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gghostwriter · 2 months

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You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)

Warning: fluff! Just fluff!

A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!

Main masterlist

The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man

“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face.

Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”

Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.”

“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”

“Reid.”

“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.”

Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?”

“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction—perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.

“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?”

“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice.

Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”

“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?”

“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.”

Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.

“So what’s your play then?”

His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.”

“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?”

“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”

“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”

Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?

———

Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?

It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.

Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater.

“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.

You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”

“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”

Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.

“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.

He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?”

Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.

Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”

You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk.

When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.

“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation.

“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”

You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”

He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”

You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?”

“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed.

Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.

The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit

“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth.

Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”

“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.

“Have you ever asked her out?”

There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."

“That’s why you can’t get a date.”

One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory.

———

There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up.

A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who.

“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.

You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.”

“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”

That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.

“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”

Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”

You titled your head to the side. “Rose?”

“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”

“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”

He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”

You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. “Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”

He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them.

Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language.

The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst

“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.

“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.

“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?”

“What? No! No, of course not!”

“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow.

Silence. Oh.

Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”

“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”

“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”

“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”

“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”

She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”

He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.

“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”

He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend.

“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue.

He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course.

“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down.

“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”

She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”

“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”

“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”

“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”

“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.

“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”

He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.

———-

It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking?

He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.

He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time.

He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.

As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”

He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.

“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”

He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.

“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.

Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk.

“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement.

He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered.

You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”

He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”

And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius

With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement.

Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with.

He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.

Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.

———

You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance.

“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”

He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.

“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”

Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest.

“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”

He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.

“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.”

A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #gw fics

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sweetbans29 · 3 months

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Catch Me If You Can - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You were untouchable, until one summer day (based on THIS request)

Warnings: cuteness

Word Count: 4.5k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I may have done a little too much with the backstory...

You were born and raised in Iowa City. Grew up going to all the local farmers markets and participating in any and all town events. Your parents are both teachers at the University of Iowa, your mom is a business professor, and your dad is an English professor. A lot of your time was spent on campus which made you pretty known starting at a very young age.

It started when you were a little girl, your parents would bring you to lectures and you would sit in the corner and do whatever you could to keep yourself occupied. The students in your classes never minded and would often come and color with you or read with you when class was over and your parents stayed around to answer questions.

When you were in middle school you would go to campus every day after school to do homework. It would either be in your parent’s offices while they had class and/or hosted office hours or they would let you go to one of the coffee shops on campus, as long as you were with one of their trusted students. At this point, you were pretty well-known on campus by both students and faculty.

Things pretty much stayed the same when you got to high school. You never really had many friends at your own school but had so many the second you stepped foot on campus. You continued to spend most of your time there - most of it studying but sometimes going to campus events (if your parents were okay with that).

The University of Iowa had always been your fate. With both of your parents working there, it was a no-brainer that's where you would be attending school. It also helped that you knew the campus like the back of your hand and were already known. It made going to college less intimidating.

For your high school graduation - there was a group of students at Iowa that hosted a view party since they all couldn't go to your graduation. If you got more than 8 tickets, they would have been there in a heartbeat. They live-streamed it from one of the lecture halls. You didn't know at the time but it filled up with students and faculty all super proud of your accomplishment and ready to have you as an official student. After your graduation, your parents took you back to campus saying they had a surprise - it turned out to be a surprise grad party with a couple hundred people from campus. You have never felt more loved than you did that day.

When fall rolled around, you started your journey as a Hawkeye. Campus felt like home and had become home when your parents gave you the option to commute or live on campus. It was a no-brainer as it was your dream to live on campus and would try and convince your parents to let you stay overnight ever since you were in 4th grade.

Your first year goes as expected. You started to make solid friends. Everyone knew you around campus and if they didn't they for sure knew of you. You would do homework at the same on-campus coffee shops and began to venture out more as you began studying on lawns and in different places to switch up the scenery. Freshman year was everything you had hoped and more.

Going into your second year at Iowa was about the same as the first. Campus remained comfortable for you. You couldn't go anywhere without several people stopping to say hello - people thought it would be annoying but you genuinely loved talking to people. You were well-known and well-loved by pretty much everyone.

As active as you were on campus, one area you never really paid attention to was sports. Your parents never made them a priority thus you never made them one either. Another reason they kept you away from games was because of the reputation a lot of the players had around campus. Ever since you started hanging out around campus in high school - your parents made it known that you were off limits and would remain off limits. It became an unspoken word on campus.

Even with your parents, relationships were never a priority for you. Not to say it was something you didn't want because there were times that you really did long to have the same experiences as your peers. After high school though, relationships weren't even a thought. It was interesting because it wasn't like there weren't people interested, but more so there was no one that you found interesting. Seeing your parent's love, your bar was raised far higher than any college student could really commit to.

It surprises you how frequently you get asked out. It isn't weekly but you consistently have people coming up to ask you out. It unofficially became a game on campus - specifically among athletes. They would place bets on who could get you to say yes to going out with them but nobody ever availed.

You of course learned about the whole thing when one of the guys you were friends with let you know out of respect for you. He was one of the waterboys for the men's basketball team and overhead them taking bets on who could get you to say yes. John always kept an eye out for you - he was a year older than you and treated you as his little sister. He has 3 little sisters at home, as he was the oldest and the first to leave for college - watching you was a second nature to him especially since he was one of your parent's favorite students.

When John learned it was more than the basketball guys and more teams were jumping in to see who could court you, he made it a point to make sure you always felt comfortable on campus. Not that he ever doubted you, but doubted all the guys and girls trying to get in your pants.

You were sitting and waiting for John and some other friends to meet up with you when you were approached yet again.

The star of the school's water polo team approaches you while you are studying on the lawn.

"Hey," he says trying to get your attention. You finish typing out your sentence then look up at him.

"Hi," you say with a smile. "It's Erick, right?"

He flashes a smile when you know his name. "Ya, we are in the same stats class."

You nod.

"Hey, I was just wondering if you were free this Friday night? The team has a game and it would be cool it if you came. We could go grab ice cream or something after and hang out." He asks with the confidence of you knowing who he is.

You give a light smile.

"Erick, I am sure you are a nice guy," you say - knowing all too well that he was not. It was just last week that he took a cheerleader out then was caught making out with one of her teammates the next day. "But I'm just not interested."

"Good luck on your game though - should be a tough one," you say and he walks away.

John comes up catching the tail end of the encounter and gives you a look.

"Another one?" He asks as you get up from the grass.

"Yep, nothing new - he went with the 'come watch my game then we can hang out' bit. You would think they would all get the hint considering I haven't been to a single Iowa game." You say.

"They all want to be the first," John says. You laugh.

"Well jokes on them," you say as the two of you head to meet up with the rest of your group.

You get through the rest of the semester with only a few more people attempting to ask you out. You never mention it to your parents because the last thing you need is them making some big fuss about something you have a pretty good handle on.

That summer is one where things took a turn in a direction you would have never expected.

A majority of your summer was spent around town at your favorite coffee shops. They would be your favorite place to read. It was something you did every summer at the same coffee shops - so much so that they would have a reserved sign at the table you would always sit at.

It was a gloomy morning when the shop was extra busy. You had been settled in for a while now and were sucked into your book. You are used to the buzz of the coffee shop but are pulled out when you hear a loud sound.

You look up and see a frazzled girl, bending over and collecting the bag she just dropped. You set down your book and immediately help the girl. You gather some things and stand up, passing them to her.

"Thank you," she says, still flustered from how busy the coffee shop is.

"Of course," you say with a smile, hopefully easing her.

"I came here hoping to have a quiet morning not realizing how busy it was going to be. I heard this is the best place to come to work," she says.

"Well I agree that this is the best place to work - it typically isn't this busy. I think there is an event going on in town this week. If you are looking for a table, you are more than welcome to join me," you say as you sit back down.

"Thank you," she says and sits immediately. It is just after she sits when you see her relax. You introduce yourself, offering your hand to shake. She reaches out and shakes it. She knows who you are - everyone knew who you were but thought it would be better to just keep your meeting simple.

"I'm Caitlin," she says. You smile at her - also knowing who she is. She had quickly became one of the faces on campus - the 'basketball superstar'.

"It's nice to meet you," you say with a smile. "You are always welcome at my table."

She notices the 'Reserved' sign on it and laughs.

"Did they do that for you?" She asks.

"Ya," you say with a laugh. "I've been sitting here for years now."

The two of you spend the rest of the morning working independently. You locked into your book shortly after your conversation missing the stolen glances Cait would take of you.

Caitlin took you up on your offer every day for the next several weeks. She even went out and got books to read just to come and spend time with you. The two of you would chat when she first got there, then would settle in and being reading for a few hours until you both got hungry. What started as a place for Caitlin to sit turned into so much more. The two of you started getting lunch together and really getting to know one another.

It's in the final month of summer when Caitlin asks you on a proper date. You are unsure at first but remind yourself that she isn't a stranger. The two of you have genuinely gotten to know each other over the course of the summer and you trust her.

It is after that first date that you decide Caitlin is worth it but if you were to ask her when she knew you were it, she would have said that first morning in the coffee shop.

Heading back into the school year, there were subtle changes in your day-to-day. You would still be on campus to study in all of your favorite places but when it came to grabbing your mid-morning smoothie, Caitlin would be waiting outside your first class of the day - smoothie in hand, waiting to walk you to your next class. Caitlin made it a point to be a part of your morning, just like you did in the summer.

It slowly became something Caitlin's team noticed - the first one being Gabby who passed by Caitlin holding two smoothies outside of one of the lecture halls.

"Cait - what are you doing here? Isn't your next class on the other side of campus?" Gabby asks when she sees her teammate.

"Ya, just catching up with a friend," Caitlin says, hoping Gabby will go before you come out. One of the things Caitlin had learned while getting to know you was the bitter taste athletes gave you. Caitlin was slowly changing that but didn't want to give you any reason to backtrack. She also hadn't told the team that she had started seeing you over the summer and would like to keep it that way for as long as she can. Not to hide you, but she valued having you all to herself. And she knew that the second her team found out - she would lose you to them. You were too incredible.

Gabby nods but her suspicion remains.

"Whatever you say Cait," she says and continues to walk. "I'll see you at practice."

Gabby turns a corner but stays in the vicinity - wanting to see the mystery person Caitlin is waiting for.

You walk out of class and see Cait standing against a wall with two smoothies in her hands. You make your way over to her and she meets you halfway.

"Why hello there," you say with a smile. She passes you one of the smoothies.

"Your favorite," she says and you thank her.

The two of you proceed to walk to your next class, missing a hiding gabby who sees Caitlin is walking with you. Gabby can't wait to take the news back to the team. Everyone knows you are not a fan of Iowa sports but here you are walking about with one of the biggest stars on campus. She also doesn't believe that Caitlin is one to wait outside of someone's class with a drink in hand only to walk them in the opposite direction of where she is going.

Later that day Caitlin arrived at practice to find her team bombarding her with questions.

"Woah, woah, woah - what's going on?" She asks overwhelmed.

"Gabby told us who you were spotted with and we think that is the cutest thing ever," Jada says - excited for her teammate.

Caitlin feels her cheeks heat up.

"How did you swing talking to her?" Another teammate asks. "She practically hates every sports team on campus."

"She doesn't hate us - well you know the shit that goes around with teams asking her out and making bets and stuff. It's left a bad taste in her mouth. It's not like they were discrete about it anyways." Caitlin says backing you up.

"Ya but still, I mean what makes you different - Cait you are the biggest name on campus right now and it is only junior year," Sydney says.

Caitlin shrugs, opting to leave how the two of you spent the summer out of the conversation.

"Is it even like that?" Kate asks. "I mean she could just be a friend."

"A friend that Caitlin goes out of her way to get a smoothie for then walk to class?" Gabby scoffs. "No ya, sure sounds like a friend to me."

The team keeps making fun of Caitlin to which she never confirms or denies any of their allegations. The two of you had been on several dates but never really solidified what you were to each other so Caitlin didn't feel like it was proper to bring it up when the two of you really didn't even know what you are yet.

"There is no way Caitlin could pull her - I mean it's CC, can you imagine her dating at all? Let alone the campus's princess." One of the girls says in a joking manner. Caitlin knows her team means well but it sort of rubs her the wrong way when they think she isn't worth your time.

Caitlin speaks before thinking.

"What if I get her to come to a game - would you believe it then?" Caitlin asks and immediately regrets it.

"No way in hell could you get her to come to a game," Jada says. "I've heard she's never gone to a sporting event nor will go near one with a ten-foot pole."

"Ya, but if she comes, then you'll all shut up about this?" Caitlin asks hoping it will be enough to just get you to a game.

"Get her there in your jersey and we will know it's real," Gabby says.

Caitlin grumbles but agrees.

After practice, Caitlin messages you and asks to meet up. You tell her to come over and that you will be making chocolate chip cookies - you know they are her favorite. Her mom also happened to send you home with her famous recipe after Caitlin brought you home once during the summer. It was before she asked you on a date - it was actually quite spontaneous.

"Would you be up for joining me on a little trip home? I told my brothers I would be there for an event of theirs. It won't be long but I don't want to make the drive alone." Caitlin asks you at the end of one of your mornings.

"I would love to," you say and she just casually mentions she is heading there now. When you still agree to join her - she is ecstatic but hides it well.

The two of you head to her home, talking the whole way there. When you get there Caitlin goes to help her brothers and you stay with her mom, she is baking for the event. You help her make her chocolate chip cookies and tell her about yourself. She then tells you all the stories of when Caitlin was little. You couldn't help but grow fonder of the girl after hearing about her childhood.

When the two are heading out, Anne pulls you into a hug and asks you to watch over her baby girl. You smile and nod. She then proceeds to stick something in your pocket - her chocolate chip cookie recipe.

Caitlin gets to your apartment and instantly recognizes the smell of her favorite cookies. You pull them out right after she gets there.

"Are these," she begins and picks one of them up right away.

"Caitlin! You are going to burn yourself!" You swat at her hand but she is too fast for you. She takes a bite of the cookie, blowing out the hot air and trying not to burn her tongue. Once she is able to enjoy it, her eyes close and she lets out a moan.

"You like them?" You ask, already seeing her answer. She finishes the cookie before speaking.

"Just like home. How did you get these?" She asks finally opening her eyes and going for another.

"From the one and only, Mrs. Clark - told me to take care of you," you say with a smile. "And I know that the only real way to care for you is through cookies."

Caitlin looks at you in awe and her mind begins going a mile a minute. Her mom doesn't give her recipe out to anyone - she doesn't know what you did in the kitchen with her that one day but seeing as you have her full approval, Caitlin begins to seriously consider what life would be like with you.

You can see the gears turning in her head.

"Talk to me," you say to her with a little laugh. "I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears. What's going on?"

Caitlin wants to tell you how much it means to her that you made her cookies, her mom's cookies. She wants to tell you how she misses how it was just you and her like it was during the summer and wishes the two of you could go back to that. She wants to tell you how she has started talking to your parents about you and how they have unofficially given her the okay to take you on a date (she didn't tell them how she had already taken you out but that is beside the point).

"How would you feel about coming to my game this Friday?" She asks, settling on getting this out of the way first.

You stand there putting more cookies on the cookie sheet, thinking over her question.

"I know you don't go to games and how much you aren't a fan of Iowa sports, especially with all the athlete's track records with you," she is cut off by you.

"Ya but I am a fan of you," you say which earns a little chuckle. Her heart skips a beat but she continues.

"But we are playing one of our biggest rivals and I think it would be neat to have you there," she says debating on adding the part about her team. She thinks about all you have been through and decides it is better to be honest upfront.

"And my team doesn't think I can get you there," Caitlin says nervously.

You look up at her amused, kind of shocked she would think you would be open to it. But you ponder it.

"It's not a bet - you know I am not like those other guys and girls. You know that right?" She asks.

You just look at her.

"Please tell me you know I am not like them," she says beginning to panic.

"Yes, CC, I know you are not like them."

"One of them saw me waiting outside of one of your classes and started saying that you're out of my league and it irked me." She says.

"And you thought it would be a good idea to tell them that I would go to your game and what? Cheer you on? Wear your jersey?" You press her.

"Well, ya - kind of," she says shyly.

You don't know why but this whole thing should make you uneasy but it doesn't. Not one person has actually told you to your face that their team was betting on you. Caitlin sought out talking to you about it - but in her words, it wasn't a bet.

"Okay." You say and her head shoots to look at you.

"Okay?" She asks.

"Okay."

Friday comes around and you look at yourself in the mirror. You are wearing Caitlin's jersey with some black leggings. You are second-guessing your decision and want to back out but know that's not an option.

You head to the game with your friend John. Caitlin got you two tickets which you instantly asked John to join you for.

The game is intense - watching Cait on the court was mesmerizing to you. She is electric on the court and you wish you had started watching her sooner. It's easy to see why so many people love her.

The game ends and Iowa takes the win by 4.

You turn to John.

"Should I go down to her? I don't know if I should wait until she is done or what to do," you say nervous.

"Go to her - show her how proud you are of her. Be the excited girlfriend," John says with a smile.

"She's not my girlfriend," You mumble.

"Just go," he says and pushes you towards the court.

You walk down to the now-packed court looking for Cait.

When you see her, you begin making your way to her. When her eyes find yours, she lights up. When you get to her you jump into her arms and she spins you around.

"You were incredible," you whisper in her ear.

"Thank you," she says with the biggest smile.

She puts you down and the two of you just look at one another. She finally speaks.

"I like you in my jersey," she says and you blush.

"Please stop," you say and hide your face.

"You're cute," she keeps teasing you.

"Okay okay, I'm going to go now," you say and begin to walk away.

"Wait no," she says and grabs your arm. "I'll be good. I promise."

You stop walking away and turn back to her.

"Come meet my team?" She asks and you nod.

You make your way to some of her teammates as Caitlin introduces you to them. You shake all of their hands then stick to Caitlin's side.

They all try to hide how shocked they are but don't do a real great job with it.

"You all look surprised I am here," you say with a laugh.

"We are - you are sort of known for avoiding sporting events like the plague," Kate says with genuine intent.

"Well, I decided to make an exception for a special little someone," you say and pinch Caitlin's side causing her to blush. All of her teammates take note and poke fun at her.

"Why Caitlin?" Sydney asks boldly and Kate hits her. "What? I am genuinely curious - Caitlin isn't the easiest person to be around."

You laugh and smile up at Caitlin. Then shrug.

"She puts up with me," you say.

"Ya but you're the campus's sweetheart," Sydney says.

"Don't let her fool you," Caitlin jokes and you hit her arm. She puts her hands up in surrender.

"Oh you two are cute," Kate says.

"I can see now why CC was playing extra hard today," Jada says coming over.

"Okay, you are all embarrassing me," Caitlin says and excuses the two of you. The team wants to get to know you more and protests but you follow Caitlin. She leads you to the tunnel where it is not so crowded.

"They are all sweet," you say.

"If by sweet you mean embarrassing then ya, they are great," she says laughing and rubbing her forehead.

You turn to face her.

"What is your intention with me, Clark." You say boldly, catching her a little off guard.

"Well, I really enjoy spending time with you - and I like you, but everyone likes you so that is really a given," she says stringing along more little comments.

The once confident All-American, now a blabbering mess.

"Caitlin Clark," you say pulling her out of her jumble of words. "Ask me to be your girlfriend."

She stands there looking at you, takes a deep breath, and takes your hands.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" She asks, her eyes locked on yours.

Without blinking, you respond.

"No."

"What? You literally just told me to ask you," she says with protest.

You laugh and she catches on to you.

"You are unbelievable," she says.

"I may be but I'm your girlfriend now, so you are just going to have to deal with me," you say.

"Well you just said no, so it looks like I am still on the market," Caitlin says now teasing you.

"Mmhmm, sure you are," you say wrapping your arms around her neck as her arms wrap around your waist. She laughs and looks into your eyes.

"I'm going to kiss you now," you say.

She waits and you stop leaning in - she takes you in.

"Okay," she says and your lips meet hers for the first time. The first time but certainly not the last.

AN: This may be one of my favorites...ever. But my opinion doesn't matter, let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for all the love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark concepts #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist #iowa hawkeyes

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nerdy-novelist017 · 3 months

Text

SFW Alphabet (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

First time making one of these and this was so much fun! I took a bit of creative liberty in order to dive into Benny's past a bit so I hope it doesn't feel OOC. Please let me know if you love it! This is paired with my Benny x Bunny series! 🐰

This is so Work Song by Hozier coded and I will NOT be apologizing for it ;)

A= Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Benny shows affection through acts of service. He wants to take care of you so he's always doing things to help you out. Your car is making a rattling noise? He'll take a look at it. Your feet are sore from walking around in your heels all day? He'll carry you on his back the rest of the way. You try to carry something heavy? Not on his watch. A customer at work was rude to you? Consider it handled. He has your back in everything.

B= Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start)

You are his absolute best friend. Benny doesn't have many friends and he doesn't make them easily. When Benny loves, he loves fiercely. His friends are his family and he'd kill for them.

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Benny ALWAYS has a hand on you. Whether it's just a hand on your thigh if you're sitting beside him or an arm slung around your shoulders or his hands wrapped around your waist if you're standing in front of him, he's always touching you somehow. There's a few reasons he does this: he likes having you nearby in case some trouble starts and he can protect you. He wants to show everyone nearby that you are his and only his. But most importantly, he likes having you there to ground him. You're his anchor when he feels himself losing control of his anger.

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Benny is not much help when it comes to cooking and cleaning. In fact, he does more harm than good when the stove is involved. You almost always end up having to shoo him away, telling him to go mow the lawn or fix the leaky pipe in the bathroom. Sometimes though, he likes to lean against the fridge and keep you company while you bake, totally enamored by how beautiful you are when you concentrate on things you love doing.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

You are Benny's whole world, but that doesn't mean he is immune to doubts. Not about you, never about you. They're about himself. He gets in his own head and those poisonous thoughts of feeling inferior and ignominious run wild. Sometimes he wonders why you're even with him. He's not good enough for you, how could he be? You're so perfect and sweet and pure and he's . . . so corrupted, so rough.

You're always so quick to correct him when he voices these thoughts, telling him that you love him and that means all of him, including vices, bad habits and flaws.

F= Fiance (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Are we kidding? Benny knew he wanted to marry you after only spending a few hours in your presence. He's so whipped, so drunk on love that he goes out and buys a ring the very next day.

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Looking at someone like Benny with his tattoos and leather jacket and loud motorcycle, most people wouldn't assume he could be gentle. Benny didn't even know he could love someone to the point of changing for them until he met you. He thought he was a lost cause, a destitute brawler who nobody could love - hell, his own family didn't even love him.

But you did somehow, and Benny doesn't know if he should laugh or cry at that. He'd never, never expected to be blessed with someone as kind and supportive as you in his life and for that, he'd do anything for. He'd touch you gently, hands exploring your curves at night. He'd whisper softly into your ear as you nodded off into dreamland beside him. And he knew that's what you needed, so he'd provide it in any aspect he could, private or public. He didn't care if the guys teased him about it either.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

Any excuse to touch you is how he works! He loves feeling your slight figure tucked so completely against his own. You're the perfect height for him to rest his chin on the top of your head, your face pressed against his broad chest, his hands locking together around your waist. It's like you were a lock and he was the key - molded together perfectly.

I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

The L-word is very foreign to Benny. He didn't hear it much when he was growing up and he's said it to others even less. In fact, he's never told a girl that he loved them, so for him to be that vulnerable with you is a huge deal.

Those life-changing three words would probably just come out of him before he even realized it himself. It would be after he had a bad day, problems with the club and new members becoming more antagonizing. He'd park his bike out front, anger disappearing the moment he catches sight of you in the front yard, on your hands and knees, an assortment of small unplanted plants surrounding you.

He cuts the engine and approaches you, warmth spreading in his chest at the oversized sunhat you wear. You glance up at him and smile.

"Remember that butterfly I was telling you about yesterday?" you ask when he stands over you. "Well, I was reading up on them and I guess they really love these flowers. So I'm planting them for him. I hope he comes back and appreciates it."

And how can Benny's heart not melt at that? You were so damn cute and the way you viewed the world was unlike anything he'd ever known.

"I love you," he whispered, heart suddenly pounding at the recognition.

Your mouth falls open and you sit up a little straighter before smiling broadly at him. "Oh."

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)

Oh boy, Benny is a force to reckon with when he gets jealous. It doesn't happen often, surprising to say, but when it does . . . it's bad. He deals with his jealousy with his fists, much like how he deals with all other negative emotions. He's having a bad day already and someone at the bar tries grabbing your ass? Oh goodbye. He's dragging that man out the backdoor and going to teach him a lesson about touching what's his.

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses with Benny are so intense. He kisses you like it's the last time he'll ever see you. And for all he knows, it could be. He lives a dangerous life and anything could happen to him. So he kisses you like he needs you to breathe. And he also loves to see your lips all swollen afterwards.

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

Benny came from a rough home and his childhood was very unpleasant, so the last thing on his mind is children. But that can be changed, he's very easily influenced by you. All you have to do is give him puppy eyes and the soft pouty-lip look and he'd consider just about anything.

M= Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

It's rare that Benny is still there when you wake up in the morning. He has a lot of trouble sleeping and usually ends up getting up early, leaving you to sleep as long as you can. You'll usually find him in the kitchen, already made a pot of coffee for you to wake up to.

But on those mornings when he does sleep in and you wake up to find his warm body tangled with yours? Those are the best. That's when you get that sweet side of Benny that nobody else is privy to. He'll run his thumb over your cheek, the early morning sunlight casting a beautiful glow over his face as his blue eyes roam over your face. He'll lean in, slowly peppering you with the softest kisses, one for your nose, one for your forehead, one for each of you cheeks, and the last one reserved for you lips.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights spent with Benny Cross are anything but ordinary. That's one of the things you love most about him, the spontaneity. You could be getting ready for bed and he'd come to you asking if you want to take a ride with him. Of course you say yes because every ride with him is an adventure. And you might just be driving around the city, under the streetlights or he might take you out into the country to look at the stars. Either way, he wants to make the most of it so he will always bring an extra jacket for you to stay out as long as possible.

O= Open (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or do they reveal little things slowly?)

Being vulnerable is very difficult for Benny. He wants to, believe him, but every negative memory he has beats down on him daily, so it will take a long time before he feels comfortable letting down his guard and breaking the toxic cycle that his parents burned into him. Your smile helps, your kind eyes, your petite hands squeezing his encouragingly.

P= Patience (How easily are they angered?)

Remember how he fights at the drop of a hat and his anger is easily triggered? Well, that doesn't apply to you. No, you rarely ever test his patience. The very few times you do, it's most likely because you're doing something that he thinks is too dangerous and you argue back because you don't like when he acts controlling. One thing leads to another and the more calm he remains, the more riled up you become so you end up being petty or bratty. Then, his patience is strained and he'll usually put his foot down and flat out refuse to cooperate with you anymore.

That usually leads to him receiving the silent treatment for a few hours, but you both usually make up before bed.

Q= Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail or forget the minor things?)

Benny has a lock-trap memory when it comes to something he actually cares about. In school, he struggled to do well on tests about subjects he found boring like math and English. But history and science, he excelled in.

If knowing you was a subject in school, he'd be valedictorian. He remembers everything you tell him, bringing it up in moments that shock you. He may not always seem like he's listening, but he is. He knows your schedule, your work drama, your favorite sweater. He makes mental notes of the way you like your coffee, what song gets you to dance in the kitchen while you cook, and what side of the sink you leave your stuff on. He loves the small details like how your laugh sounds different when it's just you and him and the way your face lights up when you see your favorite flowers. It's all very important to him.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment of your relationship?)

A day he thinks about a lot - especially when he's not in a good mood - is when you first moved in together and you wanted to bake him something to christen the kitchen. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed casually as you put on your apron and gathered the ingredients. You shot him a cheeky grin as you went to the record player, picking out an album that made your hips sway with the rhythm. He was perfectly content to stand there admiring, but you always had to involve him in some way or another so you tugged his arms gently, pulling him to the center of the kitchen and the two of you danced slowly, his hands pressed against the small of your back and yours wrapped around the back of his neck, foreheads touching.

He thinks about that night often, feeling so grateful that you chose him to spend the rest of your life with.

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

As you already know, Benny would die to protect you just as easily as he'd kill for you. You'd never need to worry about anything happening while he's there. He doesn't get intimidated by much and is always ready to throw a fist if someone threatened you. He's the definition of scary boyfriend privileges.

T= Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He thinks it's important for him to put a lot of consideration for you during your every day life, not just special occasions. You're always going out of your way to do something kind for others (even strangers) and he wants you to know that you deserve the same level of effort you provide.

He's not so great at remembering the dates and anniversaries, he's often times so busy that he doesn't know what day it is anyway so don't feel bad. But the dates he takes you on? Those are magical. He finds places that remind him of you and he points out details he thinks you'd like.

U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Benny and bad habits? That pairs like milk and cookies. Smoking, boarder line alcohol abuse, not getting enough sleep, fighting . . . the list goes on. But Johnny tells you that he sees a huge improvement since Benny's gotten together with you and you can't help but blush at that.

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He isn't one to care much what other people think of him. He barely holds himself in high regards, why should it bother him if someone else does? He's used to getting the occasional glare shot at him by the pansies standing on their lawns as he rolls through the neighborhood on his Harley.

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Benny used to be independent, even a little detached. But that all changed when he met you. You changed everything for him. He no longer had to go through life alone because you were there with your sweet smile and comforting words. You became the most important thing in his life. His world revolves around you.

X= Xtra )A random headcanon for them)

Benny came home one day to find you and a couple of your friends making jewelry. Friendship bracelets, you had informed him with a smile on your face. He just nodded, kissed the top of your head and continued on his way out the back door to hide in the garage.

The next day you had presented him with a tiny box all wrapped up in a pink bow, a brilliant smile to go with it. You told him it was special and just for him. He opened it carefully and his heart melted at the object inside. It was a bracelet, made with various shades of pink and white rope, a small B charm woven into the center, a bunny next to it. It was . . . one of the ugliest things he's ever seen, but he adored you so he told you he loved it. You practically bounced up and down with excitement as you helped him put it on.

The absolute razzing he took from the boys when he showed up with his bright pink friendship bracelet showing proudly on his wrist was worth it. He'd never take it off.

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

There isn't much that you could do that Benny wouldn't like. Except when you do things that puts you in harms way like running to the store late at night without him or leaving the door unlocked when you're home alone. He sees it as unnecessary risk and he's tried talking to you many times about it.

Z= Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?

Benny has trouble sleeping, always has. Most of the time, you're asleep before he gets home despite your best efforts at trying to stay awake to greet him. He often finds you asleep on the couch, book forgotten in your lap. He'll carry you to bed, and crawl into it behind you. You snuggle up against him, muttering something incoherent and sighing contently before falling back to sleep and Benny felt a tenderness in his chest as he pulled you closer, wrapping the blankets over both of you.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @pomtherine @tranquility @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumleaves1991-blog @charmingballoon @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @jaiuneamesolitaiire @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @cynic-spirit @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @pomtherine @lovenewfandoms . @abaker74 @youngestxhearts

#soft benny has me in a chokehold currently #i love him so much #the bikeriders #benny cross #austin butler #benny x bunny #austin butler x reader #benny cross x reader #benny x reader #fluff #austin butler fandom #austin bulter x you #benny the bikeriders #benny cross x you #sfw alphabet #headcanon

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josiewinters1999 · 26 days

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Don't Leave Me

Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Summary: Set after the events of X-men (00) Logan plans to leave the school, feeling he is unworthy of staying. Yet something... someone pulls him back...

Words: ~2.4k

Contains: fluff, angst, insecurity, Logan being sad (per usual), smoking, a hopeful ending

A/N: I see we are simping for Wolverine again... Y'all are lucky bc I been about this life. I've had this one loaded in the chamber (google drive) for many a year now... enjoy my friends and stay thirsty

What am I even doing here?

That question echoed in Logan’s head as he stared out across the lawn, elbows resting lazily on the stone balcony and cigar in hand. The strong smelling smoke encircled his head in a cloud, making his vision hazy. Blinded by his own vices, he hangs his head.

He didn’t belong here, that much he was convinced of. This place was too good for him, too innocent, too pure, too… right. It was full of wonderful things that people like Logan were not destined to have.

Stubbing out his cigar on the concrete, he stands, tugging his leather jacket out of its disheveled state and back into place. With a sigh, he looks out at the grass, glowing green and full of life. A group of students catch his eye, walking softly together, laughing with the giddy happiness only children could have.

Logan wasn’t even sure why he had stayed so long to begin with. He’d been here for over three months now, pretending he belonged, pretending that he had any right to be there. The time for make believe was over now, though, and he needed to face facts that this mutant sanctuary was not meant for him.

As he tries to walk away from the balcony, something in the back of his head stops him. Logan finds himself unable to move, a heavy weight settling in his heart. He was going to miss this place, but why? What did this place have over him, holding him hostage like it did?

Heavy footfalls slowly fade in, the sound becoming louder and louder in Logan’s ears. Turning his head slightly to the entrance way behind him, he listens intently. Someone was coming, the sound of their feet on the wood hallways echoing loudly.

It could only be one person. Of course it was her, who else would come to him in his time of need to taunt him of what he couldn’t have?

Her head peaked around the corner, peering out onto the balcony. At the sight of his rigid, leather clad, back, a slight sigh of relief escapes her. “Logan,” she flatly states, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Funny she should say that, Logan thought. He was avoiding her everywhere today. The last thing he wanted to see before he left was a look of disappointment on her sweet face.

Looking back to her, he acts surprised by her presence, as if he didn’t just hear her coming this way, “Hey,” he sighs, turning back out to the lawn in front of him.

Her boots tap against the stone as she approaches him. Making her place next to him, her scent wafts through the air, replacing the harsh cigar smoke in Logan’s lungs. She smelled so fresh, so sweet, so warm. It was too much.

She swallows, working up the courage to say what she had come all this way to say. Logan could feel her eyes on him and could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. “I…” she starts, trailing off. She stops, rethinking her words and trying again, “Someone told me that you were leaving.”

This was the last conversation Logan had planned on having today. If there was one person, one person in this whole world, who could convince him to stay, it was her. It was part of the reason he was forcing himself to leave. Logan knew what was happening, what would happen if he wasn’t careful. It was hitting him like a ton of bricks and it was just too much.

He sighs, nodding slightly, never once looking in her direction “Yeah,” he mutters, voice barely audible over the breeze in the trees beyond. She only shakes her head, “I… I don’t understand.” Of course she didn’t understand, he barely did himself. It was stupid of him to think that this was the right decision yet he couldn’t keep himself from going through with it.

Raising his head, he glances to her out of the corner of his eye. Her face was contorted in the exact way he had imagined. Hurt, confusion, fear, it was all there, plain as day, etched into her blond brows.

Pursing his lips for a moment, Logan huffs, “Sorry. I just… it’s time for me to get going on.” Intensifying her confused expression, she shakes her head. “‘Going?’” she repeats, “Going where?”

It was a valid question, one he couldn’t answer for her. He really had no idea where he was going after his departure from the school. All he knew was that he couldn’t stay here, her presence choked him in a way he couldn’t take anymore.

She watches him for a long while, waiting for the answer to her question that would never come. Instead, Logan just turns more, meeting her gaze full on. Hazel eyes meet hers, the latter sparkling like the stars.

A lump forms in Logan’s throat, his chest clenching familiarly. Just being this close to her, it was becoming hard to breathe, hard to stand, hard to think. The only thing he could keep his focus on was her lips and the thought of what they might feel like.

Her eyes scan his face, desperately trying to read him. It wasn’t something she was good at just yet, but she was getting better each day, Logan knew, and it scared him to death. If she saw him, really saw him, he’d fall completely victim to her, he’d have no choice.

Increasingly becoming frustrated with her lack of answers, she huffs, “Why are you doing this?”

His hand tingled as he felt the urge to reach out and touch her. If only he could feel her skin on his hand one more time before he left, maybe he’d come to his senses and stay. Clenching his fist at his side, he grumbles, “I don’t belong here, sweetheart. You and I both know that.”

As if she had been reading his mind, her fingers roughly grip his forearm, almost as if to pull him back to reality. “Yes you do,” she barks, “You belong here… with us.”

Us. It was a word that Logan hasn’t been able to say in a very very long time. He was always alone, always cold, always empty. Right now, ‘us’ sounded like a hopeful promise, especially coming from her soft lips.

Looking at her, watching her as she held on a little too tight to his sleeve, it all started to fall into place. She was here, she was warm, and she was so full of life. Everything about her felt like ‘us,’ even down to her god awful ugly sweater that unraveled more and more each time she wore it.

Flexing his jaw, Logan grabs her wrist with his other hand. The cuff of her shirt rode up just enough to let his fingertips grace the skin of her pulse point. The heat radiated off her, flowing into him and directly into his chest. Taking a deep breath, he pulls his composure back, “No, I don’t.” The hostility in his words changes the look on her face. It softens, along with the grip on his arm.

Retracting her hand from him, she blinks, unsure of what she was going to say. Logan only held onto her tighter, wanting to savor every last feeling of her, thinking it might be his last chance.

She takes a few breaths, trying to force words to come out but not being able to. Finally, she stutters, unsure of herself as she speaks, “I… I thought you liked it here… I thought… you liked me. Aren’t we friends, Logan?”

Not able to keep his face scrunched up in fake anger any longer, Logan’s eyes widen. It was getting harder and harder to hold what he was feeling back. He could feel his confession bubbling in his trachea, preventing air from coming into his lungs.

If things were different, if life was different, if he wasn’t… him, he would tell her everything she so desperately wanted to know. He’d tell her he didn’t want to leave, that he wanted to stay- with her- in this dusty mansion for as long as she wanted. He’d tell her that she was the first person in over a lifetime that has given him any sense of belonging and hope in his sad, pathetic, freakish, life.

Instead, he nods, his body moving on its own accord. “Yeah,” he answers, looking down into her sorrowful eyes, “we’re friends.”

Biting her lip, she grabs the back of his palm with her free hand. As he grips onto her still, she encapsulates his fist in her warmth. Her touch was so soft, so light, Logan nearly gasped. He looks down to see her holding his hand, his fingers still wrapped roughly around her. Looking back up to her, he watches her as she begs, “Then stay, Logan.”

Opening his mouth, Logan finds it hard to give her another excuse. There really wasn’t one, other than his own fear of what she was unknowingly doing to him the longer he stayed. “I… I can’t…”

She grips him tighter, her force matching the one on her wrist. “Yes, you can,” she bargains, “I know that this place can be frustrating sometimes, and things can get a little crazy, but,” she pauses, swallowing her emotion down, “we take care of each other, and… if you let us… we’ll- I’ll… take care of you.”

Logan’s chest tightens more than ever before. It felt like the world had fallen away, that time had stopped, that the only person that mattered, the only person that ever mattered, was her. The sparkle in her eyes surely was being mirrored in his as she gazed hopefully into him. Maybe if he stayed… maybe if he stayed with her longer… he could keep some of that sparkle.

Biting her lip again, she breathes in sharply, “Please, Logan… don’t leave me.”

Don’t leave me.

It was the one thing he couldn’t do, no matter how much he tried. Even when he didn’t see her for days, she was still there, in the back of his mind, unyielding in her presence.

Finally, the fingers on her wrist loosen, eventually falling away. Her hands follow suit, going back to rest gently at her sides. With a strong, heavy hand, Logan cups her face, the act making her both jump and melt at the same time.

His eyes dart to her lips, plump from her rough, nervous, biting, nearly quivering from the emotion coursing through her. Logan quickly wonders if now would be the time to do what he’d been thinking, dreaming, about for so long now.

Logan tilts his head, his eyes becoming heavy as he leans in. His head starts to spin, the blood in his ears pounding louder than the sound of a jet plane. The space between them starts to lessen as he inches closer. He gets so close he feels her breath on his upper lip.

Before he is able to touch his lips to hers, the feeling of her so close to him ends. He opens his eyes, seeing her leaned back comically far, an amused, yet very confused, look plastered on her face. “Logan,” she chuckles nervously, “what are you doing?”

He stares at her for a moment, his cheeks a dark, hot, red, and eyes blinking rapidly. Logan follows her lead and leans back too, returning to his original position. Clearing his throat, he lets go of her, “Sorry, I just… I don’t really know what I was doing.”

It was the truth, he had no idea what he was doing. He wanted to kiss her so, so, badly, it was truly his only wish at this point. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was likely due to the fact that something deep inside him told him if he even got the slightest taste of those soft lips, it’d be his complete undoing.

The woman watches him for a moment, trying to scan his face for any sort of emotion she could read. Her eyes squint as she concentrates, something Logan found so destructively cute.

With the softest of smiles pulling at the corner of his lips, he glances out back at the lawn. It shined so brightly, the sun illuminating it, making it look like the land itself was glowing with light and happiness. She wasn’t wrong when she said this place could be frustrating, but perhaps… if he had a hand to hold, he could navigate it just fine.

Logan turns back to her, her eyes expectant for his next sentence. Her gaze may have been dark, but she was so full of brightness, Logan felt like maybe his future here, with her, might be something to look forward to.

He sighs, reaching out to grab her forearm gently. The scratchy material of her sweater felt like home underneath his fingertips. “You know what...” he starts, grinning as her eyes widen, anticipating the end of his thought, “I think you’re right. I do belong here.”

She nearly gasped, tensing under his touch and sending a flutter into his heart. “You’re not going to leave then?” she asks, a little too eagerly. Logan only shakes his head, unable to stop the grin on his face, “Nope. I think I’ll give this place one more shot… As long as you stick around too.”

The woman chuckles at his joke, nodding with great enthusiasm. “Of course, Logan. I’ll always be here for you. It’s what friends do.” Her smile grows so wide, her eyes nearly disappear in her joy. Logan chokes back a wanting sigh, the urge to kiss her bubbling back up inside him.

With no warning, a pair of arms wrap themselves around Logan, her hair tickling the underside of his jaw as she wraps herself around him. The warmth from her being flowed through the fabric from her sweater and into Logan’s heart.

Nearly fainting from the shock, Logan finds it hard to breathe with her pressed against him so tightly, yet, it all felt so right. Hesitantly, Logan finds himself returning her embrace, holding her against him, his head leaning itself against hers.

She sucks in a sharp breath before muttering, “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d left, Logan. I would have missed you so much.”

Swallowing hard, Logan chuckles, “I would have missed you too, darlin’. You have no idea…”

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine #logan howlett #hugh jackman #james logan howlett #james howlett

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thelovelyruin · 10 months

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𝖘𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖊.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : yandere choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : choso fell in love with you freshman year and it was finally time to make you his.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, love, manipulation, murder (not you!)

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 7.1K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from saccharine by jazmin bean.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! this was a request i’ve been working on for a while lol; i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Everything you do, I'm obsessed with you.

“Exciting, isn’t it?”

“Huh? I mean, yeah it’s cool.”

“Are you rushing too? I really wanna go Kappa!”

“That’s, uh, aren’t they kinda…”

“What, cunts? Yeah, I’d fit in nicely.”

When Choso first met you during rush week a couple years ago, you were an aspiring freshman looking for a sorority to pledge to, and he was a normal guy. Sorta. You’d spoken to him once and he became absolutely in love with you. Not like he hadn’t been with other girls in the past, a few relationships here or there. But you were different. Not like any other girl he’d seen. You hadn’t shared too much with him that day, but he was determined to figure out, well, everything about you.

I don't mean to scare, but you're just so cute.

It started with your name, which he’d simply just asked someone in your class. But then, Choso needed to know more, when was your birthday, were your zodiac signs compatible? He’d gotten that information from stealing your campus ID out of your purse while you two were in class together. Choso was paying really good attention to other things too though. He’d paid attention to your screen while he sat behind you, online shopping when you were supposed to be paying attention to the lecture. That’s how he found out what size you were and the brands you liked, but other things got a little trickier. He noticed the way you did your makeup, it was always so pretty, but it’s not like he knew what any of it was, so he’d slowly started stealing things out of your makeup bag. It was harder to get your perfume, though, until you reapplied it on the campus lawn one day. Pink sugar, huh? Sweet just like you. Choso wanted to be even better, he’d send you flowers with no receipt of who sent them, an array until he found your favorites. He’d pay for your food when you went out to eat, then leave to remain anonymous. He just loved seeing that smile on your face whenever he surprised you with something, always grateful, looking around to see if you could catch your secret admirer, but blushing when you realized you wouldn’t. God, you were perfect.

Lucky for you, you had actually gotten into Kappa. You walked around on this high horse though, one of those kiss-my-ass kind of attitudes. Not like anyone was gonna check you for it, well, ‘cause you were hot. Always well dressed, always groomed, always punctual. There was nothing anyone could really say about you other than you being a bitch, at least never to your face. Little did you know, Choso was your bitch. If you ever even glanced at him, he’d almost faint, and as the sophomore and junior years came and you’d gotten classes with him, he’d go back to his dorm and fuck his fist at the thought of you every day. But now, it was Senior year, and he was running out of time to make you his.

Every move you make, you're fucking sweeter than a cake.

Choso originally planned to just ask you directly, but he had to make sure it was gonna be perfect. He couldn’t leave room for error in the possibility that you weren’t interested at all. So, he’d gotten as close as possible to you. It wasn’t stalking, it was just studying an interest. He was pretty good at photography, so he got hired as a photographer for school events, such as parties or games. He’d walk around and take pictures of everyone like usual to not raise suspicion, but whenever he could, he’d snap as many pictures as he could of you, slipping them into his pocket. When there was too much going on at the party downstairs, he’d sneak upstairs to find which room was yours, for research purposes of course.

Well, that research went directly to Choso knowing which window to take pictures outside of. You were so oblivious, often leaving your curtains wide open as you just got out of the shower, dressed in nothing but a towel. Now, Choso never got a snapshot of you naked or anything like that, but the hopes of the day he could got him pretty damn hard. He’d take pictures of you walking around campus, doing fundraisers with your sorority sisters, running for the pageants that you always won, with the exception of Miss Junior, who you exposed for cheating on her boyfriend so she’d be out of the running. So, you’d won that too. You were practically perfect, Choso felt you were made for him, there was a true possibility he could nurture and care for you, allow you to let your guard down a bit and let him someone in. He imagined himself taking you out to all your favorite restaurants, he had all of them written down along with your favorite menu items. Nights in his room cuddled up watching all of the movies you liked, you’d be so excited to see all of your favorite snacks already waiting for you. You’d wear that glitter lipgloss you loved, he’d make sure you had more than enough, considering he’d already bought two tubes for whenever he made you his. He imagined making love to you, hearing you moan for him as he pleasured you, then put you on his chest as you fell asleep, resting his eyes as he held you. You two could truly be in love.

I'd love to wipe these other bitches out, so it's just you and me.

But, you had a fucking boyfriend. It’s not like he didn’t like seeing you with other guys. He fucking hated it. Choso thought the guy was pretty scummy, he had that douchebag personality and always looked at guys like Choso like he was a piece of shit. But that asshole was truly a piece of shit. Megumi, or something like that. Choso didn’t bother doing too much digging up on him because it wasn’t gonna matter very soon. You guys had been dating since the beginning of the school year, not very long, but that didn’t stop him from talking to other girls when you weren't around. He’d forget your dates, and make you cry. Wouldn’t post you on his socials, almost pretended he was single. Choso had half a mind to stab him to death, mostly because he didn’t like the way he treated you, but also because then he wouldn’t be in the way anymore.

Then, there were your damn sorority sisters. Those bitches were definitely in the way. They took up too much of your time, making you busy every day with planning and meetings, to do what? Party and maybe, fundraise? He’d see them sometimes talking shit about you, saying you were weird or a bitch, or something else that wasn’t true about you. Choso would never say those things about you or treat you like that. You deserved someone who actually loved you and cared about you, none of these other distractions. He would give you the world, but that meant getting rid of the world you had first.

Oh, oh, this shit is scaring me…

Now, when Choso originally thought of doing this, he thought it was a little nuts. It was a little extreme, sure, but it was just an obstacle in the way to get to you. Sometimes, we do bad things for the people we love. It doesn't mean it's right, it means love is more important.

Choso originally thought of actually stabbing Megumi like he wanted to. That fell quickly when he really considered the situation. Megumi was on the lankier side which meant it would be more tactical to get a hit in, plus he’d need to find a time he’d be alone in a discreet location to hurt him with no one noticing. Not that he’d really care if someone saw, it would just mean he wouldn’t be able to live the rest of his life with you; that was not an option. Shooting would be just as difficult, shell casings and the sound of gunfire could get him in deep. Could steal the brakes from his car, but then there was the possibility you were in it when it crashed, and for that, he’d never forgive himself. He’d need something that anyone could have done, an accident perhaps, something that wouldn’t kill Megumi, just get him out the fucking way. Then he got a little idea.

Don't wanna stick my fingers in this, or I'll start to bleed…

“Hey, Megumi!”

“Do I know you?”

“Well, we literally live on the same floor, but um, no. Anyways, wanted to talk to you about something…”

“Get on with it.”

“It’s her birthday today, your girlfriend that is.”

“Oh yeah. Well, why the fuck do you care?”

“We’re kinda close, wanted to get her something, but I’ll be too busy with classes to give it to her. Do you mind giving it to her for me?”

“You got my girlfriend a gift, bitch? What the hell’s in this box?”

“Well, that’s kind of a surprise for her…”

“Get the fuck out of my face before I beat your ass. Leave my girl alone, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

Megumi had slammed the door on him, just like that. Usually, Choso would’ve been really torn by his insult. He was pretty pissed Megumi forgot your birthday too, but how could he be pissed, truly? Not when a sweet resolution to Megumi’s shitty ways was on the horizon.

“Megumi’s like totally dead!”

“Omg, what do you mean he’s dead?”

“Well, he went to the hospital ‘cause he came down with like a fever or something? Todo said he couldn’t even talk when he found Megumi in the hallway and his eyes were all watery. The doctors said he died of, shit, what’s it called again? Whatever, like he couldn’t breathe! I don’t know what the fuck happened, but damn, really sucks, ya know?”

“Babe, I’m so sorry. To be fair, he was a dick.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He didn’t have a big one either TBH.”

Well, shit. Choso didn’t mean to kill him, not really. He knew Megumi was a fuckin’ asshole, though. Paired with someone crushin’ on his girlfriend and his ego, Choso knew Megumi was gonna open that box. And what was in it? Initially, Ricin covered the inside of the box, which when inhaled, caused damage to the respiratory system, which Megumi could technically recover from. Choso had extracted the Ricin from some castor beans. The same castor beans that were crushed inside of the cupcake sitting in the box. All 10 of them. Originally, Megumi would’ve lived, had he just thrown it away and not have been nosy, and if he did end up giving it to you, Choso would be there to intervene and he’d deal with that explanation later. But Megumi chose to be a nosy bastard, open it, AND EAT THE CUPCAKE! It was comical, really, considering Ricin can’t be found in an autopsy, so Choso got away with it. It’s okay. It had to be done. That greedy asshole got what was coming to him, and with him out of the way, Choso was cleared to enact Phase 2.

It's sweet like saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me.

A couple of days after Megumi died, you pretty much got over it, walking about as if nothing happened. To be fair, he was cheating on you all the time, lied to you, and overall treated you like shit, so it wasn’t that hard. What Choso didn’t expect was for you to get kicked out of your sorority house.

“Listen, babe. Your dead boyfriend is really throwing off the vibe here. Plus, it’s bringing a lot of bad looks to the rest of us because it seems like you honestly don’t give a fuck that he died, and truthfully, neither do we, but damn bitch, try acting like it!”

“Please, Chapter President, I can act like I care, I just-”

“Sorry girlie. You’re still a sister, don’t worry. You do have to leave the house though.”

Choso felt a little bad. A little. They really were bitches, but this was perfect. He’d just saved himself from starting a gas leak at the Kappa house when you weren’t home. He didn’t like that your feelings were hurt though, and he beat himself up about it. Choso himself wasn’t really a good guy, killing your boyfriend on your birthday? Almost killing your sorority sisters before they pretty much kicked you to the curb? He was doing the exact opposite of being a good boyfriend. He’d be on his toes from now on, can’t risk ruining his chances with you. However, it was all in good light. You were becoming more and more ready to fall into his arms.

Apparently, you pretty much kept to yourself and stayed in your room. Your classwork was slacking a bit, and you couldn’t live at the house, but that didn’t stop you from still trying to be involved, participating in some campus events, and fundraising with your sisters despite your exile. You were a normal girl, humbled for sure, but Choso didn’t like that very much. He never intended to break you down like this, while you were still sweet in his eyes, he knew you loved the life you had before. He can’t unkill Megumi, which wouldn’t make sense anyway because Choso was your boyfriend now, but he’d give you a life even better than the first. One where you and he were together.

Like cherry pie, will you be mine?

Now, Choso was a real sweetheart, getting you so many gifts for when you came along, preparing how he’d approach you, compliment you, fuck you. But he was getting a little impatient. At this point, it was already the tail end of courses before winter break so he didn’t have much time to see you every day, even though he’d make that happen regardless. Plus, all of the shit that had happened to you would wear off in a couple of days, so he needed to act now. Choso knew he couldn’t make you fall in love with him overnight, and it would be too hasty to try to take it slow with you now. So, he had no choice. He was gonna kidnap you.

Now, “kidnapping” is a rather strong way to put it. In reality, Choso was gonna come to see you and talk a bit, but if that didn’t work, he’d hold you at knifepoint and make you come back to his dorm with him to enjoy all of the things he’d set up for you! He would never hurt you intentionally, so it’s not like he was gonna use it, but he had to make you think he would. He wished kidnapping you was legal, why wouldn't he want to be able to love you and take care of you all the time? It’s okay, you’d learn to love him back. After all, Choso wasn’t your ‘maybe’. Choso was your ‘one’.

Sweet to the core, I want some more.

Choso decided he’d make his move on you the night of the last Kappa party of the season, too many people for anyone to notice him running off with you, plus he knows you’d look so pretty in your party dress, hair all done up, heels making those legs of yours look so pretty. And you did! Except, you were crying. When Choso got to the party and spotted you, you were sniffling as you walked out the back door of the house. Now, he had to be strategic about this, so he exited out the front in time to catch you walking from the back. When he’d gotten outside, he saw you walking down the sidewalk, but it wasn’t very well, your heel had broken and you were having to walk barefoot. He felt terrible seeing you like that. You looked so sad, so scared, just broken. Choso had to make things right.

“Hey, you okay?”

I love you.

I can hear your words breaking down my core…

You looked up at him with those beautiful doe eyes of yours, bloodshot and watery from crying, but still, you looked stunning.

“Oh, hey Choso. Honestly? No, I’m like not okay at all.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, my ex died and everyone’s making a super big deal about it. Like, people kept coming up to me asking questions and stuff like I was there when he died or something.”

“Oh, um-”

“Sorry, I know I sound like a twat right now, but he cheated on me like all the time! It’s honestly a long shot to say we were even together, not be cocky or anything, but I think he dated me to make himself look better. Plus, he got me in hot water with my sisters, like he’s haunting me after death or whatever.”

“Sounds like he wasn’t really a good guy…”

“Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, now I have to walk back to my stupid dorm with no shoes because I fell over like a klutz and just embarrassed myself to the nines. I don’t even wanna go back there, just makes me sad, ya know? I came out to this stupid party to get my mind off things and it’s like things are just bleh. It doesn’t even feel like anyone likes me anymore. I wish someone just loved me for me, ya know?”

I think about you every day at least a hundred times or more.

Choso walked up and hugged you, bringing you into his embrace. It was a bold move for sure, especially with the knife sheathed on his waist, but he just hated seeing you cry like that. Soon, you’ll feel how nice it is to have someone care about you so much. To have someone who wants to revolve their entire life around you.

“It’s okay. Know you don’t know me very well, but I’m here for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be too forward or anything, but you can come back to my dorm for a few, that is, if you don’t wanna go back to yours.”

“That’s so sweet, thanks!”

Fuck, this was perfect! He didn’t even have to threaten to kill you! Choso offered to pick you up, which you happily agreed to, holding your heels in your hand as he carried you back to his dorm. On the way, you talked about a bunch of stuff you liked, mostly things he already knew about you, but there were a couple of new things that enticed him. You’d stopped crying, that sweet smile back on your face as you found comfort in Choso’s arms. He’d gotten back to his dorm fairly fast, not wanting to waste much time to get things rolling. He figured he’d start with telling you about his love for you, really seeing if you-

“OMG, YOU HAVE THIS???”

You pointed at the movie poster on his wall, one of your favorite movie. He’d studied it a lot, trying to figure out why you liked it so much. He’d watched it over ten times by now, buying the poster as a touch when you finally came, which worked!

“Yeah, it’s a pretty good-”

“Pretty good? It’s like the best movie ever!”

“We can, uh, watch it if you want.”

“Yes, I’d love that!”

Choso was so lucky. Here you were, sitting with him on his bed as you watched the movie. You’d stop every few minutes and point out something about it you knew a fun fact about or laugh at the parts you’d seen so many times. You were so damn cute. You’d pretty much forgotten all of the stuff going on, able to just relax with him for once. Don’t you see how nice this is? How special things can be?

“Oh wow, it’s getting late. Shit, I still have to walk back.”

Just like that, the movie was over. You looked tired, not just physically but mentally too. You couldn’t leave though, that’s not how this was gonna go.

“Are you sure you’re good to walk?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean, your heels are broken and it’s too dark outside to be out there by yourself. Something could happen to you.”

Fuck, Choso was a little too bold with that last part. He was probably coming on too strong, he’d need to fix-

“You’re worried about little ‘ol me?”

“Something like that…”

YES. He was so fucking worried that sweat was about to drip from his face, red with anxiousness that the love of his life was about to leave him behind.

“Well, you could always walk with me. Or do you just wanna spend more time with me?”

You gave him a little smirk and wink, it went straight to his dick as he tried to think of a way to respond.

“I, um… yeah, I would.”

Your answer to his statement would be the deciding factor between you staying or him picking up that knife from his jacket on the chair. Fortunately for you, you smiled and put your things back down, sitting on the bed as you looked up at him.

“Fine, but we’re gonna watch another movie. Your pick this time.”

You make me afraid, come closer, wait no, go away…

Ten minutes into this movie and he felt like he was gonna fucking explode. This time around, you’d gotten closer to him. Instead of sitting at the end of the bed, you laid beside him, not quite touching you, but he could definitely smell you, and fuck, you smelled so good. It was becoming painful to not touch you, but he couldn’t risk fucking this up. You looked so nice like this, chest moving up and down as you laid comfortably, eyes low, obvious you were getting tired.

“Hey, Choso?”

“What’s up?”

“Thanks for, ya know, being nice to me. I’m not anyone’s favorite these days…”

You looked so sad, but Choso couldn’t be happier. You were starting to recognize the only person who really cares about you is him!

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”

“Really? But, you barely know me.”

Choso actually knew you very well. Probably better than you know yourself.

“You’ve just got that type of personality that’s really easy to like, is all.”

You sat up now and looked Choso in the eyes, making him blush instantly.

“Oh yeah? So, you like me?”

Choso started stuttering and sweating, flustered beyond reason as you gave him one of those smirks. At this point, he didn’t even have to tell you. His body language was more than obvious.

“I was just kid-”

“Yes, I mean-”

You both looked at each other in shock. Why the fuck would he say that? You were fucking joking. Choso was stupid to think you were serious, not like he really had any chance with a girl like you. But that’s okay. He was gonna make one. Although, he didn’t know whether to love or hate you right now, most likely both. You looked up at him optimistically, like you were waiting on his response, but also blushing a bit as he nearly popped a blood vessel in front of you. He couldn’t even speak, choked up on his words as you brought your hand on top of the one he had leaning on the bed.

“Tell me, do you?”

“I do, for a while now.”

“So, why not ever talk to me?”

“Because you’re pretty hard to talk to.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re usually, um-”

“A bitch? Yeah, I am. But these past few weeks have humbled me.”

Choso wanted to laugh a little. Of course, it was because of him and the precautions he’s put in place for you two to end up together. You didn’t need to know that part though. You looked down, that same broken look you’d been putting off all night. Everything in him told him to stop, don’t be too hasty and he could probably get back to the plan, but it hurt him to see what he’d caused. It definitely didn’t help that you were crying again, bringing your knees to your chest as you fell into the realization of how messed up you felt. Choso pulled you into his arms, laying your face into his chest as he rubbed your back. You felt so warm, so soft, he didn’t want to let you go. Ever.

“It’s not your fault. So, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“Thanks, you’re right.”

It was hard to feel like the bad guy when you were smiling at him, finding comfort in his words. You two were dangerously close now, eye contact had him feeling like a deer in headlights, while you remained cool and collected, like usual. That’s one of the main things he loved about you, despite all of the crazy shit going on, you still try to appear fine, but that was far from the truth. He’d be a shoulder for you to cry on, someone you could depend on and pour your feelings into. Give your heart to someone who’s worthy of loving you back and spending their every breathing second devoted to keeping you happy.

Saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me.

You’d kissed Choso softly, leaning in slowly enough to feel his breath hitch on his lips when he realized what you were doing. It was perfect. Your lips felt even softer than he thought they would, gentle and loving as you brought yourself closer, closing the distance between you. He had to get his head together, he’d practiced this part over and over again, and all he had to do was focus and execute it. First, cup your face with his hand. You smiled into his lips when he did this, allowing him to move to the second step, and bring his hand to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. You softened into his touch as he laid your back on the bed, opening your legs to let him on top of you. You were so sweet, moaning softly into the air as he began sucking the skin of your neck. Choso wanted to claim you, he’d finally gotten to kiss you and he needed everyone to know you were his. He sucked a little harder and felt ecstatic when you didn’t stop him, instead groaning as bruises began to flower on your skin.

“Choso…”

Shit, you moaned his name. It felt exhilarating, something he’s been waiting for for so long finally coming true. It lit a fire under his ass, coming up to kiss your lips once before he brought his lips back down to your collarbones, moving lower as his hand massaged your side. Once he’d reached the skin of your breasts, he’d stopped, looking up to you for the green light to keep going. Even though you didn’t really have a choice in spending the rest of your life with him, consent was still pretty important to him, so when you gave him a nod, he took off. Choso brought his fingers to the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head as you brought your arms up to aid him. God, you were beautiful. Your tits were on full display to him now, nothing covering you but a lacy pink thong. He was gonna start hyperventilating, your tits lifted as you breathed, nipples calling out to him like they needed saving. He brought his lips down swiftly and wrapped his tongue around one of them, immediately putting the other between his fingers to pinch as the rest of his palm massaged your breast. You started whimpering for him now, touch-starved since your boyfriend died, but Choso hoped it was also because he was doing things better than anyone you’d been with before. He alternated his mouth, groping and sucking as much as he could, relishing in the feeling of your tits in his face for the first time. As much as he could stay there all day, he knew you needed more, so he kissed his way down your stomach, lips grazing your pantyline. Choso sucked the skin of your stomach as you bucked your hips against him, turned on as he took care of you.

“Choso, please…”

He looked up into your eyes as he brought his lips off your body, fingers hooking into the fabric of your thong as he pulled them off of you. Holy fuck. You were soaking wet, lips glistening with your juices as your hips shifted slightly to invite Choso in. Without hesitation, he brought his lips down to your pussy, beginning to devour you. You tasted amazing, drinking the nectar of a fruit long awaited and it almost made him regret not planning to kidnap you sooner. You smelled so fucking good too, your pussy engulfing all of his senses as he ate you like his last meal. Your fingers found their way into his hair, moaning his name into the air with every lick of your clit. Sideways, up and down, circles around your bud, anything he could to hear you moan for him, to make your pain go away. He’d brought your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands under the arch of your back, angling your hips so he could eat you exactly how he wanted. Messy and slow, he took his time spreading your juices all over his face as you panted and pulled at the sheets. He was self-indulgent, tongue pumping in and out of you as he lived out his fantasies of eating your pussy.

“Choso…I-I…”

Shit, you were close. Choso was about to make you cum! He doubled down immediately, bringing his arms over your thighs to keep you in place as you felt your orgasm approaching. He’d picked up his pace too, tongue moving at a hungry pace as he anticipated your cum in his mouth. The hand you had in his hair gripped tighter, Choso taking it as a cue to bring his lips up and suck your clit, suction bringing your bud against his tongue. You came fast and hard, grinding your pussy against his face as you came for him, his name slipping off your lips over and over as you rode out your high.

You’re sweet to the core.

You looked so pretty for him, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. Choso slowly kissed his way back up your body, lips finding themselves on yours. This kiss was different from before, more intense and confident. At that point, you’d already started unbuckling his jeans, kissing him feverishly as you helped him take his clothes off. Hovering over you, he looked at you in awe. Legs on either side of his, big doe eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to fuck you.

“Holy shit…”

Your hands found his hair, gripping and tugging at it as he slipped in at a slow pace. Choso took his time, exploring the walls he longed for the feeling of. Every stroke nearly sent him over, wet and warm, you were like heaven wrapped around his dick. You felt even better than he’d imagined, much better than his fist he fucked to the thought of you. Especially with how you were moaning for him, it was driving him crazy, all he could do was praise you.

“You’re perfect…so fuckin’ perfect…”

“I know…”

God, he’s never felt like this. You were sucking him in like you were made for him, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth on his shaft as he fucked you faster. You were so beautiful, lips pursed as you breathed up and down, eyes fluttering as he fucked you.

“You feel so good, baby…”

“Choso…”

His name was killing him. He’d put in so much time to make sure he fucked you exactly the way you needed him, he had to make the first time perfect. A man that could care for you. Love you. Please you. Choso finally had you, and he was going to give you the fucking world.

I need to hate you before it's too late…

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby…”

Choso gripped your legs tight as he fucked into you fast, making you scream his name out into the room. You were doing this for him! Moaning for him! And you felt so fucking good wrapped around him, more than anyone ever before. There wasn’t anyone before you and there wasn’t anyone before him. Your world would revolve around him now like his revolved around you, every waking moment of being in love would be magical.

“Choso, I-”

“Let me have it, baby. I’ve waited so long for it…”

He didn’t care what he was saying anymore, too high on you and your pleasure that he couldn’t think straight. If you were gonna cum for him, he needed it now, like his life depended on it. Something to signify the beginning of all of the pleasure he’d give you from this point forward.

“You know how long I’ve wanted this, baby? Fuck, I’m close…”

“That’s it, baby, let go, let me make you feel good…”

“So pretty, cumming on my dick like this…”

Choso was so fuckin obsessed with you. You came down like an angel, eyes fluttering as you murmured his name softly, body melting into the bed. He halted inside you as he came, losing his mind over the way your nails dug into his arms. You two lay there panting for a bit, Choso’s arm bringing you into his chest. So beautiful like this. He’d finally made it, you in his arms, right where you belonged.

Before I crave you…so please go away.

“So, I’m not going back to my dorm tonight, am I?”

No, of course, you weren’t.

“Do you really want-”

“I don’t want to.”

Choso was shocked to hear your words. You actually wanted to stay here with him, he didn’t even have to scare you into doing it!

“Do you have a T-shirt or something? It’s kinda cold in here.”

“Uh, yeah, let me grab-”

“No problem, I’ll get it!”

Stop it. FUCKING STOP. You were getting too comfortable, about to open Pandora’s box with your hand on his closet door. Choso should stop you, whatever it would take. By the time he’d gotten to the knife, you’d opened the closet, pictures of you all over the walls. Choso lingered behind you now, knife behind his back as he waited for your reaction. You just had to be so fuckin nosy, you’d ruined everything.

“Choso…are these pictures of me?”

He gripped the knife tightly in his hand as he watched you look through them. He couldn’t even speak, heartbreak and murderous intent flowing out of him. Every picture put another pin in his heart. Photos of you around campus, through your dorm window, in class, all open for you to see. You brought your hand up to one, pulling it down as you looked over it. The picture he took of you on Valentine’s Day. You’d been sitting in class that day, sad because Megumi hadn’t gotten you anything, which Choso figured he wouldn’t. That’s why he had three dozen roses delivered to you on the lawn later that day, eyes brightening as you held them and read the card: “Happy Valentine’s Day, Princess. ~ your secret admirer.” You were so damn happy that day, so perfect. Now, you had to die.

“It was you, huh? All this-”

“Yes. It was always me.”

You pulled another one down, the one of you winning Miss Sophomore. Your face had the brightest smile, holding that crown on your head as you cried tears of joy. You smirked at it, cheeks blushing a bit.

“I look really good in this one, glad someone got a shot of it. So, you liked me this much?”

You’d turned to look at him now, giving him a confused face. Probably because Choso was sweating buckets. His hand shook behind him as he looked at you nervously, analyzing everything about you, any sign that you were scared or wanted to leave.

“I’d call it more than that.”

“So, why not-”

“Because I wanted things to be perfect. I wanted to be perfect for you.”

You gave him a nervous nod and turned back to the closet, pulling down a photo of you in your room back at the Kappa house.

“How’d you do it?”

“I…huh?”

“How’d you take this without getting caught?”

You looked back at him now, a serious look on your face that told him he better fuckin’ answer. What was he gonna do? There was no point in lying to you, everything was there for you to see.

“I learned you and the other girl’s schedules to make sure everyone was asleep.”

“So, what else ya got? Pictures can’t be the only thing.”

Choso pointed to the top shelf of the closet hesitantly. You brought down the bin carefully, sitting it down on his desk as you opened the lid.

“What the fuck, Choso? I was looking everywhere for this lipgloss!”

You’d begun rummaging through the bin, picking up things in remembrance of when you lost them. A couple of hair ties, eyeliner, lipstick napkins. You acted as if there was nothing wrong with this, and it was making it really hard for Choso to read you. His hand alternated between wanting to drop the knife or use it, heart pulsing frantically as you tried on old jewelry of yours. Satisfied with your findings, you moved back to the closet, pulling down the other box on the shelf. The one with his gifts for you.

“Wait! You’re not supposed to see that yet!”

“What is it?”

“It’s something really special... just please, you’re gonna ruin everything!”

You shot him a concerned look and rolled your eyes, walking back over to the bed to take a seat.

“Answer a couple of questions for me, ‘kay?”

“I-I…”

“Question one, when did this start?”

“...Freshman year, rush week…the first time we met…”

You looked at him surprised. That meant he’d been stalking in love with you for almost four years now and never acted on it.

Just confiscate you, my teeth are in pain…

“Question two, what’s behind your back?”

“Nothing…important…”

Choso was shaking in fear, so much so, he dropped the fucking knife. You both watched it fall to the floor behind him, your mouth agape in shock as he frantically bent over to pick it up. He couldn’t tell what was more awkward, him dropping it on the floor or him picking it up and sitting it on his desk like nothing happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU GONNA DO WITH THAT?”

“DAMAGE CONTROL.”

“FOR WHAT?”

“FOR WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!”

“YOU WERE GONNA STAB ME?”

“NO, I WAS JUST GONNA MAKE SURE YOU DIDN’T LEAVE!”

“ARE YOU FUCKIN’ CRAZY?”

“I’M NOT CRAZY, I’M IN LOVE!”

You scoffed and chuckled, stunned at his statement. Choso was bright red, on the verge of a panic attack. So many thoughts, so many mistakes, you knew almost everything now. All of the things he wanted to do for you, show you, give you, it all meant nothing now. Still, you sat there completely calm, aside from the fact the guy who just fucked your brains out was possibly about to kill you.

“Question three, this is an important one. Did you kill Megumi?”

“It was ruled a death from natural causes.”

“Yeah, tell that shit to someone else, did you kill him?”

Choso didn’t really care to hide things now, too far gone. Especially not how he got rid of that asshole you called a boyfriend.

“Yes, I did; and I don’t regret it.”

“How’d you do it?”

“I poisoned him with Ricin.”

“RICIN? HOW THE FU-”

“I put it inside of a box I told him was supposed to be for you.”

“Why?”

“Because he was a terrible boyfriend to you and you didn’t deserve to be with a guy who couldn’t even remember your birthday. Not to mention, he would’ve never died if he didn’t open what was meant for you, nosy fucker.”

“So, you were jealous? Most people would just beat the guy’s ass, you definitely knocked it out the park with that one.”

“Yes, he didn’t deserve to have you! He took you for granted when there was somebody much more fit to make you happy!”

“And that’s you?”

“Yes, just…please…don’t leave. Not before I make things perfect for you!”

You sat back on your hands, thinking a bit and bouncing your leg. Choso had said too much. Not only did he admit to killing Megumi, but now if you really did hate him, you could get him arrested too. Which meant you two would have to live apart. That was no longer an option.

“Even If I wanted to leave, I don’t think you’d actually give me the choice. Plus, it’s kinda…sweet?”

“Sweet?...”

“Yeah, never had someone like me this much, let alone kill my boyfriend to get closer to me.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

“No, not really. Well, maybe for planning to stab me. Not like I can make you untake the pics, but I’ll need some of my stuff back. I’m more impressed than anything. I’m not even gonna ask how you got the Ricin or half of this stuff.”

Choso didn’t know how to feel, or how to react. Why were you so calm about this? Why weren’t you scared? Why were you still here willingly? He couldn’t move at all, locked in place in fear as he watched you get into the bed and turn on another movie.

“You gonna come lay with me or just stand there?”

“I just…I-”

You sat straight up now, looking him dead in the eyes as his body quivered in reaction.

“What’s your deal, huh? Didn’t you kill a guy to be with me?”

“Yes, technically, I-”

“So, be with me, Choso! Unless you’re just like a murderer or whatever, that’s kinda fucked up.”

I'm gonna break you before I can say…

Choso was lost for fuckin’ words. You were laying on his chest now, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth as you finally relaxed. Everything he had done to get you with him had paid off. You were so perfect, lips pursed while you breathed up and snuggled your face into him. Just his sweet, sweet girl.

“So, the whole, um, thing…”

“What, you being fucking insane?”

“I’m not insane, just very dedicated to the woman I love!”

“Well, the way I see it, all my other boyfriends couldn’t stop looking at other girls, but you? You’re perfect, you’re already obsessed with me! Just don’t kill anyone else, ‘kay?”

“I’ll try.”

I love you.

♱ the song used in this story is saccharine by jazmin bean. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

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chimcess · 2 months

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Waterlog || pjm (5)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 10.8k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, talks of panic attacks, talks of sex, k*ssing, I love them so much, jimin still the best boyfriend, small argument, insecurities, strong language, one bed trope, healthy relationship conversations, boundary setting, friends being friends, character has cancer, talks of character death (brief), dry humping, moaning, things are picking up A/N: I know I'm late again, but I have a lot of personal stuff going on in my life at the moment that had made writing challenging. First a breakup, then finding a new apartment, moving, and then waiting for my internet to get turned on. It's been hectic for me! But we are back. This was very lightly edited so I apologize in advance for any issues there might be. I will go through and edit this eventually, I just wanted to get it out for you guys!

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The drive to Jimin’s house was quick, the traffic not fully registering in my mind as I lost myself in thought. I had only ever been in love once before, and that had been a very different time in my life. I was no longer that same person, and the anxiety these new feelings were bringing up made me nauseous. I was not ready to say anything was certain, but I knew for a fact that I was falling hard and fast.

The small suburb was nice with large homes. A few new modern builds stuck out like a sore thumb, but the area had still kept much of its original blue-American-suburban charm. Coming from Colorado, I was not used to seeing large front lawns or children’s toys left out after dark. Jimin was just ahead of me and I slowed down when his tail lights came on.

The house was definitely brand new. I had never liked modern buildings, the architecture lacking the charm and personality I sought out when buying my own place in the Springs, but it suited the swimmer. It was difficult to make out much color, but I could tell it was mostly white with black accents on the front. Large windows took up a majority of the walls and a small balcony was above the front door. It was smaller than the other homes, but the yard was bigger than the rest, and a tall fence enclosed the back of the property.

Taking a second to prepare myself for the rest of the night, I watched Jimin get out of Fiona and open up the two door garage at the front. He seemed to be in a rush, casting a few quick glances at my car as he paced back to the truck to pull it inside. I do not think he could see me looking back.

Picking up my phone, I called Hoseok.

“Everything okay?” He picked up, out of breath.

I smiled, “I’m okay. Promise.”

He had been extra worried about tonight. Out of everyone, Hoseok knew how huge this was for me. At one of our many late night parties I had told him that I could never love again, and that I never wanted to know that feeling again. If it wasn’t Namjoon then it could not be anybody. At the time he had reassured me, but as the years went on he had truly believed that I had completely closed off that part of my heart. To be so excited about someone had him cautious- even if he did poke fun at me most of the time.

“Why are you calling me then?” He asked.

“Just needed a bit of a pep talk,” I admitted, eyes still locked on Jimin’s truck. “I’m at his house. Feeling a little nervous.”

He hummed, “He seems like a good guy. Don’t think there’s anything you need to worry about. Just enjoy yourself.”

I sighed, watching the garage door close, knowing I would have to get out of the car soon. “I think I’m going insane.”

“Talk to me about it.”

Jimin stood by the garage door, looking at my car. I rolled the window down and waved, gestured to the phone, and managed a pathetic smile. He nodded, still watching me with a strange look on his face.

“I think I love him,” I mumbled, unable to look away from him.

Hoseok laughed, “You just figured that out? Baby, anyone with eyes and ears can see how you feel about the kid.”

“It’s been two seconds, Hobi. We barely know each other.”

“You don’t have to tell him anything,” My friend reasoned, voice nothing but friendly. “You’re all over the place right now, and you need to really think about how you feel. No one wants to hear someone ‘thinks’ they love them. Breathe. Relax. Enjoy yourself.”

As I steadied my breathing, I noticed Jimin’s face becoming concerned. He always knew when something was wrong, and it did not surprise me when he started walking across the front yard towards my car.

“I have to go,” I choked out, panic bubbling in my chest with each step he took. “I don’t want him hearing us.”

“Otter-”

I hung up the phone and smoothed down my hair. My heart was running at a million miles an hour and my hands were shaking. I hated how worked up I got over nothing. Disgusted and discouraged, I forced a smile on my face and opened the car door. My phone vibrated, the sensation tickling my hand, but I chose to ignore it. Fake it till you make it, I told myself. The curve of Jimin’s mouth told me I was not fooling anyone.

“Everything okay?” He asked, coming to stand in front of me.

“Yeah,” I breathed, nodding frantically. In my panic, I did not see the curb and tripped. Jimin reached out to help steady me before I could fall. I shuttered. “Everything is fine. Hoseok just called to check in with me. Didn’t realize we were out together.”

The lie felt heavy on my tongue and Jimin’s eyebrows came together in confusion. He knew I was lying and it made the sinking in my gut all the more unbearable. Knowing I needed to get a grip, I stepped out of his arms and gestured to the house.

“Nice place,” I sounded like I had just run a marathon. “It’s very you.”

Jimin was quiet. Still trying to avoid talking about my odd behavior, I began rambling on and on about how much I liked the landscaping. The large bushes that surrounded the small front porch were a nice pop of color for the otherwise neutral paint job.

“Is that a gnome wearing a swimming ring?” I asked, squinting trying to make out the little figure in the darkness. “That’s so cute. Did your mom buy you that? I-”

“Y/N.”

My mouth clamped shut.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked, reaching out to caress my shoulder. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

I sighed, finally done hiding my very apparent discomfort. “Just really nervous about how I’m feeling.”

“Tell me about it?”

I looked at him and nodded, “Can we go inside? It’s really cold.”

“Of course, angel.”

The pet name made me short circuit long enough to get inside without saying another word. Were we on that level now? Would it be okay for me to start calling him sweet little names like that? Would he want me to? What would I even call the guy? Nothing seemed good enough. No words could ever be good enough to express everything that he was becoming to me.

“I can take your coat,” Jimin murmured in my ears, hands already helping me shrug out of the dark wool coat. “Shoes go on that little shelf over there.”

“Thank you,” I absentmindedly replied, still dazed.

What about babe? No, too conventional. Sweetheart? No, that was Joon’s thing. Honey? We are definitely not beating the old woman allegations with that one. That also rules out darling and sweetie. He’d never let me live that down.

“Feeling a bit better now?” He asked, hand on the small of my back as he led me further into the house. “You’re not shaking anymore.”

I had not realized how off course my thoughts had gotten. I got so swept up in him that everything else just faded away. Pleased, I smiled and nodded.

He chuckled, “Where did your mind go this time, angel girl?”

I giggled, giddy that we were keeping up the terms of endearment.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” I leaned into his touch, melting in his arms as we walked. He finally wrapped me up completely, pressing me into his side with his hand on my hip. “I like it when you call me that.”

Jimin hummed, “What? Angel?”

I nodded, putting my head on his shoulder. It was a bit awkward but I dealt with the discomfort. I enjoyed being this close to him. Knowing that he seemed just as eager to be here with me was a bonus.

“What do you think of the place?” He asked.

Blinking, I tried to disguise the fact that I had not been paying attention to a single thing since we walked inside. Letting my eyes wonder, I almost laughed at how accurate Jimin’s description of his house was.

Standing in his living room, I marveled at how dark everything was. Black leather sofas, a dark gray fluffy rug, a flat screen, and a black iron fireplace were the stand out pieces. There were a few family photos on the mantle and a fake potted plant beside it, but other than that it was completely barren. It was just as sad and depressing as he said it would be, but instead of feeling disappointed it only made me smile. Everything in here was his and now I was included in that.

“I love it.”

He laughed, squeezing me impossibly closer, “You don’t have to lie. I know it’s the quintessential bachelor pad.”

“I’m not lying,” I argued. “It’s perfect. Very you.”

“Even the dusty, ugly, fake Der Rose Jungkook got me as a housewarming gift?”

“Especially that,” I joked.

“Okay clown,” He laughed, pulling away from my side. “Go sit on the couch and I’ll make us some hot chocolate. Need to warm you up.”

Giving me the remote for the very large television hanging above the fireplace, Jimin promised to be back soon and left me in charge of finding something good to watch. After flicking through a few channels, I ended up settling on 21 Jump Street and ogled at Johnny Depp and Holly Robinson Peete. My dad and I used to watch the show together when I was young, and it brought me back to the few happy times that we had. I really needed to call him.

“Damn that’s a handsome man.”

I jumped, “Jesus you scared me.”

Jimin laughed, setting down two mugs on his coffee table. They were steaming hot and I decided to leave mine to cool off for a few seconds. Taking his seat next to me, Jimin was quick to throw his arm around my shoulders and pull his legs up onto the sofa.

“Get comfortable,” He said, crossing his legs. “It’s just me.”

“Yeah,” I snorted, curling my legs up next to me and placing my head on his shoulder. “That’s the problem.”

“You’re being extra flirty tonight,” He teased. “I like it.”

I chose to stay quiet and watch the show. This was one of my favorite episodes. Hanson, Hoff, and Loki go undercover to try and solve a string of drive-by shootings between a couple of gangs, and Booker is trying to investigate a dirty cop on the force. I always loved the scenes between Johnny Depp and Holly the most. They were so cute together and the chemistry was crazy even though their characters never ended up together.

Jimin started playing with my hair, his fingers gently caressing my neck before scratching my scalp. It felt amazing and I relaxed even further into his side. After that episode was over, he leaned down and put his head on top of mine. Another episode came on, this was the second part to the previous, and I let my eyes close. This was really nice. And to think I almost let it all go to shit because I could not keep myself from spiraling.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” I mumbled.

“Don’t be,” He whispered back, placing a small kiss on the top of my head. “Never apologize for being upset.”

Taking a deep breath, I thought about what Hoseok had said. There was no reason to tell him anything right now, or at least, the “L” word did not need to come into conversation. Still, it felt wrong to keep him in the dark. Jimin was always willing to listen and I felt awful for lying to him earlier.

“I really like you and sometimes it scares me,” I admitted quietly. “I called Hoseok to see if he had any advice. Sorry I lied about that.”

He shook his head, “I’m not upset with you, angel. Sometimes they scare me, too.”

“Really?” I had never really thought about that before.

“Of course,” He chuckled, moving away to look down at me. I lifted my head in a rare act of bravery. “I don’t think you understand just how amazing you are.”

I smiled lazily, unable to look away from him. He looked so beautiful in this lighting. The tv on one side of his face, the darkness in the rest of the house casting a dark shadow on the rest of it. I noticed his head inching closer, eyes heavily lidded as he watched me, waiting for a reaction. Heart pounding, I did the only thing I could think of. I closed my eyes and tilted my head higher.

“You smell so good,” He murmured, lips brushing mine. “God, you’re so pretty.”

I opened my mouth to respond but was unable to get anything out before his lips were pressed against it. I breathed out through my nose and allowed myself to just enjoy it. His lips were so soft and plump, his upper lip just barely scratching my skin with peach fuzz, and chin ever so gently bumping against mine as we came together.

My skin was on fire as he invaded every cell in my body until all I could think about was him. His hand gripped the back of my neck and pressed us together roughly, his tongue licking against my bottom lip asking to be let inside. There was nothing he couldn’t ask for now. I mewled embarrassingly when our tongues twisted together. Jimin groaned in response.

“Is this okay?” He rasped when we pulled apart for air.

I replied by taking his face in my hands and pulling him back in for more. Jimin responded eagerly, gripping my neck tighter and holding me close. I hummed in satisfaction, leaning into his chest. His skin was on fire beneath me and I briefly wondered if his chest got as pink as his cheeks did.

Jimin broke away, dragging my body closer until I was practically laying on his lap, before guiding my mouth back to his. My lips were numb, swollen, and still begging for more. The show was long forgotten, the noise also like static in the background as I suckled on his bottom lip. Jimin whined, fingers twisting into my hair as he held me in place.

“Feeling okay?” He mumbled into my mouth, taking a second to catch his breath.

“Great,” I slurred, before shutting him up again.

I lost track of time as we sat there entangled in one another. Lips hardly able to feel anything anymore, I broke away and tried to calm my racing heart. Jimin took the opportunity to go for my neck, his plush lips delicate against my skin. I shuttered.

I could feel my panties sticking to my folds, slick gently wetting my thighs as he continued his gentle assault on my neck. He never sucked hard enough to leave marks behind, but after a few moments I could safely say Jimin was a fan of teeth. They scratched my skin softly, tickling me in the process, before his tongue smoothed over any redness that might have popped up. Moaning, I tilted my head back and granted him more access.

“You’re so fucking hot,” He rasped, licking a long stripe up my neck before biting my ear. “So needy.”

I chuckled, the sound breathless. “Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

I giggled, kissing his cheek, “Such a boy.”

I nodded, kissing the underside of my chin before pecking my lips.

“I’m your boy,” He smiled lazily, kissing me again.

“Yes,” I agreed, unable to stop smiling as I cradled his face between my hands. “My good-looking boy.”

With one final peck on my chin, Jimin leaned back into the sofa and dragged my body down with his. Laying on top of his body, my eyes fixated on the tv. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was playing now, and I grinned. It was one of my favorite shows to watch when I had a bad day. It was nice to have it with me at this moment. A happy memory with my comfort show in the background only sweetened the already tender moment.

“She should have been with Spike,” Jimin’s chest rumbled underneath me.

Getting more comfortable, I nodded.

“I kind of like that she decided to stay friends with them both. Tara and Willow were the power couple anyway.”

“Not a fan of Oz?” He started playing with my hair.

“I liked them, too, but for different reasons. The only other couple that comes close to Tara and Willow were Giles and Jenny.”

We were quiet as we watched, small kisses shared during commercial breaks, and I never felt the need to try and open my mouth. Nothing needed to be said when our feelings were so apparent. Hoseok, as usual, was right. I just needed time to breathe and think about things before running head first into a love confession. And if he said anyone with eyes and ears could see how I felt, then there was no real reason for me to say anything. Jimin already knows. He always did.

“God, I’ve always loved that DeSoto Fireflite,” I gushed, eyeing Spike's car hungrily. “The ‘59 model is sexy.”

“Why do you know so much about cars?” He asked.

“My dad’s a mechanic,” I explained. “He owns his own restoration shop back in Pennsylvania and I used to go over there all of the time. I almost ditched swimming to take over the body shop when he lost an employee.”

“You never stop amazing me,” He murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Has he found anything cool recently?”

I grew quiet. Truthfully, I had no clue. It had been almost two years since we last spoke, and I doubted he was looking forward to hearing from me. He had a new family. A new life. One that did not have the space for me in it. My silence must have worried Jimin because he asked if I was okay.

“We don’t talk anymore,” I replied. “He got remarried a few years ago and his wife doesn’t like me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “It’s juvenile, really. He seems happy though, so I don’t push it.”

“They don’t deserve you. You’re too good to be treated like that.”

I laughed, eyes prickling with unshed tears. I did not talk about this often and it felt nice to get it off of my chest. For a long time Victor had been the person I looked to as a father figure, and we still keep in touch. He always calls for holidays and birthdays, checks in randomly, and asks me how I’m doing. He stayed with me through the worst of the damage, and only left Colorado when his daughter decided to move abroad for school. Denver was too expensive to justify the expenses and his new trainee was in Florida. I missed him a lot more than I ever realized.

“I made my own family, though. Couldn’t have picked better.”

Colorado would always be home because that was where pieces of my heart lived. Jin, Andy, and Hoseok were never planning on moving. Minho would be there as long as Tilly was, and she was around for Hoseok. I had a feeling Max would change that, and the two of them may end up starting a new adventure with Minho in tow. A trouple for the ages. That made me grin.

Michigan was starting to feel like my own adventure. New bonds and ties are formed with each passing day. Going back to Colorado helped to put that in perspective. It did not matter if I was there or not, because my family was, and I would always have a place there. Ann Arbor was different.

The person I envisioned myself spending the rest of my life with lived here, his family and friends becoming like my own, and I could never ask him to leave them. When Na-Yeon died someone would need to be around for James and the kids. When Jungkook and Darcy inevitably went their separate ways, he would need a shoulder to cry on. Taehyung and his panic attacks. Milo and his work stresses. All of it meant that someone needed to be around to bring them back to themselves, and I wanted to be a part of that in any way they would allow me.

“I’m really happy that I met you,” I told Jimin, eyes not truly focusing on the show anymore. “Being here with you- I couldn’t ask for more.”

A kiss on my head, “I feel the same way, angel.”

I fell asleep like that. Jimin had to wake me up a little after one in the morning to see if I wanted to sleep at his place. I politely declined since I promised the Andersons that I would be back for breakfast tomorrow and left shortly thereafter. I barely even focused on the ride home, tired and drunk off of the high of the evening.

Calvin was awake when I walked through the front door. A plate of cookies in front of him, he held up a finger to his lips and pointed upstairs. Violet had been strict about his diet as of late. The last time he had gone to the doctor his cholesterol levels were slightly elevated, and we had been eating very bland, not all that great food ever since. I smiled sleepily, stealing a cookie for myself as payment. We would never speak of this night again.

Finishing up my cookie, I quickly peeled out of my clothes before heading into the bathroom to do my skincare routine. Exhausted, I was barely aware of the text I sent to Jimin before I climbed into bed. I was asleep before my head ever hit the pillow.

“You’re still not hitting your best time,” I spoke into my headset, looking at the stop watch in my hand. “We’re only at 90%. I want 92%.”

Jimin groaned, frustrated and tired. We had been at this all morning and he was not making as much progress as I hoped he would. I had prepared an 200s anaerobic training set so we could work on his endurance. For the last few weeks we were focused on speed and mastering his butterflies and turns. Now that we were feeling more comfortable training together I was moving onto those issues I had at the beginning. So far it was not going over well.

“This is bullshit,” He huffed, pulling his goggles up. “I’ve been at this for hours and haven’t done anything.”

I shook my head and fought to keep myself neutral. Training had become a bit challenging to work around given our new relationship status, but we both agreed to keep that out of our sessions. We had another date next Friday. He was refusing to tell me where we were going, the only hint being we would be going to Jungkook’s game, but the rest was a mystery.

“You’re getting better,” I replied, holding the microphone closer to my mouth. I had woken up with a sore throat and could not speak loud enough on my own, so we were finally using my old earpiece to communicate. “You went from 88% to 90%. I think with some more drills we can get up a bit more.”

He went to put his goggles back on, but I told him to stop.

“We’re done for the day,” I said, rubbing my raw throat. “You’re getting angry and I’m losing my voice.”

He stared at me, glowering childishly, and crossed his arms across his chest. Lifting my head a little higher, I looked at him with an eyebrow raised. It was a challenge, one we both knew meant I was losing my patience. Normally he would back down at this point, tucking his tail between his legs, and going to the back to get changed. Today, it would seem, was not a normal day.

“No we’re not,” He said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed. “I’m not where I want to be.”

“Yes. We. Are,” I made a show of emphasizing every word, tossing my clipboard onto the duffle at my feet. “Something is bothering you. If you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine, but you’ve been acting like a brat all morning.” I ripped my whistle off my neck, bent down, and shoved both it and the stopwatch into the pocket of the duffle bag. Jimin was still pouting in the center of the pool. “I’m not arguing with you. I’m sick and you’re angry. Just go get dressed.”

My throat burned. I talked too much and had not given the sore skin time to rest. Rubbing my forehead, I breathed through my nose in an attempt to cool off. His attitude was really starting to piss me off.

Angry, Jimin made his way out of the pool far louder than necessary. I sighed when the locker room door slammed behind him. I got us off on the wrong foot this morning by being snippy and curt with my answers. His foul mood only made it worse. As training went on I had gotten back into the groove, my annoyance over being ill forgotten, but my bad behavior had obviously bothered him enough to keep him frustrated with me for the rest of the morning. It did not help that I never apologized.

I took more time packing up my things today hoping that I could “bump into” Jimin before leaving. I tried to think of the right way to word my own frustrations without undermining what happened between us. I hurt his feelings, and I needed to take ownership of that.

“Sorry for acting like an ass.”

I shouted, shocked, and nearly slipped on the wet floor. Rebalancing on the balls of my feet, I looked over to see Jimin standing at the locker room door. He was still wearing his cap but threw on a pair of shorts.

“I thought you were taking a shower,” I rasped, all of the fire from earlier gone.

“Me too,” He ran a hand over his face and leaned against the closed door. “Just felt wrong letting you leave like that.”

I nodded, swallowing thickly. My saliva irritated my throat more and I winced in pain. I really needed something to help with the pain.

“It’s not just you,” I finally said, my voice cracking. “I acted like an asshole this morning and you had every right to be upset. I’m sorry I didn’t apologize, either.”

“Doesn’t mean I should have gotten all pissy,” He sighed, looking more relaxed now than he had all day. “I’ve always had a bad temper, but that’s not an excuse to talk to you like that. It wasn’t even that big of a deal.”

He was doing that thing again, the thing where he downplayed his own hurt feelings and redirected blame onto himself. Not wanting his mind to go down that rabbit hole, I walked over to him. I rarely went to this side of the room. I usually used the employee shower in the back since I felt less exposed, but Jimin never felt ashamed of his nakedness. The only reason he started putting shorts on is because he noticed how awkward I became.

“It’s okay to be mad at me,” I soothed, reaching out to take hold of his hand. “We both acted a little childishly. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Nodding, he leaned forward to rest his head on my shoulder.

“I just feel bad,” He whispered into my skin. “You’re not feeling well and here I am making it worse. I’m such a dick sometimes.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close. Despite our second date being postponed due to training and the charity event this weekend, the physical affection we showed one another only ramped up. Kissing was Jimin’s new favorite thing, and I hoped we could take it a step further this weekend. Even if he was cool with taking things slow I had come to find out that I was not. Maybe after a nice conversation we could fool around a little more.

“So am I,” My voice was almost gone. “Now, can we stop arguing and get breakfast? A hot chocolate is the only thing that’s going to make me feel better.”

He chuckled, lifting his head to look at me. He was no longer angry, eyes dancing, and I felt a surge of energy run through me. Sick or not, I would do just about anything to keep him smiling. Even if it meant doing the hardest thing imaginable: apologizing. Stepping out of my embrace, Jimin took hold of my hand and walked us back to my duffle bag. He always insisted on carrying it.

“I think a hot tea would be much better for a sore throat,” He mused, “But if it’s cocoa you want, well, who am I to stop you?”

Rolling my eyes, I leaned into his side, “Who’s paying?”

“Me,” He scoffed. “Obviously. Denny’s is way cheaper than putting gas in my truck.”

That made me laugh loudly, the pain in my throat forgotten. We had a rule between the two of us. If you didn’t buy breakfast then you were buying gas for the day. Jimin had taken extra time coming to scoop me up this morning since I woke up sick and refused to stay in bed. After a lengthy conversation about money, we both agreed that he could pay for all of our dates if I could split up other costs with him. While not happy about it, he conceded.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” I teased, rolling my eyes.

The gym was filled, always packed just before and after lunch time. The lull of the afternoon would carry over until around 6 and we had a decent sized group until closing. When Giselle opened up at 5:30 the following morning, the same group of guys were always the first ones in the door. I had spoken to them a handful of times and helped spot one of them once or twice, but that was the most of my interactions with anyone that exercised here. None of us really wanted to be bothered, and kept mostly to ourselves.

Giselle and Sam were chatting at the host stand when we walked by. Jimin was always nice enough to greet his staff, but never stuck around for too long. They were all friendly, and he was very good friends with Yoongi and Megan, but he was too focused on keeping up with his daily schedule to hang out. Despite being late to everything, Jimin was an extremely organized person and hated it when his plans were disrupted.

“Where are you two headed?” The young woman asked, a genuine smile on her face as she glanced down at our hands.

“Breakfast,” I answered. Giselle was easily my favorite person here, her only competition being Megan or Yoongi, and I always tried to make time for her when she was available. “Do you need something?”

She shook her head, “Not right now, but would you be okay with bringing in a case of the blue Monsters tomorrow? We just ran out and Yoongi is feeling it hard.”

I laughed and agreed. Yoongi was the resident caffeine addict on staff and would go through pot after pot of coffee during his shift. After Drew, the general manager, told him he was using too many of the Keurig cups, he had moved onto energy drinks. The Lo-Carb Monsters were his favorite, and I was not surprised to hear he was out. He bought a four pack every other day.

“I’ll DoorDash a few packs to the building right now. I owe him anyway.”

“Are you ordering from Busch’s?” Sam asked.

I nodded, “Probably. I know they’ll have them. What’s up?”

“Can you throw in a couple of sushi rolls?” He asked, and my phone vibrated in the side pocket of my leggings. “I sent you $20. I totally forgot to pack my lunch and I’m swamped with sessions today.”

“Sure man. Spicy crab rolls?”

“You’re an angel,” Sam sighed. “Make sure you get plenty of rest. You sound like shit.”

“Thanks,” I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “See you tomorrow. I think Park will be riding solo tonight.”

Jimin chuckled, “I’m planning on skipping the gym tonight, too.”

We walked out of the building, hands swinging between us. The feeling was so familiar and yet so foreign. I had not dated since Joon’s passing and was severely out of practice, but Jimin made it feel easy.

“You? Skipping leg day? Scandalous.”

Jimin laughed, sounding like sunshine. “And let my girl sit at home sick by herself?”

That shut me up. After learning I was a sucker for pet names, Jimin had gotten into the habit of using them to get his way. Feeling my face heating up, I forced a laugh as I let go of his hand and rounded the truck. My girl. It made me feel both terrified and comforted at the same time.

My girl…Angel…Angel Girl… I couldn’t pick a favorite.

“Do you mind if I come over?” Jimin sounded less confident now.

I had barely noticed him starting the truck. Must have zoned out again.

“I don’t have much to do,” I admitted. “My place is pretty boring.”

“You’re there,” He shrugged. “And you have a tv. I’m sure we can think of something.”

“Okay,” I hid my smile behind my hand and started to look out of the window.

Saline was very beautiful. At this time of year, many of the trees were barren but I knew they would look gorgeous in the summer. I frowned. I was set to be back in Colorado by then if I could not make up my mind about the move.

“Don’t get quiet on me, gran-gran,” I snorted. “You don’t blink when you zone out and it’s creepy.”

“I so do,” I laughed, turning to look at the pretty boy. “You are such a liar.”

That did nothing but make him laugh. “Might want to order those drinks, by the way.”

I thanked him for the reminder and quickly made a small shopping cart. I threw in a few extras. Coconut creamer for Skye, a new box of Hot Pockets for Drew and Dominic, and a large box of cookies and chips for the rest of the staff. Before I could check out, a page popped up of previous things I had ordered before and I quickly added one of those expensive bags of cookies. Those were Megan’s favorite and she had bought me two coffees this week.

“Do you want anything?” I asked Jimin.

“Maybe some seaweed chips?” We were turning into the Denny’s parking lot. “Thanks, angel.”

I added in a few other items. Band-aids because I knew we were running low, more tea bags, the coffee pods Yoongi liked, and a few different packets of the candy for Giselle. She had such a sweet tooth it was a miracle she only had one cavity. It took me a bit longer to find Jimin’s favorite brand of seaweed chips, and I decided to toss in a few different flavors of the spicy ramen he loves to eat as well. Finally happy with my order, I checked out and messaged Sam that I secured his lunch. He sent me the sunglasses emoji as a reply.

“Earth to Y/N.”

I jumped, blinking rapidly, and saw a thoroughly amused Jimin staring at me. We were parked, the truck was off, and his hand was already on the handle. We both laughed but did not say anything else. If Jimin could be late all of the time then I could space out whenever I wanted.

“I’m so ready for these blueberry pancakes,” Jimin threw his arm around my shoulders as we walked. “What are you getting?”

I shrugged, “Hot cocoa and an omelet, probably.”

“An omlet does sound really good,” He mumbled to himself, holding open the door for me.

“That’s why I’m getting one,” I mumbled, pausing at the door to kiss him. “I’m thinking ham and cheese.”

Jimin smiled, caught off guard by the gesture, “Shit, if omelets get me one of those then I’ll eat eggs for the rest of my life.”

I laughed, the sound echoing in the small entrance area. This Denny’s was always busy but I could see a few empty booths in the back. Perfect.

“You think I’m playing,” He continued, wrapping an arm around my waist as he grabbed a hold of the second door. “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I had to.”

I rolled my eyes, “You don’t need to live off eggs to get kisses, you big baby.”

“No,” He chuckled, swooping down and stealing a kiss of his own. “But it sounded really cool.”

The hostess smiled at our little exchange and I fixed her with a deadpan stare.

“Typical.”

She laughed, “Right this way.”

Hobi: Are you excited about the charity event?

Me: Park’s going to kill it

Hobi: Nervous about getting seen?

Me: Not at all. I doubt anyone there will recognize me anyway.

Closing the trunk of my car, I sighed. We were on our way to the charity meet, and Jimin was running a few minutes behind. Fiona needed to go to a shop soon and Jimin was driving her like she was going to explode any second. It was frustrating as I hated being late, but it was impossible to be angry with him. We had planned on leaving the day before the meet and getting a hotel room so we could both be as well rested as possible.

To say I was nervous about sharing a room for the night was an understatement. Jimin had gotten a suite with two beds so I would feel more comfortable (his words, not mine), but the added security of separation did little to calm my racing thoughts. I was not planning on having sex this weekend, Jimin needed to keep his energy for the meet, but I would be lying if I said the thought had not crossed my mind more than once.

“Are you okay?”

Snapping out of my trance, I turned to find the man of the hour stood next to me. There was a large duffle bag around his shoulders, and his oversized hoodie only made him look even smaller. Smiling, he kissed my cheek in greeting.

“Fine,” I breathed, smiling back. “Almost ready?”

Jimin nodded, “Just need to put this bag in the back. You didn’t forget any of your meds, right?”

He had been spending most of his time at my house recently and was well acquainted with my large pill collection. At first he had been concerned as to why I turned down taking medication for my illness back on Monday, but stopped questioning it so much when I told him about the other four pills I take daily. I always avoided taking extra stuff if I could.

“They’re in my suitcase.”

We were going to be in Allendale until Sunday. The meet was on Saturday, and while it was only a little over 2 hours away, I was positive Jimin was going to be exhausted after we were finished. This was an event super close to his heart and he had told me how nervous he felt about attending. Spending two nights seemed like a simple solution to deal with both of our anxieties, and even more so when I brought up my fears of being recognized and harassed. Jimin turned red with anger when I told him about my previous experiences with the news and promised he would never let that happen to me again.

“I guess we should stop by my mom’s house on the way out,” He mused. “I know she wanted to come but she’s been really sick.”

Na-Yeon’s avoidance of treatment was finally beginning to take its toll on her physical health. I had hardly seen her at all since I came back from Colorado, and from what Jimin tells me she’s done nothing but throw up and sleep. James had told me that she was trying to stay alive long enough to see Jimin win an Olympic medal, but he wasn’t sure if that was going to be possible. I was hoping to speak with her myself and see if there was any way I could convince her to start her chemo back up again. It was killing Jimin to see his mother this way.

“I was thinking,” I handed my keys over to Jimin. “Maybe your mom and I could have a little girl’s day when we get back.”

“Why?” He chuckled,

I shrugged. Trying to come off as nonchalant was better than honesty. I was not sure how Jimin would take my intrusion, but I still wanted to try it anyway. I loved Na-Yeon, and hoped that I could talk her out of her decision. There had been a time when I would have let myself die, too, but I was fortunate enough to have Andy fighting for me. I probably would have never walked again had it not been for her and Hoseok.

“Just want to be closer to her,” It was not a lie. I was dating her son and I wanted us to be like mother and daughter the same way I had been with Namjoon’s family. “She’s been looking a little down lately. Maybe getting out of the house a little might cheer her up.”

Jimin grinned at me, his expression soft. Leaning forward, he kissed my forehead. My chest warmed. He was always touching me as though I was made of glass.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” He asked.

“Once or twice,” I replied, a giggling bubbling up my throat. “We should get going. Traffic is going to start piling up soon.”

Piling into the car, I relaxed into the passenger seat and took a hold of Jimin’s hand. He chuckled, pulled away to put the car into drive, and placed his hand on my thigh. I could feel a light layer of sweat on his palms. I put my hand on top of his.

“Are you sure you’re okay driving?” I asked him, tightening my grip.

“Yeah, angel,” He replied, smiling over at me. “I’m good. I like driving.”

“Still,” I argued, “You’re going to be swimming all day tomorrow. I feel bad making you drive, too.”

“Don’t,” He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. His eyes never left the road. “I’m happy you’re here with me. All that other shit is just details.”

That shut me up. We drove in silence for the few minutes that it took to get to his parent’s house. I decided to stay in the car while he went to say goodbye. Jimin deserved some alone time with his folks, and I had sent a text to his mother this morning promising to send her a video of him swimming. All she cared about was making sure she could have a phone call with him when everything was over with. Na-Yeon missed watching him swim more than anything and it broke her heart that she was too ill to come with us today.

James waved at me from the front door and I returned the gesture with a huge smile. He had been so excited to see me after finding out about Jimin and I. James was extremely supportive and had already started to call me his daughter. I had yet to return the favor, but secretly loved it. Jimin would get so embarrassed, he’d turn red and scold his dad in Korean. Na-Yeon would watch them silently, but send me a smile and a wink when she thought no one was looking. Wedding bells were already sounding off in their heads.

I thought it would bother me more than it did. Instead, I felt calmed by their excitement. I had been really worried about the age gap between the two of us, but having our family and friends be so accepting had taken that weight off of my shoulders.

Ne-Yeon’s little head poked out from behind her husband’s shoulder. She looked worn and had bags under her eyes, but her smile was just as big and beautiful as it always had been. Touched that she had thought to come and greet me, I got out of the car.

“What are you doing out of bed?” I teased, wrapping my arms around the frail woman.

She returned my hug with full force. It was concerning that her squeezes felt feather light. I hoped she was eating enough.

“Bodybuilding,” She joked, her voice lacking the usual spunk it carried. When I went to let go, she held me tighter. “Take care of him.”

I nodded, “I will.”

Jimin and I left a few minutes later. Na-Yeon was hanging off of him for as long as she could, her little arm wrapped around his waist as the four of us stood in their doorway. James and I never made physical contact, but Jimin always swore his dad preferred me to him. The older man was always smiling at me, his eyes sparkling brightly, and his mouth moving so quickly at times it was difficult to understand what he was saying. Today was one of those days and I struggled to pay attention to anything else.

“Dad,” Jimin interrupted Jame’s latest fishing story. “We have to go.”

James deflated.

“When you come back?” He asked me.

“Sunday,” I replied. “We should be back for dinner.”

He smiled again, “I make daegusal-jorim for you. It’s spicy.”

I grinned. If I remember right, that was some sort of cod dish. James was always making some type of seafood since he was fishing constantly. Na-Yeon often complained about never eating any other meat. Jimin and I were always happy to indulge ourselves in his father’s cooking.

“I’m cooking,” Ne-Yeon said.

I looked at her, “Really?”

The last time I had eaten her food was Jimin’s birthday back in October. She made a huge pot of kimchi stew since it was her son’s favorite, and I remembered it being delicious. Sometimes Jimin would talk about all of his favorite foods he grew up eating, and 9 times out of 10 it would be something his mother had made him. Apparently, according to Jimin, his father could only cook fish. Na-Yeon, however, could make magic out of nothing.

“Yes,” She insisted. “Need to celebrate my baby.”

Jimin flushed, his mother’s fingers pinching at his fat cheeks. “Mom.”

“I’ll try to get us back early enough to help you out,” I offered, checking my watch. “We really do need to go, though. Trying to beat the traffic.”

With a few hugs and a couple of kisses on the cheek, Jimin and I left. I had finally grown used to Jimin playing the radio while he drove, and I enjoyed watching him as he sang along. Catching my eye, Jimin grinned widely and serenaded me. He had a pretty voice, soft and sweet, and I felt my heart jump into my throat.

It was shocking just how comfortable I was in this car with him. Instead of staring out the window, watching the roads like a hawk, I was laughing and enjoying his presence. With the radio blasting, I opened my mouth and sang back. Jimin’s eyes widening, his voice growing more confident as he took my hand in his.

“With a taste of your lips I’m on a ride,” He giggled, squeezing my fingers.

“You're toxic,” I wiggled my eyebrows. “I’m slippin’ under.”

“With a taste of a poison paradise,” I leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “I’m addicted to you. Don’t you know that you’re toxic?”

Satisfied with myself, I leaned back in my seat and watched him sing. My actions only emboldened his own, and soon Jimin was singing his heart out in the driver's seat. His hand on my thigh moved closer and closer to my core only to slide back down when he realized what he was doing. Each time I laughed it off, but inside I was yearning for him to do more. Not in the car, I might have a real panic attack then, but possibly when we were in the safety of our hotel room.

The drive was quicker than normal. We had beaten the traffic by an hour and our impromptu karaoke session in the car made the time fly. The sun was just beginning to set as we pulled up at the hotel and Jimin was practically skipping inside. Making him happy was something I took great pride in, and my little performance in the car had made him radiant.

My chest puffed out when I caught the front desk receptionist eyed him hungrily. Her pretty eyes were unable to stop staring at the beautiful boy beside me. Hand in hand, we took our key card and made our way to the elevator.

When the doors shut, Jimin pulled me into his arms. I sighed in relief. He smelled so good, his chest warm and hard, and I could smell the faint hint of his after shave. It didn’t matter if we won or lost this event. Nothing was going to destroy the high I was on.

“I’m nervous,” Jimin mumbled, letting me go when the elevator dinged. “I know a few of the guys I’ll be swimming with tomorrow. They’re all really good.”

I nodded, “You’re better.”

“How do you know that?” I had never heard him sound so unsure of himself before. “I haven’t been competing like I normally do this season.”

“Because you’re Jimin Park,” I replied easily, the confidence in my tone unmistakable. “And I’m Y/N Y/L/N. We’ve both put in a lot of work and time into this, and you’re going to be great.”

“But-”

I shushed him. Taking the keycard from his hand, I swiped the card through the reader and opened the door. Behind me, Jimin breathed through his nose. It was a loud, defeated sound. Stepping into the room, I gestured for Jimin to walk inside and closed the door behind us.

It was a standard hotel room. A large queen sized bed was in the middle, a small love seat beside it, and a mini fridge beside the large flat screen hanging on the wall. The air was stale, like no one had been in here in a while, and I could faintly see fading stains on some kind in the dark carpet. I bit my lip. Maybe I should have gotten the nicer place Taehyung had suggested.

“5 Stars?” Jimin dead-panned, the little smirk on his face telling me he was joking.

I sauntered closer to him, hands resting on his chest, “Of course. Only the best for an Olympian.”

He sighed, wrapping his arms around my waist, “Thank you angel.”

Still feeling high off of his presence, I kissed his cheek.

“I was talking about me.”

“Yeah?” He mumbled, lips brushing my own. “You think you’re funny?”

I nodded, dazed, “Hilarious.”

“Ass,” He breathed, before finally kissing me properly. “Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” Another kiss. Then another. Then another. “It’s distracting.”

“What should we do about that?” I choked out, chasing after his retreating face. “Where are you going?”

He giggled cheekily, eyes glittering mischievously.

“We need to eat, don’t we?”

I rolled my eyes and huffed, grabbing the back of his neck with my hand. “Fuck the food.”

He pulled away again, his face far more serious now. All of the playful lust flowing through my vein was stopped dead in its tracks leaving a chill in its wake. Fearful I had been too forward, I immediately took a step back and shied away from him like I had been burned. Jimin noticed this and shook his head, reaching out to grab my hand. I let him.

“I want to,” He told me. “I’m just not ready for that yet, and I think you deserve better than some nasty motel in Allendale.”

I nodded, my understanding of his fears doing little to dull the sting of his rejection. I knew it was not a real rejection, he had just asked for more time, but my heart ached with the memory of him moving away from me. It made me feel disgusted. Still, I forced a smile onto my face and nodded. I hoped he could tell I was okay with his request. It was only the hurt feelings that made me want to run away and hide.

“I get it,” Even I could hear the sickeningly-sweet edge my voice had taken on and hated it. I was so bad at this shit. “We can take our time. Whatever you want.”

Jimin frowned but chose not to say anything. Pulling back from him, I wandered to the tv and picked up the remote. A home renovation show was on and I knew I would not be paying enough attention to the tv to care how awful the acting was.

“What’s for lunch?” I asked absentmindedly, trying to come across more relaxed than I felt. “I saw a pizza place on the way in if you’re feeling it.”

Silence.

“Maybe something less greasy,” I mused, already feeling myself growing panicked. “Milo said there’s a really good Italian place not too far from here-”

“Baby.”

I stopped talking and looked at the pretty boy standing across the room. He looked so sad and it broke my heart. I hated it when he didn't smile. I hated it even more when it was my fault.

“Talk to me,” He urged, coming to stand beside me. He made no moves to touch me for which I was grateful. “I know you’re upset about something.”

I shrugged, “I take rejection about as well as anybody else, and I don’t want you to feel bad about it so I’m moving on. I know we’re both hungry so I’m trying to figure out food. I’m sorry if I’m being weird again.”

He nodded, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

I reached out to hug him. Jimin was happy to take me into his arms. I loved how safe and secure I felt in his presence. I was slightly taller than he was, my body made for swimming, but he never seemed to mind. Leaning down, I tucked my head underneath his chin and closed my eyes. Breathe, I told myself.

“You didn’t mean to,” I replied. “I’m sorry if I made you feel pressured or rushed into anything.”

He chuckled, “I want to have sex with you. Just not right now. Not tonight.”

I closed my eyes, “Later?”

That made him laugh. I grinned in response. My foul mood left with a kiss to the top of my head. We were fine. There was no reason to get insecure. We were fine. Jimin liked me. I liked him. That’s all that matters.

I adjusted myself and leaned my head on his. Jimin buried his face into my neck and left a few gentle kisses on the sensitive skin. I whined in response, curling into him. Jimin groaned, the sound strained. I felt it in my core.

“Definitely,” He rasped, giving my neck another kiss. “We need to stop before I change my mind.”

I giggled, pulling away from him. If he wanted space and time then I would give that to him, even if it meant making the both of us a little uncomfortable for the next two days. With the awkward moment behind us, we started planning out dinner and I was confident in our chances at winning tomorrow. Even though it was a charity event, we were both excited about the donation money going to the hospital where his mother received treatment. Jimin especially.

After our late lunch (we decided on pizza), we came back to the hotel. I was adamant that Jimin take the day off from swimming to preserve his energy for tomorrow. His old coach (asshole) had always forced him to swim at every possible moment, and would become angry and condescending when Jimin asked for time off. I swore the next time I saw Hamilton I’d give him a piece of my mind, but knew that I would ultimately leave him be. The guy was a slimeball and didn’t deserve my time and energy.

Crawling into bed that night, we talked for a few hours while a crime tv show played. Jimin enjoyed pillowtalk and I just enjoyed his company too much to tell him to stop talking. Once it was around ten, his eyes closed in the middle of a sentence and light snores followed soon after. That was another thing he was good at- falling asleep wherever and whenever.

I got out of bed a few minutes later, my mind too busy to go to sleep. As quietly as I could, I walked out of the hotel room. Jimin did not move an inch.

Hoseok picked up after the third ring.

“Do you know what time it is?” He answered, fake anger in his voice.

“Yeah, 10,” I rolled my eyes. ��Way before your bedtime. Are you free?”

Hoseok hummed, “Yeah. What’s up?”

I groaned, embarrassment creeping up my spine. I would have preferred to talk to Andy about this, but I knew she was working tonight and would not be free. Tilly was an absolute no go, and I did not feel comfortable enough with anybody in Saline to call them this late to talk about my dry sex life. They were all Jimin’s friends first anyway.

“Jimin says he’s not ready for sex and I’m trying not to overthink it. I need your advice, oh wise one.”

Hoseok laughed, “Dude, I can’t help you. My girl is the same way.”

Shocked, I tried to remember if I had ever heard about this mystery girl before. Then, it hit me. Andy had mentioned something about a blonde girl. She must be serious for Hoseok to casually bring her up in conversation. I wonder how long he’d been hiding her from the rest of us.

“Your girl, huh? And who might that be?”

Hoseok sighed, “I know it sounds crazy, but she’s a swimmer.”

Racking my brain, I tried to think of every blonde swimmer I knew of. MacKenzie Boyd was way too young, Rhonda Yara lived in Florida most of the year, and Brittney Powell was just not Hoseok’s type. That left Opal Simmons and Tove Alfson. They both lived in Colorado, both were fantastic swimmers, and both seemed like nice girls. Opal was the older of the two, so I was more inclined to believe that was who he was talking about, but this was all under the assumption that the girl was a professional swimmer.

“Do you remember Opal Simmons?”

I snorted. So I was right. Feeling good about myself, I nodded and told him that I did. She was pretty, but I remembered thinking she was unremarkable. She had been doing extremely well this season and swimming more than she ever had before. I had a good feeling about her run at this year’s Olympics. She had always swam in teams and this was her first time doing a solo season.

“How’d you meet her?” I asked, leaning against the metal railing across from the door.

“I went to go see Ozzie and she stopped by to talk to him for a few minutes. She took one look at me, smiled, and gave me her number. And you know I’m a sucker for a confident woman.”

“So you took her to the most expensive bar in Colorado Springs?” I joked.

Hoseok spluttered, “How’d you know about that?”

“Well international super spy,” I teased, “You blew your cover. Jin saw you and told Andy. Andy told me. I didn’t tell anybody.”

The swimmer groaned and I could not help but laugh at his expense. We were always like this. Teasing and joking around with one another. A few tender moments sprinkled in between. I remembered when people thought we were a couple simply because we were friends of the opposite sex, but I had never felt anything but sisterly love for the guy. We were always there for each other through thick and thin, and right now I was grateful for his crude sense of humor. Hoseok rarely took things seriously and I needed a bit of fun. It made my anxiety feel less scary.

“We had fun,” He defended. “She’s fucking awesome, man. You’re really going to like her. Next time you’re in town, bring your boy so we can go on a double date.”

“Will do.”

We had a momentary pause. That meant Hoseok was thinking. He tried to choose his words carefully when he was being serious, so I knew that meant we were going to actually start talking about the reason I called. He was far more easy going than I was, so I was sure Opal’s timidness did not bother him at all. I was the spaz of the group only being outdone by Andrea.

“Did he say why?” Hoseok finally asked.

I told him about what had happened this afternoon and the small moments before. The way he always stopped things before they could get any further. How kissing him sometimes felt like he was saying goodbye. How genuinely upset he was by my reaction to his constant pausing. Hoseok listened to everything before saying another word.

“Maybe he’s had something happen to him in the past,” Hoseok brought up. That was something I had not really considered before. “He just sounds a little scared and nervous. Not unwilling, just hesitant. You should talk to him about it. I mean really talk to him. That’s what I did with Opal and it made going at her pace seem less daunting.”

“So you don’t think I’m doing anything wrong?” I finally asked, voicing my fears from earlier. I could not tell Jimin that’s what I was afraid of, it felt too childish, but Hoseok was used to my ever present anxieties. “I really didn’t mean to invalidate him.”

Hoseok chuckled, “I think you’re doing just fine, babe. You just need to learn how to relax and let shit happen. He likes you. He told you he wants to have sex with you directly. Don’t let yourself ruin this, okay?”

I nodded, feeling a frog forming in my throat. It felt wrong to cry right now, but it was the most therapeutic way to handle how frustrated I was with myself. I was too old to act like this. Too strong and independent. This really should not hurt me the way that it does, and yet I could feel myself closing off again.

The door behind me opened and I startled, almost dropping my phone. Whipping around I saw Jimin standing there, no shirt and a pair of sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips. Dark hair a wild mess, he rubbed his eyes and tried his best to look more awake than he felt. My heart melted, some of the stress I felt moments before lessening. He was here. We were fine. I was just being overdramatic. I just needed to breathe.

“I have to get some sleep,” I told Hoseok, eyes never leaving Jimin’s body. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Talk to you then,” I hung up.

Jimin’s eyes searched my face and I could feel a few escaped tears on my cheeks. I felt small under his watchful gaze, but the gentleness in his eyes never wavered. I stood there stupidly, unable to move.

“Come back to bed,” His voice was soft. “I miss you.”

And because he made me behave like a good little lap dog, I crawled into that bed without protest. Pulling me into his arms, Jimin held me close and tight. I relaxed and let his body heat warm me up. I had not realized how cold I had gotten and shivered. Jimin kissed my nose and got comfortable.

“Don’t leave me,” He rasped, already falling back asleep. “Please?”

I almost cried again. He sounded so lost and defeated. Maybe Hoseok was right. Maybe something happened to him that made sex feel terrifying. What it could be I had no idea, but I hoped that with time he could help me understand. As desperately I wanted him to know me- I wanted to know him.

“I promise I won’t,” I whispered, kissing his chest.

His arms squeezed me gently before there was nothing but snores and the sound of the A/C in the room.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

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cool-fancier · 1 month

Text

Frozen Flame

Synopsis: A college student's long-held crush on Jisoo culminates in a passionate encounter, igniting a fiery romance that awakens deep desires and intimate connections.

Word count:4.2K

This was requested and if any of you guys do have requests of the girls , please do let me know and I promise I will try my best.

The campus was alive with its usual energy—a mix of laughter, conversations, and the sounds of footsteps echoing off the pavement. You were sitting on a bench near the art building, your sketchpad open in your lap, though your pencil had long since stilled. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the lawn, bathing everything in a warm, golden light, but your thoughts were elsewhere.

It had been another typical day, filled with classes and the usual interactions, but it was hard to ignore the ever-present undercurrent of tension that seemed to linger in the air whenever she was around. Jisoo. The raven-haired beauty who had a way of commanding attention without ever asking for it, who moved through life with a cool, collected demeanor that made her seem untouchable.

You had admired her from afar for a long time now—admired, and maybe even something more. But getting close to Jisoo was like trying to get close to a glacier; she was distant, impenetrable, and just when you thought you might be getting somewhere, she would retreat into herself, leaving you questioning everything. Even though you shared some classes and had mutual friends, Jisoo had always kept you at a distance, her interactions with you minimal, almost perfunctory.

— — — — —

Your best friend, Lisa, often teased you about your "cold crush," as she called it, though she knew better than anyone how much it affected you. Lisa was the opposite of Jisoo in every way—bright, bubbly, and always full of energy. The two of you had been inseparable since your first year at university, and she was one of the few people who knew about your feelings for Jisoo.

Today, Lisa had dragged you to a campus event, a small exhibition featuring the work of local artists. It wasn't really your thing, but Lisa was enthusiastic, and you never could say no to her. Now, as you sat waiting for Lisa to return from a snack run, your mind wandered back to the one person you couldn't stop thinking about.

You hadn't seen Jisoo at the exhibition, but that wasn't surprising. She didn't attend many social events, preferring to keep to herself or hang out with her close-knit group of friends—Jennie and Rosé. The three of them were practically inseparable, and you often caught glimpses of them together, laughing at some inside joke or deep in conversation. Jennie was the more outgoing of the trio, with a sharp wit and a playful demeanor that contrasted with Jisoo's reserved nature. Rosé was warm and kind, with a soft-spoken charm that drew people in. They were as close as sisters, and you couldn't help but envy the ease with which they interacted with Jisoo.

You sighed, staring down at your sketchpad. You had tried to draw, to distract yourself from your thoughts, but the blank page was a testament to your inability to focus. It was always like this when Jisoo was on your mind—an endless loop of what-ifs and maybes that left you feeling more confused than ever.

"Hey, Y/N! I got us some snacks!"

Lisa's cheerful voice broke through your reverie, and you looked up to see her bounding toward you, a bag of chips in one hand and a couple of drinks in the other. She flashed you a bright smile as she plopped down on the bench beside you, handing you one of the drinks.

"Thanks," you said, offering her a small smile in return.

Lisa took a sip of her drink before nudging you with her elbow. "You look like you're a million miles away. Thinking about a certain someone, perhaps?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "Am I that obvious?"

"Only to someone who knows you as well as I do," Lisa said with a grin. "Come on, spill. Did you see her today?"

You shook your head, your smile fading slightly. "No. I haven't seen her since yesterday."

Lisa frowned, concern flickering in her eyes. "Y/N, you've got to stop torturing yourself like this. I know you like her, but if she's not making any moves..."

"I know," you cut in, not wanting to hear the rest. Lisa was right, of course. Jisoo wasn't making any moves, and yet, you couldn't seem to let go. "It's just... complicated."

"It doesn't have to be," Lisa said softly, her tone more serious now. "You deserve someone who's going to be there for you, someone who won't keep you guessing."

You nodded, though deep down, you knew it wasn't that simple. Jisoo might have been distant, but there were moments—brief, fleeting moments—when you thought you saw something in her eyes, something that made you believe she felt the same way. But those moments were rare, and they left you more confused than ever.

"Anyway," Lisa said, clearly sensing that you didn't want to dwell on the subject, "let's focus on something else. How about we check out the rest of the exhibition? I heard there's some really cool stuff in the next room."

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Sure, let's go."

— — — — —

The two of you stood up, and as you made your way through the exhibition, you did your best to push thoughts of Jisoo out of your mind. But it wasn't easy, especially when you knew that at any moment, you could turn a corner and see her with Jennie and Rosé, laughing and talking as if the world outside their little trio didn't exist.

The evening passed in a blur of art and conversation, and by the time you and Lisa left the exhibition, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the campus bathed in twilight. As you walked back to your dorm, you felt a little lighter, the weight of your earlier thoughts easing somewhat.

"Thanks for dragging me out tonight," you said to Lisa as you reached your building. "I needed that."

"Anytime," Lisa said with a smile. "Just remember, I'm here for you, okay? No matter what happens with Jisoo, you've got me."

You smiled, touched by her words. "I know. Thanks, Lisa."

As you made your way up to your room, you couldn't help but wonder what Jisoo was doing right now. Was she with Jennie and Rosé, laughing and talking, or was she alone in her room, lost in her own thoughts? The thought of her alone made your heart ache, but you quickly pushed it aside. Jisoo had chosen to keep her distance, and you had to respect that, no matter how much it hurt.

— — — — —

The next day was a blur of classes and assignments, and you tried to keep your focus on your work. But as the day wore on, you found yourself thinking about Jisoo again. It was like a compulsion, this need to see her, to be near her, even if she barely acknowledged your presence.

It was late afternoon when you finally saw her. You were sitting outside the library, going over some notes, when you caught sight of Jisoo walking across the courtyard with Jennie and Rosé. They were deep in conversation, and Jisoo's expression was as unreadable as ever. She didn't notice you, or if she did, she gave no indication.

You watched them for a moment, your heart sinking as you took in the easy camaraderie between the three of them. Jennie was talking animatedly, her hands gesturing as she spoke, while Rosé laughed at something Jennie said. Jisoo was more reserved, but there was a small smile on her lips, one that made your chest tighten.

Just as you were about to look away, Jennie said something that made Jisoo glance in your direction. For a split second, your eyes met, and in that brief moment, you saw something in her gaze—something dark, something intense. But before you could even process it, Jisoo looked away, her expression unreadable once more.

You sighed, your heart heavy as you watched them walk away. You couldn't keep doing this to yourself, couldn't keep hoping for something that might never happen. But even as you told yourself this, you knew you were lying. You weren't ready to give up on Jisoo, not yet.

— — — — —

Later that evening, you were in your dorm room, trying to finish an assignment, when your phone buzzed with a message. You glanced at the screen, your heart skipping a beat when you saw Lisa's name.

LalaLisa: Hey, wanna grab a late-night snack? I'm starving!

You smiled, grateful for the distraction.

You: Sure, meet you at the usual spot?

LalaLisa: Yep! Be there in 10.

You quickly gathered your things and headed out, the cool night air refreshing as you made your way to the café where you and Lisa often met. It was a small, cozy place, open late to cater to the night owls on campus, and it had become a favorite spot of yours.

When you arrived, Lisa was already there, sitting at a table near the window. She waved at you as you entered, and you quickly joined her, sliding into the seat across from her.

"How's it going?" Lisa asked, flashing you a bright smile as she pushed a menu across the table.

You returned the smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes. "It's been a day," you said with a sigh. "I'm trying to get this assignment done, but my mind is all over the place."

Lisa gave you a knowing look, her expression softening. "Still thinking about her?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say more. Lisa didn't press, instead changing the subject to something light and trivial as you both ordered some snacks. The café was quiet, with only a few other students scattered around, their voices a low murmur in the background. It was the kind of atmosphere that usually helped you relax, but tonight, it felt like something was pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe.

As you sat there, stirring your drink absentmindedly, the door to the café opened, and you glanced up out of habit. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw who had just walked in. Jisoo, Jennie, and Rosé. Of course, they would be here—it was one of the few places on campus that was still open late.

The three of them were laughing about something, Jennie nudging Jisoo playfully while Rosé tried to shush them, clearly aware of the quiet atmosphere in the café. They hadn't noticed you yet, but you felt your heart rate quicken as they approached the counter to order.

Lisa followed your gaze, her eyes widening slightly when she saw who it was. "Oh boy," she muttered, glancing back at you. "You okay?"

You forced a nod, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, I'm fine."

But you weren't fine. You were anything but fine. The mere sight of Jisoo, so close yet so far, was enough to send your emotions spiraling. You wanted to look away, to focus on anything else, but your eyes were glued to her, to the way she leaned against the counter, her posture relaxed yet somehow distant, as if she was there but not really present.

Just as you were about to tear your gaze away, Jennie's eyes flicked in your direction, and she nudged Jisoo with her elbow. Jisoo looked up, following Jennie's gaze, and her eyes landed on you. For a moment, everything else faded away—the low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, even the presence of Lisa beside you. It was just you and Jisoo, locked in a gaze that felt like it could burn right through you.

There was something in Jisoo's eyes, something dark and unreadable. It wasn't the first time you had seen that look, but it was the first time you felt like it might actually mean something. For a split second, you thought she might come over, might say something, anything, but instead, she looked away, her expression closing off as quickly as it had opened.

You felt a pang of disappointment, but it was quickly overshadowed by the flutter of nerves in your stomach. You hadn't expected her to come over, hadn't expected anything, really, but it still hurt. And yet, as much as it hurt, it also made you wonder—what was holding her back? What was she so afraid of?

Jennie and Rosé seemed oblivious to the tension, chatting away as they grabbed their drinks and headed to a table on the other side of the café. Jisoo followed, her movements almost mechanical, as if she were just going through the motions. You watched her go, your heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

Lisa's voice broke through your thoughts. "That was... intense," she said quietly, her eyes searching your face for any sign of how you were feeling.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "Yeah," you murmured. "I don't know what to do, Lisa. I just... I don't know."

Lisa reached across the table, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Maybe it's time to make a move," she suggested gently. "I know it's scary, but if you don't, you're just going to keep torturing yourself like this. You deserve to know where you stand."

You knew she was right, but the thought of confronting Jisoo, of laying your feelings bare, terrified you. What if she didn't feel the same way? What if she did, but couldn't admit it? There were too many variables, too many unknowns, and it was enough to make your head spin.

But as you sat there, your eyes drifting back to where Jisoo was sitting with Jennie and Rosé, laughing at something Jennie said, you realized that you couldn't keep living in this limbo. You had to do something, anything, to break the cycle.

"I'll think about it," you said finally, meeting Lisa's gaze. "But not tonight. I just... I need to clear my head."

Lisa nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Of course. No pressure. Just remember, whatever happens, I've got your back."

You smiled, grateful for her support. "Thanks, Lisa. I don't know what I'd do without you."

The two of you stayed for a while longer, the conversation light and easy, though your mind kept drifting back to Jisoo. As you finally got up to leave, you couldn't resist one last glance in her direction. She was watching you, her eyes following your every move, and for a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in her gaze—something like longing, or maybe even regret. But before you could fully process it, she looked away, her expression unreadable once more.

— — — — —

The next few days passed in a blur. You threw yourself into your studies, trying to keep busy, trying to ignore the nagging thoughts of Jisoo that refused to leave you alone. But it was no use. She was always there, in the back of your mind, a constant, inescapable presence.

Lisa noticed, of course. She always did. But she didn't push, didn't ask questions, just offered her quiet support in the way only she could. It helped, but only a little. Because no matter what you did, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming, something you couldn't avoid.

It was late one evening when everything finally came to a head. You were in the library, trying to finish an essay that was due the next day, when you heard someone approaching. You looked up, expecting to see Lisa or maybe one of your classmates, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw who it was.

Jisoo.

She was standing at the end of your table, her expression unreadable, her dark eyes locked on yours. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the air between you thick with tension. Then, slowly, she moved closer, her steps deliberate, almost hesitant, as if she wasn't sure what she was doing.

"Y/N," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest. "Jisoo," you replied, your voice shaking slightly.

She didn't say anything for a long moment, just stood there, her gaze never leaving yours. Then, finally, she took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say.

"I... I need to talk to you," she said, her voice tight with something you couldn't quite place.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Your mind was racing, a thousand thoughts swirling in your head, but none of them made any sense. All you knew was that this moment, whatever it was, felt important.

Jisoo hesitated, glancing around the library as if to make sure no one else was around. Then, in a voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, she said, "Can we go somewhere private?"

You blinked, caught off guard by her request. "Sure," you said after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper. "Where?"

She glanced at the door, her expression unreadable. "There's a study room upstairs. No one uses it this late."

You nodded, gathering your things and following her out of the library. Your heart was pounding, your thoughts a jumbled mess as you tried to figure out what was happening. Was this it? Was this the moment you had been waiting for? Or was it something else entirely, something you couldn't predict?

Jisoo led you up the stairs and down a quiet hallway, stopping in front of a small, unmarked door. She pushed it open, revealing a simple study room with a table and a few chairs. The walls were lined with bookshelves, the space lit by a single overhead light. It was quiet, almost too quiet, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as you stepped inside.

Jisoo closed the door behind you, her movements slow, almost hesitant. Then she turned to face you, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

— — — — —

The air in the small study room felt thick with anticipation as you and Jisoo stood there, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. Her tentative nod, though subtle, was enough to set your heart racing. It was the first real crack in the icy exterior she'd always presented, a glimpse into the feelings she'd kept hidden for so long.

You took a slow, deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you looked into her eyes. "Jisoo," you began, your voice soft but unwavering, "I've wanted to say something to you for a while now... but I never knew if I should. I didn't know if you felt the same way, or if I was just imagining things."

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable, but she didn't look away. That was all the encouragement you needed to continue.

"I like you, Jisoo. More than just... a friend or a classmate. I've liked you for so long, but you've always been so distant, so hard to reach. I kept telling myself that maybe I was wrong, that maybe you didn't feel the same way, but... I couldn't shake this feeling that there was something between us. Something real."

Jisoo's lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Her gaze held yours, and you could see the turmoil in her eyes, the battle between her fear and the emotions she'd been suppressing for so long.

You took a small, tentative step closer, closing some of the distance between you. "I don't want to push you," you said gently, "but I need to know. Is there a chance you feel the same way?"

For a long moment, Jisoo was silent, her gaze dropping to the floor as if she couldn't bear to look at you. Then, slowly, she took a shaky breath and whispered, "I do."

The words were barely audible, but they hit you like a wave, washing over you with a mix of relief and something deeper, something electric. She looked up at you again, her eyes filled with a raw vulnerability that took your breath away.

"I've felt this way for a long time," Jisoo admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "But I didn't know how to handle it. I didn't know how to be around you without... without feeling like I was losing control."

You stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her body, the slight tremble in her hands as she kept them at her sides. "You don't have to be afraid," you murmured, your heart aching at the sight of her so vulnerable, so open in a way she'd never been before. "I'm here, Jisoo. I want this, too."

She swallowed hard, her eyes searching yours as if trying to find the reassurance she needed. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she reached out, her fingers brushing against yours. The touch was light, tentative, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, setting your nerves alight.

"I don't want to mess this up," Jisoo whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

"You won't," you promised, intertwining your fingers with hers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "We can take this at whatever pace you're comfortable with. I'm not going anywhere."

She looked at you then, really looked at you, and you could see the fear slowly melting away, replaced by something warmer, something more certain. Jisoo took a step closer, and then another, until there was barely any space left between you. Her free hand came up to cup your cheek, her touch gentle, almost reverent.

"Y/N," she breathed, her eyes dark with emotion. "I want this, too. I want you."

That was all it took for the dam to break. The next moment, your lips were on hers, capturing her in a kiss that was soft and tentative at first, but quickly deepened as the pent-up emotions between you spilled over. Jisoo's hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as she kissed you with a hunger that matched your own.

You could feel her trembling slightly, the mix of desire and nervousness evident in every touch, every breath. Your hands found their way to her waist, pulling her flush against you as the kiss grew more intense, more heated. Jisoo let out a soft, almost desperate sound against your lips, and it was all the encouragement you needed to take things further.

Without breaking the kiss, you guided her backward until she was pressed up against the wall, your body crowding hers as you deepened the kiss. Jisoo's hands were in your hair now, her fingers threading through the strands as she held you close, as if afraid you might pull away.

But you had no intention of pulling away. You wanted this just as much as she did, and you were determined to show her just how much.

Your lips trailed from hers to her jaw, then down to the delicate curve of her neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against her skin. Jisoo's breath hitched, her head tilting back to give you better access, and you could feel her pulse quicken under your lips.

As your lips brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck, Jisoo let out a soft sigh, her hands tightening in your hair as if anchoring herself to the moment. You paused, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze once more. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes half-lidded, but there was a warmth in her expression that made your heart swell.

"Are you okay?" you asked gently, your voice barely a whisper.

Jisoo nodded, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. "More than okay," she murmured, her voice tender, filled with a newfound confidence.

You smiled back, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The two of you stood there, wrapped in each other's warmth, the intensity of the moment settling into something softer, more intimate. You could feel her heart beating in sync with yours, a rhythm that spoke of possibilities yet to be explored.

"I'm glad we're finally here," you said, your thumb lightly tracing her cheek.

"Me too," she replied, her voice tinged with a sweet sincerity. "I was so scared, but now... it feels right. It feels like it was always supposed to be this way."

With a gentle squeeze of her hand, you stepped back, giving her the space to breathe, to process everything that had just unfolded. Jisoo took a deep breath, her eyes still locked on yours, and for the first time, there was no hesitation, no lingering doubt. Just the promise of something beautiful.

"Let's take it slow," you suggested, your voice calm and steady. "We have all the time in the world, and I want to enjoy every moment with you."

Jisoo's smile widened, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she nodded in agreement. "I'd like that," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "No rush, just... us."

The two of you shared another tender kiss, this one unhurried, savoring the sweetness of the moment. When you finally pulled away, it was with a sense of contentment, knowing that this was just the beginning of something wonderful.

Hand in hand, you walked out of the room together, ready to embrace whatever the future had in store, knowing that as long as you had each other, everything would be just fine.

#blackpink x reader #blackpink #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink x fem #blackpink x you #blackpink fanfiction #blackpink x fem reader #blackpink jisoo #kim jisoo x fem #kim jisoo x reader #jisoo x reader

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its-vannah · 2 years

Text

Rojas | Warren Rojas x Reader

A/N: This is TV storyline, not book storyline.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs and alcohol

Eddie: As much as we'd all like to think that Warren was this laid-back, freespirit, there's a part of him that had been broken and taped back together so many times that he never really showed anybody. He just hid it with drugs.

Graham: It really hurt him when Y/N stayed back.

Warren: God, I haven't heard that name in years. Y/N? Y/N L/N? 28 Birchwood avenue, Pittsburg, Pennsylvania? Yeah, I remember her.

Graham: He was infatuated with her.

Eddie: He meant everything to her.

Warren: She meant a lot to me. I mean, of course she did, I almost married her.

Camila: Warren made me stand in the bushes by his house with a camcorder in my hand so I could get the proposal on tape. It turned out good, except for the part when he forgot I was there and started making out with her.

Warren: I picked out a ring and everything. The band didn't know this, but I worked odd jobs on the side. One week I was cleaning someone's gutters and the next I was mowing a lawn, another I was dog sitting. It took me months to save up for a decent ring.

Y/N L/N: Of course I remember Warren. He was the first man I ever loved. I still love him.

Warren: She came to every gig we ever played. Every single one. That is, until we left for LA. I asked her to come with me, but she was still in school.

Graham: We were so proud of her for getting into college. We still are, honestly. Look, I'm happy that I pursued music. Nothing will ever change that. But there's something about going to college that just... I don't know, it sounds right.

Warren: She said she'd meet up with me after she graduated. That was another three years away. But I was willing to wait, and so was she. I promised to call every day and visit when I could.

Y/N: Warren knew how to say all of the right things. And it's not like he was lying, he believed what he was saying. He just didn't always follow through, even if he intended to.

Warren: I called her at the same time every day. Four o'clock. Before we had a gig and after she had school.

Y/N: Everything was fine at first. Then he started going a day or two without calling. That was okay, I knew he was busy. But those days turned into four, then six, then a week. The longest it went was two, three weeks without a single call.

Eddie: I answered the phone one time. She called at the same time every day, so I knew who it was. Warren was on his ass, high and drunk. He couldn't make it to the phone.

Y/N: I asked Eddie to tell Warren to call me when he got the chance. That I needed to talk to him.

Warren: I did call the next day, with a bad hangover. I had a lot of explaining to do.

Y/N: I was not happy when I found out how he had been spending his time.

Warren: She wasn't happy when she found out I was getting high and drinking myself to sleep every night.

Y/N: Drugs, alcohol, you name it, he probably did it or tried it. He knew better than to get into another woman's pants. I would've come up there myself.

Warren: Never cheated though. Point for Warren, I never stooped that low.

Y/N: I told him to get his shit together. Just because two people are apart doesn't mean they can make reckless decisions.

Warren: I thought she hated me. I felt like shit. She was the love of my life.

Y/N: I told him that if he didn't watch it, he'd lose himself, the band, and me.

Warren: I cut back on everything after that. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoyed weed. I just did it in moderation. Same with the beer.

Y/N: I was proud of him.

Warren: I finally got to see her again when we started going on tour.

Y/N: He got to see me and a positive pregnancy test.

Warren: Turns out, we weren't as careful as we thought.

Y/N: You would've thought he had won the lottery when I told him.

Warren: Warren Rojas Jr...

Y/N: I chose the name. And it was a girl.

Warren: Emilia Warren Rojas...

Y/N: Emilia Lynn Rojas. Everyone called her Em, except for Graham, Eddie, and Warren. Graham and Eddie called her Emi, and Warren called her Warren. My dumbass of a fiance.

Warren: We went everywhere together. The store, backstage, front row of concerts, up the stairs to Y/N's house. She was my little best friend.

Y/N: It was love at first sight. But by the time I moved to LA, the band had split up.

Warren: I missed the music, but I spent my time on boats. It's where I was happy. With my wife and my daughter.

Y/N: We did get married, eventually. I just kept my last name for business reasons, and for privacy. But I guess that's all out the window now. Marry a hall of Fame inductee and your privacy is a window. You have none.

Warren: Warren Jr loved being the center of attention.

Y/N: Em was her father's daughter, she still is. Took up the drums. Back in the day, it wasn't common to see a woman on the drums. They usually stuck to vocals or the keyboard, sometimes the guitar. But not our Em.

Warren: Our son was born a few years later.

Y/N: I was high on pain killers when Warren named our son Theodore Graham. I had agreed to the names separately, not together. Because I knew what was going to happen.

Warren: My little Teddy Graham. She liked the names, just hated the fact that everyone called him the nickname I picked out. Said it reminded her of the cracker. That was the point, though.

Y/N: "C'mon, hot stuff, I want to honor my friends legacies" my ass. It was for that damn nickname.

Warren: She loves it, she just doesn't admit it.

Y/N: Horrible taste in names, but he's all mine.

Warren: Teddy Graham wound up being just like his mama.

Y/N: He likes to try and make me feel better by saying that Teddy is just like me. But I'm an honest person. Both of them are their father made over. It made vacations fun.

Warren: I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Y/N: He's a good husband, always has been. He's an even better dad.

Theodore "Teddy Graham" Rojas, son of Warren and Y/N Rojas: My parents made me into who I am today. My mom definitely did the disciplining and made sure we stayed in school, while dad was letting us sneak into the kitchen at two in the morning to make cookies.

Y/N: I knew everything they did. Playing guitar at midnight when I was in bed on a school night, baking at two, eating junk while I was away on business trips. I just let it slide. They were kids, they deserved to have fun and let loose. It just blows my mind to think I have one out of the house and another a year away from graduating high school.

Emilia Rojas, daughter of Warren and Y/N Rojas and lead drummer of Shortcircut: I was a daddy's girl growing up, still am. But the older I get, the more I appreciate my mom. I've always loved her, but being in her shoes today, I'm unbelievably grateful for her. We talk almost every day now.

Y/N: I'm proud of Warren and the kids. They pushed the limits. I realize they that were privileged to have a father who was in the industry, but they really did this all on their own. We got them lessons, they put themselves out there. Em is touring right now, and Teddy is at home playing his heart out. I'm telling you, just like their father.

Warren: Em and Teddy both have that fire in them like their mother, something I don't think she realizes. They're a lot more like her than she knows.

Y/N: Oh, to be with a Rojas.

Warren: I'll be kissing the ground she walks on for as long as I live—I'm never letting that one go.

#fanfic #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones and the six fic #daisy jones and the six fanfiction #warren rhodes #warren rojas #warren rhodes x reader #warren rojas x reader #warrenrhodes #warrenrojas #djats #dj&ts #the six #taylor jenkins reid

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thejustknowing · 3 months

Text

Three Word Prompt to Distract my Busy Thoughts...It worked. Genre was Horror with the words, popsicle sticks, lawn and stem.

My grandmother was a profoundly intense woman. A fervent follower of Jesus, she never missed Sunday Mass. Though she had a green thumb, she didn't relish gardening as a hobby. Instead of giving a monetary donation at Mass every Sunday, she brought plants to the houses of anyone on the prayer list or anyone in church she heard needed a little extra kindness in their life. It's strange, or maybe it would be to you, but my grandmother was different from others we sat next to, kneeled next to, then sat again next to, stood next to, shook hands with, and wished peace to. As you've probably figured out, this is a Catholic Mass, a very serious event where most of the smiling and speaking happens when you shake hands. That has always been my favorite part—it felt like a moment to finally smile, talk, and someone wishing me peace always made me feel a bit better inside, though I'd never admit I enjoyed any part of it. But my grandma, she didn’t smile shaking hands; she did it rather reluctantly, almost like she was a mix of angry and frustrated with her faith, or maybe with God, most likely due to her forced devotion to it. It was written all over her face, at least I think it was. I was nine, then ten, then eleven; I didn’t learn about human emotions until later—that's another story.

Sometimes, I would imagine that she was really a spy for the devil and not a devout Catholic at all. It kept my mind busy during the boring sermon, and I swear her expressions fit the part just right. But all that changed one night when I walked by her bedroom and saw her kneeling by her bed, clutching her rosary with a focus that seemed almost desperate. Each bead slipped through her fingers with a whispered prayer, her lips moving silently. It was a nightly ritual, one she never missed. I wondered if I would ever understand the significance of those beads if they ever ended up in my hands.

Another peculiar thing about my grandmother was that she went to everybody's funeral. It was like she knew everyone who died in our entire town. When you get old, you know all the other old people, but these weren't just old people—sometimes a baby would die, sometimes a mother would get cancer and pass away, sometimes a whole family from out of town would get in a car accident, and she’d go pay her respects at their funeral too. I never questioned it too much. How can you question an old woman going to pay her respects and bring a grieving family a memorial plant grown from the stems of the funeral arrangement they loved most, complete with soil and lessons on how to plant it and take care of it? She would teach the whole family of the deceased; the children could come too. I went with her many times, and it gave these people such comfort. This made my grandmother even more mysterious to me. The hardness of her look, the way she did things—it was all so intriguing. Despite all the little red flags and inconsistencies, I always came back to thinking how beautiful what she was doing was, how it meant something to these people who were overjoyed. My grandmother couldn’t be an evil demon; she couldn’t have those looks in her eyes because she was doing something more terrible than I could imagine. I liked to imagine her being a demon, but she was my grandma, so I was pretty sure she wasn’t.

Grandma would have me kneel down with her and make tiny little headstones. We made these with popsicle sticks glued together every summer. We would tape the funeral pamphlet, you know, the one with the photo, and cut it to fit over the popsicle stick frame. Then we would attach one last stick to the bottom so it would stand up in the soil; yep, it was a mini headstone. Her backyard was filled with mini popsicle stick headstones. They all had stems planted around them in the soil. Those stems, like magic, would grow into new plants and flowers—they were beautiful. When the flowers had bloomed and were ready to take to the next family, my grandmother's eyes almost gleamed with an unusual excitement. If you saw it, you’d probably think it was misplaced or maybe even inappropriate. But I was nine, I was ten; I didn’t know what it meant, so I just forgot about it. I didn’t understand, and it was too much for my ten-year-old brain.

That hindsight is 20/20 thing is real. Grandma lived for about nine more years, and during that time, I became an adult. I wasn’t around to help her with her backyard graveyard as much. But I rushed home when she got very sick. I said my final goodbye to my strange, intense, interesting, unusual, quirky grandma. For the first time ever, her eyes looked soft. She looked into my eyes, and I wondered if maybe she had made peace with her life, or maybe she was deep in thought. “Grandma, what are you thinking about?" I asked. “I’m picturing you carrying on what I've done for the church and for the people. I hope that you could do that for me. I hope that you can promise that you will do that for me. I'm leaving the house, the garden, and everything to you. All the instructions are written in the shed. Everything I have is yours. Just do this for me."

"Grandma, of course, I promise I will go to all the town funerals that I can. I'll cut the stems and get the photos. The stems will grow into new plants, and I will give them to... wait, who do I give them to?"

“Whoever needs prayers on the prayer list at Sunday Mass. If the person on the prayer list is in the hospital or a nursing home, don't bring the plant and soil there. The person won't be there permanently, and the plant is meant to be forever. Bring two bags of soil and the plants to their home, and teach the children and adults there how to plant them."

“One bag may be enough to cause some effects on the family."

"Affects, Grandma? Like gratitude or thank you cards?"

“My sweet grandson, there are many short and long-term effects that depend on many variables. You'll see, don't worry."

“Grandma, are you okay? I don't really understand what you mean."

“Well, you have to see to know. So deliver your first one now," she said. Her eyes at that moment became dark but excited, cunning. She looked into my soul, but her blackened eyes were devoid of anything, empty, void. My grandma was not in there. I wondered, is this what happens when you die? But how could she have left her body, how could her soul be gone when she’s awake? Now, as an adult, I knew something was wrong. I knew that all along there was something about my grandmother that was sinister.

“Son, I'm very tired now. Please go pick up the plants at my house. This child is six months old and is sick. He needs it near him, so please place the flowers and soil in the nursery. Do not stay very long at all."

“Grandma, I don't want to be rude."

“You asked about the affects. The affects on a child are intense and immediate. They could start minutes after being in contact with the soil."

“The soil, Grandma? What is in the soil, and what effect will it have on a little baby? Is it some holistic, natural thing you've gotten into? I don't believe in that stuff. You can't cure a sick baby with magic soil."

“My stubborn grandson, just be on your way, and you will see. Listen to me carefully. After the sweet baby's funeral, which should be in a week or two, show the parents the utmost kindness. Give them a gift that will always remind them of their child. Go back to their house with more soil and plant with them their child's plants in the backyard."

“Grandma, did they give you some meds? Are you saying... what are you saying? Are you... wait?"

As David stood up, his grandmother looked pale, her eyes barely open. "David, one more thing. You mustn’t forget to bring enough soil. The chemicals, they make the plants grow so malevolently powerful."

She smiled at me, looking straight into my eyes, and I knew exactly why. I felt it in my eyes—they were black, empty. I felt nothing but a strange sense of excitement. At that moment, I changed forever, this incredible sense of clarity came over me, I wasn't meant to understand it, until that moment. I had become blind as an adult to my family's sacred truth. Just as my Grandmother warned me, my ego took over for a while, but this too was part of my soul's plan. Everything came rushing back into me, I could almost feel all of the dense energy releasing and being pulled out of me and this powerful light entering.

There was never a demon, the devil was not at work in my Grandmother! She protected me, and she groomed me. Our destinies intertwined, our darkness a continuance through generations. It all made sense now. My grandmother loved me, protected me, and groomed me, all while never stealing my innocence. There was never any demon inside of her, or any sickness. Everyone has darkness inside them; that I know for sure. Some are meant to let it completely take over, until they can accept and heal it. Some are meant to walk in the light and spread the light to the world. What about you? Are you lying to yourself and everyone else, is the darkness buried deep enough? Are you open and healed? Are you letting all your light come in? If not, what of the urges then, have they come back yet? No one can escape themselves forever. So, tell me… which parts of yourself are in that box buried so deep inside? Why can’t they be acknowledged? Are they too ugly? Do you feel enraged if someone really ‘sees’ you, and catches a glimpse of what you hide? Do you become enraged at that point and project the darkness onto them? If you are doing this, it’s bad, and it’s destructive, but it’s not too late. You can stop the darkness from winning, we all can. Accept it, acknowledge that ugly parts exist in you, and in all of us. Love the parts of you that you don’t like, as you do the rest of yourself. They make up the story of your soul's journey through lifetimes.

32 years after David sat with his dying Grandmother. A little boy opened a leather journal he'd never seen before sitting on his kitchen table.

He recognized his father's handwriting and began to read.

In David's seemingly twisted rationale, he trusted that those he led to their deaths had soul plans that included this violent end. He believed that their family members were meant to endure the agony of grief, a necessary suffering to evolve in their spiritual journeys. To David, the act of murder was not evil; it was a sacred duty, a dark rite of passage. His understanding of his role was both horrifying and absolute. He knew, with chilling certainty, that he was fulfilling a cosmic order. Each death was a step closer to his soul's ultimate evolution. And so, he continued, each murder more calculated than the last, each victim a willing participant in his grotesque mission. David's final thought before he drifted off to sleep at night was simple, yet profound.

"In death, I bring life to my soul."

#WordPromptThatJustKeptGoing #Horror #WordsPopsicleStickStemLawn

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daydreaming-in-letters · 3 months

Note

Hiya! Have never made a fic request before, but here goesssss:

You and Andy met through mutual friends in Nashville during the summer of 2022 while he was recording some tracks for Unreal Unearth. You spent nearly three months in each other's beds before you abruptly "ghosted" him by moving to LA for your dream marketing job w/ Warner Music Group.

Now here you are, at an engagement party of your childhood best friend Stephanie to one of Andrew's childhood mates, sitting across the table from the man you never thought you'd have to see again - one who's staring at you like this:

🫣😬🫠

Wow, ehm, this was quite the specific request. I usually don't do these, as I find that my creativity works best with a bit of freedom. I somehow managed to come up with something, I don't know if it is any good though.

So please, for future requests, be a bit less specific. The idea was to just send a pic with a request for fluff or smut. It's absolutely fine to ask for a certain outfit, hairstyle, setting, trope, etc., but please don't get mad if I choose to ignore detailed requests like this in the future.

warnings: talk about past ghosting

Gloomy eyes bore into you, staring you down from across the table with a resentment you had never seen in them before. Was he sulking? Or trying to read your mind? Or did he hope his gaze would turn into actual daggers and pierce right through you on the spot?

Whatever it was, it was working and even though you had given it your all to hold your ground these past hours, your walls firmly pulled up all evening, you could steadily feel the inner storm build that tugged on your nerves from both ends until they would eventually snap.

But beside all the grim looks he had shot your way, he had not said a single word. Not to you, anyway, and also not to many of the other guests. But as he leant in now, eyes narrowed, his elbows supporting his weight against the table, you knew that the dangerous clenching of his jaw could only mean that he was finally ready to fire his venom your way.

You rose to your feet in an instant, the blatant noise as your chair scraped across the floor silencing every single conversation in the room. And even though all eyes were collectively resting on you now, it was that one familiar set of green orbs that forced the heat into your cheeks.

“I’ll just,” you stuttered, pointing across your shoulder to the nearest escape route into the garden. “I just need some fresh air. Be back in a sec.”

With one last apologetic look at your friend, you wasted no more time on half-hearted excuses and hurried your steps to get away from the table—from him—as far as possible.

A cool breeze welcomed you as you stepped through the large glass doors, but you did not hold your steps until you had crossed the entirety of the terrace and your feet touched the pliable surface of the lawn. The silence was heavenly, allowing you to properly breathe for the first time tonight.

Sadly it was disturbed by hurried steps all too soon. Probably Stephanie’s, who must have come to check on you after that suspicious stunt you had pulled mere moments ago. Good, you thought, you had a bone to pick with her anyway. How could she, after everything that had happened, invite that man without at least giving you a heads up?

“Is this your idea of a joke?” you blurted out, hoping she was already close enough to hear you. You did not care to turn, being far too angry to face her yet.

“Can’t really say it is, no.”

But the voice that answered you was not Stephanie’s at all. You spun around on instinct, wide eyes finding the outline of his familiar form against the lights that fell from the house behind him.

“Andrew.”

What a stupid thing to say. Of course it was him. However much you wished it was not. And his reply made it unmistakably clear that he did not care for your presence either.

“Why are you here?” “What do mean, why am I here?” you snapped. “I was invited, just like you, I presume.”

“You didn’t need to come,” he stated plainly, and the cold in his voice made you shiver.

“I might not have if I had known you’d be here.”

“That’s rich!” he spat. “Especially since you are the one who chose to leave.”

“I chose to, yes,” you defended yourself, taking a step towards him. Why, you did not know. Were you getting ready to throw hands with him? You would, if provoked. Or did you just succumb to the need to look into his eyes while you said what you had been needing to say for so long. “Because I wanted that job. You know how much it meant to me. But even more so,” you paused for a moment, reluctant to finally reveal the full truth. A truth you had never been able to tell before. The real reason why you had so cowardly deserted him almost two years ago. “I needed space.”

“Space?” his brows furrowed as he pondered the revelation. “So, you were running from me?”

“No, not from you.” How could he ever think you were running from him? And if that was not enough to make your heart heavy, the broken look in his eyes almost killed you. It tempted you to give in, to reach out and touch his cheek to ease the harsh creases in his forehead. But you could not. “I ran from whatever it was that you and me were. It…I couldn’t do it any longer.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

He sighed, the frustration in his tone was apparent now. “No, I don’t.”

“Because I wanted you,” you blurted out. “I wanted you so much.” And then your voice broke underneath the weight of your confession. "But not like that.”

“Like what?”

It was your turn to sigh now. Why did he have to make this extra hard for you? Why couldn’t he just understand?

“Andy, I wanted a life with you. Not some casual sex whenever I fit into your busy schedule.”

“That’s not fair. You knew who is was, what I do.”

He was right of course. You had known all of that from the start. And still you had clung to that frail thread of hope that this, you and him, would somehow be different.

“I did. But I didn’t know…” You could not bare to look at him. Not when your vision was already starting to blur. He would notice, and you could not allow that on top of everything else that was already turning this night into your personal living hell. And so you spun around.

“What? What did you not know?”

The sudden softness in his voice finally made your eyes spill over. Hot streams of tears ran down your cheeks freely now, and when he touched you, so tender, just like you remembered, there was nothing left inside of you to resist. As if your soul had left your body, you watched the scene unfold, watched him turn you back around, your heart almost leaping out of your chest when his formerly furious eyes softened instantly. It was time.

“I did not know how much I would…” you sniffled, “how much you would come to mean to me.”

There, you had said it, and it had not nearly hurt as much as you had anticipated. Actually, you were feeling a little better, lighter, somehow. But at the same time it was almost unbearably clear to you that your fate now hung in the balance of the deafening silence that loomed in the darkness all around you.

Time trickled by torturously slowly, but still no words had left his lips. You were almost beginning to wonder if he would ever speak to you again, if you should just walk away and leave it all behind. But things were different now than they had been two years ago, you were different, and so you stayed put.

And then he moved. Carefully, as if he was afraid to scare you away, he reached out for you. His hand felt heavenly against the cool skin of your cheek and the gentle brush of his thumb as he wiped away your tears made your heart flutter. Yet it was nothing compared to his words.

“And you think you did not mean just as much to me?”

You could not speak, your tongue heavy as lead. And so you simply shook your head instead. You were still trying hard to process his words, so afraid your foggy brain might have misheard that you did not notice at first. It was only when you felt his breath crawling along your lips that you realised he was pulling you in.

With the point of no return long passed, there was no going back now. Fisting the cool leather of his jacket, you closed the small gap that still remained and with the long lost taste of him fresh on your lips, you lost all control.

Lips moved in a fevered frenzy, tongues dancing, exploring, tasting what they had dearly missed all this time, glad to find that nothing had changed, even though everything was different now.

You both broke away with a gasp, panting heavily as he rested his forehead against yours, your face still framed by his large hands.

“I’m sorry I fucked this up,” he pushed out between two harsh breaths.

“We both did.”

But you did not think it mattered anymore, all the pain and frustration and anger washed away as you buried your face in the soft cotton of his shirt and let his familiar scent calm your racing heart. You had no idea how long the two of you had stayed like this, his arms wrapped around you, tender lips pressing a kiss to your hair every now and then. All you knew was that you never wanted this to end. And there was only one question left to ask.

“Where do we go from here?” your words came muffled against his chest.

“How about back inside?” He must have felt you stir upon his words and so he was quick to add, “Just for a start. We can figure out the rest along the way.”

#hozier #hozier x you #hozier x reader #request

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sometimes-men-need-help-too · 11 months

Text

So this woman asked reddit if she was in the wrong for joking about her husband in front of their colleagues after he refused to socialize.

She started out mentioning that she received a promotion at work to a more senior position than what her husband has. She said that while he was happy for her, she thinks he's embarrassed that she's his superior now.

They went to a work related social event ( It was supposed to be an opportunity to build team cohesion and that sort of thing.) . The husband didn't really want to go, said he had a migraine and she added that he's pretty introverted. She told him that it would be weird if he didn't go, that people would think he's jealous of her, and after some time, she was able to convince him to go. She said he greeted a few people but mostly sat in the corner and only talked to a few people at a time.

She said she was in a large group when someone, who had not yet seen my husband there, asked where he was and jokingly asked if he was as serious and mysterious at home as he was at work.

I told them he was the complete opposite at home. I said that while at work he seems organized, at home he’s a bit of a slob. I joked about how he always leaves his laundry all over the floor and I mentioned things like how he complains too much about random trivial things like the neighbors' kids sometimes playing on our lawn.

I also mentioned how he has a fear of heights and how he was shaking the entire time when we crossed a rope bridge during our honeymoon. I did say a few other things like how I sometimes feel like I’m his parent.

Everyone was interested and surprised to hear all of this, and we did share many laughs together. At some point, my husband walked into the conversation and quickly pieced together what we were talking about. The rest of the conversation was awkward after that.

On the drive home, my husband was not speaking. When I asked him if everything was alright, he said that I surprised him. I was annoyed by him being vague, so I told him that I knew that he wasn’t feeling 100%, but that he was acting childish for not socializing and acting offended.

He said that it was childish and rude that I was sharing his personal details with our colleagues. I then told him that he was blowing things out of proportion, but he didn’t respond, and the rest of the ride was silent.

When we got home, we argued again about the night's events. My husband said my behavior was appalling and that he questioned if I had any respect for him. I was angry by his outburst so I told him that he was only being sensitive because I was technically his superior now and that what was really bothering him. The argument ended there, as my husband didn't want to "waste any more time" and went to bed.

This morning, I texted my younger sister what happened, and she accused me of being insensitive.

So it was pretty unanimous that she was in the wrong. I definitely agree with that verdict. There's a lot to unpack here so let's go:

The first red flag that stands out to me is her manipulating him into going to the social event. I don't know if that's something that would look bad on him if he didn't go, not because of her reasoning but because it's just something you should do for whatever type of work they're in. But even if he had to go, I would think a migraine is enough to stay behind. I've never experienced one myself but I hear they're brutal. And then for her to insist that he go out sounds kinda cruel. Why put him in a position for it to possibly worsen?

The fact that she told him he had to go or it would make people think that he's jealous of her made me question the validity of her assumption that he's jealous of her. A lot of people in the comments didn't believe that either, with some speculating that she just feels a sense of superiority over him. Why else is that your thought? And then you have her reasoning that he was only upset because of her position and not because she humiliated him in front of co-workers.

But even before we get to that part, she was upset with him for not socializing the way she wanted him to. He only talked to a few people at a time, staying in a corner on his own. But again, he did have a migraine so he probably didn't want to be where there was a bunch of noise (i.e. in a group with people talking). But according to her he's also pretty introverted. It's no surprise he's not gonna be up for all that.

She even downplays what she did by calling it joking. But that is not what it was. This wasn't playful, it feels like she was trying to get even with him. She completely put him down, belittled and embarrassed him in front of co-workers. It would be bad enough if she did that in front of friends and family, but this could affect the dynamic between him and those other people.

And there's no way to soften it. She disrespected him by airing out all those things. You don't just tell people your partner's fears and bad habits to make jokes at their expense. What she did, you can't take back. Especially not with "I'm just joking!"

It's also extremely unprofessional. She's showing her colleagues that she's not the kind of person who should bein that position. I mean, if she publicly humiliates someone under her, someone she's married to, then what would she do to someone else? That's what other people are likely to question.

She did respond to a few people, but I wanted to specifically highlight this one:

This was in response to someone who didn't believe OP's claim that her husband was jealous at all.

This kind of floors me. She's assuming and interpreting all this instead of just having a conversation with her husband before everything blew up.

There was also this comment from someone who was on her side:

First of all, people would think something of it. They'd be all over it, saying he's toxic and abusive and that his wife should leave him ASAP. Regardless of what she feels, it doesn't give her the right to talk crap about him like that. It doesn't give anyone the right. He's not weak for being upset at her for talking about things that should have been kept private. Anyone in his place would understandably be upset. You don't treat your spouse the way OP did. It doesn't matter if they have bad habits like the laundry thing or not. You speak about that stuff at home and not a social event.

#mens rights #male victims of abuse #male victims #relationships

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chiefdirector · 8 months

Text

Looking | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

“Sargent Grey,” Lopez called, trying to catch up with the watch commander, “I had a look at the footage from the main lobby. No I.D. Just seemed like some kid doing an errand, paper boy maybe.”

He stopped in the corridor, brushing his hand over his face in frustration. “Right, okay. Go tell Detective Bradford, liaise with her. See if you can help in any way.”

“Already have. She said that she’s on the phone with a handwriting analysis. Run it through the database and records corresponding to anyone with the initials R.D.”

“That’ll take forever,”

Angela hummed. “Not exactly. This analysis guy said the writing was female. Already cuts the search in half. It was also in cursive, so we can make the initial assumption that the sender has some form of formal education, if not they are highly intelligent. That’s not too many ‘R.D’’s left to determine. (Y/N)’s also sent it out for prints, see if we can get a hit that way.”

“Good work Lopez,” Grey said, starting to move towards his office again. “Let me know if you find anything. And tell Detective Bradford to stop leaving her damn coffee cups in my office.”

Angela laughed, turning to go back to the detective's bullpen. “Yes, sir.”

----------

Tim and Lucy go back to his house to try to find the location of the picture taker. And any info. Lucy questions tim on their relationship

Lucy looked intently out of the shop window as Tim drove towards his home. He had been so strict on keeping his personal life out of his professional one, but there was something about this boot in particular that seemed to worm her way in everytime. There was something about Chen that made Tim feel comfortable sharing details, no matter how minute they were. Perhaps it was her forever optimistic nature, or the fact that if it weren’t for her, he probably never would have found (Y/N).

At one point, he had thought about thanking her but he also knew that Chen was well aware of his gratefulness; and that she would never let him live it down if he did thank her. She was like him in that way, he saw a lot of himself in her. Tim knew that she would go far, she just needed a little guidance to get there.

“So this is where you live, hm?” Chen said, breaking the silence that had resided in the shop for the last ten minutes. “Nice neighbourhood. Seems a little out of a cops price range though…”

“Are you really judging my financial status right now, boot?” Tim snapped, although the sting in his voice was barely there. She was right, it was far too pricey for his, or (Y/N)’s, salary. Even if they were combined they would have no chance of getting a mortgage for this area of L.A.

“No, no. It’s just that this area is nice. Like nice nice. Not Kardashian nice but like you know.”

“Someone was murdered in our house, three actually.” Tim smiled, deciding to ease up on Chen somewhat, afterall, he knew that Lucy would ask his wife and (Y/N) never spared any detail in this particular story. “We both worked the scene together. Managed to get the price lowered somewhat. Only had to change the floorboards and get a couple drywall boards replaced. Drenched in blood.”

Lucy swallowed at the information, nodding along. She turned to look out at the surroundings again as Tim pulled over to the side of the road. “All these houses have a driveway?” She pointed out.”

“And?” He said, turning the engine off and getting out of the car. Slamming the door behind him, he opened his phone, pulling up the copy of the photo (Y/N) had sent him and moving to the approximate place the photo was taken.

He ended up halfway into his neighbour’s front lawn. The exact spot would have been covered by shrubbery lining the edge of the grass, it would explain why they didn’t catch a glimpse of their paparazzo this morning.

“Chen,” Tim moved from his position on his neighbour’s lawn crossing the road towards his home. Calling back towards Chen as he moved, knowing that she would be following him, “Come on, we’re going inside. I need to call Grey, let him know that there’s nothing here.”

“Inside? Like inside your home? I get to see where you live.” Lucy babbled on with excitement. If someone had told her on her first day that she would be invited into Officer Bradford’s home, she would have laughed in their face. “Oh my god. I get to see how you decorate, this is so cool! I need to tell Jackson.”

“I can leave you outside if you carry on.” Tim unlocked the door, letting himself in. He held it from the inside letting Chen make her choice.

“Shutting up.”

----------

(Y/N) hung the phone up, moving to continue typing up the current additions to the case report. Her fingers practically slammed into the keys as she typed, annoyance flowing through her. Since she left Grey’s office, she had gotten nowhere. No matter who she called, nobody seemed to know anything about who was after her.

It was infuriating, to be so powerless. Knowing that her life hung in The hands of some mad man that she didn’t even know the name of would cause most anyone to spiral but she knew that she couldn’t afford to lose focus now, not after how far she had come.

Holding back a sigh, she saved the file and reached for her phone. Quickly, she pressed Tim’s contact and held it up to her ear, listening as it rang and rang and rang until she reached his voicemail. She hung up before she could leave a message and went back to typing. Only stopping when she heard something placed down beside her.

“Your coffee.”

(Y/N) looked up, seeing Chen standing beside her. She smiled, picking up the travel mug and taking a sip.

“Tim asked me to drop it off. He made it when we went to see if there was anything to see back at your place.” Chen leaned against the desk to the right hand side of (Y/N)’s. “He also said to tell you that his phone was nearly dead. He’s charging it now.”

“Ah okay cool.” (Y/N) took another sip, relishing in the warm vanilla taste. Tim always made the coffee in the mornings, recently he had begun making her lattes with flavoured syrups. Vanilla was her favourite, despite how often Tim said it was the most basic option. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, actually. There is. I wanted to ask you something…”

“Shoot.”

“I want to do some UC work after my rookie year. I think that’s where I could really thrive and I wanted to know…”

(Y/N) nodded, finishing Chen’s sentence. “If it would be a good fit. Well as someone who has done it, I think it takes a certain kind of person to be able to do it. Personally, I would never do any more long term assignments. I don’t think I’m that person anymore. I lost everything, and I’m still fighting to get it back.” She sighed, placing her coffee down on the desk.

(Y/N) gestured for Chen to pull up a chair before she continued. “Obviously you’re still a rookie, and I haven’t seen much of you in action. You have got some way to go. But you have that spark and if it’s what you want, I could see if I could take you one day. Show you the ropes, go through some old cases of mine. Let you get the feel for it.”

“Really? That would be great.” Lucy beamed at Bradford’s words.

“But you will have to consider if it will be worth it. Look at the mess we’re all in because of me. If I hadn’t gone on that assignment than-”

“Then it would be someone else that Regina would have gotten revenge on.” Tim interrupted, walking over to the two women. He quickly reached for the coffee on the desk, not allowing (Y/N) the time to slap his hand away before he got a sip. “But the theory was right. It definitely wasn’t Regina.”

(Y/N) looked up inquisitively at her husband as he spoke.

“The handwriting analyst made a match throughout the system. I don’t know who but Lopez is getting the report now. She’ll be here soon. Grey wants us all in the conference room.”

Chapter 21 | Chapter 23

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath @agentred27 @hufflepuffwhore13 @tessalynni @anaferreira-4

Tags are open :)

#tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie #chiefdirector #bottom of the river

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pugh-bug · 3 months

Text

No.42 Chapter 6

Art Donaldson x reader slow burn

I’m sorry for the long wait, I’ve not been feeling very motivated and I’ve been busy with a lot of personal things. Anyway, as always my taglist for this fic is open and I really hope you all enjoy this longer Chapter! ✨🫶🏻

Part 5

———————————————————————

It was the morning of Liam’s party when you woke with a particularly vengeful headache, one not unlike the great Zweig plague of 2017. You didn’t know why he called it a plague, it had only been a hangover coupled with a bad cold but Patrick was nothing if not theatrical.

You rolled over, groaning slightly from the effort, to check the time: 11:43am. Before you could think about food a knock at your door made you jump, sending your free arm thrashing into your phone. It hit the floor with a dreadful smashing sound. ‘Shit!’

‘Everything okay?’

Art.

‘Yeah, just … fucking smashed my phone.’

One of the many things you and Patrick had in common was your ability to break just about anything: laptops, mugs or phone screens it didn’t matter. A week in your so called ‘care’ and they’d be hospitalised. After grabbing the nearest hoodie you owned you let Art into your room to show him the damage. He tutted at the sight.

‘What? I guess you don’t break anything.’

He only smiled at your comment before Patrick chimed in from the hall stating that ‘the prick’ not only never broke ‘shit’ but that he was incapable of ‘messing shit up either’. Shakespeare be damned.

You rubbed your face a little, still half asleep and focused your eyes on the blonde above you. ‘That true?’

Art looked down at you, the sleepiness apparent on your face but somehow just adding to your charm, and thought about his games. He’d once lost to Liam after a - not so surprisingly - rageful argument with his ex and smashed the racket so hard into the grass that it had broken in nine pieces. Then he grinned: ‘Yes.’

——————————————————————

‘What time did Liam say to be there for?’ You yelled from your room, whilst trying not to rip your lashes out with the flimsy curler you’d stolen from a friend years before. They replied that the three of you needed to leave in half an hour. Where the fuck had the day gone?

As the fan in your room whirred incessantly, you lent your face to its subpar coolness for a breather. No matter how many Summers you endured it was still your least favourite season. Hayfever was a bitch.

‘Is this okay?’

You turned you head at the sound of Art’s eager voice. He was stood in your doorway wearing a navy shirt, that brought out his eyes, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Even his soft curls were looking bouncier than usual, just begging to be tousled and pulled on.

‘Yep. Fine.’

It took you forty minutes to finish your makeup. Having Patrick and Art argue over tennis in your ear was distraction enough to cause your eyeliner to be uneven. You redid it. From the corner of his eye, without arousing suspicion, Art watched you in awe. He found the concentration on your face and the detail and care you took with your makeup - no your art - fascinating. It reminded him of himself, his perfectionism with all things tennis.

‘Y/N, let’s gooo!’ Patrick launched at you, playfully shaking your shoulders from side to side while you went limp like a rag doll.

‘You done?’

His eyes widened at your sass.

‘Are YOU done??’

Art chuckled to himself, before the inevitable ‘you’re the third wheel’ self doubt came simmering in.

——————————————————————

‘We’re Ubering back right?’ You asked, as Patrick parked at the end of Liam’s street. The only way you were going to survive a house party of people you barely knew was through drinking enough cocktails to fill a pool. ‘I refuse to be the designated driver.’ And no amount of ‘it’s not a tennis thing’ reminders were going to change that.

Liams house was undoubtedly the largest on the estate, with its imposing double door entrance, obnoxious lawn ornaments and light up pool. God a light up pool? ‘Jesus Christ…’ you mumbled to yourself, catching Art’s attention.

‘He’s fond of it. Don’t say anything.’

Liam was still dressed for tennis, no surprises there, and holding a keg when he greeted the three of you. His smile was as welcoming as ever but his friends floated around him without giving you so much as a glance. They belonged in a house this grand, as did Art and Patrick. You, however, felt like the unwanted pest no spray could rid the house of.

‘You never told me you were The Great Gatsby.’

Liam scoffed at your dryness, stating that Art’s house was ‘much much bigger.’ Since your attraction and care for Art had grown it hadn’t escaped your notice, despite all the daydreaming, that there was a class difference between the two of you. You were no stranger to this of course it was the same with Patrick, which had caused issues in the past, but the sting was as strong. In fact it was strengthened by the fact that Art wasn’t just a friend to you and any future you imagined with him was tainted with the knowledge of that divide.

With Patrick’s Grandma’s line: ‘Don’t stare or they’ll smell poverty’ in your head, you walked past every expensive item with forced indifference. The smell of sandalwood, Chanel and Chardonnay filled the air with the twenty foot ceilings never halting their potency. Patrick had found the kegs too inviting to ignore so as you lost him to the party you glanced, not so subtlety, at Liam’s ‘not tennis friends’ guests. You clocked several sporting Louis Vuitton and felt the overwhelming urge to leave.

‘Drinks are in the dining room, if you were wondering.’

Liam’s younger brother, you presumed it was he had the same nose, had a much higher voice than you’d expected. The boy couldn’t have been more than sixteen, so what on earth was he doing talking to you?

‘You’re-‘

‘Danny, Liam’s brother.’

‘Oh! Yeah, Art just mentioned you.’

At the mention of Art, Danny flinched involuntarily. His eyes, much less sure than his brothers, darted around the room. ‘Liam invited Art?’ Without letting you answer, he widened his eyes and rubbed his face in genuine confusion. You were suddenly intrigued. ‘Yeah, they hang out almost as much as me and Pat. Why the surprise?’ Danny shrugged, refusing to make eye contact with you for several moments. What was his issue?

‘I shouldn’t say.’

The two of you watched Liam and Art for a moment, drinking alarmingly quickly in the centre of the room enjoying the blaring speakers. As Art looked down and wiped his mouth, grinning, you noticed Liam’s smile drop. His eyes suddenly narrowed and bore into the side of his friend’s head. It was brief but unsettling.

‘You know how Liam’s girlfriend dumped him last week?’

You shook your head.

‘Well, she said he was holding her career back or something and she kicked him out. He’s not just here to throw this party, he lives here again with us Mum is furious but anyway - he’s …’ Danny bit his bottom lip, struggling to find the right phrasing. ‘Liam’s still in love with you.’ For a moment you just stared, glass eyed, not taking anything in. What? Liam had just dated a tennis star, a national hero, a Gucci model and not once had you thought he was hard done by. That he needed you instead, that he needed to go back to his little crush on his even richer friend’s roommate. What was wrong with him?

‘Just, don’t say anything.’ Danny suddenly looked horrified at his confession and before you could ask him why he’d said anything at all, he’d scurried to some wing of the house you’d never find.

——————————————————————

After Danny’s strange departure you had found Patrick and Art and caught up to their drunkness. Quickly. It hadn’t taken you and Art long to clean out Liam’s fridge and varnish Art’s pretty braincells with a layer of stupid you’d yet to see. Before long you’d switched to Pepsi but the same couldn’t be said for Donaldson.

‘Y/N….’

The party wasn’t close to dying down but luckily in a house so obnoxiously grand there were plenty of empty rooms. You and Art had taken refuge in one of many spare bedrooms to listen to his drunken ramblings without interruption.

‘I could have smust loved here.’ Art huffed, suddenly looking like a petulant toddler sat on the floor with his ninth beer. He was the lightest light weight you’d ever met, in fact… ‘Do you normally drink?’

‘Huh? … OH DRINK?!’ He looked confused, as if he’d just lost something but couldn’t remember what. You had to admit to yourself it was hilarious to see such a put together man so incompetent. ‘No…never I never drink ever ever Y/N.’ His starry gaze hardened and suddenly, whilst looking comically serious, Art pulled you close with force. ‘Want to hear a secret?’ You blinked slowly. ‘I’m not drummkk at all!’ Bless.

Both of you erupted into giggles at his mistake, although you weren’t sure if Art knew what he was laughing at. His face lit up, like a child on Christmas, and you actually felt sad for a moment thinking this was the happiest you’d seen him in a while.

Somehow, Danny’s voice had wormed its way into your head spelling ‘Liam invited Art?’ over and over. You knew it was wrong to pry but you wanted to know more. ‘Art?’ He was drinking his tenth beer with conviction. ‘How’s Liam?’ Art suddenly sighed, quite loudly, and set his beer on the ground. He almost knocked it over but you caught it with ease, only to catch him smiling at you dreamily. Drunk, he’s drunk shhhh brain.

‘He’s fine just really smi,’ he coughed suddenly before correcting himself. ‘FINE!’ You giggled, almost feeling sad for Patrick that he wasn’t there to witness Art’s childishness. It might have been the first time since meeting the future tennis star that you’d felt like the together one, although you weren’t exactly sober either.

‘You two okay then? No issues?’ You heard your own voice but it wasn’t yours it was high school you. The girl who craved gossip and details, the girl who could barely keep a secret for a lesson let alone forever. Art was peeling the sticker off his bottle when he answered you, eyes still glazed over and confused like a newborn. ‘He’s been a bit dick since she,’ you noticed him rock slightly on ‘she’. ‘Broke up with h- him. Broke up broke up broke up. He likes youuuu though.’ His confused face suddenly hardened and he frowned only for a moment but you caught it.

Knock knock

‘No one better be fucking in here!’

Liam.

‘Okay? 3,2,1 get your clothes back on sluts I’m coming in!’

Liam’s face fell when he saw it was you and Art alone, you watched his eyes gage the close proximity between you but then the unused bed. He tutted. ‘Donaldson who let you drink this much?’ You raised your hands innocently as if to say ‘not me!’ as Liam helped his friend up. Using his best dad voice, that didn’t mask his impatience, he took the weight of Art’s slack body and walked him to the hall. They’d barely walked four steps before: ‘Y/N? Y/N’s coming right? She … she hast to come!’ If he hadn’t have been completely gone and yelling, you might have found the moment romantic. Instead you just felt concern.

‘We’ll get you some water okay?’ Art nodded eagerly at you, ignoring Liam’s huffiness. It had been a long night already and you weren’t planning on spending the rest of it watching Art get his stomach pumped. God he was a light weight. When the three of you made it downstairs, with great difficulty and lots of swearing from Liam, you were greeted instantly with a lipstick kissed Patrick grinning ear to ear. ‘Someone’s had fun.’

‘More than you.’ He raised an eyebrow at Art, who was quickly melting into the depressive stage of drunkness babbling about tennis losses under his breath. The alarmingly expensive speakers were blasting Nelly whilst you waded Art through the gyrating crowd to water. It was like babysitting without the pay.

It took Patrick threatening to break all of his rackets before Art drunk any water. Liam’s patience had expired much quicker and lead him to depart to party room 26? There were too many rooms to remember. The three of you were alone in the looming kitchen but there was a speaker nearby disturbing the peace.

The kitchen tiles were cool against your warm legs when you sat with Art, his head against the fridge door. Patrick wiped the lipstick aggressively from his cheek before shouting over the music ‘Does anyone have a cig?’ You shook your head and Art - well Art was falling asleep slowly but surely, his head lolling as he fought to stay awake.

‘I know Liam has a thousand rooms but I think we should take him home.’

Patrick sighed in response, his head throbbing from the music and shots already. ‘Art honey?’ You always called drunk people honey or sweetie, it had started when you were sixteen and never quite stopped. ‘Do you want us to take you home?’ He opened his eyes wearily to meet yours. ‘You can get some proper sleep.’ Art simply nodded and held his arms up for you to help him. The poor boy was hopeless when he was hammered and you found it equal parts adorable and concerning.

——————————————————————

In the Uber home Patrick called shotgun, as usual, so you sat with Art in the back. His head had gradually, over the course of the journey, lent more and more on your body until his head was resting in your lap. Every so often you’d look down to check he was still breathing but you needn’t worry. He was fast asleep.

‘Y/N?’ Patrick craned his neck towards you. ‘Thanks for looking after him tonight.’ He smiled a classic Zweig smile but slightly more tired. You ran your fingers through Art’s curls without thinking and mumbled ‘You took care of him too.’ Patrick turned back in his seat and sighed ‘He might need you more.’

Chapter 7

Masterlist

Taglist: @gatorgirl007 @imblushingrn @soy-garbage @blahhucantmakeme

#challengers #mike faist #challengers art donaldson #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #fan fic writer #art donaldson fan fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson x reader friends to lovers #art Donaldson x reader slow burn #art donaldson friends to lovers #art Donaldson slow burn #challengers art donaldson x reader #no.42

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kcwriter-blog · 1 year

Text

And Yet

The nights are the hardest. During the day there are reports to read, dispatches to send, agents to meet and plans to make. At night there is only him. His thoughts. His remorse. His guilt.

Guilt for what happened in the past. Guilt for what he intends to do. Guilt for what he did to her.

He laces his fingers together, leans forward and rests his head on his knuckles. So many memories. So many regrets. He never should have let it get that far.

And yet.

That first tentative kiss. A bold move on her part. A silent question. Did he feel for her what she felt for him?

He knew how she felt. Had known for some time. Had pushed aside his own feelings. It wasn't right. Any first kiss would end in a last. He knew that, even if she did not.

And yet.

It had been so long since anyone had looked at him that way. So long since anyone had touched him. He resisted. Then he did what he has always done. He gave into his impulses - and doomed them both.

And yet.

He lifts his head, unlaces his fingers and rubs his eyes. He is so tired. The Fade calls. There are places he can go. Places that will remind him of what was lost. Places that will bolster his resolve.

And yet.

Rising from his desk, he walks over to a cot in a corner of the room. They don't understand why he won't take more opulent quarters. He doesn't need them. He doesn't deserve them.

Reclining, he closes his eyes and opens himself to the Fade. Quickly, the door opens. He steps through and finds what he always finds. He is not where he planned to be.

And yet.

There is a gravel path leading to a manicured garden. She will be there. In her dreams she is always there.

At first there were nightmares. It was only to be expected. She had been through so much. Lost so much.

It was his fault. How could it not be? He had set it all in motion. He took everything from her. Her clan, her gods, her vallaslin, her heart and, ultimately, herself.

And yet.

He chased away the nightmares. It was the least he could do.

No, that was a lie. One of many he told himself. The lie that they could be together. The lie that he could set it all aside. The lie that he could be happy. He chased away the nightmares because he loved her. Would always love her.

And yet.

The nightmares lessened over time, replaced by gentler dreams. He does not need to watch over her but he cannot stay away. Now he watches to see if she is happy. To see if her dreams include someone else. Someone who can take away her pain.

And yet.

He pads softly up the path. He always comes as a wolf. He knows she isn't fooled but he cannot bear to hurt her any more than he already has.

And yet.

At the garden entrance he hears laughter. Two young elves race across the lawn. She is standing beneath an arch decorated with flowers. He focuses, as he always does, on her missing arm. One more thing he has taken from her.

Her back is to him. An elf is holding her, hugging her, kissing her. Jealousy wars with relief. She has someone. Someone who makes her happy.

And yet.

She steps out of the embrace. He can see the elf's face. His heart stops. It is his face. He looks at the children. His cheekbones. His freckles. An auburn-haired girl. A boy with grey eyes.

He slinks backwards. It isn't a dream about what she has. It is a dream about what she wants.

She turns, catching sight of him as she has done so many times before. They never speak. Have not spoken since that final kiss.

And yet.

"I see you, Fen' Harel." Her voice is soft, sad and heartbreakingly beautiful.

He flinches. It feels wrong, that hated name falling from her lips. His ears droop. He looks into her eyes. Looks for the anger that should be there. Was there so many years ago. All he sees now is love coupled with pain.

She does not step forward. She knows he will turn away, as he has so many times before.

And yet.

"It is time we speak," she says in a tone that brooks no argument.

He has no choice. His wolf form falls away. He stands before her in the clothes he wore when they first met.

"Years ago you made a decision for me," she says as she looks into his eyes. His soul. "A decision you had no right to make. You speak of free will, yet you negated mine."

There is no heat behind her words. No accusation. In her mind, it is a fact.

"I did not." He gazes at her, silently pleading with her to stop.

"I would have gone with you. I wanted to be by your side," she continues as if she did not hear him. Her voice is not as gentle as before. Anger wars with grief. "You said, no."

"I could not let that happen," he replies, his voice husky. "I cannot let you see what I will become. I could not risk you becoming the same."

The softness in her expression is replaced by steel. Her will was always strong. It was what carried her through the unspeakable horrors he had unwittingly unleashed.

"That was my choice to make, not yours!" Now, he hears the anger.

What can he say? That love gave him the right to choose for her? He knows in his heart it did not.

"Now you are making another decision. One that will harm tens of thousands." She takes a step forward. "Only a would-be god could be so arrogant."

"I am not a god," he whispers. He takes a step back. His own anger kindles in response to hers. How can she think that? Why can't she understand?

"You think not?" Her eyes challenge him. She challenges him in ways no one ever has before. "Only a god could be so callous."

Her words are like daggers. He cannot look at her.

"I have no choice," he answers, his voice rising but still barely more than a whisper.

"There are always choices, Solas," she says. Her voice is weary. The anger spent. "You may not like them but they are there."

She turns her head in the direction of her dream children, of his dream self. Turns her head in the direction of what could have been.

"Var lath vir suledin, vhenan," she says. "Remember?"

His answer sticks in his throat.

She turns back to him.

"Your choice is simple, vhenan. You can be Fen'Harel and destroy the world, or you can be Solas and find a better way."

He searches her face, expecting to see hope. There is none. She knows him too well.

And yet.

She has not given up on him.

Without another word, she turns and walks back to the other Solas waiting patiently under the arch.

It hurts. It always does. She cannot be happy unless he is by her side. Unless he is where he wants to be.

He awakens. He has a choice to make.

And yet.

#dragon age inquisition #solas #dai #solas dragon age #solavellan #solas dread wolf #solasmance #solas x female lavellan #fanfic #fen'harel #solavellanfic

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iamleesi · 5 months

Text

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: You and Bucky arrive at the house in Lincoln, Nebraska, to start the mission. And you also meet some… SHIELD agents.

Warnings: Deaths, missing people, hydra.

Other: English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for eventual mistakes. -> 18+. !!

-> Masterlist

-> Part one ; Part three

-> Sam and Dean (02)

The tension in the Quinjet was thick as you and Bucky sat in silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts. Bucky had been avoiding you like the plague but that was no surprise, his jaw clenched thigh as he stared down at the clouds out of the window.

You moved uncomfortably in your seat, your eyes finding his figure. Whether you liked it or not - whether he liked it or not, you needed to break the ice. You couldn’t arrive there pretending to be a couple when it was clear from miles away he’d push you down a hill if he could.

“So,” You started. “Anything you wanna add to the plot? This shit says little about it, Fury is letting us set up a story.” You said, looking up again from your papers. Papers that needed to be burned in case anyone found them. Rules. “Like… when we met? How we met? Something like that?”

“Isn’t that enough?” He muttered, not turning his head to look at you.

“No.” You said letting out a sigh. “Listen, you need to put this one-sided fight you have with me away for a moment. We’re on a mission to save lives, not on vacation.”

He finally turned to look at you for a long moment, before crossing his arms under his chest and sink in the seat he was sitting on. “We met at a party thanks to our common friend, Steven. We immediately hit it off and I asked you out the same night, you said yes and we got together a few months after that - two months, to be exact. The tenth of march is our anniversary. We got engaged three years later the same day and got married… when’s your birthday?”

“Seventh October.” That was the day you were supposedly born. But no one was sure, since you didn’t have a birth certificate.

“Seventh October of the same year. We moved there due to my work since you’re a stay at home wife, and we have been talking about adopting a cat.” He finished. “Is that good enough?” He asked sternly.

“Perfect, actually.”

“Great.” He grunted. “Now shut it.”

“And they say I’m the rude one.” You muttered under your breath.

“I can hear you.”

“You’ll survive.”

* * * *

The taxi pulled up in front of a modest two-story house, its faded paint and overgrown lawn gave it a cozy vibe. There was even a porch. Not that you knew what to expect, you’ve never lived in a house before - and frankly, you couldn’t wait to have your own kitchen even if it was just a big play pretend for the mission.

You and Bucky got out of the car, taking your heavy bags from the trunk. The taxi driver, who was an undercover SHIELD agent, nodded at the both of you before driving away, leaving you both alone to face the mission. You weren’t nervous, and neither was he. If anything, your only complaint was the fact that he wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary.

The neighborhood was quiet, and you could see a few people already looking curious at the new couple in town. Little did they know how much that man hated you.

Unlike you, Bucky was looking at the house with a critical eye, his expression almost unreadable. Not that you had ever seen him without that frown.

“What’s your complain now?” Your hands found your waist, and you looked at him waiting for an answer.

“Too many windows. A kid would be able to break in any second.” He said - he wasn’t wrong but if they chose this house, they must have had a reason. He looked at you for a second before motioning you to follow him as he made his way up to the front door.

“Home sweet home.” You said, walking inside.

“Stay here. I’ll do a quick check of the house to see if everything is alright.” You two just arrived and he already started to boss you around.

“I’ll come with you.”

But this wasn’t an option for him.

“Stay here.” He repeated more firmly than before.

“Ah yeah.” You raised your hands in surrender. “You don’t trust me.” You said, clearly mocking him. “Whatever, James, just be quick.”

You stayed there for about ten minutes before he finally came back, his expression didn’t change one bit. He gave you a simple nod, took the bags - his and yours - and walked upstairs again.

The silent mission begun, apparently, as you were sure he won’t utter a word until he was forced to. Fucking great.

You walked - rushed, immediately to the kitchen. It was, honestly, everything you’ve ever dreamed of. The sunlight was coming in through the huge window that made you also see the backyard, the countertops were made of wood, dotted with small appliances and cooking utensil. A modest wooden table was in the middle of the room and you imagined yourself, perhaps in another life, sitting there with the family you never met.

You forced yourself to walk out of there to find your husband, wherever he disappeared to. You walked upstairs, your footsteps echoing in the empty staircase, and looked in each room - the bathroom, a small library room, and laundry room.

But you found him in the bedroom, pointing a gun at the window.

“What are you-“

Bucky didn’t turn to acknowledge your presence, his focus solely on the window before him. Without saying a word or turn to explain what the fuck he was doing, he pulled the trigger; the gunshot didn’t make you flinch but you weren’t expecting him to do that.

Your eyes widened in shock, mostly because you had just arrived and he was already acting like a fool. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” You almost yelled, walking towards the window to close the curtains - and you saw that the bullet only left a scratch on the glass.

“Relax, it’s bulletproof as I suspected.” He said nonchalantly, shrugging.

“Suspected?!” You repeated, this man was an idiot. So much for being over a hundred years old. “For fuck’s sake, Barnes, someone could have seen it! Or heard!”

Bucky’s eyes finally flickered to hers. “If I am correct, this house is also soundproof. Stark’s technology is hard to miss.” He said with complete indifference, putting the gun down.

You just sighed in frustration, knowing full well that arguing with him was like arguing with a wall. As you shook your head, you walked out of the room and went downstairs again. You irritation was palpable even for Bucky that was following you with what you swore was a grin. That asshole.

You, once back in the kitchen, stood in front of the coffe maker. The familiar hum of the machine filling the quiet room as you prepared yourself a well-deserved cup of coffee. Not even half an hour and he managed to piss you off.

“What do you know about those SHIELD agents we were supposed to meet today?” You tried to keep your tone casual as you turned to face him.

Bucky watched her from his seat at the kitchen table. “Not much.” He replied curtly, his arms crossed over his chest in a defensive stance. Stuck with the person he trusted less in the entire State, he felt alone in that mission.

Maybe he was being stupid, but he couldn’t look past the way you served Hydra for all those years without ever questioning a damn thing.

You raised an eyebrow, your irritation raising at his dismissive attitude. “Helpful.” You remarked dryly, taking a sip of coffee.

His jaw clenched at your sarcasm. “I know as much as you do, Emma.” He retorted, his tone full of annoyance. “If I’m not helpful then neither are you.”

“Then let’s just hope they’re better than you.” You couldn’t help but say. “Wouldn’t want to work with reckless assholes for God knows how long.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with anger after hearing your remark. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Or what, Barnes?” Your own temper was rising to match his.

He was about to answer before the doorbell rang and his words died in his mouth. The bell rang in a distinct pattern - three times with quick breaks. It was a code that both you and Bucky recognized instantly.

The agents had arrived.

That also meant the mission had officially begun, and you both had to put and end to the reckless behavior and start being professional. That probably was going to be the hardest part of the whole ordeal.

Without uttering another word Bucky rose from his seat, the tension on his shoulders was visible. He made his way to the front door with you trailing just a few steps behind. The asshole didn’t even spare you a glance before opening the door.

As it swung open, you were greeted by the sight of two men standing on the doorstep, they were both dressed formally and you noticed that one of them had a small cut on the lower lip.

One of the two men was tall, even taller than Bucky, and he was very well built. His brown hair was tied in a neat man bun, and he was looking back at the grumpy Super Soldier with a small, amicable smile.

You edged closer to the doorframe trying to get a better look at the other man since Bucky had moved just enough to block your view.

He was definitely shorter than his companion, but there was something about him that seemed far more intimidating. Perhaps it was due to the fact that his piercing green eyes were locked on yours and, for a short moment, you thought you saw a small smirk playing on his lips before it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Clearing his throat, the shorter man broke the silence. “Barnes and Dayne?” He asked just to make sure, his voice was barely above a whisper to prevent anyone to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Mh.” Bucky responded, nodding in affirmation to the man’s words as he moved aside to let the strangers inside the house.

“What he meant to say,” You glared at your partner for the mission before continuing. “was yes, we are and you’re welcome.”

“Thank you.” The taller man shared a glance with the other one. “My name is Sam Winchester. This is my brother Dean.” He pointed to the shorter guy, who was scanning the surroundings.

Before you could introduce yourself too, even if it was clear that the two men already knew who you and Bucky were, Dean spoke first.

“There are too many window in this house. Even a kid would be able to break in.” He said. “Is this supposed to be your base?”

How ironic.

“Yes. And the windows are bulletproof and locked, though. Already tested it.” Bucky answered. “No one can break in.”

“The doors?” Sam asked.

“They can’t be opened in anyway from the outside and there’s a passcode to lock them for more safety.” You answered. “We’re good.”

“Great.” Dean spoke, walking past the both of you to go sit on the couch. “You guys don’t mind if I make myself at home? It’s been a long day.” He said, sending his brother a glare. That sounded quite personal.

Sam shot his brother a warning glance back, clearly trying to dissolve the growing tension. “Dean’s right.” He interjected smoothly, his voice calm as he went to sit on the armchair - purposely away from his brother.

Weird.

“Are you two gonna stay in here with us for the entire duration of the mission?” You asked.

“No, we momentarily live in the house next to this one.” Sam informed you.

“We’ve been following a series of disappearances in the area.” Dean begun, getting down to business immediately, as you and Bucky took a seat as well. “We were given fake identities and went undercover as FBI agents, most of the cases led to dead ends…” He made a pause, taking a stack of papers from his bag and tossing it on the coffee table so everyone could have a clear view of it. “Except this.”

You looked closer. There were some pictures of a woman, not much older than you probably, alongside some of her personal data. Cassandra Miller.

“This says she was a nurse.” Bucky spoke. “Hydra is after people that nobody would look for.”

Sam nodded, agreeing to that. “True.” He said. “But after talking with some of her colleagues, we found out she was the assigned nurse to treat a patient that was found dying near a river. The man had no documents on him and he was barely recognizable but still alive.”

As Sam spoke, Dean retrieved another set of documents from his bag and spread them out on the table. Amongst them were medical records, lab reports and handwritten notes.

“She found out some anomalies in his DNA and begun to dig deeper - apparently went a bit too far because she completely disappeared five days ago.” Dean finished Sam’s speech, looking at both Avengers.

Your heart sank as the weight of the whole situation settled on your shoulders - if what you were thinking was right, Hydra was probably looking for another you. Another person who could survive all the shit they injected and comply, instead they were just leaving a trace of bodies behind - and you only had found two for now. Who knows how many there where out there.

You knew all too well the fear and helplessness that those poor people must have felt - must be feeling now as you spoke. Being assigned on this case was already bringing your mind back to memories you wanted to forget but couldn’t even if you tried. That was a burden you’d carry all your life.

Memories of your own captivity - that you didn’t even know was one. The experiments, the torture, the constant struggle to hold onto your humanity- everything came back in an instant and you felt like suffocating. Innocent people were going through that and you were there, trying to make light of it all without even knowing where to begin.

Your eyes fell on the photographs and documents spread out once again, and you felt a surge of rage and sorrow wash over you. But then, you frowned.

You were kept a secret for fifteen years inside Hydra’s facility, no medial records of what they did to you existed to your knowledge. You, growing up in there, often saw other ‘patients’. You had seen things that probably not even Bucky had seen, and you knew Hydra never left pieces behind.

“Why,” You started, clearing your throat as you tried to ignore the fact that you felt like someone was squeezing it. “Why are they leaving the bodies out in the nature? Why aren’t they burning them like they used to?”

Bucky turned to look at you, a frown on his face. “What makes you think it was them? One of them was found still alive, maybe he escaped?” He didn’t believe his own words for a second - no one escaped Hydra. But he also knew it was unlikely for them to purposely leave a trace to follow now that the Avengers were looking for them.

You shook your head, dragging the picture of the man in front of him. “Look at his feet.”

Bucky did as you said and he let out a breath. “Found without shoes and no scratches on his feet.” He noticed. “He was left there on purpose.”

You nodded. “And they wanted us to know.”

As you stared into Bucky’s eyes for a moment, you missed the glance the two brothers gave to each other. As if they knew something more about this whole situation than you and Bucky could ever imagine.

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