” He points to his side of the bed as he continues with his eyes glued to his video game.

“Ok, than- Baron!” I run towards my purse, snatching it quickly from the floor “Why did you put my purse on the floor?”

“Baby, where was I suppose to put it?”

“Not on the floor! I would like to keep my money you know?!” I huffed

“And what does your purse being on the floor has to do with you keeping your money?”

“EVERYTHING! You should know that placing your purse or wallet on the floor makes your money vanish”

“WHAT? Y/N, I’m sorry but that makes zero sense princess!”

“Shut up Corbin, you know nothing!”

......................................................................

“Baron, can you get the broom for me please?” I ask as he passed by me

“Yeah, sure”

He comes back with the broom on his hand “Here, I’ll help you” As he swiped the floor

“Thank you, my love”

A few minutes after I felt the biggest fear of my life becoming true

“Oh, sorry kitten...Are you ok?”

“Baron” I whisper “Please tell me that I’m getting delusional and you didn’t swipe my feet just now”

“Yeah I did, but-“ I raised my hand for him to stop talking

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks

“Yes you did. In fact, I’m never gonna get married now thanks to you!”

“What?” He chuckled “Please don’t tell me that this is one more of your crazy superstitions?” He’s full on laughing now

“Stop laughing dumb ass! It’s not funny and you should respect those things you know?!” I say annoyed

“Whatever you say babe” He dries his tears of laughter

......................................................................

“For God’s sake what is this awful smell?” I ask to myself as I entered the living room door “Y/N?”

She didn’t answer me. I decided to go on a hunt for my own woman inside my house, when I heard some mumbling

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Shhhh Baron, don’t interrupt me!”

“What on earth is this cursed smell?” I ask ignoring her

“It’s sage and some herbs” She whispers

“I’ve had a bad dream, so this will keep all of the bad juju out of here!” She says

“You know that will-“ As soon as I was about to remind her of the smoke alarm the little prick showed himself

“Oh fuck! I forgot about that, damn it! Shut up you evil little thing!” She says as she steps on the couch and wave her hands at it “Baron! Don’t just stand there, do something boy! Go get me a piece of cloth of something like that!” As she frantically waves her hands to prevent the smoke from going to the alarm

......................................................................

“Good morning kitten” I lean down to peck her lips

“Good morning handsome” She smiles “Coffee?”

“Yes, please”

She fills one mug with black coffee and give it to me

“Thanks baby” I take a gulp “You know, I’ve had this crazy dream last night”

“Oh yeah? About what, love?”

“There was this monkey and a deer. I was chasing them or something, I don’t know it was just so weird” I look at Y/N to find her typing ferociously on her phone

“Is everything ok, kitten?”

“Sure babe! I’m just texting my sister to mark me some numbers at the loteria”

“Why?”

“Because of your dream Baron! The monkey and the deer. They have a number at the loteria so who knows? Maybe we’ll gain some money at it to save it up?”

“But we don’t need money” I look at her almost laughing

“Still” She raises her eyebrows

......................................................................

“Yeah?” I scream

*Is she really gonna make me go down there?* I sighed

“Yeah baby girl?” I ask as I open the door

“What?” She asks confused

“What do you want babe? You were calling me” I say

“No I wasn’t!”

“Yes you were Y/N, I was in the bedroom unpacking and I heard you clearly call for me two times”

“Baron, I swear on my mother’s life I did not called for you” She whispers, all the blood drained out from her face

“Oh, then I guess I misheard it”

“When you heard someone call for you, did you answered out loud?” She asks with fear in her eyes

“Well yeah! I thought you were the one who was calling me in the first place!”

She stood up from her office chair grabbing a small glass bottle with some water in it. She toss some of the water on her then on me

“What the fuck babe? What’s that?” I ask slightly angry

“Holy water! You heard something call for you with my voice, and you answered! Babe that is a bad omen, that means something evil is walking around here...Oh my God” She gasps in shock “Xander! We gotta bless him with some holy water too, we gotta protect him Baron! Oh no my poor baby Xander” She runs through the the hallway screaming for Xander.

Soon after she returns with Xander by her side. “He’s good now, thank God!” She reaches for her desk’s drawer again and grabbed a spray bottle “C’mon Baron, we’ve got to spray holy water in all of the doors and windows so it will scare away whatever that thing that called for you was” She lives her office again with the spray bottle in hand and a faithful Xander by her side.

God, why on earth did I decided to move in with that woman? She drives me crazy! But I would be lying if I said she wasn’t fun...

#baron corbin #baron corbin fanfic #baron corbin fanfiction #baron corbin x reader #baron corbin one shot #baron corbin imagine #king corbin #wwe one shot #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #masochist writes

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johaerys-writes · 3 years

Text

The Stars Will Guide Us Home

Fandom: The Song of Achilles

Pairing: Achilles/Patroclus

Summary:

During the ten-year long Trojan War, Achilles was a fighter pilot, and Patroclus his combat systems operator and best friend. Now that the war is over, the two try to figure things out as they get adjusted to life out of combat, and their lifelong friendship and comradeship grows into something... more.

Or: I wanted to write smut and my hand slipped :) Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort galore, Achilles POV.

Read on AO3!

The first time they have sex is nothing like what Achilles expects. For the most part he tries to take it slow, to savour the moment, to show Patroclus how much he cares, how long he’s wanted this, but before he knows it they’re both tearing at each other’s clothes somewhere between the bed and the hallway, and Patroclus is urging him to go faster, faster, harder— until they’re both panting, boneless and spent, on the living room floor.

And it's great. Not how he’d imagined it, but great all the same.

In truth, there’s a million different ways he’d imagined this. It’s been a dream of his ever since he can remember himself actually— not this, precisely, but being with Patroclus. Kissing him. Holding him. In all the years they've known each other, he’s gone through all the possible scenarios in his head: the dreamy ones, where he takes him to the beach they used to go to as kids, and kisses him gently, bathed in the sunset’s glow that catches in the amber flecks in the dark brown of Patroclus’ eyes. The more emotional ones, where Patroclus comes to him in the middle of the night after one of his nightmares, and Achilles is there to comfort him, as always, and their innocent, friendly cuddling turns into something more. And there are the darker, more feral ones, where Achilles grabs him and pulls him close, and they kiss with abandon before falling on the nearest flat surface.

The reality is somewhere in between all of those daydreams, and none of them at all.

Achilles has just arrived in Athens from Troy. It hasn’t been more than two weeks after the war has finally ended, but Achilles was given early honorable discharge, while the others stayed back at the base for a few more weeks. So, the first thing he did was grab the first plane he could find and fly wherever Patroclus was. Patroclus was relieved of duty about six months back because of an injury —he’s better now, it’s fine— but to Achilles it feels like an eternity since he’s last seen him. He knew he should probably have gone to Phthia first to see his old man after so many years on the battlefield, but he just couldn’t help himself.

He feels a little guilty about it, but he forgets everything the moment the plane lands, and he sees Patroclus’ bright, smiling face waiting for him at the airport arrivals.

Fuck, he’s so beautiful.

Achilles' heart is beating a frantic rhythm as he closes the distance between them in just a few strides. Patroclus’ arms come around him, as if by rote, and it feels so right to be there with him, to have him in his arms and to have his familiar, earthy scent in his nose. Achilles has missed him so much that, for a few moments, he really has no words.

He pulls back to look at him, and in the airport’s artificial lights, Patroclus’ eyes are bright like lit up stars. He looks better than he did the last time Achilles saw him: he’s healthy and joyous and his complexion looks better, more vibrant; he’s gained a little bit of weight too which is good, after losing so much of it during those last couple months in Troy. Achilles’ gaze drops to his shoulder, his arm that had been wounded, and it’s such a relief to not be able to discern any visible sign of his injury, at least not through his clothes. He catalogues everything, every small detail in his mind in crystal clear, drinking in the sight of him.

“How was your flight? Good?” Patroclus asks. He takes a small step back as they peel away from each other. They stand for a little while there, gazing at each other, and it’s a bit awkward, a bit tense, like there’s something they’re not saying.

The distance between them makes Achilles feel uneasy, but he brushes the feeling away.

“Good. Yeah. The coffee was atrocious. Couldn’t wait for it to be over.” He slinks the duffel bag that holds all of his belongings over his shoulder, then places his arm on Patroclus’ shoulders in a friendly hug as they walk towards the exits. The people they pass by turn to glance at him, their eyes swiftly taking in Achilles’ aviation officer uniform. He’s sticking out like a fly in milk, but he honestly couldn’t care less. Soon, the planes and ships will be full of soldiers returning to their home bases; they’ll all get used to the sight. “What have you been up to? Tell me all about it.”

They’ve been in touch since Patroclus left, of course. They’ve been texting and talking on the phone, Patroclus even sent him an old fashioned letter once, but it’s different now that they’re face to face. It’s like Achilles has been starved, all the while they’ve been apart, and he can’t get enough of the sound of his voice, his expressions, his laughter, the way he slips his hands in his pockets and gets a little light on his feet when he walks.

He still feels a bit heavy, the war no doubt still fresh in his mind, but he’s smiling and laughing like always. And it’s good. It’s more than good actually— it’s great.

Things have been going great ever since he came back, Patroclus says. He got into vet school with the help of one of his ex-senior officer’s recommendation letters —he’s always wanted to be a vet. He's found a flat, and he’s getting a small veteran pension too, enough for him to go by. He’s met new friends, and they’re all great. Everything’s great, really.

“It feels like I finally have a life,” Patroclus tells him, and holds the car door open for him to get in. “You know?”

Achilles is happy for him. He really is. Patroclus deserves everything good, he deserves to have the life he’s always wanted. He gets in the passenger seat and puts on some music, and, for a moment, it’s just like old times.

The air in Athens is heavy and humid, the sun blasting scorching bright above them. Patroclus takes him to one of the restaurants near the university that he likes to go —the dumplings here are great, you’ll love them— and then gives him a tour of the part of the campus that’s open for visitors.

It’s not how Achilles imagined it would be. It’s quite an old building actually, and there are pigeons nesting in the high rafters of the open hall. It’s Sunday, though, so the park out front is quiet. Only a few throngs of students lazying about on the warm grass, basking in the sun, blasting music from tiny portable speakers.

Achilles watches everything like an alien. In truth, he is. It’s been years since he last set foot outside of Troy, and before that he was almost a kid. It’s a strange feeling to find that life has actually been going on in something that’s very close to normal, all the while they’ve all been risking their lives at the other side of the Aegean.

It is odd, not fighting anymore, not being at war. Patroclus himself seems to have forgotten about it all, to have gotten used to his life here, but Achilles knows him better than this. He’s thoughtful, and there are moments when he goes quiet, and Achilles can tell there is something that’s bothering him still.

But Achilles doesn’t ask him. He doesn’t want to press him to talk. It’s what Patroclus does: he always takes his time thinking about stuff, it’s how he processes everything. And the memories from the war are still fresh. Patroclus may never have been in the thick of it for the most part, but certain things never leave you.

Achilles sinks back on the grass, and sneaks occasional glances at Patroclus, at the fiery blaze of the late spring sunset and the way it warms up Patroclus’ olive skin, the dark curls that wisp about his face when the breeze blows through them. His hair has gotten long now, caressing the back of his neck, like it used to when they were kids, before Patroclus had to crop it short for the army. Achilles falls silent when Patroclus does, and pretends not to notice the tension between them, like there’s something vibrating in the air.

They’ve been apart for too long. That’s probably it.

After the sun sets, Patroclus takes him to a bar downtown. It’s apparently a cool place that college kids like to go, hidden in a small cobble-stone lane in the old city. Once again, Achilles feels the alien there, standing out like a sore thumb, but it’s probably all in his head. He’s not wearing his uniform anymore; the tee shirt and jeans Patroclus lent him are a little too small for him, but not by much. It’s certainly strange to be wearing normal clothes again, but Achilles tries not to think about it.

He has a drink, then another, and another, and Patroclus does, too. The music is pleasant, not too loud, just loud enough for them to keep a conversation going without the silences between them getting too awkward.

Things have not exactly been the same between them since Patroclus left Troy. Achilles doesn’t exactly know what it is, but he can tell it’s on Patroclus’ mind too; it has to be. They’ve known each other too long, and they’ve gone through too much to not be able to read each other. There’s something between them now, hanging in the air like a barrier, and Achilles keeps wanting to open up, to take the conversation there, but he never does.

Instead, he keeps getting distracted by the expression on Patroclus' face. His eyes look so vivid, so bright in the dim yellow light of the bar. His cheeks are flushed, and his lips are glistening from his drink, and the way they wrap around the head of his beer bottle has Achilles’ mind going to places it shouldn’t.

So he orders another drink. He tries to act casual, and cracks a couple jokes, and then tells Patroclus about Menelaus and Agamemnon and Antilochus, all the guys from their division —those that made it back alive, but he leaves out that part— and the shadows in Patroclus’ eyes grow less and less dark.

“It’s time they all came back,” he says. “I'm just glad it's all finally over.”

Achilles nods in agreement, and takes another sip. It hasn’t been easy for anyone, that much he knows.

It’s almost midnight when they make it back to Patroclus’ flat. It’s just a short walk from the bar, and they’re both a bit buzzy from the drink. They’re not plastered by any means, but loose and relaxed and a little giggly, and Patroclus leans against him as they walk. His arm threads around Achilles’ as if by accident, his steps falling alongside his, and Achilles’ heart thrums with all the longing he’s suppressed for months, for years now, and that he’s suppressing still.

It’s fine, he tells himself as Patroclus fiddles with the key to the main building door. It’s going to be fine, though his eyes instinctively fall to Patroclus’ back, and he keeps picturing that soft dip between his shoulder blades underneath his tee shirt, the muscles that fall and rise under his skin when he moves. He tries to remember how long it has been since he’s caught a glimpse of his bare back as he was changing out of his shirt in the barracks before bed, skin still a little damp from his shower, and oh god why is he like this—

He jolts a little when Patroclus takes his hand and he leads him to the elevator. He’s not used to Patroclus’ fingers threading through his own, they’ve never really touched each other like that, but it’s a welcome change. Patroclus is still a little giggly, and his laughter reverberates off the walls of the dark entrance hall. Achilles’ arm comes around his shoulders as they watch the numbers flash in the elevator’s panel.

Ground floor. First floor. Third.

Patroclus doesn’t let him go as walks up to his flat door. He fumbles with the key a little, and when he finally pushes the door open, Achilles is almost relieved, almost a little disappointed, because walking in will probably mean letting Patroclus’ hand go, and he doesn’t really want that, but he’s not exactly sure what it means either if they keep holding each other like this.

Achilles says something to break the tension when they walk in and the door closes behind them. Patroclus laughs again, and the sound of it makes Achilles warm inside out.

He leans in and kisses him.

Read the rest on AO3!

#the song of achilles #tsoa #patrochilles #patroclus #achilles #achilles x patroclus #patroclus x achilles #tsoa fanfic #johaerys writes

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an-absolute-travesty · 4 years

Text

Secret Santa fic!

Heya @all-eternity it was me all along! I hope you enjoy this :) very much looking foward to actually being able to follow you after this without looking sketchy lmao

Also shoutout to my lovely beta reader @keepersandqueens as if I don’t talk about Salas enough here lol

Warnings: underage drinking, drinking in general, hangover, drugs/medication mention (not abused, basic over the counter stuff dw), mentions of vomit (not described)

Pairings: Kam, background marelinh, ex titz

About: Kam coffee shop college au

Word count: 5,205

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed): @cadence-talle @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlyvacksen @percabetn @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42 @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @appalyneinstitute1 @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e @mistythegenderqueermess @we-have-no-bananas-today @we-wont-dissapear @jadenightthewriter

Tam stumbled into his first 8 am class, anxiety making his heart feel like it was pounding out of his chest and stomach doing backflips.

If he could survive bouncing between foster homes, a short stint at juvie, and worst of all high school, he could survive college.

Well he thought he could until he saw a familiar person right next to the only available chair in the room.

God fucking damn it.

"Hey Bangs Boy!" Keefe waved him down, causing a scene. Tam had no option but to sit beside him, both because of the lack of chairs and the fact that everyone was now staring at him.

Not a great start.

"What a coincidence! I notice you still haven't taken my suggestions on your hair, I'm telling ya' you'd get all the girls and or guys and nonbinary pals with a man bun." Keefe looked smug at the fact he'd be able to taunt Tam for another semester, minimum. Tam was already making a mental note to check when he could swap out of classes.

"Keefe, if I knew you were going here I would've just gotten myself back in jail, oh wait, you were the one who got me in there in the first place." Tam shot him a look, praying that he'd suddenly develop superpowers and shoot lasers from his eyes.

"Hey, just because I came up with the idea...and helped with some of the execution, doesn't mean I'm responsible for you trashing your parents house. Besides, you were only in there for like 3 days max before you got out," Keefe said, shrugging as if 3 days in jail was no biggie.

"Most peaceful 3 days of my life," Tam sneered, turning back to the front of the room as the professor walked in.

"Good morning class!" the prof turned to the white board, writing his name. "I am Dr. Harding," he tapped it for emphasis.

The class was silent.

"And you say good mor..."

"Good morning Dr. Harding," The class said in unison, they all sounded tired and bored.

This wasn't going to be fun.

~*~

"Grande ice vanilla latte for...Hen-are-y?"

The man shot Keefe a look as he grabbed his coffee.

"Henry." He dropped a tip in the jar, fifty cents. How generous.

He had come in before, and never left good tips. Keefe made it a game to pronounce the names of anyone who wasn't a college student and left bad tips wrong, no matter how much they came in. It was a wonder he hadn't been fired yet.

As he turned preparing another drink, the bell at the top of the door rang. He ignored it at first until he heard a quiet, "Fuck," come from behind.

"Bangs boy!"

"Why are you here?"

"I work here obviously," Keefe walked up to the counter. "Now, what'll it be?"

Tam sighed. "Iced caramel macchiato with two extra shots of espresso."

"Size?"

"Venti."

Keefe whistled thinking about how much caffeine that was as he wrote down "Bangs Boy" on the cup.

"Alright, that'll be 5.75, may I ask why the insane amount of coffee? I believe I remember you saying caffeine makes you anxious in high school."

"Yes, but it also helps me focus, and I have a quiz tomorrow I haven't studied for."

"Fair enough," Keefe said, going to prepare the drink. "It'll be ready in five."

Tam nodded, walking off to the side and scrolling on his phone. Keefe made the drink, occasionally sneaking looks over at Tam. He didn't seem to notice, thank God.

Soon after, they finished the transaction.

"See you at class," Keefe said, he was trying to be genuine, but it came across more taunting.

Tam grimaced, muttered "Thanks for the coffee," and walked out the door.

~*~

The class fell silent as a disheveled Dr. Harding walked in, a pack of gatorade in one hand and bottle of tylenol in the other. He popped one as he sat down.

"Hello class it seems today I have the worst headache imaginable, just give me about 5 minutes of silence and we will go over your assignments."

Keefe leaned over to Tam's desk.

"Well, we know what he got into last night," he whispered. "Heard the bar on the corner of 5th was giving out two for ones for professors."

"Isn't that place run by the alumni?"

"Exactly. Gotta thank Alvar tomorrow, Fitz said it was his idea."

"Wait Fitz goes here too? Why did I not-"

"Boys!" Dr. Harding practically yelled. "I am tired of the racket." He put his face in his hands where his elbows rested on the desk, bald spot showing to the world.

"We were whispering!" Keefe made a 'what the hell' sort of gesture. Tam glared at him, hoping he could communicate 'I will kill you myself if you say another word' with just his eyes.

"Sencen, do I look like I care?"

Keefe winced a bit at the use of his last name. That was something Tam could understand.

"Look, boys," Dr. Harding stood up and turned to the chalkboard, writing something down. "If you all like talking so much, you'll love this next project."

He walked to the side, revealing the board, that read '10 page essay, due the 25th'

"With the person next to you, you'll be writing a 10 page essay on um...the importance of keeping your oil changed in your car. You'll then present it to the class. It's worth 25 points."

A student raised their hand.

"Luka?"

"Sir, I thought this was a psychology course?"

"It is. You are all excused."

With that, he left the room with his tylenol and gatorade in his arms. The students glared at Keefe and Tam as they all got up, muttering amongst themselves about the pure bullshittery of it all.

"So..." Keefe said, slowly standing. "Does the library tomorrow at 3 work? I have work until then, so it can't be any earlier."

"Yeah, sure." Tam promptly walked out of the classroom as fast as possible, he didn't know why but his anxiety was spiking. He tried to tell himself it was just because he was a useless gay that didn't know jackshit about cars, yeah, surely that was it.

Just a useless gay.

~*~

Tam waited at a table in the library, it was 3:05, Keefe was late.

He didn't know what else he expected from him, he always seemed to do stuff like this. At the same time, Tam didn't have the energy to be particularly mad at him. This was going to be the stupidest essay ever written in the history of man, might as well put it off.

The library door slammed open, and in came Keefe. He balanced a large stack of papers and books along with four drinks. He stumbled over to Tam and practically threw them down on the table.

"Sorry I'm late, I thought it would be nice to, like, get you a coffee, but I didn't know how much caffeine you wanted, so I got one decaf caramel macchiato, one normal, and one with an extra shot, and also hot chocolate for me."

He sat down in the chair by Tam, as if getting three different coffees for someone you were forced to do a project with was totally normal.

"Um...thanks, I-I can pay you back-"

"Don't worry about it." Keefe turned to him and smiled, bright and friendly. Tam was frozen. "Okay, now it's car time." Keefe turned back to the desk.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a while as they researched, Keefe going through his piles of papers and books and Tam on his laptop like any sane person would.

Tam finally worked up the nerve to talk.

"So um...this is out of nowhere, but I think you mentioned Fitz went here?"

"Oh, yeah." Keefe put down the absurdly large textbook that was set up in front of him. "He's my roommate, he uh thought it would be best not to tell you after everything, I guess."

"That's fine," Tam shrugged like he didn't care. "I'm over it."

He was, really. They only dated like 2 weeks, sure it ended with a...pretty big fight after Fitz claimed he wouldn't be able to date someone who had gone to jail and Tam reminded him it was his best friend that got him in there in the first place, but he was still over it. There was still something bothering him, nothing to do with Fitz himself but...something. He just couldn't put his finger on what.

"Alright, I'll take your word." Keefe shrugged, setting his giant book back up in front of him.

Tam felt the need to start talking again, but didn't. They were mostly silent for the next 40 minutes or so, just researching and the occasional word exchanged between them.

Keefe checked his phone.

"Shit," He got up. "Work emergency, I gotta go. Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah that works."

"Chill, see ya' later."

"Bye."

Keefe waved (with a wide grin Tam would've called idiotic in high school) as he went out the door.

Tam found himself with a smile on his own face, he quickly stopped, hoping no one saw.

~*~

Keefe hurried into work, pulling his apron on as he saw the absurdly long line and a panicked Marella frantically making coffees behind the counter. She sighed with relief when she saw him.

"Thank God," She said as he stepped behind the counter with her. "There was a scheduling error, Forkle's useless at that stuff."

Mr. Forkle, their well-meaning but often mistaken manager, was out of town at the moment. The fate of the Starbucks rested on two college kids, what could go wrong.

And so they went, Keefe taking orders and Marella fulfilling them until there were no more to serve.

Marella, quite literally, threw in a towel she had wiped her face with. Promptly going to the back, presumably for her break. Keefe followed her.

"Alright, I think you can probably go back to whatever you were doing before this now if you'd like," said Marella, inspecting the small braids in her hair in the nearest shiny surface.

"Nah I was just doing a project with Tam for Harding's stupid class, he's probably left by now, I might as well rack up some overtime."

Marella turned back at him, clearly caught off guard at the name.

"Tam? As in my-girlfriend's-brother Tam? As in you-had-a-massive-crush-on-in-highschool Tam? As in dated-Fitz Tam? As in you-got-him-in-jail-"

"Yes! Yes! Why does everyone remind me of that, it was one time."

"When you get someone in jail, people tend to remember," Marella went silent for a second, thinking, before looking Keefe in the eye. "Wow, that must be awkward as hell, I mean seriously, if I were you I'd straight up file a restraining order just to avoid him. Maybe move to another country. I hear Estonia is lovely this time of year."

"Eh, it's not as bad as it seems. I mean it was awful at first, mostly because I tried to resume right where we left it on the taunting front, but I think it's ok now."

"Hm. Well good luck with that," Marella turned back to go to the front, but Keefe grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Uh, actually I need your advice on something. It has to do with Tam."

"Shoot."

"Well I was thinking of maybe, I don't know, asking him out or something? Look, yeah, it's an awful idea but is it 'he never wants to talk to me again' awful or 'he attempts to strangle me' awful?"

Marella looked him up and down, eyes uncomfortably cold, as usual.

"I mean, no hetero, but despite your annoying qualities you're a decent looking guy. Plus Tam's, like, super anxious according to Linh, so maybe he'll be too awkward to say no. You can probably squeeze at least one date in there."

"Wow, thanks Mare," Keefe mumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, I try. Also don't call me Mare."

"Alright Ella!" Keefe called as the front door's bell rang, signalling a new customer. Marella went off to take care of it, unable to respond she growled back at him.

~*~

Tap tap tap tap tap.

Tam glared from across the table.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

Keefe looked up, muttered a simple "Fidgety" and went right back to it, tapping his pen against the table. Tam said nothing more.

Keefe had been quiet for this entire meeting, something highly unusual for him.

"Ok, seriously dude, what's up? I haven't seen you this quiet literally ever."

He only seemed to get more fidgety at this question, his bouncing leg shaking the library table.

"I...um..." he looked down, running a hand through his hair "I have a test I need to cram for and no one to study with and keep me accountable. Y'know, ADHD issues."

Tam didn't overthink for once in his life but the moment the sentence was out of his mouth he regretted it.

"I have a test too, maybe we could study together?"

Keefe smiled his annoyingly charming smile.

"Sounds good."

"Good."

Tam quickly looked back down at his computer, trying to look like he was still doing car research when in actuality he was processing he just actively offered to spend more time with Keefe Sencen.

If Linh found out about this he'd never live it down.

He didn't think he cared.

~*~

Dr. Harding walked through the classroom door, clearly much less hungover than his last appearance.

The students waited, would they get an apology? Any sort of remorse?

"Alright, who wants to read first?"

Apparently not.

Keefe raised his hand with too much confidence for what their essay looked like. Tam gave him a confused look. He had his scheming face on, never good.

"Mr. Sencen!" Keefe winced at the use of his last name by the doctor. "What an amazing start, it's only appropriate. One of you boys come up and present."

Tam gave Keefe a look of 'do you want me to do it?' Keefe just smiled and got up from his chair. This would either be really good or really, really bad. Tam was all too familiar with the scheme face.

"Doc, I did depart from the source material a bit here, hope you don't mind. And I use 'I' because Tam had no involvement in this, he deserves full points for his essay."

Keefe cleared his throat, the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"Doctor Harding deserves to get fired: an essay. (And it's only been a week!) Paragraph one, his drinking problem-"

"Sencen! Back to your seat now. I will see you after class, or I will not see you in my next class, understand?"

Keefe gave a thumbs up as he sat back on his chair with a thud.

A few minutes later, in the middle of another student's essay, he passed Tam a note with his loopy handwriting.

"The amount of comebacks I had for 'see me after class' is absurd but if I get kicked out there's no way Elwin is helping me pay tuition a second time."

Tam tried not to smile, certainly failing, as he wrote his response.

"Yeah I think the time you talked back to Miss Cadence she wanted to expel you. Lucky Principal Alina had a thing for pseudo-dad Alden."

"Oh God I haven't talked to him in a whiiiiiile."

"?"

"You haven't heard? Yeah, he sorta found out like ALL his kids were ell gee bee tees and freaked out. Della found herself a new gf though!"

"Sounds like a lovely extra punch in the gut for a queerphobe."

"Yep. Honestly I recommend looking through his Facebook sometime. Just a million rants about how the gays destroy everything, great entertainment."

"Duly noted."

At that point it seemed like the doctor started to take notice of their note passing, and they stopped quickly. Tam wouldn't be surprised if he did the whole high school read in front of the class thing with the way he had been acting so far.

Tam was 100% sure tenure was the only thing keeping this guy's job intact. Apparently being a drunk asshole wasn't near enough to get a person out of their position. He tried to ignore the professor's annoyingly smug face for the rest of the class.

~*~

Keefe sat in his usual spot at the library, Tam sitting across from him, his brown eyes dancing across the textbook page and lips mumbling along the words. He didn't have much to do, often finding himself just staring at Tam, quickly looking away if he seemed to notice.

Eventually he sighed, sitting back.

"Ugh, this test is in a week and I have so much other crap to do, I'll never get this all memorized by Friday."

Keefe silently thanked his brain for managing to get around the having to study thing. Yay, photographic memory!

"Oh, uh, well I'm free to study more tomorrow if that would help? We could do, like, flashcards or something."

Tam seemed to repress a smile. He did that a lot. Keefe always noticed.

"That's okay, I'm sure you have better things to do. The Starbucks is always pretty packed."

"Eh, sometimes you have to get away from Marella. She's mean to me."

"Not just you, once she told me if I ever made fun of Linh's cat's name again she'd make me cut off my own bangs."

Keefe nodded sagely. "The shorter you are the closer to hell. That's why you're worse than her."

"Hey!"

Tam flicked a stray rubber band at Keefe.

"I'm at least 2 inches taller than Marella...we measured."

Keefe thought up about 12 inappropriate jokes he couldn't make before flicking the rubber band back.

"Two inches only counts in roller coasters, none of which you can ride."

Tam stuck his tongue out before returning to his studies. Unlike Tam, Keefe didn't hide his smile.

~*~

Tam strolled into the Starbucks that Friday morning, no longer surprised to see Keefe working the counter. He could barely hold still in line as he thought about the amount of cramming he'd have to do in the next few hours.

When he reached the counter, Keefe said nothing, just busily worked making a drink.

He stuck it right out at Tam.

"One venti iced caramel macchiato with 2 extra shots of espresso because you have a test today in political science and still haven't studied everything and also a muffin because you probably haven't eaten today. On the house. Good luck with the studying."

Tam froze.

"I- um- th-thaks. Y-you too...sport."

Oh, you fucking idiot.

He quickly scurried out of the Starbucks with drink and muffin in hand. Wow, he had screwed that up.

But...

Keefe...

He...

He remembered his order and that he had a test and that he forgot to eat when he was stressed holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-

Okay, deep breaths Tam, you got this. You can totally handle a frustratingly cute guy showing care for you this is fine...

Not fine, not fine, gotta tell Linh.

He called Linh with no forewarning. Despite the fact that she was currently across the country at a different university, and it was about 3 am for her, she picked up. He barely let her get out a groggy "Hello?" before explaining everything. She only seemed to think a moment before responding.

"Hm. Well it's good to know that college is going good for you. Do you need advice or comfort?"

"Yes."

"Well, first of all, everything's gonna be okay. And I know that doesn't help much but just try to remember we're eighteen, and it's not the end of the world. Second of all, try to ask him out or something. It doesn't have to be framed as a date, like Marella and I got together on a walk in the park, seriously it can be anything."

"Thanks Linh."

"No problem, also can you hug Marella for me?"

"If she doesn't try to kill me first, yes."

"Nice. Okay go do what you gotta do, also don't wake me up at 3 am again or else I'll sic Purryfins on you, I had just gone to bed."

With that she hung up and Tam continued on his way, still trying to not completely freak out.

~*~

Keefe stared blankly as Tam walked right out of the door. Marella appeared by his arm.

"So, how'd it go?"

"Well, he called me 'sport'."

Marella inhaled through her teeth.

"Yikes. Comfort, advice, or distraction?"

"Distraction, please." Keefe replied, absent-mindedly preparing a cup for the next customer.

"Uh, well I meant to ask you what ended up happening with that ass of a teacher, but I got a bit distracted at your attempt to woo Tam-"

"Hey I said distraction not reminder. But basically I just got a slap on the wrist because, and I quote, 'Your father is Cassius Sencen! He wrote half the books we use in this class, I'm sure he can straighten you out!'"

"There's absolutely nothing papa Sencen could do to make you straight, I'm pretty sure he tried that, and it obviously didn't work."

"He actually tried a few times and it most definitely did not. Lucky he doesn't have my number anymore or else I assure you he'd keep trying."

Marella laughed.

"Well, moving on from grade A assholes, I'm supposed to tell you there's a party tonight. I'll have to send you the address later, I have it on my phone though, I am told there's gonna be booze, so I'm going."

"Eh, I'll probably go. Just to get my mind off everything."

"Thata boy." She lifted her phone. "And my shifts over in three, two, one, and I am out of here! See ya' tonight Hunkyhair."

"That's Lord Hunkyhair to you."

She just rolled her eyes and clocked out, leaving Keefe to deal with both the customers and his own thoughts.

~*~

Tam sat in his dorm room alone, constantly refreshing his grades for the possibility that his 70-year-old professor would post the test results at 1:30 am.

His roommate was gone for the weekend, actually he was gone most of the time. Tam didn't think they'd even had a full conversation before.

He jumped as his phone began to ring, a call from Keefe of all people. He hesitantly picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Tam! Tam Tam Tam Tam Tam" Keefe's slurred speech was too loud for a phone call, Tam held his phone a bit away from his ear. "...fuck wait why did I call you..."

There was a long pause, neither said anything.

"Oh yeah! I needed to tell you something...but uh I uhm I forgot what it was."

"Keefe, where are you?"

"At a paaaaaarty, well, actually just outside a party because it was hot in there, but now it's cold out here so uh yeah."

Tam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, send me the address, I'm coming to pick you up. Wait right there and don't move."

"Okie dokie."

Tam heard a thud sort of sound and the rustling of grass from the other line before Keefe hung up and soon after got a message of his location.

After 20 minutes of walking in the cold, Tam came up to what seemed to be a frat house with Keefe sitting on the lawn in criss-cross, patiently waiting in short sleeves and basketball shorts, way too little clothing for the weather. His ruddy face smiled as he saw Tam approach.

"Tam! I remembered what I was going to tell you." He stood up, face falling right after. "Oh no wait I forgot again. Ooh! You need a drink."

Keefe grabbed Tam's hand, pulling him towards the house. Tam stayed in place.

"Hey, let's get you home dude."

Keefe pouted.

"I don't wannaaaa."

He slouched down, pulling on Tam's arm like a child having a tantrum.

Tam pulled him back up to his feet.

"C'mon, if you go to your dorm without fuss I'll buy you ice cream tomorrow."

Keefe seemed much more ok with going along with Tam with the ice cream deal. He pulled off his own coat and placed it around the very drunk boy, he didn't complain.

Keefe began humming some annoying song from the early 2000s that was playing from the house earlier as they walked back in the direction of the dorms.

Suddenly, Tam remembered something.

Fitz was Keefe's roommate.

Shit.

"Hey uh do you think Fitz is at your dorm?"

Keefe nodded confidently.

"Yep! Said he was gon' study. Wouldn't come to the party because of his 'reputation' or whatever."

Around reputation he did exaggerated finger quotes, nearly knocking Tam's jacket off his shoulders.

"Hm...in that case let's go to my dorm, ok?"

Keefe shrugged, apparently willing to go along with most things in his current state. Thank goodness Linh had made Tam bring extra pillows and blankets to college, he could sleep on the floor and just hope Keefe didn't get sick on him in the night.

It was ridiculously hard to lead Keefe back to his dorm. He tried to pull down his pants halfway there and Tam almost had to carry him up the stairs but soon enough they got there. He sighed with relief as he led his inebriated friend into the room.

"Okay, you can stay here for the night. I'll sleep on the floor."

Keefe plopped himself down on Tam's bed laying flat for only a moment before sitting up with a snap and a look of realization in his eyes.

"OOH! I remember what I was gonna tell you again!"

"Oh?" Tam said playing along, expecting him to forget again.

He patted the spot next to him on the bed, Tam continued to play along, sitting next to him.

"So Marella said that I should just tell you this, and it worked for her, so I'm gonna. And uh and you have to promise to listen 'cause I'm not sayin' it again."

At this point Keefe grabbed his face with both hands, staring right in Tam's eyes and squishing his cheeks.

"You're listening right?"

Tam nodded, mostly to shake Keefe's hands off his face.

"Okay."

Keefe took in an over dramatic breath as if he was preparing to preform in the Olympics before getting another grin on his face.

"I really like you."

"You really like me?"

He nodded mumbling "mhm".

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I like you. Like, like like you."

"Like...as a friend?"

"I said I wasn't gonna repeat myself. As a booooyfriend." At this point Keefe fell back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. Tam's cheeks were burning.

"How long have you liked me like that?"

"Mmmm..." Keefe seemed to ponder for a moment, "Prolly high school."

"Oh um...good to know. You should get some rest. I'll be down here if you need me."

"Alrighty."

Tam shut off the lights and Keefe started snoring quick. Tam could only stare up in the darkness, unable to sleep.

~*~

Keefe woke up that morning in a room he didn't recognize to a killer headache and dead phone.

He turned to the side, seeing a pile of blankets and pillows with a large gatorade, bottle of tylenol, and a note next to it. Suddenly last nights memories came flooding back.

Oh, shit.

He scrambled out of bed, headache and nausea hitting him harder as he stood up.

Despite the fact his head was spinning, he picked up the note from the ground and read it.

Hey, meet me at the reservoir around 6, we need to talk -Tam

F. U. C. K.

Had he really said all that stuff last night? Surely it was a dream, right?

Oh God.

He gathered his few belongings, plus the things to help the hangover, and left the dorms as fast as possible. Only having to stop once along the way to throw up in one of the campus trash cans, hopefully no one would notice.

Keefe didn't have anything to do and he really didn't want to face Fitz so he went about his day in last nights clothing. Then again, it was a college campus. Someone walking around with rumpled clothes carrying a gatorade probably wasn't that big of a deal for most people. By 5:30 he sat impatiently in the empty park where the reservoir was located, it was colder closer to the water.

Just as promised, at 6 o'clock he saw Tam approaching on the horizon.

~*~

Tam was damn near a panic attack as he walked around the park attempting to find Keefe. Eventually he found him, sitting on a bench still in his clothes from last night, face once again ruddy from the cold. He sat next to him wordlessly.

"So," Keefe started.

"So," Tam replied, looking down at his lap.

"Tam I-" Keefe turned to face him. "I'm sorry about everything last night, I probably just made everything super awkward. Not to mention it's a giant violation of the friend code to even have a crush on your best friend's ex-"

"Yeah, about that."

"What?"

"You're gonna maybe kill me for this but uh," Tam pulled on his bangs. "I sorta talked to Fitz about it, I figured you wouldn't and apparently I was right. He said he was okay with it as long as we were ok with it."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Tam sighed, "Perhaps."

Keefe once again wore that shit-eating grin of his.

"Can I hear you say it?"

"Why don't you have to say it?"

"Already said it last night! Your turn now. Why did you take care of me while I was drunk?"

Keefe stared at Tam excitedly waiting for the answer. Tam sighed.

"Because I love you, little shit."

"Ooh you said it-"

Tam smashed his lips against Keefe's, both quickly melting into it. After only a moment they pulled away.

"Agh, you taste like gatorade and vomit."

"Well you taste like salt so really what's worse."

"Definitely the vomit."

Despite this, Tam leaned back in. This kiss was a moment longer than the last, and when Tam pulled away Keefe chased it.

"Ok, look I'm sorry but you look like shit Keefe you have to go change." Tam removed his jacket, throwing it around Keefe once again and helping him up from the bench. Keefe laughed.

"Yeah, you're right. Ooh now that we're a thing you need a new nickname!"

"I do?"

"You do, how about 'Bangs Boyf' ooh or maybe you can be my 'provoked partner' or my 'snappy spouse' my 'agitated accomplice' perhaps."

"Do you just have these ready and prepared for any situation?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"You aren't Houdini, you're an 18-year-old boy that currently reeks of frat party."

"Eh that's basically the same thing. I've seen some 18-year-olds at frat parties preform tricks Houdini could never dream of."

Tam sighed dramatically. "It's a good thing you're pretty, you know."

"Hey!" Keefe jokingly shoved him.

For the first time Tam's smile wasn't repressed.

#hope you like this elliot!#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kam #keefe sencen #tam song #kotlc fic #scheduled to post at 9 am and ill reblog once i get back to my phone because ill be doing x-mas stuff

60 notes · View notes

love-dreams · 4 years

Text

build a rocket with me

pairing: joshua/reader

genre: angst, fluff

content: angst, break-up, long distance!au, idol!au emotional cheating, seunghee from clc!, angst ending

wc: 5k

note: omg 5k, i’m gonna be writing a part two for this too! thank you so much to @secndlife for helping me edit.. you’re amazing and i appreciate it so much. inspo: 《rocket》by seventeen (joshua and vernon), a continuation of my own long distance au blurbs: blurb1 blurb 2, netflix original: love alarm, @tonicandjins lie to me

It’s early in the morning when Joshua arouses you from your slumber, with a gentle shake and a soft, husky whisper, laced with drowsiness. The curtains are strewn shut in the dark room, the only source of light was the thin crack between the door and the wall of your bedroom. After another lackadaisical attempt to pull you out of your reverie, you opened your eyes, glancing sleepily up at your boyfriend through half-lidded eyes, a yawn already beginning to lodge itself in your throat. Groggily, you try to force your body upright with your forearms but your body is heavy from sleep and your limbs are limp without energy in the early morning.

“Josh, what time is it?” you mumbled, with an arm stretching out and fingers pawing at the bedside table for your glasses.

You yawned mid-sentence, causing Joshua to chuckle, bending his body slightly over yours to impel you gently back to your original position. You gave in without resistance, arm limply hanging off the side of the bed and messy curls of hair framing your face on the pillow.

He gazed into your sleepy orbs lovingly, caressing the side of your face with smooth strokes of his thumb. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I have to leave now. For tour. The guys and manager-hyung are waiting for me.”

In your sleep induced haze, you don’t fully comprehend Joshua’s words, lips mouthing an automatic, “Bye bye,” and your body already relaxing into the cushions.

Joshua couldn’t hold back the smile tugging at his lips, his heart feeling a little heavier as he gently pulled the door shut until it clicked, leaving you shroud in darkness once more. The last memory you have of that encounter was the warmth of your blankets embracing you.

“You should have woken me up!” you complained over the phone after you woke up. With a bloated face and oily skin, tangled strands of hair floating over your sight, Joshua almost chuckled at the fact that, even after just waking up, you were thinking about him. “I wanted to see you one last time before you left.”

Joshua smiled through the screen, a sleepy, exhausted smile, slight circles discoloring the skin under his eyes. “I didn’t want to, it was super early and I knew you had plans for the next day too.”

You pouted slightly, disappointed at the fact that you couldn’t send Joshua off to the airport, where he would soon be leaving for SEVENTEEN’s Asia tour. For three whole months. Just thinking about the time spent away from him made your heart hurt and your head swim.

As you pulled out a chair from the countertop, you faintly noticed the white styrofoam box empty of its contents on top of a table behind Joshua.

“You already ate?” you questioned through a mouthful your breakfast ensemble.

Joshua nodded his head, a tired sigh escaping from his lips. He grabbed the phone off from where it was resting against a tissue box and collapsed onto the hotel bed, holding up his phone high above him, vertically, allowing you to see the crisp white sheets contrasting Joshua’s dark-colored hair; you could see the planes and slopes of his face and the slight dark circles rimming his beautiful chocolate brown orbs. Even then, sleep-deprived and bare-faced, he looked beautiful.

He heaved another sigh, eyelids fluttering shut momentarily. “I miss you, Y/N.”

You purse your lips, trying to formulate an answer that will satisfy Joshua. “I do too, Shua. Work hard but don’t push yourself too hard, got it? Tell the other guys that as well,” you managed.

Joshua opened his eyes to stare at you through the screen. For a moment, there was a flicker of unease in his blank stare, causing your heart to stutter for a beat, but then, like a flick of a switch, his lips morphed back into a melancholy smile. “Okay, I will. Take care of yourself as well.”

You nodded, mirroring his smile, “I always do, Joshua.”

🟊 🟊 🟊 🟊 🟊

You really hoped that you could hold down the fort on your own without your boyfriend’s presence, but by the second week, it became apparent that you were heartbroken. Each passing day of living your life in absence of your boyfriend chipped at your heart; coming home to an empty home, eating dinner by yourself with two containers of takeout, routinely checking your phone for calls or texts. Your head was constantly plagued by worries of your boyfriend, if Joshua was eating well, if Joshua was tired from rehearsal, what Joshua saw that day; it became near-suffocating.

The daily phone calls dwindled to once every few days to once or twice each week. Every evening you would make dinner for yourself, shower and sit, alone, under the covers of your bed, waiting beside your phone to see if he would call; sometimes he did and sometimes he didn’t. Either way, you had developed an unhealthy habit of staying up late at night until the sky was jet black and the city was silent, waiting in the dim, silent bedroom until you fell asleep.

“Hey baby, how are you? I’m sorry for not calling yesterday.”

A month had passed and Joshua was still touring with the other SEVENTEEN members. At this point you had developed a steady rhythm to your life and, although the yearning for your boyfriend was still present in your heart, you had started to feel a little happier and less lonely.

In the background you could faintly make out other echoes of voices, informing you that your boyfriend wasn’t alone in the room. It looked like a new hotel room as well; the sheets were crisply tucked into the mattress with thick cream-colored blankets laying neatly on top.

“It’s fine, we were performing anyway and didn’t get back until way late. Have you been eating well?”

You smiled half-heartedly, a little bloom of warmth nestling in your chest from his concern. You uncrossed your hands from your lap, poking your chopsticks at the little untouched grains of white rice in your bowl. “Yeah, and you? I hope you’re eating proper meals.”

“Shua! The kimchi fried rice is here!”

Joshua’s lips broke out in a grin and yours cracked into a small smile as well at Jeonghan’s voice.

“Okay, wait a sec,” Joshua whispered. “I’m talking to Y/N right now!” he called back. Dropping his gaze back to you, Joshua frowned apologetically, “Baby, can-”

“Go get your food, Shua,” you interrupted reassuringly, “Make sure to take care of yourself okay? And I promise to do the same.”

Joshua nodded and tilted his head endearingly, “I will and I love you, Y/N.”

Then he hung up.

On one fateful Saturday morning, your friend and coworker, Seunghee, decided to take you out to a cafe as a cure for your loneliness. It was a small cafe nestled in the city landscape, with large windows letting the rays of morning glow dance across the polished wooden floor. The two of you seated yourselves by one of the glass windows and ordered coffee with some snacks.

“So,” she leaned in, interlacing her fingers and resting on her elbows, with her weight over the table. “Tell me what’s going on with you and Joshua.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise of the sudden question, choking on the green plastic straw of your iced americano. You coughed slightly, reaching for a napkin to dab at your moist lips. “I’m not sure what you mean. Josh and I are fine. We even called… just the other day,” you trailed off, voice growing weaker at the end.

Seunghee rolled her eyes disbelievingly, retracting her arms to reach for her drink, taking a sip as well. “Oh yeah? Then tell me why you’ve been arriving to work looking like you’ve stayed up all night crying to rom coms.” You chortled in disagreement but didn’t refute what she said. “C’mon Y/N, you obviously have something up. Are you two fighting or something?”

“No, no,” you shook your head. You pushed your drink aside, folding your hands neatly on top of your skirt in an effort to look organized, brushing stray strands of hair out of your frame of vision, tucking them neatly behind your ears. Averting your gaze to the large windows of sunlight, you spoke softly, “We’re not fighting or anything. It’s just a little hard to explain.”

Seunghee nodded, backing off and scrunching her nose in discontent. “Well, that’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, just lemme know when you’re comfortable, okay? I’m worried about you.”

You smiled and gratefully thanked her for asking about you, settling into a prickly, awkward silence between the two of you. That serious atmosphere was finally lifted after a waitress delivered your orders; the two of you thanked her profusely and continued on with another light-hearted conversation. In the middle of drinking your coffees and taking small bites out of your sandwiches, Seunghee left for the restroom, grabbing her purse and phone to retouch on her makeup, all the while leaving you alone with your plates of food all by yourself.

You could hear the background cafe sounds of a coffee maker grinding and the rush of cars in the street; the city was just starting to wake up for the day ahead. It was a peaceful, and calm atmosphere, with a few more customers trickling in, it was like you were surrounded by a bubble of tranquility-

“Hey.”

Your head whipped around in surprise, heart jumping two beats. Your head turned side to side frantically as your eyes scanned the desert of vacant tables and chairs for the sudden voice.

“Oh, sorry for surprising you! I’m over here, haha,” he laughed shyly, scratching his head awkwardly.

Turning a whole 180 degree rotation, behind you, you were met with the smiling face of a stranger. He was sitting backwards on his chair, head resting across his arms hanging over the back of it.

You let out a breath of relief, head falling forward slightly.

“Um, hi, do I know you?”

He grinned wider, a line of straight white teeth and full, pink lips. You refused to note the way that your heart skipped a beat and your cheeks became warm.

“No, but you can now! I’m Leo, and you must be Y/N?” He spoke in an optimistic, cheerful manner adorned with a cute eye smile. He radiated a type of innocence like the morning sun that was, at this time, turning into a blazing, burning heat outside of the air-conditioned building.

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling apprehensive and suspicious. “Yes, my name is Y/N, and how do you know that?”

Leo chuckled and leaned back a little, sheepishly saying, “I may or may not have overheard your conversation with your friend... Seunghee, right?”

You parted your lips to respond but before you could, Seunghee was back from her trip to the restroom. Her lips were painted bold, apple red lipstick, and a new coat of mascara was applied onto her eyelashes.

She halted in front of the table, confusedly glancing between you and Leo. “Sorry, am I interrupting something here?”

You reeled back, turning away from Leo to face Seunghee. Plastering a smile on your face, you shook your head, “Ah, no. We were just making small talk while I was waiting for you.” Seunghee raised an eyebrow disbelievingly, but slid into her seat anyway, a little smirk present on her face as she daintily bit into her sandwich. By the time the two of you had finished your meals and drinks, it was already a little past noon and the city was full in motion. Cars were whizzing by on the streets, accompanied by a steady rush of footsteps on the sidewalk.

As you got up from your seat, grabbing your things along with you, you noticed that the stranger hadn’t left yet, head buried in a book and a forgotten cup of coffee on the table.

You felt a nudge to your side, glancing behind you in annoyance. “Go!” Seunghee whispered encouragingly, pushing you toward the male and walking briskly away to pay for your food.

Leo looked up, just as you stumbled toward him, unsteady footsteps drawing his attention away from the book.

“Wait- I-. Hi. Um, sorry, my friend-” you stammered, sweat already beginning to build up at the uncomfortable situation your friend had just pushed you into.

His face broke into a smile, taking off his round-rimmed glasses and closing his book softly. “Hi Y/N.”

You turned your head to scan for Seunghee, but she was already vacant from the cafe, leaving you by yourself in the most awkward situation you would have imagined. You sighed in slight annoyance, fingers pinching at your nose in habit.

“I’m sorry, my friend… Seunghee pushed me, I didn’t mean to bother you or anything. She thinks I might be interested in you or something, I’m really sorry.”

Leo maintained his eye smile, gesturing dramatically at the chair opposite to him for you to sit down. Cautiously, you slid into the seat, tucking your skirt underneath you clumsily. Your eyes darted from Leo to the counter, then to the windows on your left.

He took a sip of his coffee, unbothered by the nervous tension radiating from you. Scrunching his nose from the bitterness, Leo set down the cup and folded his hands in his lap. “It’s okay, we can’t control our attraction, not that I’m saying you like me or anything. We can’t control a lot of our feelings,” he paused tracing the lettering on the cover of the book. “We feel what we feel, loneliness, love, anger, that’s all natural and you shouldn’t feel apologetic.”

You nodded, fingers twisting the fabric of your skirt into wrinkles. “I guess you’re right, but don’t we have to be understanding sometimes? I just think that always conveying our emotions is sometimes selfish.”

Leo tilted his head, lips pursing, “I heard that you and your boyfriend are going through something? Do you want to talk about it?”

You averted your gaze to pick at the sleeve of your dress. “Yeah, he’s on tour at the moment, so I guess I decided to go out for once.”

“You sound a little unhappy about that.”

You scrunch your eyebrows together, trying to choose your next words carefully with consideration. “Well, it does get a little lonely, but he’s pursuing his dream, and that’s all that matters. I wanna support him on this.”

“And you? Do you have any life goals?”

You paused again, leaning back into the chair. “I’m aspiring to be a writer, so yeah, I suppose.”

“Wow, aren’t you two an artsy couple, huh.”

You smiled in slight embarrassment, cheeks rising in temperature. “I guess we are. How about you? Any life goals?”

He broke into another breathtaking grin, hopes and aspirations pouring out of his mouth like a waterfall. As you sat with him, you felt so refreshed and energized with a new bout of motivation. Your heart swelled in happiness for the first time in weeks and you couldn’t help the broad smile tugging on your lips.

When he finally paused, you voiced your thoughts, “Thanks for chatting with me, Leo, I hope I didn’t take up too much of your time.”

Leo grinned, choosing to ignore your statement. He rose his cup to gulp down the last droplets of his now cold coffee. Letting out a discontent sigh, he gazed forlornly at the empty cup. “Unfortunately, by talking to you all this time I neglected my poor cup of coffee. As payment, you could, I don’t know, give me your number?”

You held his gaze with a warm smile, a shy blush creeping onto your cheeks and a faster tempo playing in your heart. It was endearing, his attentiveness to you. A therapeutic sense of calm washed over you and you couldn’t help but feel grateful and indebted.

You agreed on impulse, without an inkling of hesitation in your voice.

After paying (Leo insisted on doing so, for the both of you), the two of you exited the cafe together and parted ways good-naturedly. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, you pulled out your phone, you saw multiple text messages from Seunghee and a couple missed calls.

Dialing her number, you raised your phone to your ear hesitantly, glancing at the people strolling past you.

“Hello?”

“Jesus Y/N, do you know how long you spent there? It’s been almost two hours already! You have a boyfriend, you know?”

You laughed her comment off, twirling a strand of hair around your index finger and kicking at the loose gravel pieces. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Seunghee, and don’t worry, it wasn’t like that. We talked a little and, it’s fine, he already knows that I have a boyfriend.”

Seunghee huffed, “Fine, but I can’t believe you ditched me like that, I thought we were friends.”

“Technically, you ditched me first.”

She mockingly sighed, “For the good of your sorry relationship! Anyway, stay safe on the way home and text me later.”

You called for a cab, sitting in the leather backseat quietly with your phone in hand. Pulling up Leo’s contact evoked a smile on your face; the two of you had exchanged numbers in the midst of having more-than-one cup of coffee together, and also having more conversation than you had had with Joshua for months. You held your phone up to your chest, heart beating rapidly and eyelids shut in imagination. Your thoughts drifted to Leo’s smile, his brushed, brown locks of hair, his plush, peach lips-

Joshua.

A truck of guilt smashed you out of your reverie, sending tremors of stress and anxiety to vibrate through your body. It was a crushing type of guilt that squeezed at your heart and collapsed your lungs. Adrenaline rushed through your veins, and you clenched your fists out of reflex. You were just romanticizing about another man when you were in a perfectly content, perfect relationship with your boyfriend. In your head, you could only imagine what Joshua’s face would look like if you told him what you had happened or the feelings that you had felt.

The second the taxi pulled up to your street you pushed the car door open wide, swaying slightly on your feet, feeling distraught and shameful, knowing that it would only be downhill from that point onward.

🟊 🟊 🟊 🟊 🟊

“If you’re not happy with Josh then you should break up with him.”

You leaned back in your reclining chair, head tilting backwards and eyes squeezing shut from the bright light. You rubbed at your temples, trying to fend off the impending migraine creeping into your skull. “It’s not that easy, Seunghee, and I am happy with Josh.”

Seunghee spun you around, throwing herself into the empty chair beside you. “Is this about that guy we met in the cafe the other day?”

You opened your eyes in surprise, a sudden bout of stress striking your stomach. “Wh-what? What about him?”

Seunghee leaned on your desk, rolling her eyes, “It’s obvious. You clearly like him, and maybe that’s a good thing.”

“No, it’s not,” you adamantly denied, fingers digging into your computer keyboard as you pounded the backspace key. “I’m dating Joshua, and I barely know Leo, we saw each other for one day and that’s it.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Well maybe you should get to know this Leo guy better.”

You turned around, eyes narrowing into a withering glare. “Seunghee, stop it. I’m trying to figure out how to talk to Josh, not destroy our relationship.”

Seunghee backed off, reluctantly standing up and holding her hands out in defeat. “Okay, okay, I’m just saying that, it’s not fair for you to be ignored either.”

You stayed silent that time, fingers pausing slightly over the keys as you pondered her statement. You readjusted your glasses, tucking another strand of hair behind your ear.

“Like, when was the last time the two of you even called?”

When was the last time you heard Joshua’s voice? Or held each other? You were even beginning to forget the features of his face: the curve of his nose, the plush of his lips were all fading away.

Your heart sunk in your chest, “I’m not even sure anymore.”

🟊 🟊 🟊 🟊 🟊

You started to prepare dinner, taking out your ingredients out of the refrigerator meticulously in an organized fashion, a complete contrast to your actual state of mind. Your head was too wrapped up in your own thoughts to even concentrate on the vegetables being laid out in front of you. Scenarios upon scenarios filled your brain to the brim, until the stress and anxiety bubbled over; your hands shook while holding the knife when thinking about how to explain to Joshua about Leo and your stomach cramped at the mere thought of Joshua’s facial expression. Bringing down the knife onto the cutting board, you rapidly finished preparing your ingredients.

The dial tone of your phone rang through the sound of the kitchen machinery, the sound echoing through the empty apartment. You quickly scooped up some of the fried rice into a porcelain white bowl, setting it down on the countertop along with your eating utensils.

Shakily, you pressed “accept” on the screen, Joshua’s face popping up within seconds adorning a wide smile and shiny crescent eyes full of happiness.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and suddenly you felt a rush of light-headedness.

“Y/N! I’ve missed you so much, it’s so good to see your face again,” he said softly, fond adoration present in his voice.

You nodded shallowly, poking at the rice grains with your chopsticks absentmindedly. “I’ve missed you too,” you mumbled in a lackadaisical manner, your eyes refusing to meet him.

“Y/N?” Joshua trailed off, a confused look on his face with flashes of hurt present in his eyes. “Is there something bothering you?”

You swallowed roughly, fingers roughly gripping onto your chopsticks.

Just spit it out, do it, do it, do it now-

“I-I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Silence. Dead, immovable silence. Your heart stopped beating and it felt like your ears were on fire, taking in every movement of sound.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up briefly to assess the damage, but it was like the screen was frozen: Joshua’s facial expression was frozen, but his eyes were devoid of the smile from before. For a moment, you were scared that the connection had timed out and that you wouldn’t have the courage to repeat your statement. Then you noticed the slight trembling of his pink lips, frail and shy like blush flower petals.

“You don’t mean that,” he managed out in a spluttering breath, a fake smile plastered onto his face.

You shook your head, voice a little louder this time, “I want to break up, Joshua.”

Your veins were on fire and your vision was constricted to just the phone screen. It was like a tsunami of pent up emotions, sadness, anger, loneliness, were rushing to shore, spilling out of your mouth in a single sentence.

Joshua repeated your gesture, shaking his head rapidly. His head tipped down in a mess of hair so you couldn’t see his face. “You said that the distance didn’t matter, that you were still mine! I thought-I thought we were fine together.”

Joshua’s voice broke at the end. You noticed the slight heaving of his shoulders and chest and the quiet sniffles of his tears.

Taking a deep breath to control your nerves, you firmly rebuffed him, “I thought differently back then. We’re both reaching our peaks in our careers, I don’t want us to get in the way of both of our dreams.”

You could see Joshua trying to calm down his rapid breathing, a hand coming up to wipe the shimmering droplets off his cheeks.

“Did-did I do something wrong?” he stammered. “I don’t want to give up on us, Y/N. Can you just explain yourself a little bit? Just a little. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can figure it out, together.”

You took another deep breath in, letting your eyelids fall shut for a moment. After a couple beats of silence, you brusquely answered him, “I’m sorry, Josh. I’m really tired, I don’t want to come home to a silent house, or go to bed by myself waiting for you. I’m tired and I’m also lonely. These once a week phone calls just aren’t enough for me, and I know that you’re busy, I understand that. I just don’t think I can wait for you anymore. The group is doing super well overseas, and I would never want you to have to choose between your career and me.”

You stopped for a moment to contemplate your next words. Joshua was silent and unmoving except for the slight shudders of sobs and fluttering of his eyelashes. When he didn’t respond, you continued, driving your next words deep into Joshua’s flesh and skull. “I’m choosing for you, for us. I’m choosing to let you go.”

Your words rung in the silence between the two of you, in the background of your side of the screen, you could hear the slight hum of the lights and the city bustle on loop outside. Contrary to you, Joshua heard nothing but your words replaying in his mind in his empty hotel room. He had asked the other members to leave since he wanted the call to be private and more meaningful. Now, alone, his mind had tuned out from reality, feeling slightly dizzy from the sudden rush of emotions: sadness, despair, hopelessness. He swallowed, his dry throat protesting from the harshness, but refused to take a sip of water from the bottle in front of him.

“Josh? Are you still there?” you asked gently, worry creeping into your voice.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. He grabbed a tissue to dry his tears. “I’m tired, Y/N. I’m going to hang up now and go to sleep.”

“Okay…” you hesitantly agreed, “Sleep well, Joshua.”

“I will.”

And then he hung up, collapsing into the armchair in wracking, heartbreaking sobs.

🟊 🟊 🟊 🟊 🟊

“Wait, what? What do you mean Y/N broke up with you?”

Joshua groaned at Jeonghan’s incredulous tone, covering his face with the hotel pillow, the white covering crinkled and stained from his tears. Digging his face deeper, Joshua didn’t even know where to begin. It was as if the more he tried to understand you, the more he grew entangled in his never-ending web of questions.

“She said she was doing it for me,” he mumbled into the pillow. Joshua turned so he was facing Jeonghan, arms gripping the cushion to his chest. “And the worst part is that I don’t even know this was coming.” He sat up, legs crossed, to look at Jeonghan through puffy, red eyes. “Y/N was probably thinking about this for weeks and I didn’t even know. And I didn’t even call her for two weeks.” A tear slipped off the bridge of his nose, little droplets darkening the sheets. “I was hurting her all this time and I didn’t even know,” he sniffled.

Jeonghan sighed and slung an arm around his best friend, hugging him close to his body as Joshua cried his eyes out, another wave of sobs wracking his frame.

Jeonghan patted Joshua’s back while listening to the sobs of the other male, letting his arm hang limp around him. “I don’t understand either. Y/N seemed fine when you guys were calling each other, something must’ve happened for her to make this decision so abruptly.”

His sobs died down as Joshua tried to catch his breath. He looked up, “What do you mean?”

Jeonghan exhaled, bringing up one hand to ruffle through his hair. “I don’t know man, I think you two have to talk though. Face to face. It’s not fair for her to break up with you through a call, you know, closure and stuff.”

Joshua nodded along, slowly drying his tears. He reached over for a tissue, blowing hard and throwing it into the trash bin. He stared at the blank sheets before saying determinedly, “Yeah, you’re right. I need to talk to her face to face.”

🟊 🟊 🟊 🟊 🟊

The second the members left the airplane, stepping out into the airport lobby, Joshua pulled out his phone, fingers flying over the keys in a text message. “Hey Y/N, I’m home...” He paused, thoughts whirling in his head, thumb hovering over the send button.

“Shua!”

Joshua glanced up to see the members standing a few steps before him, all of them adorning confused, exhausted expressions, some annoyed, some indifferent to his aloofness.

He quickly tucked his phone back into his back pocket, taking quick strides to reach the other boys.

“Hey man, you okay?” Mingyu muttered under his breath as Joshua caught up to him.

“I’m fine,” he responded nonchalantly, walking closer to Jeonghan in an attempt to distance himself from the other members. Jeonghan slung an arm around Joshua, trying to comfort him in any way possible. “I’m fine,” Joshua repeated firmly.

The car ride to the dorms was silent, only the softness of snores and intakes of breath could be heard in the van. Most of the members were either sleeping or keeping to themselves after the long and exhausting Asia SEVENTEEN tour. Joshua felt immense guilt and blame for the breakup; he blamed himself, essentially, for abandoning you and for choosing his career over you.

Now, as he looked out of the rain splattered window, Joshua understood the suffocation you felt when he was gone. The guilt gripped at his heart, making it harder for him to breathe.

By the time they had all arrived back in the dorms it was already evening, the sky turning a beautiful swirl of pink cotton candy clouds and blue gray.

Pink represented his love for you, ever so light and present, fluffy wisps drifting into nothingness.

Gray represented his sadness, his anger for you. He could never bring himself to hate you though, Joshua knew that you must have had a reason.

So he waits. Waits for you to come back to him, to explain to him.

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