#rethinking their relationship suddenly. i didn’t realize they were close. man

[crocodilenjoyer]

LUCCI CALLS KAKU AIBOU?? LIKE 相棒?????

[etherealeeknow]

the fwb rules

• rated m for mature

• pairing: fwb!hyunjin x fem!reader

• wc: 4.559

• tw: explicit language, light characterization of an insecure reader, unprotected piv sex (stay safe, lovelies!), fingering & oral (f), nipple play, cream pie— i think that’s all, please do tell me if you find more c:

• note: last time i said long fic isn’t my forte and this time i’ll still say the same hahahahaha. but still, i hope i don’t disappoint 🥺 please kindly note that english isn’t my first language. therefore, i apologize for any mistakes. feedbacks are always appreciated because i’d love to grow! thank you for waiting and enjoy 💞 pretty banner made by my bestie!! ilysm 😽😽😽

• tag list: @charlieshelves @es-kay-zee @formidxble @oh-my-sparkle @bobateastay @http-hyxnjxn @lyralurexrattle @hyunsluvv @healinghyunjin @sailorhyunjinz

—

what happened to the rules?

it didn’t start off like this. you can’t remember when exactly you started wondering about the five word question. all you know is that you were one bite away from gobbling a spoonful of jisung’s ice cream when it struck you: since when did you and hyunjin stop going by the rules? he’s been occasionally texting you out of the blue lately just to know what you’re up to, and today he even asked you to stay the night at his, and as much as you want to believe they’re all normal, again, it didn’t start off like this. from the beginning, you and hyunjin have come up with three rules so your relationship can work: one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking. but look at you now, lying naked and out of breath under his blanket while facing his ceiling, driving yourself insane over the haunted question. you have to get it off your chest somehow, but how? 

“hey, why so serious?” asks the culprit behind your overthinking, causing you to jump slightly over his sudden appearance and your hands instinctively pull up the blanket to cover your naked chest, which as a result, makes him chuckle. cute. “here. it’s my cousin’s,” adds the topless man as he sits on the edge of the bed and hands you a white shirt that even under the dim light, you can already tell won’t fit you.

“your cousin? the model? hyunjin, she’s tiny,” you utter, hands still gripping onto the blanket. “i’m—“

“you,” he cuts you off, placing a hand on top of yours while carefully glancing at you to make sure you there aren’t any signs of discomfort. “are fine, y/n. now hurry up. i’m sleepy,” he adds before letting go, leaving behind a lingering warmth on your knuckles.

nodding, you turn your back on him to change, and the room falls silent, causing you to hear how fast your heart is thumping even more than it should have. is it because you had too much coffee this morning? or it can probably be because the shirt is too tight that it’s cutting off your air circulation, right? right, of course. you tell yourself because as much as you dislike both reasons, they are still far better than having hyunjin as the cause.

once you’re done, hyunjin already has his back lying against the bedhead, his head tilting slightly to the side, avoiding the light coming from the night lamp on the bedside table, while his eyes bore deeply into yours. unbothered that he’s been caught staring, he averts his gaze downwards till they reach your chest and spot how your nipples are sticking out through the thin fabric.

“see? it fits you just fine,” he says, turning his vision back to your face as he opens his arms and motions them at you, only to have you remain in the same position with your increasing heartbeat.

“aren’t you gonna, uh, wear something?”

instead of a proper answer, all you get is his laugh—hyunjin’s contagious laugh that usually always succeeds in making you laugh too. but today hits differently. has his laugh always sounded this lighthearted before? no matter what the answer is, one thing for sure is that despite how sweet hwang hyunjin and his laugh are, they have never made your cheeks burn like this before, and this is forbidden. it’s against the rules.

“an hour ago we were naked while sucking each other’s face, y/n,” he finally answers after a while. “besides, i always sleep like this. now, come on,” he adds, repeating the same gesture, except this time his hands are open wider, eager to have you near him again because the space around him is starting to make him feel lonely.

complying with him, you fall into his embrace and hyunjin immediately lets his hands travel to the exact places of where they want to be—one around your head and the other around your waist. despite the room turning less cold with his warmth directly passing onto you, your heart and cheeks conditions remain the same especially since you can hear how hyunjin’s heartbeats are beating just as fast as yours when he lets you lay your head on his chest.

“hyunjin,” you call out, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt.

“y/n,” he replies, replacing the collar with his fingers instead, intertwining them with yours.

what happened to the rules?

“do... do fwb do these?” you ask, the bravery in you finally decide to show up, even just for a little.

“do this?” he asks back while squeezing your hand with all his might, as if he’s nervous.

no. not ‘this’, but ‘these’. not only the hand grabbing, but also the fact that he asked you to stay the night, that he’s cuddling you to sleep, and that you’ve been getting unusual symptoms over them until this very moment.

“yes, this,” you nod and hyunjin becomes muted, but his heartbeats are growing louder, and his grip on you has become tighter.

after what feels like forever, he whispers, voice slightly cracking, and hands getting a little colder, “yes. yes, they do.”

then the two of you become muted, but both heartbeats keep growing louder, and everything stays that way until sleep eventually takes over.

—

as a homebody, you’ve always against the idea of sleepovers. you believe home is the sweetest place and your own bed is the comfiest even when your mattress is older than a decade and your favorite plushie has had too many holes here and there. but waking up in hyunjin’s bed has broken your stigma—never in your whole life that you’d have thought someone else’s bed can provide you twice the comfort.

“looks like someone had a good sleep,” chirps jisung as he sits beside you, causing you to wipe off the smile on your face before going back to your laptop.

“wow suddenly my best friend’s a psychic?”

“hey, that’d actually make a great drama title!” he exclaims and you roll your eyes. “please do spill the tea though. what happened?” he adds.

“what happened?” you ask back, eyes still on the screen, but the corner of your lips are on the verge of breaking into the smile, knowing full well he’ll complain—which he does by lamely calling you a meanie.

laughing, you tell him nothing happened, but the way he rolls his eyes is a sign he’s not taking any of your bullshit. you are telling the truth though. besides spending the night with each other, nothing really happened, right? it was just another casual fucking session. yes, it was amazing, but that’s no news for jisung. the guy’s practically your wingman—setting you up with hyunjin was his idea because he believes you should, “live your life. have that dreamy college sex orelse you’ll regret it like my old man changbin!”

right on cue, a notification popped out on your big screen, and the sender’s name makes your heart pop too.

“aha, see!” jisung points at it. “y/n, where are you?” he reads out loud, earning yourselves all the eyes from every other student in class.

“oh my god, jisung. shut up!” right when you’re about to log out from the chat app, hyunjin sends another one.

“can i call you?” jisung reads once more and you’re only one second away from smacking his head, but your vibrating phone holds you back.

shooting jisung a glare, you make sure to close your laptop before leaving the class, answering hyunjin’s call even when you’re still half way through the door. right when you’re about to greet him hello, hyunjin beats you to it—his voice a bit raspy, but the softness in his tone still lies within, and it creates endless questions in your mind.

has he just woken up? so is this how he sounds in the morning? why is he calling?

and the list goes on because this isn’t like hyunjin at all. sure, he’s not validating the rules, but he’s breaking his character despite already alarming you to anticipate morning booty calls from him at times. he’s never actually done that though. 

“hi,” you reply, startling yourself with how small your voice came out.

“you left,” says hyunjin and you can hear him sighing from the other line, which somehow causes a slight pang in your heart, wondering if perhaps he is disappointed. “can you come back? wait, actually, let me go to you instead.” he says and you can hear the rustling sounds coming from his side.

“hyunjin, i have class. that’s why i left. i—” should you apologize? but why should you? casual, no strings attached, and no fucks given, remember? “i’m sorry.”

“oh.” hyunjin stops on his track before plopping back down onto the bed, smiling. “i’ll pick you up after class then. when will you finish?”

unconsciously, a smile creeps up your face too, but the realization hits you right after, then followed by the five word question, and you know—you know this is your guts telling you that now’s the time to ask him about it, but your heart hates confrontation. plus, wouldn’t it be rude to reply to someone else’s question with a question? “hyunjin, are you, uh, horny?”

just like yesterday, hyunjin laughs, and with the raspiness in his voice still present, he doesn’t fail to make you laugh along, but at the same time waking the butterflies in your stomach and makes you rethink your decision. mayhaps, you should’ve left him a note or told him that you’ll leave early in the morning; or even, you should’ve ditched classes today and stayed so when he wakes up, you can get him a glass of water, not leaving the boy uncared for like this. but who are you to do so? 

“isn’t it normal for a guy to have a morning wood?” he jokes before quickly adding that he’s not horny. “i just want to see you so let me go get you.”

pressing your lips together, you contemplate on whether you should let him. if you do, won’t you be turning whatever the two of you have right now into something far more complicated? but it’s only until hyunjin adds a desperate “please?” that all of your dilemma disappears, as if you’re being cast into his spell—“okay.”

—

while heading to the gate, you have the biggest urge to book a massage appointment. dodging jisung’s questions and running away from him after the first period was draining, but having to spend the day running back and forth between two buildings because thinking that volunteering as the lecturers’ teaching assistant was draining on a whole new level. other than feeling like your legs are gonna come off, your mind also feels like it’s gonna blow off—you can’t stop recalling all the things you need to start working on as soon as possible, but stepping into hyunjin’s car turns everything to 180 degrees.

you’d like to think that it’s because of the faint lavender aroma coming from his car freshener along with the heavenly cool air conditioner, but no. you know full well it’s because of the way hyunjin’s smile lit up, his eyes disappear into two small crescent moons, and his blonde hair which is becoming one with the warm orange sky that brings peace to your heart.

“hi,” he breathes out the moment you close the door, and you do the same except for looking at him, which causes hyunjin to furrow his eyebrows while speeding away.

the way home is silent, just the way you like it, but you know full well that it’s not hyunjin’s cup of tea. he doesn’t need to say it, his action is showing it all as he’s been fidgeting non stop, wiping his sweaty palm along his jeans while occasionally licking his plump lips. hyunjin’s a very vocal person. he’s talkative and loud—including in bed. you press your warm cheeks over the realization of your own thoughts, embarrassed. you can’t possibly suspect hyunjin for being horny in the morning when you yourself are being like this in the afternoon. it’s uncalled for.

noticing you from the corner of his eye, hyunjin calls out, asking you if there’s anything wrong, totally catching you off guard. what should you say? lying is not your forte, but being honest clearly isn’t the best option right now, at least, not before you shower and appear presentable in front of him—but wait, since when did that matter so much? a few months ago, you even fucked after you ran a marathon.

“y/n?” calls hyunjin for the second time.

“look, hyunjin, really, it’s okay if you’re horny. you can pull over and i can, uh, relieve you and i can just take the bus home after,” you spit out shamelessly while looking at him straight in the eyes, eager to get far away from hyunjin as fast as possible before you go out of your mind.

just like the night before, hyunjin laughs. and just like the night before, his laugh hits differently and it does nothing other than burning your already burnt cheeks for the worse.

“i swear to god, y/n, i’m not horny. i genuinely want to take you home. nothing more,” explains hyunjin, head straight at the road but eyes repeatedly stealing glances at you. “and nothing less,” he adds, voice barely audible but you caught it.

“o— oh.” is all you manage to respond before the ride quickly turns quiet and hyunjin’s hands begin fidgeting again, all the while you’re trying to decode what he has just said—what does he mean by genuinely wanting to take you home? do fwb do this too? what happened to no fucks given?—and it goes on until hyunjin hits the break in front of your old apartment building.

“we’re here,” says hyunjin, breaking the silence by unlocking the car door.

“we’re here,” you repeat after him, already opening the door and setting a foot out. “uh, thank you.”

“don’t mention it.” hyunjin shoots you his signature smile the moment you lower yourself to meet his eye level from outside the car; this time, you have no choice but to fall under his spell.

“hey, uh, you wanna come in?” you ask, biting your lower lip as a way to punish yourself for being so indecisive. one second you want to run away from him and the next second you want to be near him. come on, get a grip.

as if the punishment isn’t enough, hyunjin declines your offer, all while chuckling with his head thrown back. “for the third time, y/n. i’m not horny. go in and rest up.” 

“if you say so.” you shrug, giving him a small smile before turning around, making sure not to look back, only to fail when you hear the engine driving away.

—

you can’t quite tell—no, you can’t tell. you don’t get it. there’s an unexplainable empty space in your heart that is caused by hyunjin’s rejection. is it because you’re just not used to see him without having to fuck him? or is it because you’re hurt over the fact that he’s not in the mood to touch you? is it because of last night? is he finally sick of your flaws? things would probably be different if you had retouched your makeup or at least combed your hair before seeing him, would they? either way, you’re fully aware you shouldn’t be torn over your friend with benefits, yet your aching heart says otherwise.

and so when the doorbell rings only a few seconds after you get in and the figure you see through the peephole is no other than the man in question, you spare no time to swing the door open. hyunjin, in return, spares no time to lock his lips with yours right after he utters a brief apology. just like the way hyunjin sneaks his playful hands down your ass, you sneak your tongue in his mouth, and your action makes him smile into the kiss as he leads you back into the room and kicks the door shut with his long legs.

the way to your bedroom is actually pretty short, but with your tongues moving in sync, bodies pressing—glued, even, and eyes continuously closing in pleasure, the short way to your bedroom consists of endless stumbling, tripping, and bumping the door. once inside, you break the kiss and are about to undress yourself when hyunjin beats you to it, settling you down on the bed as he begins taking off your attire one by one ever so effortlessly. and in just a matter of seconds, his lips are back on yours again, floral scented hair falling and brushing against your cheeks, leaving you no time to wonder over the fact that it’s the first time hyunjin has ever undressed you. 

as the kiss continues, you can feel yourself gushing more and more that you start grinding on him mindlessly, needing to feel more than just his bulge poking you. your hands leave his blonde strands to tug on his hoodie, only to have him stop you—one hand around your grip and the other rests on your hip.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

“need you. need to feel you,” you mumble, desperation so visible through your cracked voice. 

“what happened to the girl who was all flustered to sleep with me last night just because i was shirtless?”

autumn nights aren’t supposed to be hot, but hyunjin has proven he has the power to make the impossible happen just with his words and mocking smirk. but the rising heat on your cheeks is nothing compared to the emptiness you feel below, clenching around nothing surely isn’t the best feeling.

“please, jinnie,” you whine, tugging on his hoodie once more, hips moving against his hold.

“fuck.” is all he manages to say before getting off the bed to disrobe himself—hoodie and track pants thrown across the room, now showcasing his toned body and thighs altogether as he hovers over you.

“please take this off too. it looks suffocating,” you say, index finger running faintly through the bulge forming from his tight boxer, making it stand up even more and hyunjin has no choice but to obey you. “put your hair up too please,” you add just when he’s about to dive right back in, and again, your wish is his command.

biting to pull off his hair tie from his wrist, hyunjin smoothly ties his hair back and you’re only given a few seconds to admire his feature before his plump lips coming in contact with your hardened nipple while he toys with the other using his fingers—rubbing and pinching, making your breath hitch over the sensation, fingers digging into his bare shoulders because you don’t want to mess up his hair, and hyunjin’s low grunts pretty much indicate he’s loving it.

“more, please. give me m—”

hyunjin retreats his hand and tongue away from your breast, moving them to your naked pussy,  drawing circles on your outer labia with his middle finger. he teases you just enough and quickly slides in his digit and at the same time sucks on your clit right before you’re about to complain, making you tingle from head to toe.

“you hear that?” he asks, voice muffled, the effect of being too tongue tied from licking every part of your heat, but finger working its magic perfectly, creating loud wet noises from your fluid. “drenched. my pretty y/n is drenched,” says hyunjin, and as much as you want to comment on him for the pet name, you’re too caught up on how his lips vibrate against you the moment he starts palming himself with his unoccupied hand. if he keeps it up, you know you would come undone there and then, and you don’t want that—not yet. so you ask him to stop and he instantly does as told.

“what’s wrong? did i hurt you?” there’s fear written across his expression and heard from his tone, but you’d like to believe your eyes and lips are just playing tricks on you.

“n— no. i just,” you pause to avoid his gazes, but something within you pulls your attention back on him. “i wanna cum with you inside me,” you confess, voice barely audible due to embarrassment; all this time, it’s always been hyunjin to say such things, but perhaps, all the strange tension lately has finally gotten the best of you. you hear him mutter a low “fuck” while his pupils shakes for a brief moment before they somehow appear a shade darker. licking his lower lip, hyunjin pulls you by your legs and rests them on his shoulders, and proceeds to align his tip with your entrance, once again teasing your throbbing core.

the moment you whine is the moment hyunjin pushes himself inside ever so gently, but the stretching still has you throwing your head back, while hyunjin letting our airy moans upon your walls clenching around him. none of you can tell how it’s possible for your vagina to remain so tight after all the countless fucking session for the past half year, but hyunjin doesn’t find that troubling. in fact, he lives for that and it shows from the way his eyes roll to the back of his head as he begins thrusting in and out of you—slowly but steady, veiny hands secured on your hips, vision goes back and forth from your half-lidded eyes to your parted lips.

hyunjin leans down to kiss you for a couple of seconds, and when he lets go, he quickens his pace—leaning down once more so his length can go deeper in you, hitting your g-spot. at that very moment, you mentally praise yourself for placing the bedroom mirror right across the bed. it presents you with the magnificent view of hyunjin’s rounded, firm ass bouncing rhythmically whenever he snaps his hips, and placing your hands around them, squeezing them, nearly makes you drool over the sight. with hyunjin constant thrusts, the familiar knot in your abdomen starts to bubble up.

“oh my god,” the two of you whimper in unison as hyunjin begins to lose his tempo, moves also grow sloppy, but never once misses your spot.

“y/n, i— ah— i’m so close. fuck,” he breathes out, sweat forming on his forehead, wetting his baby hair down to his neck and chest, and you can only drool helplessly at the sight.

“me too. please cum inside me, cum with me, hyunjin, please, please,” you beg, voice a pitch higher, almost sounds like you strain your throat, and it stays the same. when you feel hyunjin twitch inside you, your hands automatically reach for the bed sheet again, but it only lasts for a second before they’re being taken by hyunjin’s own hands—he has never done this. while intertwining your fingers, his cock twitches again and his eyes roll to the back of his head, jaw falls open as he calls out your name—you naturally do the same, fingers pressing flat against his white knuckles

“hyu—”

“cum, baby,” he cuts you off, averting his hazy eyes on you, and that’s all it takes for you to break—your orgasm washes over you like waves and you cum undone around hyunjin, shaking and mewling altogether while feel the wet coldness around your inner thigh. hyunjin follows right after, shooting his hot cement inside of you; the man can no longer keep his eyes open as he buries his face on the crook of your neck, his choked moans bring music right to your ear all a while his hot breaths bring goosebumps to your unrecovered body.

after riding out your highs, none of you move. hyunjin stays on top of you, his chest rises and falls according to your hard breathing. somehow, it’s calming you down, but it shouldn’t.

“hyunjin, you’re heavy.”

“oh, sorry,” he chuckles and even without looking, you can tell his eyes are smiling too. with his remaining strength, hyunjin pushes himself up and rests on your thighs to pull his dick out of you, momentarily admiring the mixture of his juice and yours dripping down your cunt before fixing his eyes on you to study your face—also something he has never done before. 

“i’m sorry,” he mutters a few moments later, eyes now on you.

tilting your head, you sit up, resting your upper body with your hands on the bed. “all of a sudden? i came? you always make me feel good.”

“that’s what i’m sorry about. i— i didn’t mean to— i mean, i—”

you reach out to him, gently patting his thigh. “hyunjin, calm down. this isn’t like you,” you whisper the last sentence, knowing that perhaps, now’s the time to talk things out, to stop whatever is going on, and go back to how things are used to be, maybe? your heart’s just been restless for too long and apparently, hyunjin seems to be in a similar situation too.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to keep using you like this. i genuinely meant what i said. i only wanted to take you home, but we ended up here and—”

“isn’t that what fwb do?” you pull your hand off his thigh, and a frown painted across his face as if he’s questioning your question. “that’s what we agreed on. we have our fwb rules, remember?”

“one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking,” says hyunjin, proving he has memorized every words to the back of his mind.

nodding, you carefully bring back your hand to his thigh, repeating the same movement you did before. “exactly. so you don’t have to be sorry. don’t worry, i’m not feeling used at all.” you end it with a smile.

hyunjin mirrors you, he smiles too; his eyes fall to where your hand is. “but what if i’m breaking them? the rules,” asks the boy whose cold hand is now on top of your warm one. “what if i like you?” his eyes find their way back to you, and that’s when you know. the difference between your temperatures; the difference between your smile and his—the sadness that lies within.

that’s when you understand. everything finally makes sense; every one of hyunjin’s unusual acts. the constant texts and calls, the undressing, the pet names, the facial expression, the hand holding.

what happened to the rules? feelings. that’s what happened. to hyunjin, it’s his feelings over the rules.

but you, what about you? the butterflies, the irregular increasing heartbeats, the flushing cheeks, the overthinking, the disappointment at some point.

“y/n,” hyunjin calls out and you don’t get to get back to him because he’s already an inch away from you, momentarily eyeing your lips before he closes the distance. once again, his blonde hair falls down, brushing against his cheek before meeting yours and it tickles you, but not in the same way as how his kiss tickles your heart; giddy.

what happened to the rules? unwanted feelings. that’s what happened. to you, it’s the unwanted feelings against the rules. and for now, the unwanted feelings are too strong for you to push him away, so you pull him close instead. for now.

—

gen’s masterlist

repeating this!! special note: HUGE THANK YOU for my awesome bestie for the banner 🥺💞💞 ily, bish!! thank you for being my beta reader too 😽😽😽

[todoscript]

prompt 100, todoroki, smut? first time/confession?

Always You.

Prompt | “All I know is that if you don’t tell me to stop I’m going to kiss you.”

Genre | SMUT. Fluff.

Pairing | Todoroki Shouto x Fem!Reader

Words | 5.2K+

Warnings | 18+. Smut. Oral. Penetration. Semi-public sex. Body worship. Characters are aged up. Feelings Revealed. Cuddling. 

Summary | Hearing your troubled thoughts about the daunting future ahead of you, Shouto finally realizes what you meant to him all this time.

A/N | I’ve been wanting to dabble with smut, so thank you Anon for this request (also I’m assuming you requested the prompt based on this list from my past drabble event). This is my first time posting e/xplicit content so beware of all the warnings. Other than that, please let me know your thoughts!

Big thank you to @sadistiks and @shoutogepi for beta reading! I really appreciate it! <3

For the longest time, since the very first year of his high school journey to becoming a hero, Todoroki Shouto knew that you were special to him. But he didn’t realize what these emotions meant.

At first, the feelings bombarded his thoughts like a haze—a screen of smoke he couldn’t see past. He initially discerned it as an affliction down his path, blocking his sight from the light at the end of his heroic odyssey. Yet even when he waved the murk away, he felt your spirit was still somehow manifested within him.

The darkness of the dim first floor greeted him when he arrived down from the elevator, the agony of no sleep pestering mind. The light shuddered back inside as he stepped out, a ding echoing throughout the quiet atmosphere that was the dead of the night. He trekked down the halls, past the kitchen, and into the common space where only a single flicker of candlelight met his vision.

However, when he approached closer, he noticed the fire wasn’t alone. There you were, sat on the couch with warm, soothing tea nestled in your hands.

“Y/n,” he called out, and you heard his voice quickly in the silence. You turned around, knowing well it was Shouto from the distinct husk in his tone and not your teacher Aizawa coming to reproach you for still being up so late.

“Oh Shouto, couldn’t sleep either?” you asked. He replied with a nod, which compelled you to pat the cushions on the couch. He took your offer and established himself into the light, sitting next to you.

For a moment, a gentle lull instilled itself into the atmosphere. You didn’t say anything to each other, but your presences were enough to soothe the strain in your bodies and release any disturbing thoughts plaguing your minds. It was an unspoken form of affirmation between you two that Shouto was oddly fond of. When you perched your cup of tea onto the coffee table, you finally cut the silence.

“I’ve been… thinking…” Your words drifted off, and Shouto removed his sight from the candle’s dancing fire to turn to you.

“About?” He poked the remark further.

“Our class. Our journey to becoming heroes,” you answered, folding your legs into you on the couch with your chin propped against your knees. “Soon, it’ll all be over.”

Your words lingered with distraught at the thought that within a few months left in your third year, the next step in your path will open forward, leaving a curtain to draw close on the current one you’ve walked upon for nearly three years now. It was unsettling. Realizing the habits you’ve established, and the faces you’ve been accustomed to throughout each day, will suddenly vanish within the instant you approached life after high school. It scared you as much as it did the boy by your side, which to him was strange.

It shouldn’t bother him as much. He’s worked himself up since he was a child, grinding sweat and rigor through his bones to achieve this goal. He’s known across his entire life that he’d eventually end up at this point and move further toward that dream of becoming a Pro Hero. Yet when you addressed the troubling notions out loud, he grew conflicted.

“That’s right. We’ll be walking on our different paths after,” Shouto said. It was then he realized the weight amassed in that single statement. That once the year is over, you won’t be ingrained into each other’s lives anymore. He wouldn’t get to see your smiling face greeting him every morning or engage in the compelling conversations you enacted between classes. His life would be different from then on out, and the idea of the emptiness carved into it after your departure left an ache in him, making him hollow.

“A-Are you ready for it? To move on and leave everything behind?” you stuttered as if anxious to receive his answer. Deep down, you wanted to believe the boy still desired to hang onto the present and the relationships woven into this fabric of time, rather than cut them off and start a new seam. However, you could not forget about his achievements and hard work, forged through sheer will and determination. He was amongst the top in your entire year, and you couldn’t neglect that he was destined for bigger and better things after. It would be selfish of you to anchor him down with these chilling notions of yours.

Yet as Shouto thought over the questions, he envisioned his trudge down this long winding road, and then remembered everything. He remembered all the times his eyes lingered on you, and the silent, reassuring exchanges you sent each other between infinitesimal moments. He remembered all the words you spoke to him when his spirits were down, recalling whenever he willingly sought out your presence just to be near you—next to you. And he remembered the heat on his body and the confliction he dealt with whenever he craved your touch as every thought of you ignited a blaze he wished you could douse out, lest his sense of reason be incinerated. 

It’s when he reached the end of this path, and the light peaked in its brightest form that he ultimately realized. The light was you. It was always you from the beginning. You were never the haze obscuring his journey, but the luminosity that guided his way, showing him to who he truly was and helping him experience all the joys on this path.

Shouto snuck a glance over to you while your eyes still lined downward at the quivering reflection of the cup of chamomile tea next to the candle. The single light source illuminated every crest beautified on your face, and he beheld the vulnerability within the moment as if you were the only thing on this earth. You made him happy and filled that void in his existence that plagued him before he arrived at U.A., like the missing piece of an incomplete puzzle. He could not fathom the world around him without you.

Shouto breathed a heavy sigh from his lips. Despite your doubt and suspense, his answer felt all too obvious to him.

“No, I don’t think I’m ready to move on just yet,” he conclusively admitted. When you perceived his answer, you loosened your legs clutched to your chest, and met his eyes with an astonished expression.

“Shouto, what are you saying?” You tried to urge him to rethink his words again, understand what they meant. Shouto, out of the majority of everyone in your year, should be more than prepared for the future to come. You’ve known the boy so closely throughout your three years together, but you couldn’t discern whatever could be troubling his mind for him to be afraid of taking that leap forward.

“There’s… something in this life that I’m not willing to let go of yet,” he cast his gaze to the small flit of the candle before shifting it to the glow of your irises. His hands reached out and entwined with yours, and the comforting touch of your warm skin gave him the fortitude to continue.

“You. I don’t think I’m ready to leave you yet, Y/n,” he told you, and in the quiet, the words nearly echo through your mind. Initially, you’re speechless at the confession, but you don’t pull away. In fact, you gripped his hands tighter, like maybe the Shouto in front of you was a mirage conjured by your lack of sleep. However, he’s real. The unwavering stare, the altering sensations clasped against his calloused palms, the resolute composure on his handsome features. They were all real. 

“Sh-Shouto… I—”

“I realized what you meant to me. You’re always on my mind because you’re the one thing in this life I can’t go without, the one person I won’t and can’t move on from.” Though a man of few words, he mustered the strength to utter this unyielding declaration. 

“I’m in love with you, Y/n,” he imparted the words he’s been meaning to tell you—the words that finally answered the confusion he felt all this time and lifted the veil that clouded him.

Your eyes shimmered, hearing the heart behind his affirmation. Your face shifted from a mien of confliction to one of acceptance, allowing yourself to wholeheartedly welcome the emotions he finally unshackled from the depths of his soul.

“Shouto, I… I love you. I think deep down, I’ve always felt the same, I just never knew if it was right for us to be together,” you said, and it obliged him to return an enlightened look while he slowly inched closer.

“But… What does this mean from here on out?” you tried to ask through a whisper, but the ceasing proximity between you two blanks your mind to only the attention of Shouto’s face drawing near, his cold breath tickling your lips.

“I don’t know. All I know is that if you don’t tell me to stop, I’m going to kiss you,” he warned yet didn’t stop to pause as his eager lips finally met yours in a searing sensation of emotions. Your mind adjusted to the caress of his lips, soon melding perfectly into his with a simple tilt of your head.

Shouto brought a hand up to hold your jaw while his other gripped underneath your thigh to adjust your position, now straddling him on the couch to allow your bodies to press together intimately. Naturally, your arms found their way around his neck while you continued mingling your lips for kiss after kiss in the empty common space, tongues dancing together. He palmed at every inch of your skin, traveling from the expanse of your naked legs to your ass, and then up to your clothed breasts. Through these motions, you grounded yourself against him and felt the growing shape beneath his sweatpants form against your covered cunt.

Your lips detached for a second. You stared into the evident lustful haze fogged in his fraternal twin irises, a playful grin on your swollen lips. “Are you sure all you want to do is kiss?”

He mirrored your smirk, hands lightly grazing your thighs teasingly. “Not even close, love.”

Hearing the endearing name caused a heat to pool in your lower-half, which continued to grow desperately hot while he embarked his mouth on a journey across the expanse of your neck. You winced at the array of fervent kisses left in his wake and noticed his hands busied themselves by rubbing circles against your torso to your hips underneath your sleeping clothes. He brushed up against your breasts, unrestricted due to an absence of a bra. His touch felt like fire, and sent you into dizzying desire. It wasn’t long until he finally tugged on the hem of your shirt. Taking the hint, you moved your arms up to allow him to pull the article of clothing off.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he muttered and wasted no time in admiring your bare upper body, tossing your shirt to the side. Though he only spoke of beautifying praises, he noticed your hesitance when you hovered your arms in front of him, cheeks growing vividly hot. At this, he took your hands in his and moved them away from obscuring the beautiful sight before his adamant, loving gaze.

“I mean it. You’re the prettiest thing on this earth, Y/n,” he assured, planting a kiss against each of your palms then settling them on his shoulders.

“And I’m going to make sure—” His words paused as his mouth attached to your skin once more.

“That your beautiful body—” He molded his lips against the underside of one mound, traveling upward.

“Knows all the things—” it eventually made its way to your nip that shivered and hardened through the exposure to the cold air, “I’ll be doing to it.”

Hearing those sensual words leave the mouth of a man usually so composed and calm made your mind scatter in a hazy daze that drenched you from your panties to the thin material of your shorts, undoubtedly wetting his sweatpants in the process.

“Mm… Ahh…” you breathed out a sigh of moans next to his ear thanks to his methodical movements, which sounded like a melody he would repeat over and over in his head for years to come. One of his large hands slipped behind you down your shorts to grip your ass, ignoring the clothing, and the other wandered to your breast that wasn’t occupied by the heated presses of his mouth. You tried to keep yourself anchored to reality and not drift off in the hot air of lust by gripping behind his head and weaving your fingers in his dual-colored tresses. Unknowingly, you pressed him further into you, and he gladly continued to indulge in his simulations.

Eventually, he parted from your body to sit back and admire his handy work, which were the marks adorned on your skin and the needy look on your face left in his wake. The glimmer of the candlelight behind you accentuated the outline of your figure, and he wanted to ingrain this pretty image into his head so badly.

“Sh-Shouto…” you whined, and his eyes perked up.

“What is it, love?” he asked, though his hands continued caressing your waist and thighs almost tauntingly, discerning the desire in your voice.

“I want…”

“Want what?” he pried on.

“You know what I want...” You bashfully eyed down his lap, fingers tracing below his shirt to the waistband of his pants, tugging.

“Hm, do I?” he jeered, and you cursed at how he dragged out your desires while falling further into his mischief from the way he resumed stroking the fever of your skin.

“Yes, you do,” you ground against his erection once more, hoping to spark a reaction. And in the end, you received one in the form of his hands gripping your hips to still your movements. 

“Fuck…” His brows narrowed tightly together from the shift that caused blood to spike through his cock. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want, love—what you need,” he finally assured, softly touching your cheek with the back of his hand before planting a peck.

“But first, I want a taste. Hands on the couch,” he ordered in the husky timbre of his voice, and you didn’t disobey, lest he draw out your pleasure toward a nerve-wracking pace your body couldn’t handle anymore. You moved off his lap and crawled to the furthest end to perch yourself against the couch’s arm, knees on the cushions, and bottoms faced toward Shouto.

He awarded your immediate compliance with his hands, dragging themselves down the skin of your back and descending toward the waistband of your shorts. However, to your chagrin, he only pulled off the first layer.

His eyes beheld the color of red while he jerked the clothing down your thighs, now met and widened at the sight of your rose-hued panties. He watched as you slowly turned your head to catch his amorous expression, the man kneeled behind you from the view of your ass emphasized by the flimsy, lace fabric. He admired how you glowed from the candle, and how the moonlight filtered through the windows of the common room, cascaded on the expanse of skin the firelight couldn’t reach, while your body was arched, ready, and willing for his and his eyes only. If you were a goddess, he’d worship you and visit your shrine for the rest of his life. No, scratch that, in Shouto’s eyes, no goddess or deity could ever compare to you.

“God, how is everything about you so perfect…” he breathed out, tone laced in utter affection. Your face blossomed crimson from his praises.

The candle at his side still offered him enough light to see the evident damp spot on the crotch of your panties. When he pulled them down, your slick strung from the lacey material to your lower glistening lips, which made him release a strained groan. You helped him remove the tainted articles of clothing by lifting your knees as he slid them down your legs, letting them pile in a heap on the floor.

“Even your pussy’s pretty…” he spoke the obscene words like they were second nature, but you couldn’t conjure anything in reply except a whimper when he dragged his fingers across your sex. He smeared your wetness on his fingertips, not even offering their full length into your heat.

“F-Fuck… please,” you begged, fidgeting in your spot to usher him to do anything more to stop the ache in your body.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, leaning over you and tossing your hair to the side to smother kisses on the nape of your neck. He then trailed his mouth down your back at an agonizing pace while his fingers continued to toy with your wet cunt using touches that could never climb you to the peak of your high. Soon his lips arrived at your asscheek, melding the smooches against your flesh while he dipped toward his desired destination.

Shouto leveled his gaze to your ass, grasping it firmly in his hands and spreading you open. The scent of your arousal invaded his senses. Your exposure to his intimate eyes made your cunt twitch in front of him, slick gathering and sticking to your thighs.

“Mm, so so pretty...”

However, as much as he wanted to dive right in and drink all your nectar, your cute whimpers drove him to tease you once more, only granting you the sensations of his breath fanned on your dripping sex.

“Baby, what do you want?” You couldn’t believe he had the nerve to ask. Still, you played along, albeit not nearly as patient as the man behind you.

“Y-Your mouth,” you answered, and you felt the thin smirk on his lips when he kissed your ass one last time.

“A nice answer,” is all he muttered before his tongue finally reached your aching entrance. He licked around you, his hold on your flesh tightened to bare your pussy to his entering appendage. At the feeling of his muscle along your silky walls, your nails started digging into the arm of the green couch, voice singing out unhinged.

“Careful, love, everyone’s still sleeping. We wouldn’t want them to hear now, would we?” he warned when he detached from your sex, yet was quick to dive in again. Clasping your hand over your mouth to mute the airy noises emitting from your lips, you remembered where you were—in an open and publicly used space. It especially became very apparent when the squelch of his mouth against you reverberated in the vast, empty area due to Shouto becoming a man unshackled by his passionate desires for the woman he loved. The last thing you wanted was for the boys on the second floor to wake up. Or worse, accidentally alert Mr. Aizawa.

As Shouto continued tasting your cunt, the heat coursing through your body was slowly boiling and longing to burst, your mewls edging to heavy moans past your hand. When your pussy started grappling around his tongue, he realized you inched closer and closer to release.

“Are you going to cum for me? Soak my tongue with everything you got?”

You hissed a squeal of a yes, along with a speedy succession of nods that was enough of a response for Shouto to help you reach your high. His motions transcended faster, and he added to the revelry by inserting a long finger into you, easily touching the particular spongy area inside that made you quiver. The overflowing sensations hollowed the sounds in your throat to mere hoarse throes of pleasure. His bind on your flesh grew firmer, like his feast on your cunt was the ambrosia he needed to revitalize his body. 

“Ah, f-fuck Shouto, I’m— I’m—”

“Do it, baby. Cum all over my face.”

The weighty lust in his words was the last fuel you needed to attain your peak. At last, your sex clenched across Shouto’s tongue, covering his mouth in your juices as your screams were suppressed against the couch arm you buried your face into, knowing your hand was too weak of a barrier to contain your loud, wanton cries. With you soon becoming limp due to the mind-blowing orgasm that coursed your body, you braced yourself on the couch’s arm. Turning your head, you observed the glistened sheen covering the lower half of Shouto’s face that he earnestly licked and then rubbed against his forearm. The heady sight resulted in your body growing hot and bothered all over again.

“Mm, you taste so delicious, love,” he told you before he eased forward across your form and captured your mouth for another searing kiss that allowed you to taste your flavor on his tongue. Shouto’s arms readily wove around your naked body, positioning you to lay comfortably flat beneath him on the couch while never leaving the fervid lip-lock. You hung an arm over his back, and a hand settled into his hair.

“Ah.. wait,” you managed to voice between the wistful union of your tongues, letting Shouto lean his forehead against yours to peer into your eyes.

“What is it?”

“You’ve been doing all the work tonight. The least I should do to repay you is give you some pleasure, right?” you said, attempting to reach lower toward the bulge keen on his sweats. Yet Shouto halted you with a quick hand on your wrist.

“It’s alright, Y/n. I want to use this night to appreciate and love you,” he stated, bringing your hand to his lips as his gaze never moved from yours. “And besides, we can do that next time.”

Next time? You wordlessly repeated the phrase, mind trying to fathom what this passionate night would spark in the aftermath for you two.

Even with everything ahead of him, he still desired to be with you—to love and cherish you. Now that you’ve both admitted to the feelings concealed within yourselves for so long, there wasn’t any way Shouto could just let you go. One way or another, he’d carve another path down his odyssey where you two would walk together, and he could forever bask in your light.

But for now, he needed to tend to you and satiate his lust that has thoroughly built up throughout the heaty progression of the night, his cock painfully taut in the bounds of his clothing. At last, he granted his body the small bit of freedom it craved by removing his shirt and sweatpants, leaving his skin bare to the air like yours. Raking your eyes over his form scrupulously, you bit into your lower lip at the expanse of firm muscle lining every inch of his frame. The light beside you seemed only to enhance every marbled crest delved across his features. Those three years of fierce hero training committed wonders on his body, and you were eager to put your hands all over him.

However, your mind was blanketed into a haze when he pulled down his briefs—soiled by a blotch of his precum—allotting you with an unhindered view of his cock standing to attention. Shouto lowly chuckled, noticing the speechless expression taking over your face. His hand wholly stroked his stout manhood.

“Like what you see, baby?”

Your response is reduced to a quick nod, still dumbstruck by the length of his dick and generous girth when knowing he was soon to be inside you in mere moments. Shouto took his position in front of you again. He spread you out with as much room as the green couch of the common room could offer you two. You kept resonating out whimpers from your lips, and he reveled in those sounds while preparing to align himself to your entrance, his eyes fogged with unrivaled yearning for you. To say he’s dreamt of this day—where you’re hot, needy, and naked in the wake of his lustful desires—would be an understatement. No kind of imagination could beat the real thing, with the genuine noises you produced and the way your slick felt against the head of cock as he slowly pushed himself forward. Watching each inch of his dick gradually slide inside and experiencing the tightness of him and his love coming together did many things to him. The sensation was beyond incredible.

“Mm! Fuck!” you cried out in a whisper of a yell, immediately anchoring yourself by wrapping your arms around him when he lowered his upper-body to you. The stretch of his girth induced a pleasurable burn in your stomach that threatened to seize your entire being. 

“Argh… Love, I’m right here— Fuck, you’re so tight—” he cursed at your warmth firmly enveloping his cock, struggling not to let the heat of the moment devour his reasoning and just plow away at your body. No, he needed to go slow and not hurt you, let you adjust to his size. Thankfully the wetness simulated when he ate you out aided the process, and soon his entire length was sheathed inside you.

You laid there trembling over the deep sensation, but the pain managed to diffuse quickly. “I-It’s OK… I’m alright now,” you murmured to him, the circles he rubbed into your skin soothing a bit of the tension harrowed in your body. You tilted your head so your lips were sheer centimeters from his ear, whispering out in a soft, heady tone that was breaking his rationale.

“Please fuck me.”

That was all he needed to begin his hard succession of thrusts. His cock felt along all the crevices of your walls. He grunted out praises and affections for you in between each drive into your core. Fuck, every part of you was like heaven and he wanted—no—needed to indulge in all you could give him. You struggled to find your words, voice hoarse and diminished to frail moans that he heard every trace of from the proximity between you, practically instilling the harmonies into his mind.

“I love you, Y/n, fuck I love you so much.” His bewitching utterances spilled from his lips without a second thought for all he’s thinking about is you.

“You were always the light that— ah— guided me... Always the one I could come to…” His thrusts continued relentlessly even as he bent toward your neck to meld his mouth on it for a second. “You were always the one, Y/n. It was always you.”

At all his love rained down upon you, your grip on his body grew tighter while you attempted to muster out some coherent words, despite each deep impulse of his cock making you envision stars.

“Mm, ah, l-love you too— Mmph—” You cut off with a scream that was luckily muted by Shouto joining his mouth to yours the moment he reached your pleasurable spongy area again. He continued his onslaught in that spot, knowing it was the erogenous zone in your body that made you writhe and shriek for him. White began to shroud your sight every time he pounded there. It wouldn’t be long until the simmer you built to a boil would be ready to burst again, your pussy starting to clench around his length desperately.

“Shouto, I’m gonna c-cum..!”

“Fuck, me too,” he replied to your frantic pleas and savored the sting of your nails raked down his back, tightening his hold on your spread legs. “Together, baby. Cum with me.”

With you both teetered toward the edge of release, he began pistoning his hips forward at an unbridled pace, the smack of your skins echoing so vividly in the space. Spit gathered in the back of your throat as Shouto did his very best to snatch every mewl and moan resounding from your lips. The noises vibrated across his tongue while he groaned back, thrusting forward in each succession. Eventually, the final scream tore from your throat, ripping into his mouth. Your body convulsed in a fit of overwhelming pleasure across every nerve and your intense orgasm was the catalyst he needed to cum.

In a single deep, quick thrust following your peak, his climax surged through him, and he came undone. A low grunt reverberated in him as he buried himself in you and coated your walls in hot spurts of white, the lip-lock remaining fervent throughout his orgasm and his hand seeking yours at the last minute to twine together in love and passion.

Through the whirlwind of your fucking, the candle on the coffee table eventually blew itself out while you both came down from your highs with ragged breaths and sweaty bodies. Shouto lovingly kissed your temple, caressing down your sides in calming motions. You returned the gesture by pecking his chest and rubbing the muscles of his broad back. The two of you simply laid there, tangled together, basked in the glow from the intensity, with nothing but the glimmering moonlight descending your naked bodies.

“Mm, Shouto?” your voice is only a hushed murmur in the tranquil atmosphere.

“What is it, love?” His caring touch did not cease when he whispered a question back, eyes pinpointing your own despite the darkness.

“As much as I just want to lay here and cuddle with you, we can’t stay here mister,” you admonished, thankful that you recalled where you were before you ended up drifting off into sleep on this couch. It would be an absolute nightmare had you awoke the next morning from the screams of your classmates at the sight of you both naked.

He let out a deep chuckle, likely conjuring the same thought as you though not acting nearly as frantic as he should be. He lifted his upper body off the cushions. “Shall we go to my room then?”

You nodded. At that you both gathered your clothes that were thrown carelessly in heaps on the floor and got dressed. You made sure no suspicious traces of you remained, then silently took to the elevators to ascend to the fifth floor.

It’s in the confines of Shouto’s room that you reunited your bodies again underneath the comfortable blankets of his futon. His left side provided just the right amount of warmth to lull your nerves. You relished in his particular musky scent with him so close and being surrounded by all his familiarities, cuddling into him.

Perceiving the rhythm of your even breaths against him imbued Shouto with a sense of peace. He couldn’t help but pull you toward him to softly kiss your forehead. At the tickling sensation, you giggled and exchanged a delicate kiss of your own on his jawline. For a brief period of time, that calming silence you two were far too familiar with enveloped the mood as you wordlessly traded placid touches across each other’s arms and backs. Ultimately, the quiet is interrupted when you speak up.

“Are you.. still scared about the future?” You brought back the query that set off the steamy chain of events. Shouto didn’t speak for a moment, inhaling a breath until you indicated his resolution through his hold on you growing stronger.

“No. No, I’m not scared,” he told you, continuing without a single hint of uncertainty in his voice, “Because even when we move onto the future, we’ll find each other again. You’re my light, Y/n, and I’ll always come back to you.”

At his conviction, you finally let the weight of those harrowing notions lift themselves from your body that night, letting you sleep soundlessly in the arms of the man you loved.

[krappykawa]

ಌ i mildly like you more than like (p.1)

— in which an incessant fan girl, a kiss, and a little bit of denial makes oikawa tooru realize he might mildly like you more than like

description. you’ve been in love with oikawa tooru for longer than you can remember. having known him for the better part of nearly 11 years, you’ve come to accept that you’ll never be more than a best friend to him. but with the help of a few irritatingly persistent fangirls and a kiss that was only meant to drive them away, a tale of unrequited love might just prove to be something more. 

warnings. language

word count. 4.2k

oikawa tooru x f!reader, childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, some angst

parts. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

author’s note. i started writing this a few weeks ago and it was originally just going to be a one-shot but it got almost up to 10k words so i just decided to split it up HHSKFJ

Oikawa Tooru has perhaps one of the strongest drives when it comes to hard work. 

His tenacity is a thing of nature, something that awes you time and time again, no matter how many times you’ve seen him pick himself up before. It might be one of the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. 

But despite how in-tune he is with his senses on a mental standpoint, his Achilles’ heel lies with his inability to pick up on the signs his body gives him when it's had enough. Well, he can, but he just chooses not to listen. 

His first encounter with a crack in that heel came in his first-year, where you had to stand on the sidelines and watch as he fell to the ground during a game with a resounded sweep of gasps around the gym. That injury benched him for more than half the season. 

It was from that point on that you and Iwaizumi decided that if Oikawa wasn’t going to take care of his own body, then it would be up to you two to make sure his head is still above water. 

So it doesn’t surprise you when your phone flashes with a text message from Iwaizumi during one of your shifts at the bakery. 

1 new message: iwa (´,,•ω•,,)♡

Received: can you come pick up shittykawa

“Tooru?” 

A figure sits slumped against the benches in front of Aoba Johsai high, his eyes closed as he lays back. There’s something beautiful about the way that he looks almost ethereal in this relaxed state, the most relaxed you’d seen him in months. When he hears his name from your lips, he slowly blinks and sits up, the aura of relaxation falling from him. 

You almost regret having said anything in the first place when he puts up his guard the moment he sees you.

“Y/N-chan!” An easy smile falls between his lips, one that could’ve easily fooled anyone else. He always was very good at portraying happiness and contentment, especially when he’d been followed everywhere by people that only really want to see Oikawa Tooru, popular ladies’ man with charm that could make your mother swoon. 

But you’re one of the select few that knew him before he learned that his charm was a crucial asset in his arsenal. You knew him at his highs and his lows, so the convincing smile on his lips doesn’t convince you in the slightest. That’s because you notice the way his arms seem to sit limply in his lap and the way his eyes convey fatigue rather than joy. You also know that Iwaizumi called you here for one thing. 

“Don’t Y/N-chan me. Iwa texted me.” 

Oikawa’s facade seems to fall at that, replaced with a troubled expression. He brings his right hand up to wipe at his face in frustration. “Listen, I don’t know what he may have said, but he’s exaggerating. I’m fine.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He can’t seem to meet your eyes. “Well, that’s a lie considering that you’re out here right now and not in that gym,” you say matter-of-factly. 

“He physically dragged me out here!” Oikawa whines, throwing his hands in the direction of your school’s gym. 

A bemused chuckle leaves your lips as you move to sit beside him on the bench. Oikawa moves his bag to give you more room to sit, but you don’t move any closer. “And when has that ever stopped you?”

Oikawa getting kicked out of practice by Iwaizumi and even on select days, by their coach, is not an unusual occurrence. Iwaizumi has forcefully dragged Oikawa out of the gym before. Each and every time, Oikawa just marched right back in, despite Iwaizumi’s rage and his coach’s warnings. Even when his extra practice hours cause detrimental effects to his knee, Oikawa never seems to back down. 

It was something both you and Iwaizumi had grown used to in your years of friendship with Oikawa -- his incredibly stubborn determination to somehow work himself to the point of bad health. 

That’s how you know something different has happened today, because Oikawa is sitting out here on a bench rather than arguing with Iwa about how “a few more serves won’t hurt him!” (though they most definitely do, and Oikawa never seems to learn). 

You turn your head to look at him. He’s quiet now, though he still doesn’t meet your eyes. His gaze is instead focused on a dog that’s running in the park opposite the school. You know that he’s avoiding confirming your accusation. 

When it doesn’t seem like he’s going to talk anytime soon, you sigh. “All I’m saying is that if you really believed that you were fine, you would be using all your blood, sweat, tears in order to find a way back into the gym. Especially since the qualifiers are coming up.” You lean back against the bench as well, letting your eyes watch the dog happily run with its tongue lolling out of its mouth. “But instead you’re here, sitting on a bench in the afternoon. And from the looks of it, you had no intention of heading home.” 

He still doesn’t turn to look at you, the only indication that he even heard you is the mild tick in his jaw. You try not to think about how perfectly sculpted his side profile is.  

When he finally does speak, he still avoids your accusation of his fatigue and instead asks, “Why did Iwa-chan call you here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be working at the bakery?”

You shrug. “Business was slow. Besides, my boss likes me enough to let me go early today. He said I’d have to work overtime this weekend though.” 

At that, he finally turns to look at you. In the split second that you glance at him, you catch the guilt in his gaze before he looks away again. “You shouldn’t have come. You already overwork yourself being the only decent baker besides your boss that works there.”

A smile spreads on your face, your tone teasing. “Oikawa Tooru wants to talk to me about overworking myself?”

“I’m serious. You work too hard at that bakery for the measly amount that they pay you. Don’t think I don’t notice the way you try to cover your under eye circles with makeup.”

You feel your stomach jump, the familiar feeling causing your lips to tug upwards lightly. Tooru has been one of your best friends ever since you moved into the house across from his when you were seven years old. You hadn’t known when it happened, but you had come to school one day last year and just suddenly knew that your feelings were no longer limited to platonic when it came to the brown-haired volleyball captain. It’s in moments like these where you wonder how he hasn’t managed to figure your feelings out, considering how observant he is of everything else about you. 

“Yes, well I’m sorry that we can’t all look like we spawn from a god like you do. It’s seriously unfair how you can still look like that when you get even less sleep than I do.”

There’s only a hint of teasing in his voice when he says, “You think I look that handsome?” He turns to face you again, and this time there’s a blink of surprise lurking in his chestnut eyes. Especially now, with the sun casting golden glows on his hair and skin, he looks beautiful to you. 

Painfully, it reminds you about how unrequited your feelings are. Not that Oikawa has ever outright rejected you or even acknowledged knowing anything of your feelings, but him reciprocating your feelings didn’t even cross your mind as a possibility most days. Not with the group of girls that are always vying for his attention; not when his ex-girlfriend was what everyone thought was his perfect match; not when he hadn’t even attempted a committed relationship since Yua-san broke up with him all those months ago.

“Y/N?” His voice drags you out of your train of thought. You realize that you had been staring at him this entire time. 

You play off your thoughts with a roll of your eyes and turn your head back towards the park. “No,” you lie. “I just hear comments like that from your fan club all the time.” 

He nods lightly, his eyebrows creasing. “Right. Right, of course.” You’re about to ask about the odd tone in his voice when he speaks again. “You never did answer my question. Why did Iwa-chan send you here?”

“He wanted me to make sure that you actually went home instead of finding somewhere else to practice,” you say. A chuckle escapes your lips. You’re happy for the change in topic. 

“I am not that hard-headed!” You raise a brow at him. He pouts. “Fine. Maybe a little.”

“A little?”

“Oh come on, Y/N. Now you’re just being mean!”

“Yeah well, it’s payback. You’re a real pain in the ass.”

“In your ass, I hope.” 

You try to keep the blush from your cheeks as your mind takes you in a completely different direction. Suddenly, the space between you two seems too small. “You might want to rethink what you just said.” You try not to stare at his mouth as it falls open, your mind still invading your thoughts with images that you should not be fantasizing about when he’s sitting right beside you. 

“Wait.” Oikawa’s eyes go so comically wide that you almost forget your own embarrassment. “Jeez, that did not come out in the right way. Not right at all.” For what seems like the millionth time, he looks away from you, though this time it seems to be out of his own mortification over what he just said. There seems to be a blush to his cheeks, but you very well might have just imagined it. 

You let out a laugh, your arms coming up to clutch at your side. “I cannot believe that you’re supposed to be the big hotshot volleyball player that every girl has a crush on. There is not a charming bone in your body. I refuse to believe it.”

Oikawa lets out a small chuckle. “I don’t have to charm you when you already love even the uncharming parts of me. But if anyone asks, I am completely perfect. There are no uncharming parts to Oikawa Tooru. Don’t you dare spread false rumors, Y/N-chan!”

An amused snort leaves you at his last three sentences, but you decide to respond on the first part of his words. “Me? Loving you? Very unlikely.” You tease, trying your hardest to keep a straight face when Oikawa begins to pout. 

“If you don’t love me after all these years I will actually start crying right now and then those girls that follow me everywhere will come for your blood for making me cry.”

You chuckle again, catching yourself before you roll your eyes again. Next to you, Oikawa has his arms crossed with a convincing pout sitting on his lips that makes him look like a child. You smile despite yourself. “Okay, okay keep the dramatics to a minimum.”

“Then say it.”

“Say what?

“Say that you love me.”

You feel a small pang as you plaster a smile on your face. “I mildly like you more than like,” you say, not really sure if you’d be able to say those three words to him at this point in time. Not when you know that they’re true.

Oikawa’s pout deepens, but you’re adamant on not saying more. 

“That’s all you’re getting from me, Crappykawa.” Suddenly you find yourself amused at the way you managed to sound exactly like Iwaizumi. It hadn’t occurred to you that you’d spent so much time with him.

“Call me pretty and I’ll drop it.”

“You’re so needy sometimes, you know that?”

“Very much aware, Y/N-chan. As if you and Iwa-chan would ever let me forget.”

An eye roll comes easy to you and this time you don’t try to stop it. At this point, an eye roll is almost like a natural reaction to anything Oikawa says. “Fine. I’ll admit you’re not bad too look at.”

“Not great, but I’ll take it,” he concludes. “I can slowly feel the crack in my ego being restored.”

“If you want to be complimented please go seek out the never-ending stream of girls and guys that come your way hoping for even an ounce of your attention.” You hope that he doesn’t notice the mild bitterness in your voice. “I’m almost positive that they’ll be willing to tell you just how pretty you are and how everyone in the world should be in love with you.”

“They should be, shouldn’t they?” Oikawa bemuses.

A laugh leaves your lips despite your efforts. “You are insufferable sometimes. I don’t understand why I’ve kept you around for so long.”

“There you go with the insults again,” he tskes. “Have you and Iwa-chan been spending time together without me?” 

“Iwa and I are friends you know?”

“Yeah but you’re supposed to be my best friend,” he pouts. 

“You already said that line to Iwaizumi yesterday when he opted to carry me instead of you.”

“Yeah, well … I met you before he did!”

“Because you threw a volleyball at my head!”

“It was an accident!”

Laugher spills from both of your lips at the memory. It isn’t until Oikawa’s hair brushes upon your shoulder during his laughter that you realize that the space between you and Oikawa had increasingly gotten smaller. He’s so close that your thighs are only centimeters apart. 

As your laughter dies down, Oikawa’s bubbly personality begins to slip once more and the fatigue on his face becomes more evident. Eventually, he rests his head on your shoulder. You feel your stomach flutter pleasantly at his proximity. Even now, you can smell the cologne he regularly wears, the one you helped pick out back in first-year that he’s worn ever since. 

Once the silence lasts for a few moments, you finally attempt to ask him about practice once more. “Are you finally going to tell me why you didn’t fight back when Iwa threw you out of practice?” 

He sighs. “I guess you can say that I’m a little bit tired. Plus my knee hurts like all hell has reigned down.” His voice is so much different from just moments before that it’s hard to believe that they come from the same person. 

“You’re exhausted,” you say. It’s not a question, but more of a definite statement. 

“More or less,” he responds quietly. 

This time, it’s you that sighs. “Just … be careful. I get that you want to beat everyone and go to Nationals, but you’re no good to your team if you fuck your knee up so badly that you can’t play.”

“This year is our last chance,” he mumbles. “I just don’t want to look back later and wish that maybe I’d practiced just a little more.”

“You can’t beat anyone if you’re sitting on the bench from an injury that you got from overworking yourself.”

Oikawa winces at the tone in your voice. You almost feel guilty. Almost. 

“You’re going to work yourself to death. Iwaizumi and I aren’t just going to stand by and watch you dig your own grave,” you say softly. “For his sake, at least. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’ll try,” he says. For some reason, you believe him.

The two of you sit there in silence once more, the wind blowing lightly on your hair and the sounds of a busy town echoing around you. You wish that you could bottle this moment up and keep it with you forever, even if it’s only a testament to how much Oikawa values you as a best friend and nothing more. 

The thought makes your stomach drop in the slightest bit. It’s usually easy to contain your depth of feelings for Oikawa when the air around you two is lively and joking, but you’ve found over the years that quiet moments like these are the ones that really tear at your heart. 

He’ll never know the extent of your feelings for him, and you’re too afraid to wonder what would happen if he did know. 

Oikawa turns his head only slightly to look up at you while still continuing to lean on your shoulder. “You okay?” 

You give an almost imperceptible nod. “We should head home. I don’t know what Iwaizumi might do to you if he finds you out here after practice ends,” you say. 

Oikawa nods and detaches his head from your shoulder. 

The two of you have only walked a couple of meters when you hear a group of girls squeal from not too far away. Oikawa tenses from beside you. 

“Your fanclub found you,” you say.

“I’m aware.”

He doesn’t make any move to look back at them or stop. Instead, his pace seems to speed up. 

You furrow a brow. “You don’t want to talk to them? Thought you loved their attention?”

“Ouch. You really know how to wound a man, Y/N-chan,” he says with a small smile on his lips. You take notice of the weariness in his features. “But while I do enjoy them feeding my very justified ego, I am far too fatigued to deal with them.”

You nod and continue to walk beside him. The less interactions he has with his fan club, the better your mood will be. Besides, you weren’t going to fail Iwaizumi by not doing the one thing he asked you to do and not take Oikawa home. 

A giggle reaches your ears once more, and you sneak a glance behind you. The girls are talking amongst themselves, but still obviously walking in the direction you’re headed in. 

“Well, what do you wanna do? Cause they’re coming.”

Oikawa sighs and you notice a tick of irritation in his clenched jaw. You can see a million thoughts going through his mind, but before you can ask him about them, he reaches out to grab your hand.

“Is this okay? I’m just hoping that they’ll leave me alone if they think that you and I … uhm.”

Oikawa’s hands are long and calloused, but they feel nice as his fingers intertwine with your smaller ones. You try hard not to let the little gesture get to you. “Yeah … yeah of course.”

The two of you fall into silence again, mostly due to his fatigue and your inability to form coherent words that don’t have to do with his hand in yours. You’ve held hands with Oikawa before, but it was never with the intent to make you two look like a couple. You wish more than anything that he would break the silence before you blurt out something that you don’t want to. 

Your wishes are answered when Oikawa asks, “They’re still following us, aren’t they?” Oikawa still doesn’t look back as he says it.

In your short reverie you had forgotten about the girls behind you. You sneak another glance at them and find that Oikawa’s assumption is correct.

“Yeah, they are.”

Oikawa makes an incoherent noise. “Y/N-chan, could you be a dear and describe what they look like? I have a feeling I know who exactly they are.”

You turn back again, and really take a good look at them. They’re pretty. Really pretty, you think. You wonder for a second what they could’ve done to make Oikawa so adamant on not speaking with them. 

“There’s three girls. One with cropped red hair, one with long blonde hair, and one with brown hair in a high ponytail.”

“Oh, it’s them again. I don’t know what to do to get them to leave me alone at this point,” he sighs. 

“Who are they? What’s going on?”

His grip on your hand tightens. “Ichika-san and her friends. She sent me a love letter about a month ago. I tried to let her down easily, but it seems that she has yet to give up.”

“This girl is your stalker?”

“Not quite. At least, I hope not.”

The noise from behind you two gets increasingly louder. A giggle echoes on the mildly empty street and you catch Oikawa’s name being whispered between their conversations. Now that you’ve found out about what they’ve been putting him through, your annoyance spikes. 

“Not to sound paranoid or anything, but I’m not keen on these girls finding out where you live.” 

Oikawa is quiet for a moment, his brows furrowed in indecision. It seems that he makes up his mind when he turns his head to look at you. “Kiss me.”

Your step momentarily falters. 

“What?”

He shakes your intertwined hands. “We’re already holding hands. They might get the memo if we …”

“Oh.”

“I .. I mean only if you want to. You don’t have to. I just figured that .. nevermind. It’s a spotty plan. They might still not leave us alone and --”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.” You weren’t going to pass up a chance at kissing him, even if it’s only for a diversion. This doesn’t seem like such a bad idea anyways — you’d long since given up on him reciprocating your feelings, and this way you can kiss him while saving yourself from the possible embarrassment of rejection. 

“You will?”

“Where’s the harm? It’s just a kiss right?” You can barely hear yourself talking over the beating of your heart. “Besides, it could work.”

Oikawa shoots you a grateful smile. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready then.”

You try to shake out your nerves and instead focus your time in looking at your surroundings. The sound of giggling is still in close range when you spot a tree nearby. It’s still pretty out in the open, but not so much that you and Oikawa might draw stares, at least not from anyone that isn’t a part of the group of girls behind you. 

Gathering enough courage to not insanely mess this up, you tug on Oikawa’s hand to drag him with you in the direction of the tree. You make sure that you’re still in the line of sight of the three girls when you snake your arms around Oikawa’s neck and pull him down. 

His lips are softer than you imagined, and you’ve imagined kissing them more times than you’re willing to admit. Pleasantly, he tastes like oranges, which you don’t quite understand, considering that you can’t seem to remember him ever being fond of oranges. But then again, you can’t quite think of anything besides the feeling of his lips on yours.

Your lips move fluidly against his, soft but not entirely without passion. It takes everything in you to not kiss him with the force that you want to be kissing him with. 

Hands come down to grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him, gently placing a hand on the small of your back. You run your hands through his hair and wonder to yourself why you hadn’t ever played with his hair before. If you ever make it out of this with your senses still intact, you’d make playing with his hair a part of your regular routine.

He makes a small noise against your lips when you make the mistake of pulling a little too hard on his hair. His grip on you tightens. 

You don’t know how long you two stand there, lips locked with each other, but Oikawa doesn’t make any move to pull away. Instead he deepens the kiss by running his tongue against your bottom lip and pulling you even closer. You stifle a noise that threatens to come from deep in your throat. One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek and tips your head so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth. He has fantastic lips, you think. 

It’s only until you feel the air in your lungs begin to dwindle that you force yourself to pull away. The kiss lasted for longer than you expected, and by the way you pant with every breath, it feels like a kiss that the rest of the world should not have been privy to. 

You keep your eyes closed for a moment more, wanting to savor the moment for just a little longer. The moment you open your eyes, you’ll have to come back to the reality that this was just a one-time thing. You’ll have to come back to reality and remember that this kiss likely doesn’t mean anything to him. 

Slowly you open your eyes, and find that Oikawa’s already staring at you intently. His breathing comes out staggered, and his eyes have turned a few shades darker. What used to be a soft chestnut brown looks almost close to black. In them, you notice a flicker of an odd emotion that looks too familiar, but you don’t want to hope for anything. 

You slide your hands down to his chest. His hands are still planted on your back and face, touching you both gently and carefully. “Did it work?” Your voice comes out small.

He seems to wake up from his trance then, and turns to look in the direction that the girls were before. You look behind you to see one of the girls running away with her head in her hands. Her two friends follow after her in an attempt to console her.

“I think it did,” he says. And what he says after is so quiet you almost believe that you imagine hearing it. “In more ways than one.”

part two will most likely be up on thursday next week :)

[imagineyourworld]

Hey there! Could I request g. with Luke Skywalker with an inquisitor reader? Congrats on reaching 100, can't wait to read more of your work!

Hi,

Thank you so much <3

That's a really interesting request, I hope I can do it justice.

Love, Charlie

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Luke Skywalker x Genderneutral!Inquisitor!Reader

g. "Sorry doesn't fix everything."

Warnings: Slight age difference (just a couple of years, not specified), kinda self-harm, but not really

-------

You didn't consider yourself anyone special. You were one of many, one of many children orphaned during the end of the Clone Wars or the beginning of the Empire, one of many cadets in the Imperial Academy, one of many singled out on your fifteenth birthday for 'special training'. It wasn't until you turned eighteen and were sent on your first mission, the only one of your squad to ever receive a mission at all, that you realized that maybe there was something special about you, though you only managed to put it in words once none other than Grand Moff Tarkin, the Grand Moff Tarkin, pinned a medal on your chest and congratulated you to your promotion. That's when you realized that you were special, you were one of only a handful of Inquisitors, chosen and trained to rid the galaxy of the few remaining Jedi or those who still had faith in the doomed order, those whose abilities were too dangerous to let them live. You were good at what you did, if not one of the best, and had countless medals to prove it. Maybe that's why your next mission came from very high up, from Darth Vader himself. The day you met the second most powerful man in the galaxy would change your life forever, though whether for better or for worse you would never be able to tell.

-------

Vader had sent you to what had to be the worst planet you have visited so far. Tatooine was nothing but a pile of sand, two burning suns and more criminals and low lives than you cared to count. Though for someone high up in the empire, who received a generous salary, it wasn't too bad. Rent and food were cheaper than other places, so you allowed yourself the rare luxury of renting a small suite in one of the better hotels the planet had to offer. The mission itself was simple, all you had to do was listen to locals and maybe ask a few inconspicuous questions to find out whether there were any Jedi sympathizers left in this corner of the galaxy. That's how you met him, and how your life changed once more. Luke Skywalker quite literally ran into you the first time you visited a place called Tosche station. He was just leaving as you were entering, and since he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and you had no space to move to the side the two of you collided. Luke managed to stay on his feet, but you began to stumble and fall, only to suddenly find yourself in his arms. Wow, that kid has fast reflexes, was the first thing you thought, but once you got a closer look at him you realized that he was no kid, at the most he was a couple of years younger than you, though his out of style clothes and long hair made him appear younger than is actual age. "I am so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Are you alright?", he asked, his arms still around you and concern in his eyes. You didn't know what it was, but there was something about him that made you stare just a moment longer, and heat rise up to your cheeks. "I'm fine. But I might feel better if you bought me a drink", you replied. Your keen eyes noticed the blush that crept up his face at your words. His reaction, and the overall lack of young people, let alone attractive young people, on this planet made it obvious that he wasn’t used to flirting, which brought out a strange sense of accomplishment and possessiveness in you.  “Just wait here, I’ll get us something to drink and I know a shady place to sit down”, he told you before disappearing in the crowd. 

-------

True to his word Luke reappeared a moment later and lead you to what seemed to be an abandoned farm a short distance away. That’s where the two of you settled and only when the suns began to set did you get back up. You didn’t remember the last time you have had a conversation like this, talking about everything and nothing. In just one short afternoon you learned more about Luke than you knew about most of your fellow cadets back at the academy. He was an orphan, living with his aunt and uncle on their moisture farm and though the two of them were happy with that life, Luke wanted more, he wanted to see the galaxy, a sentiment you could understand more than he knew. Luke was all of the things the people in your life weren’t; open and honest, sweet and funny, warm as the two suns above and quite good looking on top of it. In retrospect you should have known that it wouldn’t take Luke long to find a place in your heart, and your frequent meetings that followed after your first day together certainly didn’t help.  Luke was your first kiss, only a week after you first met him in the Tatooine desert with gleaming stars and a bright moon above.  He was the first one you told about your past, at least a few basics. You told him that you were an orphan, that your parents had been killed during the last few days of the Clone Wars and that you have been on your own since you were a baby. You told him about the loneliness and fears you usually kept bottled up and your unrealistic dreams for the future.  Luke was the first you slept with, back in your hotel suite, after you had treated him to a dinner nicer than any he has had back on the farm. It wasn’t like what your peers had told you sex was like, it was sweet and passionate and lovely.  And even though you tried your best not to, Luke was the first person you ever fell in love with, the first you cared about, other than the memory of parents you didn’t even remember if you were being honest.  Your relationship with Luke was both the only real thing and the biggest lie in your life. He had told you everything about himself, but you had no choice but to keep lying to him again and again, no matter how much it hurt. Maybe that’s why part of you was glad when, after once again reporting that there was nothing unusual on Tatooine, you were told your mission was over and you should report to the Death Star.  When you told Luke that you’d have to leave the next day he kissed you in his unique sweet way and whispered the three words you have come to cherish against your lips.  “In that case I think I should give this to you now. I had been planning to wait til our one year anniversary next month, but I guess that doesn’t matter now”, he mumbled, speaking more to himself than to you. Before you could ask what he was talking about he pulled a small box out of the messenger back he usually carried with him. Gently he opened the box to reveal the most stunning bracelet you have ever seen.  “It was my mother’s, one of the few things I have of hers. I want you to have it.”  You lifted the bracelet out of  its box, admiring how the stones shone in the soft light of the candles around your suite.  “Luke...”, you said, trying your best not to let your voice break. “I cannot accept this.”  You lowered the bracelet to put it back in the box, but before you could Luke took your hand in his and used his other hand to close your finger on top of it.  “I want you to have it, I really do. To remember me by. Besides, the colour really doesn’t suit me.”  You couldn’t fight the smile that found its way to your lips at his bad joke, neither the tears that appeared in your eyes. It really was time for you to leave this planet, to leave Luke, if you didn’t do it soon you feared you never would.  “Thank you. I won’t take this off, I promise”, you vowed as he gently fastened the bracelet around your wrist and then pressed a soft kiss on your pulse point.  “I love you”, he said with a sad smile.  Only then did it occur to you that he had said it multiple times now, almost every day ever since the first time he had said it almost seven months ago, but never once did you say the words back. Maybe it was fitting that the only time you told him how you felt about him was when saying goodbye.  “I love you too, Luke.” 

-------

Soon after your return to the Empire, and your first visit to the infamous Death Star, did you realize why you had been called back so suddenly. The war against the rebels was picking up pace and the Empire could use all the help it could get.  The next year was busy, you were no longer sent on solo missions but rather trained with the elite forces, taught to fly and shoot instead of fighting with your lightsaber, and then it suddenly stopped.  After the Battle of Yavin the Empire had to regroup, rethink its strategies, and fight a new opponent.  “We have information about an old Jedi temple, you will leave tomorrow and destroy it”, Grand Moff Tarkin informed you in his usual clipped way.  This caught your attention, and for the first time in a while your interest. Hunting Jedi, making sure no children strong with the force would ever find out about their existence and take care of them if they did was what you were trained for, what you often thought you were born to do. Suddenly it dawned on you that the last time you had actually been assigned a mission like this was before Tatooine, before Luke.  “Why me? I don’t mean to question your decision, but there are many older, more skilled Inquisitors.”  Tarkin simply nodded. “I agree. But Lord Vader asked for you specifically. You’re to leave for Dagobah tomorrow at 0700.” 

-------

Your short research told you that Dagobah was basically a slimy mudhole, but upon arrival it seemed even worse than in the pictures on the holonet.   “If that temple is inside one of those swamps I’m not even gonna bother, I’ll just set fire to the whole planet”, you mumbled as you climbed out of your TIE fighter, careful not to get your bracelet caught on the ladder. That had happened once during one of your first flying lessons and it had cost you almost a month’s salary to get it repaired, apparently the medal alone was worth more than you made in a year, from the stones you might even be able to buy a small planet.  The second your feet touched the ground you felt something dripping down from the trees onto your arms, which you could only hope was water.  Luckily, after just a few meters, you stumbled upon a path covered with mostly dry branches and pebbles.  “I thought this planet was supposed to be abandoned, but this looks almost like someone made this path on purpose.”  You kept walking along the path, checking your datapad every now and then to make sure you were headed the right way.  After what felt like half an eternity of walking you finally reached a small hut, which your datapad assured you was right next to the temple, though since you couldn’t see anything other than the hut and a million trees you decided to investigate there first, who knew what you may find.  A familiar buzz ran through your entire body, adrenaline and excitement preparing you for what was to come. With a slight smile on your lips you ignited your lightsaber, partially so you’d be ready for what- or whoever would be waiting for you inside, partially because from where you stood in the doorway you could tell that it was incredibly dark and the added benefit of a lightsaber was the soft glow that helped in situations like this.  Inside the hut was larger than it had seemed on the outside, mostly meaning that there was more than just one room. In fact, there was a long hallway with open doors on both sides leading to different rooms. The first couple of rooms you checked, if they could even be called that, were pretty much overtaken by nature and rotting away. There was nothing that spoke of Jedi, or any other intelligent being, having been there in recent years. It wasn’t until you were closing in on the last rooms that you heard a low noise, followed by a gut feeling that told you that what you were looking for would be in that room. Though since you didn’t know what, or who, exactly would be in there you entered the room with your lightsaber stretched out in front of you, hoping the red sword would make any possible threat stand down before they could try anything while you would remain in the shadowy hallway to glance inside.  The plan seemed to work, since you heard a small gasp from inside the room just a moment before you realized who it had come from.  “Luke?”  “(Y/N)?”  Both your voices were astounded, shocked, and mournful. Of all the people in the galaxy, why did it have to be Luke Skywalker you found here of all places?  “What are you doing here?”, you asked as you slowly entered the room.  It was then that you noticed just how different Luke looked, how much he had changed since you last saw him. His hair was a bit shorter, his skin paler and his eyes darker. And he was wearing an orange flight suit, the outfit was completed by the helmet in his hand, with the familiar rebel symbol on the side.  You turned your lightsaber off before fastening it to your belt, just in time because only moments later you felt your legs begin to wobble before they gave out underneath you.  Luke, his reflexes fast as ever, quickly pushed a chair in your direction, so you would fall on that instead of the hard floor.  “Luke... Please don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”  You didn’t know what made you plead, hated the hurt and fear in your voice, but how could Luke, your Luke, not only be a rebel but be hiding right were an ancient Jedi temple was supposed to be.  “If you’re asking whether I’m a rebel, the answer is yes”, he said after a moment of silence. “But judging by that red saber that’s not the only thing you’re asking.”  Luke astonished you by sitting down on the small bed you only just noticed, one of the few pieces of furniture in the small room. How could he be so calm?  “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a... what do you call yourselves again? Inquisitors?”  You couldn’t help the inappropriate laugh that escaped your lips.  “Yes, Inquisitors. Also known as the only people stopping the Jedi from destroying the galaxy as we know it.”  Luke simply looked at you, an expression on his face you’ve never seen. He seemed to be beyond angry, though there was no denying the sadness in his eyes.  “Is that what you believe? That the Jedi, the few Jedi you and those like you haven’t slaughtered, are trying to destroy the galaxy?”  Not knowing what made you do it you sat down next to Luke, though you did your best to put some distance between you on the small bed.  “Luke, I know this might be hard to hear, I know some people, rebels and Jedi alike, probably told you more lies than either of us can count, but the Jedi are bad. They once controlled the galaxy, did you know that? And they used that control to gain riches and live comfortably while others suffered. They were selfish and deceiving and cruel and Emperor Palpatine was the only one who could stop them. You know that, don’t you?”, you asked. Of course Luke had to know that, know the truth. You spoke to him in a soft voice, careful not to burst his bubble too sudden, to give him time to adjust and acknowledge what deep down you were sure he had to know.  “Is that what they told you? What they made you believe so you would go around killing innocent children, scared old fugitives and all those trying to live normal lives after a genocide? Wake up, (Y/N)! It’s not the Jedi that are bad, it’s the Empire.”  Luke reached out to take your hand and for reasons unknown to you, you let him.  “The Empire raised you, didn't it?”, he asked.  To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You’ve never really told Luke anything about your past, you weren’t even sure whether you told him that you were an orphan, but certainly not what your childhood had been like.  “How did you know?”  He moved closer to you before he answered, reached for your face to lay a hand on your cheek. The sadness in his eyes was even more obvious now, so much so that it took over his entire face.  “There’s no other explanation. If you had known life outside the Empire, if even just for a moment, you would know just how false everything you just said is.”  You shook your head. Though doubt began to creep in on you, the bigger part of your brain knew that Luke must be trying one of his Jedi tricks on you. But as soon as that thought appeared you neglected it. This was Luke, your Luke. Sweet and kind and caring, he couldn’t hurt a fly, much less you, no matter how much time has passed. So was what he was saying true? At least partially?  “They told you what they want you to believe, never let you make up your own mind. I know you, (Y/N), I know that deep down, somewhere underneath all those lies you’ve been told, you’re a good person, and that person doesn’t have to heart to be an Inquisitor.”  There was an expression on Luke’s face you knew all too well. Hope.  He squeezed your hand before lifting it up to his lips to press a soft kiss on the back of it.  “Luke, I... I’m...”, you started, but with how much your lip was quivering you couldn’t finish your sentence.  “It’s alright”, Luke said before pressing another kiss to your hand. “You don’t need to say it, you don’t need to apologize. You know, sorry doesn’t fix everything, but it’s a good start. And if you let me, I can help you. You could start a new life as part of the rebellion, I’m sure they’d be glad to have someone of your expertise.”  As Luke kept talking your head began to spiral. Finally you came to a conclusion, and though you knew it was the right thing, you almost didn’t go through with it, knowing you wouldn’t be able to look Luke in the eyes afterwards.  Slowly you began to loosen your hand from Luke’s grasp and removed his other hand from your cheek.  “I’m not sorry. I’m not gonna say that I am when I’m not. Maybe what I’ve done was wrong, and if that’s the case your rebellion would never accept me, I don’t think I would accept me if what I have done wasn’t for the good of the galaxy, or maybe everything I’ve ever been taught was right and you’re lying to me. Whatever it is, I cannot say that I’m sorry, much less go with you, until I know the truth.”  You took a deep breath and averted your eyes from Luke’s face. You couldn’t bear to look at him right now.  “I know you won’t hurt me, even though you probably should. And I won’t hurt you, even though that’s what I’m here for. I’ll go looking for answers, to see whether I’m the villain you think I am, or the hero I was raised to be.”  As you spoke the last words you got up from the small bed. You could feel Luke’s eyes on you, but knew that if you looked at him, at the face you’ve seen in your dreams ever since you first met, you wouldn’t be able to go through with your plan, instead you’d crumble and fall into his arms, knowing he’d always be there to catch you.  Lucky for you, Luke didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you until you were almost out the door.  “I still love you”, he finally said. “Maybe I shouldn’t, knowing what I now know, but I can’t help it.”  Even though every bone in your body was screaming at you to turn around, even though your heart was aching to catch one last glimpse at him, you continued to walk out the door, out the hut and didn’t stop until you reached your TIE.  And just as you were taking off, after you have ripped parts of your clothes and carefully cut yourself with your lightsaber to make it seem as if Luke had bested you in battle, you finally did turn around and looked for Luke among the trees. And though you didn’t see him, something told you that he was there, watching you. It was that feeling that made you whisper the words you should have said to him whenever you had the chance.  “I love you too. And I’m sorry, for everything.” 

-------

I’m so sorry that this took ages, but I hope it was worth the wait. I really loved this idea and though I don’t think I really did it justice I have tried my best. 

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 127

Annnnd a-one, and a-two, and a queue-queue-queue!

This chapter has one of my favorite things in the world to write - Interpersonal relationships (if you are surprised, I’m going to assume you are new here....).

Specifically, one of my biggest pet-peeves is when friends or siblings are written in a way that shows that the author doesn’t actually have any friends or siblings they are close enough to that all rules of societal politeness go whizzing into some far-off dimension as soon as they are in proximity.

When I get to write a chapter with such close friends/ersatz-siblings and also have @baelpenrose cackling and egging me on, it literally makes my whole day.

P.S: If anyone has wondered about the ages of the characters, several are clearly lined out in this chapter......

EDIT: Fixed some insane formatting issues.

“The food festival, Sophia? Really?” an incredulous voice asked before the door to my office even opened all the way.

I resisted the urge to scream, but did surrender to pinching the bridge of my nose and breathing slowly. “Hello, Arthur. Do come in. Long time no see.  Of course I’m not busy…” My one day each week to have a few hours to myself - no mentees, no assistant, even Tyche was off work….

“We saw each other last night when I came over for dinner after sparring with Conor, and  you’re never busy on Saturdays, Alistair makes sure of it.” He dragged a chair in front of my desk for what I felt was the sole purpose of putting his boots on my desk instead of the conference table.

“I thought you two didn’t even like each other, how did you - “

He waved a hand dismissively. “Enemy of my best friend’s enemy is my friend, that sort of thing. Anyway - “

“Did you just call me my own worst - “

“You are, let’s not pretend otherwise. Anyway.” Arthur arched an eyebrow at me and waited for any further objections, but I couldn’t think of any. “The Food Festival. It’s my one favorite tradition on this ship until armed combat becomes a spectator sport, and you are putting Parvati and Hannah in charge of it?”

After a beat pause to make sure he was done, I glared at him. “Everyone has asked me that, and I don’t understand the issue.  They’ve both helped in the past, even before they started training to replace me.  I’ve handed more and more off to them each time, and they did great! Plus, they have three months, it will be fi - Wait, why do you even care, Arthur?”

He held up one finger with the authority of a deity who would have smited me if he could. “One, Parvati Fletcher does not like mapo tofu. You do. Specifically, you like it from that one vendor who grows her own Sichuan peppercorns and uses them like they are an infinite resource. Two, I spend entirely too much time working with Zach Khan, and he won’t shut up about how stressed Hannah is. Three - “ I was seriously starting to get concerned he actually could smite me at this point - “As much as I love you in the most platonic way possible, you are an obsessive, compulsive perfectionist who insists on doing everything herself and running herself into the ground so that everyone else has the time of their lives. So why are you trusting this, the largest and oldest event on the Ark, entirely to other people?” Dropping his boots from the desk, he leaned forward, palms down until we were nearly nose to nose.

“Sophia Reid, I swear on any god I can kill if you are dying…”

“WHAT!?” I squawked, jerking back and standing so fast I knocked my chair over. “For the love of little fish, I’m not dying! I haven’t had a near death experience in four years, thank you.”

“Three, not counting the fact that there is a reason Alistair makes you drink anything through a straw anymore.”

“How did - Nevermind.” I shook my head and tried to focus on the topic at hand. “No, I’m not dying. Nor am I injured, having a midlife crisis, rethinking my life choices any more than I ever do, or so much as in possession of a stuffy nose.” Taking a deep breath, I rolled my eyes and started counting off before I could stop myself. “Conor and Maverick and I are fine. No, I’m not arguing with Tyche again. Yes, I’m still going to therapy. Else is fine. No new sentient plagues or rogue cult leaders that I’m aware of. Nor have I become immortal, queen of the universe, savior of humanity, pregnant by Noah, or possessed.” Carefully, I picked my chair back up and sat down.

“Good...to… know?” He gave me a funny look. “Who asked the most disturbing one?”

“Immortal or Savior of Humanity?” I asked for clarification. “Those were Maverick and Derek, respectively.”

The look only got worse. “I meant ‘pregnant by Noah’, but fascinating to see where your priorities lie….?”

“Oh. That was Charly.”

“Dammit,” he swore softly. “I had her pegged for ‘possessed’.”

“I’m pretty sure she is, but the suggestion that I am came from Tyche, on no fewer than 3 occasions, by 4 different entities. She seemed pretty hopeful that Else was potentially mind-controlling me in an effort to make me take a nap,” I admitted.

“That tracks.” A nod of approval prefaced the question I had been avoiding - successfully, thus far, I might add. “Now that you’ve ruled out every possible plausible reason that you would entrust this to literally anyone other than a clone of yourself, why?”

“Why what?” My face was composed in an expression of innocence so convincing that I probably deserved an Oscar.

“I can and will convince Charly to turn all your coffee to decaf, so help me, Sophia.”

Realizing that he was, legitimately, worried about me and at the limits of his usually-impressive patience, I held up my hands in surrender. “Fine. You get the scoop.  Please record this and send me the loop, so I can just flick it at people who ask, please?” When he nodded, I exhaled slowly.  “It is no secret to anyone that I never wanted this job. I made the mistake of establishing the Food Festival, which as you point out is the largest event of the cycle on the Ark - the last three years, literally everyone attended in some capacity.” When he opened his mouth to argue, I held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the Festival. What basically started out as a potluck because we were homesick and needed to meet - you know, the rest of humanity - is a huge, three day holiday.  It’s amazing!” I spun in my chair, arms flung wide for emphasis, before stopping to face him. 

“It also consumes my life, for months, to prepare for.  And that’s just implementing changes to make it more accessible so people don’t miss out! That doesn’t include adding things to make it more interesting or keep it from getting boring, or whatever. I literally don’t have time to do any of that!”

“So, you’re inflicting this on them instead?”

“Inflicting?” I snorted.  “Hardly. This is their final exam, their capstone project, their dissertation.  If they pull this off, I will gladly hand the entire office over to whoever is elected, cheerfully and knowing the Ark is in good hands.  But, they have to pull this off.  It’s the only major part of being Councilor of Resources and Relations that they haven’t done yet by themselves.”

He rubbed his face, looking somewhat impressed. “That’s honestly not what I was expecting.”

“I don’t think it ever is, honestly.” I shrugged at the question he glanced towards me. “For Evan, it was coordinating the weapons exhibitions.  Charly managed to pre-empt her own by designing more efficient aqueducts and filtration for when we reach Von - you know, the ones that also produce light?”

“Of course she would invent glow-in-the-dark plumbing. Who else?” Something caught up with him. “Evania Josue got away with planning an event? Seriously?”

“Oh, that’s right… you weren’t on Level One…” I murmured. When he only looked more confused, I clarified. “She was Maverick’s co-pilot when we needed people to pilot the Ark, which was not designed to pilot manually, via dead reckoning, using cameras pointed out the few viewports we have, for several weeks after the sensors were sabotaged.”

“She was whose co-pilot?”

“You really never heard this story? You practically live with seven people who were there…”

“Usually I get the bits about ‘Sophia nearly got her brains bashed out’ and ‘that traitorous bitch’, then start tuning out while I try to decide what it would take to get Charly to teach me necromancy… If Evan was the co-pilot, then why is Maverick….”

“Not in line to replace any Councilors? Arthur, we know that would be a disaster for him.”

He nodded reluctantly. “Your younger partner is a nice boy.”

“For fuck’s sake, he’s thirty seven!” I groaned.

“Nice man, whatever,” he waved off. “Which is exactly what I would like for you as a partner. You need nice partners, and blunt siblings. But I see what you mean about him being a Councilor… he’d be miserable.”

“What was yours?” I asked mischievously, dropping my chin onto my hands.

That earned me a flat stare, until he finally surrendered when I didn’t flinch. “The Twentieth/Early Twenty First History curriculum.”

“Seriously?” That had literally been the first thing he had done when Eino tapped him as a possible successor.

“I didn’t budge on points even he admitted he would have, out of fear of offending people.”

“Which is a fear you very much lack,” I pointed out.

“The truth is the truth. Coating it in sugar only makes it taste worse.” He shrugged nonchalantly before suddenly looking dangerously like he was thinking again. “There’s two of them.”

“Yes, Arthur. Hanna and Paravati are, in fact, two distinct and separate women-type-lady-people.”

“Thank you, Fee, I was well aware.” I suppressed a growl at the nickname - he knew I hated it. “I meant, only one can win the election, smartass.”

“Better to be a smartass than a dumbass,” I muttered.

“Sophia, you are forty five. Please grow up just a hair?”

“Tyche doesn’t want to be HR forever, you know.”

That brought his mind to a visibly screeching halt. “Wait, what?”

“What what?” I asked. “She does it because she is phenomenal at it, but it isn’t her passion.  She only stuck around as long as she did to make sure I didn’t trip over a chair and brain myself while I was at work.  When I’m gone, she’s gone, loser take the spoils.”

He whistled softly before shaking his head. “It’s bizarre to think of you two retiring around the same time I’m just starting the position.”

“I’ll have been a Councilor for a decade when I step down,” I pointed out.  I almost included unless I die first, but that never seemed to be as funny as I thought it was.

“But you aren’t that much older than me,” he sighed dramatically. “Anti-aging technology is frustrating.”

“Annnnd this is a natural extension of your career, with a ten year break thereabouts the middle.”  My grin was so bright it made him scowl before I finally got a begrudging smile.  “Think of it as getting elected head of the school board.”

The groan he let out probably echoed for several levels throughout the ship. I had basically just pointed out that he was becoming that which he most hated.

Or not. He seemed to recover with a gleam in his eye. “Pfft. Dean of Students, at the very least.”

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[tosikoarts]

SFW Alphabet | L Lawliet

L is here too, wow. You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot, again. 

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

   Here is the thing: сhildren receiving inadequate affection may manifest stunted physical growth despite receiving adequate nutrition, so you can imagine what it can do to the emotional growth and perception of other people. Watari tried to cultivate kindness, mercy, love equally in his wards but it is impossible considering how many orphans reside in Wammy’s house. Little L was more interested in the world’s famous inventions, books, riddles than in other children, and now you have to face the consequences.

  He has to start from scratch. In the beginning L sticks to mimicking affection given to him. You bought him a box of chocolate, he will buy you a box of eclairs. You ruffled his hair, he will play with yours, twisting it on finger. You hugged him and he will hug you whenever feels convenient. At some point he will find new ways of showing his love.

  Understanding that he can do other things too gave him insight. He can try this, and that, and ask you if you liked it or not, wow. L’s curiosity will take over: different types of kisses, various cuddle positions, playful fights, nights out, nights in – he wants to do it all.

  Well, not everything is so rosy. During work, he forgets what he has learned and goes back to his old self. Sadly, this won’t change no matter what.

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

 Where to begin? How do you even get this man to be your friend? You don’t. He chooses you and then suddenly, - boom! – you’re best friends forever, it is established fact. But before it happens, he will study you like an ant under a magnifying glass.

There is not a lot of places where he can find a person with an IQ close to his. High chance L will look for a friend among the best FBI agents or fellow detectives.

 Friends who judge people together stay together. He is a person who likes to spill some tea and throw a little shade for entertainment.

  Sarcasm and irony are things that no conversation can go without, so L wants a person who doesn’t get offended right away and can keep up with it.

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

   The best way to make L shut up is to cuddle him. No way he will refuse a good cuddle session when in private, but will hesitate if someone else is around.

 He’s 100% touch-starved. All cuddle positions are fine, but if you want to knock him out completely go for face to face cuddle while on his lap. Now he can’t sit in frog-like position (so his IQ has already dropped) and there’s person playing with his hair? Congratulation, L has fallen.

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

D stands for domestic and disaster when it comes to both cooking and cleaning. Even though he would love to settle down and retire from detective work, he has no skills when it comes to the most basic things. His whole life someone else took care for those little unimportant tasks so he could push human mind to its limit, and now it’s too late for relearning. When he tries to cook it never ends up well, you just have to accept this man’s futility and move on.

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

There was nothing surprising that he had to break up with you. No other possible ending for such relationship, absurd and strange, and with someone like him. L will choose cruel ghosting because explanation is for losers and emotionally mature people. One day he vanishes from your radar: no more messages, no more calls, nobody knows him because L never met your friends. Conscience continues to nibble him for two weeks or so, he has to continuously fight desire to contact you and he would miserably fail if there was no Kira to occupy all of his free time.

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

Two to three years are enough for him to pop a question. Those months were spent in careful study and relationship viability assessment. Let’s be real, he will put person he likes in tricky situations just to evaluate their reaction. Manipulative? Yes. Cruel? Yes. Weird? Yes. He won’t allow anything extreme though. After all, he learned  a lot about human interactions and developed undoubtedly strong feelings for them. In addition, he will propose during trip to Kyoto, when visiting Kiyomizu-dera  with its famous Love Shrine. Right after “Why would I walk between these   stones if I already found you?”.

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

In the beginning his level of gentleness is somewhere between a log and jar of jam. Day by day, week by week L realizes that all of his actions come down to the will to care, love, protect, - and guess what? – these three have to be gentle in order to fit the definition of healthy relationship. He allows himself to grow emotionally. If we talk about physical sphere, he is very cautious from the beginning and tries to fight his natural stiffness so another person can feel his love.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

It’s another of his weakness. L wasn’t properly hugged as a child and it took a toll on him: when you hug him for first time, he is stiff and awkward. Second time is better, but his hands on your back still feel like a mannequin’s grip.

L grows fond of warmth and comfort pretty fast and he starts to initiate hugs himself. His favorite part of the day is when he tiptoes to you from behind, grabs you in bear hug, and you both fall on the sofa/bed/anything soft enough to leave you without bruises.  

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

He suddenly blurted it out after only 3 months of dating. It sounded so innocent, affectionate, sincere, that he shut up for a minute to rethink what just happened. He totally meant what he said, of course, but at the same time, he was not sure it was the right moment, the right tone, even the right choice of words. L will try to explain what he wanted to say in trembling voice but will not say anything coherent because L.exe stopped working.

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

 Because of how hard it is to let new people in, L becomes very attached to those who have overcome all obstacles and decided to stay in his life. Thus fear of abandonment arises, and so does jealousy.

He is not paranoid about where you are and who you spend your time, but he doesn’t mind  knowing it. You don’t want to use a tracker on your phone? Too bad, maybe, he’s already installed it. For your safety only.

 Easily jealous and will need a lot of reassurance despite immediately becoming distant and silent. It is another way of manipulation because what if you do leave him all alone?

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

Again, he didn’t have a lot of practice so L’s kisses are sloppy and a little rough. His lips are always chapped because of constant licking and biting during intense thought process, and they feel a little dry on your skin. Because of this (and awkwardness, of course) L will quickly shift kisses into cuddles or hugs. He both prefers to kiss and be kissed on the forehead, since, in his opinion, it is the gentlest expression of love.

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

The God is dead, house is on fire, Watari maneuvers between flames, trying to save the day. No, seriously, kids love L, he looks like a character from their favorite cartoon, but since he is not the most energetic person, to say the least, they quickly lose interest in him. The best solution for L is to babysit with someone who is more experienced and can guide him through this complicated process. Otherwise, he will make sure all dangerous objects are out of reach and leave children to themselves (if their age allows, of course).

Afraid to have kids of his own. Living in orphanage, he had no real functional family so a thought of parent's duty scares him.

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

·   Morning routine depends on L’s messed up sleeping schedule:

If he went to bed last night, it means sleep deprivation finally got to him. Next 12 hours or so he will spend in blanket cocoon, tossing and slightly snuffling. No human power can wake him up, there’s no point in trying.

However if he stayed up all night, you will find out your kitchen turned into delicious sweet buffet. TV is still turned on with weird movie playing, but no sound is coming out of speakers. A tower of empty teacups is about to collapse. L is sitting in the chair, eating two cupcakes at once, lost in thoughts. He will offer you to join him in feast and raise his head a little, exposing his cheek for a kiss. It’s 5 am. Sun is rising and erasing last stars from the sky. Life is good.

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

·Nights out are rare, most of the times you stay inside, eating take-out and watching true crime documentaries. He still cannot decide whether they are dumb or interesting, so he keeps watching and changing his opinion with every new episode. After you go to bed, L will lay down next to you. Sometimes he will fall asleep, cuddling you and nuzzling into your neck. Sometimes he will get up and do God knows what.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Well, he gives you fake name, always lies about his job, and holds back many details about his life… L wants to open up, he really does, but there’s no way he will do it. To every question he has a prepared half-true answer. Everything related to detective work is hidden behind seven seals and will be never presented to you unless you’re from FBI.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

The embodiment of serenity, L never gets angry in classical sense. He may sulk, turn to sarcasm, shower your with stinging comments or, on the contrary, suddenly stop talking, but you’ll never see him red-faced, screaming, swearing right and left. He doesn’t have time to waste energy on such silly thing. It takes a lot to make him mad. After he calms down, L will continue make bitter remarks about thing that pissed him off for weeks.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Not that attentive, really. You would expect him to remember a lot but he is always busy chasing exceptional criminals and his brain erases many details, both minor and major. For example, he can easily forget your Birthday and congratulate you both before and after it.

L never fails to remember anniversaries thanks to phone reminders. However, if he doesn’t check his phone that day, he will forget about them as well.

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

No matter how trite it may sound, his favorite moment is their first kiss. L clearly remembers his heart beating deafeningly loud and palms sweating like he’s kid who got in big trouble. There is no picture left in his memory, only feelings and crazy thoughts, terribly matted together. After it happened, L couldn’t even make a witty remark. Later that day he sat in front of overflowing cup of tea and slowly realized how little happiness he had felt before.  

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

Since he did everything to protect himself first and then, - just in case, - put a spying app on the phone of his loved, a satisfactory sense of security drowns out all of his possible fears. If anything happens, there’s already a rescue plan waiting to be executed.

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

Let’s say he is trying, he is trying his best every day.

When it comes to presents, L will go for advice to Internet, rarely to Watari, and choose gift as close as possible to your interests. Dates are all on you though, because he feels so strange when he has to plan something for you two. On a subconscious level, he is afraid to ruin everything.

Tries even harder on anniversaries (if he remembers about them) and you either have the best day of your life, when he does whenever you want, or you are all alone wondering what the actual heck. In short, it’s all or nothing situation.

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

L is obviously manipulative, you can’t justify him. Some manipulation techniques are so integrated in his thinking and speech that it is impossible to get rid of them. Like if gaslighting was an Olympic sport, he would have all golden, silver, and bronze medals.

It seems like the opposite to the first point, but L also loves to be inappropriate straightforward. You know, moments when you understand what you feel but when another person vocalizes it or comments on it, you absolutely lose your shit? That’s what we talk about.

Quirkiness. I don’t really think this needs explanation. The totality of his strange habits can be a very repulsive sight to an ordinary person.

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

Watari is more concerned about his looks than he is. L never buys his clothes, his wardrobe is minimalist’s dream and consists of few pieces of monotone clothes, three pairs of shoes, and warm jacket for a fall/winter season. He doesn’t like brushing his hair, bites his nails to the blood, but absolutely adores hot bubble bathes. Looks do not matter when all people see is the letter L in Gothic font.

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

Depends on time spent in the relationship:

 It’s stupid to expect L to suffer tremendously if you leave in first two months. When you are here he is a little bit happier, when you are not he is not that concerned. There’s still a high chance you’ll see him as he sees himself and leave, so why would he bother? It’s almost a painful expectation for another person to give up. If it ends, nothing will change, end of story.

Later L starts to catch himself worrying that someone finally climbed over the wall of his alienation, and it doesn’t seem like they are planning to leave any time soon. The closer they get, the scarier it is. If you suddenly cut all ties, he will be heartbroken, his face is emotionless like always but he is still hurt deep inside.

If anything happens a lot later in relationship, like year or two, L’s reaction will be calmer. He is grateful for everything they had and shared with him, for every moment of happiness, so he doesn’t feel like they can leave completely now. They will remain in his memory and his heart and because of it he won’t feel “incomplete”. A little bitter, but not hurt or emotionally torn apart.

If there’s any possibility that his loved one was killed by Kira, L will be furious. He will turn over every stone, use everything he can to avenge them and bring a peace to their memory.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

It’s scary how much time L spends in frog-like position with back hunched. Therefore I feel like he will be ecstatic if someone offered him a good back massage to relax those tense muscles.

Overall, he loves random spa days when you two spend time in sauna, hot springs, yoga class etc. This probably would be his present on your first anniversary.

Some children were obsessed with dinosaurs, some were obsessed with superheroes, but L was obsessed with occultism, urban legends, haunted things, unexplained disappearances, and ghosts. His obsession died but its influence didn’t. Why else would he be so scarred and intrigued after hearing about Shinigami?

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

Just like Light, he wouldn’t stand blatant stupidity. Even if there’s something to compensate it, he will grow tired of dumb questions or over-all behavior. Oh, and he will give his comments on it whenever possible too.

Nosiness and bad boundaries. If he keeps some information to himself, it is not because of luck of trust. As a world’s best detective, he has many reasons to dodge personal questions to protect his work from interference and himself from possibility of getting killed.

He doesn’t like loud noises but can put up with it if needed with his collections of different ear plugs.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

It’s a common knowledge L’s sleeping schedule is non-existent. It has been like it since the day he took his first case and nothing has changed since. Watari keeps an eye on how many hours L stays awake and suggests him to rest from time to time but it rarely helps. Once L got so exhausted he straight up started hallucinating about having an adopted child and it scarred the hell out of him. After this incident he takes Watari’s advice more seriously.

L tried different versions of polyphase sleep at least once. Non of them worked, he ended up even more tired and frustrated, lost feeling in one of his arms, then broke a cup because of it.

Also L can sleep everywhere, no matter how uncomfortable he is. In the chair, leaning on the wall, on the floor – it all works for him unless there’s a loud noise in the room.

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

When You Least Expect It, Part Sixteen

Jensen Ackles x Musician!Reader

Masterlist - Contains Chapter Links & Wardrobe Collages

A/N: This is a much shorter chapter than the rest, but I hope you enjoy it! 

Spotify Playlist

Series Summary: After a hard breakup, Jensen decides to throw himself into organizing a Music Festival in Austin that is meant to raise money for a few of his most cherished charities and organizations. As he throws himself into planning it, he stumbles upon a spirited, undiscovered performer, who he convinces to come aboard to help plan and coordinate the event with him.

What transpires after that takes both Jensen and his new friend, by surprise. But when their respective pasts come back just before the event kicks off in Austin, they will both have to decide if the unexpected feelings are worth perusing, or if they should just walk away and go on with their lives.

Series Warnings: Language, Break-Ups, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mild Violence, Talk of Domestic Abuse

Chapter Summary: With the festival rapidly approaching, everyone is both on edge and excited for what lies ahead.

Chaper Warnings: None

WC: 6.5K

Series Beta’d by @closetspngirl​​

Dee

The private investigator Dee hired last Spring had been worth every penny. The information he delivered on Jensen’s new girlfriend gave her more than she could have hoped for. Her plan to contact the little twit’s ex-boyfriend seemed like a good idea at first; but as the weeks turned into months, even Dee could see Nathan’s instability grow. Once word of the incident at Jensen’s brewery reached her, she knew that maybe things had gone too far. All she wanted to do was try and cause some drama, hoping Jensen would shy away from the beach brat he was suddenly so obsessed with and come back to her. But as she sat, nipping at her cuticles while waiting in her rented Beamer for Nathan to show, she realized what a futile effort it had been.

The plan completely backfired, only pushing the two of them closer. Gen had let it slip that Y/N was now living in Vancouver with Jensen, completely bringing Dee’s hopes of a reconciliation crumbling to the ground. Even she had never been asked to move to Vancouver with him while they were together, and was instantly crushed when she heard the news. There was no chance of Jensen coming back to her; Dee knew that now it was a matter of protecting herself. Only God knew exactly what Nathan was capable of, but with the glimpses Dee had caught of him, she seriously began to fear how this would backlash onto her, if her part in everything had come out. 

Everything she had done up until that point hadn’t been illegal, really. All she did was make a few phone calls and provoke a stranger into reacting. Yet somehow she knew that if Nathan was caught, and started talking, her name would be spoken and she’d have some things to answer for. Knowing the light it would paint her in, knowing how it could affect her career, Dee needed to be sure that Nathan would keep her out of it. After all, HE was the one who took things too far. 

Dee turned her delicate wrist and checked the time on her watch; already a quarter past ten in the morning. Nathan had promised to meet her early that day outside of a small diner located in the outskirts of Austin. It was two days before the festival was to kick off, and she just needed a few reassurances before the big day. She still hated Y/N and loved Jensen, but deep down she finally conceded that SHE wasn’t the one he loved; Y/N was. 

Another twenty minutes passed with no sign of Nathan. When she checked her watch again and saw it was nearly eleven, she closed her eyes and felt her stomach bottom out. Dee pushed the start button on her rental and hung her head, long strands of red hair obscuring her face and the handful of regretful tears that ran through her makeup. A soft, yet shaky laugh turned into shaking sobs as the air conditioning began to blow her hair back lightly. She drew in a deep breath and brought her vision back up towards the windshield. Off to the right of the old titanium plated diner, stood a tall, lanky man in a grey hoodie and ripped jeans. She felt his eyes on her and a mild bout of nerves raced through her veins. The man’s hood was drawn tightly around his head, leaving his face in a swirl of shadows. Regardless, she could feel his eyes on her and knew that it was Nathan. 

They had only met in person once before earlier that Spring, and it was a brief encounter at best. Dee had been hesitant to meet face to face, but Nathan insisted. He said he was worried for Y/N, and the kind of people she’d gotten involved with. He was pushy and borderline manic, so Dee agreed to meet at the same diner she was now parked in front of. They drank coffee and Dee listened as Nathan recounted his surprise visit with Y/N. The way he explained it, she had turned her back on him, and then provoked Jensen into attacking him. His expression was concerned and fretful, but Dee knew it had all been an act. She was an actress, after all, and she could spot his lies a hundred miles away. Yet, it didn’t stop her from encouraging him to fight back, and fight for his girl.

The break-in at the condo hadn’t been all her idea, though as she sat in nervous self-reflection, she wouldn’t be able to deny planting the seed of thought in Nathan’s head. But, her little birdies told her that the amount of destruction that had been left was extensive, and far more than she felt comfortable with. 

She killed the engine of the car, again, and slowly opened the driver’s side door. The minute it cracked open, Nathan began to approach her. When he was closer, she could see his features were drawn and his complexion turned ashy. The dark circles under his eyes and the pale tone of his lips caused her brow to furrow.

“Jesus, Nathan. What the hell happened to you?”

Nathan shrugged. “Life.”

“Well, maybe you should rethink the life you’re living if it’s leaving you looking like that.” Dee gave him a good once over, and noticed his hands were shaking. “Are you on drugs?”

He let out a deep, haunting laugh. “What the fuck you know about the drug life, Princess?”

“N-Nothing really, but I’ve been around enough people that do them to know what a junkie looks like.”

“You don’t know shit about shit. What the hell do you want, hm? You nagged me to get here so you could just put me down like everyone else?” His words weren’t threatening, but the tone and body language he delivered them with, was.

“No, I just… shit, man… this all got out of hand. I just wanted to check in, make sure you were okay,” she lied, doing her best to keep her face from betraying her. “I’m concerned.”

“Are you now?” Nathan snorted, and pushed the hood off his head, revealing his shaggy, dirty hair that was plastered to his head thanks to the heat of the Austin summer. “What made you so concerned? I did what you asked. I tried to break them up. But…” he trailed off, his eyes looking in Dee’s direction, but it was clear that he wasn’t actually seeing her.

“I was wrong, okay? Clearly those two idiots are happy together. So, I wanted to tell you that you could stop trying to break them up.”

Nathan shook his head slowly, and in a way that caused a bolt of anxiety to run down Dee’s spine. “Naw, can’t do that.”

“Can’t--can’t do what?”

“Stop trying to break them up…. Y/N is all I got left in this world.”

“But, what if she doesn’t want you? Then what? Do you really want her if she doesn’t want you? You deserve someone who loves you for who and what you are. Don’t get hung up on some past relationship because you think it's what you deserve. Trust me, Nathan, I speak from experience.”

“I give two shits about your experience. Y/N is my girl,” he snarled at her, “...always has been. So why don’t you bug the fuck off and leave me alone.”

“I will, I promise. But first I just need to make sure…” Dee let her words hang in the air, hoping he would get their meaning without her having to actually say it. From his expression, she knew that he got her point, but the concerning grin that unfurled on his face told her he wasn’t going to cut her an inch of slack. “...are you… I mean, can you, leave my name out of it?”

“It?” he asked, goading her into having to say the words.

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Jesus.. Fine. Please leave my name out of any involvement with whatever scheme you come up with next? Yes, I wanted them broken up, but the things you’ve done… I can’t be a part of it.”

“Too late, Princess. You’re part of it. And if I go down for any of this bullshit, so do you.”

Jensen

In the few weeks after their vacation at the shore, Jensen and Y/N were busier than ever. Each day brought some sort of hurdle that one or both of them needed to clear. As days dwindled down towards the start of the festival, they were more determined than ever to make it the best weekend Austin had ever seen. A few last minute additions to the various stage line ups caused some headaches, but they made it work and in the end. Jensen was still in awe watching Y/N handle the musicians, the vendors, the sponsors, the various charity groups involved, and all while she was trying to get her own music set list together. Not to mention practicing via video conference with Robbie and the rest of Louden Swain. 

For most of his life, Jensen always wondered if a woman like her existed. Y/N was by no means perfect; she could be moody, and a bit of a slob which sometimes drove him crazy. Then, he would see her sitting on the couch, legs crossed in some ungodly way, with her head buried in her computer or a guitar on her lap, and any of her imperfections just melted away. Y/N did little else other than eat, sleep and breathe the festival. There were times in those weeks where despite the hectic schedule of planning and also filming the show, he half wished it was over already. Jensen wanted to start his life with Y/N, be with her without the current pressure that sat on both their shoulders. He and Jared had discussed on numerous occasions that maybe it was time for Supernatural to come to an end, giving them the opportunity to explore life outside of their precious Impala. But it wasn’t until those weeks between Seaside and the festival, that he was seriously considering it. 

The idea of not living and working in Vancouver with his best friend normally caused a mild panic to settle into his gut. However, the last time he and Jared had discussed it, they both felt that the end was in sight. Jensen never brought it up to Y/N, never felt like the right time. With all their respective traveling and work loads, trying to plan a future needed to be put on the back burner. As much as it killed him to do so, he knew it was best for both their sakes. He decided once the festival was over he’d bring it up to her. Then, they could make a plan. If there was one thing Jensen knew for absolutely certainty, it was that he didn’t see any type of future without her in it.

They were knee deep in filming the seventh episode of the season, so if a decision was to be made about the future of the show, it had to be soon. Production was shutting down for five days solely so the entire cast and crew could fly down for the festival. Every single one of them had agreed to volunteer, or help out somehow, and it warmed his heart more than he could put into words. These people had become his extended family, a support system when he felt he had reached rock bottom, and some of the best damn human beings he’d ever met.

Filming had wrapped for the extended weekend, and Jensen was feeling that last scene in every muscle and bone. Fight scenes were always fun to block out, but once it got to actually throwing the stuntmen around, and executing the moves on camera it tended to wear him out. As Jensen plodded back to his trailer, both relieved and exhausted, he noticed a light was on inside, and saw the shadow of his best friend moving about. A little smirk twitched on his face as he climbed the metal steps to the trailer and quietly pushed open the door.

Jared was singing under his breath as Jensen walked in unnoticed. Jensen leaned against the door watching him, trying not to laugh as Jared’s head bobbed to the song stuck in his head. It was when Jared started making guitar riff noises that Jensen’s resolve broke, and he started clapping loudly, making his best friend nearly jump out of his skin.

“Bravo my man!” Jensen teased and walked slowly through the large trailer. “Hey, how come we didn’t find you a slot in the festival? With pipes like that--”

“Shut up,” Jared sighed and sat down on the leather couch, still clutching his chest from Jensen’s sudden intrusion. “Damn near gave me a heart attack.”

“Yeah, well, now you know what your singing does to me.”

“I’m sorry, DEAN, I thought we were done filming for today.” Jared rolled his eyes, but was unable to hide his own smile at their banter. “Seriously though, I thought we were done. Took you long enough to get back here.”

“Had to re-block one of the fight scenes. I was completely off my game, man. I don’t know if it’s exhaustion or what, but I could feel myself half-assing it.”

“Dude, do you not realize the year you’ve had? There are times I am amazed you’re still standing.”

Jensen shrugged it off and grabbed two cold beers from the mini-fridge, before handing one to Jared and sitting on the recliner across from him. 

“Not like we haven’t been here before,” Jensen replied, but he knew what Jared really meant. Ignoring the look he could feel coming from the other side of the room, he leaned forward in the chair and finally met Jared’s eyes. “Speaking of… I think me, you and Misha really need to sit down and talk.”

Jared snorted a laugh and nodded. “Yeah, I agree. It’s why I’m here, actually.”

After so many years together, the two friends could talk without words. Due to previous discussions and the telepathy that had developed through more than a decade of friendship, neither had to say what was on their mind. 

Jared raised his beer and Jensen followed suit. They clincked the bottles together in cheers and each took a long draw of the dark brew. 

“To one final season of Supernatural,” Jensen said with Jared nodding in agreement. 

“To one more kick ass ride,” Jared smiled and took another pull from the bottle. 

They sat in silence for a moment, feeling the weight of the decision slowly rolling off their shoulders. The air in the trailer felt lighter somehow, as if just saying the words out loud relieved some of the tension it had contained. 

“Misha on board?” Jensen asked and looked up to see his friend nodding. 

“He is. He’s broken up about it as much as we are, but he knows its time.”

Jensen just nodded and sat back in his chair. “Think we got one more year in us?”

“Damn straight we do. Hell, I know we have another FIVE years in us. Truth is, I think we are just both ready for the next thing… whatever that looks like.”

Again, Jensen nodded in agreement but sat quietly, contemplating what that thing was. “Do you know what you want to do?” 

Jared shook his head. “Not really. A few offers have come in for movies, a new show or two, but nothing that really jumps up at me. I just know I want to be home more, help Gen with the kids. Actually be there and see them grow up.” He paused and looked at Jensen, who seemed a million miles away despite sitting two feet in front of him. “Jay? What about you? Do you know what comes next?”

A hint of a smile pulled at the corner of Jensen’s mouth. “I sure do, my brother. I sure as hell do. I want what you have with Gen. Wife, kids, house… the whole nine. When this festival is over, I’m going to ask Y/N to marry me. Whatever happens after that, doesn’t matter. I just know that my life isn’t complete, unless she’s in it with me.”

Jared nodded in agreement, and despite the heaviness of the decision they had come to, he could see the love and excitement in his best friend’s face. He raised his beer again, “That, is the best damn thing I’ve heard you say in forever. I admit I was skeptical at first, but Y/N brings out something in you I’ve never seen before.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” 

“Pure, unadulterated, happiness.”

Jensen leaned back in his chair, and for the first time in his life, he knew that no matter what came next, he would be okay because Jared was right. Y/N made him happier and more alive than anything else ever had. The life he had always wanted, with the woman he always dreamed of was right in front of him for the taking.

Y/N

Forty-eight hours from the start of the festival, and Y/N’s nerves were showing signs of strain from the pressure she had put on herself. She wanted everything about the weekend to be perfect; from the many venues, band line ups, vendors and volunteers. She oversaw everything, right down to the signs that she had the local schools help make that marked each section of the festival. 

The idea had hit her months ago, to divide up the Austin Hometown & Brew Fest into little representations of each major city that was contributing food, drinks and music. Each school district in Austin was responsible for creating colorful signs for each “town”, and as she stood looked through the pictures of each one, her tired heart soared with pride and a surge of adrenaline she desperately needed. When she had been offered the job by Jensen, Y/N never believed for a second she would have the knowledge or drive to pull it off. Yet somehow, here she was--in the home stretch and still running. 

Y/N stared at her phone flipping through the images Bri had sent her, as she walked barefoot through the Vancouver apartment waiting for Jensen to get back from filming so they could leave for the airport. They had a late flight to Austin, which didn’t give them much time, but they could make it work. Somehow, they always found a way. With Robbie, Bri and Mama already in Austin, Y/N knew that everything would get done that needed to, because they were just as invested in this as she and Jensen were and she couldn’t ask for much more than that. Y/N had an amazing crew behind her, a boyfriend she loved more than life, and a future with endless possibilities. 

Just as she felt her stomach rubble, and made her way into the kitchen, the phone in her hand began to buzz. Bri’s name popped up, causing Y/N to smile and forget the hunger pains that nagged her. 

“Hey Bri,” she answered with tired enthusiasm, “everything okay down there?”

“Stop being a worry wort, everything is FINE! I’m calling to check on you. How’s the nerves? Holding steady?”

“Eh, let’s just say I am holding it together. Too much to think about for me to start feeling the heat now.”

“Mhm, okay. Now, you want to try to say that in a way that will make me believe it?”

“Hush, I’m fine. Tired, but fine.”

“If you say so. Honey, I promise you, everything is on track here. Robbie has the venues locked down. The stages are finishing being built, all the lights and equipment have been tested. Mama has the two theaters ready to rock n roll. Hell, even Gen is getting in on things. Do you know she took the kids down to the elementary school and helped them finish up the last few banners. I am telling you, there is nothing to worry about.”

Y/N felt a surge of relief, and let it wash over her taking with it the stress of last minute details. Yet, there was a nagging feeling left she didn’t like. One that settled in the pit of her stomach like a led weight. 

“Bri…” Y/N paused, unsure of how to phrase what she wanted to ask. “...has there been any signs… or even a whiff of--”

“Nathan? No. There hasn’t.”

Y/N sighed audibly and felt her knees weaken at the sound of his name. She hated that even after the months that had passed since the breakin and incident in the brewery parking lot, the sound of his name could bring her such anxiety. 

“You sure?”

“I swear. The police still have an APB on him, all the volunteers and security guards have seen his picture and know what to look for should he be stupid enough to try and get into any restricted areas.”

“Okay.” But Y/N wasn’t totally convinced. She felt it could be her own paranoia and years of history with Nathan, but she needed to focus on the tasks ahead, and not look back on a past that would continue to haunt her, if she let it.

“Listen, it’s late. Tomorrow morning, I’ll meet you at Jensen’s place here in town, and we will spend the entire day going over every last minute detail. You can bite your nails and stress the day away, but for now, go grab some food, take a nap, blast some music… whatever is going to make you chill out. Robbie and I got this. Mama, too. That lady is a force of nature and loves you somethin’ fierce. So if there is any one thing out of place, I guaran-damn-tee, Mama June will handle it.”

Y/N laughed, and immediately conjured an image of Mama bossing Robbie around, while Bri sat back chuckling. “You’re right. Between her, you and Robbie, I really have nothing to worry about.”

“Good girl. Now, how long before your flight leaves?”

“We have to be at the airport by ten, and I think it leaves at twelve thirty.”

“Okay, I’ll have a car there waiting to pick you guys up. Now, I know you two horn dogs can’t keep your hands off each other, but may I suggest some SLEEP when you get to Austin. Big days ahead, and we need you both well rested and ready to kick this in the ass!”

“You know Briana, there are days I truly, from the bottom of my heart, cannot stand you.”

“What can I say, it's a gift. I’ll see you in the morning,” she laughed and made three loud kissing noises.

“Love you too, Bri,” Y/N laughed and shook her head, “See you tomorrow.”

As Y/N ended the call, her stomach reminded her of her promise of cold pizza from the fridge. She placed her cell phone on the counter and began to rummage through the two left over pizza boxes. She grabbed two plain slices, and just as she took a huge bite, her phone began to ring again. Assuming it was Bri calling back, she answered without looking at the caller ID.

“I swear, I am going to eat and take a nap!” she mumbled in protest as an answer, with a mouth full of cold pizza, but no response came. Y/N chewed and swallowed as quickly as she could, thinking that her jumbled greeting may have thrown Bri off. “Sorry, had a mouth full of food. Miss me already?” she teased. 

Again, no answer came, and that weight in her stomach twisted up like a tornado and clogged her throat. 

“Hel--Hello? Bri?” She moved the phone from her face and looked at the screen. Bri’s name wasn’t there, nor was Robbie’s. Instead it just said, Private Caller. “Who is this?”

Five, maybe ten seconds passed, but for Y/N, it felt like an eternity. She could hear someone breathing on the other end, and in her gut, she was convinced it was Nathan. 

When the person finally spoke, it was not the voice she suspected to hear. Not a man’s voice, but a digitally altered one. “Just a warning… cancel the festival, or there could be consequences.”

Y/N was speechless. She stood in Jensen’s kitchen, frozen in place with the phone glued to her hand. Slowly she brought the screen away from her face again, staring at the Private Caller and their ominous warning. She wanted to yell into the phone, curse off anyone who would try and scare her away from everything she’d worked so hard for. But her nerves had been pushed to the edge, and no words were coming from her lips. 

The caller hung up before she could find the strength to reply. Her hunger faded instantly, taken over by a swell of bile rising in her gut. Her good feelings from just moments ago were gone. As she felt herself on the verge of puking, she dropped her phone on the counter, and ran for the bathroom so her empty stomach could purge itself. Once she had gotten up whatever had been left in her gut, she sat back on the cool tile, and rested her head against the wall. Y/N had no strength or will to move; the stranger’s words “...there could be consequences…” continued to repeat over and over in her head. 

Y/N never did get up to get back to the kitchen, and when Jensen returned home a short time later, that’s where he found her; half asleep with a tear streaked face sitting in the corner of the bathroom. He didn’t ask her any questions, but instead sat beside her and gathered her into his arms, leaving a soft kiss on the top of her head. 

“Whatever it is baby, I promise you, we’ll get through it,” he cooed in comfort as she felt herself melt into his side. Assuming it was stress and anxiety over the festival, he held her close there on the bathroom floor until it was time to leave for the airport. 

That’s when she knew for complete certainty, she wasn’t going to tell him about the call. She would NOT let anyone interfere with all they had worked towards; certainly not some piece of shit like Nathan, or a petty schemer like Dee. Y/N would never let either of them take anything from her, again.

Nathan

He watched as the snotty little redhead and her fancy ass Beamer pulled out of the diner parking lot. Nathan’s face remained stone-like as Dee’s gaze didn’t leave his until she had turned left and sped out of view. Nothing she had said to him gave him a second of pause; no reconsidering, no backing down. Nathan had reached the “couldn’t care less” portion of his actions months ago, and now all he could think about was how to enact the best possible revenge, on all of them. 

Getting lost in his thoughts, he stood motionless in the parking lot, absently watching the traffic pass him by. Austin had a ton of traffic, and people, making it easy for him to blend into his surroundings and stay unnoticed. He knew the cops were looking for him, so he did his best to stay off the radar. It wasn’t until an Austin City cop car slowly passed the diner, that his feet finally decided to move. He still had too much to do before he could put his last plan into place. 

Nathan pulled his hood back up, then shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets as he casually strolled down the busy Austin streets. He cut through a few alleyways, and popped out a few blocks away. Though he looked like a citizen going for a casual stroll, he knew just where he was going. It had taken a while to get the cash he needed, but snatching a few purses from some old ladies, and that one grab ‘n go hold up at the gas station finally gave him what he needed. His fingers felt around in his pockets for the wad of cash that was now bundled there, giving him an odd sense of security. 

None of his plans had worked out since landing back in Jersey last winter. He had tried being friendly and getting back into Y/N’s life the right way. He gave her space and time to realize her own mistakes, as well as hopefully accept and forgive his own. Nathan thought for sure that would bring them together, but instead, she just ran back to this new guy trying to forget all they had meant to each other since they were kids. Just thinking of it caused his heart to pound, and his fists to clench around the silky bundle of bills stashed in his pocket. That money was the key; it would get him what he needed to make one final convincing argument on his own behalf. If she didn’t see how they were meant to be after that, then he would have to go with Plan B.

Hours later, after he purchased the items he needed, he began to wander the streets, trying to clear his head some. As Nathan passed by a hulking skyscraper, he caught his reflection in the mirrored panels of the structure. He saw what a dirty mess he was and decided to head back to the abandoned warehouse outside of the city where most of Austin’s homeless settled in for the night. It was a risk since the cops liked to come in randomly and bust up the encampment, but one he was willing to take. There he could clean up some, find a change of clothes and try to look the part he needed to play for the next few days in order to win back Y/N, once and for all.

Nathan successfully bartered for a clean pair of jeans, an almost new shirt and one use of the make-shift shower. Once he was clean and newly clothed, he found a quiet corner where someone abandoned a sleeping bag, pillow and even a few packets of Ramen noodles. Being an expert at living on the street, Nathan found a way to make the food, then hunkered down onto the sleeping bag. As the soup cooled, he transferred the items from his old jeans to his new ones and then tossed them aside. He wouldn’t need them anymore, because after he talked to Y/N, they would be together, and she could buy him a whole new wardrobe. After all, she was working with the bigwigs now and he was certain she could afford it. 

Picking at the hot noodles, Nathan let himself reminisce on the days when he and Y/N were happy and carefree. Days on the beach, nights on the boardwalk, him and her hand-in-hand. Countless days spent out on her dad’s boat with her and her brother Dave, and just as many nights drinking under the boards, dreaming of what life was like far away from Seaside. Y/N dreamt of being a rock star or some dumb shit, but Nathan knew she wouldn’t have the guts to really leave their hometown. She was a born and bred local, and no real locals ever got too far away. When she actually left and went on to make a new life for herself, he felt betrayed. He felt abandoned and hurt that he wasn’t enough to keep her put. Now, as he sat on the rumpled sleeping back with a cup of steaming, tasteless noodles in hand, he let his free hand slip into the pocket of his jeans again. This time it wasn’t the bulk of cash giving him comfort, but the touch of the cool metal that lived in his pocket. 

“One way or another,” he mumbled, tossing the soup aside with disgust, “I will have my girl and my life back.”

Austin, Day Before Festival Kicks Off...

Thirty-six hours from the start of the festival, Jensen, Y/N, Briana, Robbie, Jared, Gen, Mama and about two hundred volunteers stuffed themselves into the theater where the Burlesque troop would be performing the following evening. The seven of them stood on the stage watching as swarms of people claimed a seat, all talking excitedly about the events that were to follow. Most of them were familiar faces to Jensen and Jared, having worked on the show with them for so long, but the ones they didn’t know, didn’t give them a second of pause or concern. They were all here to lend their time and services for free in an effort to do their part for the city. Every single person that walked through the doors of that theater had been background checked, and vetted through a private sponsor to ensure the safety of the festival goers, the bands, and especially those behind the scenes putting it all together. 

That was one thing Jensen had insisted on when the idea of community volunteers had first come up. It was well before he and Y/N had fallen in love and had run-ins with Nathan and Dee. He needed to be sure that everyone involved would be safe, and in turn the weekend could be a huge success. Two separate private security firms had been hired, with special attention focused on keeping Nathan out. Jensen didn’t think Dee would have the nerve to show her face, but he made sure that each member of the security team had Nathan’s photo and full description. 

Getting lost in his own thoughts as the stream of volunteers finally closed the vestibule doors, he barely noticed Robbie setting up a microphone and begin addressing the crowd. It wasn’t until Y/N casually made her way to his side and brushed against his shoulder, was he able to pull away from his own mind and come back to the present. 

“You okay there, Hollywood?” she whispered, casually glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “Big crowd here. You got stage fright all of a sudden or something?”

“Huh?” he asked, then quickly shook his head, “No, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“About?”

“All of this,” he said and snorted a laugh. “I mean, look at what you put together… all of these people are here because they believe in what you created--”

“What WE created. Jay,” Y/N grabbed Jensen’s hand, and despite two hundred pairs of eyes watching them, turned him towards her and kissed his lips. “I didn’t do this, you didn’t do this. Not Robbie, Bri, Mama… But ALL of us together.”

Before Jensen could respond, Robbie turned his attention towards them, holding out the microphone. When neither of them knew why, he raised his eyebrows then covered the top of the mic with his hand. 

“You wanna jump in on this pep talk, kids?”

Jensen cleared his throat and passed Robbie a sarcastic smile. “My pleasure.” He took the microphone in hand and before he could speak, the applause radiated towards him from the theater like a shock wave. He felt his heart surge at the entire crowd, much like it did every time he was on stage at a convention. The overwhelming love and gratitude was hard to miss when in this type of setting. 

“Thank you guys, really. Y’all are far too kind. It's us who should be applauding you! Because no matter how hard we have collectively worked to put this whole thing together, without you guys lending your time and efforts, it just wouldn’t be possible.”

Another surge of applause from the captivated audience caused Jensen to lower the mic and just enjoy the moment. 

“Seriously, from the bottom of all our hearts, we thank you for not only the love and support you’ve shown us from the get go, but for the love and dedication you are showing to the city of Austin. All the proceeds from ticket sales this weekend will be divided among various city organizations that work towards education enrichment programs, women’s shelters, soup kitchens, including a new music and arts program that will benefit children and teenagers from all across the city.”

Applause again, but this time even more deafening. The sea of faces before him were smiling ear to ear and cheering loudly. As Jensen moved his vision to the right in what felt like slow motion, he caught the wide grins of his closest friends who were sharing the stage with him, who were also clapping along with the crowd. 

Jensen brought the mic up to say more, but he was at a loss for word. The energy and vibe in the theater that night left him speechless, and it took all his will to not let himself shed a tear. Y/N could see his emotions building under the surface, and gently took the mic from his hand. He smiled at her thankfully for it, and took a step back as she proceeded to prepare herself to address the crowd.

“We can’t thank you all enough for the support, and love you brought with you here not only for tonight, but for this entire weekend. Now, we don’t want to take up too much of your time, so I am going to pass the mic over to Ms. Briana Buckmaster who has a few quick things to go over with you. After that, Mama June and I will be at each end of the theater exits handing out your official volunteer shirts for the weekend. One last thing before we get to the nitty gritty, while you are out there working hard to make sure our guests have fun, don’t forget to stop and enjoy the festival yourselves! We have done our best to make sure that all volunteers get plenty of breaks to go enjoy the food and music, as well as give each of you a free admission voucher to pass along to a family member, friend, or just someone you know who would enjoy the event but can’t afford to buy their own ticket. We want this to be an all-inclusive event. So have fun, work hard, and let’s make this something not only the city of Austin, but every other town and city represented here, will never forget!”

For the last time that night, the volunteers cheered and applauded the words of love and encouragement bestowed on them. Y/N passed the microphone to Bri, who’s smile lit up her dimples nearly as bright as the lights of the theater. Briana pulled Y/N into a big hug and held her tightly. Right before she let go, Bri squeezed her and whispered in her ear, “You’ve come a long way from that scared, nervous woman I met New Year’s Eve. I am so fucking proud of you!”

With that, Bri released her from the embrace, reset herself and turned to address the volunteers. Y/N took a step back to stand beside Jensen, and immediately felt his hand snake into hers. They watched on as Bri continued to captivate the audience with her distinct and charming way of explaining the processes and procedures for the weekend. Just as Bri wrapped up her part of the speech, Jensen and Y/N took a moment to meet each other’s gaze. Y/N had all but forgotten the call from the day before, and found herself feeling more confident than ever that everything they had worked so hard for would unfold without a hitch.

Tag List:

Everything:  @coffeebooksandfandom​ / @sorenmarie87​ / @yallgotkik​ / @thefaithfulwriter​ / @sister-winchesters99​ / @thymeheals​ / @keymology​ / @divadinag​

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When You Least Expect It:  @mrsjenniferwinchester​ / @vickyfarley​ / @winchest09​ / @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ / @aomi-nabi​ / @luciathewinchestergirl​ / @alexiswinchester​ / @seppys-return-to-madness / @donnaintx​ / @deans-baby-momma​ / @the-is13 / @stoneyggirl​ / @captaindorit0 / @fanfictionjunkie1112​ / @focusonspn​ / @deanwanddamons​ / @theebeee​ / @ultimatecin73​​ / @deanwinchesterswitch​​

Wanna get in on one of my tag lists? View the different Tag Lists, and send me an ask with which one you’d like to be on! Series Tags are on one sheet, Character tags on a second sheet.

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics Chapter 2.

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by strange shopkeeper Lyrem, everything seems to be going well- almost too well. In fact, Arch's life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as great as it seems....

Directory: [chapter one]

CW: bullying, deadname use (though never revealed), memory problems

-----

CHAPTER TWO: THE OLD WORLD

Earlier that day,

Their name rang down like an emergency alarm bell in their ears, breaking them from a state full of dreams that they wouldn’t remember by the time their feet had touched the floor. Despite the name not belonging to them any longer, Arch would still be forced to hear it until they could find their own place, their own life, their own bed -without their mother screaming down to them both figuratively and literally.

There it was, the damned name again, screaming down from the top of the stairs, and then the tired list of consequences for being lazy came down with it. You'll be late for the bus, you'll be failing class, you'll be working at McDonalds- which wasn’t fair- Arch knew of several kids in their grade making decent money through working at the one on the corner of twenty-sixth avenue and Carmichael Drive.

“Up! I’m up”-

“You have ten minutes, little lady!”

Arch shook off the comment as they found the shirt that they had worn the day previous laying on the carpet by their dresser. They tugged it on, and added some pants to perfect the outfit. Ruffling short bangs and tufting out the sides more evenly, Arch began to look almost like they had a full night of sleep. They hadn’t. Not with the carelessly loud insomniac who lived above them. Not with the dread of existence in this world to keep them up at night either.

Their mother was never a friendly stranger when it came to change, and after a year of begging her to stop buying dresses and skirts for them, their relationship came to an impasse. It was only a month ago that Arch was accused of heinous things like “being ungrateful for the body their Lord gave them”, and acting treacherously like a boy. At that point, Arch locked themselves in the bathroom with a pair of scissors, and didn't emerge until they had chopped their dark hair off just above the ears- leaving their mother crying on the main floor's hallway and praying to the Virgin Mary to save her daughter from the devil's grip.

Arch gave up going to mass after that too.

The truth was, that Arch was never once ashamed of their body or the way it was made- but they did have a keen sense on how they wanted to act, and apparently, it was too masculine for their mother’s comfort level. They weren’t created to be a boy or a girl, but maybe something slightly in between. The parts of their body didn’t matter nearly as much as who they defined themselves as- and as it was contemplated endlessly during sleepless nights, it was decided, by them and them alone that they were Arch.

In the morning rush up the stairs, Arch nearly stepped on the cat, instead of over it. Maleficent decided the near miss was an invitation to play, and dug her pin sharp claws into the denim at the top of their ankle. Arch kicked her off, unceremoniously and pulled their backpack over one shoulder. They were moving too fast to care whether the little beast had drawn blood this time. Skipping breakfast and any goodbyes, Arch was out the door just in time to watch their bus pass them across the street with the students inside, making obscene gestures with their fingers and tongues at them as it drove away.

Arch should have stayed in bed.

“Shit.” They sighed, taking the opportunity to walk through downtown. At the very least they could start looking for a job, a way out of the hellhole their mother called a home. And by the time they graduated, they would be out. They would be free. They would find this job, even if it took all freaking day.

Presently,

“That’s not what it says on your email or on your resume,” Lyrem noted casually, making a quick scrawl in the margins. “I’ll make certain that your name is respected here, but for governmental and tax purposes, I can’t use Arch until you’ve changed it properly.”

“That’s fine,” They responded. “I thought my chances on getting hired might have been better if I used my real name.”

Lyrem regarded them carefully over the cash desk.

“Arch is your real name. I’ll be looking forward to the day that it is recognized as such,” he advised sagely, “besides, it’s not like I haven’t changed mine a hundred times over. I know it can be a pain.”

Arch looked at them skeptically and stepped back.

“Dude, come on, are you fleeing the IRS? Involved with human trafficking”- Arch shook their head.

Lyrem couldn’t have been younger than fifty years of age, and it was very rare to find a man of that time so accepting of these modern values. He briefly glanced up from the generally unimpressive resume and smiled, almost robotically.

“I was only joking.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Arch inquired, “Your shop has been on this street for as long as I can remember; why do you need someone now? Why did the last part-timer leave?”

Lyrem placed the paper down. It was a fair question, reasonable for anyone to ask if they were being hired on so soon.

“I ran this shop with my wife for many years,” he answered honestly. “But… she is gone now…”

Arch raised their eyebrows, a look of sympathy crossing over their face until Lyrem finished their sentence.

“- Drained my savings account without my knowledge and ran off to Cuba with some ugly bastard named Phillip.”

Oh.

“I just hope she can still find happiness.” Lyrem finished, trailing off.

Oh.

“Sorry I asked.”

Lyrem shrugged.

“You’d have found out eventually, I’m sure. I may rant to you from time to time, I hope that is not an issue.”

“No, never. I love a good rant.” Arch grinned slightly sideways.

“Dress code: simply look presentable, is all I ask- don’t smell like patchouli, I suppose, is another thing, and you can play music in the store as long as it’s tasteful. There’s a record player in the corner.”

Arch had gazed around, there was indeed, a record player in the corner, but an old one- one they had assumed was merely for display use only. The entire shop was set up like something out of a seventies television series. The shag rug in the corner held a couple deep orange velour wingback chairs with the record player nestled between them by the window. Did people just sit in here to hang out?

The hanging chandelier over the desk was stained with a foggy yellow glass, and the shelves of tarot decks and mystical books were perfectly arranged alphabetically by subject, then by author. Lyrem continued as Arch took in the layout of the store.

“There is some Holst, Tchaikovsky, John Denver, Earth, Wind, and Fire and even some Segovia”-

“Mm. What’s Segovia?” Arch asked, turning back to him.

Lyrem’s face fell into utter disappointment. “You heard it yesterday, at the coffee shop.”

Arch didn’t expect such an offended response but then their face twisted in confusion.

“The coffee place was playing City and Colour,” Arch responded, recounting their chance meeting with total clarity. “Everyone knows City and Colour.”

Lyrem suddenly looked quite shaky. Arch moved around the side of the counter as he paled. Unsure what to do, they helped Lyrem into the stool in nestled behind the register in the corner.

“Do you need some water or something? Medication?”

“No!” Lyrem stood upright, pushing Arch away as they crowded him. “No, I’m fine!”

With a raised eyebrow, Arch backed off, suddenly rethinking the opportunity here.

“Apologies, Arch.” Lyrem grounded himself. “I didn’t mean to get so worked up over that.”

Arch looked at him sideways, and changed the subject-

“It happens… Teach me how to use the till?”

Lyrem nodded, attempting to brush off the odd discovery as simply an accident of the aging mind.

The evening shift progressed without further flaw, and after a tour of the store and several small sales later, Arch was taught to close out the till, and to close the store. It was shortly after eight when they both stood outside, and Lyrem handed over a set of silver keys to them.

“There you are. Now, I will put together a proper schedule that will fit around your school hours and have it to you tomorrow when you come in.”

Arch nodded. “Four o’clock?”

“Precisely.”

Arch turned to the left, heading home to the condo toward the southeast. They turned, a thank you, was on the verge of leaving their lips when they realized that Lyrem had left already, and was no where to be seen. The sun was just dipping below the horizon as Arch returned to the street, assuming their employer turned down the alley already to retrieve their vehicle. Arch walked the way home with contented steps, feeling proud- unstoppable, even.

[sigilsmut]

Salty Tears

michael myers x reader | guidelines

Staring down at him with tears crowding your eyes , the thoughts couldn’t help but to enter and swirl around in your head , making you rethink of your relationship multiple times , this time making you very weary. And... almost feel hopeless , you fought your hardest to resist running your hands through his soft chocolate hair and soothe him of his own thoughts , though you protested against your urges. You continued to stare at the older man’s sleeping form , the voices forming and crowding in your head increasing in volume.

‘ There was no way in hell that he actually loves you’ , one spat , ‘You are merely his plaything , nothing more than that , another said. ‘Stop trying to show him love , you’re not worthy , he’s empty and you know it. If you think he’ll ever return your supposed love then you’re a bigger fool than you think you are. WAKE UP. ’.

You have had enough now , listening to these negative thoughts that only seemed to be getting louder and screaming out you , tears clouding your vision and falling onto Michael’s chest at this point. Feeling your breathing hitch and catching a lump in your throat , you hastily threw yourself off of Michael and practically ran down the stairs in desperate need for some refreshing water. Michael’s eyes shot open and were as wide as dinner plates , having felt your small weight suddenly ripped off from atop of him. He quickly sat up with an expression of frustration and silently ghosted down the stairs , immediately wanting to know what was the meaning of this. He listened for you , and all he heard were very faint sobs , pausing and continuing. Confused , but having his hands ready to choke whoever the hell was in your house , he followed the noise that gradually increased , eventually reaching the kitchen. To his surprise , he found you leaning against the countertop , tears running down your face nonstop , and a glass of water in your hands. Each time you stopped to take a long sip , then take the glass from your mouth and continue your evening sobs. The stalker’s head tilted to the side in confusion , what in the hell were you crying for ?

It took you long enough but your red eyes finally glanced upward in his direction , only a few seconds before you began to cry harder and your gaze fell back to the ground. He observed the scene before him and stalked towards you , grabbing your chin to look up at his eyes so he can examine you better. Upon further inspection , your eyes were puffy and red , tear stains down your cheeks and big fat tears falling off your cheeks and onto the ground , and the most sorrowful and bothered expression you wore. All of a sudden his chest got tighter the longer he stared down at you , for some reason a lump was forming in his own throat as well, and he hated that. He hates when feelings started to grow and stir within him , especially because of you , and he doesn’t understand them or how to get rid of them.

Suddenly your expression grew sour and you ripped your chin away from his grasp with fury , scurrying back to the corner you were standing in and continued to gulp down your water. His eyes went wide , glaring at you with a stern look , how dare you. He went to grab you again-

“Michael , just STOP.”

Your trembling hand was raised , somehow preventing him from walking any further towards you. You put your hand back down and without even saying anything , you stood there with your shaking hands struggling to hold the glass of water , your eyes avoiding his cold brown eyes piercing into you , his gaze glaring at your very soul , silently demanding an explanation.

“I’m just so tired..... me being the idiot that I am keeps thinking that maybe we could share even a little bit of actual intimacy. But what the fuck am I thinking ? Of course you don’t love me like I love you , why would I even think of being anything more than your plaything ? God only knows why you came down here , you probably don’t even give two shits , whatever ! It’s fine........”

You spat at him as pure venom filled your words. You felt so heartbroken and hatred and almost... empty , as you finally came to wrap your head around it and accept reality : Michael was never going to love you. Why would he ? He never wanted your company unless it was to fulfill his own needs , besides , he probably thinks you’re stepping out of line. If you weren’t benefiting him then he deemed you as useless and would kill you without hesitation , and you knew that well. Or so it seems...

Michael on the other hand was being overwhelmed with emotions , the somewhat toxicity of the relationship seemingly being lifted from the air , permanently almost. Through analyzing the situation , he now understood why his chest felt so tight , why the lump in his throat was getting bigger , why you were crying.......

He never knew , or at least cared to know , that you ever felt this way. He was oblivious to your true intentions of keeping him here with you and trying to nuzzle into him every now and then , to get a reaction out of him other than slapping your hand away or choking you. He had only ever felt love from his mother , and even then he never actually returned that love. Was it the fact that he never cared to love you or maybe.. he wanted to but he mentally and emotionally wasn’t allowed to , ultimately pushing those feelings away and avoiding any possible means of affection ? Seeing you in this state.. almost pushed him to take action rather than just standing there and taking everything in. Your eyes were closed and didn’t notice him stepping towards you , jumping in surprise as a deep and scratchy , rough voice cut through the air like a knife and grumbled :

“(Y.../N.....).....”

You stood there , shocked , he almost never talked , it took a while to get used to his one to two word sentences , but he never called you by your actual name. You looked up at the mountain of a man and finally saw his eyes , seeing the frustration and.. melancholy shining in them. You’ve never seen such sadness expressed in those cold brown orbs of his , a frown visibly painted across his chapped and scarred lips , and- was, was he crying ? Faint but apparent single tears rolled down his cheeks , Michael finally letting loose and felt that vulnerable feeling take over his entire body. The feeling of weakness rushed in his bones , pumping his blood , and ultimately wrapping his arms around your small frame and pulling you as close as he could , breathing in your scent and closing his eyes. This hold felt different , it felt as if he was afraid that if he let go you’d be snatched away from him at the drop of a hat. You felt the tears spilling onto the top of your head as you put down the glass and returned his bear hug to realize that..

You have him feeling this way , only around you. You came to realize that he’d do anything to protect you , just by the way he was holding you right now , and the only person that he would ever show his weakness and vulnerability is you and you alone. You broke down his walls and with years and years of trust , in his own way , he was opening up to you , and reassuring you of your insecurities. Passionate silence filled the air and took place where toxicity once hung low around , you both knew that you didn’t need words to express yourselves clearly. Of course he’d never show it , it’s very very rare considering that he’s Michael Myers , but in a way that he knows best , his touch starved self tells and shows you from time to time in his actions that he did indeed fall in love with you.

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

In Regards

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: Plot is mine and the characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made.

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG overall

The second in a series based on letters between Doc Holliday and Bobo Del Rey depicting a shift in their relationship and some demons to exorcise.

Author’s Note: It’s soft!Hollirey hours at this campfire so you get sweetness, friends. Mosey on along if that’s not your cup of tea or sit a spell if it is. We like friends ‘round here.

Direct Sequel to “Dear John”.

*~*~*~*

In Regards

He shouldn’t be surprised how hard it is to not only find the right medium to respond, but the right way to do it as well. Honestly, he rather envied the other the ease with which words seemed to come. Doc was better with the more physical approach but wasn’t quite sure how well that would translate on paper. He huffs slightly before laughing because as difficult as it was it wasn’t something he resented the other for.

Quite the opposite. It was a challenge and above all else, that man knew he liked a challenge.

So he finds himself sitting at the bar sans drink contemplating exactly what he might reply. Idly his fingers curl and uncurl next to him as he considers carefully.

As it turns out, too carefully because his train of thought is interrupted by Wynonna asking, “Are you trying to solve the world’s problems or figuring out the best way to kill someone? ‘Cause you are a little more focused than I’ve ever seen you get and you’re also not drinking.”

“Nothin’ that profound I’m afraid,” he answers immediately trying to sound almost bored, “Wool-gathering mostly.”

“Sounds painful, I wouldn’t suggest it too much.”

He snorts at her attempt at what was a joke. Thankfully, he had enough knowledge of the Earp line in general to know how to keep them off the scent of trouble. At least for a time. He was sure she’d get suspicious eventually.

Doc was more than happy for that to be way in the future.

He orders a drink just to placate her and maybe as a way to figure out what he was supposed to reply. Or how to. Words had never been his thing. That was Wyatt. He more preferred shooting to talking things out.

So of course he would prefer a man who seemed to delight in being a wordsmith. Of course.

Not to say that Bobo Del Rey couldn’t be concise because he could be. Sharp and cutting and blunt. So very blunt. But then again, he had a six-page bit of evidence that he could also take his time.

But Bobo liked to call him “insufferable”. The thought is amusing somewhat and he brings the cup to his lips deciding that he’d much rather drink than be asked why he was suddenly grinning like a fool. He really needed to get this under control but control is not something he’d had in a very, very long time. Sometimes, he thinks he prefers it that way.

Unknowingly, it takes him the same two days to get what he wanted written down with a lot of restarts and crossing out and cursing at the paper, himself, Bobo Del Rey, and everyone else he could think of for even considering this.

But it was finally done so he could go and give it to the damned man plaguing entirely too much of this thoughts and time (even though he doesn’t mind as much as he acts).

*~*~*~*

Bobo never should have done it. It was the thought that haunted him immediately after leaving the station and allowing that letter to actually go to it’s intended recipient. It was the worst idea and it would end no doubt with him being humiliated (again). And he was pretty sure he deserved it for naivety at this point. Running a hand over his face, Bobo shoves the feelings as hard away as he could. It was done, it was fine, and it wasn’t like he wanted this thing between him and Doc to actually be something.

He didn’t. Absolutely not.

A growl escapes him; deep and annoyed and he shoves a few things off the table in front of him but is, of course, careful not to go near the quill and ink pot. “Dammit it all,” he snarls as he drops his head onto the clear surface, “I should have killed him and been done with it!”

Stupid, he was so stupid still. Did he never learn? Why did he think…

Sharp rapping has his attention and his teeth grind together before he rises and stalks for the door intending on removing whatever body parts he could reach of the person stupid enough to intrude on him. Throwing open the door, however, has him having to rethink that.

Because the intruder is the goddamn man he’s been frustrated by for far longer than he’d like to think about. “Doc Holliday,” he says slowly, “To what do I owe your approach of my…humble abode?” The other merely steps in going so far as to push him into backing up. “Right, just let yourself right in then.”

“You are an absolute menace, you realize.”

Bobo gifts him wth a lazy smile. “Demon, remember? I sort of figured that came with the job. Now, did you come all this way to remind me that I’m a Revenant? Because honestly, John Henry, I already know that.”

“Do you? Because sometimes it seems like you don’t know anythin’ of the sort.”

Grandstanding. The man was grandstanding. The walls were thin and whatever this was could not be overheard. He knew the other well enough to know when he was putting on a show. So he steps closer, enough for them nearly to be touching. “Don’t like how I ‘demon’ then by all means do it better yourself,” he responds cooly, “As you’ll recall, there’s an agreement with the Earp Heir mostly because I’m tired of the idiocies. So if you have a complaint take it up with her.” It was easy, using this as a conversational piece and he feels the light shift of his hand along his coat in the vicinity of his pocket and knows exactly why the man was here.

“One can never be too careful ‘bout their allies such as they are. I wanted to be sure you understood the parameters.”

“Of course I do, Doc,” he says sarcastically, “I’m behaving. We’re behaving. She has no reason to come down here and shoot the place up.”

Doc leaves not long after that. Bobo is almost sorry for not getting a kiss but he was far more interested in his coat. The door is barely shut when he reaches and his fingers find an envelope in the pocket. Something hot fills him and he pulls it out. He’d actually written back.

He’d…

Moving, he makes sure to lock the door properly before moving back to the table and setting it down. He wants to make every denial he could but it was clear anticipation that roils hot through him. Of course there’s the nagging fear that what was written was bad but…

But Doc had written back. It was more than…well, it was more than he’d gotten in the past. It was best not to dredge that unpleasantness up so he decides and focuses on what was in front of him (his future). With that in mind, he carefully pulls out the paper hoping that whatever he would find would take what was left of him.

That he feared that said more about what he had with Doc than he’d like. And Doc called him a menace…

“Robert,

Ain’t the writin’ type, you know that. Ain’t my style or in my wheelhouse but..you do enjoy this so I’ll make a token attempt. For you. Funny how easy that seems but don’t suppose it matters how we got here. We’re here regardless…”

The words are coarse and abrupt somewhat like the man could be when he wanted but…it was John Henry so Bobo could forgive him. And let him use that name. He’d earned it. He gazes over the rest letting himself drink in the short two page reply the other had managed and finds that fear slowly inching back more and more. This was not the letter of a man who would show up one day with a cocked fist and a warning to never be that familiar in the future.

It’s the lines before the closing though that banishes that fear: “I may not match your eloquence or length but you are always welcome and encouraged to correspond if the feeling takes you. I will never refuse such a gift from you.”

He folds the letter and places it in the envelope before tucking it safely away out of sight of prying eyes,lips curved into a smile. “If you insist, John Henry,” he murmurs softly, almost tenderly, “Then I very much look forward to it.”

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Paul

(Not my gif)

- You met Paul at a concert. You were there with your friends and had turned to ask them something only to find you were all alone. You fought your way through the crowd looking for them before you were pushed into a hard body.

- When you looked up you saw this Bon Jovi looking ass motherfucker. He turned to look at the person who bumped into him with a glare before his face turned into one of confusion. He finally looked down at the ground where you were close to being trampled. When he saw you he bent down and offered you a hand with a smirk playing on his lips.

“You alright sweetheart?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry about that but have you seen some girls-” you describe your friends as he pretends to look concerned.

“Hey, why don’t I help you look for them?”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course, can’t let a pretty girl like you wander around alone.”

- Just as the others in the gang were about to grab you, you saw your friends walk past and you quickly excused yourself, thanking him for his help. 

- You figured you would never see the man again and tried your best to forget about his ridiculously handsome face. That is until you got lost while trying to find your way home. 

- You had somehow gotten turned around in the crowds along the boardwalk and ended up on some abandoned side street with no clue of where you were. You were just trying to find a phone booth or someone who could point you in the right direction when you heard a motorcycle riding up behind you. 

- You were a little worried as the bike stopped beside you (considering you were all alone with no way of defending yourself), that is until you noticed just who was on the vehicle. 

“Oh hey, it’s you!” You smiled and the man offered you a charming grin as he leaned against the handlebars of his bike. 

“You alright Sweetheart?”

- You told him about the predicament you were in and he quickly offered you a ride home insisting he knew exactly how to get to your street; you figured you had nothing to lose and accepted. Surprisingly enough the handsome stranger wasn't an ax murderer and actually took you home, well, to the end of your street. You didn’t want to just lead a stranger to your door no matter how attractive he was. 

- When you were just about to part ways he asked you out saying something alone the lines of  “I think you’re gorgeous and I think you like me as much as I like you so how about I take you out sometime?”

- A bit cocky but sweet enough, so you decide to give it a try. Your first date is obviously at night, he takes you to an ice cream shop on the boardwalk and the two of you get to know each other better. 

- You wind up having your first kiss that same night; you get ice cream on your lip and he moves in and kisses it off. It’s horribly cliche but cute and you should honestly expect nothing less from Paul.

- By the end of the night you decided that you definitely wanted to keep seeing him and Paul decided he liked you as a girlfriend rather than a meal soo... yay?

- The instant he sees you there is a smile on his face, you just have that effect on him. His day is instantly 100x better.

- He’s picked you up and flown around with you, sometimes it’s to scare you and other times it’s sort of romantic. He’s also held you to him and hung with one hand gripping the train track. You threatened to break up with him if he ever did that one to you again.

- Matching fishnet.

- This gang is full of jealous possessive man eating bastards. It’s half ‘they’re my mate and I love them’ complex and half ‘how dare you even think you could compare to me’ complex.

- You’ll be talking to some guy at the bar or wherever and all of a sudden there will be a tight grip on your shoulder. If you turn around his lips are going to be on yours in 0.02 seconds. If you don’t he just stands behind you glaring at the guy until he uncomfortably excuses himself.

- He’s constantly chewing gum or something like it. He has an oral fixation

“Paul if you want me to kiss you take that shit out of your mouth.”

- He seems to always be touching you. You won’t even realize it sometimes, you’ll just be zoning out thinking about nothing in particular and suddenly he’ll be at your side with his arm wrapped around you.

- His eyes roam your body whenever he sees you. Partly because he’s usually horny and partly because he just finds you so beautiful.

- Anything you do makes him hot and bothered so expect some impromptu make out sessions.

- He’s a pretty goofy person, anyone can see that even if they don’t really know him. You’re always laughing and joking around with each other. He lives to see you smile. 

- He has both his arms wrapped around you most of the time; he’s usually hugging you from behind.

- He rests his chin on your hand or shoulder a lot. If you put your palm out his chin will be on it in seconds, sometimes you question if your hands are magnetic.

- He makes it obvious to everyone that you’re his at all times. Everyone must know that the two of you are dating. 

“Come on babygirl we’re leaving.”

- Helping him shave and do his hair since he can’t goddamn see himself in mirrors.

- Comparing him to glam rock singers; he’s very proud whenever you tell him that he has *insert singers* hair or eyes or whatever.

- Really enthusiastic about dangerous activities. Paul why are you so excited to jump off a cliff you adrenaline junkie.

- Sarcasm is a big thing in the relationship especially when fighting.

“Well damn darling why don’t I just turn vegetarian if you don’t like me killing people?”

- You fought often during the beginning of your relationship but things got better later on. It was your first few big fights that led him to rethink everything and realize just how much he cared about you. After you get through those he’s genuinely one of the best boyfriends you could ever have and the two of you rarely fight unless you really have to. 

- Most of the time you fought because he flirted too much.  It was hard for him; a male vampire whose probably hundreds of years old, to understand how a teenage girl or young adult feels. He didn’t do anything to purposefully hurt your feelings but he just didn’t see the big deal. 

- When you’d fight he’d say a lot of things he didn’t mean before he’d angrily storm out, leaving you all alone. You’d usually walk home in a huff not wanting to wait however long it would take for him to come back. Except when he comes back and sees you’re not there he’ll get even angrier and decide to ignore you.

- No matter how much he might want to in the moment he can never hold a grudge. When you cross each other’s paths a day or so later he’ll start to say something to you only for you to just walk on by. It hurts, more than he could ever imagine and he mopes for the rest of the night before he’s actually ready to apologize. 

- He’ll randomly show up at your window to apologize, you’ll be sitting on your bed or at your desk and just hear a persistent knocking. Your initial reaction is probably just to look up with a blank/ annoyed face because you already kinda know what this is about.

- You’ll go and open the window and he’ll pop out, scaring the hell out of you which doesn’t really help his situation although the flowers he has does. He’ll crawl inside, putting the flowers on your table before he turns to you and opens his arms for a hug.

- He’s not that great at apologizing but if the flowers didn’t fix everything he’ll give an actual worded apology a try, promising that he’s learned from his mistake and telling you just how much he wants you back. 

- Being slightly afraid when he’s around your neck expecting him to turn you or drain your blood even though you’re pretty sure that’s not how it works with the gang. You still have a bunch of hickeys though even if you’re kinda nervous while it’s happening.

- Making out like horny teenagers but also like medieval lovers from romance novels. There’s just a lot of passion between the two of you. 

- He wants to be as close to you as possible 90% and is a certified cuddler.

- You basically lay on top of him when you cuddle; your head will rest on his chest, your chest to his stomach and your legs tangled with his.

- Sexual innuendos, you always have to slap his chest because he just. won’t. stop.

- Probably likes you to sit in front of him when riding on his motorcycle so he can kiss your cheek and neck.

- Playful pushing and wrestling. He especially likes to pin you down while he just about straddles you.

- He likes calling you pretty lady, sweetheart, babygirl and doll.

- Sitting on his lap constantly, mostly because he tugs you onto his lap as soon as he’s sitting down.

- He has you put eye shadow and eyeliner on him. At first you were the one to ask if you could do his makeup to which he replied “put it on me doll” but then he shocked you by asking you to do it himself. 

- A lot of stupid games like truth or dare and hide and seek. He’s childish but adorable.

“Can I dare you to give me a blowjob?”

“No Paul you cannot.”

- Being slightly scared of David, he gives you wolfish grins whenever he sees you look at him and finds it amusing when you look away and grab onto Paul. David; and all the others in the gang, low key want you for themselves. 

- He randomly shows up to where you are and distracts you if you can’t leave right then and there.

“What the hell are you doing here!?”

“...I missed you.”

- He picks you up and makes you wrap your legs around him. If you don’t you’ll fall so you really have no choice. He likes the feel of your legs around him ;)

- He only turns you when you’re ready and the two of you spend the rest of your eternal lives together.

[holidaywishes]

the song part 3

Part III: Sing for Me

  Summary: Calli continues to resist Lydia’s help; Scott does his best to mitigate the situation and Calli and Theo grow closer

  Author’s Note: I’m sort of enjoying writing this because I loved the show and it helps me take my mind off work. So I hope you read and enjoy it!

  Warnings: Nothing I can think of

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

Calli’s P.O.V

  You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with what happened at the house but if, by some chance, that what they were saying was true you had to come to terms with the fact that what you were made you rethink every relationship you’d ever had, every good thing that happened, every bad thing, everything. All you could do now was pace around the city to try to escape the thoughts roaming through your head; unfortunately this led you to a not-so-great neighbourhood.

  “Shit” you whispered to yourself, unsure of how you wound up near DUMBO, but there you were, stranded beneath that stupid overpass the neighbourhood was named after. You looked at your phone just before it died leading you to drop it exhaustively to your side and you shook your head. You noticed a group of people on the other side of the street and, reluctantly, you thought to yourself, “they can’t be that bad can they?” before walking over to them for help

  “Excuse me…” you called out quietly, “I’m sorry, could you.. do you have a phone I could use?” You managed to get out before you noticed the men in front of you look you up and down and you braced yourself for the worst

  “What’s in it for us?” one of them said before your eyes finally caught his and, suddenly, his demeanor changed, “I’m.. I shouldn’t have said.. here’s my phone. Take it, keep it…” he mumbled and your eyebrows furrowed at his confusing change; you smiled to the group of men as you listened to the dial tone, waiting for your Uncle to answer

  “Hello?” Theo said from the other line and you weren’t sure what to say

  “I need help,” was the first thing that came out and he was frantically trying to figure out what was wrong, “hold on for a second. My phone just died and I need to get home. Is my Uncle there? Or even Lydia?”

  “I can help” he said, almost sadly

  “I didn’t mean it like that, Ron just knows the city better…” 

  “I’m sure I can find you,” he said before a giggle crept across his voice, “especially if you call to me...”

  “Call to you?” you asked and sighed, “is this about the stupid Siren thing? It’s not true, it’s not real. You’re all insane.” You heard Theo laugh on the other end of the phone and you rolled your eyes. “Fine, whatever. I’ll find my own way home. I’m sure I’m not that far…”

  “Where are you?”

  “DUMBO”

  “I’ll find you. Just don’t move…” he replied and you hung up the phone, smiling as you gave it back to the man.

  “Thank you, I appreciate it” you said

  “Is there anything else we can do? I’m sure a beautiful girl like you doesn’t want to be alone in a neighbourhood like this…” another one of the men finally said and you scoffed at him 

  “I’ll be fine. I can handle myself better than you’d think” you turned to walk away but before you could get too far you felt a hand grab your arm

  “I’m sure you can, but please, bella,” he pleaded aggressively, “let me protect you”

  “No thanks, I’m good” you chided

  “I think that’s a mistake,” his body soon took over the small space between the two of you and his eyes seemed to darken at your resistance, “a very big mistake”

  “Let go of me” you squirmed but his grip tightened every time you moved and he snarled at you, baring his teeth making your eyes widen

  “You must have very bad luck little girl. So far away from home, all alone, thinking someone is coming to rescue you,” he smiled and moved his mouth beside your ear, “but I know what you are…” You really were started to get tired of this, it must have been something that Lydia had set up to make you ‘fight’ or whatever. It wouldn’t work.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

  “I know who you know, and I know what they can do…” his words were starting to confuse you and you couldn’t keep track of what was happening, “call them”

  “I don’t have a phone,” you snarked, “remember?”

  “That’s not what I mean princess.” He looked at you for a few minutes, hand still tightly wrapped around your arm, before finally speaking again.“Sing for me…”

  “Are you insane?” you yelled and his grip tightened, “let me go!”

  “Let me hear that beautiful voice of yours…” he insisted and you realized that this wasn’t going to end

  “You knew I would be here didn’t you?” you asked, finally realizing how you ended up in this mess, the man smiling widely at you as he nodded, “you knew I’d need help…”

  “Yes.” he grinned before pushing his lips next to your ear, “but I don’t want you. I want him…”

  “Who?”

  “Scott McCall.” You furrowed your brow, what did he want with Scott?

  “What do you expect me to do?” you tried sounding sure of yourself but the worried look in your eyes gave you away

  “Call him”

  “I barely know him”

  “CALL HIM!”

  “I CAN’T!” You were starting to wonder where Theo was. You weren’t that far from home so he should’ve gotten to you by now

  “You don’t know how? Just call out his name, however loud you need to, and he’ll come. I promise he will…” Your eyes hurriedly ran across his face and you couldn’t believe that you were about to agree to something you weren’t even sure you believed. But you were desperate.

  “Let me go and I’ll do it.” You bargained and he finally took his hands off you. You turned your back to him and closed your eyes

  “Scott…” you whispered, “I’m in trouble. Scott? Can you hear me?”

xx

Scott’s P.O.V

  “We shouldn’t have let her leave like that” you argued with the group

  “She was going to do whatever she wanted” Peter chided

  “We’re supposed to help her, that’s what we do”

  “Guess she doesn’t want our help” Liam sighed

  “Of course she does,” Lydia tried, “she just… doesn’t know it yet”

  “Scott, I think you’re forgetting something” Theo said, quieter than he’d ever been

  “What’s that?” Derek snarked

  “You’re trying to make her believe something that she has no proof of, we all are,” he began, “but she can’t see what we’re saying she is. She can see what we are, because we can show her but how do you tell someone they’re a harbinger of death and get them to believe it?”

  “We told her Lydia was a Banshee…” Mason interjected

  “And how did that work out?” Theo asked and Mason shrugged before sitting down

  “What are you trying to say Theo?” you asked, trying to get him to get to the point

  “I’m saying that we need to let her.. learn what she is instead of just telling her that she’s something awful. Lydia had to learn what she was because there was a Darach chasing after everyone. Calli doesn’t have that issue.”

  “Well she might,” Lydia added, “you do remember that we’re here because I thought she was in trouble right?”

  “I’d listen to the kid,” Peter interrupted, “let the Siren do whatever she’s gonna do. She’ll learn what she is when she’s ready…” You sat down and listened to the group argue back and forth, when the phone rang

  “I got it” Theo called out as he bounced to answer the phone; he hung up the phone and abruptly ran out of the house. While the group continued to argue, you wandered off to clear your head when you heard something, almost like a whisper, call out to you

  “Scott? Can you hear me?” you didn’t even realize that you’d left the house to follow what you assumed was Calli’s voice; you were just as surprised when you saw Theo hidden behind a building 

  “Theo?” you whispered, “What are you doing? we have to help her!”

  “Scott?” he said quizzically, before you started toward Calli and the men surrounding her, “wait stop. They’re not going to hurt her”

  “That’s not what it looks like” you challenged

  “Scott enough,” he pushed you back, “I’ve been here long enough to hear their conversation. They know you’re here and somehow they knew what she was. They’re using her to get you here…”

  “So what are we supposed to do? We can’t just let them hurt her”

  “They won’t hurt her,” Theo assured you, leaving you confused, “they need her. If they hurt her, she won’t do anything to help them.” You took his lead for a bit but Calli’s voice kept breaking through to you; though she wasn’t calling for you anymore

  “Theo? Please…” you turned to Theo whose eyes had grown wide, and he just shrugged in your direction before the two of you listened closer to Calli’s voice as she spoke to the man holding her tightly, “listen, there’s nothing I can do. I did what you asked and it didn’t work. Scott’s not gonna show up, I told you it wouldn’t work…”

  “Well then…” the man started, “I guess I have no use for you then.” You noticed Calli’s eyes shoot open and the man’s posture seemed to cover her; Theo ran out, much to your surprise, before anything could happen to Calli

  “Let her go..” he called and the man turned to him, forcing you to run out as well and the man smiled

  “There he is… The Alpha,” he snickered, “I knew you’d show up for your pack.”

  “Let her go” you repeated bluntly.

xx

Calli’s P.O.V

  The fighting between Scott and Theo and these men who forced you to bring them here was intense but it went very quickly. You watched as your cousins two friends flew by like lightning while you could only sit back and try to stay out of their way but you found yourself wanting to help. Though you were sure you’d get everyone killed if you tried

  “Calli GO!” Scott yelled and you darted in the other direction but stopped when you heard something break, fearing it might have been bone. You turned around to find Theo pinned to the ground and Scott’s arms were being held behind his back as the men continued to attack him. You hated seeing the two of them… defeated… so you reluctantly tried to help. 

  “Please stop,” you said quietly, almost whispering, before walking toward the group, “let them go. Whatever you want from them, from Scott, you’re not going to get anything out of him if he can’t talk…”

  “He’ll heal” one of the men said and you rolled your eyes

  “Only once you’ve given him a chance to heal,” you nudged, “so why don’t you give him a chance to heal?” The men slowly back away, allowing Theo to stand up and rush to Scott’s aid but the one who had been so aggressive with you at the start had yet to flinch

  “I told you,” he said, “your abilities don’t work on me little girl”

  “I’m just asking you to do me a favour, it’s not an ability,” you tried, “it’s a request. Please, they’ve had enough.” You noticed something in his face soften, his eyes grew apologetic and he stepped away from Theo and Scott. Once the men were out of sight, you let out a heavy sigh of relief, completely unaware you were holding anything in

  “Took you long enough” Theo said, rubbing his shoulder slightly

  “What do you mean?” you asked, glancing at Scott

  “To accept that you are what we said you are”

  “I asked a bunch of guys to stop beating you up. Politely. And they did. It has nothing to do with the supernatural or whatever you think I’m supposed to believe”

  “Calli,” Scott said softly, “after everything you’ve seen, you still don’t believe that we’re werewolves?”

  “I don’t know what I believe” you answered, dropping your head before turning to walk home.

[emotionalcello-makefanfics]

Summary :

“Excuse me, I think you underestimate the power of your cute smile. Nuclear warheads from the east throughout the west got nothing on you.” After solving a case, a detective tried to flirt with a hard-faced FBI agent. It doesn't go smoothly, but that doesn't mean he's going to stop. - - - - - “Smile to me like that again then I might not survive the night,” Chris swoons, and the one blushing is somehow Hotch, “Have you not been flirted on before?” “Not as boldly and creative as you do.” “Well, get ready Hotch, because I’m just getting started.”

Sequel : That Body = Absolute Unit and Not Now, But Someday

No Warnings Applied

Click title to read on ao3. Click keep reading to read on tumblr~

Words : 4k

The case of man shredder is finally closed. After four long days of following chunks of bodies in the alleys, they finally caught the unsub. It was the longest day he had ever experienced, and he had walked behind a hundred-year-old lady on the subway stairs before.

Detective Hamlyn – Chris for friends and lovers of the night- huffed and undo his bulletproof vest when they finally return to his precinct while police officers contain the unsub. The police officers, him included, notify the victim’s family, and their reaction is just as expected. They did a little briefing and say good work and goodnight as they close the case and tidy up.

The B.A.U. team seems rightfully s tired but they looked relaxed as they take this case as a win, so does Chris. With that, he feels it’s the right time to ask.

“Hey, Emily?” he called the agent by her first name. The last four days, he’s been bonding with agent Prentiss the most, though his true attention has been towards someone else. His hand inconspicuously pulls back his already rolled-up sleeves. Rubbing his arms as his warm beige skin starts to look paler.

“What’s wrong?” The agent narrowed her perfectly twin eyebrows. Her concerned voice and body language were caught by her colleagues who are sending the two of them watchful looks.

Chris had learned by working with them how scary their knowledge is, almost borderline supernatural. It’s crazy, but damn do they work.

“Nothing’s wrong!” Chris exclaimed in low voice.

“You looked nervous.”

Chris is doing his super-duper poker face right now. Maybe he needs to rethink his life choices too.

“I’m just... okay...” Chris groaned and wing it, “I didn’t see any ring so I’ve been meaning to ask if-”

“Oh...” Emily, flutter her pretty long lashes and leans away, “Sorry Chris, I’m not looking.”

Chris gapes, with eyebrows reaching to his hairline, “I’m not asking about you Em, no offense, you cute, but I was asking about...” Chris looks right and left, purposely ignoring Emily’s shocked expression. Chris leans down a bit and whispered, “I wanna ask if Hotch is single.”

Emily visibly froze, while Chris looks into the conference room with the mirror board through the glass window. By the oval desk he prepared for the BAU team, Hotch is by the table, reading case files and putting them in the file box.

To be honest, older man is not his type, and his face wasn’t that high on his priority list too. But seeing the man in action made Chris feel things in his chest, his head, and at some inappropriate point, his crotch. Honest to the holy gods, they were serious and focused on the job, and there was no romantic moment at all, but Chris is not the one holding the joystick to control who his heart rebels for.

SSA Aaron Hotchner, a man of few words, and a hard face. He doesn’t know how much suit and dress shirt the man brings but it seems like he’s been wearing the same black suit, and the same maroon tie with small dots and the same thin striped dress shirt.

In all the four days he’s here, never once did Chris ever seen him smile, not even a quirk upwards. His raven hair loosely coiffed, and eyes dark and deep and it just looks like two black holes with no end. They seem cold, devoice of emotion, but Chris knows that’s not true.

Under the light of day, when he tagged along with the unit chief to do a door to door interview, he saw the light hits his black irises. As they were concluding what they learned from the interviews, all that Chris can focus on is the light tint of olive green in Hotch’s eyes. Then slowly but surely, those sharp dark deep-set eyes pierce through his soul.

There’s more to that man than what he gave an impression of. Chris has been there as the man gives clear and cut-throat instruction, but at the same time considerate. Hotch is efficient, looks like a hard worker, respected by his team, but sometimes, when Hotch was all by himself, Chris can see how tired the man is. Even so, right now, the man just quirks up the tiniest smile as he looks into the missing teenager they saved.

His heart just stopped right there and then. A glint of light shines from his dark aura. Chris knows... oh he just knows he needs to get closer... He’s never been drawn to something this hard since he saw an authentic leather cowboy pants 20% off on Amazon

Maybe Chris just has a thing for mysterious emo boys? Well, not exactly mysterious emo boys. More like a stoic man, with a lot of baggage because of the emotionally draining job.

It helps that Hotch is dashingly handsome, and in contrast to his looks, Aaron is such a cute and boyish name.

TLDR: Chris is feeling some burning desire for the tall, dark and handsome FBI agent.

“Chris?” Emily snaps her fingers in front of his face, “Wow, you’re really whipped for my boss huh?”

“Am I? What does your profile say?” Chris tips his chin confidently.

“Well, in this case, your demeanor screams playboy, and you flirt with girls if she spares you even the tiniest spark of interest, but you don’t do casual relationship. You believe in love at first sight, you’re a naive romantic, but you’re persistent, patient, and you follow your gut. Now, your gut is pulling you right there,” Emily cocks her head towards her boss.

Chris cocks his head to the side with a smirk, “That never gets old, what you do is just so cool.”

“It can get annoying, I can profile what you google with incognito.”

Chris sweats, “Wait you can do that?”

The agent cracks a wide smile, “No, not with I’ve got so far.” Chris chuckled nervously and wipes his non-existent sweat on his temple.

“So,” his eyes are back on Hotch, unconsciously sweeping his dark chocolate hair back, “what are my chances?”

“Hotch was married once, and he just broke up with his girlfriend. That’s all I’m telling you.”

“Oof, total hetero huh? Not just that, everything he does is classic alpha male behavior.”

“That’s what I said too.”

“Fuck Jesus!” Chris spaz at Dr. Reid’s voice suddenly came from behind him. And as sudden as he says that, he’s gone just as fast, making a beeline to the coffee maker.

“Hotch is far from Jesus though, hair ain’t quite the same. And I never met Jesus, but I bet his skin is a bit more glowy, and you know, healthy,” Emily teased.

Chris spent a few seconds staring at Emily like she’s crazy, and then realized he’s the crazy one.

“You know what, I’m just gonna go for it,” Chris takes a deep breath. Tidying his navy dress shirt and makes sure his black fit jean isn’t crooked and his combat boots have no dirt on them. As he deemed himself presentable, he marches forward.

“Go for it tiger, good luck.” Emily cheers and Chris highly appreciates that more than Emily knows, heck maybe she does knows.

Heh, profilers. Oh, but Hotch is a profiler too. Damn, maybe he’ll know his intention just by a knock or something.

Here he goes anyway.

Chris knocks on the open door, catching Hotch’s attention, “Good work today.”

“You too, Detective Hamlyn,” Hotch nods, still no smile, “You’re cooperative, we hardly have any captain that do.”

“Yikes, I take it you’ve seen a lot worse?”

“Yes.”

Hotch stops tidying up the table and looks at Chris. Time stopped as his dark eyes investigate his micro-expression, but what Chris cared for the most right now is how pretty Hotch’s bottom lashes are. They’re short but full and intensely black, they go completely from one corner to the other.

“It’s nice meeting with you,” the older man said with a respecting and platonic nod as he continues to file.

Ouch, that’s worse than being rejected, being dismissed with a detached professional reply. Chris needs to be bolder.

“Yeah, nice meeting you too,” Chris takes a deep breath, “But you know... DC to Quantico is easily an hour train ride away, so it doesn’t have to be our last meeting.”

There’s a horse running in his chest, puncturing his heart with its hooves. Oh, and the look on Hotch’s face. He bet there’s a lot of murders and creepy bastards he takes on and he won’t even blink an eye, but now, Hotch blinks owlishly with his lips parted.

It doesn’t take a profiler for someone to know what Chris is implying.

“I...” Hotch looks away.

Oh no, it’s a dragged ‘I...’ means Hotch is about to reject him and currently trying to find the mercifully right word to do so, then they’ll never see each other again, like ever.

Time for bold tactic number 2.

“Look, even if you’re not interested, you’re a cool dude. I admire what you do, to face hundreds of sociopathic sexual sadist white males in his 30’s and still have your cool. Or maybe you’re trying to seem you look cool? I don’t know man I can’t really read any of you. I just... think you’re awesome and I want to get to know you. I swear I’m not up to something creepy. God, I’m rambling I’m sorry I’m nervous. Just um...” Chris takes a business card from the cardholder on his belt, and slide it towards the stunned agent.

“I’m down to hangout. If you’re tired of looking at the same face every day” Chris cocks his head towards the glass window, “Don’t hesitate to call, I don’t mind the train ride.”

Hesitantly, Hotch takes the card and inspect it. Chris had never felt this naked because a man looking so thoroughly at his business card.

“I knew Chris is not your full first name,” Hotch states, still with a stoic face. Emily could’ve profiled that, but Chris is not one and he doesn’t know what that reaction means.

“Nope, my real name is a tongue twister, so I just go by Chris,” he replies, like a normal person. He counts that as a success.

“How do you say your name?”

“Kristianto.”

Upon hearing it, Hotch doesn’t even bother to try, and Chris fully understands, “Malaysian?”

“Indonesian, on my mother’s side. Basically means Christian.”

Then Hotch stares to the card again, and Chris starts sweating. Should he escape now? Be like ‘okay call me maybe, bye’?

Then Hotch puts his card in his breast pocket and goes back to cleaning up the files.

“I’m busy most of the time, I don’t have a lot of free time,” Hotch’s voice drops low but soft like expensive faux fur and gentle as if meek.

“Duh, I can see that. I mean, as long as I get to see or hear from you, just a call or meeting for a short break, I don’t care, I’m down to do whatever you want.”

The look on Hotch's face is as if no one had ever said that before. Whoever was his wife or girlfriend, must’ve been the one pampered and forgot to pamper him back. Lucky for both of them, that’s his specialty. He’s not a people pleaser, but for Hotch? Boy does he want to please this man and show him a good time. That off-guard face he’s making just because Chris says something basic is the one that does it.

Chris, the casually pessimistic sanguine, now feel either optimistic or desperate enough to go anywhere this dreamboat is willing to sail him to.

“Really? Whatever I want?” Hotch, despite sounding monotone, looks actually excited. That just adds oil to his running engine.

“Yeah! I’m up until 2 am and woke up at 7 if you want to call me. My yelp game is strong so I can take you to the best restaurant and hangout spots around. If you want a chill daaa-I mean hangout! Yeah, if you want a chill hangout, I cook a mean chilly I learned from Binging with Babi-” Chris got choked up because of the sight behold in his humble presence.

Hotch smiles, at him. At him.

“Oh god...” Chris wobbles and quickly get a hold of the table.

“What’s wrong,” Hotch grabbed his arms. Repeat, Hotch is touching him. His grip is so strong he wants to be wrap in it and—now is not the time!

“No, nothing.” Chris dismissed, badly, as he awkwardly smiles like a creep and shifting his eyes anywhere else other than Hotch’s face.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Profile me then,” Chris challenged out of desperation.

He got his poker face on, there’s no way the man knows.

“You reacted like this because I smiled.”

Why did Chris even try?

Chris doesn’t take kindly when Hotch looks at him incredulously after knowing that fact, “Excuse me, I think you underestimate the power of your cute smile. Nuclear warheads from the east throughout the west got nothing on you.”

Hotch smiles again, complete with a soft little scoff for extra damage. If that’s not a green light, then that little cheeky grin is too cruel.

“I’ve heard a few comments on my look, cute is never one of them,” Hotch admits.

“They either blind or have poor taste. Yes, your eyes are carrying shopping bags-”

“Hamlyn,” Hotch scolds half-heartedly.

“But they’re your charm! And-” Chris felt his brain scrambles like someone stuck a fork in it and spins it around like noodle in a cup of brain juice.

“Look,” Chris said, more to himself actually, “I don’t actually care how you look, or how sexy your voice is, dammit,” Chris lowly curse under his breath. “As you can see, I’m rusty.”

“You don’t say,” Hotch teased and seems to be having genuine fun, it’s not a sight for the faint of heart.

Smiling shyly, Chris glances at his boots, “Cut me some slack. I never actually approach someone like this. I draw the line on people I work with, but I really really like you, and I’ll be damned if I see you go without trying to at least get your number.”

The sharpness in Hotch’s piercing black eyes mellows. The wrinkles between his eyebrows are finally catching a break. With a loud thump on the files, Hotch is finally finished putting out the files on the table.

“What about now?” Hotch's suddenly said.

“What the what now?”

“I’m up for a drink, maybe a light snack.”

Chris short-circuit into oblivion. This is it. This is the shit man, pull it together!

“I... yeah! Sure! I know just the place.”

“Will it still be open this late?”

“It’s 24 hours, homebrewed beer, and the fried pickle is to die for.”

“That sounds nice,” Hotch sounded genuinely taken by surprise, he looks down to his watch, and he must’ve only noticed then that it’s 1 am, “I hope you’re not too tired.”

“No way, you just made me feel like I’m swimming in meth, not the best metaphor but yeah, you get it. I feel like I chugged a glass of liquid heroin, wait that’s not better. I swear I don’t have a drug problem.”

Then, honest to God, Hotch laughed. Not like the lame ‘haha’ chuckle no. A full laugh with a hand on top of his chest, and breathing shortly and eyes crinkled shut. This man has the ability to destroy him completely and Chris is so doomed. Oh so gladly doomed.

“Thank you,” Hotch said when he finally calmed down.

Chris doesn’t know what to think about when a man has to thank him for making him laugh. He’s glad though that Hotch doesn’t think he’s boring, or too forward, or even offending, god it was his biggest fear. Maybe this will go somewhere good.

“I’m done cleaning up,” Hotch notified.

“Great, let’s go, it’s a walking distance.”

“Perfect.”

Hotch grabbed his bag, and they walk out of the glass conference room. Only then he noticed Hotch’s team was huddled over together with watchful eyes directed at them. Most of the officers had already gone home and a few of the night shift officers already arrived.

“Hey, Hotch, ready to jet?” Agent Morgan called over. Hotch approaches them and Chris follows suit after grabbing his bag from his desk, keeping his jittering under the radar, hopefully.

“You guys go on ahead, I’ll fly by morning,” Hotch informed. This is the first time Chris sees his team seemingly suspicious of their leader’s decision. But honestly? So does Chris. One more day? For an outing with Chris? He hoped he’s not visibly blushing.

“What will you be doing?” Emily teased, looking pointedly at Chris who stuck a tongue at her.

“I have a date with Detective Hamlyn, goodnight everyone.”

Hotch turns around and walks away, leaving his team with jaws on the floor. No less Chris, who looks at Hotch’s back, then back to the five agents in front of him. He felt the eyes of five hyenas that looks at him sharply like he just killed their cubs or something. No words needed to know these people care about Hotch.

“I-It’s nice working with you guys?” Chris cleared his throat, “I’ll bring him back safely,” but that’s the wrong thing to say. He’s not taking out someone’s daughter for god sake.

“He’s waiting kid, chop-chop” Agent Rossi, his idol since he was in the academy, just ‘chop-chop’ him.

No need to tell him twice, “Goodnight!” then speedwalk towards Hotch.

Before the man even holds the knob to the front door, Chris hurries to open the door for him, instinctually. Given, Hotch looks stunned yet again.

“After you, my sir,” Chris bows and waves his hands towards the road.

“You do this to all your dates?” Hotch shakes his head amusedly.

“Yes, and it’ll gonna get worse,” chirped the old security guard, who gave him a side-eye and a held back smile.

“Sammy!” Chris put a hand on his navy dress shirt, “How could you, you know me better than that. I’m a gentleman to the core.”

The old man just chuckles and waves at the two men,  “You guys have fun!”

“Goodnight sir,” Hotch nods at the man and walk down the side road with him.

After a few seconds walking and stealing glances, Chris finally says, “You’re an open book to your colleague, eh?”

“They already know you’re asking me out.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t know you accept.”

“Really?” Hotch smirked and Chris gapes.

“You sneaky sneaky tease!” Chris exclaimed.

Hotch smiles again, showing his slightly crooked teeth on the bottom row. Suddenly the late night air doesn’t feel too chilly anymore.

“First time on a date with a guy?” Chris asked.

“Yes, you?”

“No, I think I went out three times with a guy, dated one, which only lasts like a few months.”

“Huh, your reputation serves you.”

“Hey, no! I’m always the one broke up on.”

Hotch quirks up the corner of his lips, “I know.”

“Smile to me like that again then I might not survive the night,” Chris swoons, and the one blushing is somehow Hotch. “Have you not been flirted on before?”

“Not as boldly and creative as you do.”

“Well, get ready Hotch, because I’m just getting started.”

“Aaron, please. I’m off duty.”

Chris bites his lips from the smile threatening to form, “Okay, Aaron. Then call me Chris.”

The rigid and stern unit chief is finally enjoying himself as they carry themselves easy through the late city night. It helped that the bar is only filled to half that night. Most patrons are office workers with their buddies just gathering up to unwind. The bartender of the night shift is an old friend of Chris and he gave them a seat on the bar. The tv, people chatting and playing pool sets as a throughout mood.

They spent the night hanging out with cold craft beers and two servings of fried pickles, talking about anything and everything. Like the 4-days old news, because they pay no attention to anything else when chasing their criminal. What their plans for the weekends are, or their plans when they go home. Chris is planning to put a sheet mask, takes a long warm bath and sleeps as much as he can as he needs to work tomorrow.  Horrifyingly, Aaron’s plan when he goes home is to work on a report.

After some persuading, lowkey begging, and a few embarrassing nicknames later, Aaron promised he’ll sleep first before touching those reports.

It’s noticeable how they edge away from personal topics like family, but Chris is fine with that. It’s only the first date after all. Even as they talk about pity things like their favorite foods and embarrassing university days, the air is comfortable.

He also learned that Aaron is not that much older than him, only by three years.

Boy, how many sleepless nights and emotional baggage did Hotch carry inside those eye bags Whether or not they’ll be an item, Chris is determined to make Hotch sleep more, or at least introduce him to sunscreen.

At 5 am, Chris drives Hotch to his hotel, and stops by the lobby entrance.

“I have a great time tonight,” the older man says, with smiling eyes murdering Chris with suffocation by handsomeness.

“Me too.” He was about to say something else, but he held back. He doesn’t want to push Hotch even further from his comfort zone.

“I’ll call,” Hotch’s words came to the rescue, and Chris is back from the dead and walks the earth again.

There’s a stupid smile on Chris’ face right now, and he’s showing it all.

“Okay, I’ll hold you to that.”

Hotch opens the door before his feet even touch the asphalt below he retracts and closes the door back. A hand planted on the side of his seat and a hand frames his face, that happened so fast, but when Aaron has himself in his merciful hand, he slows down as if he hesitated.

To proof there’s nothing to hesitate about, Chris caresses the back of Aaron’s neck and pulls him close. Chris doesn’t see Aaron close his eyes when he closes his, but the man doesn’t move away. His heart jumps out of his rib cage when he feels the warm lips on top of his. Aaron still tastes strongly of yeast from the beer with a tinge of saltiness from the fried pickle.

When Chris breaths in, he smelt a tinge of perfume blending with the smell of beer. The lips pressed against him nibbles on his, leaning even closer as Aaron’s hand plays with his hair.  He can’t help the smile on his lips at the ticklish feeling on his scalp.

For a split second of their kiss, they let themselves be. He lets Aaron takes whatever he wants, no matter how little.  

When Aaron finally breaks the kiss first, they stay in a close space.

“Thank you for tonight’s date,” Aaron whispered against his lips, and Chris finally has the gut to look into Hotch’s eyes.

How mysterious are those eyes. At first sight, it’s black, only when he’s this close and the light is right, he could see the slight low saturated green on his eyes. It obliterates his heart how much Aaron seems like he’s happy. It’s an honor but, Aaron treats it like it’s the first in a long time.

It’s only a date, but it’s starting to feel less superficial.

Maybe that won’t be such a bad thing.

“Your welcome, Aaron. Anytime. I mean it,” Chris hesitantly touch  Hotch’s face, rubbing the soft wrinkles on the tail of his eye with his thumb.

Thank coincidence it’s 4 AM. They’re really taking their time in front of the lobby entrance, but no one is behind them. Still, one of them has to end the night, they got work tomorrow.

“You promised you’ll sleep first right?” Chris says.

“I promise,” Hotch replies, and he finally leans back, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Aaron slips out of his car and walks to the lobby. Even then, Aaron took his time to look back and waves as Chris drove away.

The smile on his face sticks until he falls asleep.

It’s a good night indeed.

[babeejeon]

If I Let You Go

Song: If I Let You Go by Westlife

Author note:I see this song on my Spotify recommendations, and I loved it. If I am not wrong, it’s release date is 9th August 1999. Which means I am only one month old or something at that time. However, years later I fell in love with this song and decided that I should write something about it.

Word count: 2673

-Namjoon angst/fluff drabble-

-2011-

You met Namjoon in a coffee shop, indeed his favourite one. So, you decided it will be more meaningful to end everything, where they started.

You love him, you really do but circumstances were clearly showing it won’t work. It is not only your thought, Namjoon must be thinking the same since he hid his situation from you.

In a sunny march day, you convinced yourself that you don’t need an umbrella. Later that day a downpour appeared out of sudden, so you did only thing you could do, running first place you see.

~~~

It was a lovely coffee shop, you wonder why you never pick it out from the boring ones around it. You felt lucky to be in this coffee shop while waiting for rain to subside. But to your luck, it was so crowded.  

You stand there with your order in your hand, not knowing what to do next. Then, you see a boy around your ages waving at you. You look at him while trying to find out if you know him. You pointed yourself and mumbled ‘me?’. He nodded and signify you to come closer.

“Do I know you?” you asked when you are in front of his table. He blushed.

“No, I just.. ugh, you were standing, and it seems like there isn’t any empty table. So,ugh.. I wanted to say, you can sit with me.” He said while scratching his neck. You giggled and gave him a big smile.

“Aww! You are so kind. I guess I will sit. Thank you so much.” You said happily and he finally return your smile.

You sit there awkwardly. A handsome and super cool boy is sitting in front of you but as a shy bean, you don’t even know what to say to start a nice conversation. If your friends see you now, they will make fun of you forever. So, you took your book from your backpack and started to read. Occasionally you were glancing up from your book to check the rain or maybe for looking at him. But seems like you already lost your chance when you took your book, because the boy has his earphones on now and he seems too focused on the notebook in front of him.

You continued to read while wondering how stupid you are to lose this chance. Next time when you look out to check the rain, you realized it is already dark outside and the rain is continuing. You looked at your watch and see it was already 8 pm.

Deciding its finally your time to go home, you gathered your belongings. You wanted to thank the boy last time but didn’t know how to do since he has his earphones on. After a painful thinking process, you decided to pat his shoulder a little. He looked up to you and took one of his earphones.

“I just wanted to thank you again for sharing your table with me. Have a nice day!” you said and after giving him a hearty smile you turn to left. But he held your wrist. You looked at him with questioning eyes.

“You don’t have an umbrella?” he said.

“Yes, I thought it would be a good idea to not to carry my umbrella with me?!” you said. He laughed, so you do.

“You can take mine.” He said while taking out his.

“No way! You need it. And seems like I need a lesson for not bringing it with me.” You said while waving your hands as a no.

“Then, let me walk you home.” He said. Your eyes went big.

“Huh?”

“For both of us to use it.” He said while gathering his belongings. You blushed but hoped it is not too obvious.

Five minutes later you two were under his umbrella. Thankfully his umbrella was wider than typical individual umbrellas. But that still wasn’t enough for two, so you two were standing closely. After an awkward minute, he cleared his throat.

“So, where is your home?” he asked, and you told him briefly.

“Ugh.. By the way I am Namjoon.” He said.

“Y/N.” you said. He laughed.

“What?” you asked.

“You are too shy, but it is too cute.” He said while giving the cutest smile in the world.

“I am not, I am just introverted.” You said.

“I am not protesting, actually I like it. I was about to lose my chance to get your name because of it, but since I get it now, it is okay.” He said with a smirk. You shot him a look but soon you were in front of your apartment.

“I guess we arrived already.” He said.

“Ugh.. yes, I live here.” You said.

“Then, I hope to see you again, Y/N.” he said.

“Thank you, for both sharing your table and walking me home, Namjoon! Let’s see if we ever meet again, good night!” you said and waved him.

You entered the apartment and walked to elevator with this weird feeling on your chest.

~~~

Next time you see Namjoon was when you decided to go to that coffee shop for studying. Actually, you weren’t expecting to see him. It is just your upcoming worse-than-nightmare math exam and used up motivation. So, you decided that maybe the latte you drank last time would help. Since it has both caffeine and taste.

You arrived the coffee shop and thankfully it wasn’t as crowded as last time. But still you put your coat to one of the tables with nice lighting, to make sure having a seat.

After getting your latte, you came back to your seat. You opened your nuisance math book and notebook next to each other.

Before starting your wrestle with math, you sip from your latte and took your favourite pen.

When it is finally your break time, which means you already studied for one hour, you checked the page, but you were still at the third page.

You sighed and decided to get another latte for yourself. Therefore, you were at the queue when you felt a little tap on your shoulder. You turned around to see Namjoon.

“Oh! Namjoon! Nice to see you.” You said.

“Oh! Y/N! Seems like we meet again!” he giggled.

“Yes, we meet again. I wish we sit together again but I am not really in the mood.” You said.

“Huh?” he asked.

“I have math test in 3 days and guess what? I don’t even know what to do.” You said.

“Would you like me to help?” he asked.

“You can?” you asked. He nodded and rest of your day spent with him tutoring you.

***

You two get closer after the math tutor, quickly. Too close that two months later, he confessed you and you two were dating since then. It has been 5 months of dating, but you already feel like you can’t live without him. But you need to, because you love him.

~~~

Three day ago, a man came up to your table while you were waiting Namjoon to arrive. You were about to ask him what he is doing but he was quick to put his business card in front of you.

“I am Namjoon’s manager.” He said.

“I am sorry but what are you trying to say?” you asked.

“Have a look.” He said while pointing the card.

Bighit Entertainmet

“You are probably guessing what I am about to say but I don’t have much time. I will talk frankly.

I know Namjoon never mentioned you about this. I waited for him to do it himself. But seems like he doesn’t have enough courage to do.

He is our trainee and he is very promising one. Before he becomes confused, I decided to have this talk with you.

I know he loves you and seems like you love him. But in this industry relationships don’t work well. It will hurt both of you, damage his image and endanger you. You know Namjoon is bad tempered, so I come to ask you to break up with him. I hope you see my point. Please think wisely, you don’t need to rush.” He said and left. He didn’t even let you talk. But actually, you couldn’t find the energy in yourself to talk.

Suddenly everything seems suffocating. You quickly paid your drink and sent Namjoon a message about you need to go home. And you really went home, to cry your heart out.

So here you are, after avoiding him three days, this morning you sent him a message to meet him. You will break up with him, for the sake of both of you.

You checked your phone in every two minutes while rethinking what will you say to him.

“Babe?” Namjoon brought you back from your thoughts.

“Oh, hi!” you said. He sat in front of you.

“Babe are you okay?” he said while grabbing your hands into his. Your heart swell with his love but you took your hands from his, in order to do what you have to do.

He looked confused.

“Ugh, Namjoon, I want to talk to you about something important.” You said and your voice cracked in ‘important’.

“Okay, it is obvious that you are nervous.” He said.

“I am not!” you snapped.

“Okay, babe. What is going on?” he asked trying to calm down. You took a deep breath and brought your eyes down.

This is the best for us.

“I want to break up.” You said.

“You what?” he asked.

“I want to break up.” You repeat.

“I heard that clearly.” He said. Trying to take a deep breath he grabbed your hands. Your hands were trembling, but you put all your effort to hold your cry.

“Babe, what are you talking about?” he said while caressing your knuckles softly.

“I want to break up.” You said.

“Y/N, can you look at my eyes?” he asked. You did, after all it will be the last time. His eyes, those beautiful eyes you fell for, they look cloudy, thanks to you. You looked each other’s eyes for a few minutes, without a word.

“Why?” he asked.

“I..i..” you couldn’t continue.

“If you really want to break up with me, be honest to me for the last time.” He said. Suddenly his words brought all the anger you have inside.

“Who are you to tell me about honesty?” you said.

“What are you talking about Y/N?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, and your tears spilled from your eyes.

“You, you didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me you are a trainee. I asked you why you decided to come to Seoul several times, each time you changed the topic. I thought there is a sensitive topic behind it. I thought you would tell me when you are comfortable with it. And now you can’t tell me to be honest, when I never hide anything from you! I deserved to hear it from you. Not from a freaking manager who came to tell me break up with you!” you said and got up to leave but he was quick to catch your arm.

“I think I said everything I have to.” You said and left him there.

***

Next week spent with your tears and unanswered calls from Namjoon. You curl up yourself under your blanket and cry as much as you can before falling asleep.

Tonight, wasn’t different than previous days. You just dried your hair in a messy bun and about to curl up in your bed but you heard a knock on the door. You went to open it while avoiding the mirror nearby the door. Your look like zombie, so it is a wise choice.

You opened the door absent-mindedly. But you froze when you see Namjoon standing there. You couldn’t even try to close the door, just stared his eyes.

“What?” you asked.

“Y/N, can you let me in? I, no, you need to listen this.” He said.

“What?” you asked.

“My cover song, for you.” He said.

“Namjoon, are you kidding me?” you asked.

“Please just once.” He said.

You open the door wider for him to enter. You lead him to living room. He opened his cover.

‘Day after day Time passed away And I just can't get you out of my mind Nobody knows, I hide it inside I keep on searching but I can't find The courage to show to letting you know I've never felt so much love before And once again I'm thinking about Taking the easy way out

But if I let you go I will never know What my life would be holding you close to me Will I ever see you smiling back at me? How will I know if I let you go?

Night after night I hear myself say Why don't this feeling just fade away There's no one like you You speak to my heart It's such a shame we're worlds apart I'm too shy to ask, I'm too proud to lose But sooner or later I gotta choose And once again I'm thinking about Taking the easy way out

If I let you go I will never know What my life would be, holding you close to me Will I ever see you smiling back at me? How will I know if I let you go?’

The song already came to end. All along the song, his eyes were on you and you were looking down. His voice was too off-key for a song like this, but it still ripped your heart.

“Y/N.” he closed the distance he kept while you were listening. One of his hand intertwined with yours and the other cupped your chin to focus your eyes on his.

“I am sorry Y/N. I am sorry that I never told you this. I am sorry that you had to hear it from my manager.

I am sorry but please know that leaving you never was my option. I hadn’t said it to you but it’s all because it wasn’t easy to say. You loved me, became my girlfriend, became my muse and I was scared to lose you. But no, I can’t Y/N. I don’t want to. I don’t want to regret all my life. I don’t want to miss you all my life, I want to be with you.

I know nothing can change the fact that I broke your heart, but Y/N I want make you smile all your life to make it up to you. I don’t want you to spend your tears for me, I want you to smile because of me. I want to give you all of my life, be your loved one. I would do anything if you let me, I would bear any hardship. Just give me another chance.

I don’t want to let you go.” His tears rolled down from his eyes, those beautiful eyes you fell for.

You bear all the pain in this week, but his teary eyes became the last point to break you into his arms.

“I love you Joon, please don’t cry. I am sorry, please don’t..” you said while crying to his chest. He kissed top of your head and separate you from him to look into your eyes.

“I love you too but if you want me to stop crying you should stop it first.” He said. Both of you giggled with teary eyes. You wiped his eyes first, then yours.

“Let’s stop crying.” You said with a little smile. He pecked your lips out of sudden.

“What was that for?” you asked giggling.

“Do you know how much I missed your smile? Even more than that three weeks I was wishing to see you again.” He said.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb! I spent all my days at that coffee shop with the hopes to see you again.” He said.

“Aww! Don’t be cheesy!”

“Sorry I already am.” He said and you two continued to laugh stupid things all night.

[toomanyfandomsinonebrain]

Hey, I am not sure if your requests are closed or not but could you do Crowley and reader with prompts 2. Aren't you tired of chasing me? And 41. Just tell me how you f-ing feel? Please? I dont swear sorry

Hey sunshine!

Absolutely! I’d love to! And thank you so much for writing what the prompts actually are - that makes my job so much easier!

Name: Love is damn annoying.Prompts: 2. Aren’t you tired of chasing me? 41. Just tell me how you f-ing feel?

You feel his presence with your skin - no matter how far you run, how well you hide, how many anti-demonic bracelets you wear - you know that he is behind you. Smiling, his soft laughter haunts you in your dreams. When you first realized that there was an unknown demon following you, you took all the possible precautions to ensure your safety for when it decided to attack you. But it never did - simply followed you.

“I guess, it’s your luck,” Dean says when you get out of a vicious battle with demons with a single cut on your shoulder that you don’t show to him because you can easily take care of it yourself. It isn’t luck. It’s the protective presence that you feel raging behind your back now because you weren’t supposed to get hurt. But you do not tell anyone.

You end up sitting on your bed, staring at the deep cut on your shoulder in a mirror - the knife was stopped mid-cutting, torn out of your chest before you were seriously hurt, and the attacker was demolished by something that you could not see. The only thing that truly scared you was the attacker’s face, as it saw whoever was protecting you - the sheer fear and horror.

“I know you’re here,” you say out loud, hoping to solve whatever that thing is between you. “Aren’t you tired of chasing me?”

“I’ll stop when you stop running to most dangerous places as soon as an opportunity arises,” Crowley slowly appears in the chair in front of you, holding a glass of whiskey. Smiling like a Cheshire cat, but much less benevolent, almost radiating danger. You try to pretend you are not surprised that it is him, and Crowley shakes his head. “I know you did not expect to see me.”

“Why the hell, Crowley? It’s been a year of you just following me?” he shrugs his shoulders and nods. You lean back and plant your back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. You would try and shoot him, but you seem to owe him one. Or two. “I’m the most unfortunate human in this building. Given the Winchesters.”

“Anyone else would be flattered to see the King of Hell as their personal bodyguard,” Crowley notes, and you frown.

“I can guard my own body.”

“Yeah? And how is that working out for you?” Crowley nods at the still bleeding cut, perfectly visible through your torn shirt. You pretend to not hear him, but you clearly recall all the times when you should have died, but you didn’t because of some dumb luck.

“Why are you here, Crowley? What do you want?” he does not say anything - just gives you a sly smile. “Come on, I did not sell you my soul, did I?”

“I do not remember you to.”

“Then why? Just tell me how you feel, god damnit!” you jump to your feet, infuriated with his silence - as if he knows all, and is just waiting for you to understand something. Jumping may not have been a smart decision - the cut opens, and you watch blood drip down your shirt. “Crap,” you grab a towel and press it against your skin. Crowley does not move, just keeps looking at you, then puts his glass on a table. “Crowley, it’s been a year. Don’t I deserve to know?”

“Of course you do, love,” Crowley finally raises to his feet and walks up to you, planting his hand on your shoulder and forcing you sit down, as he takes away the towel and presses his palm against your skin, holding your shoulder and fully covering the cut. You do not fight him - you don’t really see a reason to. He is much stronger, and anything you can do is basically worthless, especially without your weapons. “You see,” the cut starts itching, healing at a higher speed than it should naturally, and you make yourself keep a straight face. “Although it is impossible for demons, I found myself… In a situation. Rather complicated one. In which I have feelings for a human. I guess that’s the one bit of humanity that stuck in after your Winchesters pumped me with human blood.”

“So you want dating advise? Crowley, sorry to disappoint, you’ll be better off with Dean. I do not date.”

“You are so human,” the itching turns almost impossible to tolerate, but you still hold still, hiding the discomfort. Crowley smiles gently, as if apologizing for the pain. “It’ll be over in a minute or so… I have feelings for you, Y/N. Those human feelings. Love. Caring. Jealousy. Anything you name. I have that. And I do not know what to do with it,” the itching does not even matter now. You’re doing your best to not lose consciousness. The idea of the King of Hell picking you as his one source of feelings… is flattering, but also beyond horrifying. “That’s how I feel.”

“You can’t…”

“I know. I am demon. But I do. And I also feel very god damn angry when you get hurt,” you suddenly feel very ashamed for getting in trouble. “I will just keep you safe,” Crowley tucks a curl behind your ear, and you blush, hating yourself for that, and he leaves his palm on your cheek, his touch almost burning your skin. “I can manage all the other feelings. But you have to stay safe. Because having you hurt makes it hard to control... stuff,” you are horrified. Not you felt his rage - like the fire of hell burning around you when you got hurt. But hearing Crowley, the King of Hell, the person you would expect to have perfect self-control, just give up and accept his feelings for you. You try to not think how many times he tried to burn whatever he feels out of his chest. And how much he had to rethink about himself, trying to accept this part of his personality.

“So… what do you want to do about that?” you are a scientist. You are not a romantic right now. You have to figure out how to keep hunting because a relationship with Crowley isn’t something good for either one of you. No matter how badly you want it, no matter how safe you feel next to him. “Just keep me safe?”

“I also want to kiss the life out of you,” Crowley informs you quietly, his voice an octave lower than before, and you regret asking the last question. “And I obviously want you in Hell with me. I know you will never do that, but just so that you know that I intend to wait for as long as it takes to get you to accept your place next to me,” Crowley shrugs his shoulders. “I am a patient man.”

“You are no such thing!” you can hardly help a laughter, and Crowley is forced to smile back, taking his hand off your cheek. You almost lean in to return it, but stop yourself just in time. “You have literally no patience.”

“True… But I will do my best to find some.”

“I’m so confused now,” you admit quietly.

“Then let me explain. I may be cursed to have this emotion, but I’ve done everything I could to get rid of it. Everything, Y/N. And it’s here to stay. And I can’t let you die. But I am willing wait for you to have your fun and then take your place next to me. Because love is damn annoying.”

“Love?”

“Yes, Y/N. Your Winchesters did not do themselves a favor by giving me this feeling. I am not soft. I am still the King of Hell. I am not good. I simply have a weakness that I can’t eradicate,” he smiles softly for a split second.

“Me?” he nods. “Sorry.”

“Hence the surveillance and protection.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he repeats after you, not really getting what you are agreeing to. And why.

“Yes, okay,” you stand up and look Crowley in the eye. There is no red, and that is very calming - talking to a red-eyes beast gets a bit scary, and would be at least a little strange given that you are discussing your romantic relationship. “We can give it a try.”

“What?”

“I am willing to give us,” you gesture vaguely. “A chance. One chance.”

“Alright,” he grins, you notice that (when he is not plotting to murder every human in the radius of 200 miles), Crowley gets almost painfully attractive. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight,” without a single word, he disappears in the cloud of smoke, and you wonder how much trouble you got yourself in. And you know that it is a lot.

Tagged: @memyselfandmaddox,  @one-big-dreamer